A week came and went, and I’ve learned more about the title of Keeper. Taking notes, believe it or not, I sat in on many of Marxus’ meeting, observing how he handled issues that were presented to him. The meetings were hectic and long, but resolved after hours of negotiations. Marxus allowed my input on how I would handle things, agreeing to only some of them, which was fine, he put me on the spot before my mind could properly see the situation. There were moments, where I felt that no matter what I said, none of it pleased him. After the final meeting, that was it for the day, and just when I was ready to leave, Marxus informed me that it was time.

“Time for what?” I wondered, closing my notebook with all of my observations and thoughts from the meetings.

“Follow me.” Marxus stood from the desk, approaching the bookshelf. Once it opened, he stepped into the passageway.

“Where are we going this time?” I asked, “Really?”

“You will see.” Marxus answered, leading her through the passageway toward the rear door, “What I am about to show you, is the most important and precious secret on the Isle. He’s very special, so whatever you do, don’t be afraid of his size.”

“I’m sorry, his what now?!” my voice cracked, but he didn’t reply and this was something I had learned about Marxus, his silence allowed me to discover things for myself without the assistance of his knowledge, “At least you shook your head.”

Marxus couldn’t help but grin. Stopping in front of the door that was a solid chunk of iron, it had a dull, rough surface, but not rusted. Displaying no handles or locks, how would it have opened? Reaching his right hand to the collar of his crisp, white dress shirt, he removed a beautiful, antique silver cross, with more of a Gothic design, than religious. It must’ve been three inches in diameter, hanging off its sturdy silver chain. Lowering the pendant with etched carvings around the shape and circular circumference, with Amethyst stones of various shades embedded in their settings on each point, there was a polished Garnet set in the center, glistening off the torches that lined the wall, flickering around them. As he carefully removed the chain around his neck, he looked at her.

“It’s beautiful, but what are you going to do with it?” I asked, “And honestly, more iron?” I gestured at the door.

“I know Little One, I know but remember you’re in the hall of secrets.” Marxus answered vaguely, studying her feminine but nervous mannerisms, “Are you all right? You look pale.”

“Iron.” I complained, “So is this it, the door? Cause this little moment here…” I gestured between him and myself, “is a bit creepy.”

“I have been called many things in my lifetime, but creepy is not one of them.” Marxus exaggerated.

“First time for everything.” I glanced at him.

“Hmm.” Marxus turned, laying his hands on the door.

Waiting for something to happen, I had the perfect sarcastic comment planned, but appearing on the surface was an image of a dragon with runic symbols encircling it, and a small hole molded to fit the pendant, in the center. Stepping back slowly, watching as Marxus placed the key in the hole, he placed his fingers along the top and bottom of the pendant then spoke a word in his Spanish tongue LA CLAVE then turning the key clockwise to the right with such ease, a loud mechanical echo pierced the silence of the passageway. Covering my ears with my hands, the door opened inward, sliding to the right and as it opened, the bookshelf behind us, closed with perfect timing.

“Literally when one door closes, another one opens.” I rasped, then glanced back at the iron door that led downward to an unknown place underground, revealing one mystery, after another. Feeling a breeze hitting my face that had come from underground, I held up my hands, “Nope, I don’t think so, I didn’t sign for hidden passageways and the whole FOLLOW ME UNDERGROUND thing, sorry.” I backed away.

“Come now, Yzavela…” Marxus stepped forward, placing his right hand on her shivering shoulder, while his left placed the chain around his neck, “it’s all right.” he lowered his hand, as he turned, reaching for one of the torches from its sconce.

“You keep saying that, like I’m supposed to believe it.”

Entering through the door, Marxus stood at the top of what looked like stone steps, waiting for her to follow him. Slowly turning to her, he beckoned her forward, saying nothing.

