John covered his eyes against the stabbing lights, his ears assaulted by questions and shouts. Photographers and paparazzi crowded in front of the skyscraper. Why was he always getting blinded by paparazzi everywhere. He was never the one they were trying to catch. At least then there might be a point for this treatment all the time. There was a red carpet that led from the constant stream of cars to the front door of the art gallery. John followed the crowd into the building, giving his name at the door to enter.
Others around him produced invitations and tickets that ushers scanned to allow access. After a moment the young woman found johns name on the tablet she held. She ushered him in with a smile. The ushers at the front door offered to take people’s coats and bags. One young man went towards John and then frowned as John shrugged, in his un-tucked dress shirt with no tie or coat in evidence. If his family and Clayton wanted him here that was fine, but he didn’t formal It was way too stuffy, and it felt like you were trying to strangle yourself with the ties. He pulled his rolled-up sleeves higher up on his muscled arms and the young man quickly turned the other way, hurriedly offering help to an elderly woman .
John escaped the throng of people entering and made his way to the other side of a large lobby The space was filled with an eclectic mix of paintings, sculptures, and mixed-media installations that seemed to defy gravity. Bright splashes of color and abstract shapes adorned the walls, while pedestals supporting intricate sculptures were strategically placed around the room. The buzz of conversation filled the air as art enthusiasts and critics alike studied the works with appreciation, discussing their interpretations and sharing their opinions.
John spotted the artist, Javier Fuentes, an old man with a warm smile, standing near one of his larger pieces – a mesmerizing mix of metallic swirls and vibrant hues that seemed to come alive on the canvas under the gallery lights. Javier was a friend of John’s Aunt and Uncle and had made regular appearances at the Walker residence throughout his cousin’s lives. Javier's daughter, Crystal, had gone to high school with John and his cousins, and although they had lost touch over the years, they remained on friendly terms.
Javier was dressed in a well-tailored suit that complemented his distinguished appearance; his silver hair neatly combed back. He engaged in animated conversation with a small group of people who seemed captivated by his explanations of the inspirations behind his artwork.
As John approached, Javier caught sight of him and beamed, excusing himself from the group to greet his daughter's old friend. "John! It's so good to see you here," he said, embracing him warmly. "I'm glad you could make it, even if formal attire isn't your style," he added with a chuckle, noticing the way John was dressed.
John smiled in Javier's presence, finally seeing a familiar face. "Of course sir," he replied. "Your work is truly incredible"
“Why thank you. I think ill take that as a compliment” said a purring voice behind John.
He turned slowly, an awkward smile stuck on his face, “Hey Crystal.”
Crystal stood before him, her tanned Guardian born features accentuated by her hard built military physique and the feline grace of her magic. She laughed and grabbed him in a big hug, tiptoeing to pull him down for a kiss on the cheek. The hug lasted longer than necessary, and John couldn’t help but appreciate the feeling of her body pressed against him. Crystal was a stunning blend of elegance and strength. Her hazel eyes were captivating, framed by long, dark lashes that held a hint of mischief. Her dark hair fell in soft waves, framing her striking face and reflecting the light in the gallery. She stood tall and poised, her toned physique and confident stance a testament to her discipline and military training. It was accentuated by a simple by a simple yet sophisticated black dress that hugged her curves and fell just above her knees. She let go and John stepped back slowly, too bad it hadn’t lasted longer
“ I’m really glad you came” she said
“of course. Clay says he has some work for me.”
Crystal smiled, “Hurting for money now are we”
John shrugged, “Ive kept myself out of trouble. Did a stint as club security. And I helped Clay grab this kid with some nifty invisibility powers. He was breaking into some new home owners property to peep on the daughter. They thought the place was haunted “
“Ew. Perverted ghosts” groaned Crystal
“We managed to restrain him and handed him over to the organization. They have him now.”
Crystal rolled her eyes and put her hand on her hip, “They have a name you know.”
John rolled his own eyes and groaned, mimicking her stance sarcastically “The Nexus of Balance sounds like a bad comic book villain group.”
“They’re old and don’t want to change the name. Get over it. None of the other groups out there have names that are any better.”
John couldn't reply but yelped slightly instead and flinched in pain as a jolt of electricity shot up his arm.
“Don’t let any of the geezers hear you call them old. They get touchy when you criticize them.” Said another feminine voice behind John.
His cousin Max stepped up and gave him a hug, dragging his head down to meet her tiny height. Her sister, Clarissa, stood to the side, waiting patiently for John to extradite himself from Max’s grip before giving him a quick hug as well. She at least was closer to John’s level thanks to the large heel’s she wore. Max wore a chic, burgundy cocktail dress that accentuated her slender waist and showcased her toned arms. Her wavy auburn hair was cut in a stylish, shoulder-length bob that framed her face. Clarissa exuded a quiet elegance, complemented by a flowing, pale blue dress that seemed to float around her as she moved. Her own long, chestnut hair cascaded down her back in soft waves.
