Secrets of Ravenstone: Keeper of La Tecla (The Key) Book One

The following days went by and things immediately, in between spending my nights, and sometimes my mornings with Anthony, required my attention, and they were tedious tasks, but I had help. It was one day while I was in the study, sifting through paperwork sitting on the desk, when the large painting of Marxus’ wife and daughter uncovered itself, as it demanded attention.

Hearing Zanzabarr growl, and Abraxas shriek, I raised my gaze, glancing across the room, and for a moment, my heart stopped, because the painting contained a new addition to the piece. Standing, walking around the desk, I approached with a warm smile for there he was, Marxus, in the same portrait standing behind his wife and daughter with hands placed upon their shoulders, and warm grin of joy.

In that moment, I knew without a doubt, this was his way of sending me a message, that he was at peace, and had finally reunited with his family.

“Way to go Marxus, way to go.” I whispered softly then for a moment, I was caught off guard, hearing someone knock on the door and enter without permission. Turning to the door, I watched as it swung open, and holding my breath, having a flashback moment of Nathan standing there, Leonus’ tall 6’6 bulk swept into the room, “Oh, it’s you.” I sighed in relief, “It’s all right…” I looked toward Zanzabarr and Abraxas, who wouldn’t let what happened before, occur again.

“Expecting someone else?” he barked, “Your love, perhaps?” he frowned, then wondered why she stood before the set of paintings. Taking heavy, slow steps toward her, cautiously paying attention to her wolf and dragon who laid near the desk, his blue eyes saw for himself, “By the heavens, is that?”

“Yes.” I replied, folding my arms.

“Are you sure it’s?”

“Yes.”

“But how?”

“This is Marxus, you and I both know he still had some tricks up his sleeve before he…” I paused, “well, I’m sure this was one of them.” I finished, gesturing at the portrait.

“I’m sure it was.” Leonus moaned, “You’re at peace now, and I give you my word that under my leadership, the new Keeper will do fine.” he reached out, placing his fingers on the frame.

“Your leadership?” I questioned, glancing up at the Scotsman, “Seriously?” and before he could answer, a wooden statue of a horse, flew from its place on the mantle of the fireplace. As it landed at his feet, I looked around, “Wh-where did that come from?”

Slowly picking it up, Leonus knew.

“I carved this for him when I was just a lad.” he muttered. As he raised his gaze, searching the room, he realized that it was a personal message from Marxus, to him. Somehow, he knew that the Immortal didn’t agree with his last statement and as he strolled toward the fireplace, returning it to its place, his blue eyes scanned the room once more and briefly looking at the painting, Marxus’ expression changed from a warm grin, to a stern frown, “I think I…I’ll go.” he continued bluntly as he stomped across the room, slamming the door behind him.

“Okay.” I called out, then gazed at the painting, thinking that it could have freaked him out. As a matter of fact, I felt a bit creeped out, feeling as if this was a Dorian Grey vibe moment, so once covering it, feeling their eyes watching me, I returned to the desk, petting Zanzabarr’s soft fur and stroked Abraxas’ scales beneath his chin, “Now, where was I?” I raised a curious brow, then continuing to sign several pages there was a loud, heavy creaking. Lowering the pen, my eyes scanned the room, listening to where it was coming from and as I watched my wolf and dragon, their eyes veered to my left, toward another bookshelf that seemed to pop open, jutting away from the wall, “Oh look at that, another secret door.” I pondered to myself. Grabbing onto the ledge of the shelf, I pulled the weight of it open, revealing another door made of black Ebony, intricately carved without a speck of dust. Attempting to push it open, it appeared locked and as my hands felt around, there was no handle, “What’s with all the secret doors in this place with no handles?” I mumbled, while I continued examining the surface, “Ah, wait…what’s this?” I felt a nick, or hole. Kneeling down, studying it, there it was, a small keyhole and realizing that it fit the only other key in my possession, the skeleton key, I removed the medallion and chain from around my neck. Retrieving the key, placing it in the lock, it was a perfect fit. Turning and hearing a click, the door slowly pushed itself open, “Cool.” I smiled, slowly taking steps into the room.

Standing there, it baffled me, the beauty behind this door. It was a suite three times the size of those in the dwellings, with the walls and floors of gray stone, with a tall, grand matching fireplace to the left, where black, Gothic wing back chairs and a round table sat before it. There was an elaborate chandelier above, hanging from the arched roof, with elegant light fixtures. Two large windows, on either side of the large balcony doors, let in beams of colored light from outside, illuminating some of the rugs on the floor. A soft glow from small wall lanterns, added their own touch of beauty. Ahead, sort of out of center, was a king-sized poster bed with fitted sheets, and blankets of various blues and golds, looking as if it hadn’t been slept in for ages. Walking in circles, taking in all of this magnificence, I noticed another entry, more like a short hallway where along the length, on both sides, were wardrobe cabinets, leading to the massive bathroom that was separate from the room, with a roman tub set in the stone floor, two sinks for him and her, and a large step-in shower with smoky glass doors.