“Sh*t.” I cursed. Following after him, blackness greeted our eyes at first, but the light from the torch revealed the set of a spiraling staircase, descending through a long catacomb-like tunnel. Holding onto the wall for supported as I took every step carefully, I shook off the dizziness, feeling the iron ore in the rock. Wincing, I could feel it burning my hands but I kept it to myself. Walking down, continuing to stay as close to Marxus as I could, I wondered how this must have appeared to the outside, but realized this was a manor, but nevermind the details of that, we’re underground beneath the island. It didn’t, and shouldn’t have, surprised me, “Marxus, where are we going?” I questioned, examining the dark and sleek, stone steps ahead.

“Don’t be afraid, Yzavela.” Marxus rasped in a softly, “Calm yourself before meeting my friend, he has the unfortunate habit of feeding on fear.”

Stopping on the steps, I argued.

“You’re f*cking with me, right?!” my voice echoed loudly off the slate walls.

“You will be safe.” Marxus grinned, then watched as flames of the torch grew brighter and it wasn’t his doing, “And if I were you, I wouldn’t do that, little fire-Demon.” he looked at her.

“Sorry, but tell me something, Captain Nemo…” I took a step, “are we ten thousand leagues under the sea, or are you taking me to Atlantis, where your friend is Aquaman because that uh, wouldn’t be so bad if he looked that like one from that movie.” I bit my lip, imagining the actor that portrayed the aquatic character, and IF YOU KNOW WHAT ACTOR, oh yeah!

“Always the spirited one.” Marxus turned away, not replying her sarcastic inquiry, “Come along, Yzavela. Once the light fades, you don’t want to get lost. You’ll never find your way out.” he continued his descent.

“F*ck me...” I groaned as my heeled boots echoed downward. Keeping up with his pace that continued for five minutes, the walls grew rougher as if freshly cut and gouged. Stepping off the last step, I took a deep breath with my eyes closed but as I opened them, I was speechless. Standing in a cavern that was indescribable, Ravenstone Manor itself could easily fit within in, and still have room for maybe another.

Marxus laid the torch on a rock near the stairs, keeping the flame from extinguishing, for he needed it no longer. Besides, there were lit fire pits in various places around the cavern, glowing brightly, illuminating the entire space in a soft Amber hue that bounced off the black sheen of the slate rock.

Taking steps forward, I glanced around, noticing an opening off to the right leading outside. Hearing the waves crashing against the rocks, this must have been the rear part of the Isle. Up ahead, however, was a large mound appearing a shade of blue in color, and it wasn’t just my eyes playing tricks either, it was blue!

Marxus took steps forward, speaking softly.

“Axeon, my friend. I have brought someone for you to meet.”

Hearing his voice, the mound moved in place.

Standing alongside Marxus, I watched as only a beast from myth and legend, stretched itself out. Gasping in shock, I was looking at a dragon, an actual fire-breathing dragon! Holding up its massive head, it turned revealing an extremely large, tapered snout. Stepping closer to both Marxus and I, the loud vibrations from its movements echoed through the cavern. It stood before us, with its head practically touching all of the stalagmites and stalactites stringing along the ceiling above in rows like ornaments. This dragon must have been close to this size of an adult T-Rex from the JP movies, but elegant and classic, with beautiful horns that looked like a crown. Its long tapered tail slithered along the rock ground, and its feet had nicely curved talons that were undoubtedly sharp. A pair of massive wings ran along the length of its body, with a claw-like hook on the tip and thick bat-like membranes. It had an elegant face, head, and snout, with spikes running down the back of its neck, back and tail, with some along its jawline. The scales were a deep, royal Sapphire blue, and the color alone, contrasted its beautiful gold set-froward eyes. He, or she, was absolutely breathtaking!

“Oh my god!” I stared at this magnificent creature. Turning to Marxus I asked, “H-how is this possible?”

“Mortals believe nothing exists, and that what did exist, is no longer among the living. Very much like the dinosaurs.” he answered, “I’m sure in deep caverns around the world, there are species that roam freely because mortals have not yet, and are too behind in technology, to explore. Now, I am sure you are aware, that just because we cannot see it, does not mean they do not exist.” Marxus’ eyes looked up at the dragon, “Beasts like him have learned to hide, camouflaging or themselves to blend in with the surrounding environment. Some choose to live underground, in the seas, even in the fiery depths of the core, each are classified to their element.” he finished then turned, continuing telepathically, staring into the dragon’s golden eyes, “Axeon, this is Yzavela. The half-breed that you envisioned.” he gestured at her.