John rubbed the back of his arm, “The hell? Everyone needs to stop coming up behind me. What was that for?”
Max winked at him, “Because it’s fun”.
Clarissa just shrugged apologetically at John who grinned back. Max would always be the same. He wasn’t really bothered by his cousins pranks, even if they could be kind of excessive. It had made their childhood entertaining. Glancing behind his cousins John mentally prepared himself.
His aunt Elizabeth pushed past the two girls, as energetic as Max and just as tiny, to yank John down in a fierce hug while his uncle Christian calmly stood back.
“Oh honey. You didn’t answer any of my texts. I didn’t know if you were going to make it. I’m so glad to see you. Are you doing ok. Are you getting enough to eat?”
John sighed internally. It came from a good place, but his aunt took mothering and smothering to an entirely new level. She was the worrying type and would smother him to death with all her good intentions.
He pried himself from the 2nd attempt to strangle him in less than 5 minutes by two proven killers, “I’m good Aunt Liz. Sorry. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to come tonight. I’ve been working with Clayton, but he decided to move work to here for the night I guess.” He gave his aunt a look, “Seemed to think you would like that.”
His aunt stuck her chin up stubbornly, “I wouldn’t need to call in the calvary if you would pick up the damn phone! He’s the only person who knows if you’re alive most of the time.”
“There’s nothing wrong with liking my privacy.”
“Fine. I’ll just drop by and visit you then. On .My. Own. Time.”HIs aunt glared up at him and emphasized each word with a poke to his chest.
John paused too. His aunt could use magic too and while John was more of a sledgehammer her control over magic was as refined as a scalpel. It was her personality that could…. be excessive, just as her daughter was, in believing her magic allowed her to act a certain way. She was one of the few rarities in the magic world, as she could use and manipulate magic at a distance. Where others needed physical contact to use magic on anything other than themselves, his aunt was on another level. She created force fields, manipulating their shape and location with just a thought, regardless of the distance or size. From the descriptions of her time as a bodyguard in the Nexus of Balance, she’d been very creative in using it as an offensive weapon. Shed trapped him inside her magic to make a point multiple times. Spinning him in a circle like a hamster on a wheel while he shouted furiously at her form inside. There was a very good chance he'd come home one day to find a hole cut out of his front door, with his aunt inside griping about his inability to clean to her ridiculous standards.
“I’ll try to start dropping by more” John said quickly.
“And answer your damn phone” she said sternly with a finger in his face.
. John just smiled uneasily and nodded. She huffed and puffed but moved out of the way so that John could greet his uncle. Liz greeted Javier and Crystal, complimenting them on his daughter’s dress for the night. John followed after as his aunt an uncle talked with Javier about his newest exhibits. John hated how easy it was, falling back back into familiar roles with his cousin’s and Crystal, trailing along while the parents had the “adult” conversations.
He nudged his cousin Max and nodded at a nearby server passing with champagne,” drinks?”
She raised an eyebrow as she pulled a flask out and shook it at him” Catch up already. Its gonna be a long night.”
John led the girls away from the parents and politely emptied the serving tray of three champagne glasses, two of which he handed to each of his cousins. Crystal had been a master of self-disciple, even at a young age. Refusing to take part in the high school drinking and party phase that seemed to hit everyone else like a runaway freight train. To be fair, John thought with a mental smirk, his cousin Max was just as rebellious and impetuous now as she had been in high school. Some people just were who they were and they never stopped, it just matured as they grew up. John seemed to feed off her energy when she was around and found himself in some fun but troublesome situations. You never knew what you would get when you spent a day with Max. At least thats how it was when they were together with family. He’d heard she was a whole different person when she was on the job.
“Your dad got a big turn out today” Clarissa noted, turning to Crystal.
Crystal nodded as she made way for passerby’s ‘ “a couple dozen pieces in total, and thats just him. He brought in plenty of others. Theres 200 pieces in total here. Its ridiculous “
Max chuckled "What’s ridiculous? That he’s retiring or that people still want his stuff.”
“This whole farce that he is done with public art? Hell never be done. The man has nothing else in life but his drawing. He just likes pretending hes not going to make money off of them anymore. ”
“He can still do his own thing. It doesn’t mean he has to sell them. He’s made more than enough.”
“Think about the man who still charged you, his closest friends, entry to this event and then repeat that to me with a straight face.”
Max grunted her ascent,” ok ya. Your dad’s too cheap for that.”
