Atlantean Legacy

 

A second prequel to Xander Muyo, a story by Top_Quark

 

 

The year is 11,000 before the birth of Christ. The world is a very different place than it is today. The Island-Nation of Atlantis was at the peak of its power. Most of the northern half of the world was covered in a thick sheet of ice, causing the world’s water-level to be 150 meters lower than it is today. The axis of the world was of a different alignment, causing the south and north poles to be at different locations than they are today.

Antarctica, site of the future south pole, rested in the temperate zone, and it was on this vast continent that the Island-Nation of Atlantis had arisen to power. Its inhabitants had great technology, based on crystals, having taken a completely different turn than the conductor and metal-based technology that is in use today.

It is this time, the heyday of Atlantean civilization, that we meet Andorias, the leading scientist in the field of Transmology, a brand-new field of research dealing with the possibility of changing the characteristics of beings through interactions with the Unias-crystals, the crystals used in the INA as integral part in the power distribution grid. Unias crystals had the characteristics of transmogrifying one type of energy into another, and Atlanteans used the crystals to gain power from the sun, stars, or the Earth’s own power grid – the grid known as the lay-line network.

Andorias walked into the research laboratory he and his team had been using for the last year. As everything in the Imperial Palace, the room was made of mirror-polished clear crystal. Atlanteans grew crystals for everything… they built with them, used them in their technology, and used them to create and transport power. Andorias, right before entering the lab, threw a look up.

Directly overhead, he could see a great white beam of power connect the laboratory to the nearest Unias crystal, placed high on the mountain overlooking Poseidopolis, the Atlantean capital. Smiling at his childishness, Andorias walked into the lab. Only the children were supposed to be in awe of the crystals, their workings, and the sheer power that was held in their use. It was conduct unbefitting a Head Crystal Scientist.

On one side stood four crystalline incubators, slightly taller and slightly wider than man-sized. They were connected directly to the Unias crystal in the roof of the laboratory to directly drain their power from the Atlantean power grid. Inside each of the incubators was a man, with eyes closed, in what appeared to be a deep state of rest.

Andorias walked to the first incubator, which held a reddish color. “How are we doing today, Colonel?” he asked the incubator, receiving no response, as usual. The man inside of the incubator, Colonel Petras, was one of the four heroes who volunteered for this… mission. Andorias held no doubts. The experiment would work.

He walked to the next incubator. This one held a gentle blue color. “And you, Captain? Everything is well, I trust?” Andorias asked, scribbling something on the crystal tablet he held. Captain Vitar was the second volunteer. He was to be infused with the essence of the sea, and the essence of the last remaining Sea-Dragon, to be precise.

Andorias halted at the third incubator, this one totally see-through, instead of just the door, like the other incubators. “How is the food, Lieutenant? To your satisfaction, I hope?” Andorias joked, scribbling something down on the tablet. Lieutenant Guntar was to be merged with the Thunderbird, granting him the power of the element Air. Andorias, unimpressed by the feats they were performing, walked to the last incubator, a brown in color.

“And you, Private? The quarters not too cramped?” Andorias joked, chuckling slightly to himself. Private first-class Soman was fusing with the element of ‘earth’, and the Clay Golem, to be precise.

Andorias walked to the three assistants working the machinery scattering along the remaining three walls. Putting his crystal tablet in the reading slot, the computer downloaded the data Andorias had recorded in under a second. The machine beeped its completion. “Nothing happened during the night?” Andorias asked the assistant nearest him.

“No, M’Lord,” the assistant replied respectfully. “The power has remained steady now that the Emperor decreed a direct Unias feed, and the computer has given no warnings.”

Andorias nodded. “Very well. I will be with Hargos if you require me,” Andorias said, turning to walk out.

“Yes, M’Lord,” the assistant replied reverently, returning to his duties. Andorias walked out; taking the exact route he had taken earlier. One minute later, he entered a small transparent booth.

“This is Andorias, Head Researcher for his Imperial Majesty in the field of Transmology. I wish to be directed to Hargos, Military Research for the Transmology project,” he told the clear crystal panel in front of him.

Acknowledged, the panel replied. One moment please, Lord Andorias.

Exactly one moment later, Andorias found himself in a cavern, directly next to his co-researcher and long-time friend, Hargos. “I’ve been expecting you,” Hargos greeted his friend. “They’re almost done, Andorias!”

Andorias nodded, looking at the four Unias Crystals placed strategically around the puddle of magma in the center of the cavern. Directly in the center, above the puddle, a fifth piece of Unias crystal was floating, being carried by four beams of fiery energy coming from the Unias crystals.

“The Fire Sword seems to be growing steadily,” Andorias remarked. “How fast is it now?”

“Ten milons per day,” Hargos replied proudly. “The others are growing just as fast. Care to see?”

Andorias shrugged. “I have nothing better to do until they hatch. Lead the way.”

Hargos smiled. “I know, I know… same here.” He tapped the crystal armband he was wearing. “Two for the Holy Mountain.”

The next moment, the duo found themselves on the top of Mount Aras, the Holy Mountain of the INA. The top had the cleanest, purest air of the entire Empire… and for the last year, the entire summit had been closed for visitors. Four Unias crystals were floating high above their heads, beaming jets of white energy to a piece of crystal on the floor.

“This one is growing 8 milons,” Hargos said calmly. “We’re still on schedule. I’m confident that, by the time it’s over, all the Elemental Swords will be at the same length.”

Andorias nodded thoughtfully, and smiled. “You know,  you’re so lucky, being part of the military,” he suddenly said. “I still have to use public booths.”

Hargos smiled as well. “I offered you to join me. The Septumvirate would have accepted you in a heartbeat. Still would, for that matter.”

Andorias chuckled. “I know. I’m just not good at taking orders. As it is now, I listen only to the Emperor.”

Hargos laughed loudly. “What? You think I let seven army guys tell me what to do? My good friend, I too, answer only to the Emperor… much to the chagrin of the Septumvirate.”

“I think I’ll be giving your offer a lot more thought, then… once this project is over,” Andorias replied honestly. “So, what’s next?”

“Two for the Gulf of Suya,” Hargos said in his armband, upon which the two friends found themselves on a floating platform, floating on the clearest, bluest waters Andorias had ever seen. In front of them were four large Unias crystals, half in and half out of the water, beaming their energy to a piece of crystal floating in mid-air, steadily accepting the blue beams of energy.

“Infusion with the energy of water,” Hargos said.

“How fast is this one growing?” Andorias asked.

“Six milons,” Hargos replied steadily. “Totally reversed from the beginning, where earth grew the fastest and fire the slowest. If the same evolution in growth persists, we’ll have identical lengths by the end of the month, when the project is over.”

“How fast is earth growing?” Andorias asked curiously.

“Four milons,” Hargos answered his friend’s curiosity.

 

One by one, the four men strode into the room, dressed in the special type of body armor worn by the Atlantean Special Forces. It was of a simple crystal design, providing protection against various types of energy and kinetic-style weaponry. It also provided quite a good protection against temperatures, as well as a breathing apparatus to extract oxygen from water, enabling the men to breathe while submerged.

“Colonel Petras. Captain Vitar. Lieutenant Guntar. Private Soman. Welcome,” the man who was already present in the room said. He appeared to be in his early fifties, slightly graying hair still showing the deep black of his original hair and beard color. His eyes were a dark gray, but stood not unkindly as he took in the newcomers. “My name is Grognar. I will be your Head Instructor, as well as your hand-to-hand combat instructor.”

For the duration of the training, these four men would receive training, separated from the other recruits. They were supposed to be the next generation in fighting men, and Grognar couldn’t wait to see how it turned out.

Grognar looked at Colonel Petras, who had a blonde scalp and beard, and his blue eyes stood intelligent. He appeared to be 35, a young age to already be in the upper echelons of the military, and Grognar couldn’t believe that a colonel actually volunteered to be in combat once again. Grognar’s mind pulled up the file. Colonel Petras possesses a superior military intelligence and an uncanny tactical ability. His is charismatic, a good motivator, and able to pull his men out of lost situations… alive.

Grognar immediately liked the man. He looked at the second in command of the ‘Elemental Unit’, as it was now known. Captain Vitar was about 30, had brown hair and no beard, and gray eyes. Slightly less physical impressive than his superior, Vitar’s eyes stood bright, and Grognar coupled that intelligence to the fact that Vitar held a 150 IQ, and an ability to study the most diverse of subjects. Vitar was the team’s scientific specialist.

Lieutenant Guntar had almost-black hair, and he was the ‘military type’. Just like his companions, Guntar possessed superior intelligence, yet contrary to his two superiors, Guntar’s specialty lay with battle and war. He was the type to fight, fight again, and fight some more until all his enemies lay dead… something Grognar himself thought was a good attitude.

Private Soman was the younger brother of Guntar, and held a similar view in life. He, too, had dark-brown hair and was of a similar physical built as his older brother.

“It is an honor to be here, Sir,” Petras answered for his team, executing the Atlantean military greeting: balling his fists, crossing his wrists, and pushing the cross to his forehead. It was a sign of both respect and trust… a sign no one really knew where it came from, but it was still in use.

Petras responded the way any superior would: by simply dipping his head. “Over the next year, I will be in charge of every training you receive. The INA has invested a lot of recourses and time in you, so your training will be the most intensive anybody has ever received.”

“We’re looking forward to it, Sir,” Petras answered calmly, not a hint of trepidation in his voice.

Grognar smiled. Not for long, colonel. I can guarantee it.

 

Grognar, Andorias, and Hargos were standing in Grognar’s office, looking at a scene displaying on one of the walls. It showed Colonel Petras engaged in sword-combat with another man.

“Those guys are unbelievable,” Grognar said. “That is Hiyas! That man is the best master swordsmen in generations! And Petras is humiliating him!”

Andorias and Hargos chuckled. “I warned you, Grognar… we haven’t even begun to tap into their strength yet. When will the true tests begin?”

Grognar grunted. “We were thinking, begin next week. But now I’m not so sure we shouldn’t start tomorrow.”

Andorias nodded. “Start tomorrow,” he told the instructor. “I’ll clear it with the Emperor. Use the Island. Just don’t disturb the locals… they’ve been there 30,000 years already, and their culture is very different from ours.”

Grognar choked, and turned to Andorias. “But that…that’s the hardest training an elite soldier can receive! Only ten percent ever make it back! Alive!”

“These men can handle it, Grognar. Unless you think otherwise?” Hargos said, wincing slightly at a hard thump coming from the screen. Out of the corner of his eye, Hargos saw Petras help the hapless master swordsman to his feet. Since they were only using wooden training swords, Hargos doubted the colonel had hurt the man. Seriously.

Grognar stared at the screen. “Visual off,” he told the wall, which turned back to it opaque-crystal state. No one would ever have guessed the wall served as a visual transmitter. “I don’t know,” he said, sitting back at his desk. “You created them. I guess I’ll have no other choice but to accept your judgment, and do as you ask.”

“Much appreciated, Chief Instructor,” Andorias replied. “Let’s go pay our men a visit,” he said to Hargos.

“Goodbye, M’Lords,” Grognar greeted them as they left his office.

Andorias and Hargos walked down the hall, and entered a large room on their right. Petras, Vitar, Guntar and Soman were standing in line, watching as a new instructor demonstrated battle staff techniques to them. The two scientists never even bothered to think about the instructor they had seen earlier. This man was probably the best in his field… and he was about to get his ass handed to him.

“May we spare one moment of your time?” Andorias asked.

“You may not,” the battle staff man replied angrily. It was obvious the man thought this duty beneath him, and he wanted to have things over with as soon as possible. Angrily, he went about his task of showing the basic battle staff motions to the new recruits.

“Any volunteers?” the instructor asked angrily.

Want me to have him thrown to the lions? Hargos asked his companion under his breath, fingering the transport-bracelet. It’s only a word.

Just wait, Andorias whispered back. I will enjoy this part.

Hargos chuckled slightly, careful as to not attract attention by the battle staff instructor.

“I got the last one,” Petras told his companions. “Captain, your turn.”

“Aye, sir,” Captain Vitar replied eagerly, grabbing the wooden staff in an unadulterated master’s grip. The master just batted one eyebrow at the advanced grip, yet got in a stance, and charged.

He charged with a high strike, with Vitar blocked. Immediately afterwards, the student ducked, and threw one end of his staff towards the master’s abdominal region.

“What the…!” the man exclaimed, dodging backwards. “I didn’t show you that move!” he choked, shocked.

“It’s logical,” Vitar replied casually, standing erect without a hint of battle-stance in his entire posture. Except for the staff that was held loosely in his hands, the man seemed utterly harmless.

The master charged with a slash to the head, which Vitar ducked under, and turned with one leg extended at the same time. Hooking his leg behind his teacher’s, he threw the man to the ground. Immediately afterwards, he jumped up, and prepared to strike at the form on the floor with his staff.

The master wasn’t there anymore, having rolled out of the way, and jumped to his feet. The staff was a weapon best suited for defense, and it was a fact Vitar found out soon after. He blocked five consecutive blows by the master, before retaliating. He planted a stroke under the man’s right arm, and the ribs could be heard cracking. Vitar winced, yet hooked his staff behind his teacher’s legs, and threw him to the ground for a second time that day.

The master groaned in pain, shock, and confusion. “Who…who are you guys?” he grunted out.

“Allow me, Captain,” Andorias said, walking back into view. “My name is Andorias, Head Scientist to the Emperor in the field of Transmology… and this is Hargos, Chief Weapons Designer, also directly to the Emperor. And these four men are the next generation in soldiers. Colonel Petras, Captain Vitar, Lieutenant Guntar, and Private Soman.”

The man on the floor turned white. “M’Lords,” he grunted, getting up with a lot of hissing noises, thanks to his cracked ribs.

“Go to the Infirmary,” Andorias said coldly. “And be thankful I don’t have you thrown to the lions.”

The master swallowed, nodded, hissed in pain, and stumbled out of the room… leaving his staff. Andorias kicked the hapless item out of the way, assuming a position in front of the four soldiers. Hargos stood next to him.

“Gentlemen, for the last three days, I have monitored your progress. Your hand-to-hand fighting skills are impressive. Very impressive.”

“Thank you, M’Lord,” Petras answered.

Andorias gave a curt nod. “I always give credit where credit is due,” he answered levelly. “And right now, you men are the best of the best. You are … the elite.”

Petras and his men seemed to grow in pride. The term the elite carried so much emotional weight with it, after all… no one had been called elite since their forefathers founded the empire of Atlantis. The elite…the last elite… had been the best of the best of the best. Lead by a woman called the Slayer, these men fought against anything that stood against humanity. To be called elite was the greatest honor attainable in the INA, one everyone strove for, yet no one had received in those five thousand years it had taken the INA to grow.

“And for the elite… there are elite weapons,” Andorias said, stepping aside to let Hargos take his place.

The military scientist opened the briefcase he had been carrying, and showed its contents to the four soldiers. Inside the briefcase lay four handles, seemingly identical in nature: a clear crystal, wound by leather for added grip.

“Take your weapon, and assume your rightful rank as elites,” Hargos said. Petras shuffled forward. His hand seemed to shake slightly as it reached for the handle on the furthest right. Seeing that the item caused no adverse effects, the others shuffled closer. Soon, they were all holding a handle.

“How do you feel, men?” Andorias asked.

Petras simply tumbled the handle through his hands. “Like someone with half a weapon, M’Lord,” he answered honestly.

The two scientists chuckled. “Those are Unias handles, infused with the same energy that has infused you. That’s why you knew which handle to take.”

“And this means… what, M’Lord?” Vitar asked respectfully.

“These weapons are part of you, and only you. No one else may touch them. Feel them out… and let the swords come to you.”

“Swords?” Petras asked, surprised, looking at his handle. He closed his eyes, and focused on the item. Immediately, he could feel his energy connecting to the blade’s. “Activate,” he muttered.

Everyone, including the two scientists, jumped half a meter away from Petras as the sword suddenly seemed to come alive. The clear crystal, visible in the hand guard and the end of the handle, suddenly flared a fire-red. On top grew a crystal with the construction of a flame… the outer edge was red as fire, while the inside was a fiery blue.

“Mighty,” Petras whispered as the crystal finished its construction.

“These are Elemental Crystal Blades,” Hargos said. “Guaranteed unbreakable. Also guaranteed irreplaceable… it took us a year to grow those handles, and infuse them with the energy necessary for this.”

By now, the other three were waving their swords around as well. Vitar’s water blade waved like the ocean, and held a gentle bluish color. The weapon’s curved made it seem just as painful as Petra’s fire-blade if it were to penetrate a human body.

Guntar’s air-blade was almost transparent in color. Given it’s almost-transparency, the blade seemed ethereal, giving it a… ghostly… impression. It was a straight blade, but that did not subtract form the fact that there was something dangerous about the weapon.

Soman’s earth blade was brown in color, and like his brother’s, was straight. It too, held an air of danger about it.

 

“Those guys are impossible!” Grognar snarled as he fell into his chair at the training institute.

Andorias, who had been in the room, yet out of view of the enraged Instructor, lifted an eyebrow. “Is there a problem, Chief Instructor?”

Grognar paled, sighed, and fell upon the flask of Ferment he always had in his desk. Pouring himself a drink, he held out the flask to his ‘visitor’, who shook his head. Grognar took a swig from the bottle, capped it, and put it back in the drawer it had come from. The milky-white fermented goat’s milk disappeared with a single motion.

“In three days they mastered every form of traditional-weapon combat, ranging from the staff, over the sword, to the bow and crossbow. In it self that is an incredible feat, considering the fact that they didn’t sleep, eat, or drink for the duration of those three days. So, we expected them to be in less than good shape,” Grognar began, leaning back. “Begin visual,” he told the wall. “Training file Alpha #1.”

The screen displayed sceneries along with Grognar’s words. “We brought them to the hardest, mot desolate landscape on the Island, determined to test these men… so just how far we can push them. So, I called in a team of Sea-born Infiltration Forces, thinking that, fi anyone can tame them, it’s the SIF.”

Grognar looked a little fearfully at the man sitting in front of his desk, to see his reaction to his admissions. To Grognar’s surprise, Andorias seemed to nod thoughtfully. “The best forces the INA military has to offer,” he said. “If I remember correctly, they are experts in at least three forms of hand-to-hand combat, able to live off the land in any region of the world, and are capable of operating any weapon or military machinery in the INA arsenal.”

“That’s correct, M’Lord,” Grognar answered, relieved that his superior agreed with his decision. “So, for two weeks we push them through the island, the SIFs drilling them in marching, use of weapons, reconnaissance, tracking, sniping, self-reliance, and special tactics… at full war-simulation, meaning they get less than four hours of sleep every two days or so, and no outside food source. Everything has to be provided for by themselves, on top of the training. A full war-simulation. So, we think that your men would snap within days.”

“They didn’t,” Andorias replied calmly. “Am I correct?”

“Understatement, M’Lord,” Grognar answered. “Not only did they not snap, they started improving the tactics of SIF after only four days of training! That SIF group learned more from those guys than they did from SIF!”

“It appears that our experiment is getting out of hand,” Andorias replied after a five-second silence that spoke volumes. “We never thought them to be this strong. Our goal was to create warrior that could be training in a matter of weeks instead of years, not create soldiers who have no limits…” Andorias finished his sentence in a whisper. He stood up, and looked at Grognar. “Chief Instructor, have them transferred to the Special Forces.”

Grognar’s eyes went wide. “Special Forces? But M’Lord, the SIF…”

“Those are conventional Special Forces. I am talking unconventional Special Forces,” Andorias said calmly, sitting down again.

Grognar swallowed. “I’ve only ever sent five people good enough to that group… you’re right, M’Lord. If anyone qualifies, these people do.”

“If Elisheva doesn’t tame them, no one can… and I will prepare for just such a continuity,” Andorias answered calmly, standing up once more. “I must confer with my associate. Good day, Chief Instructor.”

“Good day, M’Lord,” Grognar answered, seeing the Chief Scientist leave. Immediately after the door fell shut, Grognar opened his drawer, took the bottle of Ferment, and drained it. The white liquor burned through his throat all the way down to his stomach, where it settled in a pleasant warmth.

“Visual. Connection. Her Majesty Elisheva, Guardian of the Empire, Slayer of demons, Protector of the Innocent.”

The wall displayed a huge ‘connecting’ sign, before being replaced by the face of a woman in her late twenties, with brown eyes and matching chestnut hair.

“Your Majesty,” Grognar answered, bowing his head.

“Chief Instructor,” she answered pleasantly. “How many times have I told you to call me Elisheva?”

“Too many times, Your Majesty,” Grognar replied, smiling as he lifted his head to finally look at the wall. “I call for a matter of importance.”

“It always is, isn’t it?” Elisheva answered, smiling a little sad. “How can I help you?”

“Have you heard of the Elemental Project, Your Majesty?” Grognar inquired.

“Elisheva. You will call me by my name, or I will terminate this connection immediately,” Elisheva answered coolly, not answering his question.

Grognar sighed, then smiled. “Excuse me. Have you heard of the Elemental Project, Elisheva?” he asked the question once more.

“I have, Grognar. What’s the problem?”

“I have just had a very…disturbing meeting with Lord Andorias. It seems that the project is working better than planned, and His Lordship is getting fearful they may get out of hand,” Grognar reported. “This is what has happened so far…” he told her about the training, both of the weapons and the SIF training.

“By the Great Being,” Elisheva answered. “I see why the scientists are getting fearful. That kind of insight and ability is dangerous. I am confused, though. Why are you calling me?”

Grognar smiled. “Lord Andorias suggested that they be transferred to you. If anyone can break them, you can.”

Elisheva stared at him for a long time, yet Grognar knew that she was running things through in her mind. “You do know that, once they enter, they can’t leave, right? It’s too dangerous. Men trained by me can never be released into society.”

“We now, Elisheva. We know… Lord Andorias suggested it. He feels it’s the only way to make sure they receive the training that they’re due… and the only way to keep them under control.”

Elisheva nodded. “I can see that. I will contact Andorias, and talk ‘training’. Prepare them for transport, Grognar,” she commanded.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Grognar replied, knowing very well that, once she started ordering, that the friendship was buried deep within her heart, and business had taken over.

Elisheva nodded, and reached to terminate the connection. You didn’t terminate the connection on someone as high up as Elisheva. You were terminated upon. Just before the screen blinked off, her face grew a smile one last time. “I hope you come with them, Grognar. I am looking forward to another evening filled with tales about new recruits.”

“Of course, Elisheva,” Grognar answered with a smile, before the wall blinked off.

 

“This is your group’s new assignment, Colonel,” Grognar said, handing the crystal tablet to the man in question, before turning to leave the room the four men had been using while at the Training Institute. Before the door opened, he turned around. “It’s been an honor, gentlemen,” the instructor said, performing the Atlantean salute.

The four men startled, jumped up, and replied in kind. Dipping his head, the Chief Instructor walked out of the room.

