I entered the small ship to see four leather seats,
two in front and two behind them. Buttons, levers, and knobs littered the
dashboard before the large transparent shield. I quickly sat in the far back
seat while the captain and Yahn took their seats. We buckled our straps.
The captain turned a switch, followed by a quiet
growl from the engines, which quickly became a purr. Yahn gently thrust a lever
forward and the ship followed suit. After several minutes, when the captain was
satisfied with our space from dock and sea floor, he pulled upon another lever,
causing us to slowly submerge as Yahn pushed his lever further to increase our
speed.
Once we leveled out and took a constant speed, I sat
back and let my mind wander. We couldn’t proceed in a swifter manner due to the
creatures surrounding Mijii; there were many beasts of the sea that would
devour the ship without thought.
Unfortunately, dark thoughts attract dark fortunes,
and after a short time, a growing agitation in the back of my mind became too
great to dismiss. We were being hunted. As if the beast knew he was discovered,
the ship suddenly trembled with the water’s displacement.
“What was that?!” Yahn cried.
“The snapping jaws of a beast that just barely missed
dinner.” Before my words fully escaped my lips, the ship swung violently. “And
that was the beast getting slightly closer to achieving his goal. I must
encourage you to speed up.”
Yahn did as instructed, but I realized as we thrust
forward that our sudden jolt was the beast slamming into us from behind.
Unfortunately, not one of us foresaw the captain’s head slamming into the dash
board, incidentally tugging upon the lever that sent us into diving nose-first
to the sea floor.
Without thinking, I pulled the captain back against
his seat while Yahn tried to right our ship. Suddenly we were spinning out of
control, testing the protection of our straps while Yahn tried futilely to gain
control. As we slowed ever slightly, I caught a glimpse of sleek black hide and
cold, entirely white eyes, and then I knew what we faced. The creature was
twice as large as the ship and slender with four short legs and a large, flat
tail.
“There are no sukina in this ocean!” Yahn cried,
shock playing across his face until it faded into fear.
“They are rare here, but not inexistent, and
certainly not the most dangerous creature in this ocean.” I leaned forward and
adjusted the controls. The ship was righted and took off away from the sukina.
Yahn tried to regain his composer. “Please, sir, do
not panic, this ship has seen worse situations than this,” he said, his voice
shaking with fear.
“Then I will contain my panic and provide my
assistance. Please remove the captain from his seat.” The man gave me a
questioning look but his body obeyed me and he dragged his unconscious superior
into the seat in the back. I sat in the newly empty seat and took controls. I
turned the lights upward into the startled beast’s eyes. Plunging the ship
beneath the beast caused it to turn instinctively, which counteracted its
shock. “What scent cartridge does this ship boast?”
“Sukina.”
“That would not work, merely anger it. Are there any
forbidden areas around here?” I asked.
“There is a jisk colony just north,” he said.
“That will do.” The feeble ship charged forward with
great speed as if it comprehended the danger it was in. Luckily, the sukina was
a comparatively slow swimmer, though it was relentless, had great senses, and
could crush the ship in its jaws. Just ahead of me, the light became obstructed
with the flashing silver of the huge jisk. “I recommend you sit down and strap
up,” I told the trembling man.
He fell heavily into his seat next to his unconscious
captain and secured the straps. I released the scent cartridge and plummeted
down as the wall of bodies dispersed. I flipped off the lights and we were
immersed in darkness. Soon after, we landed gently on the sand bed to wait for
the jisk to relieve us of our assailant. The ship quivered violently as jisk
passed above it absentmindedly.
“Sir, we cannot take this. This ship is not prepared
for this depth and we only have a limited supply of oxygen to get to the
destination and return to Miji.”
“I will keep that in mind. If it would make you feel
better, you should close your eyes now,” I said. I pressed the emergency power
switch and the life support system converted to manual controls.
“What are you doing?!” the man cried. His panic was
understandable but very irritating.
“Playing an inanimate object. We cannot sit at the
bottom of the sea until the jisk leave and we are not leaving alive if we look
like food.” The manual control stick was stiff as I pulled it back and the
speed stick slightly forward. The ship immediately started to rise, and then
slowed as I pulled the speed lever back.