Crystal looked at John and gave an apologetic shrug as he raised a quizzical eyebrow. He hadn’t been charged entry at the front door. Javier had this weird fixation on John being the perfect match for Crystal and his potential as a future son-in-law. Javier had been warm enough to him when John had met the man at 18. The man had been on top of Crystal about making money and making a future for herself. Javier had blamed John for Crystal’s decision to join the military, regardless of his late wife’s own history as a military operative for the Nexus of Balance. After John’s discharge from the military, Javier had been cold toward John. However, after a comment by his aunt about John’s father and the sons access to his very large bank accounts, the tune had gone back to that of singing John’s praises. He hadn’t ever appreciated his aunt butting into his business, and it still irritated him to think about. Everyone has a motive for what they do in life. Probably the reason he hadn’t been asked to pay to enter tonight’s event.
“I can see this being like the faked death story all over again. He hasn’t been seen on tv enough or something” groaned Crystal.
Javier had a bad habit of trying to get in the public spotlight. His art had skyrocketed him to fame, putting him in touch with many influential people. This was the way he had actually met his wife and become close to the Nexus of Balance. Javier had magic that allowed him to paint the future, and Javier had regularly sent paintings to the Nexus that gave them hints that helped them in their endeavors. Some of the art painted with his magic was released to the public, held on to until it could be faked that the painting had been created after the time of the real-life occurrence.
John chuckled, “Your dad can’t stay away from his paintings or the cameras. He thrives on it”
They had time to kill until Clayton showed up, so Crystal led them through the exhibit following the path Javier had just taken with Max and Clarissa’s parents. As the group walked through the art-filled auditorium, the atmosphere seemed to shift into a realm of enchantment. The vibrant paintings on the walls depicted fantastical landscapes and creatures that danced with vivid colors and ethereal beauty. Each brush stroke and swirl seemed to hold a hint of magic. John couldn't help but be captivated by the intricate details and the imaginative worlds that unfolded before his eyes.
A large canvas caught his attention, showcasing a sprawling meadow bathed in the golden glow of a dimming scar-light. The grass seemed to sway gently with an otherworldly breeze, and delicate flowers blossomed in a kaleidoscope of hues. It was as if the artist had breathed life into the painting, creating a portal to a realm untouched by ordinary mortals. John found himself drawn into the scene, his imagination conjuring the soft whispers of the wind and the scent of wildflowers.
Moving deeper into the exhibition, they encountered a sculptural masterpiece that seemed to defy the laws of gravity. Suspended in mid-air, delicate orbs of different sizes floated in an intricate pattern, casting mesmerizing shadows on the gallery floor. The spheres glowed with an inner radiance, their iridescent surfaces reflecting a spectrum of colors. John marveled at the craftsmanship behind this enchanting display, wondering how such delicate balance and creativity could be contained within a solid structure.
He chuckled to himself as he watched the floating spheres. He knew this was magic, created at the direction of Javier no doubt, but using a power no doubt from another magic user. People from the community would gather and offer help to Javier and his masterpieces. Nowadays with technology and magnets, you could come up with a valid scientific explanation for what Javier was showing the world. But for people like John, true beauty couldn’t be defined and captured as easily as that. John thought he saw a few pairs of eyes briefly glow various colors around the roped off area. Apparently people with magic could see it in others. John did his best to pretend his magic didn’t exist, so that was a trick he’d never quite gotten the hang of. John saw his cousins blue eyes go an even deeper shade as she stared at the display.
The person who had used their magic to create the spheres had left a rune which maintained the complex magic like an anchor. They would have had to make physical contact which each sphere, transferring their magic into the items. Magically embedded items were called Shikai. Over time the magic would run out and the spheres would fall, long after the exhibit had closed and the showpieces stored. At that time the rune would fade from existence, the etched surface smoothing over as if it had never been. John had tried his own hand at embedding magic and creating shikai of his own. It always ended in one of two ways, a handful of molten putty that tore through cement and stone like butteror something that went boom and sent him running to perform damage control before the firemen showed up.
Clayton turned over his trench coat and hat at the front and was putting an entry ticket into his wallet as John walked up to him.
“50$ to get in. $50! What the hell is that. Why am I paying to attend something he invited me to.”
John turned at the sound of the gruff voice. Clayton turned over his trench coat and hat at the front and was putting an entry ticket into his wallet as John walked up to him smiling.
“I would say it’ll go to a good cause, but why lie?”
Clayton grumbled as he walked further into the auditorium, followed by John. Crystal saw him and waved in greeting. Clayton gave her a warm hug and gestured for both of them to follow him towards a back door. Max made as if to follow while Clarissa stayed back, shaking her head at the back of her sister’s head already knowing what would happen.
“Sorry Max. Just the soldiers please”
“I’m a soldier Clay.”
He sighed and stared at her.,” I know kid, but your one of their soldiers.”
“You know me” Max whined, “I can help.”
“I do know you. Good Bye.” Clayton turned from her crestfallen face to keep goinge.
