Needless to say, it was a long time after Kain had left my home that it was used upon myself, as well as it’s potential to be fully realized; but more on that later. In the meantime, I made sure Kain was able to stay with me until he landed onto his feet. I placed him within a proper bedroom within my home, and told him he could say here as long as he needed to. Likely, I introduced him to the family as a long-distant cousin, and had him assist me with whatever I needed help within the confines of my study; this was, of course, minus the work I did whilst he and the rest of the world was asleep.
I soon came to learn that I was right that his blood was indeed valuable. And the more I worked and studied its properties, I found that the color I once saw shimmer with daybreak’s morning light (a silvery-gold liquid) had fully overtaken its bland crimson shape for good. I still remember the day in which I had to pull the syringe from his skin and saw the skimmer briefly once more again. I remember thinking to himself, how hard it was to pierce his skin with the needle at first—not because I felt that it was immoral in any way to be doing this, but that Kain’s skin was as tough as the hide of a rhinoceros; dragon skin, if there ever were any.
Later, and much further in the developed my final analysis on the samples of blood, I then found a way to create a paste-like substance infused with bone-powder, fire leaf, essences of ash, sulfur and salt, to then be injected into a rat named, Ryan. This was in order to see the effects it would have upon the nervous system. Ryan died within hours; suffering with immense seizures, and rapid discoloration. Going to sleep that evening and figuring that it would be back to the drawing board in the morning, I came to find out that I was dreadfully wrong. In the morning, I found myself to be pleasantly surprised with the strange outcome I’d found waiting for me when I awoke.
It was for one, Ryan was still alive. But there was something else, something that had me leap with joy and both shudder in embarrassment—now that I think of how much I decided to play God. That is, and was, that Ryan was now breathing fire. It was then that I realized that I had somehow perfected in some strange way, using Kain’s blood and elements described, to enhance my studies of pyromancy; I could be a pure sorcerer of the flames without a single compromise to my mortal soul. The possibilities of all this and more seemed to be endless, but I was wrong on two accounts—one of them being that I did not compromise my mortal soul.
John Dee - Alchemist (1608)
Chapter V
The Blunderbuss, The Iron Ring & Kain’s Box
Antarctica, 1301.
“There it is,” Magnus said. “Out there in the distance.”
Kain stirred, but enviably he could not see anything; he was tied and being dragged, after all.
“Place him here,” the dwarf then said. “Carefully! Remember—not a single hair to be damaged upon his head...”
The goblins did what they were told and placed Kain carefully down onto the ground made of ice. The two demons then began to squawk and growl towards each other. It seemed to them that they thought their job was complete, and now they could socialize with each other. With one hard kick to the chest to one of them from the dwarf, they’d gotten the picture immediately; they were not done working until, he’d said they were done. Kain saw this and watched from his inverted angle as the goblin twins scurried away. He heard them mumble to themselves, most likely cursing the dwarf under their breath. As they left, Kain saw the markings of sigil branded upon each of the goblin’s right-bare foot. It looked like a cross emblazoned within a blacksmith's hammer.
“Get on and do whatcha told!” the dwarf called out, as they hurried away. “Or I’ll be throwing you both inside boxes of your own!”
“A box?” Kain said out loud, but Magnus pretended not to hear him. “What do you mean a box?”
“Ya idiots...” the dwarf roared. “Grab the pickaxe or the shovel from ya deceased brother there, and continued where he’d left off. The poor sap couldn’t fathom the cold—the arctic air did not suit him well, after dragging the casket all the way from Jerusalem...”
Magnus then looked down towards Kain. The glare that came from the dwarf looked hardened, but against the reflection of his sapphire, blue eyes, the crusader could see the glimpse of tears being held back. Magnus was never made to show sadness, this display of unabashed and calculated betrayal proved that. You would almost expect that the dwarf himself was waiting to be thrown inside the box.
“I’m sorry, friend,” he said again. “If there was some other way—any other way, I would have taken the chance to preserve our friendship.”
Kain said nothing.