“Indeed, it is.” Axeon answered telepathically, “I am sensing a positive energy from her, and she has the perfect skill set to take on the Keeper position. However, I sense something that is different about this one.” he nodded at her.

Despite his size, he walked rather gracefully.

I didn’t know what to do, but return the nod.

“It’s all right, Little One. He won’t harm you. Come.” Marxus turned to her, gently placing his arm around her shoulders. He gestured her to walk forward, but felt her freeze in place.

Lowering his head as he approached, Axeon examined her. She was smaller than he realized, looking like a young child, or teen, from his point-of-view, compared to that of Marxus’ stature.

I think anyone in their right mind, would be frightened if a beast so menacing, stood over them. And I was no different. I took steps backwards, tripping over a small rock, landing hard on the ground, probably fracturing my tailbone. Again. Scraping my hands that tried bracing my fall, I let out a long string curses in sheer frustration and as I finished the last few words, one of the fire pits nearby flared high with its flames growing brighter and more violent.

Both Marxus and Axeon focused their attentions toward the flames, then turned to look down at her. Axeon snorted as he came closer, but Marxus reassured him that he shouldn’t be alarmed. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“If that was not you, and it was not I, could it have been her?” the dragon’s voice echoed in the Immortals’ mind, “I might have foreseen her yes, but what creature are you bringing into our midst?”

“Axeon, my friend. She’s not a creature, I will explain later.” Marxus answered, glancing back at her, “Now back away, you are frightening her, and when she is pushed into a corner, well that happens and then some.” he looked at the tall, great dragon, pointing toward the fire pit that had erupted moments ago.

Axeon groaned deeply, then bowed before taking steps back.

Marxus reached out his hands, flicking his fingers at her.

I barely had the chance to grab hold of his wrists, before he pulled me to my feet. Holding out my hands while Marxus briefly examined them, I heard a powerful and deep, voice speak over the sound of my own thoughts.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, half-breed.”

“Marxus, come on, that’s not funny.” I looked at him.

“That wasn’t me.” he stepped aside.

“Yeah, right. If it wasn’t you, than who was it?” I snapped.

Marxus raised his left hand, gesturing at the dragon.

Looking at him, then up at the dragon, I stared into his eyes, and the fear I had felt, just faded away as I approached him. I held out my hands, touching his snout with bumpy scales that were surprisingly soft.

“That was you?” I mumbled verbally.

“Yes. My name is Axeon, and you, are Yzavela.” he answered.

“Wow. I can’t believe this.” I smiled, “You’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Axeon closed his eyes, enjoying her gentleness.

“How are you speaking to me telepathically, don’t we have to be bonded or…something like that?” I wondered curiously.

“You have entered my cavern, and you are in my presence. I would say that is enough bondage, but now that you placed your hands upon my scales, we are bonded more so now than we were before, which was nothing.” his golden eyes blinked, “And of course, there is the orb stone that has also bonded us together.”

“Bondage, right.” I smiled, for that sounded too weird coming from a dragon. Suddenly, I began feeling a strange tingling in my hands, and pulling them away, whatever the magic in this place was, it healed my palms of all the scrapes and cuts from the fall. Rubbing my hands together, I turned to Marxus, and wanted to know what Axeon’s name meant.

“According to him…” he stepped forward, “it means Blue One, and I know that might seem like a cliche but it is fact.”

“It fits.” I admired, “And uh, how did you come across him? I don’t think you went to an exotic breeder and said HEY, DO YOU HAVE ANY DRAGONS, cause I’d want the name of that guy.” I teased.

Marxus chuckled.

“No, it was not like that. I discovered him many-many years ago in my youth after my family passed, during one of the rare, most exquisite meteor showers I have ever seen. I was on one of those missions, gathering artifacts for the Order, and that’s when one of the meteors landed near my camp that very same evening. I was curious back then, always wanting to put my nose where it didn’t belong, so I investigated the ditch it had created.” Marxus slowly paced, “And through the smoke, I watched as the rock itself, turned into a legendary creature I had only read of in books.” he turned to Axeon, and admired his beauty, “I was terrified at first, what man would not be, but losing my footing on the ledge of the crater, I fell.”