Max had seen battle in her time with the Nexus, more than even Johan had seen as part of the military. Clayton didn’t trust the Nexus of Balance or the Guardians though, and anyone that was directly tied to them. John knew it had to do with the death of his daughter but he’d never broached the subject. It wasn’t his place.
Clayton led Crystal and John away from Max’s complaining. Clarissa gave John a small wave as he looked back at them over his shoulder. The trio made there way down a hallway and entered an elevator.
John coughed intently standing behind Clayton, “So….uh. Where we going?”
Clayton didn’t turn around, “The old man painted a couple things I think you should see.
“Old?” muttered John with a chuckle. A sharp jab as Clayton threw his elbow back into John s stomach had him double over with a groan. Still chuckling JOhn straightened.
John shot a curious glance at Crystal, one eyebrow raised but she just shook her head confused. Whatever Javier had painted, he hadn’t shared with his daughter yet. They patiently waited until they reached the upper floors. John saw the number twenty-six flashing above the doors as they slid open and Clayton stepped out. He led them down another hallway before stopping at a door and taking out a key. He unlocked the door then stepped back so that John and Crystal could go in.
John stepped in and felt along the wall of the dark room for the lights. After a second, he found the switch and the lights turned on. The room he found himself in was empty of everything but a long table with six rectangular objects displayed along its length. Each was covered in a white sheet, bright under the fluorescent light. The windows along the back wall reflected the rooms light, hiding the other skyscrapers and night sky outside. White walls and floors gave the room a sterile feel.
“You ever noticed that Javier’s just a little bit obsessed with you Johnny boy?” asked Clayton as he entered after them and closed the door.
“I never noticed” said John sarcastically. Crystal just shook her head.
“That whole story you told your Aunt about a car explosion in the desert when you came over here to live,” continued Clayton going to the first object and placing his hand on the sheet, “How’d that pile of bull go again?”
John froze. This was not something he wanted to talk about. This was not something he ever wanted to talk about. Clayton ripped off the first sheet and revealed the painting underneath
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Crystal breathed in sharply and Clayton added, “we knew that story for the lie it was before you said a word.”
The painting that emerged was nothing short of a harrowing masterpiece. It depicted John, carved out in painstaking detail, kneeling amidst a merciless desert under an abyssal sky. The environment was bathed in the hellish glow of raging inferno that spiraled around him, each fiery tendril expertly captured in vibrant hues of orange, scarlet, and gold. They ascended towards the heavens, transforming the obsidian night into a macabre ballet of flames. The glassed over sand dunes were like liquid waves beneath John.
In the backdrop, a vehicle ablaze was rendered mid-air, caught in the throes of a fiery ascension. Each detail from the distorted chassis to the glinting shards of airborne glass had been painted with stunning precision. Silhouetted, faceless forms were huddled in the ominous shadows, their postures embodying a silent scream as the devouring flames danced menacingly towards them. Each stroke of Javier's brush seemed to imbue a visceral sense of dread, a moment of tragedy immortalized on canvas.
The center of this spectacle was John, his figure etched with a level of detail that hinted at a painstaking, intimate knowledge of the man. His eyes, normally calm and collected, were wide with a raw terror that was nearly tangible, their familiar depths transformed into glowing orbs of a blazing ruby. The illumination reflected the surrounding inferno, transforming the figure of the frightened teenager into an unwilling harbinger of destruction. It was a scene so impeccably detailed; it was as if Javier had been an unseen spectator to the incident, freezing the traumatic event in paint and canvas. The result was an intense piece that blended an uncanny reality with the unsettling essence of a foreboding prophecy.
John didn’t even realize he had moved toward the painting until his hand was touching the edge of the canvas. His fingers traced the flames that twisted into the darkness and could feel the heat as if transported back in time. The screams filled his ears and the smell of burning flesh stuffed his nose.
“Javier drew this 6 months before your aunt got the call about taking you in.”
“Why didn’t he ever show me this? Why didn’t you ever say anything. You could have warned me”
Clayton drew out a cigarette and lit it as he moved towards the second painting on the table. He took a deep puff and paused.
“You know. If only some of us older folks had thought of that. Your mom didn’t know what to do with that. Doesn’t look like she ever passed along the message. She seemed to take Gordon leavin pretty hard.
Without waiting for a reply he tore off the second sheet, “Well theres your fucking warning kid. Go do something with it.”
The second unveiled painting held an apocalyptic scene of grotesque grandeur. At its center, a monstrous entity blazed forth, a being of living flame that seemed to seethe and writhe with a life of its own. Its molten form surged through the grandeur of towering structures, reducing them to mere kindling in its wake. The demon's fiery tendrils licked the heavens with their fury, a pyroclastic flow against the somber, smoke-choked skyline.
The very land seemed to cower under its scorching passage, once verdant fields and dense forests now a scorched, barren wasteland. Like a dreadful tide, the demon pulsed outward, transforming life and matter into a sea of cinders. Human forms twisted in a ghastly dance of agony and despair as the insatiable inferno reached out for them, their final moments immortalized in their futile struggle against the inevitable.
