Tales of magic: grimoire of transmogrification

  Chapter 39

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  Arc 2 - "The hunter and the beast"

  Chapter 23- "Approaching dawn"

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  Valkyrie had her own sword run through both of them, such that the blade passed through her back, out through her chest and into Lancaster’s. Her chest plate and dress shirt were gone and she currently wore a plain white singlet to keep modest. Though, it was now almost entirely soaked with blood.

  It had been at least a hour since they had been like this.

  Lancaster’s eyes never left her.

  “What is it?”

  Lancaster’s lips curled up yet again. He was grinning ear to ear.

  “What is wrong with you?”

  “...Do you get it, now?” He replied, non sequitur.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re smarter than you look. Stop playing. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  Lancaster was still smiling.

  Athena shook her head. His smile went down a bit.

  “You were afraid of me. I was hoping you’d have discovered why by now.”

  “You’re unpredictable?”

  “No. Try again.”

  “You’re overpowered.”

  “You must be really bored to be actually exchanging words like this. No. That’s not it.”

  “... I hate this game.”

  “You’re close.”

  “That wasn’t a guess.”

  “The correct answer is; I’m insufferable. It’s one of my best qualities.”

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  1st May, 1886.

  The shapeshifter's domain,

  Woods belonging to the lord of beasts,

  Pridon.

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  Jordan stood still, not moving an inch.

  His breathing was forced.. laboured. His clothes were drenched in sweat and other liquids. Urine was one of them. So was some freakish monster’s digestive fluid. He rank, but the stench of the beasts surrounding them overshadowed his own.

  But that wasn’t a problem. Those thoughts didn’t even come up in his mind. No. Instead, Jordan was thinking about one thing, and one thing alone.

  ‘Why?’

  He felt it. The sharpness of it... Whatever ‘it’ was. It was so close to him. Just a slight movement on his part, and it would draw blood.

  The sounds of the battle ensuing between William and the surrounding monsters were somewhat comforting to him now. Of course, they were disturbing... But that was exactly what he wanted. What he thought he needed. A distraction from what could be his inevitable doom.

  Sagitta et lamina tempestatis.

  William called forth thunder from the skies. Lightning bolts rained down on the monsters all around them. Several of them died instantly. The effects of the winter wind spell had worn off, but his newest spell had managed to decimate more than half of the remaining force.

  The bodies were starting to pile up. Some monsters ate their fallen, or just dragged them out of the way to help others get closer to William who wasted no time in gunning them down. It was almost comical- the manner in which the monsters ran to their deaths. Even after seeing their ally get shot to death, they would still attack mindlessly as though they were hoping for the same result.

  Instinct, Jordan.

  “What?” He squealed. He wanted to dismiss it as a hallucination. A figment of his imagination. He would’ve, If it stopped there.

  You do exactly the same thing, don’t you? You don’t have any power but you stupidly charge in at your enemy hoping for success.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Jordan couldn’t stop shaking, hearing that voice again. It confirmed his doubts. It wasn’t a hallucination. It was real.

  It was it. The thing. I can barely bring my self to write on you, Journal. But I will. If I die today, someone somewhere will remember what I went through. I don’t know if that means something – if that ever will mean something... But I believe you have to know this.

  I am under attack by a monster.

  Yes, I’ve been in all sorts of supernatural trouble since I became a Mage two days ago. I’ve been shot, kicked, stabbed, clobbered, nearly possessed, almost burned to death and even eaten. But nothing holds a candle to this.

  It’s not common fear. It’s not terror. Fears- to me, usually have an unknown variable to them. Fear of the unknown. Fear of what you haven’t seen. Fear that disappears when you discover that that little noise you heard in your bedroom wasn’t a monster, but was just a little mouse. Knowledge dispels such fear. However, the fear that’s gotten hold of me now, is a kind of fear that exists because of what I know. What I’m sure of.

  I will die. There are no two ways about it. This thing will kill me. I haven’t had much time to think about it. But... If everyone really is dead, I’m okay with dying.

  Why am I so... Calm about this? I almost feel relieved, thinking about death. Why?

  You have given up. That’s why. Answering your questions isn’t what I’m here for, though.

  “You’re here to kill me.”

  Yes, but I want to take my time with you. I would’ve tried to break your spirit, but it seems you have done that job for me.

  His shirt folded slightly. The huge claw marks made themselves known. The claws themselves were invisible.

  Die for me, enemy of chaos. But first, give me a good cry. I can hardly think of anything to make you suffer more...but your family.

  “What about them?”