“So, where are we going this time? The moon?” Soman joked. “They already pt us through the SIF training. Nothing tougher can be found on Earth.”

Petras chuckled, and pressed his thumb to the tablet. It decrypted the orders. “In the name of Supreme Being!” Petras cursed. “What in the name of The Void does this mean?!”

 The three others grouped around the tablet. Petras read out loud, “Transfer orders to the Unconventional Special Forces of the Island Nation of Atlantis. Report to transport booth forty-nine gamma at o-four-hundred hours standard time. Transportation to site Gamma. Report to Her Majesty Elisheva, Guardian of the Empire, Slayer of demons, and Protector of the Innocent. Signed: Duvar, Emperor of the Island Nation of Atlantis.”

“The Emperor?” Vitar choked.

“UNCONVENTIONAL Special Forces?” Guntar added in.

“You’re right, sir,” Soman said. “What in the name of the Great Void does this mean? And who is Elisheva, why is she a majesty, and what’s with all the titles?”

“I have no idea, Soman. I have no idea,” Petras whispered. “But whatever it is, I don’t think it’ll be a pleasure trip.”

“Like the SIF-trip?” Vitar chuckled. “We didn’t think that one would be a pleasure trip either, and we ended up teaching them as much as they taught us.”

Petras chuckled, deactivated the tablet, and didn’t even startle when it shattered into a million pieces. It was standard procedure by now… the Empire’s way of making sure the orders wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands. “We get up a 0300. That’s in two-and-a-half hours. I suggest we catch some sleep.”

The three others nodded, and climbed into their bunks. One minute later, the three were asleep.

Without the need for an alarm clock, the four men awake at exactly –three-hundred the next morning. One by one, the men jumped under the shower, the first one turning the device to ‘ice cold’ before using it, and the last one returning it to ‘normal’ after he was done. Then they had breakfast at a service station that provided service twenty-three hours a day.

At exactly one minute to four in the morning, they asked a transport booth to take them to transport pad 49 gamma, and got the shock of their lives when the machine replied it didn’t know such a place.

“Computer, emergency access, Colonel Petras of the Elemental Project. Under act 1 of the Emergency Special Forces Act, I demand access to the black projects map of the city.”

Colonel Petras. Authorization accepted. Instead of displaying the map in question, the machine hummed. Captain Vitar. Lieutenant Guntar. Private Soman. Authorizations locked. Booth now known as booth forty-nine gamma. Transportation cycle to gamma site enabled.

The next moment, the four found themselves in a room that may lay just around the corner… or halfway around the world. The room they were in had its crystal walls tuned to a deep black color. Lighting was provided to red illuminating strips on the floor and ceiling. The room didn’t seem to have a door.

“Great. Now where are we?” Guntar exclaimed.

Suddenly, the room seemed to light up as one side of the room became a video wall. A face filled it. “My name is Elisheva… and you must be the Elemental Warriors.”

The four men performed the Atlantean salute before Petras spoke, “We are, Your Majesty. May we ask why we are… detained?”

The little hiccough wasn’t lost on Elisheva, who chuckled. “We need to confirm your identities.” She looked to her side, and nodded to someone. A door in the room slid open. Petras remained where he was, while the other three jumped into attack positions. Guntar and Soman flanked the door on the left and right, while Vitar remained standing right in front of it, to see down the hallways that lay behind the door.

“Your identities have been confirmed. Please, follow that hall to the end, and enter the door on the right. There we will meet in person… and hold introductions.” The screen clicked off, leaving the twilit room back in the almost-darkness it had been in first. The hallway behind the door was just as dark as the room was.

“Must be the standard color,” Petras said. “Black and red. Cheerful. Gives me the creeps,” he muttered, before nodding to his men, and started to walk. The three followed him, their eyes scanning the even walls, not detecting a hint of a door anywhere. At the end, they turned to the right… and didn’t see a door.

“These doors blend in so perfectly,” Petras whispered to his men. “The technology in this place is at least fifty years ahead of the rest of Atlantis… if not more.”

Vitar nodded, and examined the wall, letting his hand trail over the even crystal surface that felt slightly warm to the touch. “Heated walls,” he noted. “More efficient than those in Atlantis.”

“Just try and open the door, Vitar,” Petras whispered, looking around. “This place looks like the Great Void, and I do NOT like it.”

“Got it,” Vitar whispered, pressing a spot on the wall, allowing the door to slide open.

“Ah, the warriors,” Elisheva said from the center of the room. “Come in!”

“Thank you, your Majesty,” Petras said, walking in.

“Call me Elisheva,” she ordered. “We’re all on the moon together. There is no Atlantis here. We’re all pretty much equals. I only allow ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’, and that’s in combat situations. When we’re here, we’re all friends.”

“The moon?” Guntar whispered.

“Told you,” Soman chuckled.

Elisheva chuckled as well. “If you don’t mind, Colonel, I would like to test you and your men on their physical fitness… what we’ll be doing is reserved for that top 0.1% of the human population.”

“We are all in top physical shape, ma’am,” Petras answered with a hint of proud in his voice.

“Elisheva,” she corrected him evenly, and looked the four men over. She pointed at Soman. “You. Come here. What’s your name?”

“Private Soman, ma…Elisheva,” he corrected himself, feeling trepidation creep up his spine.

“Very well, Soman. Fight me,” she ordered.

“Ma’am?” Soman choked. The next moment, she flew towards him with a speed he had always believed impossible. Her fist came racing towards him, and he did the thing eh had been trained for these last few weeks: he blocked it. A sharp pang of pain shot through his wrist as it blocked the strike by this woman. The next moment, eh was aware of her face shifting slightly, and her leg racing towards his left leg.

He jumped up, propped himself up on one arm as he landed, and flailed both his legs towards her. She danced back, and charged the moment his legs touched the ground. He could feel her fist planted itself in his stomach, and his entire being seemed to paralyze from that single stroke. He gritted his teeth, threw a kick towards her face, which she dodged under, and swept his stand-leg from under him.

Soman landed hard on his back, staring at the ceiling, still unable to breathe due through the intense pain his being was in. he gasped like a fish on dry land, and Elisheva kneeled down next to him.

“Hold still, Soman,” she whispered gently, planting a finger on a certain spot on his chest. The pain lifted almost immediately. He gasped in three bursts of air, and sat up straight. The other three were with them by now.

“You are in excellent shape,” the woman told Soman. “You even attacked after that paralyzing stroke.”

“I sucked,” Soman grunted. “I was beaten.”

“By a Slayer. Don’t worry. I beat everybody in this base,” she replied, getting up. Soman did the same. Elisheva turned to Petras. “Are all your men in such shape, Petras?”

“We are,… Elisheva,” Petras said, correcting himself in time.

“What is a Slayer, Elisheva?” Soman asked.

“First, would you mind telling me your names? I was only told Colonel Petras’,” Elisheva said.

“I am Vitar,” Vitar answered.

“I am Guntar,” Guntar replied.

“And I already know Soman,” Elisheva said with a smile. “Now, let me show you around, and I’ll tell you all about the Slayer,” she finished, showing the man out of the room they were in through a second door.

“The Slayer is a being… a woman… selected by the Great Being at the beginning of humanity. She was giving mystical powers, enhanced healing, the ability to pick up and sue weapons and fighting styles, and enhanced senses, all for one purpose. The purpose of protection of humanity against the forces of darkness.”

“So the Slayer of five millennia ago wasn’t called such because she killed people, but demons?” Petras asked. “This makes sense… oddly enough.”

Vitar chuckled. “We have being such as the Phoenix, the Sea Dragon, the Thunderbird, and the Golem, which are basically nice animals that hold nothing against humanity. It doesn’t stretch the mind to think of beings that do wish to harm humanity.”

Elisheva listened, amused, happy that someone actually believe her story the first time she told it. All the other recruits require proof first, yet these men simply accepted facts from deducting it from the world at large.

“That still leaves a question, Elisheva,” Guntar said.

“Go ahead, that’s what I’m here for,” Elisheva answered.

“The Great Being created this woman… is it you? Have you been here since the dawn of humanity, fighting for our safety? Because… if you’re not…how did you become the Slayer?”

“Good question,” Elisheva answered. “No, the Slayer is mortal… all too mortal, I’m afraid. Every time a Slayer dies, a new Slayer is called by the Great Being, and infused with the power. The process is random… one woman of the world is called, and infused with the power of the Slayer. However, this means that information can’t be transferred form one Slayer to the next… every Slayer has to be trained by human teachers, instead of the previous Slayer, and thus that experience is lost,” Elisheva answered sadly.

“So, we started cheating. Every time a Slayer reaches thirty years of age, she is placed in a state of suspended animation. A second Slayer is thus called, and trained by the revived previous Slayer. After the training is complete, the previous Slayer kills herself.”

Petras and the others halted. “What?”

“We can not anger the Great Being. He gave us a protector… we are merely trying to help that protector along. As not to anger the Great Being, the time there are two Protectors should be minimized as much as possible. It is unwise to mess with the plan of the Great Being.”

“And you are…” Petras wanted to ask, but didn’t know how, so he just shut up.

“I’m 28 years of age, Petras. I have two years of life left,” she answered calmly. “Come, enough of this. I will first give you your new weaponry, your new equipment, and show you where to rest. Then we’ll start your training.”

She preceded the foursome through the black hall. “I was testing you the moment you entered,” she admitted, pressing a certain spot on the wall, causing a door to slide open. “Most wouldn’t be able to find the keys if their lives depended on it. If you look closely, you’ll see …”

“A slight discoloration,” Vitas said. “Undetectable, unless you really know where to look for.”

Elisheva chuckled. “You’re good,” she said. “Really, really good. Anyway, this is the armory. All of this stuff is off-limits for the time being… only when you’re an active hunter do you get your equipment. During training, you use what I give you. Right now, that’s these,” she said, extending four coiled-snake-like devices. She took one from the rack near her after the four had each taken one.

“They’re called Krach’nava. You press this spot,” she said, upon which the ‘snake’ uncoiled, extending upwards. “These are peace-devices. One bolt will induce unconsciousness in a human… painful, but no lasting effects. A second bolt will kill, and a third vaporize. Some of the things we come across require a dozen bolts to kill, so don’t get cocky,” Elisheva said with a chuckle.

“Cool,” Guntar said, clipping the device to his belt. “A high-tech sidearm.”

Elisheva chuckled. “I will explain the other weapons we have here. However, none of those will be yours yet…” Elisheva said, guiding them through the armory.

 

“..And finally, these are Hunter-armors,” Elisheva said, stopping at a spot where four chest plates hung on the wall. “These are yours, eventually. Every armor is grown specially for its bearer. These can absorb the blasts of a Krach’nava, as well as the blasts of higher-yield weaponry, they’ll absorb the kinetic impact of kinetic weaponry, and they’re proofed up to the temperature of magma, so you can walk through a Fire Demon’s breath without getting hurt. They’re also equipped with oxygen supplies for deep space missions, temperature regulators for the same missions, and an oxygen extractor for underwater missions.”

As one, the four men let their hands trail over the transparent-crystal suits. “They’ll extend over your entire body on a moment’s notice. They link directly to your sensory cortexes, enabling the suit to boost your senses, as well as give feedback directly into your brain. The suit comes complete with a visual camouflage device that makes you totally invisible to visual senses…only problem is that most demons have excellent smell, so stay downwind. They can ick up the scent of a human half a kilon away.”

The four men whistled. “Now I see why they put us in this division,” Petras said. “To hunt and destroy these things requires tremendous physical and mental resilience.”

“No kidding,” Elisheva replied. “We have access to the most advanced technology and magic in the Empire, yet the average time a person survives this duty is under a year.”

“Magic?” Vitar asked curiously. “Demons, and now magic?”

“This is getting a little unbelievable, Elisheva,” Petras answered. “You have to admit, we took the demons on faith, but magic… and then this advanced armor, these weapons… things are getting a little wild.”

Elisheva nodded, and pressed a key. The armors slid back into a wall, and an armored slab slid down in front of them, protecting the precious suits. “Come with me,” she answered. “I knew that something like this was bound to happen sometime.”

The four men shrugged, and followed the woman through the dark hallways. Now that they begun to know what to look for, the patches that were keys became more visible with every passing second. Finally, Elisheva stopped in front of a door, end opened it. The four men followed her in.

In the room were reinforced crystal cages, the transparent crystal walls actually run through with metal. The four men knew right there and then that what was in those cages was truly dangerous.

“Metal?” Petras barked out, utterly disgusted.

“Believe me, Colonel. Every bar of that tritanium is necessary. No crystal we know of is strong enough to hold these creatures contained,” Elisheva answered, sounded slightly less revolted about the use of metal.

At every cage the foursome passed, something jumped at the front panel, causing the men to jump at the first one, raise eyebrows at the second, and be used to it at the third cage. Each monster seemed worse than the previous ones. Elisheva, meanwhile, kept saying the names of these creatures, but Petras and his men weren’t paying attention.

“So demons exist,” Petras said with a slight tremor in his voice at seeing cracks appear in between some of the tritanium metal bars. “Can we see magic? Please?”

Elisheva chuckled. “My, you’re taking this well… the last bunch of recruits ended up in the psychologist’s office… after confessing their sins with a priest, and making a testament, that is.”

Petras looked at the last demon, which Elisheva had identified as a ‘steam demon’, less dangerous than the infamous fire demon, which everyone seemed to be petrified of. “I can believe why,” he commented. “We’re just very sturdy, psychologically, I guess.”

Elisheva chuckled again. “I think I’ll like you guys. I like sturdy. Come on, I’ll show you the library… that’s where we keep the truly ancient volumes, where we record down our experiences, and where we research on magic.”

“Ah. A library. You’re my kinda woman, Elisheva,” Vitar answered, rubbing his hands.

“Give the man a book, and he’s happy,” Guntar said with a chuckle.

“We all need a hobby, Guntar,” Vitar answered calmly. “I prefer to read. You like to blow stuff up.”

“Guilty as charged,” Guntar answered with a smile. “We all need a hobby.”

At the point, the five had reached the library, where Elisheva showed them inside. “And gentlemen? You wanted to see magic? Try this,” she said, spreading her arms. “From the powers of nature! I summon the freezing winds!” suddenly, the room dropped quite a lot of degrees in temperature.

“Simple climatic control,” Vitar answered.

Elisheva chuckled. “Is it possible to create fire in this environment?” Elisheva asked. “Without elaborate machinery, is it possible to create a fire in an environment such as this?”

“Too wet, and too cold,” Vitar replied. “A lighter won’t catch, and fire sticks will be blown out by the wind. By the way, aren’t you cold? It’s quite a bit below freezing.”

Elisheva chuckled. “I can take a punch, Vitar. And so can you, so it seems.”

The four men chuckled. “Touché,” Petras answered.

“Anyway, the reason I asked about the fire is this,” Elisheva said, holding her hands in front of her, palms upward. “Forces of nature, obey me! I summon the power of the mighty sun!”

The four men stared at her hands, which seemed to glow in an otherworldly amber light, after which a pinpoint of amber energy appeared, floating above her hands. The pinprick started to grow, and soon it had the size of a tennis ball, colored red as fire, and seemingly emitting just as much heat, as the air above it quivered.

“By the Great Being’s name!” Vitar cursed. “What do you need to learn that, and how do I do it?” he asked, rushing to Elisheva’s side. She chuckled.

“I release thee,” she whispered calmly, causing the fireball to die out, and the room’s temperature to return to normal. “I’m a Slayer, and as such, I already have an unnaturally high amount of magic. You probably don’t have as much, but these spells are simple, and shouldn’t be beyond your reach. Literature on the subject can be found in the computer… we don’t hold classes in it… with the mortality rate, and all,” Elisheva answered sadly. 

 

Elisheva stood up straight from her combat stance. “That’s the last of the 150 basic stances for the Slayer Arts,” she told the four men lined up in front of her.

“Cool,” Guntar answered, his brother Soman nodding next to him. The others merely dipped their heads in agreement.

“You try,” the Slayer said with a grin.

“One,” Petras said, getting into a stance.

“Two,” Vitar said, getting into a different stance.

“Three,” Guntar took his turn.

“Four,” Soman said, getting into a fourth stance.

“Five,” Petras retook, going from the first into another stance. One by one, the men went through the 150 basic positions, causing Elisheva to stare at the men as they did so.

“You memorized those 150 stances from seeing me do them once?” she asked after they had finished.

“Basically… yes,” Vitar answered with a chuckle.

“Well,” Elisheva said, smiling, “then you’ll have lots more fun. Those 150 stances are the basic stances. They flow into 450 medium forms, and over 850 finishing moves.”

“I see,” Petras answered. “The Slayer Arts are a collective name for 150 different techniques.”

“I would exactly call them ‘techniques’,” Elisheva answered. “They’re not extensive enough to be techniques, and they’re interchangeable among each other.”

“I think I understand,” Vitar answered. He got into stance number 45, feet spread slightly, body bent sideways, one arm bent slightly forward, the other extended to the back. “It seems logical that this stance flows like this,” he said, moving the back arm forward, throwing force behind it by switching which side of his body was facing forward, and throwing his legs into the fray.

Elisheva stared at him. As he moved through a flow-form the man was making up as he went. “And then this would be an ideal finishing move,” he concluded, jamming his knee up into the air, obviously intending to hit something painful, after which a stake plunged at the spot where a bent-over body’s heart would be.

“Tha…that…that’s impossible,” Elisheva grunted. “You just extracted an entire medium flow and a finishing move from its basic stance!”

Vitar smiled slightly. “We’re good, Elisheva,” he said lightly. The Slayer chuckled, and shook her head.

“I’ll show you the flows and the finishing moves. And then I want you guys to tell me what you think.”

Petras and the three men smiled wide. “Our pleasure,” Petras answered.

 

That evening, Elisheva dropped in her bed. Her body and mind felt dead to her. What an incredible day. We worked out a totally new form of movement for a Slayer and the advanced forces… and they did it within minutes of seeing the original forms. They will revolutionize the way we hunt vampires. If it weren’t for me being the Slayer, I’d be scared to death of them. With that though in her mind, and a smile on her lips, Elisheva went to sleep.

At the same time, in the room of the Elementals, Vitar entered with a stack of tablets in his arms.

“What’ve you got this time?” Petras asked good-naturedly. “More magic tricks?”

“Practical Earth magic. Practical Water magic. Practical Air magic, and Practical Fire magic,” Vitar read off the different tablets. “I thought I’d start with the four basic schools, and study those… after that, I’ll start with Death Magic, and see where that takes me.”

Soman jumped down from the bunk he had claimed as his own. “Can I see the one with Earth magic?” he asked.

Vitar raised his eyebrows, an d just handed the man the tablet in question. As he noticed the stared, Soman said, “What? I’m the Earth Element. Is there something wrong with wanting to know the magic abut my school?”

Guntar and Petras looked at each other, shrugged, and looked at Vitar. The man chuckled, and held out two tablets. “Fire and Air,” the man identified. The two others grabbed the tablets, and started reading.

 

Remember, a Fire demon can smell you half a kilon away, so stay downwind, and keep your cloaks active. He can hear you even further, so from this point on, all communication is telepathic. Does everyone understand the plan?

“Petras, got it, sir.”

“Vitar, Got it, sir.”

“Guntar, got it, sir.”

“Soman, got it, sir.”

Switch to telepathic communications, Elisheva said. Engage shrouds, and execute the primary attack plan.

Petras and the others blended into thin air, trusting their armors to keep their motions silent. A built-in wind gage showed them which way the wind was blowing, and the men took care to always have the wind up front, so the demon couldn’t smell them. It took them almost an hour to creep up to the demon without being noticed.

Petras reports team in position, Petras thought to the Elisheva, the neural link in the suit transferring his thoughts over the radio to the other suits, who would translate it back directly into audio signals for the ear, thus cutting out the need for speaking, microphones, and loud speakers… in other words, totally silent communication.

Elisheva is in position. Execute plan in three…two…one.

The four men saw Elisheva stand up on top of the hill they were crouched on. Well, since she was cloaked, they saw her on the displays in their suits, rather than actually saw her. Elisheva drew two Krach’nava weapon, activated them, and cut loose with a devastating barrage of energy from the two weapons. The demon howled, and turned towards where the energy was coming from.

It’s not helping! Elisheva shouted ‘telepathically’. The two weapons materialized out of thin air as she threw them away, and drew a twin plasma thrower. The heave two-handed weapon fired streaming bolts of superheated plasma at the creature.

The first bolt hit, and everyone thought that the Fire Demon would finally go down. It howled at the impact, yet started dodging the other bolts. With a bleeding chest wound, the demon roared as it charged towards the source of the painful attacks.

How do you kill these things? Vitar howled.

Took us fifty men and a decapitation before the last one would stay down! Elisheva screamed, dropping the plasma thrower, and grabbing her sword. It was clear now that energy weapons had no effects on a Fire Demon.

The demon, which had been a hundred meters away, had reached the invisible Slayer in under three seconds, its tremendous speed taking her and her companions totally by surprise. Elisheva dodged a decapitating slash by the beast’s talons, rolled to a side, and ran to put some distance between herself and the beast. Unfortunately, it’s keen senses had picked up her scent, and it started tracking her.

Petras howled audibly, distracting the beast for those vital tenths of a second Elisheva needed to dance further away. The colonel’s Fire Blade was at full readiness, and he was fully planning on burying the fire-blade in the demon’s back. The Fire Demon’s head looked up towards where the sound was coming from, and cut loose with its devastating fire breath weapon, blue jets of flame being barked out of the creature’s mouth.

Petras screamed as the suit heated up inside. It protected him from burns, but that didn’t mean that the suit was capable of keeping him cool… The suit’s inside temperature reached desert proportions, and he rolled away, barely managing to keep his hands on the burning hot hilt of the sword.

By now, the demon was on high alert, and it actually seemed to crouch, its claws fully extended, arms spread slightly, as if in some sort of combat-stance.

Now that he was out of the fire, Petras’ suit cooled him down to normal, and he took long, deep breaths of pure, clean, cool air.

You okay, Petras? Elisheva’s concerned voice rung in his helmet.

Yeah, he answered coolly. But I am beginning to dislike our new friend.

Elisheva actually managed to chuckle. I know.

How are we going to get him? Vitar asked. It’s faster than we are, it’s stronger, and more enduring. We outnumber it, but it seems more like the other way around. Elisheva, you’re the expert. What do we do? None of the plans we made worked.

It’s my first Fire Demon, Vitar, Elisheva answered. I’ve only been told about them, I never actually fought one. According to Goranna, my teacher, we need to cut off its head.

Easier said than done, Guntar answered, studying the beast, who, despite their lack of activity, seemed to know that the warriors were still around.

The Plasma thrower had some effect, Petras said. Maybe if we combined our forces…

Wouldn’t work, Petras. It barely scratched the surface.