“I’m guessing this is the Keeper’s suite.” I told myself, then I turned, hearing Zanzabarr and Abraxas enter the room; they examined the environment, taking in the new scents before Abraxas landed on the chandelier, “Uh-uh, down…” I quickly snapped my fingers, then clapped loudly, “outside, go on!” my hands chased them out, and once their forms disappeared, I quickly glimpsed through the wardrobes but they were bare, and empty, not even a sock was left behind, “Seriously, not a thing? Interesting.” I wondered where Marxus kept his suits, much less that white pea-coat, “Interesting.” I closed all of the cabinet doors, not wanting to be sucked into Narnia. As I took steps across the room, I left, watching as the door closed itself, “This is so weird.” I grinned, shaking my head while I locked it tight. Pushing the bookshelf back in its place, it was best to leave it alone, secluded and hidden. Returning to the desk, I glanced at the calendar, for the days were quickly passing. Perhaps the distractions of everything that’s taken place has just been so overwhelming, that it pushed things along, I didn’t know. But before my leave, I had limited time to get things done and organized, “November.” I sighed softly, knowing my time here on the Isle would need to be excused, because it was, the magical practitioners had made their decision to go on the trek to Ireland for their annual ritual, “What do you think?” I looked at Abraxas, tapping a pen against the surface of stacked papers, “Should we really go?” I contemplated the departure two days hence.

“I can’t say, Mother.” the dragon answered, perching himself on the edge of the desk, “But where you go, Zanzabarr and I will follow.” he bowed his head.

I smiled, knowing they would, even if that meant Hell.

Days later, I made the arrangement with Leonus, instructing him to keep track of the cargo and shipments of supplies at the harbor, he would need to make sure they arrived on time. Nothing more, nothing less.

Nick and Caleb, as well as Justin, I left in charge of the blood supply since I knew Leonus would destroy the shipments that came in from the mainland.

I also knew I could rely on Thomas and Anthony, leaving the two Italian brothers in charge of RP&V as Managers, asking them if they could keep things in order, and since Thomas owned and ran his own business in the village, I trusted him enough to know he would handle it professionally.

As far as Jonathan and Erik, I asked them to work closer with the Guardians, keeping the order of things according to all of the rules and guidelines that Marxus had put in place, for the two Demons I knew I could trust with such matters, plus the supervisor Wyatt would make sure they keep up their end of the request.

Just when I thought things were arranged, a Frenchman miraculously appeared in the manor, standing outside in the private lounge by the study.

Sitting at the desk, flipping through more paperwork, it was then I sensed powerful magic. Raising my gaze toward the door, a man stood there without being announced. Lowering the pen, I stood from the desk, becoming alarmed.

“Excuse me, may I help you?” I reached for the letter opener, then studied the man that took slow steps through the open doorway. He was tall, with a medium build dressed in black steampunk suit, with a red Templar cross pinned near the lapel. Trimmed scruff complimented his handsome features, and his shaved head and stature gave him the appearance of a man with military background. Carrying a black leather suitcase handcuffed to his left wrist, he turned, closing the door for a moment of privacy.

Turning to her, his dark eyes scanned the room then widened as he caught the sight of her dragon and wolf laying nearby. Clearing his throat, he offered greetings and introductions in a formal manner, strictly keeping to a first name basis only.

“Good afternoon, Mademoiselle. I am Bartholomieu.” he bent forward, offering a polite bow.

“Good afternoon, Sir.” I laid the letter opener on the desk.

“The Order of Men sent me here upon Marxus’ request.”

“Order of Men?” I stepped back, gesturing at the chairs, “I’ve heard that before, and it sounds very Templar.”

Sitting in one of the chairs, he said nothing at first.

“Yes, I suppose it does.” he looked around, not having been in the study for many years, “The Order of Men was founded by the Castillion bloodline, did you know that?” he looked at the young woman sitting in the large leather chair.

“No, can’t say that I do.” I placed my hands on the desk, then clasped my fingers, “How can I help you, Sir? You were sent here upon Marxus’ request for what, if you don’t mind telling me, cause I’m still out of the loop on some things, and if I’m going to be dealing with Templars, surely now is better than ever.” I leaned back.

Bartholomieu grew a faint smirk, then turned to his suitcase, gently laying it on the desk. Opening it with a combination code meant for his eyes only, once the case popped open, his hands reached inside, removing four folders filled with thick stacks of papers. As he stood, adjusting his suit jacket quickly, he froze, hearing Abraxas’ deep hisses as the dragon crawled across the room toward the desk. Watching as the creature climbed up the chair, perching above the young woman, his dark eyes studied the dragon, before gently laying the folders on the desk before her.

“I must say, he is a fine creature.” he admired the dragon with such surprise.

“More than you know.” I praised, “Now what is all of this?” I peeked through the first folder, reading phrases and lines of paragraphs that were beyond my comprehension in business and legal terms, “Am I selling my soul on the dotted line?” I meant it as a joke then gulped, seeing signature lines that had been highlighted.

