On the Evil Scale: Keeper of La Tecla (The Key) Book Two

Patrolling the wall, Guardians switched posts, scanning the island below and the skies above; the torches markers along the slithered road flickered brightly, illuminating the ground in its serpentine shape. Things were quiet for the Guardians until they heard it, a distant screaming.

“Oi, do you hear that?” Caleb wondered.

“What is that, it sounds like…” Justin looked around, “sounds like a bloody Banshee.”

“Banshees wouldn’t surprise me, but…” Wyatt grew concerned, “I’ve heard that before.” he searched the skies.

“What?!” Caleb shrieked.

“When?!” Justin hissed.

“Shh…” the Demon placed a finger to his lips, “it’s getting closer.”

As the Guardians listened to the screams growing more distinct, they removed their weapons and watched the skies with their supernatural eyes. Gathering closely, they spotted a thick mass approaching swiftly. Worrying that maybe it was something else attacking the island in a new wave, the Guardians prepared themselves with their weapons and magic drawn; the Demons reached out with their magical senses but nothing bounced back in reply.

“Form up, form up!” Wyatt shouted loudly. As he turned, watching as Demons gathered around him and the other Guardians, they each created a barrier that melded their magics together as one; a massive dome appeared above them, shimmering from the continuous flow of magic.

“There, what’s that?!” Caleb pointed outward.

Massive wings stretching outward, created a strong breeze, bracing a vast creature and its weight.

The Guardians feared the occurrence, for here there was a massive winged beast stretched out, and someone’s screeching as a menacing background sound effect, it could put the fear into anyone.

The force cast from the wings, blew against the barrier, creating what looked like a rippling wave across the surface of the magical barrier.

Justin and Caleb sighed, as did Wyatt, taking in Axeon’s presence.

“It’s all right…it’s all right!” Wyatt announced, “It’s Axeon, it’s only Axeon.” he glanced around, nodding in reassurance, “Back down.” he lowered his hands that glowed and pulsated with his level 5 magic, as did the many other level 4 and 5 Demons.

Shaking his head, Caleb holstered his guns.

Adjusting himself, landing on the wall with a rough, but somehow an elegant pounce, Axeon roared stretching out his wings, before they slowly folded along the length of his body as he cowered down. As he turned his head, glancing behind him, a young woman quickly slid off his back, falling rougher than expected.

“Yz-Yza?” Justin inquired curiously, “Is that you?” he watched as she stumbled to her feet.

“Who else…” I combed my hair back, adjusting my jacket, “would it be?” I snapped, looking at him, “Nice to see you too.”

“Yeah.” he grinned.

“Nice scream, by the way.” Wyatt added as he approached.

“Bloody hell, that’s a big dragon.” Caleb admired in excitement as he pointed at Axeon looming behind her, “Man, I wish there was guide book for this sort of sh*t, you know?” he shrugged with a smile, “If I knew this was part of the job, I don’t think I would have accepted it.” he dramatized the moment, and even though he was area of Axeon’s existence, nonetheless, dragons still shocked the Wraith greatly.

“Caleb, dear Caleb…” I smiled, approaching him, “I think being one of the Wraiths on an island with Lycynians, Boar-wolves and Jinn, not to mention hellhounds, would be used to sh*t that pops up like BOOM.” I snapped, “Like that, no?”

Standing there, thinking momentarily, Caleb shrugged with a smile.

“Yeah okay, you got me on that one.”

Shaking my head, I chuckled softly.

“We do not have all night!” Azir’s voice boomed from Axeon’s back, but his figure was masked as Axeon held his head above.

“Oi, did he just bloody talk?!” Justin gawked, “He better not have!”

“No, Wraith. He did not, that was I.” Azir leaned to the side, letting the Guardian see his figure hidden among the dragon’s sleek scales or spikes.

“Oh boy.” I mumbled, walking toward the chest wrapped in chains. I chased the Ravens away, then turned, watching as Caleb sped over, adding his helping hand in carrying it back toward the dragon, as if it weighted nothing, “Thank you.” I patted his arm.

“No problem, love.” Caleb nodded.

“Will he be okay?” I glanced toward Justin nearby.

“Eh, don’t worry about him. He’s all drama.” Caleb chuckled, “He’ll be taking about Axeon for days, still can’t believe Marxus didn’t tell us about him.”

“Well, as I’ve said many times before, there are many things Marxus didn’t tell me, or any of you, about. Besides, it would have been nice if you told me about Wraiths and whatnot when I first arrived, no?”

“Wasn’t my secret to tell.” Caleb smiled once more, adjusting his grip on the chains wrapped around the chest, laying it before one of the dragon’s massive taloned feet that frightened him as he jumped back, watching as the talons flexed, “Bloody hell…” he gasped.