How about a direct assault? Soman asked. All we did now was engage it one-on-one, or throw energy bolts at it. What if we went at it full front force? Elisheva and Vitar throw magic at it, while me, Guntar, and Petras go at it with our swords?

Stupid enough to work, Petras said. Sound off?

Agreed, Vitar said.

I’m in, Guntar stood by his brother.

Fine. It’s suicide, but right now, we need to take this bastard out, Elisheva said. Vitar, prepare to drop cloak upon engagement.

On your mark, sir, Vitar replied.

Petras, Guntar, and Soman drew their swords in total silence. Not making a sound, not even daring to breathe, the three warriors snuck up on the monster. They engaged, and at the same time, Elisheva and Vitar dropped the magic-hindering cloaking on their suits. Together, they threw blasts of ice at the monster.

The Fire Demon jumped over Guntar’s low stroke, rolled away in mid air from a slash by Petras, and lashed out with its tail towards Soman, breaking his attack short. The demon landed in a crouch on its hind feet, just in time to see the twin ice blasts race close. Feeling his skin tingle with the approach of cold, the Fire Demon jumped up, over the ice blasts, and reached the two casters in one second flat.

His talons ripped through the protective armor Elisheva wore, exposing her ribcage under her skin. Grunting, the Slayer went to one knee, and drew her sword. Having focused on a single target, the Demon saw movement out of the corner of his eyes just a flash too late. It started to dart out of the way, but not before Vitar’s Water-blade cut through its side.

Grunting, the Fire Demon looked up at Vitar, snarled, and charged. By now, the three invisible warriors had reached their magic-users, and were fully covering them  The Fire Demon never guessed that a warrior would be standing in front of the one that had cut him. When he felt a searing-hot weapon penetrate its chest, the demon looked stunned. It would never have guessed that there was a heat too great for him.

Petras dropped the cloak. “Die, Demon,” he snarled, withdrawing his blade. As soon as the razor-sharp weapon had cleared its chest, the demon sunk to its knees. Everyone expected it to roll over. Instead, it grunted, and looked up at Petras. The next moment, it jumped at him, snarling.

The demon never got halfway there. Guntar jumped on its back, driving his sword through the demon’s neck. Withdrawing sideways, the head came three-quarters loose from the neck. With a snarl, the warrior cut the remaining quarter, and the head came free.

“Good work, Guntar,” Petras said to the warrior, before looking at the Slayer, who had dropped to the ground completely, holding her chest. “Elisheva!” he shouted, rushing to her side, where Soman and Vitar were already kneeling next to the warrior. The crystal armor had sealed itself.

“How bad is it?” Petras asked, concerned.

“Three slashes,” Elisheva grunted through clenched teeth. “The armor’s stabilized me, but I need to get back to the Moon Base as soon as possible.”

“Can we call a transport?” Soman asked.

Vitar shook his head. “We need to get to the rendezvous site. Only from there can we transport through the cloaking fields.”

“Fine,” Petras said, picking up the Slayer’s body. “Let’s go. Full cloaks.”

The cloaks engaged, and by routine, they fell into ‘telepathic’ conversation. “I can walk, dammit!” Elisheva protested.

Sure you can, Petras grunted in return. You’ve got three deep lacerations in your chest, with possible unknown internal injuries. I’m not going to take the risk of letting you hurt yourself. I’ll carry you. It’s only 2 kilons.

Dammit, they all heard the Slayer grunt faintly, before her voice trailed off.

Elisheva? Petras asked. Elisheva!? Don’t go to sleep on me, damn you! Stay with us!

Dammit, Vitar snarled when no reply came. We need to hurry! Her suit indicated her heartbeat’s irregular, and her breath is too shallow for my liking!

Petras gave a nod, not thinking about the fact that they were fully cloaked. He started running at full pace, not caring about what kind of noise he made. The others simply followed, all feeling the burning energy deep inside of them. It had been with them since that first day, always there to fuel them when things got tough. It was that energy that had allowed them to kill the Fire Demon, and it was that energy that would now carry them to the rendezvous site in time.

“Petras to Moon Base. Emergency transport,” he snarled the moment they had reached the site. Their suits were still shimmering into existence before they were whisked away.

 

Elisheva opened her eyes slowly. “Where… what happened?” she asked instead as she recognized where she was.

“You were slashed by a Fire Demon, who infected you with its spores. When you got here, you were running a high fever, and your metabolism was going haywire. We had to grow two new kidneys and a new liver, as well as do cosmetic surgery to your left breast, Commander,” the doctor on duty told her.

“How long have I been here?” she asked the man. “How long was I out?”

“Forty-six hours,” the man said.

“TWO DAYS?” she snarled. “I’ve been out for two days?!”

“The Earth was well protected,” the doctor assured her. “Don’t worry.”

“Yeah, well, I do,” Elisheva grunted.

“You shouldn’t,” Petras said, entering the room. “Thanks, Doc.”

“No problem,” the doctor answered, throwing a concerned look at the woman in the bed. “It’s good to have you back, Commander. It was touchy as it was.”

Elisheva grunted, and the doctor left. Petras sat down in the chair closest to the bed, and took her hand. “It’s good to see you awake, Eli,” he said gently. “You gave all of us quite a scare.”

“Sorry,” she answered, blushing slightly at the contact, yet making no signs to removing her hand from his.

At that moment, Vitar came into the room, shortly followed by Guntar and Soman. Elisheva pulled her hand from Petras, trying her best to hide the fact that they had been touching.

“I should be getting back-“ she said, starting to get up, at which Petras pushed her gently back by the shoulders.

“We’ve been taking care of the Earth,” Petras said as Vitar, Guntar and Soman all found chairs or something to sit on, and sat down around her bed.

“It’s my duty…” Elisheva started, trying to get up from the bed.

“Right now, it’s your duty to get better,” Petras answered calmly. “Rest, Elisheva… we will take care of the planet until you get back.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you guys,” Elisheva said. “But it’s my duty to do that…I’m the Slayer.”

“You’ll be a dead Slayer if you don’t take rest,” Vitar said. “Now, we’ll take care of the planet and the demons.” He got up. “You take the rest you need, Elisheva, and know that the planet is safe.”

The other three got up as well. “We’ll come by every time we can,” Petras promised. “According to the Doc, you can get out of here by the end of the week… that’s three more days. That’s not so bad, is it?”

“Guess not…” Elisheva grunted.

“Certainly not if you take into account that he’s the one who’s been here every waking moment he wasn’t on duty,” Soman said, indicating Petras with his head.

Elisheva smiled, and did her best to the hide blush the others ‘ignored’.

“And you’ll finally catch up on the rest you so desperately need,” Guntar said. “And if he’s bothering you too much, just kick him out,” he added with a chuckle, also indicating Petras.

Elisheva just grunted something under her breath as the foursome said their goodbyes. The door hadn’t fully closed yet or the Slayer was back asleep, allowing her body the chance to regenerate… in the knowledge that the planet was safe, and that she would be well looked after.

 

“Looks like something beautiful is growing between those two,” Vitar muttered to Soman and Guntar, nodding his head in the direction of a couple. They were in the observation dome, a large transparent crystal dome on top of the base, that allowed people the possibility of looking out over the large, lifeless surface of the moon. Most people at the base went there regularly, to escape the confines of the base.

“They deserve it,” Guntar said calmly. “The Great Being knows that they’ve been in the worst of the fighting.”

“Yeah,” Soman and Vitar agreed, virtually at the same time, smiling fondly when Elisheva put her head on Petras’ shoulder, and his arm traveled around her shoulders.

“If there are two people who deserve some happiness, it’s them,” Vitar said, standing up from the bench the trio was sitting on. “Come on…”

The two others nodded, and left the observation dome. It appeared that the other people in the dome had gotten the same idea, because five minutes later, the Slayer and the Fire Elemental were the only ones left in the large and spacious dome overlooking the lunar landscape.

“I could stay like this forever,” Elisheva whispered.

“I know…so could I.” Petras replied, casting a look over the beautifully-deadly landscape of the moon. “For the first time since becoming an Elemental, I’m at peace.”

Elisheva chuckled next to him, her one hand rotating his face so it was looking at her. She kissed his lips. “I know. I’m at peace, too,” the Slayer whispered. Burying her head in his shoulder, he could feel her sob gently. “Finally…”

Knowing that her tears were the tears of release, he simply held her as she let go of the stress and pain the Slaying had caused her for all these years. He hadn’t been here for more than three months. Petras knew that his pain was nothing compared to the pain she must have inside of her.

“Let it all out, Beautiful… I’m here for you,” he whispered gently, holding her close, conveying a sense of protection no amount of magic or technology could rival.

The walls had cracked, but now they broke down completely. Elisheva twisted around, grabbed him a hug, and buried her face against his chest as she cried uncontrollably. He could faintly hear her whisper the names of people that had been close to her… people who had died while doing the dirtiest jobs. He simply held her, unable to do more than whispered meaningless words of support and protection.

Finally, her sobs subsided, and she slowly relaxed in his arms. “Are you okay?” Petras asked gently.

Elisheva sniffed as she nodded. “Yeah,” she sniffed. “I never knew how much it hurt… until I allowed myself to feel again,” she said, sniffing a couple of times. Shez took a handkerchief, and blew her nose.

“I understand,” Petras said gently, holding her…cradling her… in his arms. There was a part of him that wished he could simply encompass her, protect her from the demons that they had to hunt day after day, night after night.

“Thanks,” she whispered, looking up into his blue eyes.

“Love?” he asked, now not understanding.

“For being here,” she answered with a small smile. “For not making a big deal… for allowing me time to work things out.”

Petras smiled. “You’re welcome, Love,” he answered, hugging her tight. “Part of me wishes I could simply take over all your pain… protect you, save you from the demons and the nightmares we hunt, and that haunt us.”

Elisheva chuckled in his embrace. “You’ve got a very romantic soul, Love,” Elisheva accused. “Are you sure you’re suited for this work, Petri?”

“Just as sure as you are, my Eli,” Petras answered with a smile. “In fact, I am thinking about breaking a couple hundred regulations, and take you out to this nice restaurant I know overlooking the Northern Ice Flats.”

Elisheva chuckled. “I’ve got authorization to go down any time I please,” she whispered with a seductive smile. Petras chuckled, and hugged her close.

“Oh, Eli…my Eli.”

Elisheva hugged him back with all of her Slayer strength, knowing very well that she wouldn’t hurt him. “Yes. Your Eli. And My Petri.”

Petras chuckled. “That authorization of yours… does it extend to clothing shops? I’ll need a suit,” he asked.

Elisheva looked up with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Fancy,” she whispered seductively. “And you probably expect me to wear some evening gown, right?”

Now it was Petras’ turn to chuckle. “You can make the most rundown of rags look beautiful, Love.”

“You’re sweet. A terrible liar, but sweet,” Elisheva replied with a small laugh. “I think I still have a couple of things in my closet from those ‘occasions’ the Emperor throws from time to time.”

Petras smiled, and was about to reply when the dome suddenly became dark.

Twelve Newcomers and two Chaos Demons have been detected in sector 1-15. Primary Combat Group, report to War Room.

“Here we go,” Elisheva said, gently detaching herself. Petras stole on last kiss before he too, let go. The two people’s emotions hid themselves visibly, and by the time they were out of the room, they were the Slayer and the Fire Elemental once again, Elisheva and Petras having hidden beneath layer upon layer of shields.

Two minutes later, they ran into the War Room, ignoring the apologetic looks the other Elementals were throwing them. “What have we got?” Elisheva asked, running to the front next to the briefings officer.

Petras sat down on the front row, next to his fellow Elementals.

The Briefings Officer pressed a few keys, and the crystal screen lit up. “Sector one-fifteen was infected, ma’am. There are twelve Newcomers, raised thanks to the two Chaos Demons. They are making their way to a small village on the Island, inhabited by Original People.”

“Tactical situation?” Elisheva asked, her experience already cataloging the situation as ‘dangerous’.

“There are hills here and here, a crevice there, and an elevated plateau there,” the officer reported, the different location illuminated by green squares.

Elisheva nodded. “Elementals, with me. Thorgal, you and your group are backup. Let’s go, people!” she shouted, running from the room, the Elementals hot on her trail. Twenty people left the room in not so big a hurry.

“Ever since those Elementals came aboard, we’ve been out of a job,” Thorgal grunted to his second in command.

“But you have to admit, sir, death rates are down tremendously. Personally, I don’t mind being on second duty if it means staying alive.”

By now, the Slayer and the Elementals had reached the weapons room. Arming themselves with a double Plasma Thrower and two Krach’nava-guns, the five also took a couple of long wooden spikes with them.

“Damn Newcomers,” Petras grunted as his body armor grew into place. “I dislike things that don’t die when you run ‘em through with a sword.”

“I know what you mean, Petras,” Elisheva said. There wasn’t a hint of fondness in, her voice. In either of their voices. This was war. They were cold and professional.

One minute later, the five were perched on the elevated plateau, looking down at the Newcomer-Demons and the two Chaos demons that had raised them, through the special zoom-lens built into the suit.

Plasma Throwers, Elisheva whispered telepathically. Take out the Chaos Demons. Full automatic.

The four others nodded, and lifted their plasmatic weapons along with Elisheva. Guidance… lock, Elisheva said. The four others called in as well, their own computers having locked on to the target as well.

Fire, she ordered.

The five people pressed their triggers at the same time, and kept them pressed. The Chaos Demons never knew what hit them as their limbs were torn off, their bodies pierced by super-heated plasma, and finally, oblivion came as their heads were torn off.

Kill, Elisheva noted. Let’s get those Newcomers!

Still cloaked, the five people jumped down the edge of the plateau, their armors dampening the impact of a two hundred meter drop. Immediately, they raced towards the dozen Newcomer Demons, who had by now formed a circle, backs to each other, arms spread.

By the Great Being, Vitar whispered. They’re still human! My suit indicated they’re Newcomers, but they look HUMAN!

These were dead humans… raised by the Chaos Demons. It’s a fate worse than death, Elisheva noted with dry professionalism. She drew her Krach’nava pistol, and cut loose with a barrage of energy waves, causing the Newcomers to grunt out in pain, but not go unconscious like normal people would.

And then… then the change appeared. Their faces became ridged, their fangs grew, and an otherworldly amber glow flashed through their eyes. Spikes framed the faces, and the hands grew claws. The entire physical structure of the Newcomers changes as they put on muscle mass.

Holstering her Krach’nava, Elisheva drew two wooden spikes out of her belt. She was the first one there, and managed to spike two of the Newcomers through the heart. Although appearing ineffective, Elisheva knew from experience that the Krach’nava bolts had drained some of the physical strength of the Newcomers, an edge she really well could use. The Newcomers could match her Slayer speed and strength, and they vastly outnumbered her small force.

By now, the four others had reached the free-for-all, Elemental Swords drawn, and going for the decapitating stroke. Although not as easy as spiking a Newcomer, decapitation was something the Elementals felt more comfortable with. In one hand, they wielded their deadly weapons, while in the other they wielded their Krach’nava pistols with deadly accuracy, shooting a Newcomers every now and then, draining more of its strength and speed… not to mention keep him out of the fight for a few seconds.

Petras decapitated one demon, and returned to take the head of a demon that was just coming out of the Krach’nava blast. He shot a demon that attempted t o sneak up on Vitar’s back, the howl causing the other warrior to spin around and decapitate the sneaky Newcomer. At the same time, Petras heard a snarl from behind him, and saw a spike sticking out of the chest of a Newcomer demon, courtesy of Guntar, who had throw it. Shooting a grateful nod in the other warrior’s direction, Petras jumped the nearest demon, and went after him with a vengeance.

Two minutes later, the five warriors dropped the cloaks on their suits. “I find it freaky,” Guntar grunted. “Just turning to ashes after we kill them…”

“Takes them long enough, too,” Soman added in. “It takes almost a minute to decompose.”

“By the way, thanks for the save,” Vitar told Petras, who smiled and held up his hands.

“Hey, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Guntar’s throwing arm,” the man said with a smile.

“You’re welcome,” Guntar said with a chuckle, reading between the lines. Together, the five warriors walked back to the rendezvous site, to be transported back to the Base.

 

Fifteen Newcomers and two Fire Demons reported in sector 5-32! All teams, report to War Room immediately!

Petras started awake at the voice that boomed though the base. In his arms, Elisheva snapped awake as well.

“The first decent night’s sleep in weeks, dammit!” she cursed, jumped out of the bed.

Petras grunted something under his breath as well, and jumped out of the bed on the other side. Within minutes, the couple was dressed, and raced for the door. Before it opened, Petras stopped Elisheva, who looked annoyed at him.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Smiling, she kissed him. “Love you too. Now, let’s kick some demon ass, and get back to bed,” she said with a chuckle, before the door slid open. The moment they stepped out in the hallways, their emotions melted away into nothingness, their professionalism taking over. They managed quite a good time to the War Room, and weren’t even the last ones there. A spot had been reserved for Petras on the front row, next to his fellow Elementals. Elisheva stepped up the platform, and started going through the material. Sector 5-15 was in the Northern Regions… the Great Ice Flats. Elisheva grunted. I hate the Ice Flats.

“This is the situation,” the Briefings Officer started the moment the last of the warriors filtered into the room. “There are fifteen Newcomer Demons and Two Fire Demons involved in what appears to be a Ritual of Ascension. If it succeeds… the result will be devastating. Satellites picked up the signal barely ten minutes ago, but it seems the ritual is almost completed.”

“This is a code Black, people. Everyone gear up, and prepare for mass transport. According to the computer, we have ten minutes tops to stop this thing from happening. There’s no time for anything but a direct assault. Gentlemen… it is a good day to die.”

“And a better day to live,” the men answered in return. Everyone now knew how close things were going to be… Elisheva never used language like that. Most people knew that there was a big chance that they would return with less than half the people that left the room. All were ready, and prepared, to make that sacrifice. Thoughts of death hid themselves as the warriors geared up, mentally and emotionally steeling themselves against what they knew was to come.

Elisheva hated the Ice Flats,  even with the suits that kept them warm, and the anti-slip soles on the boots kept them from slipping. It was just the color… everywhere you looked, the region was white. Hellish white. Elisheva hated this region with her entire being. The even white made it impossible to achieve a full cloak, so the air ‘rippled’ where they moved, and their footprints would be a dead giveaway as well.

That way! Elisheva shouted telepathically, racing towards the location at the edge of the Ice Flats, where a little soil was still visible… although it was probably frozen solid. The demons had obviously been preparing for quite a while, since there was a cozy fire snapping in the center of the circle of Newcomer Demons. In front of the fire, the two Fire Demons were standing, face towards the skies, airs spread to the heavens, shouting in ancient dark languages.

Attack! Elisheva shouted, drawing two Krach’nava pistols, and firing at the group of Newcomers. Half the assault force followed their leader’s example, and started firing at the demons, who were attempting to break free of the painful energies.

The other half drew swords, spikes, and Krach’navas, and charged directly to finish the Newcomers off. The Fire Demons, too wrapped in what they were doing, didn’t pay any attention to their underlings. The Newcomers could take care of themselves. However, against an assault force of that magnitude, they weren’t more than a nuisance. After only one minute, the fifteen Newcomers were destroyed.

One of the Fire Demons stopped it chanting, and charged. As Elisheva had found out some time ago, the Krach’navas were useless against a Fire Demon. Men engaged the demon with spikes and swords. Petras and the other Elementals had been engaged at the other side of the assault force. It only took them three seconds to reach the Fire Demon, but by then it had already killed five good men, its talons ripping through crystal, flesh, bone, and heart tissue in a single slash. Screaming like the Devil himself, the four elemental charged the fire Demon, their Elemental Swords pulsing angrily under the cloaking field.

The Demon roared, grabbed Vitar, and smashed him into the ground. It lifted its paw to kill off the Elemental, at which Petras stabbed at its undefended side, causing the Demon to roar its ugly head to the side, and smash at him. Petras felt the claws skim him armor. The angle had been to his advantage, yet the impact was still enough to leave a bruise.

By now, the ranged forces had joined in the melee, their swords out as well, engaging the Fire Demon in close-quarters. Now, however, the economic principles came into play… at one point, adding forces actually extended the time necessary to complete an objective. The humans found themselves hindering each other as they attempted to swing their swords, or generally find a good spot to attempt to plant their swords.

The Fire Demon made use of the human’s tactical error, and ripped and slashed with its claws, practically assured of hitting something in its mad tornado of talons. Finally, it was Elisheva who got her sword into the demon’s chest, deep enough to hit its heart. However, hers was a normal crystal sword, not an elemental one, like Petras’ had been. The demon roared, yet didn’t fell down. Vitar and Petras flung themselves on the demon’s back, the Fire and Water Elemental Blades hitting the Demon’s neck side-by-side, and virtually at the same time.

Hissing and roaring, the Fire Demon attempted to throw them off, and almost succeeded before the Elemental drew their swords sideways, effectively decapitating the demon. It staggered around for half a second, its massive body no longer posing danger, before it fell to its knees, and toppled over.

“Too late, mortals,” the second Fire Demon said.

As one, everyone turned to it, to see how an amber glow had encompassed it, and how the body slowly changed. Frozen in place, thee valiant warriors had to choice but to watch the stunning transformation from 2 ½ meter-tall beast to 2 meter tall humanoid Demon, with pitch-black scaly skin, smoldering yellow eyes, and great claws on its hands.

“My name… is Erysichton, and I will be your undoing!” the demon hollered across the icy plains.

“Give it your best shot, demon,” Elisheva challenged, decloaking with sword drawn. The warriors followed her example.

Erysichton smiled. “I shall,” he said, raising his arms, and shouting something. The next moment, the ground trembled, before seemingly ripping open, spurting flows of lava across the lands. Ice sublimated, turning from rock-solid to vapor immediately. The warriors were dodging balls of lava falling from the skies, while attempting to keep a watchful eye out for Erysichton.

Taking advantage of the human’s confusion, Erysichton charged a couple of warriors who had ventured a little closer. Charging with both arms held at the height of his chest, he ran towards, and past them. Both warriors froze in their tracks, before slowly sinking to their knees when a small spurt of blood came out of their mouths. Their swords dropped, their arms clenching around their chests. The crystals cracked, before shattering. Only now did the extent of the damage become clear, as gaping holes became visible in both men’s chests. They fell sideways, life leaving their postures.

Erysichton didn’t stop with those two. Now having a taste for blood, he blew gouts of flame over the battlefield, if not killing then at least making things very uncomfortable for the human defenders. As the humans were now trying to dodge both the lava balls, the treacherous holes in the ground, AND the flame thrower that was Erysichton’s mouth, they were even further away from attacking then they were before.

Erysichton, meanwhile, had the time of his life, laughing at the panic-stricken human forces dancing like nutcases to avoid his traps.

Elisheva! We need to do something! Petras barked to the Slayer, who was dodging right next to him.

Damn right. It’s time we end this! Vitar, Guntar, Soman! Meet with me and Petras! She received three confirmations, and five seconds later, the group that had fought so many battles together for the last six months, was reunited.