We drifted slowly in the darkness as jisk passed us
carelessly. I could sense the jisk all around us, slowly returning to serenity
as the scent of food cleared. At one point, the ship was prodded by one or two
jisk. We had no choice but to let it play out and, after a few minutes, they
decided we weren’t food.
The moment I was confident we had enough range, I
switched on the power and lights. With every morsel of speed the obsolete ship
could assemble, it plunged towards safety. Once we were in friendly waters, I
slowed and the man sprung from his seat.
“We could have died!” he cried. His excessive fear
was very annoying.
“I am aware of that; however, we did not. Now, please
adjust the oxygen levels to account for your captain. We will be arriving
shortly.” As I promised, we arrived a few minutes later and I gently raised the
ship until it finally broke surface. When I settled the ship into the stone
bed, the man opened the door and scuttled out, letting in a diminutive amount
of water. “I would advise you to wait near the ship.”
“Are you joking, sir? Of course I would not leave the
ship! It will get eaten, and you, sir, are a very reckless and dangerous man!”
he yelled. His anger was less frustrating than his panic and as soon as he had
finished, he was feeling much better. He regained his composure but couldn’t
manage to apologize.
I departed the ship and studied the cave around me.
The headlights shined through the water and lit the cave in a dim, green glow.
Sinister stalactites and stalagmites made the cave appear smaller. I wasted no
time before selecting a tunnel on instincts and pursuing its darkness.
I walked quite a ways before coming upon an
artificial circular clearing that was well lit with a large ring of five white
candles, set deep into the stone. Sitting motionless in the center was a young
man, no older than Dylan. He sat cross-legged with a book open upon his lap and
energy swirling around him. In front of him was a bowl of smoldering
components.
I purposely scuffed my foot against stone to draw his
attention and he looked up, startled. He resembled Dylan in several ways. His
dark brown hair was cut cleanly while his dark green eyes suggested the
aspiration for adventure. His skin was pale, contrasting to his black garments.
While his attire was insignificant, the golden dragon crest on his chest held
that he was part of royal family of Zendii.
“How did you get passed my barrier?” he asked.
There was a barrier?
“I am here to prevent you
from making a perilous mistake,” I said.
“I am not making a mistake. I am following very
precise instructions on a discovery mission. This is my great grandfather’s
diary,” he argued, holding up his book.
“Did you bother to read ahead to discover how your
great grandfather died?”
He looked confused for a second before turning to the
last few pages. This was the problem with many young wizards, as well as one of
the reasons why I liked my new apprentice; Dylan would have never done anything
so dangerous without knowing the consequences.
He shook his head. “It does not say.” He kept
reading. “It is not finished.”
I sighed.
Foolish child.
“Give me the
grimoire.”
“I will not. It is mine!” he exclaimed.
With little patience, I drew my energy and reached
for the book, which came obediently to my power.
“No!” he yelled like a child whose toy was seized. I
slipped the book into my bag.
His objection was interrupted by a rumbling of the
ground and a tired, irritated roar far deeper into the cave. He stood and ran
to my side, whether looking for protection or a decoy, I didn’t know. “How far
into the ritual have you completed?” I asked.
“I mostly completed it. All I have to do is call its
name, to get its attention. You do not need to fear; it will obey me,” he said
with confidence.
“How do you come to that conclusion?” I asked.
“It says if you speak the language of the gods, as
only the demons can, then the demon’s dragon will obey you. I have demon
ancestry, and my family knows an old dialect of Sudo called Dagyo. He will obey
me.”
My frustration with the impulsive child was too much.
“Dagyo is not the language of the gods!” I yelled. He collapsed to the ground
with a look of utmost fear on his face. “Go towards the entrance until you see
a ship and a man. Tell the man to take off without me. Get out of here, now.”
He had no chance to consider my command before climbing halfway to his feet and
running away into the darkness.
Blood began to seep through the stone walls and pool
onto the floor. There was no time to draw a triangle and fix the mistakes in
the ritual the boy had created, so I had to improvise. I entered the circle,
fixed the line of rock salt, and drew energy around me like a thick shield to
the consistency that it suffocated me.