“No.” Bartholomieu sat, “These are the deeds to the Isle, fund transfers, and paperwork that declare your rights to all of the airspace above and around the island, including holdings that are vast around the world. Once you sign, they will all be in your name.” his French accent made that revelation sound smoother than expected, “All you have to do Mademoiselle, is sign and it’s fini…done.” he removed a pen from his pocket.

“Every page?” my voice quivered curiously for there must’ve been quite a few hundred in each folder.

“No.” he handed her the pen, “I know this overwhelming but all you have to do, is sign and initial on the first few pages…” he urged her, “and then it fills in all of the rest. Think of it as a magical imprint throughout our system, a method of which I set up for Marxus and if it helps…” he raised one of his dark, dramatic eyebrows, “he too, in the beginning, found it rather complicated but it’s convenient. Now please, sign. I cannot be long, I have other places to be.”

Taking the pen, feeling baffled, I couldn’t believe Marxus had the time to do all of this. Obviously he must have had all of this prepared months before I arrived, or maybe afterwards. I glanced at the clock, two hours passed, and the necessary T’s were crossed and I’s were dotted, leaving a case of a writer’s cramp in my hand but flipping through the rest, I watched as my name and initials magically signed themselves on all of the appropriate lines.

“Excellent.” Bartholomieu praised. Slowly standing, reaching for the folders, he stacked them neatly, then placed his hands atop. Closing his eyes, with glowing hands in a faint green, he searched through all of the papers with a searching arcane spell and growing pleased, he nodded, opening his eyes, “It is done.” he tucked the folders back into the suitcase, snapping it closed quickly.

“So now that I signed all of that, does this mean I have to be forced into joining your Templar Order?” I wondered bluntly.

“No.” he turned to her, “You have no rights to the Order, for you are a woman and we, the Order of Men, do not recognize a woman at our table. Unfortunately.” he answered bluntly, “A Keeper is one thing, but a member to the Order is another.”

“Bluntly answered and still chauvinist, but thank you. I have enough to worry about anyway, than having to think about all of that.” I stood.

“Not chauvinist at all, just old world.” Bartholomieu grinned, “Now that everything is signed it’s all yours, Mademoiselle. It was a pleasure meeting you.” he bowed, “And if by chance, there is anything that you need, dial this number and speak your name.” he removed a black card from his pocket with no markings or business information, just the letter B printed in gold on one side and the number on the other.

“Thank you, Sir.” I accepted the card, “And I know you’re a busy man, but may I ask you something?”

“Depends.” he wondered, waiting patiently.

“What’s your rank? Because I sense it all over you, it’s old.”

“I…” he stared into her dark eyes, “I am a level five, and one day, you will discover a lot within yourself, something that is far more than I, and there aren’t many level five Demons in this mortal, and supernatural world.”

“What could be more than level five?” I questioned.

“No one knows.” Bartholomieu muttered with a frown, then a loud beep came from his pocket, “Things are done here, have a pleasant afternoon.” he backed away, disappearing in a tall, bright swirling green flame that added a dramatic flair to his exit.

“What’s next?” I glanced around then turned to Abraxas, “Is Lucifer going to rise from the depths of Hell, wanting me to sell my soul?” I sat back in the chair and within a brief blink, a stack of folders appeared in a heavy thump with a note that was tucked inside an envelope placed atop. Reaching for it, I read the words:

“Mademoiselle, Yzavela…

Here are copies of your documents. If you have questions about any of the estates or properties, and financial accounts, do not hesitate to let me know and I will try to answer as soon as I can. It was my pleasure.

-Bartholomieu”

I smiled, then accepted the fact that in some way, without the formal acknowledgement, I was part of the Templar Order of Men, but not in any active membership. I spent some of the time I had left in the study to glimpse through some of the documents, exclaiming and squealing in surprise for some of the properties Marxus had owned were in France and Spain, with share-holdings in various companies that have proved over the centuries to be a steady source of income, as well as several substantial bank accounts that made me the richest woman on the planet above all.

“Oh…my…god.” I mumbled, leaning back in the chair, laying the papers in my lap, “Wow…” I smiled, then I leaned forward, stacking the papers and folders, placing them in the safe, changing the combination afterwards for only my access, knowing that if Leonus got his hands on them, I’d be f*cked and have no proof of ownership to the Isle.

Later that night, before meeting up with my mom, I took my first ride on Axeon and holding onto his spikes tightly, I was out of my mind doing this, I’m terribly afraid of heights but as I felt the wind brush against my face and Axeon’s steady glide, the fear subsided. Opening my eyes, I held out my arms, hollering out in cheer and excitement then glanced to my left, watching as Abraxas flew alongside. Flying above the island, I realized just how enormous it was, studying the landscape, mapping everything in my mind.

Heading East, was the housing community, and Ravenstone’s Port and Village (RP&V) with the peaceful shoreline.

Facing West, was the vast and expansive Ravenswood, with old ruins of some sort near the rear parts of the island, closer to the treeline.

Going Northeast, you could see the tall lighthouse and small cottage that provided living quarters for the Guardians.

North, you would find the massive stables and farm where a substantial amount of livestock and horses roamed in their pens and corrals.

