Chapter 12

  After a few utterly delicious pancakes, I was ready for bed. But Mum insisted that I talk to Lucan first. With the growing tension of potentially having my door busted down at any moment, it was imperative that I spoke to him and got him back on my side. I wasn’t going to admit it to Mum but I was absolutely terrified that I was going to have to battle my mana into submission again, because I knew for a fact that I was not going to be able to do it a second time fuelled by nothing but a few lemon and sugar topped pancakes.

  I agreed anyway, perhaps against my better judgement, but I set to finding that feeling once again, it was easier this time to find that space. My mana was even more willing to listen, no longer a raging ocean, unable to be controlled, but more like pouring out a cup of water. Calm and docile. Even an idiot like Lucan could handle it like this.

  I stood up from my spot on the floor, announcing to Mrs Garrett, whose mouth was open as she watched me work, a soft mumble of “incredible” tumbling from her lips, that if she doesn’t hear from me in the next twenty minutes then everything has gone terribly wrong and I’m a lost cause. I also told her to delete my internet history as a joke but got a scowl sent at me, or it would have been sent at me had she been looking the right way. I just chuckled as I left the room once again masking my terror with badly thought out jokes. The door seemingly opening and closing by itself.

  The shadow form, although now complete still took immense amounts of concentration to keep up. It was harder than before, having not moved from my seated position last time other than to stand up, but I managed it. It was a rather odd sensation. I felt no different than normal, but when I passed the large mirror that was hung in the hallway all I saw was a fuzzy black figure with no discernable features looking back at me. It was rather disconcerting. I looked two dimensional, it was a really strange sensation to be both three dimensional in shape but be rendered completely flat.

  Mind fuckery at it’s finest.

  I open the front door and slip out, keeping my movements as small as possible. Not wanting to draw attention to myself. I knew I was just a shadow but it still made me incredibly nervous to be outside. I spotted a binder patrol at the end of the street and hurried next door. I moved to enter the house through the back door, like I had the first time I went round Lucan’s. The thought that the door might be locked flitted across my brain and I hoped that it was left open. I tried the handle and celebrated internally. It was unlocked.

  Result.

  I move quietly. I may be invisible (or there abouts) but I’m not soundproof. My footsteps echo dully with each step. My eyes and ears are on high alert for any sign of the anyone. I wasn’t sure if Lucan’s family had work or school but I wasn’t risking it.

  Stalking slowly through the kitchen and into the religiously decorated hallway smirking at the thought of their faces if I suddenly appeared in the middle of breakfast. Would they scream? Curse my bloodline? try and burn me as a mage? I notice the door to the living room was open. I slink to the edge of the door frame and sneak a quick look in. Empty. I carry on my search. I head towards the dining room. Systematically sweeping the bottom floor as silently as possible.

  I can hear a soft rustling of paper and the clank of a spoon against crockery coming from the room. Someone having breakfast? The door was slightly ajar but not enough for me to see who was seated. I open the door cautiously. It creaked as it moved and my stomach dropped a little. It was Lucan’s dad, Markus, reading the newspaper and shovelling cereal into his bigoted, fat mouth. I felt myself frown and had to fight every impulse in me to lob something at his stupid head.

  As if sensing something, Markus looked up from the paper. I shrink back, and I hear him mutter to himself before he returned to his reading. I let out a small sigh of relief and head towards the stairs. My steps make the floorboards underneath groan a little. Strikingly loud in the silence of the house.

  Just as I’m about to reach the bottom, I hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps coming down the stairs and I start to panic, worrying that I might be spotted, my mana flickered dangerously in response to my anxiety but I pushed it down. Now was not a good time. With how the hallway was laid out, the only place for me to escape to in time to avoid me being seen would be the dining room.

  I could now see Gweniveve coming to the end of the steps. I was running out of time to think of something. The hallway was narrow but I figured if I breathed in and wished with all my heart that she doesn’t touch me as she goes past, I may be able to get away with just sliding up against the wall.