“Fell?”

“Yes.” Marxus nodded, “And before, I guess…” he frowned, “I could reach the bottom of the crater, I felt something pushing me out. Opening my eyes, there he was, or there I was, on his snout.” he grinned, having the fond memory, “And since that day, we have been bonded, and he’s proven himself to be the most trusted companion and loyal friend. He has been there for me every step of the way in my journey, throughout the centuries, giving advice and helping with the construction of the wall surrounding the manor.”

“The wall surrounding the manor?” I wondered, “How?”

“That’s another story, for another time.” Marxus smirked, “Axeon has always been with me, even through a war and together we succeeded over the enemy.”

“Not without many losses.” Axeon added.

“That is true, unfortunately.” Marxus nodded.

“War?” I didn’t know what to say, trying to wrap my head around all of this because I couldn’t believe it, even though the proof was standing in front of me with his all mythical beauty and glory.

After spending an hour with the dragon, Marxus made the suggestion to return to the study because he was sure his presence was needed somewhere…for something. Heading toward the steps, I kept glancing back, watching as Axeon left the cavern for his daily meal of fresh mountain sheep on the mainland. Smiling once more in amazement, the dragon’s wings twitched, ready for his afternoon flight before pushing himself off the ledge, disappearing upward into the air as his wings spread open, supporting his weight.

“I can’t believe this.” I whispered.

“Come now, Little One.” Marxus urged her.

“But isn’t he going to be seen?” I worried.

“All dragons possess the ability to cloak themselves, or that’s what he’s told me, so I would say no.” Marxus answered.

“Handy.” I grinned looking at him, “Thank you for the clear, and straight forward reply this time.”

“Well, you ARE here to learn, are you not?” he placed a hand on her shoulder then led her back up the stairs. Returning to the study, the bookshelf closed while he strolled toward his desk.

“Wow, a dragon…I met an actual dragon.” I proclaimed with excitement. Rubbing my hands together, yet again, this was all real and not just an illusion.

“Believe me, Yzavela…that was my first reaction too when I first encountered him all those centuries ago.” Marxus sat, “It is overwhelming, I know.”

“Overwhelming say is perfectly.”

“Now…” Marxus cleared his throat, “I think I’ve shown you enough to last you a lifetime for the time being, so if you have any other questions, just let me know.” he reached out his left hand across the desk, gesturing toward the door that opened on its own.

“No, I’m good. Thank you.” I ignored his urgent dismissal.

“You are welcome, but remember Yzavela, no one can know about Axeon, or the cavern beneath the island. Someday, if you feel his presence is necessary to reveal, that will be your choice but for now, he’s the most precious secret here. Your mother, of course, is the exception to this rule, only she can be trusted with such delicate matters.”

“My lips are sealed, but one more thing, then I’m gone.”

“Yes?” Marxus seemed impatient.

“When you placed the pendant on the door into the lock, the words you said were LA CLAVE before turning it, so is that the key to open it? The word, I mean?” I wondered.

“Yes. There is no variation, that’s the way I created it.”

“Okay, but let’s say if I were to say the word in my Spanish tongue, LA TECLA, it wouldn’t work?” I put him on the spot.

Frowning, he thought for a moment for she had a point.

“I-I don’t know. Perhaps next time you come through here, it wouldn’t hurt for you to try but that time is not now. Is that fair enough?” his reply was blunt and sharp.

“Yes. Fair enough.”

“Good.” he nodded, “Besides, you’re bonded to Axeon now, and since he’s the magic behind that said door, perhaps it will adjust to you and your energy. Now, please…run along now.”

“All right. Thank you. Again.” I offered an awkward wave, then turned, quickly leaving the study to return to my room. After walking Zanzabarr, and taking a hot shower, I visited my mom downstairs as she sat in the lounge, reading a book by the comfortable fire-pit that cracked with a low flame. Freya laid curled in her lap, purring loudly and kneading softly, “Hi.” I greeted them both, plopping next to her, with Zanzabarr laying at my feet.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Lady D smiled, lowering her book, “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you all day.”