“We’ve got it from here.” I nudged him gently, then glanced back at Justin and Wyatt, before climbing back upon Axeon’s back with the Jinn’s help once more, “Catch you guys later!” I waved with a smile, then held onto the dragon’s spikes.

Raising his head toward the night sky, Axeon released another loud and deafening roar before leaning down for momentum, grabbing the chest with one of his feet, then pushing himself off the wall, the wind cast from his wings, knocked the Guardians down before they could brace themselves.

“Whoa…” Justin knelt on his elbows, “un-freaking-believable.” he admired the blue dragon soaring higher into the sky where the moon shone against his Sapphire scales.

“I told you it was a mistake, I told you but you didn’t listen to me!” Matrx slammed his hands on the table, “Now look…we’ve lost four more unity and precious ships!” his voice echoed off the walls of the throne room, then he began pacing anxiously, waiting for Drakuul to say something but he remained silent, “Well, aren’t you going to say anything?!”

“What do you want me to say, hmm?!” the Immortal eerily turned to the General, folding his arms, “That I was wrong, that all of this…” he gestured around, “is pointless?! You want me to say that I’ll stop, is that what you want?!” he squinted his dark eyes, “Because you and I both know that that day will never come to pass, never! We are just underestimating our enemy and yes, we’re suffering losses, but what’s a handful of men that can return in hordes.”

“Return in hordes?” Matrx mocked in disbelief, “Is that all you care about, aside from finding Marxus and this god damn book? Magic?” he released a mocking chuckle, “Well, I’ll tell you what. You can sit here on your throne…” he gestured toward the gran gold chair, “and read from Mother’s books while I’m out there winning this way, my way! Not for you, but for me, because if it rids me of you, them I am glad that I’m wandering the streets day in and day out, because it gets me away from you and your f*cking bullsh*t!” he argued gruffly.

“Watch yourself, Matrx.” Drakuul warned.

“Or what, hmm? Or what, Drakuul?” Matrx confronted the man, “If you want to kill me, go ahead…do it, but good luck finding anyone that can do my job better than I can, go on…do it!” he waited but he proved his point, watching as Drakuul only sneered at him, “That is what I thought…” he spat at the man’s feet, “a coward.” he quickly wiped the corners of his mouth.

Frowning, feeling his rage scratching at the surface, Drakuul quickly stretched out his hands that glowed in a dark blue hue with black wisps intertwined, toward the General. Creating what looked to be a magical tether wrapping itself around the warrior, the magic bounced off like a whip snapping against the ground in all direction, sounding off an unsettling zap and pop, confusing Drakuul greatly as he felt a force pushing back against his magical attempts. Lowering his hands, he wondered in confusion.

Matrx stood, leering at his brother, feeling the magic pressing against the front of his armor.

“H-how is that possible?” Drakuul muttered.

“How is it possible that I deflected your magic” Matrx mocked in a low, sinister tone, “How did I do, what did I do?” he tilted his head, “You’re not the only one brother, who can make magical allies in this world so let me you what I did to protect my self from you.” he took menacing steps forward, keeping his hands on the hilts of his Katanas hanging off his belt, “You know all of those prisoners that I alone, have captured? Rebel Demons and Shayds, even a few warlocks?” he grinned, “They were eager to accept a deal for their freedom, and you would be surprised how desperate someone can be for their freedom. They worked their magic, giving me an immunity to yours and since we share the same energy and all that hoopla…” he waved his hands around mocking the Necromancer, “it made it easier for them as they bound a protection charm upon my pretty little shoulders which, I’m sure you know, means that I can’t be harmed.” he smiled arrogantly, “So with that said BROTHER, if we’re done here? I’ll be out there, while you keep yourself locked away in here like a hermit crab in its shell.” he began backing away, “Oh, and you know something?”

“What!?” Drakuul moaned, ignoring his brother’s betrayal.

“I feel sorry for you.” Matrx moaned, then turned, storming out.

“I don’t want your pity!” Drakuul shouted after him, knowing that the General heard his slur, “F*ck!” he clenched his fists, and pulling them close to his chest gathering built up energy, he then threw them outward, releasing a blast of his magic that knocked chairs from their places, toppled the grand throne and his black orb that rolled nearby into a shadowed corner, even extinguishing the torches that lit up the room, “Guards!” he shouted in command, lowering his hands. As he turned, he watched as 7 Shayds answered his summons, cautiously entering the room.

“Yes, Lord Drakuul?” one of the Shayds bowed their heads.

Observing the seven men standing near the door, he quickly changed his mind.

“Nevermind.” he dismissed their presence, then turned his back.

“Is everything all right, Lord?” another Shayd questioned curiously.

“Hmm?” Drakuul turned to them, seeing they stood within the room.

“Is everything all right?” the man repeated himself.

