THE SANCTUM EMERGES
5:15 PM
Pranav Jaboodi walked through the long winding corridor of the establishment, low ceilings and stark white lights in the corners causing a low thumping headache to slowly emerge, he walked quickly, a few sheets of paper in hand, he was a man with a nonsense last name so he compensated for it with a no nonsense attitude, he had a grim expression on his face, if the readings were correct they could have a serious mess on their hands,
A fellow mage walked by, the both nodded a the other 'report for the Legatus' he asked Pranav, he nodded again, as they both walked away he felt the anticlimax of the simple nod, if he was correct the whole world could be overturned by tomorrow,
he kept walking adamantly straight forward, the corridor grew and the lights got dimmer until he found himself standing in front of an ornate wooden door, a relic of the olden days, it was almost 50,000 years old, surviving even the great fall, runes in a language lost was etched on it,
it was used as a simple door,
two sentries stood on either side clad in red armour hold a silver halberd in the left and had a short sword on their right, the high Legatus's personal guard, even though they wore visored helms he could feel their gazes on him,
he swallowed and reached for the doorknob, the sigils on his palm shone blue as he touched it,
if the sigil didn't match up the sentries would chop him to bits before the pain could register,
he relaxed as the doorknob clicked open, he stepped through, behind the door sat the most powerful man in the magical world,
the high Legatus of the sanctum,
it was a giant room with wooden panelling, an onyx table sat in the middle of the room covered in neat stacks of paperwork, another relic of the olden era, on the shelf above magical instruments sat who had long since lost any energy,
he sat in front of him, nose deep in paperwork, he looked up from his paperwork at him and then looked down again, "Mr Pranav" he said his voice booming and strong " I never thought i would see you here", "neither did I sir" he replied,
"is that a spiritual feedback report under your arm" high Legatus asked, his voice sent ripples down his spine,
he nodded in reply
"why do you bother? we know Crimsonfell is a magic negative zone" he said already more invested in the paperwork,
"thats the thing sir" Pranav said fighting down a smirk "Crimsonfell has reactivated",
his eyes shot up and he threw the paperwork to the side, he surely had his attention now "are you sure?" his voice grave, "yes sir, the school is the source of the ripples sir",
he sighed, placing his palms on his face "this can't be happening again" he muttered to himself "please sit",
Pranav asked as he seated himself "what should we do sir",
"well only a few things can be done" he said his hand crackling with yellow light,
and he shot Pranav point blank,
he sighed, pulled out his kerchief and wiped the blood from his hands, in the days to come the handkerchief -he was quiet sure would prove insufficient.
he pressed a buzzer beneath the desk calling clean up, brought out his phone and pressed speed dial, "Crimsonfell has emerged... no this isn't a damn joke" he took a deep breath "look a man is dead, move the sword, Whittaker and Crescent are local right? send them to the school, I don't care that they are offline we have another emergence her and the last one i haven't been able to clean up after 6 years!" he hung up,
"sorry Mr Pranav, you just fell down the rabbit hole" legatus felt an headache coming up
"goddamnit do I have grab a mop myself for some bloody clean up!"
the boy
he ran like his life depended on it, flames and screams roared behind him. he turned a corner and pressed his back to the wall two seconds later a wave of fire scorched the corridor.
he took a deep breath "yeah Vik, go to your hometown, get some closure solve a wraith infestation, it will be a piece of cake, screw you Raghav",
he turned and immediately regretted it, at the end of the corridor- a very long and freaky corridor stood a wraith staring him dead in the eye, it lifted a clammy and rotten hand toward him,
The form of the dead girl in a write dress started to change, a black pigment came out of her eyes, ears and nose. she lifted off the ground turning into a black twisted and vile thing,
"well fu"- the wraith roared at him, he spred his arm to the side, the knife forming in his palm,
too slow
the wraith was rushing towards him at an alarming rate
too slow, the familiar weight of it fell into his hand,
cut loose "shut up", the wrath was inches away, the smell of miasma rose into his nose,
his sight came on,red strings appeared around the wraith,
duck,
he ducked and felt the air shift as the claw of the wraith raked the empty air, he came up with the knife cutting at he thickest string, the wraith swung again black razor sharp claws, serrated and poisoned with miasma, he didn't dodge, it was physically impossible,
mere inches from his face the claw collapsed into dust. The wraith looked at his face confused and dread spreading across its face as the sand started to flow through the body of the creature until it was blown away in an unseen and unfelt wind.
he sighed, collapsing against the wall breathing deeply until he heard that ungodly screech he looked to the right an felt goosebumps spread across his body, standing in front of him were fifteen wraiths, they open their abysmal mouths showing only darkness.
the one in the front of the pack aimed a long bony claw at him,
its eyes were red like burning embers in a snowstorm.
He felt his hands tremble and shake vigorously, his heartbeat pounding like war hammers, he felt his chest quiver and heave fear and dread rising like waves,
and he was loving every second of it,
slaughter
he felt the weight of the knife in his hand feeling a lopsided grin spread across his face. And he ran towards them.
