Michael’s return to consciousness was gradual. The first thing he felt was the terrible headache pounding away at his head. It felt like, several banshees shrieking inside his head at the same time. His body if possible, felt even worse. His muscles felt like they were on fire. Everything else felt incredibly sore. He lay still for a long time with his eyes closed. Eventually he got up. There were a lot of questions that needed answering, including a very important one. Who had put him in his bedroom and changed him out of his clothes besides. His first attempt at getting up, made his head spin. The roof above his head belonged in his room while his hands were still unbound. So whoever had found and helped him wasn’t the cops. Unfortunately without further information, that was the extent of his deduction.
“At ease Mr Craven, you are in safe hands now.” Said a voice from his left. The voice despite being male, had a musical lilt to it. Unfortunately it made him want to get up even faster, against the owner’s intention. However Michael’s body was in no condition to hurry even now. So reluctantly, he took his time sitting up. He was still alive, and in his bedroom recovering. At the very least, the people helping him shouldn’t be enemies, seeing that he was both alive and free. He sat up slowly, so as not to make his head spin and then turned sideways carefully to not agitate his sore muscles further.
“That’s it Mr Craven, slow and easy. You have pushed your body and magic beyond their current limits.”
Michael finally turned his head to observe the owner of the voice. The most noticeable feature (in Michael’s opinion) were the ears. The ears were sharply pointed tips and tapered away backwards from the head. Apart from that, the man’s other features were a perfect match to every elven stereotype from books and movies. Tall, slender, graceful and slightly androgynous with golden white hair. The only point of incongruity were the circular frameless spectacles, which sat low on the stranger’s nose. Bright green eyes peered out from behind it and held a great deal of curiosity towards him. Perhaps more importantly, was the feeling of timelessness and wisdom which the eyes gave off. They were eyes which had seen a lot. His clothes on the other hand was another matter entirely. The only words that could be used to describe them was flamboyant and elegant. He was wearing a purple tailcoat and suit, along with a top hat of the same colour. The clothes along with the spectacles gave the elf a unique look, which seemed to somehow suit him.
Michael stared at the man for a full minute, completely speechless. The man’s eyes suddenly narrowed as he spoke. His manner of speaking was serious, unlike his looks. “You can see past my glamour, I take it?”
“What do you mean by glamour?” asked Michael confused.
The man seemed to nod at his confusion as he spoke seemingly ignoring Michael’s question. “Hmm... it’s not completely surprising, after all it is hard to fool the eyes that can see death.”
The man sighed out in exasperation as he sat down on a chair by the bed.
“My name is Elaides, a healer of the People. Though ignorant beings often refer to us as Elves.”
“I’m Michael, Michael Craven.”
“I know who you are Mr Craven, but your name is not what interests me currently. What I would like to know is how you ended up in your current state?”
Michael had to suddenly swallow back the bile that rose up from his throat. He could suddenly remember the fight with startling clarity. The sensation of cutting through flesh, the scent of fresh blood as it spilled on the floor. But more importantly was the fear. He distinctly remembered the fear in the eyes of the men he had killed, the realisation that they were about to die. The thing which affected him the most was their souls. He remembered with great clarity the emotions from the souls of his attackers as they passed on. There was some fear towards the unknown, but mostly it was hatred for him and satisfaction.
“Are you all right Mr Craven?”
As Michael tried to nod his head yes, he suddenly realised that his hands were shaking. It was not much, but enough to be noticeable. Elaides noticed it but he kept his mouth shut. The people abhorred murder and were usually peaceful. But that didn’t make them helpless sheep to be slaughtered at leisure. The anger of his people was terrible to behold. Being immortal made them more appreciative of life and death. He could easily understand the ordeal, his young patient was going through. After all, he had gone through the same, a long time ago when he had been both naïve and foolish.
Elaides took a deep breath and cleared his throat to gain Michael’s attention. It took a few seconds for him to gather his thoughts. Michael took the opportunity to observe the man. However he was unable to infer anything from the healer’s face.
“I can understand what you are going through young one. Unfortunately there is little time for you to mourn the loss of your innocence. Your enemy won’t wait for you to gather yourself and come to terms with what you have done. They are powerful and have resources which you can barely fathom. They will no doubt send more people after you, which is why it is imperative that you tell me what you did to fight off your would-be killers.”