The roar that was slowly growing louder suddenly fell
silent and the only sound was the dripping blood. With a new sound, the liquid
lit with fire as red as the blood itself. Blood and fire surrounded the circle,
but my energy protected me from the majority of the heat. In front of me, high
above the flames was a face I had wished never to glimpse again.
“Abaddon,” I growled. Hatred as hot as the fire
around me boiled deep. My energy flexed and flickered with anticipation, itching
to justify my anger. The beast’s laugh, very similar to a growl, was a horrible
sound that made the fire cool. Abaddon was a creature so evil his very presence
could corrupt the strongest men. He was imprisoned many years before my time
and his resulting destruction will likely be imprinted upon Duran until long
after my death.
The beast’s face resembled a gargoyle’s with
reptilian eyes. His skin was like liquid, black stone. His eyes were bright
white that drew fear and darkness from one’s soul. White, sharp teeth glinted
between black, dripping lips, unleashing a foul odor of rotting death. He was a
creature who refused and opposed the gods to his deepest depths, and for it he
was rejected from both life and death. He was not meant to exist.
His face shrunk into the darkness and the flames
suddenly parted, revealing Abaddon in the shape of a man, standing on the small
pool of blood. Black hair, which appeared to be made of strands of darkness,
blended into his black robes. His skin was a powdery white, and could be seen
through his robes, almost as if they were merely thick, black smoke. The
yellow, cold eyes were the most distinguishing features, and his thin, pale
face emphasized them. His eyes were still reptilian, but the solid yellow color
in the face of a man was so unnatural it was chilling even to me.
He slowly began to approach me until he stopped close
enough to smell his stench of rotting blood. I had confidence in my circle’s
power, because if I didn’t, it would be too weak to protect me.
“Zalaznius,” he said with a deep, quiet voice. He
sneered and I saw that his teeth were as sharp as before his transformation.
“Zalaznius” was the forbidden name of the Guardians.
Ironically, the true name for the Guardians; Noquodi, was as much hated by us
as the disgraced.
“I have not been called that in a very long time,” I
said in the best Enochian I could manage. Every instinct in me warned me to
avoid his gaze but, as a Guardian, I couldn’t bring myself to do so. I had the
obligation to face him, so I would face him with power and confidence.
“You are still a slave of the gods; you do not
deserve another name.”
“As the chosen representative of God, I command you
to return to your slumber in peace,” I said, hoping my Enochian was sufficient.
His laugh was enough to tell me it was.
“‘Representative’? That is a mighty command for a being held to this world by
life. Tell me, slave, why I should obey you?”
There was no reasoning with him by way of threats; he
was much older than me and held a power no being alive could possibly yield.
The only chance I had was to trap him, and I had little idea how it was done in
the first place.
Out of habit I reached into my bag and felt for my
book. Startled at what I felt, I remembered that I was protecting Dylan’s book
as well as my own. As I started to pull my hand out, I felt something else and
removed the grimoire. Taking my eyes from those of Abaddon, I opened the book
to the ritual that released him.
While glancing at the Dagyo enchantment, excitement
coursed through my blood. To complete the ritual, blood of a dead being and
blood of a live being was needed. There was no blood in the bowl. I reached
into my boot and pulled out a dagger. Ritual magic was slower than Guardian
magic, but obscenely powerful.
Abaddon grinned. “You mean to release me yourself,
Zalaznius?” He looked amused, but I knew he wasn’t; he knew my plot just as
easily as I did.
“That is precisely what I intend to do.” I raised the
book and continued the incantation that the man hadn’t.
“And by this ineffable name, Tetragrammaton Iehovah,
do I command thee, at the which being heard the elements are overthrown, the
air is shaken, the sea runneth back, the fire is quenched---” the candles went
dark. “The earth tremble together, and all the hosts of the celestials,
terrestrials, and infernals do tremble together, and are troubled and
confounded!” I said, giving up on Enochian to speak in English. I made a few
changes to the words, but it would still work. Abaddon was becoming angry and
the fire slowly became dark orange.