  So I do, pushing my body as flat against the wall, sucking in to make myself as flat as possible. The spell might make me seem like a two dimensional shadow but I had no idea if I was or not. She skips towards me, arms swinging beside her as she hums, making her way towards the rooms. Her arm grazes me – a ghost of a touch, but it was enough to send the icy hand of fear scurrying up my spine. Had she felt it? Was the jig up? My heart was pounding as she passes me, oblivious to the contact we shared. I let out a tiny sigh of relief and I move away.

  That’s when it happened, my shoulder knocked a carving of the Church of Puritans symbol from it’s position on the wall. It breaks in half as it hits the laminated floor with a crack, making Gweniveve scream in fright, like a warning siren in the night. I hear heavy footfalls as Markus rushes out the dining room to investigate, I bolt up the stairs as silently as I could. I can hear Markus’ booming voice behind me scolding Lucan’s sister for being careless and breaking things in the house. Too busy disciplining his daughter to notice the shadowy figure making it’s way steadily upstairs.

  I reach the landing. I had been here for too long and I was conscious of the amount of time I had spent with the spell active. It was becoming harder for me to maintain the cloak around me. Strain gnawing at the edges of my focus. I needed to talk to Lucan and get out of here as soon as possible. I’m less careful as I start to rush, pushing open doors roughly before moving onto the next one.

  Of course the last door I check was Lucan’s room. His room was decorated with posters from bands to blockbuster films. It was messy. Something I was expecting from Lucan. There was a simple desk strewn with notes and chair. A laptop was open and Lucan was hunched over it, scribbling furiously in a notepad beside him. He had headphones in. I could hear the very subtle sound of a musical soundtrack playing through them.

  I shut his door behind me with a click and allow myself to relax, but only slightly. Any minute now, one of his family members could come bursting through the door. Time was precious.

  He didn’t look up from his notes, his headphones and music blocking out the sound. His head was bopping along and he would sing the odd line under his breath as he worked. I knew I needed to get his attention but I needed to do it in a way that wouldn’t cause anyone to come sprinting in. I knew from past experiences with the boy that he was a total wet lettuce and would scream at anything.

  Although, honestly, if I heard the disembodied voice of my neighbour coming from beside me, I’d scream too.

  I spot a pen and a notepad on the floor. I set about writing a note. Thinking that I could just slide it in front of him without scaring him badly enough that he screamed.

  Lucan, It’s Veylyn. Don’t make a sound but I’m right beside you. (look for a shadow). I need you to come to my place. Will explain everything once you’re there.

  I slowly slid the notepad in front of him and I watched him jump a foot in the air, pulling his headphones free of his laptop, music started blaring out the speakers. His head was whipping around to try and spot whatever the hell just put that notebook in front of him. Eventually I spotted his lips soundlessly moving over the words I had written. He looked around again, a wild look on his face until he spotted me.

  “Veylyn?” he whispered, he reached out to tough the shadow. Then thought better of it and retracted his hand

  For fuck sake, what part of “Don’t make a sound” did he not understand? I swear, if Lucan stood in the wind his head would whistle because of the empty space between his ears.

  “Yes. It’s me” I hiss back at him “Now shut up”

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Lucan’s face was a mixture of emotions. Confusion and fear being the main contributors, his voice was shaky when he spoke next “I don’t understand. What- I mean, how did you-?”

  “Lucan, please. I don’t have much time.” I interrupt as I hear the muffled stomping of Markus’ feet coming up the stairs. My whisper was through gritted teeth as I strained, starting to struggle to deal with the increasing shifting of focus and resilience it was taking to keep myself cloaked. I was starting to feel like I had on the field, like the claws of the beast were at me to escape. “I promise, I’ll explain everything when you get to mine.”