Heading Southeast, would take you to the Isle’s prison house.

And venturing South, you would find the island’s cemetery, a place where Marxus allowed the residents to bury their loved ones’ ashes and personal trinkets, not wanting bodies buried in the ground as food sources for the Boar-wolves.

Among all of the structure placements, nothing but open landscaping scattered with patches of trees and high cliffs. The tall braziers marked their paths, leaving a pattern that in a moment as Axeon hovered higher, resembled that of long branches of a tree. I smiled in amazement, understanding the responsibility that has been placed upon my petite shoulders. Glancing below, I could see movement through the fog that crept across the island, knowing it was the Boar-wolves; the beasts scampered around in massive numbers, causing their usual ruckus and loud disturbance with their squeals and grunts. I didn’t realize there were that many.

“Take me to the mainland.” I instructed Axeon telepathically.

“Are you sure?” the dragon wondered, “I do not think that is wise.”

“I’m not going to the Great City, I just want to see.”

“As you wish.” Axeon groaned, then turning his body, he flew across the Irish sea, cloaking his form but as he hovered close to the water, he left an indented path across the surface from the force of his flight, before flying higher back into the air.

The smell of the sea was salty, but refreshing.

Reaching the mainland, I could see the smoke rising from the Great City looming in the distance where blimps and many of the Lords’ flying machines hovered above the city and other parts further out. Soaring toward Whitehaven and Penrith, they had been untouched by the destruction and just as I had instructed Axeon to return to the island, the great dragon in a rough jerk, hovered in place, as he and I both, including Abraxas, heard loud, ear-piercing roars screaming from the Great City.

“Mother, what is that?” Abraxas’ soft voice wondered.

“A monster.” I answered, as he flew, landing in my arms.

“Monster indeed.” Axeon groaned, “We will return to the Isle, and that is all I will hear about it.” he turned his head, gazing upon the young woman perched upon his back.

“Yes.” I urged. Reaching forward, feeling the dragon turn his body, I glanced back, following the length of the his tail, for I needed one last look at what I had left behind.

Utilizing his dragon’s speed, Axeon returned to his cave that dwelt beneath the island.

Slowly climbing off his back, sliding down his scales, I turned to Axeon petting his snout, thanking him for the experience.

“You are welcome, young one.” he bowed, “It was an honor to share this flight.”

“No, the honor was all mine.” I smiled then glancing down at my watch, I was ten minutes late for meeting with my mom. As I rushed up the stairs with Abraxas, entering the study, I scampered through the manor and across the property, and as I entered the dwelling’s lounge, she sat at the kitchen table, “I know I’m late, I’m sorry.” I rasped softly, sitting next to her.

“It’s all right, I figured you were busy.” Lady D muttered.

“Meaning?” I wondered, looking at her.

“Sweetheart, do I have to say it?” Lady D looked at her.

Feeling my face blush, knowing she meant Anthony, I cleared my throat as I looked away momentarily before answering in a soft whisper.

“No, I was not.” I tapped my fingers on the table then quickly changed the subject, “Are you packed for tomorrow?”

“Most of it, just have a few things left.” Lady D sipped her tea.

“I haven’t yet, I’ve been so busy in the study lately, I can’t…” I sighed heavily, running my fingers through my hair, “even think straight.” I looked at her.

“Well, I’m sure a good night’s sleep will help clear your mind.”

“Exactly, which is why I’m going up stairs.” I stood, carrying Abraxas, “I love you.” I leaned in, placing a quick kiss to her cheek.

“Love you too.” Lady D whispered. Watching as her daughter headed upstairs, she shook her head, “Mm-hmm, she won’t be getting any sleep.” she took the last sip of tea then returning the cup to the sink, she rinsed it out then retired to her room where Freya laid on her bed, purring upon her entry, “Are you ready for another adventure?” she picked up the feline.

Much later that night, Anthony and I spent the last night we had together. Laying in his arms, we spoke about everything that is going to happen and how it’s going to change. Leaning on my elbow, looking at him, I wondered.

“I hope that doesn’t mean we’ll change?”

Gently stroking her cheek, he offered her a charming smile.

“You can’t, and won’t get rid of me that easily.” he reassured, “I’m here to stay, and I will be here when you return.”

“Well, you know what they say…” I ran my hand down his chest and stomach, “absence makes the heart grow fonder.” I flicked my left eyebrow flirtatiously then leaned in, sharing a passionate kiss as I straddled him. Feeling his hands caress my hips, then work their way to my waist giving a brief tickle, I let out a soft giggle then held onto him as he pushed himself up, wrapping his arms around me.

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” he repeated softly, “I am sorry but…”

“Shh…” I placed a finger to his lips, “I know.” I kissed him, “I know…now stop talking.” I held him close.

The next morning came quickly for the departure; all of the witches and warlocks, including Lady D and her daughter, all gathered down by the harbor, beginning to board the ferry.

My friends were saddened wishing they could join me, even joking about some of the adventures that we could share, and I wish they could come but it wasn’t their place. After sharing hugs with Jonathan, I asked him about Sarah.