“You’re not going to believe it.” I turned in my seat. Quickly, I explained the day’s events, watching as her eyes grew wide with curiosity and amazement, and then the conversation had changed, from talking about my position as Keeper, to the awkward and unfortunate encounter with Erik, “How did you know about that?” I shifted, “No one knows about that except for me, Sarah and Jonathan.”

“Ladies talk, you know.” Lady D answered softly, “So, tell me. What’s going on between the two of you, hmm?”

“Nothing, absolutely nothing! He’s an arrogant jacka** that bumped into me, and he still hasn’t apologized for it, and ugh, I don’t want to talk about him anymore.” I shook my head, “I came down here for something from the kitchen and then I’m going to bed, so is there anything you’d like before I go?”

“No, I’m fine.” she smiled.

“Mm-hmm.” I stood, “Love you.” I leaned in for a quick hug.

“Love you too.” she answered, shaking her head, and waiting until her daughter was far enough way, she whispered as she glanced down at Freya, petting her soft fur, “But she most definitely has her choice though, doesn’t she Freya? There’s Anthony, and now Erik.”

“I heard that!” I called out from the kitchen, “And the answer to your own question, is neither of them! Anthony’s too much of a lover and Erik’s a jacka** so that’s not really my type!” I veered around the kitchen table, carrying a plate with a thick sandwich wrapped with a napkin, “Goodnight.” I approached the stairs.

“Goodnight!” Lady D called out after her once more.

Returning to my room again, I relaxed on the bed, reading a few more pages from the three books, while sharing pieces of lunch meat with Zanzabarr who laid alongside me, wagging his full tail.

Marxus sat at his desk, removing a rolled up parchment from the left drawer, laying it atop with a compass in its round box. Leaning back, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair, he stared at the items in front of him, thinking about when it was time to begin the half-breed’s training and preparation. Even though he was the kind of man knowing how to handle situations, he still needed advice, like most wise men do. As he stood, he disappeared in a white wisp, reappearing in the cavern where Axeon stood by the entrance.

“How was your hunt?” he asked, petting the dragon’s snout.

“I am content, if that answers your inquiry but you did come here to discuss my appetite.” Axeon replied verbally, without the movement of his lips.

“No, I uh, I did not.” Marxus turned, pacing anxiously, “I’ve come here because I need your assistance.”

“What is it that you require of me?” Axeon stood tall above.

“I need to know when I should complete all of Yzavela’s swift training, she still has a lot to learn but there is little time.” he worried.

“I can say one thing about the half-breed. She learns quickly, that I have seen so she might surprise you, but remember...” he lowered his head, leaning in close, “time is of the essence, and she must take that journey and gain the prize that awaits her, if she is to take your place.”

“Prize?” Marxus wondered, “What does that mean?”

“I cannot say, whenever I attempt using my gift of sight, I am blocked by flame as if something is preventing me from the truth of her future, and yours.” Axeon answered solemnly, “I apologize, but even I, am limited.”

Looking directly in Axeon’s golden eyes, Marxus realized he was right, giving two answers in the same response. Petting the dragon’s snout affectionately he finished in a soft whisper,

“Thank you for your wisdom. As always. I will make all of the preparations necessary then.”

“It is my pleasure, and yes, you should.” Axeon nodded, “And there is one more concern, be cautious of the man that takes your place when you are absent. He who appears as you, but is not you, appears to the half-breed and teaches her but she is unaware that he is not you. This can only be the trickery of Demons. Although, I cannot see them.”

“He who isn’t me?! If it’s not me, then who is it?!” Marxus’ voice grew loud, revealing his Spanish temper, “I am growing tired of the riddles.”

“That I do not know, but stated previously, all I see is fire.” Axeon turned away, “Fire everywhere, now go. You need to rest and recharge your essence for what is to come. You will be away from the Isle soon and you know the distance from this place will diminish your life.”

Marxus frowned, knowing Axeon was right. Again. And he knew there was no sense in arguing with the mythical beast.