From this cataclysmic figure, tendrils of obsidian darkness emerged, coiling and twisting like grotesque thorny vines. This palpable darkness, contrasted against the fiery backdrop, created a hauntingly beautiful spectacle of light and shadow. The demon appeared to be crowned by a wicked silhouette wrought of darkness, intensifying the terror radiating from the canvas.
As John’s gaze traced the monstrous figure, a shocking revelation hit you. The fiery demon bore a face eerily familiar, twisted in a mask of raw power and torment. The demon's visage held a grim determination that was shockingly human in the midst of chaos - a frightening reflection of the visage John saw in his mirror ow. Here, in this damning prophecy, John was not a man but a devil, a formidable harbinger of destruction, blazing his path through the world. The transformation of John from a child to this demon of fire and darkness was an unsettling sight.
John couldn’t speak. It felt like his stomach had dropped into the floor and he found it hard to breathe. He could feel the pounding of his heart and a throbbing in his head. He grabbed the edge of the table for balance.
“That was two weeks before you arrived in Quorluna.” Clayton smirked grimly, “if you can think of any way to explain these two paintings to a scared teenager. I would really like to know. Would have save me and your aunt some arguments over the years. ”
“You’ve been holding on to that for a while, haven’t you?”asked John, not knowing how to respond.
“The Nexus saw these.” Crystal said at the exact same time.
Crystal jerked her eyes from the painting to Clayton, “My dad showed them this. Thats why Tarik has it out for John.”
Clayton’s eyes fell and he said nothing, his interest on pulling out another cigarette. John felt like the room was spinning. The Nexus of Balance focused on the protection of the magical community from Filious Vires. Filious Vires was a shadowy organization whos roots were unknown. They worked to keep the secret of magic hidden from the world at large, going as far to kill anyone who threatened to expose this to the world. Thousands of people strong, spread out across countries and government, no one knew who they could trust. The Nexus weren’t above killing someone preemptively if they couldn’t get the magic under control, especially if Javier was giving them as vivid a warning as this. What he saw always came true and the Nexus put absolute faith in his predictions. Growing up with his Aunt and meeting Clayton he’s heard stories about the people who had lost their lives, by one group or the other because they couldn’t control their magic. Both were strongly against the killing of anyone due to magic out of their control. If this had really been painted when he was younger, he wouldn’t be alive right now. Not with this seared into their minds.
“How?”
How did they not kill me? How did Clayton and Liz block the Nexus? How could you never tell me?
“It’s partially why Liz left the Nexus” Clayton sighed, “ she promised your dad she’d take care of you. This was years before you came here. You were barely born. But when she got the call and she saw those paintings, she kept her word. Not to mention its kind of hard to kill someone if the Executioner is the one refusing to go through with it”
“The Executioner?”
“Your aunt.”
John rushed to the next painting, tearing the sheet off of the next one. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the third painting. It was older than either of the previous ones, its corners faded and worn. In the dimly lit room, his father stood tall. The large man cast a haunting figure, but what caught John's attention was the presence beside him, a sinister being that seemed to defy description. A demon, with smoldering eyes and gnarled horns, lurked in the shadows.
His father's hand delicately placed a necklace and an open letter on the nightstand beside a peacefully sleeping figure. The other hand rested on a large luggage bag; its weight seemingly amplified by the demonic aura surrounding it. John couldn't believe what he was witnessing. Right there, frozen in time, was the exact moment his father had left him. The dragon necklace his father had left behind hung heavy around Johns neck. Curiously though, John couldn’t ever remember seeing any letter when he woke up that morning.
The demon beside his father exuded an otherworldly presence. Its fiery essence twisted and contorted, weaving an intricate dance of malevolence. The creature's face bore a chilling resemblance to John's father, as if their destinies were intertwined in ways unimaginable. The demon's presence cast a foreboding shadow over the scene, hinting at dark secrets and hidden motives. One of the demon’s hands was pressed into John’s chest, as if pushing something into him. Tendrils of darkness extended from the hands into John like a sickness encroaching through the body.
Clayton gave John a moment to process the painting before saying, “Your aunt thinks your dad did something to you. She thinks he’s the reason for the other drawing and what might happen to you.”
This was too much. He could feel his heart pounding, his face going numb. His past was coming back in a rush, thrown in his face for everyone else to see. He remembered the desert. He remembered waking up to the necklace on his nightstand. His dad disappearing in the middle of the night and his mother, awake at the breakfast table and already through most of a bottle of whiskey. She’d taken abandonment harder than JOhn had. She caved knowing she would not have the lavish lifestyle she had grown accustomed to, ignoring the money and thinking the kind of social access her late husband had given her access to in the big city..