“She won’t talk to me, she blames me for what happened.” he shrugged, “But it is what it is, she’ll come around. I mean, she can’t honestly think what he almost did to you, is all right?!”

“Jonathan…” I gripped his shoulders, “I can’t, and won’t, say she’s a terrible person but she’s just confused about all of this, so you have to be there for her as long as you can but there will be a point where you are going to have to step back and let her go.” I stepped back, “Don’t let her drag you down.”

“You’re right.” he smiled at her, then turned, allowing Erik to pass.

“So, how long will you be gone?” Erik asked softly.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, “The witches says the gathering lasts a few months to a year, but no longer than that so…I’ll find out I guess. It’s all part of this Keeper stuff, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah I know. It’s just going to be lonely, and quiet.” he smiled, “Everyone’s going to miss you, I’m going to miss you. I mean it.” he reached for her hands, gripping them gently.

“Erik, don’t…please.” I pleaded softly, pulling my hands away, “I thought we talked about this, we’re friends. Nothing more.”

“I know, I’m not asking for anything.” he reached into his pocket, “But I just wanted to give you this before you left.” he handed the gift box to her.

“What’s this?” I glanced down at it, then up at him.

“Just open it.” he urged.

Sighing softly, wondering if I should accept it, I opened it.

“It’s beautiful.” I admired a silver locket tucked inside.

“I know you lost the other one, probably in the cave or maybe in the town with no name, or even fighting the Hunters, so I thought maybe you’d like it.” Erik smiled then glanced over in Anthony’s direction, offering the Italian a smug grin, “It could bring you some luck you know, see where it gets you.” he finished, looking back at her.

“Thank you.” I opened it, but it was empty.

“You’re welcome.” he bowed his head.

Looking around, everyone was beginning to board the ferry.

“I should get going.” I backed away, “Take care of yourself.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Nodding, I turned, approaching Anthony who wanted to offer his last goodbyes. Being held in his arms, I didn’t want to go, but I knew that he wouldn’t let me stay, knowing that this was important. Sharing another long, passionate kiss, I softly moaned, then pulled away.

“I have something for you.” he whispered.

“Oh?” I wondered curiously, “After everything we’ve already shared?”

Reaching his hand to his neck, he removed his sword pendant. Handing it to her, placing it in her hand, he closed her fist.

“Take this with you, and know that I’m always with you. Just…” he smiled, then laughed, “don’t stab anyone with it, hmm?”

I laughed, shaking my head.

“Damn, you know me too well.” I joked.

“Yza…” Lady D called out, “Yzavela, let’s go!”

Turning around, everyone boarded, growing impatient.

“You need to go, now turn your little butt around and get on that ferry.” Anthony turned her around, whispering in her ear.

Closing my eyes, feeling his arms around me, I took several deep breaths then pushed myself forward, knowing that if I looked back, I wouldn’t leave. Grabbing my bags, and pulling Zanzabarr’s leash, I quickly boarded the ferry. Glancing into my hand, looking at the sword pendant, I immediately put it on, keeping it close to my heart. As I turned, I waved to those that stood, watching us leave.

“Anthony…” I reached out telepathically.

“Yes?” he answered, pacing the dock anxiously, then posed, placing his hands on his hips in that all too familiar Anthony sort of way.

“I want you to know that I’m falling in love with you too!” I knew my words meant something to him. Holding tightly on the railing, I watched as he took steps forward, standing close to the ledge of the dock.

“Until we meet again my darling, little Yza.” he spoke to her, closing his eyes, feeling a tightness in his chest that felt as if he couldn’t breathe.

Erik stood nearby, standing next to Jonathan and having one last chance to show how he felt about Yzavela, he quickly and hurriedly rushed forward, leaping over the railing and aboard the ferry. Approaching Yzavela, he pulled her close, showing his affection for her in a long, lingering kiss. Leaning his head against hers, he shared a smile with her, before kissing her again, feeling her leaning into.

“Catch you later, piss ant.” he rasped, once the kiss broke.

“Erik…” a voice spoke to him, “ERIK!”

Blinking his eyes, he looked around, taking notice he stood on the harbor instead of the ferry, that drove away from the dock.

“Erik?” Jonathan snapped his fingers in front of his face.

“What Jonathan?” Erik slapped his hands away.

“Come on mate, let’s get something to drink at the pub, what do you think, hmm?” Jonathan suggested.

“Y-yeah…” Erik cleared his throat, wishing the fantasy could have been reality but watching as Anthony turned away with Thomas, he knew it would never happen.

Nathan stood on the cliff away from everyone, watching as a ferry below, pulled away from the dock, veering around the island. Smoking a cigarette, he bit his lip, knowing he would get his chance to take Yzavela, and this time, there would be no one around to stop him.

“So you have a thing for wolves, huh?” he rasped with a grin, “I’ll show you then…” he flicked the ashes off his cigarette, then turned, walking away from the ledge, wincing in pain from lingering aches from the force that threw him down the stairs.

Sitting by the rain splattered windows, listening to my music, I stared out into nothing, talk about deja-vu, thinking about everything that’s happened, starting from the beginning. As I glanced down at my journal, the one I had never purchased in Whitehaven, I made notes because all of this would make one hell of a story.