“One more warning.” Axeon declared, “Be weary of the young child, even though she is the one the orb-stone has chosen, I too, upon our bond being made, saw glimpses of fire and now you must tell me what she is, if I am to assist her.”

Sighing softly, Marxus explained when he knew about her. He watched as the dragon appeared nervous because he had never dealt with Demons on a personal basis, regardless if she was half or not, the magic set forth protecting the island, by Demon, Jinn and dragon magic, prohibited Shayds from arriving on its shores.

“Only time will tell, Marxus Castillion…only time will tell. Now leave me, I must replenish my own strength.” Axeon turned away.

Marxus nodded, then turned, reappearing in the study. He wondered though, looking around, about the individual that’s been taking his place when he wasn’t around. It troubled him greatly, though he felt he had nothing to worry about in the end, because even though it wasn’t him, if it meant she was learning, one way or another, he wouldn’t be too concerned. Returning to the desk, taking a seat, he attempted reaching for the parchment and compass but felt a sudden lightheaded sensation flooding over him. Resting his elbows on the desk he argued,

“No, not now please!” and before he could say anything more, he vanished, disappearing into another wisp of light slowly rising upward through the roof.

Minutes after Marxus vanished, the stranger appeared next to the desk, spinning the chair around before taking a seat.

“You should be gone for quite a long while.” he mumbled with a mischievous smile, and sitting in the chair, cracking his knuckles, he glanced around looking for a writing utensil and paper. Once a letter had been written in his own hand in the most perfect penmanship, he waved his hands across his natural appearance, turning into Marxus once more. Quickly withdrawing to the bathroom, he examined his reflection with a proud smile. His own natural dark eyes, changed to Marxus’ Hazel-brown shade and all of the tattoos along his jawline and neck, slowly disappeared. He pulled down on the vest then turned, returning to the desk for the letter, which he placed in his pocket.

“NOW WHO CAN DELIVER THIS LETTER?” he thought, “WHO DOES SHE TRUST? ERIK? NO, NOT THAT BOY. SARAH? DEFINITELY NOT, SHE’S TOO NOSY AND WILL TRY READING THE CONTENTS THAT AREN’T FOR HER EYES.” he looked around, “THE GUARDIANS ON THE WALL HAVE NO BUSINESS IN THIS AND HAVE THEIR OWN DUTIES. THINK MOLOCK, IT HAS TO BE SOMEONE SHE KNOWS.” he paced anxiously and impatiently, “THE MORTAL SISTERS MARGARET AND BELLE?” he shivered, “UGH, I THINK NOT, SO THAT LEAVES THE DEMON, JONATHAN SAXON. YES, HE WILL DO FINE.” he glanced around the study once more then left, closing the door behind him and with a wave of his hand, he locked it from the inside. Walking down the stairs, the tall, mischievous impostor nonchalantly nodded toward those coming and going from the dining hall. Standing in the entryway, his eyes scanned the hall until landing on Jonathan, who sat with Sarah. Strolling over he joined them.

“Are you sure you want to sit there?” Sarah questioned.

“Yes, why would I not?” the impostor answered in Marxus’ voice and Spanish accent, “I do not want to appear as some stuck up, old wizard, hmm?” he glanced between the young man and woman, “So what are you two lovelies talking about, hmm? If it’s gossip, I love gossip.”

Jonathan and Sarah looked at each other, then back at him. It was strange, because Marxus never publicly ate in front of anyone, so watching his mannerisms and his hands piling the plate in front of him with food that could feed ten people, it was odd. Jonathan said nothing, catching the strange scent then frowned, leaning forward. Asking curiously, he wanted to look into the man’s eyes.

“Marxus, are you all right? You seem different and you smell different too.” Jonathan moaned, “New cologne?”

“Of course.” the impostor answered, avoiding the eye contact he knew the young man wanted. Enjoying the taste of the food he answered after chewing elegantly, “Yes, I am fine and yes, new cologne. I got bored of the old and wanted to try something new.” he shrugged, “Is there something wrong with that, Red?” he raised his gaze, making eye contact with the young Australian sitting across from him.