So what do we do? Vitar asked.

Water Magic, cool down the lava! Earth Magic, close those faults! Air Magic, erect a shield that will protect our forces. Fire Magic will attempt to engage the Fire Demon. Again, she received confirmation by her four companions. Vitar turned to the skies, and chanted a verse that caused rain to start falling down from the skies, making steam rise, but cooling the magma while Soman worked his spell to close the open faults in the ground.

At the same time, Guntar worked his magic to create a barrier-dome over the fighters, to protect them against the objects falling from the sky. Petras and Elisheva ran towards the Ascended Fire Demon, shouting balls of flame at him while holding their swords at the ready. The demon laughed at them as he absorbed the balls of fiery energy, and sidestepped the clumsy sword-attacks.

“You are meaningless,” the demon howled. “Your weapons useless, your magic insignificant, and your tactics are pathetic.”

“I’ll show you pathetic!” Elisheva screamed, charging the Demon.

“Eli! No!” Petras screamed, running right after her, followed closely by the other Elementals. By now Elisheva had reached the Demon first, who simply slashed at her.

The scream was enough to freeze everyone in their tracks. Elisheva fell to the ground with a dull thud. Roaring with laughter, Erysichton lifted his foot, and stomped on the Slayer’s body, electing another scream. That was enough for the battered human forces, who now screamed and charged the Demon as one person.

The closest to him was Petras, who was backhanded away, after which the Demon threw three fire blasts to the other three on-storming Elementals. With a single motion of his hand, Erysichton broke the barrier Guntar had erected earlier, and unsealed the cracks in the ground Soman had stopped. Magma balls once again rained down on the hapless human forces, who, since they had been focused on the Demon, didn’t exactly pay attention to the sky. Maybe of them where squashed like bugs under the barrage of magma.

“That’s enough!” Petras screamed, standing where he had been thrown. He could feel the energy deep inside of his well up, burning in fury. His teeth were bared, and he charged the Demon once again, screaming like a madman, and surrounded in a deep orange-reddish glow. His sword seemed to radiate pure fire around its flamed edge.

The last dozen meters, Petras flew above the ground, his charge so ferocious the demon actually did a step back as he blocked the strike with his arm. Feeling rage well up inside of them as well, the other Elementals stood up from their positions, and looked at the carnage. Only 10 or so people were still alive… Elisheva had only now come from under the Demon’s foot, and wasn’t looking too good. And Petras was screaming like a madman, throwing vicious slashes at the fire Demon, who actually seemed to enjoy it.

All these good people, Vitar whispered. All dead because of this monster.

Guntar looked from the field of carnage to the fight between Petras and the Fire Demon. I really, really hate you now.

Soman carefully made his way to Elisheva. He found no her breathing only slightly, her heartbeat was almost not-existent. Vitar! Life Magic!

Vitar’s head snapped around at Soman’s yell, and he charged to the place where Elisheva had fallen. Heal her! Soman implored. Whatever you do… heal her!

Vitar closed his eyes. “From the Life that flows through our planet… from the energy that connects every living thing, I beg of thee… aid me,” Vitar whispered out loud.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Erysichton yelled, grabbing Petras in mid-swing, and throwing him on top of Vitar. The demon then jumped up at least ten meters into the sky, and landed right next to the Slayer’s body, his talons digging deep into her chest. So far gone was she that Elisheva didn’t even get the chance to let out a scream. Her body simply fell silent.

“NOO!!!” Petras screamed, along with the other Elementals, feeling their energy explode inside of them. It was Petras who charged first, froth around his mouth, howling like a mad dog, and the aura of blood-red energy radiating off him as he flew towards his target. He slashed with his sword, and as usual, Erysichton blocked it with his arm.

Only this time, the blade went right through. The Demon stared in bewilderment at the severed limb. “What the…”

Petras didn’t allow the monster to finish its sentence, and renewed his attack. The other three, swept up in the sight of Petras charging the monster, growled as well. Their own energies were close to erupting. When they saw the demon plant a low blow on Petras, that point was well cleared. Screaming, the three remaining Elementals went after the demon, all glowing in the aura of their own element. Vitar was surrounded by deep oceanic blues. Guntar was surrounded by an ethereal-transparent aura that almost gave him the appearance of a ghost. Soman was covered in deep browns. Together, the three Elements charged in defense of their fallen comrade.

Who soon joined in the flurry of sword strikes. The demon, having only one more hand, was unable to defend against an onslaught of this magnitude. Never would it have guessed that there were people out there more dangerous than the Slayer. Never would it have guessed such power existed… and then, it didn’t guess at all, as its head fell to the ground.

 

“The body must be destroyed. We can not run the risk of an evil sorcerer getting his hands on a Slayer’s interred body. I’m sorry,” the man on the screen said. “You will transfer the body, tomorrow at noon.”

“But Your Majesty,” Petras whispered, finding it very difficult to contain his emotions. “She was my wife… by the laws of-“

“YOU WILL NOT SPEAK TO ME OF LAW!” the man barked. “I created those laws, colonel. This is a matter of security. I’m sorry, but there won’t be a family grave, and your wife’s body will be destroyed.”

“Like a murderer, rapist, assassin, spy, or traitor?” Petras shouted, now no longer in control of himself. “Like the worst kinds of criminals, my wife won’t even have the honor of being buried?”

“It is too dangerous,” the man answered coldly. “And I suggest you hold you tongue, colonel. Before I have you thrown on the pyre with her.”

Do what you can’t leave, Petras’ thoughts snarled at the man. “Fine,” he grunted. “Tomorrow, noon.”

“National Prison,” the man said with a nod. “I knew you’d come to reason colonel. I understand your loss, but humanity must come first.”

“Yes,” Petras whispered with a broken voice. “Humanity must come first…”

The man broke the connection, and Petras collapsed immediately, burying his face in his hands, crying like a child. He had no idea how long he sat there, totally broken, unable to think, weeping like a broken child, when a hand was placed on his shoulder.

“She’s happy now,” Vitar whispered. “I know it’s no comfort, but she won’t be reincarnated… someone like her can only have reached the highest honor of being rejoined with the Great Being.”

Petras shook his head. “They…won’t even…bury her,” he sobbed. “Her body…is to be…destroyed.”

“What?” Vitar shouted, staring with open eyes at his friend. “They will burn her?”

“Sorcerers can have a chance to revive her body,” Petras whispered.

“We’ll see about that!” Vitar grunted, reaching for the communications panel.

“I tried, Vitar. I tried…” Petras’ voice trailed off.

“Grognar?”

“Call him. No luck.”

“Andorias? Hargos? Surely they can-“

“They can’t,” Petras whispered. “I tried.”

“The emperor,” Vitar grunted. “I’ll call the Emperor. If anyone can do something about this, it’s him!”

Petras shook his head. “Tried him, too.”

Vitar sunk back in the seat. “You’re kidding… they all want to burn her? Like the worst criminals?”

Petras just nodded, and buried his face once again, fresh tears welling up. Vitar could do nothing but sit there, and try and provide a comforting presence.

 

The next day, precisely at noon, the transport booth at the national prison lit up, materializing four men, carrying a stretcher, upon which Elisheva lay. As the four tried to step off the dais, they were halted.

“That’s far enough, colonel,” the chief guard said. “We will take it from here. Men, take that corpse to the incinerator.”

Too shocked for words, the Elementals saw two guards drag Elisheva off the stretcher, and dragged across the floor.

“Wait a minute!” Petras shouted, finally getting his voice back. “That’s my wife, and I demand to-”

“You must be real proud,” the chief guard chuckled. “Get them out of here.”

Immediately afterwards, the foursome was standing in the middle of Poseidopolis, the Atlantean Capital.

“They…They can’t do that,” Petras whispered, too shocked for words. “She…is…MY…WIFE!” he howled, causing some of the pedestrians to cast strange looks at them.

Soman and Guntar were looking ‘pissed’ to say the least, and Vitar, normally calm and collected, felt himself raging inside as well.

“She died protecting this SCUM, and they treat her like DIRT!” Petras howled. “I will NOT tolerate this kind of dishonor upon my wife’s soul!” the blood-red aura had returned, stronger than before. The other three Elementals, sharing the outrage at the dishonor of their friend’s body, were shining bright in their own colors.

Petras growled, and turned to his friends. His eyes were shining red. Blood red, just like the aura that was now waving off him. He could feel his power coming higher and higher, closer to the surface. He had always felt it as dark, and as such, he had always tried to fight it back… only now… now he wanted it to come to the surface. He was putting his entire being behind it.

The other three felt it as well, and they, too were pushing their energy up to the surface. Now the people on the square were starting to get away from the four warriors, standing in the exact center of the square, shining in bright red, blue, brown, and one who was glowing like a ghost. The Earth trembled.

“You will not disturb the balance of fire, earth, air, and water!” Petras shouted over the square. He didn’t know where those words came from. They were probably a gift from the Phoenix that had been infused in his body. “For the earth will shake, the waters shall rise, the air will grow black as coal, and the fires from the volcanoes will destroy your civilizations!”

At that point, the energy breached the surface, at exactly the same time in the four warriors. Petras howled as he threw himself into the sky, a burning bird’s body superimposing over his own. At least twenty meters long the bird was, with a wingspan of twice that. It screeched deafeningly, shattering crystal windows in nearby buildings.

Vitar’s body became engulfed in water that seemed to rise out of the very ground he stood on. At least one hundred meters long, the Water Dragon curled its tail as a stand, and erected himself to the height of 95 meters. The water-animal towered above the city.

Guntar also threw himself into the air, and his body grew to the size of Petras’, only it was an electric metallic black in color, and its eyes glowed white… hellish white, like lightning. It carried thunder in every snap of its wings, and screeched lighting from its beak.

Soman’s transformation was the least impressive in comparison to the others. He grew to three meters in height, his body putting on tremendous muscle mass and growing a thick gray in color.

For the first time since the Elementals’ awakening, the animals within them had taken over… with little more than a burning instinctive anger towards Atlantis to guide them, the four spread out. The Phoenix clapped its wings once, thunder rolling as its wings breached the sound barrier, lifting the creature high up into the air. A second clap, from the front to the back, launched the firebird at speeds above the speed of sound away from Poseidopolis, ignoring the scorched square the flames of his wings had made.

The Water Dragon screamed, and launched itself into the ocean, only half a kilometers away, with a single threw of its massively strong tail. It ignored the houses it had washed away in its dash for the ocean. Soon, it was out of sight as it, too, reached speeds above those of sound, under water… and thus creating massive waves that spread out from its body as it moved through the water.

The Thunderbird lifted into the sky very similar to the Phoenix, each clap of its wings spreading thunder and lighting to the ground below. Soon it had vanished over the edge of the horizon.

The Golem stared at the retreating others, and balled its fists. The Golem sunk into the ground, and not caring about the earthquakes it caused, it sped after the others through its natural element. Creating earthquakes while traveling over land, and seaquakes while under water, the Golem ignored the destruction of the places around it. Just like it ignored the massive tidal waves its seaquakes created.

 

“You Majesty! They are sweeping this way!” Andorias shouted to the Emperor. “We must evacuate! The animals have cut loose! We had hoped it would never happen, yet it did. There is nothing we can do but execute the contingency plans!”

“I am not leaving, Andorias,” the Emperor replied sadly. “I have created this situation… and I die by it.”

“What?” Andorias asked, covering his head with his arms as another earthquake shook the Imperial Palace, and pieces of crystal fell to the ground.

“I chose not to heed to a man’s pain,” the Emperor said. “I ordered the destruction of the body of someone who should have been buried with the Imperial Order pinned to her chest.”

“Elisheva,” Andorias whispered, his voice drowned by the rumble of yet another earthquake. “The Earthquakes are increasing, Your Majesty! We must evacuate through the Gate of the Heavens, to Tollen!”

“I am not leaving!” The Emperor barked. “Leave! Now! Guards!”

Andorias looked at the exit, to his Emperor, and back to the exit. Finally choosing one option over another, he ran for the exit. And kept running. The Thunderbird swept over, it’s lighting hitting the Atlantean Unias-power grid. Designed to withstand lighting impacts, the grid was still holding… for now. It was never designed to withstand this kind of barrage.

Finally, Andorias reached the site he was aiming for: a large, underground building with a separate power generator, which was independent from nature’s sources.

“Emergency protocols have been enabled,” the technician notified Andorias. “The Gate has dialed Tollen, and we are holding steady.”

Andorias ran to a group of his fellow scientists, Hargos among them.

“What have we done, Andorias?” Hargos asked, looking pale as a ghost.

“We dabbed in forces we shouldn’t have,” Andorias whispered in return. The group was advancing steadily towards a large, black, ring-like object with strange markings on it. The center of the ring held a bluish haze, where people were walking through.

“We’re going to the evacuation site,” Andorias whispered. “Will we ever be able to rebuild our society?”

“I don’t know,” Hargos replied honestly. “I think the Great Being left us the moment we meddled in Its creation.”

“I never saw you as a religious man,” Andorias said, right before reaching the ring.

“I am now,” Hargos answered calmly as the duo emerged from the other side, freezing cold. The ‘Tollen’ planet, as they had called it, was rich in nature, yet didn’t have any sentient life on it.

“Let’s hope we can build something for ourselves here,” Andorias whispered.

 

The High Sorcerer had no other choices left. He had been told what to do if this were to happen. “I have no other choice,” he whispered. “May the Great Being forgive me.”

He stepped back from the railing of his house, and stepped into an octagon he had prepared earlier. The white borders flashed red as he cleared into the center.

“From the Forces of Nature to the Forces of Man! I call upon thee! By the Powers of the Great Being and the Powers of the Earth! Hear me!”

Outside, the intensity of the disturbances picked up now that the high Sorcerer’s magic mixed with the Elemental forces of the beat-forms.

“By Frolorn, the Necromancer! By the teachings of Krnill, the Life Sorceress! By the Strength of Master Narul, the Great Wizard who first unleashed magic! I call upon thee! Aid me in this hour of destruction that is upon us!”

The disturbances outside reached a new height, and the High Sorcerer could feel his entire house shake on it foundations. He prayed that the walls would hold. The room was now dark as the night, the walls giving off a dull red glow, and amber spheres of power rotated around the Sorcerer’s body. He could feel his power culminating. Now was the time.

“Banish the man known as Petras, the Fire Elemental fused with the Phoenix!”

“Banish the man known as Vitar, the Water Elemental fused with the Water Dragon!”

“Banish the man known as Guntar, the Air Elemental, fused with the Thunderbird!”

“Banish the man known as Soman, the Earth Elemental, fused with the Golem!” the Sorcerer howled. He could feel the spheres of amber energy collide with his body, draining his magic and his life forces faster than he had ever believed possible.

“Banish them into the Greta Void! Never let them rejoin with the Great being! Never let them be reborn!” the Sorcerer choked out with his dying breath. “Slay them with all thine might, and cast their souls into the Void…” the Sorcerer plummeted to the ground, the last of his energy gone.

Immediately after that, the skies outside the house darkened, and one terrible thunderclap later… the disturbances stopped.

What little remained of the Atlantean population was devastated. The Elemental attacks had caused a shift in the Earth’s axis, and now the Great Ice Flats were melting, flooding their once island home… which had now shifted to the South Pole. The people knew the days of their empire were numbered, so they abandoned all hope of resurrecting their society.

What little people remained set out in small vessels, either sea-faring or air-faring, and spread out across the world… to teach the undeveloped people of the world about science.

And the Elementals? They were banished, never to return to either the Great Being, or to the world, held in the Great Void by the spell of the High Sorcerer. And that spell held fast for twelve thousand years… until the time it dwindled, and the Four Elementals were reborn into the world.

 

The year is 1,000 AD by our modern reckoning, and the world had changed once again. Only a few traces of the glorious Atlantean civilization still exist, yet none of the humans who live in this day and age know what those signs are, what they mean, or how to use them properly. So, the last vestiges of the Atlantean civilization and knowledge lay forgotten in the gray streams of time… until now.

Friedrich looked up from the stream where he had washed the grime of two weeks travel off his face and hands. Throwing his shoulder-long blonde hair back, and grabbing the lute that rested against a nearby tree, he stood up, facing the direction of the small town. He tied the lute to his back, and checked the pencils that were tucked into the deerskin belt he used to tie his rough leather clothing together.

He stepped into a marching song, and walked to the edge of the forest he was in and soon emerged into the full sunlight, facing the small village he had backpedaled for not long ago. After all, he had been on the road for a couple of weeks now, without meeting a fellow human being, and it had left its trails on his complexion.

Perched on the foot of a small hill that sported a large castle, the village didn’t seem all that extraordinary, yet for Friedrich it meant a decent meal, a roof over his head, and something else besides damp ground to sleep on. Who knew, he might be lucky and the lord of the castle might grant him shelter for a while. Now that he thought about it, that was something that might happen. After all, a bard was highly respected, and about the only source of news. More than often, a castle lord granted shelter to a traveling bard for no other reason but to hear him out on the politics in nearby areas.

As he walked into the village, Friedrich smiled and nodded in the direction of the townspeople who came flocking to the newcomer. In these villages, news spread like wildfire, and within ten minutes, Friedrich had been guided to the small square in front of the local church, had met the priest, and was plucking his lute while singing a sing about a brave night who faced the fire-breathing dragon. People liked the song, and Friedrich knew it. Wherever he came, he had success with it, and Friedrich found it great to open with.

As the song progressed, more and more people gathered, and Friedrich set in a second ballad the moment the first had ended. Smiling as he sang, Friedrich felt happy once more. He had always liked the way he lived, singing, making music, entertaining people,… .

As Friedrich ended his second ballad, he looked around the townsfolk that had gathered. “By your bidding, good people, I will now take requests,” Friedrich said musically, his agile fingers manipulating some of the strings of his lute. It was a standard practice… as a traveling news forum, he now gave the people he opportunity to ask for news about regions they held special interests in.

“How is Freising?” one the onlookers asked. Friedrich’s thoughts immediately organized themselves. Freising was the capital of Bavaria. He had been these two months ago, and everything was fine, then. The strings on his lute seemed to play on their own accord as Friedrich put his thoughts into song.

For the next few minutes, he sang how there was plenty of food, the weather was fair, the lack of major diseases, and finally, he ended with the exploits of the Duke of Bavaria, which had the people in chuckles by the time he finished. He was acutely aware that someone on horseback had been listening for the last half of his explanation. When he had finished, the nobleman dismounted, and came towards him, the townsfolk hushing away from him as he passed.

Friedrich respectfully got up. “How may I serve you, Lord?” he asked with just the right amount of respect in his voice.

“You’re invited for the grand banquet tonight, Bard,” the man said. “So are the townsfolk. The Lord wants you.”

The people around Friedrich cheered at the good news. A Lord’s banquet usually meant foodstuffs they didn’t get normally, things such as meat. Friedrich smiled inwardly. Looks like I’ll get at least one good meal, he thought to himself. “Then I will accompany you,” Friedrich spoke to the nobleman respectfully. The man dipped his head, and disappeared on his horse.

“I will see you all tonight!” Friedrich yelled to the townspeople, electing a new round of cheers from the poor peasants. Tying the lute to his back, Friedrich walked to the front gate of the castle, singing a merry little tune, the children of the village darted around him as he sang… but only to within a certain radius of the castle. The imposing walls seemed to drive a sort of fear into the children’s hearts, and they left him to continue the last stretch by himself. Friedrich didn’t let it concern him. He had met plenty of lords who brutalized their people, and Friedrich had yet to meet one who dared harm him.

After all, a bard was rumored to have magical powers, and no lord dared defy the magical powers of someone such as him. Friedrich chuckled to himself. He did nothing to dispute the rumor… in fact; it had saved his hide on quite a few occasions. His sharp mind and even sharper tongue did wonders in combination to superstitious lords and a myth of magic.

That evening, Friedrich sat next to the lord of the region at the head of a sumptuous banquet. Friedrich’s eyes glittered, and his entire posture radiated pleasure as he bit deep into a lavishly prepared haunch of venison, causing sauce to leak down his fingers and his beard. For the first time in a long time, Friedrich’s stomach would be filled. The table he was at was shaped like a large U, with himself, the lord, his two sons and his daughter at the head. Friedrich was seated in a position of honor, at the right side of the lord, with the lord’s two sons on Friedrich’s right.

He heard the lord burp loudly next to him, causing the present nobility to erupt in laughter. Friedrich laughed with them. “Good one, My Lord,” Friedrich complimented, taking a drink from the goblet of wine that sat next to his dinner plate.

“You seem to pack it away not bad yourself,” the lord returned, laughing as he hit Friedrich on the back.

“It’s been a long time since I have had the pleasure of joining such a feast,” Friedrich said as he scooped some hare onto his plate. The Lord laughed loudly at the compliment. The rest of the evening was spent in laughter, squabble, food, and drink. As good custom, two nobles decided that the feast was an ideal place to fight out their differences. The other guests didn’t let the fighting get them down, and they continued to eat and feast while the dup fought it out in the middle of the U-shaped tables.

Dawn was peeking over the mountains by the time the feast finally broke up, and Friedrich could hit the hay. He was housed inside of the main castle, in a room that was sparse in decoration, yet held all the necessary comforts one could want, including a very comfortable hay mattress on the wooden bed, and a horse-hair blanket to cover oneself with.

Friedrich slept like a brick for a couple of hours, his body taking the time to regenerate depleted reserves. When Friedrich’s mind cape up for air, he started dreaming.

Friedrich looked around the new place he found himself in. The building were tall… taller than any castle he had ever seen before. Looking around with open mouth, he gazed at the houses that were more lavish than any King’s Palace the bard had ever seen. The walls, rather than being made of stacked stone, were clear and level, as if built from sheer metal. Friedrich had never seen such level of smithing before.

Friedrich halted when he came face-to-face with a mountain which loomed over the city. From the peak, a beam of the purest white light he had ever seen flashed down into the city, sparkling as it did so. To Friedrich, the spectacle inspired sheer terror. He fell backwards, and he crawled backwards, away from the mountain and the power of the light that Friedrich feared would strike him down at any time.

Slowly, when he saw no sign that the mountain would smite him, Friedrich wrestled himself to his feet, turned, and ran like the wind. After only a few steps, he noted that somehow, he felt very free… as if he clothes no longer constricted him. Friedrich dodged into an alley that ran perpendicular to the main street he had been on, and rested his back against a large, metal building.

Friedrich felt a shudder run through him. This isn’t metal, his mind knew.

“Crystal…” Friedrich whispered. Immediately afterwards, he felt confused. “What does that mean?” he asked out loud. Then, he remember the strange sensation of feeling free as he ran. Looking down, Friedrich found himself dressed in clothing he had never seen before. A pleasant green in color, the clothing seemed molded to his contours, and consisted out of a bodysuit and a pair of pants.