“Don’t be trying to change my mind either,” the dwarf continued. “I wouldn’t hear a lick of what you need to say. This needs to be done.”
Kain had then taken in a deep breath of frozen air. It felt harsh, and yet, completely refreshing as it made its way through his lungs. In all honesty, what more could be said about was going to happen. He understood then that there was no turning back from where he was about to go, and agreed that acceptance was the only option.
“If there is a casket with my name on it,” Kain finally replied. “At least turn me around so I can see what sort of cruel fate awaits me.”
Magnus looked up, supposedly into the direction of the goblins were facing. Kain began to hear the violently smashing of iron hitting against ice. Whatever the goblins were doing, they were struggling in doing so.
“Are you sure then, lad?” Magnus asked. “If I’m being honest, this wouldn’t be a sight I would like to look upon if I were you.”
Kain nodded his head, the best he could. The dwarf, seeing this, shook his head and let out a long sigh.
“Then you be a much stronger man than me, Faustus Kain.” he said, placing his custom blunderbuss onto the frozen ground, and away from Kain. He then grabbed the crusader by the side of the wrapped chains, and swung him carefully around, so he’d see what Magnus had prepared for him.
It stood a short distance away, but far enough so that some of the view was distorted by the wind blowing large tufts of snow from one end to another. Kain, despite this, saw all this rather clearly still. It was a large, dark oaken box that awaited him in the distance; beautifully cut, constructed and fashioned into a coffin made for his size. Upon each side, from what he could see, the casket had large iron loops. Kain could only guess these were for the chains to be placed upon and tightened; probably locked as well. It was then he saw the goblins; both with pickaxes and shovels, alternating their motions as to destroy the large bed of ice that stood below them. Kain then saw the rigid corpse of what seemed to another, single, dead goblin. Upon his forehead was another branded sigil, the same as the ones that stood on the feet of the two banging away at the ice.
“I’ve seen worse...” Kain then said from where he laid.
Magnus released an unexpected hearty-laugh from deep within his gullet. It sounded like he needed this moment of relief now more than ever.
“You’ve always had a way of saying the right things at the right moment, lad.” the dwarf replied, and stroked his slowly greying, auburn beard. “I promise you,” he continued. “Actually, I promise you two things,” Kain then saw the dwarf look away and towards the goblins, his gaze staying away from his entirely. As he spoke he retrieved his blunderbuss and slung-it back over his shoulder. “I promise you that I’ll come back and retrieve you when the time is right,” Kain saw a slow tear roll down the massive dwarf’s cheek then. “And,” the dwarf proceeded. “And I'll do right by you when we meet after that. I’ll give you a debt for myself to gladly repay. Anything you’ll be needing, I'll supply it.”
Kain thought this over, but knew that his own personal silence was doing more harm than good to the situation, so he decided to answer the dwarf.
“I understand.” Kain replied.
Magnus looked away then. He had begun to silently, but profusely cry like a child. Snot ran down his beard, he quickly cleaned his face, and hair before Kain could see. But Kain saw, ther
e were very few things that could ever get past him. Kain, in turn, nodded his head; understanding that a dwarf was good by his word—even when the word he stood by lead them into dangerous territory. The crusader looked again at the ring upon the dwarf’s stubby fingers. Magnus noticed Kain noticing the ring, and held it out for him to see more clearly.
“Nice ring...” Kain said. “...can you get me one of those?”
“Ha!” the dwarf said. “This ring is a special kind of iron; no merchant of any kind sells the likes of these, lad. What it does is render helpless the likes of goblins, nymphs, trolls and certain giants—the woodland kind. It makes them all terribly weak in the knees. The creature is then forced to do what I say or the mark placed upon them shall burn ten-fold; from the inside out.”
Kain looked at the ring then again, and felt a tinge of uncertainty upon it.
“I’m sorry,” Kain then replied. “But I'm not much for the slave and master business, friend—no less the burning of a mark to remain permanent.”