  He swallowed and nodded, determination flashing across his eyes. “Take the window, there’s a small shed beneath it that drops you right over our garden fence. That’ll stop you from being spotted by my family. I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

  Lucan, my man! Finally being useful.

  His window was above his bed, draped with blackout curtains partially drawn. I hurry to the window and open it. Dropping myself swiftly to the shed below just in time as I hear Markus burst through the door.

  “Lucan, who are you talking to?” Markus questioned, his tone strict and demanding.

  “No-one dad, I was just singing.” Lucan stammers sheepishly. Trying his best to sound embarrassed.

  “Don’t lie to me, boy!” he growled “I heard two voices in here. Now, who the hell were you talking to?”

  I didn’t stick around long enough to find out what excuse Lucan was able to come up with, I drop down off the shed roof but land awkwardly on my feet, rolling my ankle painfully. I let out a grunt of pain. My concentration slipping for the briefest of moments and my mana lashes out forming it’s tendril like limbs again, tiny sparks fill the air, crackling around me and I shimmer into view for a second.

  “What was that?” Markus’ head poked out the window in search for the sound. His eyes squinting into the sun as he scans the area. I flatten myself up against the wall of the shed, hoping that the angle of the shed would protect me from being spotted by the man above me. I block out the argument between Lucan and his dad and instead focus on binging my mana back under control. Taking in deep breaths and forcing myself to slow my heart rate and calm my mind, I coat myself in shadows. It’s harder this time. It hurts.

  I risk a glance up at the window and spot that it’s empty. I can still hear them arguing. I make a break for it, sprinting back towards my house, hobbling on my damaged ankle. Lucan’s back garden and mine were separated by a small alleyway that led out onto the main street. I swing around a lamp post and dive towards my house. I could feel my careful control beginning to slip and I needed to uncloak before I exploded like I had back in the cornfield. I had to get home now, before it was too late and I take out the whole street. It was all piling up on me, the lack of sleep, the constant magic use from my hours of practice, the immense concentration I needed to keep in order to stop myself from disappearing forever. It was all becoming too much. My mana was rearing up out of the ashes of my crumbling resolve.

  I fling the front door open, slamming it shut behind me, pain flooding through my veins as I wrestle the ticking time bomb in my chest. I double over in pain and I let out a roar of agony as the tendrils of magic wrap themselves around my limbs like chains. They were cold and drained me of what little energy I had left. Bursting out of my back like some great tentacled beast. The limbs are wrapping around my throat, forcing my head up as I scream in panic, my breath ragged and uneven. My eyes catch Mum’s and I try to beg for her help, but no words escape only cries of pain. I could feel her comforting hands on me but still the mana fought to take me over. Invading my ears and digging into the flesh beneath my eyes forcing them shut. It slipped into my mouth and nose and I couldn’t breath, gagging as the magic clawed down further and further, obscuring my windpipe and filing my lungs with its icy touch. My vision was starting to blur at the edges as my lungs screamed for air. Begging for the smallest slither of oxygen. It’s all I can think about in my panic but it doesn’t let go, like a vice around my chest.

  I can feel myself starting to slowly float upwards towards the ceiling but I’m too busy gagging and writhing in pain to notice. I struggled against my bonds as I tried in vain to escape the clutches of the beast within. I lashed out with the remaining energy I had. I could feel hands on my face, my only anchor to the world beyond this sensation. They attempted to rip the tendrils from my mouth and keep me grounded but it’s no use. I feel like I’m being ripped apart – muscles pulling and straining. My ligaments twisting and tightening. My bones creaking and groaning.

  This was the end.

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  They appeared in the swirl of colours and shadows, celestial and radiate. Impossible yet inevitable. They oozed power and decorum. The two figures were the same height. Their faces obscured by masks. Simple in design but etched with words of forgotten languages and impossible mysteries. The left figure gave off vast amounts of light, like a burning star, able to burn out your eyes if you even glanced at them. The right figure seemed to absorb light, like a black hole. Capable of sucking you in forever. They balanced out each other to perfection.