************************
he walked out of the shattered doorway shaking ash out of his hair, he turned to look at the wreckage of the barracks. somewhere through the whole thing he had set fire to the place, even he didn't know how.
the residents of the colony stood a few feet away their Gentry at their head,
kill them
if he was right about this whole thing he would have to do just that.
he took a deep breath, put his hands in his pockets and walked towards the man he was about to murder.
the man put his hand in front of him flashing a toothy grin "well i have to say son, when they sent you i had my doubts, but you have done us a great service."
he took the hand "how many did you kill ?"
all color drained from the mans face, "w-what are you talking about?", he tried to take his hand back but Vikrant held tight,
"the Airich knows that negative emotions create wraiths, however the exact amount is unknown, how many of those girls did you kill?"
"you are insane"
the boy was surprised by his own speed, he kicked the back of the mans leg pulling him downwards to his knee, simultaneously he drew his knife pulling his head back striking for the throat,
in four seconds he realised he was going to slit the mans throat, it took him six to stop...
a droplet of blood moved down the handle of the knife falling to the ground. he looked up to see the man still breathing, the voices a mad maelstrom in his head quietened to a dull distant noise,he took a deep breath.
"how many?" he found his voice surprisingly steady
the man at this point had become corpse pale, he spoke "59"
the colony burst into gasps and murmurs to only fall silent as a morgue at one look from the boy. he looked at the man and pulled his knife back sheathing it at his waist."how many of you knew?"
silence, deafening utter silence,
he nodded to himself "thats how this colony has magic, you guys don't use DUST, you siphon the excess energy from the wraiths to power your petty spells and charms, a colony of psychopaths."
"what i did was for my colony, for freedom" said the gentry
"you wouldn't understand what its like to be without it" said another
he called and immediately felt the power of the core run through him, he looked at the people his vision sharper and clearer. black strings rose from every person, it would be so easy to just...
he shook out of his stupor feeling his eyes bleed from brown to a blue-green borealis,
the crowd burst into bedlam some turned to run, snatches of monster and demon was spoken, he took a coin out of his pocket and opened his palm "push",
the coin shot out of his palm straight into the sky as the people collapsed on their hands and knees shuddering from the weight of the coin shooting through the sky,
he pointed to his eyes "these mean i don't, however it is not my understanding you should seek" he spread his arms wide as a screech came out of the burning wreckage "its their pity"
the wraiths shot out of the building tearing, ripping, killing, vengeful. in 15 minutes all that was left of the colony of Liara on the outskirts of Crimsonfell was a ghost town.
the wraiths disappeared one by one until only one remained, she flew towards him reaching with a clawed hand and in a voice that sounded almost human it said "I am sorry" and then she too disappeared.
And he was left alone "isn't everyone",
he took a deep breath as he knew what was coming now, he heard a rattling sound as he looked down on his shaking arm with the knife in it,
he fell to his knees as a wave of tremors and voices tore through him like a violent maelstrom shaking him to the very core, he felt something drip down to his chin, his nose was bleeding, he fell down on his back feeling the pain course through his tattered psyche moaning in pain,
yet this was the price he had to pay, the price of magic in the fused continent.
his eyes suddenly focused as a wave of light blasted forth in front of him, he took an unsteady step forward and stood up breathing heavily, through pain and gritted teeth he called on as his vision changed, crimsonfell was glowing, and that meant one thing.
"time to go home i guess"
THE GIRL
the old wing was a place of myth and legend grounded in its gruesome history and 3285 sq meter of red brick building complex and greens-in the weird resident fauna could be called that-as was any place with 'the old' in its name in the fused continent,
tales of bodies of intruders impaled on the outer boundary wall or feral beasts escaping inside the forlorn premises and only bones returning were abundant within the town of crimsonfell however the most devout believers of the core to the most mundane of normies would be hard pressed to disagree on the matter that the place had a sense of subdued violence to it.
it felt as if someone had shaped a thunderstorm to resemble a building, people reported feeling a sense of vulnerability when passing by the building, goosebumps would erupt and it was even a rumour that a Vanar had fled the town with only the skin on his back when he saw the place,
through its history of multiple murders and attacks of a stabby variety no one could remember the town without the building not even the town archivist whose age ballpark depending upon the distance to the nearest place of liquor was 156 to 6969 years, the innuendo was not lost,
similarly no one could remember anything being done about the evil presence, talks to removal or reconstruction found themselves being diverted to other more pressing concerns like- the runaway baker's daughter returning with a substantially larger belly or is that a hellhound staring with murder in its eyes at us from the wing's gates?
thus it was the common consensus of the town to stay away from the building and to avoid taking about it due to worries about stray hellhounds. normal residents of the town would consider it extremely foolish to say enter the hellish building alone at six in the evening disabling all the protective and alarm runes and sigils painstakingly attached to the old wing even the recently installed ones after the debacle with the indestructible hellhound through an uncanny skill with runes, sheer grit and luck alone on a dare...Maya Thakral was not as her mother liked to say very bright
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