“Now do be jumping to conclusions,” the dwarf said. “I don’t plan to have an army of them creatures at my disposal, ya see. But they do come in handy and most importantly, it gets these disgusting creatures out of harm’s way for the rest of us. In a sense, getting back at what was done to me, from creatures like them. Inadvertently, they are likely associated with them—we just don’t know it yet.”
“You seem paranoid.”
“I'm not. I’m just being careful, that’s all. You can understand that. If you spent as much time in hell as I did, you’d do the same.”
“I can understand that. There’s only one thing,” Kain asked. “What’s with the mark placed upon the ring? It doesn’t seem stable.”
The dwarf looked down at the ring, cautiously.
“This?” he said pointing at the sigil engraved upon it.
“Yes that.” Kain replied. “It doesn’t look “too heavenly” to me? Possibly something from h—”
“Don’t say it. You’re on thin-ice as it is. The sigil of my own making—perfectly fine, I assure you.”
“Where did you first see it?” Kain asked casually.
The dwarf hesitated, but after a moment spoke candidly about the whole thing.
“It is both the sign from which they kept my people back in Hell to work for the end of their days, but it is also tweaked slightly to cause power on my end of the bargain. It is more dwarven—ancient dwarven than anything. I’ve told you that the ancient dwarves, my forefathers were rogue children of fallen angels and humans—the ones that didn’t turn into giants, that is. Now that you understand my history, you should know that I take little tolerance towards any sympathizers that support the enslavement of dwarfs in the boils of Hell. For what I’m doing with this ring, it is a good thing. Keep them all in check. ”
“Until someone else figures the best way to use this and other metals to their advantage, that is?” replied Kain.
Magnus said nothing. He looked away from his friend then. Kain realized that he’d most likely said the wrong thing—which sounded about right, it always seemed that he often did. He’d always try hard to do and say the right thing, but it seemed never to work in his favor; one day, hopefully not soon (or whenever he gets out of this forsaken box), he’s going to give up entirely on being other that himself—say f**k it to the world and all that's come before it. Kain looked again at Magnus then. Still tied—bound with steel from his hands to his feet, and somehow felt that he was the one that needed to apologise.
“Listen,” the dwarf began. “This will be a long time coming, you see. I figured that a bargain or not, deal or no deal, if the devil has me under his grip and this be the last straw, I'd start making deals of my own with his people...not that he’ll rightfully care anyways. If I dispose of them, I’d likely be doing them a favor, anyways. It helps me sleep at night, the same as the way you hunt monsters—human or otherwise. Do you understand me?”
2.
Antarctica, 1301. Continued...
All was quiet for some time, as they watched the goblins slowly break the ice.
“Magnus?”
The dwarf turned around from his shame and faced his friend; his eyes were still somewhat watery and red from crying, regardless of his recent speech defending his decision of keeping the iron ring within his possession.
“Yes, lad?” he replied.
“Considering this be the last time we speak for a while,” Kain continued, trying not to laugh. “I was wondering, where is the legendary dwarven blacksmith’s noble stead?”
Magnus smiled then, knowing his friend was trying to buy himself some more time. The breaking of the final layer of ice was soon to crack, leaving him to get on and do the final step in his deal with the devil.
“Darla?” the dwarf grunted. “The old sow should be here soon enough—how else am I supposed to get home, anyways? But don’t worry; she’s always on time, that one—unless she found a nice mud puddle to crawl into.”
Kain chuckled, and Magnus joined in, to which then they heard a loud grunt and heavy cough that was more like snore approach them from behind. Magnus turning and facing the wind began to see the outline of a four-legged creature trudging along towards him. A large, black, and ivory spotted dire-boar, with radian large tusks then came forward. The creature wore a saddle upon her back and swung it gleefully as she saw her master in the distance. Kain could hear the bore’s enormous footsteps and continued to chuckle to himself.
“That be Darla?” Kain asked.
“Yes,” Magnus replied, smiling. “That be her, alright.”
Darla raced forward and plowed into her master, dropping him onto the floor and soon, the dwarf was covered in dire-bore drool.
“Darla, please girl! Stop!” Magnus said with a laugh. “Look girl, look! Over there be Kain!”