“Escaping the changes in the Great City, my mom and I took a wild, arduous journey to the Isle, where I made new friends, as did my mom, and found out that I was chosen by an old orb stone that Marxus possessed. Naming me his heir, or the next Keeper of Secrets and Keys, apparently, I vowed to keep all of the island’s secrets; supernatural, paranormal, ordinary and magical. Becoming one of them, there was still no official confirmation yet if there was, or is, a creature from the black lagoon, or the crawling eye among the secrets of this world, but if there are Wraiths, Lycynians, Demons and half-breeds, even dragons, and hellhounds or Jinn, it wouldn’t surprise me.

After that, friends and I were taken on a simple journey into Scotland, which turned out to be quite the opposite, and anything but simple, becoming a wild ride through the Scottish border, where Marxus pretended to be a Professor of a GEOGRAPHICAL EXPEDITION. Once that was done, meeting the guard Scotty, we traveled through the town with no name where Marxus left us, almost to be eaten by people who ate other people. Being locked away in their god awful meat freezers, we escaped once I, for the first time, had ever used my powers in full strength, broke through the outer walls of steel and iron. Anthony…” my pen paused as I thought back on those horrific memories, “had been injured during most of it but that was when I realized I was falling in hard for him. Once we escaped, we hiked up the Ben Nevis mountains where Erik and I entered through a cave that had beheld dangerous traps that almost killed us, only to realize that it was just a trick of magic to test our will and strengths. Eventually…” I paused once more, shifting in my seat and adjusting the angle of the journal, “Erik and I were led to another chamber where we met a strange old man who a powerful Demon pretending to be…well, I don’t know what he was pretending to be, for I don’t think it was ever mentioned, but that’s when I received a rock.” I smiled, glancing at the small dragon that laid beside me on the seat, slowly flicking his tail as he listened to all of the sounds,“A rock that turned into my beloved Abraxas, he has the ability to do things that I, and he himself, have yet to discover, but all he knows about himself is that he’s a Zyphyn, aka shape-shifter, taking the form of anything and everything, but mortals.” I sighed, clearing my throat, “After that batsh*t crazy and chaotic experience, it got better, all of us fought in our first skirmish against Hunters, Lycynians that managed to catch Axeon, trapping and wounding him a horrendous net and spear through his shoulder by a dragon’s tooth. That was my first confrontation where I had killed a person, but in my mind and reality, it was justified, and I would do it again if I had to.” I paused again, taking a deep breath for I held it in during the moment of writing that entire memory, “In between those moments, it was then Anthony and I had come to realize that we had feelings for each other, so it started slowly. Returning to the Isle just in time for Halloween, I was taken upon the wall to witness, for the first time, the Lycynians and the transition. That was an experience and sight, I will never be able to erase out of my mind, for the pain they must have felt had to have been unbearable and what made it worse, my heart broke for Anthony, for I don’t think that he wanted me to ever see him like that, but it wasn’t just for him, but I needed to learn about the paranormals that dwelt on the island. However, before paying a tribute to Marxus’ memory after discovering he had passed, there was the island’s annual Halloween festival that managed to take place with joy and cheer, before it ended with the loss of not only the Master of the Isle, but also a friend.” I felt tears stinging my eyes but blinked them away,“And to top it all off, Anthony and I had finally made love in a way that I couldn’t have imagined being any better, his touch and passion drove me wild, and I will miss him…oh I will miss terribly, but I hope my absence won’t change things between us, perhaps more so on his part, knowing his background and reputation with women.” I glimpsed through the journal where I had tucked several photos of my friends, staring at one of Anthony and I while we laid against the pillows. I smiled, remembering the moment clearly as if it were yesterday, then skimmed through the others before my fingers pulled Bartholomieu’s card from between the pages, “Ah yes…Bartholomieu, the level 5 Demon that appeared, signing over the legacy and wealth of the Isle, becoming the richest person on the planet, and just when I thought that it was done, right? Of course it wouldn’t have been that easy. I received a visit from Marxus last night, while Anthony slept, delivering the last item to become Keeper, the LA TECLA tattoo.” I looked around, then over at my mom, making sure she kept herself busy; she sat reading through the book that Marxus had left to her. Glancing down, pulling up my right sleeve, there it was, below my elbow on my inner forearm, a four inch skeleton key tattoo with a cross blended with the head. I frowned, because I remember the sensation of it burning into my skin,“NOW YOU HAVE EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO BECOME THE NEXT KEEPER, AND IF YOU NEED ANYTHING, JUST CALL MY NAME AND WILL BE THERE were his last words and as I stared at the tattoo once more, I wondered if maybe that was the real Marxus or his doppelganger that appeared during his absence. It was hard to tell half the time, aside from little things, but I doubted the impostor would have given me something in relation to my new fate, but knows for sure?

