“The body is just a mask we show to fool the world.”

- A memory of the Old Ones.

***Carinthia***

***Sely***

Oilell turned out to be a meddlesome individual. Even now at the breakfast table, she is fawning over Annia and me as if we are queens. Both of us got the largest rooms I’ve found so far in the castle. I can’t complain, even though I am not yet done with exploring this place. The fact remains that the place is disturbingly empty. “Just how many people lived in this mansion?”

The brownie smiles with a sad expression on her face. “The main family consisted of thirty one individuals with Edan Bathomeus as the clanhead. The branch family with forty-four members was led by his brother in law, Kelvyn Bathomeus, originally Kelvyn Armanno. He married into the clan from Italy by taking Edan’s sister, Fiacre Bathomeus, as his bride. Normally the women move to the other clan, but Edan didn’t trust the Armannos to treat her well.”

“Wow. That’s quite big for a clan of Old Ones. Even the Hammons have… had only fifty two members.” I guess I have to subtract the seven who died when they tried to take us back. Magnus informed us yesterday that one of our hunters got away, which explains why he took us in. It’s likely that he already has a war with the Hammons on his hands, simply by killing their people. Though I guess that just killing them could be seen as defending his territory.

I don’t think that the clanhead will let it slide in any case. Not with what’s at stake. Us, the artefacts, his reputation… he has a lot to lose. I look up and study the big dining hall with only Annia, Oilell, Magnus and me. Magnus was right when he said that he doesn’t want to live here. Even with the four of us, everything feels much too big.

“So what happened to the Bathomeus clan?” I ask. “They had contact with other clans up until the end of the Second World War. Then they fell silent and the Veil was strengthened, only allowing Old Ones with serious determination inside.”

Magnus studies the wall from his side of the table. “The branch family rebelled and tried to kill off the main family,” He states with a dry voice, his eyes focused on something far away.

***Carinthia***

***Magnus***

“I hate these family feasts, Dad.” I complain and gesture with my glass of wine at the dining hall. The assembled clanmembers are feasting and singing, having a good time. I curl the corners of my lips downwards. “I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if at least one of them had learned to sing in the last five-hundred years.”

Dad laughs and pats me on the back with one of his paw-like hands. He is a big man, and strong. I know that the gesture wasn’t meant rudely, but it causes me to stumble forward nonetheless. “You have to learn to have fun, youngling. Where did I go wrong with my fifth-born. You simply can’t appreciate a good Celtic feast!”

I shake my head and take a sip from the wine. “It isn’t wrong to keep up with the times. Otherwise we might wake up and find out that we are outdated and can’t keep up with the world. The human culture is evolving fast.”

Edan makes a dismissive gesture. “I was there when the humans celebrated the birth of their so called saviour. I’ll be there when nobody remembers even the blurred history of the event.” He turns and walks off into the crowd, shaking his head with the long grey mane he calls a hair-do.

Scratching my head, I search the partying people for someone to have a decent conversation with. The clan celebrates every midwinter as a whole family. Instead of caring for one’s own business, everyone gathers at the main mansion to partake in the festivities.

I guess I can spare one day of the year if it makes the rest of the family happy. There is no point in fighting about it. After all I am just the fifth son. Heading over to my little sister, Marla, I engage her in a discussion about the new rocket technology which is being developed by the Germans. It’s funny how these humans come up with the strangest concepts in times of war.

Of course, rockets aren’t an entirely new concept, but the cool thing is that they are the first who actually made it work. Entirely without magic.

We talk for a while and the time flies by as we change subjects. It’s an hour later when I have to sit down because I feel drowsy. The wine must have done a number on me. Did I really drink that much?

That’s when the screaming starts. I look up to find the source of the commotion, but half of the partygoers seem to have the same problem as me. And then my father walks into the middle of the hall like a drunkard and falls, revealing a knife in his back. I try to get up, but my body doesn’t obey and slides off the chair.