  The figure of light held a staff topped with a crystal made of every colour imaginable and every colour that wasn’t. Dressed in flowing robes of pure white, it was sewn with glowing spirals that never stayed still. They flowed like the ocean across the gown. Tiny reflective gems littered the robe, mostly at the hem of the robe and becoming fewer and further between as they travelled up.

  The figure of darkness held a scythe. Its blade was maddeningly sharp, as if it was capable of cutting through the very fabric of time itself. Their own robes were black in colour. As if it was absent of all light completely. Improbable to comprehend. It was decorated with bones, some human some animal and some of unknown origin. It was lightly sprinkled in specks of dust or ash, subtle greys amongst the black.

  The figure in black raised a pale, waxy, bony and almost translucent hand and their voice dripped with endings and hope. The figure in white did the same their own hand, bright and full of life. Their voice sounded like beginnings and joy.

  The creature’s tentacles thrashed and whirled at the sight of the two beings. Ripping and shredding at its mortal skin. Threatening to break free of its bounds. Desperate to escape from its fleshy prison and away from the figures.

  Calian, the God of light, released a powerful wave of regenerative energy. Healing Veylyn’s wounds before they had even began to form properly. They were softly chanting words unknown. Veylyn felt at peace, their panic instantly dissolving into nothingness, their chest filled with a warmth like that which they had never felt before. Their soul content to sit at the sideline as the beast kept on fighting. It whipped out tendrils of mana and magic but to no avail.

  Morana, the Goddess of death, spoke to the beast as she bound it in chains made of bone and spirit. The beast roared. Guttural and full of hatred for the pair. “Your imprisonment is inevitable Ryykuthal. Why fight against the beginning and the end?” her voice was calm as a tomb. The beast just kept roaring and thrashing, it’s defiance not faltering. “You must follow the rules. For they were made for all of us, Ryykuthal”

  Calian held Morana’s hand in his. Their powers combining as they fought against the wily creature. A slash of light caused the creature to let out a shriek of pain while a stab of dark forced it back inside Veylyn. Slash, stab, retreat. The process was slow. Each blow weakening the creature until it slithered back inside completely, retreating to the safety of the flesh prison it was bound to. Veylyn lowered to the ground. Their eyes the brightest blue. Alert and awake now.

  “Veylyn.” Calian commanded. “You must prove yourself to Ryykuthal. You must bring Him under your control. He is weak now, but do not let that fool you.”

  “His power will not break you, child of Ruinfall” came the voice of death “You will mould it to you, like a sculpture. He is yours to control, like he was ours to make. Prove yourself worthy of Him”

  Veylyn’s bright blue eyes shone. Their face expressionless as they reach towards their chest, their hand passing through their ribs like they were merely a spirit, slowly the large head of a monster came clawing and fighting against the terrible grip Veylyn had around its throat. It’s head had horns protruding from it, that spiralled to the end of sharp points. Four eyes, black with no pupils sat above a mouth and nose of pincers and tentacles. Their knuckles were white as the creature screeched and shrieked. Veylyn’s arm was outstretched, holding the creature above them.

  “Obey...me” Veylyn’s voice was powerful yet flat, like they were just a puppet. The creature roared and struggled more, panicking as it felt the power dynamic shift out of its favour.

  Veylyn’s eyes flashed and their face split into one of rage as they brought the beast in closer. Blue light and purple strikes of lightning poured from their body “Obey me!” they bellowed. Shaking the walls, scorching the floors and damaging picture frames and decorations.

  Ryykuthal cowered and went limp in their hand, letting out small whimpers. It’s black eyes darting between the two gods and the vessel. Veylyn loosened their grip on the creatures neck, absorbing it back within themselves

  Veylyn glided slowly to the ground, their eyes gradually returning to their original colour. The fight was over. The beast was under their command. Veylyn lived.