Michael took a deep breath, as he gathered himself and forcibly stopped himself from shaking. Elaides’s words had put things in perspective. He would have time to come to terms with what he had done. But not now. Right now survival was more important, especially if Elaides was right. He took a few seconds to recall the events that had befallen him before he had lost consciousness. The elf only asked a few questions, but mostly he listened. Elaides nodded to himself at the end of his patient’s narration.
“That explains a lot. I’m certain you are curious as to what you did.” Michael nodded in agreement. He had had a lot of questions since last night, but no answers.
“Very well then, let us start with your headache. The headache is merely a symptom of magic exhaustion. It is common among magicians who uses magic for the first time. It is nothing to worry about as long as you don’t overdo it.” Elaides made sure that he had Michael’s full attention before continuing. “What you did to your body was much more dangerous. Your magic was used to temporarily boost your muscles and senses, to output more power than normal. Unfortunately your body is currently, paying the price for that temporary boost. When I examined, you for the first time there were micro-fractures on your bones throughout your body and not to mention the tears on your muscles.” Elaides took a moment to breath before continuing.
“Fortunately, the fight didn’t go on for long, which is the only reason your injuries aren’t worse than they were. On the other hand, once your body heals up completely you will be much stronger than you were both physically and magically.”
Michael nodded thoughtfully, at Elaides’s explanation. “How long will it take for me to heal? Also how long was I unconscious for anyway?”
“You should be completely recovered by sunrise tomorrow. You were unconscious for about eight hours, give or take, your own magic played a big part in your recovery or you would have been unconscious for longer.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Also how come the cops aren’t here?”
“Well, your closest neighbour is at least half an hour away by car. Besides your enemy is powerful and not just physically or magically.” Replier Elaides
“Does that mean you know who they are? And why are you helping me?” asked Michael
Elaides suddenly smirked mysteriously as he pushed his spectacles upwards. “Actually I’m afraid our time is at an end. Besides there is someone waiting downstairs who is much more suited to answering those questions. I suggest getting yourself something to eat.”
And with that Elaides abruptly, got up and left. He moved with a grace that Michael was certain he would never achieve, no matter how long he practiced martial arts for. Michael got up slowly, as his stomach started to growl for food. He didn’t have time to lie around. There was an unknown guest downstairs, and besides he needed food and a hot shower.
……………………….
His strength returned gradually. By the time he had made his way downstairs, the headache was gone. The aches in his muscles were still there but was low enough to be ignored. Michael’s house was actually a mansion. His parents were businessmen, and owned their own company. Michael suddenly stopped at the thought of his parent’s company. He had actually no idea what the company did. His parents never talked about their business dealings at home, and he wasn’t curious enough to ask. After the events of last night, and their reactions he was suddenly curious. Unfortunately his parents weren’t home, and right now he had other things to worry about.
The Craven mansion had a total of three floors. The second floor had the master bedroom, a library, and his parent’s personal offices. The first floor had his and Julie’s bedrooms, a home theatre and three more guestrooms. The entire ground floor consisted of the dining room, kitchen and drawing room. When Michael alighted from the stairs, he sincerely regretted not bringing his katana downstairs. But then he relaxed thinking ‘fuck it…’ He had guests, not a single one as had been assumed at first. One of them was his attacker from last night. He had only gotten glimpses of her, during their fight earlier. But here and now, as he saw her under the light of the dining room his breath was taken away involuntarily. She was beautiful. Her hair was a bright red, but looked completely natural. Her jeans and tank-top ensemble suited her perfectly (in Michael’s opinion). Her red eyes and almost cat-like angular features added to the perfection that was her. For some reason, he felt a connection with her that hadn’t been there on their first meeting. He was pretty sure she felt the bond as well, but unlike him she looked distinctly unhappy. That took all the wind out of his sails.
He was finally able to take his attention, away from her and at her companions. They were probably bodyguards and muscle. The muscle looked like red skinned versions of generic storybook genies with legs. Bald with pointed goatees, and huge. They were at least eight feet tall and had the muscles to match. Dresses in cargos and t-shirts, under long overcoats which fell down to their knees, and armed with a single oversize scimitar. The beings were highly intimidating and Michael sincerely prayed that they were on his side.
Fortunately for Michael, they were and their next action proved it without any doubt. The girl went down on her right knee. The muscle’s emulated her and Michael relaxed inwardly. She was dusky, with an alabaster smooth complexion.
“I’m at your service, my master.” She said
For a full minute Michael was once again rendered speechless at the sound of her voice. (In his opinion) The sound of her voice was more musical then any instrument or song he had heard in his short lifetime. He had to swallow twice, before his mouth was wet enough to speak.