The dire-bore then hobbled over towards the tied crusader and began licking him like an excited puppy dog. But this feeling of joy only lasted a moment, for Darla then smelt the accents of the dwarf’s dwarven metal chains wrapped around the crusader. Immediately she became aggravated, and began to grunt angrily towards Magnus.
“Listen girl!” the dwarf replied to the bore. “This is something you’d not understand.”
The bore grunted louder.
“Listen,” he continued. “Trust me when I say that we will come back for him, I promise. This is only temporary, trust me girl.”
The bore then continued grunting again, and then slowly began to calm down. She then walked away, whip-like tail planted high in the air away from Magnus. Magnus shook his head as he’d seen this, and watched as the dire-boar found a quiet spot to lie for the time being. As all this occurred, Kain continued to watch as the goblins made great headroom with the ice in the distance. He’d hoped that Magnus wouldn’t notice.
“Sometimes I rightfully don’t understand that pig,” Magnus said. “It’s like she has almost human emo—”
That was when the ice cracked below both of the goblin’s feet. The dwarf turned to see the goblins jumping for joy upon finishing their appointed task. There was a look of dread upon the dwarf’s face then, for he knew what needed to be done next.
“The time has come...” Magnus said. “Best be quick about it—hey! Don’t be thinking you're through yet, ya spawns of Satan!”
The dwarf then pointed towards Kain, then towards the box.
“Finish what ya started...”
The goblins listened reluctantly, and did what they were told; pulling—dragging Kain to the oaken casket, then placing him carefully inside. Laying within the box, though comfortable for the situation, the crusader felt like his heart was ready to jump right out through his throat. He looked up at the dwarf then. The eyes of a judgmental friend glaring at the injustice that was occurring before him.
“You’d be comfortable within this box, trust me.” Magnus said. “It’s lined with a soft and plushy metal I created to keep moisture out—if you’d be thinking that you’d drown after we dun
k you into the ice.”
“You expect me not to scream or go mad inside this box? Dropping me safely within the ice or not, I don’t know how long I could personally take off this sort of solitary.” Kain replied.
“Thought of that as well,” the dwarf replied.
He then dropped the pack he’d been carrying, and took from deep within its contents, a circular orb that seemed fused with plant-life features. The dwarf placed it in front of the crusader so that he could see the object more clearly.
“For the lack of a better thing to call it,” the dwarf continued. “It’s called a ''Sleeper.” What it does is exactly that. After I light the fuse, I'll drop it here within the box and have you knocked off a few winks in no time. The frozen tundra will do the rest as nature intended.”
“This is madness...”
“No, it’s merely supernatural.” the dwarf said. “We can do things that others can’t and get away with it, until, that is, either party decides to call us home. That's the price we pay for being other than human, my friend. Which is to say once more that I am truly sorry about all this? I wish there could be—”
“Please, “ Kain interrupted. “Not again. Just get it over with.”
“Fair enough...” replied Magnus, and dropped the Sleeper into the box, not yet lighting the fuse.
The dwarf then turned to goblins and urged them to come forward and finish the task.
“Drag the box close,” Magnus said, pointing towards the hole in the ice. “I’ll seal it myself. There is only one more thing that I need to do.”
The dwarf watched as the two goblins whined, but did their jobs effectively. They dragged the box holding Kain towards the end of the hole and waited for further instructions.
“Good,” the dwarf then said, looking at the goblins. “Very good.”
He then slung the blunderbuss over his shoulder and blasted—nearly unloaded—three rounds into one of the goblins. The goblin to the right, the one now dripping with greenish-brown blood and filled with a smattering of tiny holes, dropped to his knees, and fell over; landing squaring into the hole within the lake of ice that he’d just dug out. The goblin to the left, the one that saw his brother decimated, then hesitated in shock, before deciding to lunge forward with large fangs and claws towards the dwarf. Magnus was prepared for this, and saw that he stepped forward at the right moment, placed the barrel of the blunderbuss under the goblin’s chin, to which he retracted a long silver blade from the rifle’s chamber.
This Immortal Coil Page 4