Taken a shaky breath, Friedrich steeled himself, pushed himself away from the … crystal… building, and walked back to the main street. Gulping, he turned to his left, to stare at the mountain. Its presence was still as awe and fear-inspiring as it had been earlier, and Friedrich felt sheer terror strike into his heart. Sweat pearled on his face, and he remained frozen to the floor in sheer terror, eyes transfixed at the mountain.

He nearly shed his skin as a gentle hand was placed on his shoulder. He snapped around. By the Lord, she is beautiful, Friedrich’s mind whispered at the sight of a stunning brunette who smiled at him. She asked him a question in a language he had never heard before.

“Excuse me, My Lady, but I am afraid I do not understand,” Friedrich replied honestly, seeing her face take on a strange look. “Perhaps you know my language? German?”

The beauty looked sad at him. She opened her mouth, as if to say something, before she suddenly snapped around, and a sound of sheer terror left her throat. Inside of his, Friedrich felt an energy bubble. The same energy that had given him strength before… it had kept him calm, it had giving him strength, and it had given him speed, whenever he needed it. Now he felt the energy come, and bubble to the surface. He jumped next to the beauty, determined to protect her. After all, she was only a woman. Part of being a man is protect the women.

He saw nothing behind her, yet the beauty still had her hands frozen in front of her mouth, her eyes were wide in terror, and the shriek that came from her vocal cords told Friedrich that something definitely wasn’t right. Looking to his side to ask something, Friedrich’s eyes went wide and he stumbled back, appalled.

The beauty’s skin seemed to flake as if caught in a fire, and she stared at him with such an infinite sadness that it pierced Friedrich’s soul. She sunk to her knees, a cry of pain leaving her no-longer perfect lips. The beauty’s form soon turned to ashes, caught and swept away by the wind.

 

With a cry, Friedrich started right awake in his bed. “Not again,” he grunted quietly. He thanked God for the fact that castle walls were thick, and the doors were massive oak. Cries often went unheard. Slowly, his mind thought back to the nightmare. I hate that dream, his mind sighed. Oh, God, how I hate that dream… It’s been spooking me for a week now. Why, Lord? What is the meaning of the dream? Is there something I must see? Something I must find?

Like every morning for the last week, Friedrich’s hands folded in prayer. Dear Lord, please help me understand my dreams, he prayed. What is it that I must find, what is it that I must go to? As every time, no answer came, yet Friedrich felt strangely relieved. He buried the memory of the dream, and dressed himself. Today, he would entertain the lord and his guests on tales and myths, and he couldn’t allow himself to be distracted.

 

In the late afternoon, Friedrich was at the town square, perched up against a holy statue, fingers manipulating the lute. Heavenly sounds drifted over the open space, where the town’s children had gathered, sitting down on the dirty floor, listening with held breaths to the stories the bard sang to them.

“And thus brave sir Lancelot’s Mighty Spear slew the Dragon of Forever,” the man finished his latest tale. The children cheered and clapped as Friedrich returned the instrument to his back.

“More! More!” they demanded as the bar graced them with a patient smile as he waded through the couple dozen excited children, raging in ages from 4 to 12.

“Perhaps after this poor bard has drunk something,” Friedrich told them gently as he drifted toward the sole tavern the village had. Just as he reached the nearest house, a shadow seemed to detach from the small building.

“Perhaps the bard would continue to grace our ears if he accepted this drink,” a lovely fluid voice intoned melodically as the figure stepped into the sunlight. Friedrich accepted the earthen jug with a graceful bow.

“As the Lady commands,” he replied, recognizing the daughter of the local overlord. He set the jug to his lips, and let the rough beer slide down his throat. “Ahh, the lady really does spoil her guests,” he said after he had drunk heartily from the strong brew.

Taking his lute, and amidst the chorus of enthusiastic screams from the children, Friedrich asked, “And what would the Lady like to hear? The ballad of Sir Rohan, who hunted the seven magic crystals around the world? Or perhaps she would be more interested in the tale of the brave sir Robin, who went in search of the magic potion to save the life of his love?”

“Perhaps the bard would like to accompany this lady, and tell her something of his life?” she invited, sweeping her arm to the edges of the village, to the area known as the common grounds: an area usually too rough to be farmed, and where the Lord allowed fishing and hunting.

“But my life has not been interesting, my dear lady,” Friedrich answered, walking alongside her anyway, not really hearing the disappointed grunts of the children, who still recognized the authority of the local nobility when they saw it.

“I find that hard to believe,” the young woman replied honestly. “Surely the bard has seen lots of sights on his many travels on which he can entertain.”

Friedrich chuckled. “I merely tell the tales of others,” he answered with a friendly smile. “This bard really has not lead an interesting life. And if it pleases the lady, please call me Friedrich.”

“Only if you’ll call me Catarina,” the woman answered calmly, smiling a secret smile of herself. Friedrich chuckled.

“Very well, Catarina.”

“Then, Friedrich… tell me of your life,” she answered with a gentle smile as they reached the river deep in the common grounds’ forest.

Friedrich gazed at the trees. “I was born twenty-nine summers ago, in the month of the hay (Author’s note: present day August), to a family of farmers. I was the fourth in a family of twelve… through a miracle God’s, we all lived.”

Catarina startled slightly. To raise twelve children…

“We didn’t have much, but we were happy, strong in the faith and in love for each other, and I surely would have been a farmer myself, had it not been for that one thing that changes life.”

Catarina merely waited for him to continue, as he kept gazing up to the trees from the spot next to the river where they now sat. “A traveling bard came to the village. I became entranced… I listened to his stories for hours on end, day after day… and by the end of his stay, I server more than once as background for his storytelling, singing the more-known songs along with him, or serving as second person, filling in background, casting a supporting voice when needed. I so wanted to go with him… so much…” Friedrich sighed at this point, unconsciously reaching for his lute, and plucking a couple of sad notes from the instrument.

“However… my parents had no money to offer the bard to take me as his apprentice. I knew the fact, and never once dared approach him for more than he was willing to give me. I was sure that he would leave one day, never to return.” Friedrich closed his eyes.

“That day came sooner than I wanted, and I stood there, seven years, watching him wave goodbye. But, strangely enough, he turned to me. To my surprise, he asked me if I wanted to go with him. I so wanted to go, and the farewell to my family as hard, but that one single offer I would never let go… I became the apprentice of the traveling bard. And when my master died, I inherited his entire world: the Lute, and the stories.”

He turned to her, face strangely even for the story he had just told. “Is this what you wanted to hear?” he asked.

She nodded, once. “If it is indeed the story of your life, then yes, it is what I wanted to hear,” she answered calmly. “However, I am aware that a man as quick of the tongue as you are could have spun any tale he wanted to confuse the mind of a simple country girl.”

Friedrich chuckled; remained silent.

“But surely, there must be more. After all, a bard has magical powers gathered on his voyages, for no mere mortal man can travel to the great beyonds to gather the sights of dragon-slayer Lancelot and his Mighty Spear.”

Friedrich chuckled, feeling oddly at ease with this girl. She reminded him of someone… if only he knew who. Friedrich blinked, a strange face flashing before his mind’s eye. The girl from my dreams… He shook his head, clearing the thought from his mind.

“Catarina, when were you born?” he asked, turning to her with an oddly intense gaze, startling the noble girl.

“Si…sixteen years ago, in the month of the hazelnuts,” she whispered. (a/n: October)

Friedrich smiled, relaxing her slightly as he thought about how fitting it was… her hair was colored just like the hazelnuts, and it seemed a quirk of nature that this girl would inherit the same robust color as the nut of the hazel.

“Catarina, allow me to explain the secret behind all magic,” Friedrich said, turning to her once more, extending his hand, which she took with only a little fear in her eyes. “this,” he said, squeezing her hand gently, “is faster than this,” he finished, reaching for his eyes. “The hand can fool the eye into believing anything.”

 

In a dark room with roughly hewn stone walls illuminated with flickering torches stood a man, watching a small circular pool of water. His figure was hidden under dark cloaks, revealing only a gray beard and flaming white eyes as he stared into the rippling surface, displaying images of just around the corner… or half a planet away.

Still as stone stood the man, fingers closed strongly around a 2-meter tall wooden staff sporting the head of a dragon carved into the large top end. Still he stood as he watched the scenery unfold in the sharp-edged pool. The mouth stood grim.

It has happened… they have returned. May the Great Being show mercy on all of us, and let them die naturally. May they never reawaken lest the world fall even further. It took thirteen millennia to recover just this much… another fall may wipe us all from the face of the planet.

The dark figure sighed.

So much was lost… technology… wisdom… even the exact location of the Ancient Cities was lost. No-one knows where the Ancient Continent was even located.

Blinking his flaming white-glowing eyes, the figure continued to hold his silent vigil over the pool, scenery flashing as the water surface shifted from one scene to another. Finally, after long hours, the ancient figure dragged himself up the stone stairs, away from the dark room with the dancing ghostly shadows.

 

“You really shouldn’t display the magic so much, Catarina,” Friedrich said as the duo walked along the forest path, the same path they had walked for the last three weeks. “It scares those not initiated… and fear is dangerous.”

“Come on, Friedrich! It’s all in good fun! Besides, I want to keep in practice… it will be all I have left after you move on,” the girl finished with a sad note. “I really wish you could stay.”

“As do I, Catarina… but you’re too old for me to take as apprentice. Besides, your father wouldn’t agree to that even if you were the right age,” the bard replied, sadness slipping into his melodically-intoned voice as he talked.

“There’s another way for you to stay,” the girl finally said after they had walked for five more minutes in silence.

Friedrich halted, staring sadly at the girl that had been an almost constant companion for his stay. I’ve already stayed too long, he realized sadly. “Catarina… I’m a poor bard. I hold no titles, lands, or money. I do not have a place to call home, and I never know when my next good meal may be. I sleep under the stars more often than I have a bed. Your father would never agree to a marriage… I’m a poor bard, while you are a noble’s daughter. You will probably marry a man of standing.”

“I don’t care about standing!” the girl shouted. “I care about you. I want to stay with you, Friedrich! Hear your stories, learn what you know, see the sights you see, meet new people!”

Friedrich swallowed as he stared into her deep eyes. I really stayed too long… his mind whispered as he slowly drew her in for a hug, not really caring about the fact that he was touching a woman he wasn’t affiliated with. He couldn’t care less about common decency.

For long minutes that flashed by in second, the couple stood there, drawing comfort from each other, his strong arms around her frail body, her feeble hands and arms locked around the rough clothing he had sewn from animal hides.

Finally, they drew apart, and neither spoke as they continued their way, not realizing the gentle peace was about to be disturbed.

 

“They’re witches! Warlocks! We shouldn’t do this! We’ll all be turned into frogs!” one farmer whispered urgently to his six companions. Most of them were simple farmers, armed with pitch-forks and various other farming attributes that could be used as a weapon. Out of the group of seven was also a real soldier, drafted into the Lord’s armies, and dressed in a simple leather outfit that passed as armor, and a real sword. Or rather, a stick of iron with a wooden handle that could pass as a sword when used with enough force.

“Yeah!” a second farmer agreed. “The witch can conjure money! Perhaps we should leave her be, and she’ll make us rich!”

The ‘soldier’ cussed angrily “Just one coin per evening? That’ll make us rich for sure!”

“She can breathe fire!” a third farmer grunted. “She’ll burn us!”

“Then she won’t fear the fire of the stake!” the fourth farmer grunted, sticking with the solider on the side of his Lord. “Lord Hamas has told us to get them and burn them, and that’s what we’ll do!”

The ‘soldier’ nodded contentedly as the voices of dissent stopped. “Here they come,” he whispered as he saw the couple walk down the forest path, next to each other, not really paying attention to the outside world, sunken deep into their own world.

As they passed, the soldier gave the signal. “GO!”

Friedrich, used to being on the road, snapped out of the train of though, his hand digging for the dagger he always hid on his person. He drew it, and snapped around at the sound of a scream from behind him, where he had shoved Catarina. He was just in time to see her on the floor, bleeding from a wound to the head where a farmer had hit her with a stick of some kind.

This presented the bard’s weak side to the ‘soldier’, who drew his sword and hit Friedrich over the head with the flat end, knocking him out.

 

As Friedrich opened his eyes, he groaned as a splitting headache shot through his mind. The world swam back into vision, slowly gaining clarity and sharpness as his mind focused on the real instead of the metaphysical world of total darkness of being knocked unconscious.

“Wha…?” he grunted intelligently.

“Ah, warlock! Welcome back to your death!” the Lord spat in his face, appearing from somewhere. “You corrupted my daughter with your evil magics, and now you must both pay the price for it!” Friedrich tried to make sense of it all, his mind slowly gaining clarity as the Lord’s words sank in.

He focused past the overlord’s wide form, to where Catarina was tied down… or rather, tied upright… to a pole standing in the middle of a pile of wood. Only now did Friedrich look down, to see himself in a similar position. Shock crossed his face as he realized just how close to death he was. And Catarina with him.

Friedrich’s lips drew back as he cursed himself for ever teaching the girl the simple tricks of fooling the human eye. Of course he held no magical powers. No real ones. He held a sharp tongue and even sharper wit, but in this case, he was afraid that it wouldn’t be enough… in the Lord’s eyes he had corrupted his daughter, sworn her to a deal with the devil, no doubt, and now they would both die.

“Let her go!” Friedrich snarled, trying unsuccessfully to break the ropes tying his arms and legs to the stake.

“Where are your magical powers now, bard!?” the Lord shouted, a vein over his eyes twitching as he yelled, spit flying into Friedrich’s face as he cursed. “Why don’t you just free yourself, huh?”

“Let her go!” Friedrich snarled again, the surrounding villagers laughing as the bard tried unsuccessfully to get to the Lord.

Far away… or just nearby… the dark-hooded figure’s face stood grimmer than ever as he watched the pool of water. “Thirteen THOUSAND years, and humanity is still making the same mistakes!” the figure shouted as he lifted the staff into the air with his right hand. “I must summon the storm of thunder and stop this before we have another fall!” he shouted as the hood threw back, revealing long gray hair. He started shouting ancient mystical words, the room’s air thickening as energy swirled up around the ancient sorcerer.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, yet no-one paid attention as the two stakes were lit at the same time. Drenched in oil, the dry timber took flame as if made for it, and Friedrich could feel the searing heat penetrate his rough leather clothing. He felt the heat, the flames dancing over his body as his clothes took fire, yet there seemed to be very little pain and Friedrich ventured to open his tightly-screwed eyes.

But before he could… a scream penetrated marrow and bone and Friedrich forgot all about himself. His eyes focused on the other stake, facing him. Catarina.

Catarina…

Her clothes were burning.

Friedrich could see her beautiful skin burn black as the flames seared across her beautiful body, and energy welled up from the strange pool he had always held deep within the confines of his soul. The energy that had him from dying from hunger, the energy that had kept him warm during the long, cold and dark winters. The energy that had always been there, protecting him when needed.

That energy welled to the surface now, not for the protection of himself, but for the protection of someone he cared deeply about.

“CATARINA!” Friedrich’s voice was like thunder rolling over mountains, startling the villagers into taking steps away from him. Dark and powerful that voice sounded, as it resonated over the town square.

Images flashed through Friedrich’s mind.

A man with a sword, being taken down by him. Trekking across something that seemed like an omnipresent sheet of ice. The mystery woman with the brown hair who resembled Catarina so well. So vivid were the imaged that Friedrich could feel himself waking up with her in the same bed. His unseeing eyes remained focused on Catarina as the energy within him bubbled to the surface.

 

The dark figure growled as he shouted more words, trying to stop the flows of time themselves, or so it seemed at least as the man grew worried.

 

Far away, in a monastery, a lone monk bent over the tome he had been copying, pressing one hand to his head as images flashed across his mind. Him, fighting a man carrying a staff. Him, fighting creatures… demons… looking for guidance to a man with tremendous command presence and a woman with brown hair. The man groaned as the day-dream continued.

 

In yet another location, two knights, brothers, were pausing next to a stream, interrupting their hunt to water their horses and have a chance to talk. Suddenly, both doubled over as painful images from a long ago era flashed across their mind’s eyes. A building surrounding by darkness, warriors within, all companions, fighting brothers, there for a special purpose. Both brothers were filled with an overwhelming sense of purpose. When they saw the demons, instinctively, they wanted to fight, to vanquish these beasts that opposed humanity’s survival. Together with others, they fought, and fought well.

 

Friedrich snarled, that voice, his voice, gaining in strength and power. His bonds came undone with surprising ease as the energy released in deep red waves off his body, blood-red… no, redder than blood… eyes focusing forever on Catarina. Friedrich stepped through the flames of his stake, no even bothered by them as he crossed the distance to Catarina’s stake.

Two especially brave soldiers, or just two damn stupid ones, jumped him, each grabbing an arm, trying to keep him at bay. Without a second thought, Friedrich threw them off him, catapulting the men back for a dozen meters. Again, he stepped through burning flame, breaking Catarina’s bonds with his bare hands, jumping clear the moment he had her in his arms.

He beautiful skin was burned beyond recognition, but her bright eyes were still there. A visage of pain etched ever-presently on her features, she did look into his redder-than-blood eyes, still recognizing him for who he was.

“My…bard…” she whispered, voice unrecognizable through the screaming, the smoke, and the burning-hot air.

“My lady,” he whispered, sadly, as life left her eyes. Not breaking contact, he forced himself to keep looking into her dead eyes, unwilling for her to see anything but what she had been looking at. Finally, his hand closed her eyes, and he stood up from where he had put her on the ground.

He remained there, standing, staring down at the burned body of the girl he cared for. Which he loved. Yes… love… my love… and they killed her.

 

The ancient sorcerer watched with increasing worry as the surface of the water in the pool bubbled and steamed. No… by the Great being, no…

 

“You killed her,” Friedrich rumbled, looking up. His eyes seemed to deepen in color, if that were even possible. “SO DIE!! ALL OF YOU! DIE!”

Energy exploded from him as a giant bird seemed to be depicted behind his back the moment he elevated to the air. The next moment, the village, the castle, and all the residents… were no more.

 

The pool exploded as the water lifted in a solid column through the ceiling. White-faced, the sorcerer stared at the water, mouth aghast, body frozen in place. By Valerius the Wise…the fools did it… those fools broke the walls that took 13000 years to build with a single stroke of unimaginable stupidity!

The point of the sorcerer’s staff hit the ground. “No matter. I must contain the situation. And if I can’t… 1,500 years is a good age for a wizard.” The sorcerer’s form vanished.

 

Phoenix roared as it crossed a hill, flashing over the ground at an altitude that placed it barely above the tree-tips. Its mind had regressed to a bestial state, recognizing instinct alone, reacting on the sheer amount of pain its human form had felt, feeling the rage fuel its heart and its hate pound through its veins. It saw red. The entire world was colored in shades of red, and the one color that angered it the most was the color of blood. Blood and fire… assigned to those bi-pedal creatures that had killed its love.

Its mate.

A building appeared in Phoenix’s scopes. It saw through the thick stone walls, recognizing creatures… humans… inside. Humans…

Phoenix roared, taking altitude with a single flap of its mighty flaming wings, ignoring the thunder that rolled through the air as it breached into supersonic realms. The building neared at an exponential rate, and Phoenix screeched, feeling the thrill of the Fire burning within, begging for unleashing against those that had hurt it so. Its hurting heart took physical form as Phoenix unleashed the might of Fire against the building.

Tall, broad, and proud the castle had been, giving shelter to dozens. Thick its walls were, ready to defend those inside. But no human could ever have designed something to take the wrath of Phoenix. No human could have anticipated the unlimited power of the burning rage fueling the Phoenix’s anger.

A massive ball of flame descended from the heavens, and the last thought crossing witnesses’ minds was of the wrath of God as it struck. The ground shook and pounded as the ball expanded in size upon hitting solid ground, the blast eclipsing the sun’s in burning intensity, coloring the lighting skies in burning reds. Within seconds, it was all over, a massive burning crater was all that remained, the ground molten into glass.

Phoenix didn’t stay to watch the result of its anger unleashed, it merely went on, soaring right above the ground one more, searching for more targets. These creatures congregated together it knew from its human self, and Phoenix merely circled once to ensure it had gotten them all. Those creatures had hurt it. Now it would hurt those creatures.

Phoenix’s flaming-red eyes squinted as it felt a new burst of pain and anger sweep through its body and mind at the thought of the source of all anger. It screeched, a scream of pain and rage and anger. Its flames burned brighter, yellows permeating the reds that had been there before. As it soared right above the treetops, it left a path of burning trees in its wake, the heat from its mighty flaming body making the air quiver in passage.

It saw a new target. A single creature, standing on top of a hill, staring directly in its direction. Phoenix howled in anger, changing directions abruptly with one flap of its powerful flaming wings, uprooting trees as fresh thunder rolled.

 

The sorcerer stared in the direction of the huge mythical beast, his magic senses long-since blinded by the fury of the primal element unleashed upon the mortal world. The creature had noticed him, changing directions abruptly upon doing so. The sorcerer swallowed deeply upon the sight of the uprooted centuries-old oak trees. Trees that withstood the test of time were tossed from the ground like mere sticks under the rage of the Phoenix’s clapping wings.

The sorcerer tapped into his full magical reserves, and lifted one hand. He took a breath, and incanted, “Come, Wolf that engulfs the Descending Moon, your hatred manifesting here as destruction!” As he chanted, a huge bright-blue magical circle appeared on the hilltop around him, narrowing as he finished, imploding upon him finishing the spell. A bolt of blue energy settled in the pall of his hand, before blasting toward the on-storming Phoenix.

Magical energy of an ancient sorcerer clashed with a mythical beast that had existed since the dawns of time. Roaring, the Phoenix bore the strike, momentarily turning from yellow-red to bright blue, before returning to a less fiery state, and halting its progress as the creature tried to reassert the danger level of this creature.

The sorcerer swallowed, took a deep breath and lifted his hands. Throwing back his hood, the ancient face stared in the direction of the Phoenix, bright white-glowing eyes bearing down upon the ancient myth. “From the depths of water, air and earth I call upon the power…”

Phoenix roared, unleashing a ball of flame in the sorcerer’s direction. The man aborted his spell, lifted his hand in the direction of the ball of flame. “Ancient powers of protection, shield me,” he whispered, a semi-spherical shield appearing before him, focusing as much power as he could bring to bear in a single shield in the area that needed protection.

The Phoenix’s strike hit dead-on, as always, and the sorcerer could feel the singing heat tear at his robes, filling the air with the acrid smoke of burning cloth and the putrid smell of carbonizing plants surrounding his shield. The fire was deviated around him, shielding him from the full wrath of the blast, but unable to shield him fully from its effects. The sorcerer could feel his reserves dwindling, and sunk to one knee before the five-second blast was over.

By Valerius… if this is merely the awakening form, I don’t want to meet him when he regains full power! The sorcerer though as he forced himself to his legs, supporting by his wizard’s staff. I can not take any chances. It might kill me… and him… but it must be done.