“No.” the Necromancer groaned, then realized that if Matrx wanted to play games, he too, would play his own. Knowing that those he had ordered to be captured, magical practitioners, still attempted to use their magic against him in a different manner, filled him with rage, “How many prisoners do we have?” he questioned clearly.

“Forty, give or take.” another Shayd revealed, “Why?”

“I want to you take those forty, give or take, prisoners outside and put their heads on spikes for everyone in this f*cking city to see that that’s where their lives will wind up if they continue betraying all of the laws that I have put in place. Is that clear?”

“But we haven’t questioned all of them yet.” another Shayd argued.

“I said…” Drakuul slowly approached the man, “put their heads on spikes and display them on the streets for everyone to see, is that…” he stared deeply into the man’s green eyes, “clear?” his voice sounded deep, and threatening.

“Yes, my Lord.” the man nodded, “We will see to it right away.”

“Excellent, and if it’s not done by tonight, I will make sure that your heads stand among them.” Drakuul warned, “Now get it done.”

The Shayds quickly slipped out of the room.

Sighing heavily, returning the throne and orb back to their place, it was all Drakuul could do, sitting in the chair growing tired of all the games, and declining numbers of his militia, but what more could he do? He couldn’t continue conjuring creatures night after night, even making new Nightwalkers, for they would all be under Matrx’s firm leadership anyway.

“Baise-moi!” Matrx cursed under his breath, clenching his fists, as he stomped down the hall in heavy, powerful strides. Entering the grand courtyard where hordes of Trolls, Zarooks and half mortal-half beast mutations stood like massive toys, he ignored their bulks and stench, and their lack of cognitive awareness of his presence. Passing by, they offered no physical reaction other than grunts and heavy swings of their arms as he poked at them with the tip of one of his daggers. As he grinned, shaking his head, he listened as four Shayds entered the courtyard, rushing toward him, “If you’ve come here with orders by Drakuul, turn around and take them back, and tell him that he can shove them up his a** because I don’t want to hear it.” he warned as he pointed the dagger toward them to his left.

“No, General.” one of the men muttered, “We found something you might want to see.”

“And what would that be? More prisoners?” Matrx complained with a deep huff, as if growing tired of all the searching.

“No, General.” another looked at his comrades, “We finally found those tunnels that you were looking for, but unfortunately someone deleted the documents.”

“Then how did you find the tunnels?” Matrx wondered curiously.

“Units eleven and thirteen were scouting the subways when they, by accident according to them, found an old turn off tunnel that looked to have been blocked off. They investigated it half way through but they pulled back because the roof was unstable but we found them.” another Shayd offered praise of their efforts.

“Walk with me.” Matrx tapped the man’s soldier, then strolled past him, walking through Parliament. Listening to the reports in further detail, he nodded in affirmation and confidence, “Very well, and by whatever means, whatever you find, bring it straight to me, is that clear?” he ordered.

“Yes, General.” the Shayds nodded, loyal to their General.

“Perfect.” Matrx slurred, rubbing his hands together before he turned, heading back onto the streets handling his own business.

Flying above the mainland, Birmingham and many of its smaller surrounding towns were completely destroyed, and from the air, Azir and I could see the burnt ground that scarred the land in a crisscross pattern. It was unsettling enough as it was, but when Axeon revealed there were piles of bodies pilled up outside some of the small cities and towns, the sight upon closer inspection, turned our stomachs. As I looked in the opposite direction, there were vehicles strewn across the streets among rubble that laid in piles from demolished buildings that were torn down, not from fire but at the hands of the Trolls and their monstrous clubbed weapons that were like being hit by a large wrecking ball crashing in a wall. There were tress that remained still standing in parks and gardens, but they too, like everything else, were burned, cut down or uprooted. The scenes below looked as if several gas explosions took place, or if the mainland were a war-torn country.

Gasping softly, it broke my heart because some of the buildings were landmarks and held such of our world’s history as we knew it, from Kings and Queens, to wars and takeovers, they were now gone. Even the trees that stood for centuries, would never have the chance to tell their stories.

“Oh my god…” I fretted, crying softly, “Billy wasn’t kidding.”

“Who?” Azir wondered, glancing back at her.

“Uh, sorry…” I cleared my throat, “just a guy that sent me word of the threat that’s coming, but not even his words could reveal the true horror of what’s happening, or already happened.”

“The Necromancer’s ugliness and destruction is spreading faster than expected.” Azir observed the scenes below.

“So what do we do?” I worried, wiping my tears away, “The island is already preparing for war but…that can’t be it.”

Azir didn’t answer her, keeping his eyes forward, watching as they had approached the boundaries of the Great City’s airspace where it got worse. The iconic structures and landmarks Yzavela at one time recognized, no longer stood. Instead, they were twisted into ugly and distorted buildings with pipes, cogwheels, rubber tubing and so many more hideous contraptions that didn’t fit or held no purpose. It was grotesque, looking like one gigantic cyborg city.