As the darkness closes in, I see Kelvyn following my father, while his closest followers subdue the few members of the main family who aren’t drugged. He bends down and pulls the knife out of my father’s back. Pulling up Dad’s head, he places the knife at Dad’s throat and starts cutting with a slow sawing motion.

I want to scream at the fat pig. In a fair fight he would have never had a chance against Dad. No, this isn’t even a fight. It’s plain murder.

The blood flows freely like a well, making the scene unreal. I want to jump up and stop all of this, but I am a prisoner inside my own body. Scanning the scene with my eyes, I find that everyone of the main family was taken down. Mother is nowhere to be seen. Even some members of the branch family are on the ground. Probably those who weren’t trusted enough to join the plot. The bone of my father’s spinal cord poses a problem, but after a few seconds the blade finds the soft tissue between the bones and my father’s head comes off.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Then the darkness closes in.

Something cold splashes all over me. “Wake up! Little Magnus. We’ve questions to ask.”

Blinking, I take in the dark room and recognize my cousin, Leigh. He is a more athletic version of his father, Kelvyn. I never liked the bastard. “What?”

He backhands me with all his might, but I don’t fall off the chair. Iron chains are chaining me to it. Blue runes on my manacles light up when I try to use my magic. I feel my magic being expended, but there is no effect.

Leigh digs his fingers into my hair and pulls back my head. “Don’t waste your time. I finally get to have a little chat with you.” He yanks at my hair. “So, now you will give me the password to operate the Veil.”

“I don’t know of any password. Did you forget that I am just a fifth son?” I spit blood in his face.

He steps back and walks out of my field of view, returning with a pair of pliers. When he heads for my hand I realize what he intends to do. I try to ball my hand to a fist, but it doesn’t stop him from getting hold of my pinky. Not interested in having questions answered, he twists until the pain becomes unbearable. I scream, then something snaps and I pass out.

When I regain consciousness it’s the same question. “Tell me the password to the Veil.”

I look down at my pinky. It’s whole again. I am not that old and I wasn’t sure that it would heal correctly without setting the bone. Neither was I ever in a real fight, or was interrogated. As a member of Bathomeus I had to endure a lot of cruel training and I even broke my leg once. It hurt, but it happened fast. It’s quite different when it’s done slowly and deliberately.

“Don’t ignore me, you deaf bastard.” Leigh pulls a knife and stabs me in my guts. Just like that! I am still trying to comprehend the reasons for his actions when he twists the knife. I retch at the pain and blood comes up my throat. I choke on my own blood. He snarls. “Oh, we will have a lot of fun.”

When I open my eyes, he is there. This time with a hammer. He asks the same question as before and I deny any knowledge of a password. Then he uses the hammer on my knees and then on my jaw.

I start cursing the fact that we Old Ones can heal from so much.

After a while it becomes routine to wake up and endure his torture. I don’t even know if it’s day or night, or how often I fell unconscious. It feels like an eternity, but maybe weeks later something is different when I wake up. It isn’t just Leigh who is in the room. Kelvyn is also there.

I sneer at him. “Bastard,” I rasp with my dry throat. Leigh doesn’t bother to feed me enough.

Kelvyn walks up to me and bends down. “I can end this, you know? All you have to do is to tell me the password to the Veil. Your father somehow locked it when he died. Originally we thought that Fiacre can control the Veil once he is gone. She is his sister after all. But sadly she can’t. Seems like it has something to do with your line of the family tree.”

I snort. “Just make a new Veil, idiot.”

He clenches his jaws. “The Veil is connected to this reality marble. So when we revolted, all doors closed and we were locked inside. It’s in your best interest to tell us how to get out. Or do you want to be locked up in here forever?”

I pull on my chains. “So all I have to do is to wait.”

Kelvyn’s face turns expressionless. “The others said that too. But they didn’t last very long after I started to pay them personal visits. Believe me, being in Leigh’s care is actually a holiday. You are the last one until I put another theory of mine to the test.”