The Phoenix seemed momentarily stunned it hadn’t been able to kill the sorcerer, and the man used the time to its fullest. Lifting the staff horizontally above his head, the figure closed his glowing eyes. “By the ancient powers that put love and friendship above hate and myself…”

Phoenix screeched, unleashing another five-second blast at the stubborn target. The sorcerer felt the ball approach, yet didn’t waver.

“… release this creature,” the sorcerer finished, a bright white glowing energy surrounding him as his reserves fell faster than anything the sorcerer had ever felt before. And in his 1500 years, the sorcerer had done and felt a lot of spells. The energy coagulated in a single beam, flashing toward the ball of flame… and the Phoenix that was behind it.

As the beam struck the blast, it seemed for one moment that the Phoenix’s rage was going to win after all, before it suddenly succumbed to the wizard’s ultimate spell, the beam flashing on to the flabbergasted creature of unimaginable might, striking it dead-on, right in the chest. The Phoenix roared and howled as it felt physical pain that was almost worse than the emotional pain that had brought it out in the first place.

The sorcerer panted as he leaned on his staff, watching the Phoenix struggle against the spell, the fight dead-even for the couple of dozen longest seconds in the sorcerer’s long life. Then, the Phoenix’s screeches lessened in impact, the giant flaming bird diminishing in size, before collapsing completely, turning into a human figure and falling from the sky like a brick.

The sorcerer panted, sinking to his knees while desperately trying to replenish some reserves. The first part of his mission was successful… now he needed to perform stage two, or this entire thing might start up all over again. Finally, after two tense, long minutes, the sorcerer had drawn some magical energy from the earth beneath him, and he climbed to his feet, setting off into the forest, trying to find one very much disturbed Bard.

 

Friedrich opened his eyes, moaning as a splitting headache assaulted his poor senses. “God, what hit me?” he moaned.

“I did,” a level voice answered him, much to his surprise. Friedrich rolled his head to the side, to look for the source of the voice. The caped and hooded figure next to his bed didn’t bide much good. He had lived long, enough and seen enough things to know that a person who wears wizard’s robes is either totally insane, or extremely powerful… and in both cases, he’s life-threateningly dangerous.

Friedrich groaned once more. “How did I get here, m’lord? Could you tell me what happened?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” the wizard answered his question with one of his own.

“I… I don’t know…” Friedrich whispered, racking his brain in the hope of finding a clue. As he did so, the headache pounding between his ears intensified, and he squinted his eyes closed against the pain, moaning as his hands pressed against his forehead s if trying to burrow deep enough to extract his hurting brain.

An image flashed. As fast as that first image came and went, a second followed… and a third… a fourth… a fifth. As a gigantic jigsaw puzzle, the entire story clicked into place, and Friedrich just laid in bed, staring at the ceiling as the story unfolded before his eyes. “Catarina…” he whispered.

The sorcerer’s eyes opened slightly, and his grip on his staff tightened. Friedrich’s face twisted. “Catarina!”

“I wouldn’t do that,” the wizard warned. “It took me a lot of power to stop you… neither of us has recuperated. If you unleash now, re-sealing you might kill the both of us!”

Friedrich by now had jumped out of bed, the headache totally disappeared as the hidden energy within him bubbled to the surface. “They burned her!” he screamed, grabbing the wizard by the robes and lifting the man off the ground with zero effort.

“And you killed the ones responsible,” the sorcerer replied coldly. “Now, CALM DOWN, and I will tell you what I know of your… unique… condition!”

Friedrich swallowed, rage burning on his face, before he snarled and dropped the man to his feet. He turned angrily and fell down on the bed. “Fine, then… tell me, how did I kill those bastards…” Friedrich’s voice trailed off as a second movie started playing, the intense emotions boiling through his veins as the actions of the Phoenix came back to him.

“Yes… that’s how,” the sorcerer said on an almost joking tone. “You are a person who should never have returned, Friedrich. But, at least you seem to have calmed down some.”

Friedrich remained staring at the rough ceiling of the unidentified bedroom he was in, shock etched on his face. “How… how…what? Dear God… I’m a murderer…”

“More than you know even, Friedrich,” the sorcerer said, sitting down on a nearby chair. “But… let me tell you what happened. Or better, what little we know of what happened.”

Friedrich turned to stare at the sorcerer, incomprehension battled along with revulsion for domination of his facial features.

“But first, let me introduce myself. My name is Merlin,” the sorcerer said, chuckling slightly as shock won over the previous two expressions.

“Merlin? The Merlin? Of Arthur?”

“Arthur was my finest student,” Merlin said, nodding his ancient head. “Unfortunately, he was never much for the magical arts… and all too mortal as a result of it.” His hood revealed just the tiniest of smiles, the kind of smiles that revealed secrets within secrets. “Welcome to Castle Tintagel, Friedrich.”

The bard swallowed, shaking his head. “I’m so doomed… I am beginning to see and hear things that aren’t real…”

“Oh, they’re very real, Friedrich. Of that I can assure you. But, let me tell my story before you make your final judgment. I know my skills are nowhere near yours, but please bear with this old man.”

Friedrich grunted, and nodded for Merlin to continue.

“Thirteen thousand years ago, there existed an empire the likes of which never since graced this planet. That empire was known as Atlantis, and sporting the greatest technology and culture this world had ever known,” Merlin began. “Unfortunately, they also were extremely arrogant. At the height of their society, they created four warriors… men they infused with the essences of the Spirits of Nature, Fire, Water, Earth, and Wind. Then, they trained these men, putting them through every test imaginable, or so the annals record. Then… these men vanish from history. No sign of them until six months later. They reappear, as the burial escort to a woman known as Elisheva… apparently, she was of royalty, judging from her many titles. She was apparently also one of the greatest warriors of Atlantis.

“Her name was Elisheva, Guardian of the Empire, Slayer of demons, and Protector of the Innocent. These four men were her burial escort… we don’t know what happened after that, only that the Emperor chose not to heed to a request made by the leader of these four men. The body of Elisheva was cremated, a huge dishonor in the Atlantean days, apparently… and the four men chose not to take kindly to that dishonor. Instigated by their leader, they unleashed the full power of their inner beasts… destroying Atlantis, and all traces of it off the face of the Earth.

“Very little was saved, very few of its residents survived… all we have are some fragmented records, some magical spells, and one odd remaining monument” Merlin stopped his tale, and looked at Friedrich. “You, Friedrich, are the one responsible. You were that man, known as Petras, who instigated the unleashing of your Elemental Squad’s full power against Atlantis!”

Friedrich stared at the wizard for up to a dozen seconds in full shock, then burst out laughing. “That’s a good one, Merlin. You almost had me convinced!” he hollered, jumping up, and grabbing the clothes that lay nearby. Without thinking, he threw them on, strapped on the medium-sword, and grabbed the lute before running from the room.

Half an hour later, Friedrich was sitting outside, somehow having found the way out… he was sitting at the edge of a cliff, looking over the water, twinkling the lute’s strings. Sad music filled the air around the bard. “Catarina…” he whispered sadly, pulling her beautiful face to his mind’s eye. He swallowed when the image of the unknown woman from his dreams replaced Catarina’s face mere moments later.

Why do I keep seeing her? He though miserably, the lute continuing to sing its saddened tunes. He suddenly stopped playing.

“I know you’re there, Merlin.”

“I was not lying to you, Friedrich Von Felt… You are the reincarnation of the soul of Colonel Petras. That is why you held this energy, yet never sensed it before now… if you had just lived your life, you would have died peacefully, and this danger would have been removed forever. However… now that it has been unleashed, there is no turning back. If I killed you now, you would simply revive. The mythical beasts possess immortality. Total immortality. That is the reason why you had been banished to the Great Void, yet you somehow escaped that banishment. Your three colleagues are here, on this world, as well… so the choice is obvious.

“Friedrich, I will train you to the best of my ability, making sure that the power that sleeps within you remains asleep. It must be contained.”

Friedrich chuckled darkly. “You’re still trying to convince me of something that isn’t true, Merlin.”

Suddenly, Merlin’s hands drew a sword form mid-air, and the old man aimed a vertical slash directly for the back of Friedrich’s head. The bard dodged to one side, rolling away along the edge of the cliff, dropping the lute along the way and drawing the sword. He rolled up into an attack position. Merlin charged, and Friedrich blocked the strike with little effort before dodging to the side and aiming a slash at the wizard’s unprotected side.

The sword was blocked by a magical shield along the sorcerer’s body.

“If I am lying, then what are you doing, carrying a sword in the open like that? And how is it that you know not only to use it, but the positions of your body as well?” Merlin asked in his bass-voice.

Friedrich stared at the medium-sword he was holding in his two-handed grip. It was true… he had strapped on the sword as if it was natural to do so… yet, it wasn’t natural. He was a bard. The most he carried was his dagger, which he could conceal under his clothes. His eyes grew wide with fear at the implications that Merlin’s story might be true.

“Welcome back, Lord Petras,” Merlin whispered, bowing deeply. “It will be my honor to be your guide and teacher.”

Friedrich swallowed. “As long as you stop calling me that…” he said, somehow, somewhere, finding the strength to speak and still be coherent. “My name is Friedrich.”

 

Friedrich’s mind was a total black veil, leaving no room for conscious thought as his body moved on its own accord, flowing through the motions of an ancient form. Dangerously close his feet came to the edge of the sheer cliff, always close, never missing a step. Pebbles of chalk fell down as Friedrich’s feet caressed the edges, yet always there was that subconscious drive to keep himself stable, away from falling.

Suddenly, Friedrich’s thin veil of mental meditation rippled roughly, as if a rock was thrown in water. His eyes flew open, and he froze in spot, staring into nothingness, recalling the memory of where he had learned the form his body had been practicing for the last five minutes.

The room he was in was made of crystal, and Friedrich had actually become accustomed to the strangeness of the Atlantean buildings. In the large room, as always, he could make out vaguely the forms of his three companions, yet he had no time to search. The mysterious brunette grabbed him, roughly using a technique similar in style to what he had been practicing to throw him on the floor. Again, her mysterious words were unidentifiable to Friedrich, and he stumbled as the flashback ended and his body regained natural control.

Picking himself up and shaking his head to clear the cotton between his ears, Friedrich swallowed a couple of times to wet his dried mouth. He calmed himself, and turned to stare over the ocean.

Brittany. I am in Brittany, his mind whispered. I am a thousand kilometers from my native region, brought here by ancient magics beyond my comprehension… Friedrich swallowed. To hear I am responsible for where we are now…

He looked down, his feet on the edge. How easy it would be to just jump off and end this misery.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Merlin’s voice penetrated the self-doubt in Friedrich’s mind. “It will only hurt tremendously… but not kill you.”

Friedrich sighed. “Nothing is that easy anymore,” he whispered sadly. “I used to like life… freedom… arts. Now, I am the destroyer of an ancient civilization, and I almost did it again.” He turned to Merlin, back to the ocean, heels right on the edge. The chalk cliff rippled and cracked, but did not yet break off.

“Sometimes, I wish I could still have that choice to kill myself,” he ended sadly, spreading his arms, lifting his head, and closing his eyes, as if ready to fall backwards off the cliff.

Merlin remained impassive as he looked at Friedrich. “If it’ll make you feel better, why don’t you? But I am not going to fish you out. You can swim around, and make your own way back.”

Friedrich actually chuckled as he released his pose and stared at Merlin. “That would take me weeks.”

“And it would be mighty uncomfortable. That water is freezing.”

“I’m the Phoenix. I can keep myself warm,” Friedrich replied, stepping away from the edge. He stared sadly at the ground. “But still… I am responsible.”

Merlin took a deep breath. “What’s in the past is in the past, Friedrich. You can’t change it… just learn from it, and it isn’t in vein. With your kind of abilities, imagine what good you can do for the world. With your strength and endurance, there is nothing that can stop you…”

Friedrich snorted, and walked briskly past Merlin. “I’ll be in my room. You know where to find me for this afternoon.”

Merlin let the man pass. “Perhaps I’ll even feed you,” the ancient sorcerer said, remaining to stare at the sea.

“That’d be a change,” Friedrich said sarcastically. “I haven’t been hungry since… ever since you got me here,” the man recovered, not wanting to think about the incident that nearly brought the world down to a halt. Again.

After the man was gone, Merlin sighed, and bowed his old, gray head. “You should let go of your guilt, Friedrich… for it will consume you if you don’t…”

 

“I must warn against this course of action, Friedrich. Your fellow Elementals are safe... there is no reason to disturb them,” Merlin said as Friedrich packed some gold into a purse.

“They are safe for now, Merlin. But what happens should one of them be confronted with the same thing as me?” Friedrich replied calmly as he checked his boots for their fit. He had changed quite a bit since getting here... most notably, he had put on muscle mass. And he now behaved calmer and more rational than the Bard he once was. Taking his lute, he played a few notes. Once a bard, always a bard. “I'd rather they find out from me than from them unleashing... I am not sure they could take that.”

Merlin sighed. “Neither could you...”

“Exactly why I'm going to find them, tell them, and help them contain their beast-selves,” Friedrich said on a deciding tone, turning to face Merlin. “And you will help me do it.”

Merlin snorted once, dryly. “And precisely how will you convince your fellow Elementals? Walk up to them, introduce yourself as Colonel Petras, and explain about Atlantis and the elemental beasts? You'd find yourself on a pyre faster than it would take you to finish the story.”

“If they're anything like me... they've been having dreams for many years... and I am convinced we shall recognize each other. My dreams have become more vivid since the Phoenix unleashed, true, but even without that vividness, the dreams were practically the same.”

“And you are aware that your colleagues are mortal, are you not?” Merlin stated calmly.

Friedrich chuckled. “They are mortal for now, Merlin... but I am not planning on them staying that way.”

Merlin drew pale under his hood. “You... you can not be serious, Friedrich! Unleashing them would be highly irresponsible! I am still recovering from containing you! And so are you, I can imagine.”

Friedrich smiled wickedly. “I am as fresh as a daisy, Merlin. Have been for quite a while. In fact, I haven't felt tired for a moment since that first week.”

Merlin swallowed, taking one step back. That one step was all it took to show Friedrich that he had startled his mentor once again. “One week!? You recovered from that in one week!?”

Friedrich smirked, grabbed an apple from a nearby dish, and took a large bite from the juicy fruit. The bowl replenished magically. Thinking that a useful trick, Friedrich chucked the apple dish in his backpack, making sure it was full so it wouldn't fill his entire pack with apples. “Yep,” he answered Merlin's startled exclamation with a smirk.

The wizard shook his head. “It doesn't matter... your friends can not be unleashed. I do not have the strength to contain them.”

“Who said you'd need to contain them? And who said that they would be unleashing in the first place?” Friedrich said with a chuckle, turning, and walking out the door. “See you in a couple of weeks, Merlin!” the bard shouted, vanishing in a magical spell.

Merlin grunted something that sounded a lot like “I never should have taught that young upstart to do magic.” Muttering like that, the ancient man turned and walked to his cave under the castle Tintagel. He motioned to the puddle of water built in the center. The scene shifted to Friedrich, who had appeared in a forest right outside of a large monastery village.

Friedrich sighed as he took in the defending banks and ditches surrounding the town. He didn’t know how he was going to locate the second Elemental. He didn’t even know WHO it was, or how he looked like. Sitting down under a tree, Friedrich wondered not for the first time whether he was making the right decision. He was about to turn this man’s world upside down… was it right for him to reveal the secret of the Elementals, making this man immortal, bearing the curse for all eternity, rather than letting the beasts die out naturally?

“But the chance always exists that they’ll be reborn… at least if I do it like this, they’ll be trained, not going to break unnecessarily,” Friedrich whispered to himself. “And I know that, deep down, I have always felt this emptiness, which has now been filled. I know that I’m much happier knowing what it was… how it came that I am faster, stronger, and smarter than everyone else. And with the emergence of the Element within me, that has reached its full potential… I’m even stronger, faster, and more enduring now…” Friedrich saw the sun dip low, disappearing under the treetops. “I’ll go first thing tomorrow,” he decided, settling in for the night.

He had missed being out in nature like this, and Friedrich wholeheartedly enjoyed his night out in the open. The next morning, one of his traps had caught a hare, and he roasted it before going to town. As he chewed the animal religiously, his mind wandered back. “Catarina,” he whispered sadly, staring into the flames that were still heating some of his late breakfast/early lunch.

“You loved the outdoors… and now you’re gone…” tears streaked the bard’s cleanly-shaven cheeks. “My Catarina,” he sobbed, burying his face in his hands, not noticing, or caring, that the rest of his hare were carbonizing under the fire’s influence. For what seemed like hours, Friedrich remained there, like that, like a broken man at the edge of madness.

Finally, he looked up as the sun reached its highest point in the sky. “I can’t keep dwelling on the past… not right now… I have important work to do,” he whispered, standing up, urinating out the remainders of the fire. Casually, he walked into town barely an hour later.

 

Drachen was a man in his mid-twenties, dark-brown hair cut in the standard monk’s tonsure: bald, with just a ring of hair around his head. It wasn’t often that one so young reached the prestigious post of Chief Librarian, but in this case, it was fully deserved. An orphan, Drachen had grown up in the care of the church, and from an early age, he had shown a remarkable intelligence.

The church leaders, recognizing that intelligence, fed it with everything they could find, and the young Drachen had gone into religious service. Reading every book he could, the young man barely left the library of his monastery, only leaving to maintain to correspondence he held with other learned men of his day and age.

Right now, Drachen was reading a very interesting book about how the world was supposed to be round, not flat. Curious, Drachen read the different statements. The book went against doctrine… and if it should be revealed within the library, it would be burned. Finding the material fascinating, and corresponding correctly to what he had seen earlier in his life, Drachen decided not to tell his superiors, instead reading the book and placing it back among the other tomes, effectively hiding it among its peers.

But still… a monk could not escape his duties, and today was the day he would go into town and procure the herbs necessary for the monks’ different herbal drinks. Most of the herbs needed grew on the monastery lands, but some had to come from far away and Drachen was one of the few who knew what to get from the different vendors.

So, Drachen carefully marked his page, and hid the book back in its open hiding spot. After securing the precious tome, he walked down the winding stone stairs to the ground floor, and went to the monk who was in charge of the brewery.

“Brother Drachen,” the friar greeted him as he entered the separate building.

“Brother Helmut,” Drachen responded in kind. “I have come for the list of required herbs.”

“Ah, yes,” Helmut replied. “We are in need of the following:” Helmut listed a variety of requirements, and Drachen noted them in his head, before nodding, and saying he’d be back shortly.

Drachen then went to the abbot, to ask for the money necessary for the herbs. He received a single gold piece, which was actually a tad little for all the herbs Drachen was to get, but the monk kept his mouth shut, and left the monastery. He knew that money was always in short supply… gifts had been few lately. Perhaps some of the monks needed to go out and preach generosity to the local lords.

Drachen went to the usual salesman, and started stating the list of required plant life.

 

Friedrich walked slowly through the crowd of the market, his eyes scanning the crowds as he tried to pinpoint a familiarity, a face, a voice, or maybe even just an impression. Heck, he’d be glad if he had just a feeling.

Suddenly, his eyes locked on a young figure dressed in a form-concealing brown monk’s robe, haggling with a vendor of something or other. Friedrich pushed closer.

 

“Please, brother Valencius,” Drachen whispered. “Donations have not been generous lately…”

“I know, friar. But I must feed my children, and my wife… I am already giving you a healthy discount for the herbs,’ the vendor replied, obviously not happy with the fact that he had to hassle with a man of the cloth, and obvious sign that he really did need more money.

 

Friedrich overheard the last part of the conversation as he pushed closer, as if inspecting the man’s display of herbs. Some of these herbs came from pretty far away, Friedrich saw. And the herbs the friar had selected were of the most hard to come by sorts… no wonder the man wanted more than the single gold piece the friar was trying to pay with. His hand slid to his pouch, feeling the Mage-gold he had summoned before he had left.

“Excuse me, my good man, but how much do you require from this poor monk?” Friedrich asked, causing the two to look at him.

 

As Drachen looked up to the unfamiliar voice, staring in the unfamiliar face, something drilled deep home. Something achingly familiar. Drachen’s eyes went open. Wide open. “Do I know you, good sir?” he asked of the bard.

 

“We have met, long ago,” Friedrich replied calmly, smiling disarmingly. “My name is Friedrich.” He turned to the vendor, lifting his money pouch. “Now, how much is this poor man’s bill?”

“Eh… he was short two silvers and one copper…” the vendor replied.

Friedrich lifted a gold piece from the pouch, cursing his oversight at not summoning anything but gold pieces. “Here, my good man. And keep the rest.”

“Thank you, good sir!” the vendor said, pressing Friedrich’s hand.

“Yes, you are truly sent by the Lord,” Drachen said, turning to Friedrich, and shaking his hand after the vendor finally released it. “But I must admit that I am curious as to where we have met… I usually never forget a face.”

Friedrich dipped his head. “Please… if I may accompany you, I shall try to explain.”

Drachen dipped his head. “My name is Brother Drachen,” he finally said as the duo had made their way through the market’s busy square. “I never told you my name.”

Friedrich smiled, and dipped his head in thanks. “Where we met… may be difficult to believe. Do you believe in dreams, friar?” Friedrich asked, hoping that his instincts were correct.

“That depends what kind of dreams,” the man of the cloth replied curiously.

“Horrible dreams,” Friedrich whispered, feeling tears sting once more. “Dreams of death… of ancient cities made of crystal, of people turning to ash…”

Drachen stopped as Friedrich whispered, and the latter had taken three more steps before noticing his partner had stopped. The friar stared at Friedrich with a haunted look in his eyes. “What do you know of those dreams?” Drachen demanded, stronger than he should have.

“I have them, too.”

“Just what are you talking about?” Drachen demanded, sounding rather angry now.

“Not here,” Friedrich replied calmly. “Come.” Feeling his companion’s angry stare burn in his back, Friedrich guided the man to the forest that lay around the village. No matter what, nature calmed him, as it had done for him for almost his entire life. A bard’s life was often a lonely one, and nature had been his constant companion for a long time.

“Now. Talk,” Drachen stated.

“You don’t really sound like a man of God,” Friedrich said, smiling slightly. Drachen’s eyes burned.

“Don’t mess with me…”

Friedrich’s smile didn’t waver, yet he did stop the taunting. Then, he sighed, and looked up at the treetops. “You probably won’t believe me… but this is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”

Drachen swallowed. “If you’re so sure I won’t believe you, then I probably won’t, and this is a waste of my time,” the monk replied, tone normally level. He half-turned, preparing to walk away.

“But, if you’re like me, then this will sound true in your heart, even if your mind won’t accept it,” Friedrich finished, as if the friar had never interrupted him. Drachen stopped, turning back in curiosity. Something in the man’s tone grabbed him, forced him to listen. As he had chosen his path in early age, as he would chose to listen to this man now.