Growing more tears, for everything that drew us in, was now gone. If only my mom could see it now, it would break her heart. She loved England’s architecture and it’s history, as did I, hence one of the reasons why we moved here.

“Our home was just there.” my voice quivered, while I pointed down toward the area near one of the parks that continued to present all of the destruction from the nightly terror and invasions from the militia, “I remember when we left, we grabbed everything we could and left so much behind and now everything is gone. Even our neighbors who were great people.” I fretted, then had a flashback moment of the night we escaped:

“Mommy, come on!” I shouted, rushing around my mom, tossing as many clothes as I can into a duffle bag, “”Mommy…” I shouted yet again, but she didn’t answer, “damn it!” I zipped the bag then tossed its strap across my chest and rushed out of the room, down the hall. Pushing open her door, she sat on her bed staring at her hands that trembled in her lap, “Mommy, what’re you doing? We have to go…”

Raising her gaze, studying her daughter standing in her doorway, she cleared her throat then wiped her tears away.

“I’m sorry, I just…” her sigh quivered softly, “can’t believe this.”

“I know Mommy, but we have to go.” I pleaded, kneeling in front of her, “Now, before they find us.” I glanced toward her window, where loud explosions and booming gunfire echoed down the street, “Come on…” I gripped her hands, pulling her to her feet, then gently urged her toward the door, “get downstairs with Zanzabarr, I’ll get this.” I reached for the handle of her trunk, then grunted, feelings its weight, “What the f*ck did you pack? The entire kitchen and bookshop?” I referred to her magical supplies and books.

“No, but I didn’t know what I’d need.” Lady D argued then quickly disappeared down the hall. Holding onto the railing, she listened as a military tank rolled down the street, passing the building then paused, glancing upward toward the top of the stairs where her daughter had remained silent.

“Go…” I urged my mom, leaving her trunk on the landing, rushing down the steps behind her.

Lady D nodded, then once she landed on the railing, both she and her daughter fell backwards as a loud explosion created a blast wave that shattered the windows and broke the doors inward from their hinges. Coughing, hearing a loud ringing in their eyes, they had only a chance to gather their composure when figures outside shouted and engaged in a vicious confrontation with the Lords’ Shayds and beasts.

Pulling my mom to her feet, pushing her forward, I guided her across the living room through the kitchen and out the back door, and just in time too because glancing back, soldiers stormed through the front door aiming their rifles at us; their lasers left red spots up and down my torso. Backing away, hearing my mom’s distant voice crying and Zanzabarr’s fierce barks, I closed my eyes waiting to be shot only to feel hands pulling me backwards through the doorway. Roughly and forcefully slammed against the fence of our backyard, I glanced at a man that stood above me.

“Get moving, love!” he urged her toward her mother.

“What about you?!” I argued, gripping his arms.

“Nevermind that.” he nodded, glancing at the door where his barrier blocked the gunfire; bullets created violent spots against his magic, “Get your mum and yourself to the trains, go…” he turned both the young woman and her mother around, guiding them toward the side gate leading to the streets, “The others and I will create a distraction.”

“Others?” Lady D pondered curiously, holding onto another trunk that was downstairs and Freya in her carrier.

“Are you deaf, NOW GO!” he barked, opening the gate leading out to the street where other residents and citizens fled swiftly.

“Come with us!” I pleaded.

“No, my time here is up.” the man fretted with a heavy sigh, “I lost Alicia, there’s nothing left for me now.” his blue eyes glazed over, “It’s the least I can do, helping you and your mum out of here, both of us were fond of you, you know that.”

Lady D and Yzavela nodded, for the man and his wife Alicia had been their neighbors for four years and had always helped in any way that they could, both magically and by mortal means.

“Thank you.” I appreciated quickly, then gripped Zanzabarr’s leash.

“Yzavela?” a man’s voice spoke loudly, “Yzavela?”

“Hmm?” I blinked, for the memory ended after the man’s voice had interrupt the moment of my past, “Y-yeah?” I shook my head.

“Ahead of us.” Azir pondered.

Veering around his shoulder, there it was, the Great City with a dark gray cloud still looming above the city.

“If only Frodo and Sam could see this.” I joked, referring to a scene when the hobbits entered the dry lands of Mordor.

“Excuse me?” Azir glanced down at her.