The last one? “What do you mean?”

“That once your line of the family tree is gone, the control of the Veil will go over to Fiacre. The others of the main family were just as stubborn as you, but they didn’t have the resilience to back it up. I am afraid they already perished. So I’ll give Leigh three more days to get the answer and then I’ll finish this. Either you tell us the password, or we put my theory to the test.” He turns around and leaves the dark chamber.

Leigh grins and approaches me with a hook-like tool. While he gets to work I try my best flee somewhere else in my mind.

This time I don’t awaken to cold water. Someone is slapping my cheek. “Wake up! He is coming!”

Upon opening my eyes, I find aunt Fiacre bent over me. She is fumbling at my shackles with a key in her hand. Searching the room, I find nobody else. No Leigh. Is this a trick? Are they letting me escape to open the reality marble for them?

I blink as Fiacre opens the shackle on my left hand. Apparently my legs are already free. Why is she doing this if she is on their side? They obviously thought that she would help them. Otherwise they wouldn’t have orchestrated such a plan. I feel rage welling up inside me. Rage at the betrayal. Rage at the ridiculousness of it all. Rage at the pain.

My aunt opens the last shackle.

I reach up and snap her neck and she actually manages to look surprised. What did she expect?

As her body crumbles to the ground, the door to the chamber opens and Leigh enters the room, surprise all over his face. A haze of red sinks over my vision and I roar as the hate overcomes me completely. I channel my magic for the first time in weeks. My scream isn’t human, isn’t like anything that belongs to Earth.

Leigh raises both hands to erect a shield, but my hands are covered in energy and I break right through the barrier. I try to claw off his face. He is older and faster, catching my hands in his. Grinning, he forces my hands apart and away from him. That’s when I realize that Magnus isn’t an Old One. Magnus is just a skin. Something that the thing I really am shows to the world. This ancient rage and fury is the true me.

Revealing my own teeth, I lean forward and chomp down on his throat. The thing I am tells me that a battle isn’t decided by skill or power. It’s decided by the simple fact of who is the more vicious one.

When he lets go of me my hands plunge into his sides. I claw and tear until his chest is a ruined, empty cavern, then I head on, searching for the next one.

***Carinthia***

***Sely***

Magnus reaches for his orange juice and pours it down his throat. Having done so, he sets down the glass extraordinarily carefully. As if it takes a lot of effort not to crush it.

“And then I killed them all.”

He sighs as if a weight is gone. “If you excuse me? I actually have things to do. Like playing games and using other means to distract myself.” He stands up and leaves the room.

Annia looks down at her plate. “I am not hungry any more.”

Reaching for my neck, I massage it because it went a little stiff during the story. “I admit that asking such a question wasn’t the brightest idea I’ve ever had.”

Suddenly Oilell is at my side and pats my shoulder. “But that’s the longest he ever talked about that particular event. Up until now it was always a taboo to speak about it, even with me. He must like you a lot.”

I try to smile. “I don’t want to intrude, but why do you stay in this place, Oilell. Isn’t it hard with such a history.”

The brownie shrugs. “I have to. My race gets their strength from the people we bond with. The stronger our master, the stronger are we. I am bonded to the Bathomeus bloodline. Though most of us brownies hide in the shadows nowadays and serve the humans as house spirits. It’s much easier to get by.”

I raise an eyebrow. “So you are very good at hiding? Is that the reason why everyone thinks that your race is extinct?”

She smiles, showing her golden teeth. “We are indeed very good at hiding and at running away. To my shame I must admit that I only returned to the mansion when everything was over. That’s why Master prefers not to see my face. I think something inside him broke in that chamber.”

Then she changes the subject. “You have to meet the other servants of the house! And I’ll show you around the mansion and the gardens. Otherwise you might not find your way around. It can feel like a maze if your aren’t familiar with the place.” She dashes to the door and opens it, expecting us to follow her.