“Have you felt the energy deep within you, Drachen?” Friedrich asked, turning back to face his companion. “Have you ever felt that something stir deep within, the energy, the raw power fueling you long after you know you shouldn’t have been able to continue?”

Drachen swallowed, mind flashing back to his early days at the monastery, the days that strung into weeks, where he slept little or not, ate very little, locking himself in his cell with tome after tome after tome, studying, trying to comprehend the world. The other monks were in reverence of him ever since… his long fasts and marathon study sessions still gripped him from time to time.

“Yes,” the man admitted. “Yes, I know what you are talking about…”

“What if I told you I know where that energy comes from? And what… just what would you do if I told you it’s not even the most meager bit of its true potential?”

Drachen stood there, stunned for a few moments, frozen to the ground. “What are you talking about?”

“Lt me tell you an interesting story,” Friedrich said, sitting down under a tree. Drachen, curious, sat down next to him. “I know you’re a learned man, a man who has observed the world, and tries to understand it… I have seen you at the herbal shop.”

Drachen nodded in quiet acknowledgement. Friedrich continued. “In that spirit, I ask you to keep an open mind, do not judge what I tell you by what you believe… but by what you know.”

“Very well. But will you get on with it? The suspense is killing me,” Drachen grunted, not unkindly.

Friedrich chuckled. “Once a bard, always a bard,” he chuckled. “Anyway… here goes the story. Twelve thousand years ago, there existed an empire. An empire of men, the first and only of its kind. This empire held great achievements… and they became arrogant through it. They went too far… and pushed into the real of the Creator. By merging the great forces of the Prime Elements into mortal men, they crossed the ultimate line, and they paid for their arrogance with the demise of their empire at the hands of those they created.”

Drachen looked on in disbelief.

“The Elementals that were created in such a manner were great warriors that held tremendous energy and even higher intelligence. Godlings. Neither man, beast, or god, these men were a category on themselves… the elementals. In their arrogance, the empire of Atlantis sought to test its creations… until they found the trigger. Being created of mortal men by mortal men, the Great Elements were under the influence of mortal men’s emotions. And as such, they unleashed… the real power of the Prime Elements was unleashed upon the world. Fire, Wind, Water, and Earth destroyed the Atlanteans and their empire… and in its death-throes, the last of the Great Atlantean Sorcerers banished the Elementals to the Great Void, never to be reborn.”

Drachen’s mouth hung open slightly, such was the art of storytelling of Friedrich.

“But, the magic of the Elementals would not be so easily contained. The High Sorcerer’s spell lasted for thousands of years, degrading century by century, millennium by millennium… until such a time as the Elementals’ souls broke free, and they were reborn in the mortal world.” Friedrich looked directly at Drachen. “I am the reincarnation of Fire. You are the reincarnation of Water.”

Drachen stared at Friedrich for almost a minute, then burst out laughing. “I’ve never heard such a good joke in all my life! You almost had me falling for it as well!” the friar laughed, getting up. “Magic! Great Beasts! That’s a good one!” the man laughed, starting to walk away.

“If I can prove that magic exists, will you believe me then?” Friedrich asked, completely serious, standing up as well. Drachen halted, and turned to the bard, tears of laughter coming down his cheeks.

“Sure! I can only laugh more!” the monk said, still snickering. Friedrich smiled; exactly what he had hoped for.

The bard reached for a pouch in his backpack, and without too much trouble traced a circled pentagram on the ground with the orange powder from it. Drachen looked on, unable to believe how far his new friend was willing to take this. But… the man had paid for the herbs, and he had entertained him on a great story, so perhaps this would be good for a laugh as well. And besides, even if the man was nuts… he didn’t appear dangerous. So, Drachen remained, standing, watching as Friedrich completed the circled pentagram, and traced a second circle around the figure.

“Now… stand in the middle,” Friedrich invited, motioning for the exact center of the symbol. Drachen looked, shrugged, and stepped over the powder, careful not to disturb it. Friedrich nodded in appreciation.

“Now what?” the friar asked. “Oh, and this’d better be something good… or I’ll have you excommunicated for blasphemy,” Drachen asked, playful grin on his face.

Friedrich smiled right back. “Oh, you’ll like this, Drachen. I assure you.” With those words, Friedrich closed his eyes, and started muttering. Drachen felt something creep up his spine. The air grew thick like smoke, and the monk had trouble breathing. Then… his breathing troubles he forgot instantly as glowing orange symbols appeared in between the inner and outer circles. As Friedrich continued to mutter, Drachen felt fear grip his tightly in its clutches.

Every part of his body screamed at him to run, yet every instinct he possessed urged him to remain frozen to the ground. The powder lit up, glowing like the symbols of power that Drachen recognized on some subconscious level. Within him, he felt energy rise, bursting to the surface, begging for release, urging hi acknowledgement.

Pain flooding his nerves, threatening to overload his brain as deep within him the Ancient Elemental Beast awoke from a slumber that had lasted for over twelve thousand years.

Drachen’s closed eyes were opened roughly, glowing a bright blue as his entire body stance became like Friedrich’s. “I am the Dragon of the Sea!”

Friedrich remained stoic at the sight of the monk with the glowing eyes. “Yes, you are… but are you also Drachen?”

The Sea Dragon cocked the monk’s head, taking Friedrich in. “Drachen?” the thundering voice asked. “Drachen…” it repeated, as if savoring the taste of the word. Recognition dawned upon the ancient lines of the Sea Dragon’s version of Drachen’s face. “Drachen…!” it stated. “Yes. Drachen is here… safe,” the Dragon said, clenching its fist, and slamming it down on its heart. “We are both quite safe… Lord of the Elementals, Phoenix of Fire.”

“Good to hear that, Dragon of Water, Second in Command,” Friedrich answered calmly, letting the Phoenix within him guide his speech and his actions. “But it is vital that the host regains command.”

“I know,” the Sea Dragon rumbled. He closed his eyes, and drew a deep breath. The hardened face relaxed. “Friedrich… what in the name of the Lord did you do to me?” Drachen demanded, feeling the Sea Dragon rescind, settling deep within his subconscious. And, Drachen was sure, watching as well.

“I released the Elemental within you,” Friedrich replied calmly, finally stepping closer, breaking the circle that was still drawn on the forest ground. “Are you okay?”

Drachen finally opened his eyes. “Okay? I am better then okay!” he shouted, clenching his fists, lifting them, and staring at them. “This… this is incredible!”

Friedrich smiled. “Glad to hear that… but now I must find the others.”

 

“So, where are we going exactly?” Drachen asked Friedrich as the two walked along the little-walked forest path.

“We’re going that way,” Friedrich said, pointing a little to the right of the path they were walking. “That’s roughly the direction the others are.”

“I still can’t believe this…” the former monk said, stopping, and turning around to stare in the direction they were coming from. He sighed melancholically. “I still can’t believe I just walked away…”

“You can still go back,” Friedrich replied friendly, stepping next to his new friend, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I am not stopping you. I gave you a choice, and that still goes… you want to go, just go. I am not forcing you to come with me.”

Drachen chuckled. “And give up all of this?” the man asked, eyes twinkling. “We’ve been traveling less than a day, but already you’ve told me thing that make more sense than my entire life of reading stuff at the library! I am not wasting the opportunity of a lifetime.”

Friedrich nodded, smiling slightly. “Then, let’s keep going… we’ve got quite a way to travel.”

Drachen answered Friedrich’s statement with a nod of his own, and turned to walk alongside the former bard. “I thought you said you teleported to find me?” the man asked. “Because that would be something I’d very much like to see!”

Friedrich smiled slightly. “Unfortunately, they aren’t as easy to locate as you… I never stopped to wonder why I could teleport to your location so easily, but now I know it’s because you spent your entire life at the same spot. And let me remind you… I was teleported outside of the city. It could have taken me weeks to find you in there. The brothers are moving, they can’t be found so easily. All we can do is cast a scrying spell every now and then, to see if we’re still going in the right direction. That’s it. Trying to teleport might as well dump us in the ocean. Magic’s fickle in that way.”

Drachen nodded thoughtfully. “That makes a strange manner of sense,” he said, mind in overdrive. “The rate of success for a teleportation spell is related directly to the amount of time the target has spent in a certain place, as well as the familiarity.”

Friedrich chuckled. “Yep,” he agreed. “And if I wanted to teleport to a place, rather than a person, there would be no problem.”

Drachen nodded again. “Can’t you use magic to see where they are now, and then teleport to the place?”

“If I could have done that, I would have ported directly to your cell at the monastery,” Friedrich replied calmly. “No, you can’t do remote viewing without something of the person or place you want to see. For instance, I’d need some hair, blood, or really intimate object of a person to see him.”

“Magic really isn’t as powerful as it’s said… just as many rules to it as there are to the mundane,” Drachen said.

“More, often,” Friedrich replied. “For instance, that gold I paid with? It’s made with something called ‘alchemy’, allowing you to transmute things like iron or lead into gold. Only problem is that alchemy has the rule of equation… meaning that the result must be worth as much as what you put in it. So, in order to make gold from lead, I must augment the worth of the lead to make it as valuable as gold.”

Drachen nodded. “Makes an odd kind of sense… so, how did you make gold from lead? Without buying yourself a wagonload of lead, and turning it into a single gold bar, worth as much as the lead in the first place?”

“Who said I used lead?” Friedrich said, chuckling. “I used lead for an example. But, you’re absolutely right. Were I to have used lead, the transmutation would have turned the lead into its equivalent worth in gold, which would not be a good thing for your finances… no, what I did was really look at the rule. Both sides, in and out, must be of equal value. So… I satisfied the rule. I used something valuable to make the gold with.”

“Do tell,” Drachen said, curious as to what the bard might have used to make his Mage Gold.

“What I did was give the alchemy my life force. Or rather, some of it.”

Drachen’s mouth opened. “Your life force?”

Friedrich nodded. “We are elementals, Drachen. Our life force regenerates faster than a human’s… but still, it’s not something I recommend doing. I’m still recuperating. It’ll take me another three days or so before I’m fully regenerated. In total, it’ll have taken me a week.”

“And how much gold did you get from it?” Drachen asked, calming down as his companion’s calmness inspired his own.

Friedrich threw his purse to Drachen. “I only used two gold pieces to pay the herb merchant. The rest’s all there.”

Drachen weighed the heavy leather purse in his hand, then handed it back. “That’s quite a lot of gold. Better make sure we don’t get robbed,” the former monk said.

Friedrich chuckled. “It’ll get us by… but it’s not unlimited wealth. I used it to get us started, but I wouldn’t recommend doing it on a permanent basis. Magic has the tendency to become nasty when used for personal gain.”

“So, as long as you use your gold like you did with me…”

“… there’s not much of a problem,” Friedrich finished. “Correct. But, if I were to summon gold to buy myself a huge house or something, then I’d have a big problem.”

Drachen shook his head. “I can’t wait till we get to your sorcerer-friend’s house. I won’t be leaving his library for quite a while.”

Friedrich chuckled. “Merlin’s an asshole… but his heart is in the right place. He’s genuinely worried about us, and what we can do the world should something happen, and he has the nasty tendency to see into your soul when you’re talking to him. Must be the result of having lived for 1500 years.”

Drachen stopped, and choked in shock. “He what?”

“He’s lived for 1500 years,” Friedrich said, turning and smiling slightly at his friend’s shocked face. “And he can read you like an open book because of it.”

Drachen shook his head as they continued to walk. Soon, the sun started to set, and Friedrich stopped them fifteen minutes later, right next to a small river that snaked through the landscape.

“Let’s make camp here,” the former bard suggested. Drachen nodded.

“Can I try that scrying spell? I saw you do it yesterday, and I’m dying to get my hands on some magic,” the ex-monk asked. Friedrich shrugged.

“Sure. I’ll lead you through it… it’s not that difficult.”

Five minutes later, the two men were seated across from each other, a small deep-purple circle between them. Drachen closed his eyes, and focused. “Just concentrate of the others,” Friedrich instructed gently. “Then shape the words of the spell.”

Drachen dipped his head once. Focusing on the others, or what he thought the others were like, he began chanting the spell he heard from Friedrich the day before. “I invoke thee, Solar Spirit, with the good auspices of a live God in order to see the other Elementals.”

The purple circle vibrated, then seemed to liquefy as it changed in shape. The very purple of the circle vanished, to be replaced by a vibrant red, while reshaping into an arrow and pointing in a certain direction.

“We are on the right track,” Friedrich said as Drachen opened his eyes to look at the results of his spell. “However, it’ll still be a long march,” the former bard said, pointing to the length of the arrow. “About ten days march, I’d say.”

Drachen beamed at the arrow. “I can’t believe I just performed magic!”

Drachen chuckled. “I know… it’s a powerful feeling to tap into the forces of the Otherworld.”

“Interesting spell, though,” Drachen said, thinking about the spell for the first time. “I didn’t think about it last night…  I had a lot of other things on my mind… but now that I do think about it, that is an interestingly shaped spell.”

“In what way?” Friedrich asked, curious.

“Needing the sponsorship of God,” Drachen replied.

“That’s to be on the safe side… spells for remote viewing, teleportation, and so forth go by the Astral Realm… and Merlin told me that leaving one’s plane of existence is always risky. That’s why you invoke not only the Solar Spirit to find the others, but do so under the protection of God, to make sure you aren’t lost while trying to find them,” Friedrich explained.

“I’m looking forward to meeting Merlin… this magic interests me so much,” Drachen said, longingly as he looked up at the stars above.

That night, for the entire four hours that he slept, Drachen had the same strange involving dreams as the night before… dreams about the crystal city, and about the strange brunette that was training him and Friedrich. The other two were hazy, not in focus, unable to be made out in the strange world that is the Dreamscape. The next morning, Drachen pondered slightly about who Friedrich determined the remaining two were brothers… then remembered that his companion had been awakened months earlier, and therefore, his dreams must be more revealing than Drachen’s.

Five minutes later, Drachen found his companion, sitting at the edge of the small river, staring melancholically over the surface.

“Something wrong?” Drachen asked as he sat down.

“Demons from a past life,” Friedrich answered calmly, hiding the pained look, and standing up. “Come on, we’ve got another day of heavy marching in front of us if we want to reach the others.”

Not ten minutes later, the duo was underway once more. “Say… how do you know the other two are brothers?” Drachen finally asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

Friedrich sighed. “I don’t really know… I just have that feeling. And they’re always together, so they’re either best friends, or family. So I’d say my gut is right.”

Drachen chuckled. “A week ago, I’d have you committed to a mental hospice. Now I’m just as nuts as you are,” the formed monk said.

Friedrich smiled. “To be honest, I’m surprised that you let me cast that spell without either hesitating, or trying to stop me.”

“Because I thought you were mad. But your madness seemed to be enjoyable to me, so I’d decided to let you go on and see how much more laughs I could get out of you,” the man replied honestly, shrugging once.

Friedrich snorted in laughter, and soon the two friends were laughing out loud as they walked along the forest path.

 

“Just a monk and a bard,” an unkempt man reported to a second man, looking just as shady as the first. “Not worth attacking.”

The second man, the one spoken to, grinned brown teeth bare, revealing the half a dozen or so teeth missing from his mouth. “Have you seen that purse on the bard? Those are messengers, trying to pass off as a monk and a bard, you fool! Go tell the others to get ready. We’ll get them soon!”

The first man grunted, scurrying off. The second man, the leader, turned to look in the distance, where the two figures were approaching. “Soon…” he whispered.

 

Friedrich and Drachen had recomposed, and were now walking in silence toward their goal, both men buried in their own thoughts. Drachen thought of the monastery, and all the things Friedrich had told him about.

Friedrich, on the other hand, was thinking about Catarina. Needless to say, he had a solemn look on his face, and his eyes stared off into the darkness of his own soul as he remembered the deaths his unleashed beast-form had caused on his behalf. His fist clenched as subconsciously, the emotion welled up that some of them most certainly deserved their fate.

And then he remembered the children… their youthful faces looking up at him in wonder and awe as he told them stories about mighty dragons and faraway places. And now they were dead, their blood on his hands. Friedrich swallowed against the rising bile in his throat, forcing himself to regain emotional composure, and succeeding mostly thanks to Merlin’s emotional control techniques.

His ears twitched, and Friedrich could feel rather than see his companion come to a complete standstill next to him, his own sharpened instincts in overdrive. It sounded like the release of a string… before Friedrich knew what had happened, a buzzing sound flashed past him, followed by a startled grunt and the sound of a weight dropping to the ground.

The Fire elemental turned around, to see his companion on the ground, dead eyes staring at an arrow sticking out of his chest. Direct heart shot. Instant kill.

Friedrich’s instincts went into overdrive once more, and his hand reached out on its own violation. An arrow. An identical arrow.

“NOW!” a scream came from the bushes, and a dozen men jumped into view, brandishing sword, axes, and one even carried a halberd. The one with the bow remained hidden, yet Friedrich knew where the man was. He knew from where the arrow had come. His head turned to stare in the direction of the man, red-glowing eyes burning into the shooter’s soul.

Then the others were upon him. Not bothering to look, battle instincts honed under the Slayer Elisheva came into being. He stepped out of the way of a downward sword-strike, foot lifting on its own and kicking a man in the chin, lifting him off the ground, catapulting him back into the bushes he came from. A startled cry signified that he had been staked on some branches.

Friedrich flipped around, planting his full open hand against the chest of the man who had taken the first sword strike at him. The moment his hand touched the swordsman’s chest bone, the man catapulted back with a startled scream, crashing against a tree trunk, staring vacantly startled for a few seconds, before falling straight forward, out cold.

The other bandits had surrounded him now, and Friedrich found himself standing in the center, standard martial arts pose, staring at them, waiting for them to make the first move. Under his breath, he started muttering. “Obey these words of power, watchers of the threshold, watchers at the gate..”

Unfortunately for him, the bandits were neither chivalrous nor sporting, and charged him at the same time. Seven swords, two axes, and one halberd went up, and came down, at the same time.

Friedrich dodged the only way he could. Down.

Pushing his hand on the ground, he muttered a spell of power. “…unbar the guarded door, obey this command of this servant of power!” he hollered out loud, a circle of power appearing from his flat hand, reaching out to the charging bandits, before exploding in some kind of mystic force that exploded from Friedrich out, throwing the men back from where they came.

Slowly, Friedrich righted himself, supervising what he had done. Only six of the bandits were scrambling up, the rest having landed against trees, rocks, or impaled on some bush’s branches.

Grinning evilly, Friedrich surveyed the men clambering to their feet, shaking, undetermined to continue this, trying to figure out whether they were seeing things that weren’t possible.

The bandit’s leader was righting himself behind Friedrich, ignoring the corpse of his comrade that was sprawled across that of the monk they had killed. He wanted that purse, and he was going to get it. So what if the myths of the bard’s magics are true…he still can’t come back from the dead! The band’s leader thought as he hefted his sword, ready to strike at Friedrich’s unprotected back.

The next moment, something immensely strong landed on his shoulder, twisting him around with the force of a hundred score of horses. As he turned like a rag doll, he was stopped just as easily by… the monk?

Suddenly finding himself lifted off the ground by a single hand on his leather jacket, and forced to stare into viciously blue-glowing eyes, the bandit leader heard the monk shout.

“Thou…shalt…not…KILL!” Drachen howled, making the man squirm in freight, eyes locked on the pulsing arrow sticking out of Drachen’s chest.

The former monk only now noticed the arrow still in heart, and withdrew it with his free hand, eyes burning blue as he saw the blood drop from the tip. His teeth bared as he growled low in his throat.

It was not a good sound, the sound of the dragon angered. Friedrich’s eyes opened wide. Oh Crap… he’s gonna release!

The arrow exploded in the force of Drachen’s grip. Much to Friedrich’s relief, the man brought the bandit leader closer to his face. The former monk had learned a lot of things while at the monastery, hwoevr, emotional control was never part of it, thanks to the sheltered life. He had, however, learned a great deal of religious baggage, which he now released to its full potential.

“He that smiteth a man, so that he die, shall be surely put to death,” the monk growled deeply, voice resounding like waves crashing against the shores. (Ex 21:12)

Continuing to hold the man so their noses were practically touching, Drachen’s formidable mind kept supplying the quotes. “And if any mischief follow, then thou shalt give life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot!” As he kept shouting, Drachen hefted the man as high as he could lift him, then took a mighty swing that made the man cut through the air like a piece of rubbish. (Ex 21:23-24)

And this is called the Touch of Elimination, Drachen heard in his head, supplied by the velvet voice he couldn’t identify, speaking in the language he had never learned, yet understood perfectly. Generating the Force of Soul, this move can potentially release the full potential of your body.

Drachen finished the move flawlessly, the man cutting loose from the former monk’s grip, sailing straight through the air and slamming through the centennial oak tree nearby. “Burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe!” He finished at the sight of the man’s broken body laying dead on the ground behind the felled oak. (Ex 21:25)

The Water Elemental looked from the leader’s broken body, searching for new targets. All he saw was Friedrich, holding a man with a bow. A vicious snarl appeared on Drachen’s face, the Elemental within supplying him with a nearly endless endurance and limitless rage. The shooter whimpered as a stinking yellow liquid stained the front of his pants. Friedrich wrinkled his nose.

“Drachen, calm down.”

Drachen growled, advancing on the shooter. Unfortunately for Friedrich, he was right behind said shooter.

“Drachen, think of the calmness of the air! Release your rage, or it will consume you!” Friedrich shouted.

Drachen growled again; less convinced this time. “Drachen…” Friedrich spoke calmly, gently, tone level. “let the calmness enter your heart.”

Drachen sighed, blowing out a breath that seemed to deflate the man utterly. “What the…?” the monk whispered, shaking.

“That’s what happens when you piss one of us off… the elemental takes over,” Friedrich explained. “Which can be a good thing, or a bad thing. The good thing is, it revived you even though you still had an arrow in your heart. The bad thing was for him,” the former bard ended, indicating the robbers’ leader. Drachen swallowed harshly, trying to control his rising bile. It was the first time he had seen a body as badly mangled as that one. He had, however, treated many wounded in the monastery, and controlled himself without losing any contents of his stomach. No matter how much it wanted to escape.

“You,” Friedrich spoke, coldly, in the shooter’s ear. “You have killed my friend.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” the man wailed.

“And you tried to kill me as well.”

“I’M SORRYYYYYYY!!!!!!” the man wailed louder, crying like a little girl. “PLEAASE let me go! PLEAAAASSSSEEE!”

“I don’t know,” Friedrich replied calmly. “You only took a shot at me… you killed my friend. I think that he has the right to chose, don’t you?”

“PLEASE let me go! I…I only did it because… because… eh…” the man stammered, begged, pleaded, before running silent as he failed to come up with a decent excuse, mind totally an utterly panicked.