“Nothing, just a pop culture reference.” I mumbled, “It’s grown.” I frowned, “But there’s something different about it.” I feared growing closer but knew we had to. Glancing at the sky, I couldn’t even see the stars shining bright, only a thick film of smoke, ash, dark magic and fear, as well as the continuous legion of Shadowed Ones seeming to spew from within its center, screeching and swooping thorough the streets below but then they scattered fearfully as something grand slithered through the cloud, disturbing them greatly, “Not again.” I feared the monster, then jerking downward as Axeon dropped his body mid flight, avoiding making contact with large, mortal-looking creatures with over sized bat-like wings and clawed feet soaring past, and above us, flapping their thick wings, “They’re new.” I watched as they carried men, women and children who screamed in sheer terror, “I mean, they weren’t here in the city when I lived here.” I spoke to Azir and Axeon telepathically, for the verbal words were stuck in the back of my throat.

“Harpies.” Azir answered her, “Worse of many creatures Drakuul is capable of conjuring, and they’re very carnivorous.” he glanced at her.

“Worse of many?” I looked at him, “You make it sound like…there are more out there?”

“You lived here, you know of the Trolls and Zarooks.” the Jinn said over his shoulder, “Apparently he’s grown his numbers since then.” he finished.

“Apparently, because they weren’t here before.” I complained, and as I glanced at the Harpies, the creatures were beginning to sense a mass, or disturbance from Axeon’s cloaked energy. As the great dragon had flown through their swarm, they surrounded us in all directions, close enough so I could probably reach out and touch their thick leather-like skin.

Reaching out his hands, releasing a blast wave of magic, Azir with his own golden eyes, watched as the creatures released loud screeches and cries, alerting the armies below in the streets. Glancing over Axeon’s left shoulder, the Jinn watched as the soldiers in the tanks below, had shone their high beam flashlights upward in their direction, but they saw nothing because of the dragon’s cloaked presence.

“I must elude these creatures, for if we do not, they will detect us and I cannot fight them all.” Axeon’s voice pleaded, while searching for a place to rest.

“Do what you must.” I confirmed telepathically.

Axeon moaned then with several swift evading movements in various directions, the dragon veered off course away from the swarm, and as he made a circular maneuver, he landed one of the many intact roof tops, giving himself a much needed rest. Breathing heavily, he loudly dropped the chest that slammed against the rooftop, rattling the long string of chains that kept it bound, creating a loud racket. Turning his head, watching as the half-breed and Jinn slid down his neck, he laid his head down, then watched as the Harpies swarmed in a wide section of the city, carrying debris to and from the grand Parliament building near the River Thames.

“We’re too far off course.” I complained with a frown, “But I know it wasn’t your fault.” I turned to Axeon, petting his snout.

“You are growing weaker, old friend.” Azir approached, observing as the great dragon lay still with his wings stretched out, before raising one above their heads, concealing their location.

“I am, yes.” Axeon moaned.

“I’m sorry.” I petted his snout.

“Do not apologize, I no longer yield my youth as I once did.” Axeon studied the young woman and Jinn standing before him, “I have not been the same since Marxus’ departure, that is all. Unfortunately, this means that I cannot continue any further and must save my strength for what is to come.” he blinked, “You will have to find another way.” he closed his eyes, needing to rest.

“And what way would that be?” Azir whispered, looking around, “It cannot be possible for her to through the city streets alone.”

“Abraxas, he means Abraxas.” I removed the small rat from inside my jacket. Holding the black rodent in my hands, his nose wiggled along my palms, tickling against my skin, “Abraxas, do you see those flying creatures out there?” I turned, allowing him to see the creatures from the far distance between them and us.

Turning his small body around, raising his head looking at her, the small rodent squeaked.

“Would you like me to turn into one of them?” he questioned softly.

“You’re the only one capable enough to get in and out to deliver the chest. I don’t want to send you in there but you can do this, all you have to do is drop and go.” I instructed.

“Yes, Mother.” Abraxas agreed.

“Apologies but, am I missing something?” Azir pondered curiously.

“Just watch.” I looked at the Jinn, then knelt down, laying the small rodent on the ground at our feet, then stepped back, standing close to Axeon’s chest.

Lowering his head, transforming into one of the Harpies swiftly and protectively masked by Axeon’s wings, the Zyphyn began morphing from a rat, stretching tall into a hideous 8 foot tall creatures with its nude-to-gray complexion, and no visible sexual organs. As he leaned forward, resting his weight were claw-like hands at the top where the massive bat-like wings bent for movement. Standing tall, his long and muscular legs shifted in place while his large Eagle feet clicked long, sharpened talons against the rooftop. His features were twisted and demonic with a bulged brow line, bat-like nose, and pointed ears. As his red eyes that were far apart and set back in their sockets, scanned his form, they almost appeared skeletal. Snarling, revealing upper and lower fangs of a mouth that could easily stretch over an individuals’ head decapitating them with one bite, his small head was attached to a long neck that blended into a shorter torso.

“Oh my god…” I became horrified.