Crystal was still staring at the second painting.
“John can you do what Liz can do?”
He knew what she meant. The painting clearly showed the magic coming from his body in both of the first paintings. Not just coming from him but being manipulated and controlled from afar. Something that few magic users could do. None that John knew of other than his aunt.
John shook his head, “I can make the fire come out of me and focus until it shoots in a stream but I cant control it once im not in contact. Its goes wild, out of control.”
Clayton went to each of the other paintings in turn and took off the sheets. John couldn’t move, petrified in spot by the image of his dad and the demon standing over his sleeping body.
“Boy you need to look at this one.”
John stumbled over and looked in the direction of the painting not really seeing what Clayton was showing him. Finally he focused and notice that this one thankfully did not have John. He studied the painting and realized he would rather go back to the first two. The painting depicted what was obviously a Sovarian lab, men and women in lab coats held nametags written in the winding Sovarian script. The technology though not old was dated with no evidence of digital screens or monitors anywhere. Entering into the lab was a line of children, terrified and chained to each other as they were placed into distant cells. The painting depicted the scientists’ giving injections of a glowing blue substance to the children as they walked by. The other end of the lab showed a smaller line of children slowly stumbling off into the distance. A murky pile of corpses the the side of the line, a pair of silhouettes falling to add to the number of the dead.
“This was done more recently. It’s why I started looking into De Vito.”
John shook his head, trying to focus beyond the flood of information Clayton was throwing at him, “Why are you showing me this? Why show me the others now if all you needed was help finding the missing kids?”
He gestured back at the first few paintings. Clayton moved on and removed the covers from the last two paintings.
The fifth painting unveiled a breathtaking underwater vista, an exquisite depiction of a submerged ruin. The artist skillfully captured the delicate interplay of vibrant blues and greens, immersing the viewer in a realm of tranquility and mystery. Ancient structures adorned with intricate carvings sprawled beneath the waves, now transformed into thriving coral gardens teeming with vibrant marine life. Scar-light filtered through the water, casting a gentle glow on the scene, unveiling the hidden beauty of this forgotten world. Amidst the submerged ruins, a black tower stood upright on the ocean floor, its enigmatic presence evoking a sense of foreboding, contrasting with the serenity of the surroundings. Whispers of darkness seemed to emanate from its depths, tempting the viewer to delve deeper into its secrets.
The final canvas split into two distinct halves, unveiling dual realities of Quorluna. On the left side, the familiar world of the metropolis unfolded, with towering skyscrapers and bustling streets. Neon lights and streetlamps cast a warm glow, while people went about their daily lives, unaware of the hidden forces at play. In this realm, John lurked in the shadows, dressed in military gear, carrying weapons close, his expression filled with determination and secrecy. On the right side, a world of magic took form, where towering buildings were adorned with shimmering enchantments. Arcane symbols danced in the air, and individuals with magical abilities roamed the streets, their auras glowing with the power they possessed. In this fantastic world, John remained hidden, his eyes searching for something elusive, as if his destiny lay just beyond his grasp. The painting juxtaposed the mundane and the extraordinary, highlighting the contrasting realms that the drawing of John traversed. He could almost feel the pulsating energy of the magical realm, it almost felt like wisps of magic mist were rising from its depths.
“Javier said all of these paintings belong to the same set” said Clayton.
John looked down the table, his mind reeling. When Javier painted he could see the future. But sometimes he could see which of the pieces were connected. Which pieces belonged together.
“When were these done?” asked John.
“2 weeks ago. Javier showed these to me and Liz first, same as the others. Youll be happy to know that the Nexus has only see the first of these paintings. As far as they’re aware you’re just a walking loose cannon. Gotta keep an eye on that magic popping off but nothing else they gotta worry themselves over.”
Clayton eyed the second painting. The depiction of John as the destructive demon, “I have a feeling he did some others but never showed us because he seems to think that these were worth hiding from the Nexus of Balance. I might do a bit of looking in back.”
The last part he said looking directly at Crystal.
“Why am I here?” asked Crystal, finishing her review of the final paintings as well.
Clayton revealed a concealed canvas, placing it between John and Crystal on the table. The final piece. This particular painting portrayed both of them standing at the precipice of a towering cliff, their gazes fixed upon a vast jungle canyon below. The canyon exuded an ominous aura, akin to a dormant beast poised to consume any unfortunate souls that dared to venture into its gaping abyss. Around the edges of this canvas were runes written in a different language, the Guardian language.
“Your Aunt and your Father” said Clayton looking at both John and then Crystal in turn, “had you both trained with the Guardians over the summer for a few years. Do you remember enough?”