Now it’s November, and my mom and I, among many of the other magical practitioners, are going somewhere in Ireland to learn things that could be useful in the future, Marxus’ suggestion not mine, and I don’t know how long I will be gone, but I do know that when I return, I’ll have more knowledge and experiences, benefiting not just for myself as Keeper but for the Isle, and you bet that I will have many new stories to tell my friends and moments to make up for with Anthony. But the most important thing I have to say about all of this, is that I have learned so far, to control my demonic nature which is why I’m going to commit to learning more about it during my time away.” I closed my eyes, feeling I had written enough then as I glanced out the window, closing the journal, I watched as the ferry approached Ireland ahead. Turning in my seat hoping to see a glimpse of the Isle, it vanished within its protective fog.

After four and a half hours of feeling motion sickness, we had finally arrived in Dublin’s harbor at Dun Laoghaire, and then from there, it was another two-hour ride, stretching a long, and tiring 140 miles until the bus that carried everyone, had finally reached a grand 17th century castle, that was rented for the length of time needed. Once the bus came to a stop, it was awkward, arriving to a new place at another castle, with new people standing outside, waiting to greet everyone as the Priest and Priestess offered Wiccan blessings and greetings.

“Here we go again.” I mumbled, looking at my mom.

“Indeed.” Lady D answered.

What’s next, more Wraiths and Lycynians? Or maybe even a Bigfoot or shape-shifters? Who knows, but this is just a new place with new stories, and another world to learn things, but walking the grounds leading into the grand castle, and with all that my mom and I have endured, I know my journey, and destiny, is just beginning.

Lord Drakuul strolled through the streets, with Matrx and a security escort encircling him as he passed city folk that spat at his feet, calling out obscenities from crowds that stood in his path. They might have been afraid of his magic, and that of his legion of Enforcers and monstrous beasts, but they would stand their ground for as long as they could.

“Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea.” Matrx complained.

“And why not?” Drakuul snapped, “I think it’s best that these low-class minuscule people see, that I’m not afraid of them, or their magic.” he leered at men and women that Enforcers had to push out of the way, “Besides, being in the open in such a way, might bring out those that are still in alliance with the Immortal.”

“Perhaps.” Matrx scanned the crowd, then began hearing chanting over the loud ruckus of voices deliberately shouting to mask their words, and before his brother could blink, there were red, blue and green bursts of magic blasting through the air towards them both, “Get down!” he pushed Drakuul to the ground.

“Abomination!” voices screamed out, “Monster!”

Enforcers leading the path were knocked back, laying still as if they were paralyzed, flinching in pain while others behind them, lept forward creating a barrier between their Lord and General, against the crowd.

“Still think this was a good idea?” Matrx mocked Drakuul.

“Get off me!” Drakuul barked, grabbing him by the neckline of his armor. Pulling him close, he just stared into his eyes before pushing him away. Stumbling to catch his balance, he stood within the circle of Enforcers, stretching out his arms, gathering energy of his own. His hangs began glowing in a dark green hue, with sigils floating around the in the air, “Is this what you want?!” he shouted loudly, as his hands grew brighter.

“Get down!” Matrx ordered the soldiers to crouch down, and just as they followed his command, covering their heads, their Lord released blasts of magic that spread out in all directions, pushing back against those that stood nearest the barrier that the Enforcers had put in place.

With his dark eyes, Drakuul leered, continuing to release his blasts of dark magic that killed or tortured men and women. As they laid on the streets begging for the pain to stop, the Lord kicked them aside as he strolled through the streets, and just as more residents attempted pouncing on him, mortal and Demon hands burned, or worse, against the Necromancer and his shield that outlined his slender form. His strange, but unique triangular pendant glowed, as if feeding the magic like a battery.

“I AM YOUR LORD AND THIS IS MY CITY!” he yelled in a loud voice that all could hear, both verbally and telepathically, “I WANT ALL OF YOU TO KNOW…” his dark eyes scanned everyone, “THAT THERE WILL BE NOTHING ANY OF YOU CAN DO TO TAKE IT BACK! YOU THINK YOU CAN DEFEAT ME WITH ALL OF…” he mocked, “YOUR USELESS MAGIC TRICKS?! I DARE ANY OF YOU TO STEP FORWARD AND MAKE AN ATTEMPT TO TAKE MY LIFE AGAIN!” he taunted, holding out his arms, beckoning anyone to approach.

“What are you doing?” Matrx stood behind him, keeping his hands upon the hilts of his Katanas, while the Enforcers that stood around them, did the same.

Drakuul’s bluff was called out, at least 50 or so Demons, men and women alike, stepped forward, gaining enough bravery to stand against him, with their hands glowing with defense spells.

“You have done enough to this city, and to all of us!” one of the women shouted out in a foreign accent, “And we will not allow you to do any more harm to any of us, or our children!”

“You’re a brave woman, stupid but brave.” Drakuul muttered, eyeing her up and down, then slowly reaching out his right hand, squeezing his fist, he grinned watching as the woman’s glowing hands reached upward toward her neck, feeling an unseen force crushing her throat, “Does anyone else challenge me, or do your women have more guts and balls than of you?!” his dark eyes scanned the crowd, leering at all of the men that stood.