“That…” Azir felt a lump in his throat, “is unsettling.” he closed his eyes, turning his head away.

“That is unnatural.” Axeon groaned deeply.

“Do I frighten you, Mother?” Abraxas asked, examining himself.

“Yes…yes, you do.” I approached, “Now please, go and be careful.” I worried, not wanting to touch his masked skin, “And whatever you do, stay away from that cloud above the city, that’s where these god damn things are coming from and I don’t want you lured into it.” I backed away, standing alongside Azir once more, “Go…” I urged.

Abraxas nodded, then walked toward the chest. Climbing atop and gently gripping it by the wrapped chains, he stretched out his wings then began flapping them heavily, pushing himself into the air above his mother, Jinn and the great dragon; they sounded heavy but after he gained momentum, growing accustomed to their movements, the Zyphyn broke free from the cloaked blanket of Axeon’s wings, as he ascended higher above, veering off to his right, blending in with the horde that continued swarming. Bumping against other Harpies, they retaliated by snapping at his wings, but he returned the aggression, copying their unnatural behavior. Tilting his head, learning how they communicated through screeches and screams, he perfectly mimicked their sounds then continued on his way as they seemed pleased with what he had spoken, or shrieked.

Focusing forward on the task at hand, the Zyphyn took it only upon himself, knowing it could and would be dangerous, to take in sights of the streets below where the General’s armies and militia patrolled endlessly. His dragon sight remained, scanning each of the creatures, keeping their images and size comparisons locked away in memory for future shifts. Gazing ahead, approaching the Parliament, swiftly he followed a thick mass of Harpies that dropped off items that they thought were of importance to their Lord. However, Abraxas didn’t drop off the chest among the piles of rubble, instead he flew through the corridors searching for the intended recipient of the cargo that he carried. Frightening soldiers and Shayds that patrolled, he shrieked as they hugged their backs against the walls, avoiding his massive wings.

Sitting on his throne, watching through a hole in the roof as Harpies, Shadowed Ones and the slithering mass blocked most of the views of the night sky, suddenly his attention was focused toward the doors as one of the Harpies crashed through, carrying a chest of some sort in its massive feet. As he stood, startled by its sudden entry, he watched as a suit of armor that stood by the door, crashed to the ground from the Harpy’s wings that flapped, keeping its bulk hovering as it stayed stationary, before tossing the chest at his feet.

“What is this?!” Drakuul demanded, but the creature didn’t adhere.

Releasing a loud ear-piercing screech, the creature stared with its red eyes in an eerily, unsettling manner, then stretched out its wings once more, before pushing itself higher above the Immortals’ head, flying through the hole above him, leaving pebbles falling from the ledge of the gouge.

Covering his head, Drakuul frowned then glanced back at the chest; it laid there, wrapped in its chains in a menacing way that left him a bit unsure. Approaching it cautiously, knowing that if one of the Harpies brought it to him personally, it must have been something of great importance. Struggling to stand it upright, once done, Drakuul stood back, waving his hands around the chains, unlocking them. As they rattled loudly, falling around the chest, the Necromancer huffed deeply then knelt down, beginning to struggle with the lock that felt as if it were melted together at the seams, preventing unwanted access. Waving his hands that glowed in a dull green hue across the surface, the lock melted away from his acidic energy. Shaking out his hands, he carefully and cautiously opened the lid, releasing a pressure inside and a stench so foul, it burned both Drakuul’s eyes and nose.

Coughing as he fell backwards, he stared at the large chest, watching as flies escaped, buzzing off to find another place to cause annoyance. Covering his nose with a handkerchief, he pushed himself forward as he stood, and approaching the chest, awkwardly stretching his neck outward, his dark eyes squinted as he gazed inside revealing the most horrific sight; blood covered every inch of the interior, staining what looked to be a bright yellow satin lining, but that was nothing, it was the bulk of heads belonging to the men that were sent out searching for Marxus. Lowering the handkerchief, staring at the contents, there were maggots slithering from the severed necks and mouths, working their way up their noses and everywhere else in between. Releasing a powerful yell that was heard throughout Parliament, tightly closing his fists, he turned, focusing upward toward the sky through the hole, seeing the swarm of Harpies, wondering where the beast could have found this.

“They are here…” he whispered, lowering his gaze, “they must be.” he turned, storming out of the room, down the corridors until he had found his way outside. Scanning the sky, he searched for the Harpy that delivered the chest of a gruesome find but the beasts resembled one another for they were all duplicates of the one before it, which is how he grew his numbers so vast.

“Lord Drakuul, is there something wrong?” a Shayd inquired nearby.

“There was a Harpy that delivered a chest.” Drakuul turned to him, “Did you see it, did you see where it went?” he approached.

“My Lord?” the man frowned in confusion, “They are everywhere…” he scanned the skies, “and they all look a like.”