Jonathan’s blue eyes grew wide because he wasn’t Immortal like the real Marxus, but keeping the observations to himself that he was in the presence of a powerful Demon capable of shape-shifting, he remained silent knowing how dangerous and unpredictable they could be. Clenching his jaw, he closed his fists, keeping an arcane on the top of his tongue in case he needed to defend himself and Sarah.

“Jonathan?” the man asked, “Are you all right?”

“He’s fine, he was just asking you a question.” Sarah looked at him curiously.

Staring at her, the impostor scoffed sarcastically, looking into her big blue eyes, lowering his fork and knife,

“I was not talking to you, and I do not think this young man and Demon, appreciates that the fact that you speak for him when he is perfectly capable of doing so on his own, so keep your little nose out of things that do not pertain to you.” he raised the knife, pointing it at her, making a menacing statement, “Besides, I am sure and I am never wrong, you are needed elsewhere with that young…” he held back his next words, not wanting to cause too much trouble that couldn’t be fixed upon the real Marxus’ return, “ugh…” he sighed, “nevermind, you’re not worth it.” he laid the fork and knife on the plate, then dabbed his mouth before laying the napkin on the table, “Jonathan, may I speak with you? Privately for a just a moment, I would like to hire your services.”

“Hire my service?” Jonathan raised his eyebrows curiously, “Um, okay?” he wondered, then awkwardly nodded. Glancing at Sarah, who sat with a deep frown, he stood without a word spoken to her.

Glaring at the men walking away, she then looked back down at her plate, pushing aside the food, feeling left out and like an outcast among those that have known her for years.

“Is everything okay Marxus?” Jonathan turned to the man, “I mean really okay, you seem off.”

“I told you, I’m fine. Now…I need you to bring this letter to our mutual little Yzavela, for you’re the only one, it seems, that she and I, can trust to deliver it without having the urge to read its contents. Please, do this for me, and I promise that I will never forget it, Red.” he removed the letter from his vest pocket, handing it to the young man, “And whatever you do, do not open it. I will know if you do, do you understand?” he placed a finger against his temple.

Gulping slightly, Jonathan tucked the letter away.

“I don’t mind at all, I’ll bring it to her on my way home.”

“Good, very good.” the impostor stated smugly, “As long as she receives it tonight. It’s all about timing.”

“Yeah, sure thing Sir.” Jonathan nodded, “And can I ask, since when do you start calling me Red? You’ve never done that, and you know I hate that because of my red hair.”

“I just have an extra spring in my step, I apologize. Now run along.” he turned Jonathan around, gently nudging him back toward the dining hall. Studying the young man’s demeanor, he continued within his own guarded thoughts, “FOOLISH BOY.” and looking around at his surrounding, the impostor slowly returned to the study, and simply walking through the door, he shook off Marxus’ glamour. Rolling his neck and his broad shoulders in circular motions, he walked over sitting behind the desk once more, resting his feet on the ledge. As he leaned his head on his hands against the back of the chair, he stared at the ceiling then grew bored of waiting. Standing quickly, he walked toward the fireplace examining the sword put on display, “Hmm.” he mumbled, removing the weapon from its stand, slowly unsheathing the blade, “Eh. Beautiful craftsmanship though, considering it’s Templar forged.” he lowered it, then turned, twirling it around and it cut through the air, creating that metallic ZING. He was impressed, sensing small traces of magic running along the blade, hilt and pommel. Sliding it back into its sheath, he returned the weapon back to its place, then walked outside. Standing on the balcony, he waited for his reply to the letter.

It was an fifteen minutes before curfew, and I sat in one of the the chairs, reading pages from the Demon book. I practiced minor spells that kin of my ranks, half-breeds, were capable of performing. Looking at Zanzabarr, I smiled for I succeeded in the incantations but then he stood, facing the door, staring at it intensely.

“Zanzabarr, what is it?” I whispered, laying the book down on the table.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Releasing loud growls, he ran toward the door, thumping his large paws against the barricade between himself and them.