It had been years since his time with the Guardians. John had indeed spent a few summers with them, at his aunt and uncles pleading. He’d found it to be surprising enjoyable, if slow and boring for the most part. The guardians were heavily religious and had their own stories for the origin of the world. They valued nature and the connection magic had with the world. Over the years scientists had gone out of their way attempting to disprove most of their historical religious belief only to be left confused and frustrated, unable to explain away the extraordinary. The guardians also had the highest concentration of magic users in the world. The passing of magic seemed to be genetic, having larger concentrations near the sites of past Guardian colonies and becoming less common among the general populous further out. As far as he knew the people of Sovaria had little to no native magic users, as secluded as they were to the east on their island country. Its closed off borders led to little mingling between its people and other countries.
The Lorenthian religious texts contained a codex from which their alphabet and language was derived. A language that itself was connected to the magic of the world. It had been found that by using the blood of magic users you could perform magic, even if the user themselves had no magic running through their veins. You just needed the right runes to say what you wanted the magic to do. Where John could only shoot flames from his body like a walking bomb, a truly skilled magic user could charge up any physical object with his power. The runes of magic was automatically appear along the objects surface, stating the creators will and waiting to be used. John could only remember bits and pieces of what he had been taught. He mentally berated himself for letting it slip from his memory. He caught some words but thankfully Crystal came to the rescue.
“It’s a spell for absorbing magic” said Crystal awestruck,”But its on a level, multiple times stronger than a typical Shikai. That would easily be a Shoten if you could find enough magic to power it.”
John shuddered at that. Blood magic was costly. A Shoten was multiples of magnitudes stronger in terms of magical strength than a Shikai. If this was the instructions to create a shoten and someone used blood magic to work it. That was easily hundreds of magic users, bled out dry to create a monstrous tool.
“Your father painted this before I contacted you for this job with the kids. He thinks you and John and going to be needed for something soon and I figured me and ‘hot shot’ over here could use the help. You just happened to be back in the neighborhood after your trip to Trea.”
The constantly changing nicknames was starting to get on John’s nerves.
“And my aunt never thought to tell me about this?” asked John.
“You weren’t exactly taking her calls boy,” shot back Clayton, “She’s done her best to protect you, but she hasn’t done it alone. Its been a group effort and she knew this might be easier hearing this without family around for you.”
It was true. John didn’t want to think about the looks of horror and pity that would jump into his cousins’ eyes. He was sure they’d immediately jump to his defense that he would never do something as terrible as what they saw with their own eyes. He was glad for the time to process. Crystal and Clayton were like family but there was something harder between the three of them. They could lean on it without judgment. John had seen Crystal’s eyes darting back to the first painting. The shame he had tried to lie and cover up since he first moved into the city. She said nothing though, for which he was grateful and didn’t look towards him as if expecting him to break to pieces over the rest.
“So, any idea what any of it means”
“Aside from you having a short fuse, not a clue. Javier thinks you both are going to Soventh eventually. That canyon matches the description of the Shadow mire Chasms so that’s a start at least. As to why you’d end up there and what you’re doing, he doesn’t know. Also seeing as we all know he doesn’t know a lick of Guardian he doesn't know what that spell is about either.”
Crystal shook her head, “Just like him. Give us a bunch of problems and then sit back and watch what happens.”
Clayton shrugged, “ At least he told us. Gives us time to think about what it means and what we can do.”
Crystal nudged John, “Start working on that temper. I hear meditation works wonders.”
John grumbled in annoyance. He was getting himself back under control. Work it out, one step before the other he thought. He disregarded the painting of him and Crystal, moving back to the one of the Sovarian lab and the children. He leaned in close and saw that the kids, though unclean and covered in rags had the tanned skin of Guardian ancestry. A couple wore jeans and t-shirts common in Qorluna as well. These were the kidnapped victims for sure.
“So you found out where the kids end up then” said John
Crystal and Clayton looked at each other then moved back over to where john stood.
“We think so” Clayton sighed, “The kids are getting shipped in 2 days, but I haven’t been able to find out where they are being stored. Since we know where they are going to be taken before they can get sent to Sovaria well have a chance.”
“The authorities?” asked Crystal
“The bastards wont search without proper warrants and I wasn’t able to get anything they would believe. Not without reveling myself.”
The Guardians, the Nexus, nor Filious Vires would ever allow that to happen. Even to save children, they protected the secret of magic from the rest of the world above all else. In th past there had been witch hunts and wars fought against what people thought was different. The human ability to destroy anything deemed “unnatural” or that they could not have for themselves was astounding. Magic had been hunted and almost wiped into the pages of distant history. Filious Vires rounding up the remnants of the magical community in an attempt to protect its future in this world and those immortals that remained.
John just rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, “We don’t need anyone else. They won’t want to make a scene so there likely won’t be many guards around. A small crew at most.”
“Well I’m glad you think it will be easy. Not like you’ve ever had things go wrong, am I right?” said Crystal sarcastically.