Grabbing the man by the collar of his uniform, Drakuul sneered as he stared into the man’s wide brown eyes.

“I know that, but this one in particular was different.” he groaned, “I created these things to obey Matrx that’s true, but…” he pushed the man away, “this one?” he turned, scanning the sky once more, “It was not one of mine.” he folded his arms, “It knew EXACTLY what it was doing, and where it was going, and who to deliver the chest to.”

“Chest, Sir?” the man wondered, “What chest?” he fixed his uniform.

“It doesn’t matter.” Drakuul barked, turning to the man, “Bring my brother to me, and make sure he gets there or I will add you…” he threateningly approached the man once more, menacingly placing his hands on his shoulder, “to their numbers or feed you to the starving Nightwalkers that have yet to be fed.”

“Y-yes, Lord.” the man nodded, then turned, quickly scampering up the steps back into the Parliament building, rushing down the hall to the Generals’ quarters. Once catching his breath, he banged loudly on the door.

“Who’s that?” a woman gasped, looking down at Matrx.

“It doesn’t matter.” the Frenchman sat up, pulling her close.

“Matrx…” another woman purred as she crawled up behind him. As her hands wrapped around his neck, running down his chest, her lips kissed his neck while he kissed the woman that straddled him, “Tell them to go away.” she argued, leering toward the door, continuing to hear the loud bangs.

Matrx said nothing, feeling the pleasure that the two women brought. As he was pushed against the pillows, glancing at the woman above him, he smiled then closed his eyes, moaning deeply, leaning his head against the pillows.

“General Matrx!” a man called out.

Opening his eyes, leering toward the door, the knocking would stop.

“F*ck me…” he complained deeply.

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” the woman laying beside him, kissed his muscular chest while the other woman still straddled him, “Hmm, my Lord?”

“Lord?” he mocked, “Yeah, right.” then he glanced at the woman atop, “Get off…” he tapped her hips. Hearing her faint complaints, he groaned, then climbed out of the bed, reaching for a robe that lay nearby on one of the chairs, “I’m coming!” he shouted, hearing the persistent knocks. Storming toward the door, he swung it open and barked impatiently, “What!?”

“Sorry General, but Lord Drakuul requests your presence.” the man answered quickly, then glanced past the General’s shoulder, seeing the two woman lying naked on his bed, waving flirtatiously at him.

“Does he now?” Matrx frowned, paying no attention to the soldiers’ wandering eye, “Did he say what for? Someone didn’t wipe his a** the way he wanted, and he wants me to kill them for it?” he mocked as he leaned against the door frame, rubbing his neck.

“N-no General.” the man huffed, “He’s claiming one of the Harpies delivered a chest that was…”

“Shh…” Matrx mocked, “just shut up.” he closed his eyes, “I will be there in a moment.” he glanced at his bare feet.

“Now, actually.” the man urged, “He wants to see you now.”

“Now?” Matrx’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Yes, Sir.” the man nodded.

Glancing down at himself, seeing he wore only a robe with nothing beneath it, he groaned then turned toward the bed.

“Don’t go anywhere, we’re not finished.” he ordered, the swept out of the room, slamming the door. Following the soldier through the halls, ignoring the stares from passing soldiers that observed him in just a robe without any armor or weapons, he swiftly arrived where he was summoned to be. pushing open the doors, he wasn’t afraid to let Drakuul know that he disturbed by his abrupt summons and at an inappropriate time, “I’m here, what do you want?!” he commanded, then pinched his nose, catching the foul scent, “Ugh, what the f*ck is that smell?!”

“THAT!” Drakuul stood alongside the chest that he had placed atop the table in the center of the room, keeping his back facing Matrx.

Covering his mouth with the sleeve of his robe as he approached the table, he peeked his head inside then stumbled backwards in disgust, finding a nearby trash can in the corner of the room. Leaning against the rails near the chairs, he shook his head then swallowed deeply, as he turned to Drakuul.

“Where did that come from?” he groaned in complaint.

“What’s the matter, Matrx?” Drakuul mocked as he slowly turned to the General that always had a strong stomach, “I’m guessing that you couldn’t find your clothes.” he eyed the Frenchman up and down.

“Yeah, well…” Matrx moaned, shuffling forward, “I was with two of my women when you summoned me, so I’m sorry if I came as is.” he clenched his jaw, then peeked inside the chest once more, “Looks like we wasted another unit, or four.” he managed to reach inside and skim through the heads, “Delano-Dakari was a tough bastard, and a powerful Shayd.” he looked at Drakuul, “Whoever did this, must be in possession of some great skill and magic to beat him and his men.”

“So it seems, but you were right.” Drakuul forced the words.

“Oh?” Matrx folded his arms, “About?”