“Let her go!” a man stepped forward.

Drakuul studied the man, hearing a pleading tone in his voice.

“She’s important to you.” the Lord muttered, “Wife? Sister?” he tilted his head, “Daughter even?”

“Wife.” the man, many years older, answered, “Let her go!”

“What will you give me for her life, hmm?” he threatened, “Because she doesn’t have long.” he squinted with a blunt evil spark in his eyes.

The man glanced around, and behind him, receiving nods in approval. Turning his focus upon the Immortal and Lord of their city, the man approached, lowering his hands in an act of surrender but sent words of instructions to the followers behind him that once the Immortal released his wife, to attack with everything they had. However, he underestimated their Lord.

“Wrong choice!” Drakuul spoke over the man’s thoughts then with a slight twist of his wrist, the woman’s neck snapped; her body fell to the ground in a heavy thump with her eyes left open, staring toward the man.

“No!” the man cried out as he lunged forward, releasing blasts of powerful magic that bounced off the Immortal’s barrier; the act of aggression persuaded the others around him to do the same.

The creatures in the sky listened as shouts echoed through the air, and beasts on the ground felt vibrations beneath their feet. The Shadowed Ones swooped down from the clouds, and in eerie movements, they swept through the attackers and left nothing behind but lumps of dried-out mummified looking corpses on the streets.

“Red Death!” Drakuul commanded loudly, releasing blasts of magic toward the sky, opening a massive portal, “I summon you to destroy them all!” he lowered his hands, watching as a red serpentine dragon slithered from the sky in slow, and menacing movements.

“Run!” citizens shouted, knowing the destruction the beast can cause in a single breath, “Run!” everyone swiftly, and erratically scampered, pushing each other around as they kept glancing at the sky, watching as the Red Death slithered above.

Squinting his golden eyes, the dragon exhaled streams as if it rained melting fire, burning homes, buildings, cars and even fire hydrants, and for citizens that couldn’t get inside quickly enough, were nothing but ash within seconds of catching fire. He grunted, feeling annoyed by pestering daggers, swords or spears or even shards of arcane magic that bounced off his red scales. Turning his massive bulk just like a coiling snake, he snatched the men and women in his mouth, crushing them all with a single bite before swallowing them whole.

Drakuul, who lept through a portal to avoid the dragon’s fire, appeared atop the Tower of London, watching as his most impressive and powerful weapon, proved his point to all of the meaningless residents below. Glancing over his shoulder at his brother Matrx, he said nothing more.

Matrx stood, clenching his jaw in fear because the man that stood in front of him, more and more, became the ruthless and heartless bastard he once was, although that part of him had never diminished.

“What do you think, brother?” Drakuul wondered, “Have I made my point well enough for these rats to understand?”

“Every time brother, as always.” Matrx mocked then turned.

Growing proud in contentment, Drakuul watched as the city burned.

“This is just the beginning.” he muttered with a sinister smile, “It’s my turn, and now that you are forever gone Marxus…” he closed his eyes, officially sensing the Immortals’ demise, “it will all be mine, I will find that book and the world itself will be mine!” he chuckled.

Later that evening, within his chambers of Parliament, Drakuul paced, then heard a male voice speaking to him over this racing thoughts. As he glanced around the dark room with only one lamp offering light, he listened.

“You, Drakuul Lexus, will never get your hands on that book!” the voice taunted in a deep, muffled verbal groan.

“Who are you?!” Drakuul’s eyes searched the room.

“It matters not.” the man answered.

“Marxus, is that you old man, do you think your tricks frighten me?!”

“No…” the man answered close to the Necromancer’s ear, sounding as if he stood right behind, “I am not Marxus, I am your Death and soon, you soul will be mine.” he let out a deep, menacing laugh.

Drakuul turned, feeling a breath against his neck, but saw no one.

“Death?” he mocked, “I have sold my soul, you can’t kill me!”

“I may not, but another will, and only by Jinn’s blade will you find that you are just a mortal playing the game of which you do not fully understand.” the voice answered.

Feeling a lump in throat, Drakuul never had felt such fear in his life.

“Lies.” he argued, “Who are you?!” he demanded but the voice didn’t answer for the presence had vanished, “WHO ARE YOU?!”

Rushing through the doors, Enforcers looked around the room.

“Lord, are you all right?!” one of the men questioned.

Turning to the men by the door, holding their rifles and pistols, the Immortal Necromancer waved his hand, dismissing their presence.

“Yes, I’m fine. Get out!” he ordered, “OUT!” he stomped forward. As he slammed the door, leaning against it, he locked it quickly then searched the shadows of his room, before turning on all of the lights.

Weeks later, the city folk hid in their homes, listening as night after night, soldiers and beasts patrolled their streets, continuing their havoc, destruction and home invasions. In the basements families, neighbors and friends were cramped together, while mothers and fathers held their children. They whimpered, listening as the Shadowed Ones above, slowly and eerily seeped through cracked windows or beneath the doors, searching homes, releasing their loud shrieks; the men and women hidden, held their hands over their mouths, and that of the children, concealing their cries and loud whimpers.