John rolled his eyes and went back to looking at the painting when he heard a sharp crack from the window behind John. He could just make out the impression of a small sphere stuck to it, a red light beeping faster and faster. Before John could react and without warning it exploded, throwing Clayton and the tables forward into John and Crystal. There was a loud ringing in John’s ears and blood covered one of his eyes. He stumbled to his feet trying to figure out what was going on. Clayton and Crystal were slumped to his right against the wall.
The cool air and city noises spilled in from the outside. A figure dressed in black was stepping through the window. He could tell it was a woman by her figure and the way she held herself, but a mask covered her face from view. She quickly ran forward and tore down the painting of John and Max standing on the cliff. Clayton stumbled over, still stunned from the concussion grenade and grabbed onto one end of the painting as she tore it off the canvas frame. With a quick kick to the stomach and then the head the thief knocked Clayton out. With quick movement she rolled it up and put it into a tube she carried strapped to her back.
The thief ran to the window attempting to dive back out with her prize and dive towards escape. With a growl of rage at the destruction and intrusion this stranger had caused, John tried to throw his magic at her. He raised his hand ,fingers splayed out and…. Nothing happened.
“C’mon!” John shouted.
He concentrated mentally, trying to burn this woman to ash. Just as he was about to give up, his hand burst into white hot flames, surprising even john. He pushed it out and away from him but again his magic refused to respond. The flames shot as a ball from his hand but landed without effect between him and the thief. When the ball hit the floor the flames shot out in all directions, making the group duck for cover.
Crystal dove into action, recovered from the blast. The thief turned a gun towards her but Crystal moved with inhuman speed, jumping from the wall to the ceiling and then landing next to John as she dodged bullets. Two knives were in her hands though where she had hidden them among her dress John couldn’t fathom.
“you’ve grown little girl. You look just like her now that you’re all grown.” said the thief from behind her mask.
Crystal’s eyes widened in recognition, and she gave a feral yell as she jumped forward at the woman.
“Crystal. Wait!” John yelled but she ignored him.
He dove for cover as Crystal dodged another shot from the thief. He raised his head quickly and saw both women, struggling on the ground for leverage and control. One knife was stabbed into the the thiefs arm while the other was pinned in the floor The thief elbowed the knife on the floor breaking the blade. Crystal yanked out the other knife from the thief’s flesh and with a feral yell stabbed at the masked face. The thief twisted on the ground and dodged the thrust. Finally she caught Crystal’s arms and locked them under her. They both lifted up into the air as if pulled on invisible strings. John didn’t notice the thief throw them or move in any way, it had to be magic. The thief threw her head twisting her body around. She pulled her legs under her as they flipped in midair and kicked crystal in the stomach. John was scrambling to move as he realized they were directly in front of the broken window. He watched in horror as Crystal was flung out of the room and into the night sky. The back of her head hit the bottom of the broken and scorched window frame as she tumbled.
The thief hovered in midair and after a quick glance at Clayton and John shot out the window and into the night sky. John roared in anger and chased after her, this times the flames easily flying from his outstretched hand but finding nothing to burn. Tendrils of red, yellow and orange writhed in frustration as the thief flew out of reach and up into the sky. John rushed the window and pounded on the frame in frustration. He thought of throwing a ball of flame after the thief but he knew it would just draw unwanted attention and possibly hurt any bystanders on the streets below. Hell it might not even work! He kept his eyes up towards the sky, scared of what he’d see if he looked to the street below.
“JOHN! Help me damn it!”
John threw his head further out the window and looked down. Crystal hung from a flag pole bolted to the wall of the building. He couldn’t believe his eyes, this was something out of a bad movie.
“Stop staring and help me!”
John ran to Clayton and after quickly verifying the man was alive took his tie off and ran back to the window. He wrapped one end of the tie around his hand and extended it down to Crystal. With a grunt of effort she swung on the flagpole flipping herself onto the top of the flag pole then jumping up into the air to grab the tie. John felt a jolt of fear as she rose in the air for a second, mentally picturing her missing the tie and falling. Crystal confidently grabbed the tie and began pulling herself up as her feet hit the wall in front of her. John braced himself on the edge of the window to keep from falling out himself and helped pulled her up.
Clayton stumbled to his feet holding his head, “What did she take?”
Crystal rushed to the fallen table and rummaged through the fallen canvases quickly.
“She took the one with the spell”. Said Crystal, going back through the canvases to confirm.
“You knew her?”
Crystal just kept rummaging angrily through the pieces on the floor.
John waited for more but Crystal offered no more information, choosing to remain silent as she helped Clayton off the floor. John waited, she’d talk when she was ready. The thief had mentioned Crystal’s deceased mother. This was personal.
At that moment the door to the room opened up quickly and Max stuck her head through with a stupid grin on her face.
“We heard a bang?” Taking in the wreckage she just cocked her head and raised an eyebrow at her angry cousin.