“That sending them was a mistake, you were right and I should have listened.”

“I’m sorry, but…can you repeat that?” Matrx mocked, placing one of his hands to his ear, “I didn’t hear you.”

“I never expected this.” Drakuul complained, ignoring Matrx’s slur.

“Where did this come, who delivered it? Matrx questioned, “I heard something about a Harpy?”

“Yes, and that’s what I’m trying to figure out.” the Necromancer let out a deep huff, then explained the deliverance of the contents of the chest, “And since there are thousands of them out there, I don’t, and can’t, find out which one it was but this was found in the Captain’s mouth.” he reached out, handing Matrx a lump of fabric belonging to one of the sails that was stained with blood.

Pushing the chest aside, playing the fabric on the table, Matrx picked at the corners, slowly unrolling it to reveal a message that had been written, or smudged, YOU LOSE. He frowned, resting his hands on the table, staring at the words then glanced at Drakuul.

“Interesting.” Matrx muttered.

“That’s it?” Drakuul barked, “That’s all you have to say?!”

“What more do you want me to say? You want me to say that I was right? Why, you already did so there’s no point in repeating myself.” the General complained, “We’ve just lost a fleet of our finest ships, four units of Shayds and another orb of Shadowed Ones so excuse me if I’m finding this…” he gestured at the chest and fabric, “a little interesting.” he turned, sitting in one of the chairs. Adjusting his robe, making sure it hid his naked body, he finished, “Shame on you.”

“Putting aside the I TOLD YOU SO, that message should tell you that there IS something out there protecting what we’re looking for.” Drakuul had a gleam in his dark eyes, “And they got close, too close.” he paced slowly, “Which means either they found the location, or we are underestimating these people, they could be here.”

“I doubt they’re here.” Matrx argued, “This wasn’t done here. I think reports from other units on the outskirts of the city, and those that’re out in place as spies would have sent word of they were here.” then he realized that now was a good time to mention news he had found, “I have news that might lift your spirits, if you’re interested.”

“Oh?” the Immortal grew curious.

Standing quickly, Matrx revealed the findings of the tunnels and that if dug out properly, they could somehow be useful.

“And you’re waiting now to tell me this?” Drakuul approached.

“You never asked, so I didn’t tell you. But now this…” Matrx stood by the table, tapping the ledge of the chest causing the heads inside to roll from the movement, “gives me something to look into. I will have my techperts examine the recordings on our end, see if they had managed to record anything useful.”

“Techperts?” Drakuul wondered curiously.

“Yes, techperts.” Matrx studied his brother’s face, “You know, tech-experts?” he shrugged, “Eh, whatever. Look it up in the dictionary, I am pretty sure it’s there and you might learn something aside from your spell craft from Lexa’s book.” he grinned, then slammed the chest lid closed before turning away. Strolling out of the room, down the hall, he returned to his room where the two woman lay in his bed, “Get out.” he affirmed roughly, pointing toward the door.

“But why?” one of the women purred, climbing out of the bed, “We were having so much fun, weren’t we?” she ran her hands down his chest, attempting to untie the robe.

Grabbing her wrists, he glared down at her.

“I said…out.” he pushed her away, then reached for their robes and after tossing them toward the two women, he stomped toward the door, swinging it open, “Out, and don’t make me say it again.” his voice barked. Watching as the women covered their slender and hefty naked bodies, he raised his left eyebrow, admiring their bodies move in ways that he liked. After they tied their robes, standing in the hall, he slammed his door without looking back as he disrobed, throwing it on the back of one of his chairs. Walking toward his radio phone, he made a call, “Make sure my armor and weapons are ready.”

“Yes, General.” a man answered.

“Bring them to me immediately after their cleaned and prepared.” he ended the call. Laying the phone on the table he turned, retreating to the bathroom. Stepping into the shower, he felt as the hot water grew in temperature, flowing upon his head and body. Running his fingers along scars that streaked across his skin, he remembered each warrior and battled they belonged to. Raising his head, letting the hot water pound against his face, he spat it from his mouth and wiped his eyes, then turned it off. Staring at the shower head that dripped slowly, he stepped out, grabbing a towel. Wrapping it around his waist, letting the air dry his skin that tickled his muscular build, his warrior braid hung wet down his back, with stringy bangs hanging in his eyes but then he combed them back, blending them with the hair atop. As he stared at his reflection, he grinned then swept out of the bathroom. Dressing in black underwear, he received a call, “Yes?” he answered.

“General, your armor and weapons are ready. They’re on their way to your quarters as we speak.” a man spoke quickly.

“Excellent.” Matrx nodded, “Ensure the men are also fitted for war.” he demanded, “I want no delays this time.”

“Yes, General.” the man adhered, then ended the call.

“Finally.” Matrx grinned, staring across the room at a random space.