  Their deaths are on your head. My beasts must’ve killed them, but all because of you. You defied Chaos. And he wants me to kill you in a terrible manner. This is the right stage, isn’t it? Humans being killed and eaten not too far away – and you are too busy struggling to find protection for yourself to even think about the magnitude of death and suffering. Death and suffering you caused.

  “I did this?”

  Jordan wobbled on his feet. The claws kept him steady.

  His headache intensified.

  William turned his head towards Jordan. His pupils dilated.

  “I did this..”

  William shook his head, but it didn’t seem as though Jordan could hear him. He sighed.

  “Lycan. I know you can hear me. What the fuck are you doing? You forgot your promise to me? Your oath?” His eyes were fixed on his enemies. His blistered hands picked up the pieces of one of the guns lying on the floor and started putting them together.

  I’m old. Maybe I did forget. Or maybe I grew sick and tired of you coming and going as you please.

  William straightened himself and loaded the gun. His hands wobbled as he positioned the gun securely on his less tired arm.

  “You feared me. You respected me.”

  Back then, you were respectable. You were a human- but you were heartless. Now I hear you can’t kill a child. Letting him shoot you? Drinking with him? With this useless pile of flesh? Is that who you are now, William Sharpside?

  “I could still kill you now.”

  Could you really? I remember you killed hundreds of my men when you attacked my domain. And then you challenged me, battered and bruised. Anyone who saw you would think you were a lost cause. But I realised you weren’t. You still had fire in you. Fire isn’t enough. But you managed to muster up the power to back it up. Now you don’t have much power. To be struggling so much against so few of my forces. I bet you don’t have that fire either.

  William frowned. He paused for a second, his head hanging low.

  “Maybe you’re right. I lost it without even realising it...”

  He resumed his resistance. There was no sign on his face, that indicated that he was concerned about Jordan. There was no expression whatsoever. Just blank, vibrating with every shot.

  “I’m sorry, Jordan. There’s nothing I can do.”

  Jordan shook his head.

  ‘I killed them. Or rather I’m the reason they’re all dead. I’m no different from you, Mr. William. I just don’t have your power and ruthlessness. I knew it was a bad idea. I knew it was dangerous. But I only thought about myself, and my safety. And my wellbeing. And my success. I didn’t spend a moment thinking about them... Now. Now...’

  His tears didn’t stop. His lips quivered. The sweat was more than before.

  “Why?” He mumbled.

  I like to cut my food into neat little pieces before I eat it. That way, it doesn’t give me trouble when it goes down. William here, refused to back down, even in my belly. And so I had to spit him out. Lancaster is simply too poisonous, dirty, bitter and wrong for me to put in my mouth in the first place. You... You’re perfect.

  I’m done breaking you down. It’s time to eat.

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  Margaret kept her eyes shut. She had never stopped believing in the existence of a god- a supreme being presiding over the universe. Ever since she obtained magic, and discovered it was true, she was ecstatic. But then she felt bad about ever doubting her beliefs at some point in time. And she felt worse when she discovered magic itself was diametrically opposed to the supreme ruler of the universe. The god.

  She wasn’t only sad because magic was evil... No. She was sad because she felt she had lost the connection she once had to that entity...

  Is it only in their times of weakness, that humans look up to beings higher than them for help?

  Now, after neglecting her god for so long, almost without thinking, she felt the urge to pray. Margaret felt there was no way out. Power was all but completely spent. She could only use limit break one more time- and doing so might kill her. And now she was standing in front of enemies she couldn’t hope to defeat. If a miracle was ever going to happen, it had to happen now.

  “What is it doing?” One of the werewolves asked the other.

  “To be fair. It doesn’t have much of a choice. You heard the lord’s command, didn’t you?” It approached. Or maybe, he approached. Margaret wasn’t paying much attention to them anymore.

  “Well, let’s get this over and done with.”

  ‘It’s my fucking birthday.’

  The thought came out of nowhere.

  The two of them came at full force, their claws and fangs sharp, and stained with little blood.

  Margaret didn’t stir from where she stood.

  Stop.

  They stopped just before they got to her. It was so sudden. Their jaws were wide open, positioned to bite a chunk out of her body. She could feel their desire to feed. To kill. More realistically, she could feel the droplets of saliva running out of their open maws.

  Were her prayers answered?

  The noises of footsteps begged to differ. Soon, the man who saved her life, was right in front of her.

  It wasn’t her god. But it was her father.

  “...” She couldn’t speak. It was as though his very presence sucked the air out of her lungs. Did it really? She wasn’t sure. Magic was real. So maybe...

  “Margaret... Welcome home.” A human voice spoke to her.

  From that moment onwards, her life stopped making sense.

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