Rushing toward my bed, reaching for a dagger I kept hidden under my pillow, I lept forward, pulling Zanzabarr away from the door.

“Who is it?!” I called out cautiously, holding the dagger down.

“Jonathan.” his voice answered softly, so he didn’t disturb the others on the floor.

Peeking through the small peephole door, there he stood. I sighed then closed the peephole, opening my door slowly, seeing the Australian standing there glancing up and down the hall.

“Hey, what’s up?” I greeted.

“Um, is that for me or?” he gestured down at the dagger she held in hand.

“Sorry.” I grinned, laying the blade on the table by the door, “It’s a bit late for you to be here, everything okay?”

“Yeah, I know and I’m sorry. I just escorted Sarah back to her room and since you’re right next door, it makes things easier.”

“Makes what easier?” I wondered.

“Marxus asked me to give this to you.” he handed her a letter he held in hand, “He said it was important.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you.” I frowned, “Did he say what it said?”

“No, and I didn’t ask. When it comes to Marxus, it’s best not to ask questions, I think you know that already.” Jonathan shrugged with a grin, “And he kept calling me Red…” he ran his fingers through his hair, “which was weird.”

“Well…” I looked up at his red hair, “you are red haired.”

“Ha-ha, funny but he knows I hate that term and yet, I don’t know.” he sighed, “Anyway, goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” I patted his arm, then watched as he walked down the hall. Closing my door, locking it, my eyes looked down at the letter I held in my hands. Returning to the chair, laying the parchment on the table, I stared at it for the longest time then glanced at Zanzabarr who walked over, giving it a quick sniff before laying his head on the arm of the chair, “If it’s from Marxus, I should open it, right?” I heard a whine in reply, “Guess that’s a yes.” I reached over, picking it up then smiled, watching as the large wolf sniffed at it once more, before letting out a deep sneeze as if not liking the scents, “Okay, enough. Lay down.” I pointed at the ground then opened the letter that was folded three times and sealed with wax that had the insignia M deeply stamped. Breaking the seal with a loud snap, creating a few sparks of embers, I unfolded the letter and read Marxus’ words that weren’t written in ink, but they appeared burned onto the paper. In penmanship that was not Marxus’ it read:

“Yzavela…

I know I’ve given you a lot of responsibility, and perhaps too much at once, but I feel that it is necessary. You still have a lot to learn and in a short time, something that has taken me centuries to do, so two days from now, I would like for you to meet me by the training yard in the morning, we shall began your physical training which will entail weaponry and tapping into your arcane magics, and I do hope you have been learning from the pages of the Demon book. Everything you will be taught will be for a reason and even though it might sound unnecessary, believe me, you will need it. Now, once you are done with this letter, I want you to put it in your fireplace and burn it, that will let me know that you have received this and understood its contents. And when I say burn it, my lovely, I do not mean with a match, but with your natural gifts. Now goodnight, my lovely. See you in two days, enjoy them fully with your friends and your mother.

-M.A.C.”

Staring at the parchment, I thought about the contents of it, and then there it was, the way he signed the letter with the initials, M.A.C. which he told me he wasn’t fond of. Maybe he meant it as a joke between us, I didn’t know but I took a deep breath, wondering if it would all be worth it in the end so I decided why not, it certainly wouldn’t be a dull or boring life. Standing slowly, I strolled toward my fireplace, laying the letter on the unlit logs then holding out my right hand, creating a living flame that was more like a burst of my fiery Aura, I tossed it into the fireplace, watching as the logs quickly ignited. Walking over laying on the soft mattress of my bed with Zanzabarr jumping up on the foot sprawled out, I listened as the crackling fire burned the logs and the letter. Falling asleep, the day finally caught up to me.

Embers from the letter, levitated upward through the narrow chimney as if being summoned somewhere unknown and as they flew through the air, the impostor reached out his hand, cupping the embers in his palms with a piece of the paper that was whole with the words UNDERSTAND clearly unburnt. He smiled, before hearing a guttural voice calling his name.

“MOLOCK!” the voice summoned repeated.

“So it begins.” Molock, whispered, then turned disappearing in a bright burst of red swirling flame.

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