“I have literally no idea what’s going on, but why don’t you guys stand up and we can talk.”
There was an awkward pause as they stood back up. It was only then that he noticed her cheek. At the spot where he had struck her last night was a miniature version of his raven shaped birthmark. She noticed his gaze but didn’t give any other reaction except for clenching her right palm into a fist. Her scimitar was nowhere to be seen.
She spoke in a colourless tone, devoid of any feelings “May we talk alone master? We have a lot to talk about and very little in the way of time.”
Michael nodded and walked to the dining room. He was hungry enough to eat a bear and despite the imminent danger to his life, food couldn’t wait. He was surprised to find a plate of sandwiches in the microwave and turned to look at the girl following silently behind him.
“I hope you don’t mind master, but we were all hungry. So I made some food for everyone.” She said with a slight red tint on her cheeks.
“Sure, it’s cool. I’m just glad that you made some for me too.” Michael replied while averting his face from hers.
The bodyguards split up. Two of them stayed behind in the dining room while the remaining six left. She answered the unasked question in Michael’s eyes. “They are going to patrol the perimeter.”
There was a pregnant pause as Michael retrieved the sandwiches. He sat down on a chair by the dining table and the girl followed suit. There was another awkward pause as Michael started to eat. By unspoken consent both kept silent, as Michael finished his meal. He was clearly ravenous and finished the entire plate within minutes. Finally, he pushed the plate away and shivered slightly, as a cold wind blew in through the broken glass doors. It reminded him of the events that took place earlier in the morning and he had to supress a slight bout of nausea. He looked up at her and finally opened his mouth to speak.
“Let’s start with introductions and then we can move on to this master thing and then to the people who want me dead.” Michael decided his tone was remarkably calm for someone who had had two fights to the death within a short span of time.
“My name is Eriyenes, youngest child of The Caliph of the North. I’m a High Djinn, while the others with me are warrior Djinns. It is their duty and responsibility to serve us High Djinns.” She paused for a moment and then started to speak again. “The reason I call you master is because you are. I’m your slave to do with as you please.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Michael perplexed.
“Does master remember the visit from my father’s servant, and the gift that he gave you?” Eriyenes asked, her tone completely unemotional.
It didn’t take long for him to put two and two together. “The black stone?” He said quietly. Eriyenes nodded her head in confirmation.
There was silence for a while. Neither of them knew what to say. Michael opened his mouth to say something a few times, but stopped. After all there was nothing left to say. He was pretty certain that an apology would only make things worse.
After a few minutes of awkward pause, Eriyenes started to speak again. By mutual consent neither spoke on the topic of her slavery. “The men that attacked you were Templars. They are an organisation that has existed since time immemorial. They believe themselves to be the guardians and protectors of the non-magical population that exists in Caelantor.”
Michael stood up and paced restlessly, around the kitchen. It was some time before he spoke up once more. “I already know that magic is real and so are the beings described in myth like elves and Djinns. But that doesn’t explain why I was attacked. It’s not like I’m going around on a rampage killing people left and right.”
Unfortunately Eriyenes didn’t know either as she shook her head in frustration. “I don’t know either master. Besides what they did was incredibly dangerous. It goes against the treaty they have with the Council of Magic.”
“What treaty? And what do you mean by council of magic?” asked Michael in frustration.
“The Council of Magic is the government that represents and rules over ‘The Others’ all over the world. The term itself is used to represent mages and beings of magic.” Replied Eriyenes. “The treaty is one that has existed for a long time, between the Templars and the Council. I don’t know the exact details, but I do know that they are not allowed to hunt ‘Others’ like us without cause.”
“By the way, were you the one who called Elaides?” asked Michael.
“No master, he was already here when I arrived.”
Michael couldn’t help but sigh in frustration. There were already so many questions, and the few answers that he had gotten gave rise to more questions in turn. He sat down once more as his body was still sore.
“I take it that the general population is not aware of the existence of magic.” It was a statement rather than a question.
“Mostly yes, however some people in high positions in the government and law enforcement are aware.”
“How do we keep ourselves hidden?”
“Caelantor is a vast world. There are enclaves and hidden cities throughout the world. After all magic is a wondrous thing.”
Michael let out a slow breath. There were a lot of questions left, but right now only one was important. “What am I?”
Eriyenes made sure to look into his eyes as she spoke rather carefully.
“Your kind has many names, but only one which most people know and understand. You Master are a Necromancer, one of the few that currently exists or are known.”
………………………….