Drachen approached, coldly looking into the shooter’s eyes, who now crapped his pants as well. Friedrich’s face twisted in revulsion at the offending smells of urine and feces.

“Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth,” Drachen intoned calmly, coldly. The man drew pale, shaking in Friedrich’s hold as the monk from hell approached. “But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also,” Drachen finished. Friedrich smirked slightly, letting the man drop.

“Shoot me again,” Drachen ordered, spreading his arms wide. The shooter took his bow, took one long, hard look at the monk’s open chest, then glanced to Friedrich, whom he had seen catapult back over half a dozen grown man with a couple of spoken words, and slowly stood up.

And he made a hurried run for it, screaming his lungs out as he ran.

The two Elementals watched his run. “That last part was cruel,” Friedrich told Drachen.

The former monk shrugged. “That’ll teach him to shoot me.”

Friedrich chuckled. “Now you see I wasn’t kidding when I told you that you’re immortal.”

“Yeah… that was quite a thing,” Drachen replied, shaking now that his nerves finally caught up with him.

“Imagine how *I* felt,” Friedrich said, smiling somewhat ruefully. “My first death was being burned at the stake… imagine my surprise when I came back, immune to flames.”

“Eh… what!?”

Friedrich shrugged mysteriously, a sad look in his eyes. “Past life… it doesn’t matter.”

“It damn well does matter!” the ex-monk shouted.

“No, it doesn’t,” Friedrich replied calmly, simply shooting a look over his neck to his chasing companion.

Drachen caught up with the former bard, and slapped him on the shoulder. “Why were you burned at the stake?”

“Why did you join the monastery?” Friedrich replied calmly, ignoring the former friar’s threatening looks. “We all have our secrets, Drachen. Allow me mine, and I’ll allow you yours,” he finished, voice sad, and the look in the bard’s eyes told Drachen that he really shouldn’t delve too deeply.

“I understand,” Drachen answered somewhat coolly. “But one day, you’ll tell me, ok?”

Friedrich sighed. “Perhaps. It’s… difficult to talk about.”

Drachen nodded silently, keeping an even pace with Friedrich, unknowingly falling in the same cadence, walking like soldiers down the forest path, totally forgetting the destruction they caused to the bandits.

 

“So, the two brothers should be in this village somewhere?” Drachen asked.

Friedrich shrugged, smiling slightly. “You were the one who cast the last locator spell… you tell me,” he replied calmly. Drachen shot him a dirty look.

“Very funny.”

“Thought so, too,” Friedrich replied calmly, starting his easy trot into the village. Drachen once more joined in cadence, following two aces behind Friedrich.

Five minutes later, they had entered the local tavern, strangely named ‘The Duchess’ mug’. The small village didn’t even have a local overlord, let alone that the two travelers had seen any duchesses around.

“Two ales,” Friedrich ordered, paying with some change he had gotten at the last tavern for his gold piece. Bringing them over to their table, the duo set out for a calm drink. The local farmers had gone back to their own drinks after determining that the duo weren’t harmful. Of course, they knew that the local gossip was now about them, but they didn’t care.

“Are you sure…” Drachen began.

“We’re looking for two brothers. They could be anyone of these people,” Friedrich replied calmly, sipping his strong ale.

“So how do we find out who they are?” Drachen asked. “You were the one who found me, remember?”

Friedrich chuckled. “You’ll know, trust me,” the former bard answered. “There’s no mistaking the feeling.”

Drachen shrugged, willing to go on trust for the moment, and sipped his own ale. Deciding on changing the subject, the monk said, “you know… it’s strange. I never went far from the monastery. I thought I’d have more problems traveling ten days on foot.”

Friedrich nodded. “We’re Elementals, Drachen. Immortal. Our bodies adapt rapidly. Even to being killed… as you found out after that bandit shot you.”

“Which was an interesting experience,” the other replied. “Having an arrow stuck in your chest, and actually living to see it… and it didn’t even hurt.”

Friedrich shook his head. “When you enter that stage, the element within you blocks all pain, and enables you to push your body beyond its physical limits. Which is why you were able to put that man through a tree, instead of just against it.”

Drachen chuckled, and sipped his pint. Friedrich sipped his own. The two elementals looked at each other, and sipped again. Remaining silent, both put their pints down at the same time. Not breaking eye-contact, they took the mugs and drained them.

The door was pushed open roughly, and half a dozen men in armor streamed in. “Beer!” the leader shouted, and half the patrons in the tavern scurried out of the way, clearing a table for the newcomers.

The elementals broke their eye-contact, and looked at the new ‘patrons’. The 14-year-old waitress of the bar brought over the beers with a fearful look in her eyes. Drachen could see his companion’s eyes narrow at the same time as he felt his own neck-hair lift to the skies. Adrenaline pumped through his veins.

After the girl had put down the drinks, one of the men grabbed for her behind. The girl nimbly dashed out of the way, to the bar. Friedrich and Drachen simultaneously let out their breaths as the other men laughed with the grabber.

Friedrich got up, gathering a strange look from Drachen, before making his way to the bar, and ordering tow new ales from the older woman behind the bar. As he did so, he turned to the woman’s daughter. “Don’t worry… if they try something, it’s not their best day,” he whispered to the girl, who looked gratefully at him.

“On the house,” the mother whispered as Friedrich reached to pay for the drinks. The former bard shook his head, and paid.

“I haven’t done anything yet,” the man replied, collecting the drinks and walking away before the woman had time to object. Sitting down at his table, he bent over to Drachen. “I just told her that…”

“I heard,” Drachen said, nodding, and taking his drink. “And I’m with you all the way.”

Friedrich nodded gratefully, feeling the tension in the bar rising as more and more patrons stood up and left. Soon, only them and the brutes were still there, along with the patron and her daughter.

The door opened, and Friedrich and Drachen stared at the newcomers, then at each other.

“Are they…?”

“They are,” Friedrich replied. “But we wait… at least until those guys are out of here.”

The former monk nodded. “Agreed.”

The two newcomers, dressed like royal knights, sat down at a table in the corner. Soon, they too had ales in front of them. It may have been unfortunate that they also asked for something to eat, as the mother disappeared in the back kitchen, and the brutish men demanded beer from the young waitress.

Drachen and Friedrich sat up straight, ready for anything. Unbeknown to them, the two new knights had done the same.

As the girl passed out the drinks, the same man as before grabbed her. This time, she wasn’t fast enough, and the man dragged her on his lap and kissed her roughly. Her startled scream and her slap on his cheek was enough to stun him momentarily, and causing the others to laugh at her spirit. The slapped man, angered now, grabbed her forcefully, and forced her against him once more.

Friedrich and Drachen were up in a moment, but the two knights in the corner had jumped a little earlier, and beat the elemental duo to the punch.

“I believe the girl said ‘no’,” the elder brother intoned coldly.

“Or rather, she would have said no had you given her the chance,” the younger brother grunted, just as coldly. From those two sentences, Drachen and Friedrich’s suspicions were confirmed.

It’s them, passed between the two elementals as they calmly took opposing positions. “And I think you’ll better leave,” Friedrich stated coldly from the other side of the group of seating armored men.

“Why would we? This wench will give us all many warm nights,” the brutish man grunted, grabbing for the girl’s right breast. She squealed as he fondled her, trying desperately to get away.

Drachen’s fist connected to the man’s cheek without warning. His head snapped over, and he pulled the girl away, shoving her behind him as the man’s grip released under the shock.

The next moment, the two knights drew their swords, and Friedrich grabbed hold of the one man who had jumped up to help his companion. Effortlessly, the former bard lifted the brute off the ground, and ejected him through the door. The commotion had brought the girl’s mother form the kitchen, and the teen ran crying to the older woman.

Happy that the girl was safe for now, Drachen focused on the upcoming fight. The five remaining men were looking at each other, and at the one man ejected through the heavy oak door.

“I will make this easy on all of you… leave, and never return,” Friedrich stated, coldly. “Or face the consequences.”

The two knights were about to protest, yet something held them back. Not knowing what it was, they let it slide. The surrounded men looked at each other, and they would have left had the man who had tried to grab the girl kept his quiet.

He drew his sword, and hacked for Drachen, giving the sign for his companions tog et up and fight as well.

Not five minutes later, a group of armored men were lying on a heap, right outside the bar’s front door. Friedrich stepped up to the unconscious group. He started to remove their clothes. Drachen smiled wickedly, and started helping the man.

The two knights were undecided for a few seconds, and then joined in. Soon, the six brutes were totally and utterly naked. By the time they made it out of the village, they were too embarrassed to ever return.

“Thanks for the hand,” Friedrich said, shaking hands with the knights, after which they shook hands with Drachen as well.

“Do we know you from somewhere? You look familiar…” the older brother said as they stepped back into the tavern.

“We’ve met… long ago,” Friedrich said, mysteriously. “Come, let’s drink and I’ll explain.”

“Explain?” the younger brother asked, not really understanding. “What’s there to explain? Have we met or not? And if yes, where have we met?”

“We have met… in our dreams,” Friedrich replied calmly as he sat down. Looking up at the two knight-brothers, he asked, “Had any good dreams lately?”

The two knights fell in their chairs. “What do you know about those dreams?” the older brother demanded.

“We have them too,” Drachen stated, using the same opening line Friedrich used on him, now understanding that it was actually quite fun to have the upper hand. He noticed form the corner of his eye that Friedrich shot him a small grin, and a flash of understanding passed between the two men. The two knight brothers burned slightly in anger.

“How are you sure that they’re the same dreams?” the younger brother asked, sounding quite miffed.

Friedrich and Drachen shrugged at the same time. “Not too many people have dreams about crystal buildings, a brunette, and about a way of living beyond your wildest dreams,” the former bard said. “But… let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he continued when he saw the brothers’ looks change to shock. “My name is Friedrich Von Felt, and I used to be a Bard before I found out the truth about those dreams.”

“My name is Drachen Von Der See,” Drachen filled in on cue. “And I used to be the head librarian at a monastery in Bavaria.”

“Eh… Heinrich… Heinrich Fuerrot,” the elder brother whispered. “Traveling Knight…”

“Georg… Feurrot… also traveling Knight,” the younger brother whispered.

“What truth?” Heinrich finally asked, his senses returning to him.

“Let’s talk about that later,” Friedrich whispered as their young waitress appeared, flanked by her mother. Both were considerably better than when the group had ejected the brutes.

“Thank you, noble ones!” the mother crowed, throwing herself to her knees at the table, trying to kiss every hand of every men she could grab… at the same time. “Whenever you are in need, you will find help in this house! We may not have much… but whatever I have is yours!”

Friedrich stood up, gently pulling the woman to her feet. “What we did came from our hearts,” the bard said, with his usual flourish for words. “And as such, we require no payment. Your gratitude suffices as payment, and all we ask is that you live long, healthy, productive lives.” Where did all of THAT come from? He asked himself.

“Like hell it is!” the younger brother grunted, starting to get up. To everyone’s surprise, not in the least of Georg himself, it was his own brother that pulled him back down. “It is enough,” Heinrich grunted coldly.

Friedrich nodded in thanks to the man, before turning back to the women. “However, ejecting brutes has made me quite thirsty… could you bring us another round of ales?”

“Of course!” the mother shouted, scurrying off to the bar. The girl just beamed a smile at Friedrich, then darted off to join her mother.

“Heartbreaker,” Drachen muttered to Friedrich.

“How would you know?” Friedrich replied, grinning, putting his hands behind his head, and pretended to be studying the large portrait that hung above the front door. It was a simple picture, depicting a woman in her mid-thirties, quite attractive, with brunette hair. ‘Duchess’ the name underneath it read, and for a moment Friedrich wondered who this Duchess was, when he was brought back to reality by Drachen’s reply.

“Just because I lived in a monastery all my life does not mean I am blind, my friend,” Drachen said with a chuckle. “Even monks are only men, after all…”

Friedrich chuckled, shaking his head. Drachen chuckled along with his friend. The girl darted over with their drinks, and after they were all sipping from a strong brew, Heinrich bent over to whispered to Friedrich, “So. Truth, was it?” he asked with a grin.

Friedrich dipped his head once. “Truth,” he answered. “The truth to who you are, and the truth behind the dreams… and it is a story that stems back twelve thousand years.”

Heinrich and Georg looked at each other, each one obviously waiting for the other to proclaim their new friends insane.

 

“They’re looking quite impatient,” Drachen noted to Friedrich as the Bard poured out the mysterious dust in the magical circle around the two brothers.

“Not much longer,” Friedrich grunted as he finished the magical circle around the two brothers, staring impatiently at the two other elementals. “There. All finished.”

“So, you’re going to hex us now?” Georg asked, grin on his face. “Just try to make my devilishly good looks come through when you change me into a frog.”

“Don’t worry, boy,” Friedrich grunted, a little affronted. “You’ll change into a fly… your looks might be there, but no-one will enjoy them before you go ‘swat’.”

Heinrich burst out laughing, and laughed even harder at the hurt look on Georg’s face. “You should have seen yourself!” the elder brother snickered, pointing to Georg. He turned to Friedrich. “You’ve just become my best friend! Anyone who can throw out replies like that deserves my respect!”

Friedrich chuckled, then shrugged. “Hey, for all you know, your brother might be right… if I screw this up, you might turn into flies.”

Heinrich startled, froze, and stared slack-jawed at Friedrich’s casual tone. Now it was Georg’s turn to laugh.

Friedrich winked at Drachen, who stood by and just enjoyed the show. The Water Elemental nodded, and stepped back. Friedrich closed his eyes, and started muttering.

The two brothers froze, fear worming its way into their eyes. Drachen could see them close their eyes, before they started breathing in deeply, as if fighting for the air to enter their lungs. He knew from experience what they were now going through, and he knew it wasn’t enjoyable. But he also knew it to be necessary. How Friedrich had convinced them as well to undergo this procedure, Drachen would never know. There was something about the bard…

Drachen could see the symbols flash in between the inner and outer circles, before the entire magic circle disintegrated, vanishing into thin air. The two brothers opened their eyes, and stared at each other.

They then turned to Friedrich. “I am the Thunderbird of the Skies!” Heinrich shouted, in a perfect mimicry of what Drachen remembered the Sea Dragon shouted upon its awakening. He felt something stir within him, and could see the subtle changes within Friedrich as well… their own elements were coming out along with the ritual.

“I am the Golem of Earth!” Georg howled, right behind his brother.

“Yes,” Friedrich stated, calmly, totally erect, staring fearlessly into their glowing eyes. Heinrich’s were glowing an ethereal white, while Georg’s were a radiant brown. “But are you also the Feurrot brothers known as Heinrich and Georg?”

“Heinrich…” the Thunderbird whispered.

“Georg,” the Golem said, nodding. “Georg is safe. Deep within,” he stated, clenching his fist over his heart.

“Yes,” the Thunderbird agreed. “Heinrich is safe.”

“What would you have us do, Lord of the Elementals, Phoenix of Fire?” both elemental brothers asked as the same time.

“It is vital that the host remains in command,” Phoenix/Friedrich answered calmly. Drachen felt respect for his friend for his ability to keep in command like this… he knew that if he were to speak right now, it wouldn’t come out so calmly… or as smoothly. Something within the Phoenix’ control was different, Drachen realized. How is he in such control while we are barely hanging on by a thread?

“For now, you should both regress… it is good to have you both back, Thunderbird of Air and Golem of Earth.”

Both nodded, closed their eyes, and the knights were back.

“What in the name of the Lord have you done to us!?” Georg shouted. “What… sorcery… have you used to put those evil possession in us!?”

“No…” Heinrich whispered, cutting off his younger brother. “No… they didn’t posses us. They were already there.”

“Exactly,” Friedrich said, nodding. “Glad to see I won’t have to repeat my story.”

Heinrich grinned a little sourly. “But the question remains… what do we do now? If the rest is true as well, we’re immortal, stronger, faster and smarter than the rest of humanity. We’re above and beyond it. What do we do now, for all eternity?”

Friedrich shrugged. “I don’t know about you guys, but I want to figure out just what happened twelve thousand years ago… and I have a pretty good idea it was humanity’s stupidity that brought their downfall. I’m thinking that, should that be the case, I’ll try and make sure it doesn’t happen again. You know, like a protector they don’t know they’re having.”

Drachen nodded thoughtfully. “Good plan. I’m in.”

Heinrich looked at Georg, both brothers silently communicating. Then, they shrugged. “Why not? Let’s go find out what happened, and try and make sure it doesn’t happen again,” Heinrich spoke for the both of them. Friedrich smiled gratefully, then lifted his hand over the table. Instinctively knowing what he meant, Drachen placed his hand on top of his companion’s. Heinrich and Georg followed soon after.

“From now on, we’re the Illuminati… the Enlightened Ones,” Friedrich spoke on a whispered tone. “We shall protect humanity from itself, and prevent it falling back like it did before.”

“Agreed,” the other three spoke at the same time, and the foursome released the hand-grip over the exact center of the round table.

“Let’s make this our headquarters,” Heinrich suggested, looking around the tavern. “I rather like it here.”

Friedrich nodded, along with Drachen and Georg. “Good idea,” Drachen said.

“Why not?” Friedrich asked with a grin, placing his hand flat on the table, and casting a glance to see whether the matron or her daughter were watching. They were occupied behind the counter. Closing his eyes, the bard channeled his magical energies. The table lit up for just a fraction of a second, before the glow spread out and permeated the building. It was merely a flash, but it was enough to have the two women in the bar look up. All they saw were the four men sitting around the table, acting as if nothing had happened, talking quietly among themselves. Suspicions lifted, the duo went back to what they were doing.

“I enchanted this place,” Friedrich whispered. “We’ll be able to teleport here directly, or anywhere near the vicinity, should it be necessary.”

“Cool,” Georg said. “Jut one thing, though…”

“How do we teleport?” Heinrich asked.

“THAT is something for my teacher,” Friedrich said. “I am still learning magic myself… I broke of my training to come find you guys. I thought you might want to know what was going on in your lives.”

“You’re so right about that,” Drachen stated. “Now that I finally know the truth about myself, I feel a lot better.”

“Totally in agreement,” Heinrich stated, his brother just nodding in agreement.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Friedrich asked with a grin. “Let’s go to Tintagel, and meet Merlin, the biggest pain-in-the-butt wizard you’ve ever met.”

“Not to mention he’s the only wizard I ever met,” Drachen grunted, causing Friedrich to chuckle as he stood up, and walked to the counter. He threw the remainder of the mage-gold on the counter.

“We like this place,” Friedrich told the stunned matron. “and we don’t want anything to happen to it… please, accept this as a gift from the heart, and use it to safeguard not only the future of this bar, but also your own future.”

The matron looked at the riches on the counter. It was enough to buy half the county. “My Lord, I can’t accept this…” the matron started to say as she looked up, only to find the four men having disappeared through the door, which only now clicked shut.

Stunned, she looked at her daughter, who was staring wide-eyed at the shining coins. “Looks like we have a bright future ahead of us…” the matron whispered, causing her daughter to just nod silently.

“Now that we have a headquarters, what will we do? After Merlin’s through with us, that is?” Drachen asked Friedrich as they vanished in a teleportation spell. The moment they vanished, Drachen forgot all about his question as the magic ported him thousands of kilometers away, to castle Tintagel, located on the shores of Brittany.

“Perhaps we find out what really happened to Atlantis,” Friedrich replied as they reappeared, doing his best to appear calm… even though he was shaking just as much as his new friends were. Magical teleportation wasn’t his idea of a comfortable ride, but it was necessary, sometimes.

“Huh? Oh… right,” Drachen said, regaining his wits as his brain re-engaged. “Atlantis. Right.”

Friedrich chuckled, and walked to the gates. “Hey, Merlin! I’m back!” he shouted. To everyone’s surprise, the gates slid open on well-oiled hinges, but without a person in sight. “Old coot,” Friedrich grunted. “Not even coming down in person to greet us.”

“I see you’ve found your colleagues,” a cracking voice said from behind the group, causing all four Elementals to jump up and flip round in mid-air. The robed figure of Merlin grinned at them, his hood hiding the amusement on his face.

“Merlin,” Friedrich grunted, walking up to the person. “I see you haven’t learned any manners yet.”

“And you still have your big mouth,” Merlin replied calmly as he walked past the former bard, through the group that split apart like the Red Sea as he walked into the castle. “So… you’ve come back to complete your training, then?”

“Yes, Merlin,” Friedrich said, turning and walking in behind his mentor. The other three Elementals shrugged, and followed. They could feel it in their bones that this Merlin was quite powerful. And Elemental or not, without training in their powers, it was quite possible for this human mage to give them a run for their money.

“I see,” the ancient wizard said as he slid deeper into Tintagel, and the gates closed behind the group. He turned around, facing the group. “Are you all sure of this? I can attempt to re-seal your powers… or banish you to the Great Void, should you prefer to living for eternity with this horrible responsibility.”

“Hey now,” Heinrich grunted angrily. “We all chose for this, Friedrich gave us the choice. So don’t go around threatening us, because I swear, myths or no myths, you’ll feel just what my blade is capable of!” the angered knight shouted, his left hand bringing the sword on his side into position to be drawn with his right hand, merely as a demonstration… as if Merlin needed help determining what sword the knight was talking about.

“Yes… but has he told how he came by his knowledge?” Merlin asked calmly. The three newcomers felt Friedrich stiffen, and it put them instantly on guard to protect their new comrade and engage Merlin, should it be necessary.

“I see… so he never told you about what happened four months ago,” the wizard stated. “He was a bard, and fell in love with the daughter of a lord. They spent quite a while together. He made the mistake of teaching her some tricks… and it got them both on the pyre. She was burned to death before his very eyes… his Fire Elemental protecting him from the fire.”

The three elementals stiffened, and looked at Friedrich, who was staring angrily at the ground, fists balled, body quivering in repressed anger and hate.

“It released the full force of the Phoenix. Your good friend there leveled the town of the lord, killing everything and everybody in it. And then he went on a rampage, whole determined to kill every human in existence.”

Friedrich snarled. When he spoke, it was the voice of the Phoenix. “They killed her. They deserved it!” When he looked up, his eyes were burning red with rage. Then, something shifted, and Friedrich shook his head. The glow died down. Rather than say anything, the man turned, and ran off. The three Elementals watched his vanish, before turning to Merlin.

“You could have told us in some other manner,” Drachen grunted. “Next time, I will kill you.” With those words, he turned, and walked off in the direction he had seen Friedrich vanish in. The two knights remained for a few seconds longer.

“Both of us would probably have done the same, had we seen some stupid mortal burn out love,” Heinrich grunted. “What Drachen said goes double for me.”

“And triple for me,” Georg stated, turning along with his brother, vanishing after Drachen.

Merlin watched them go. “By the forces of the Great Being, they already have the loyalty of old. Let’s hope that this time, humanity can keep itself intact.”

 

Friedrich was sitting on the edge of Tintagel, watching the ocean roar far below him. Slowly, he regained some calmness in his body and mind, but his heart remained troubled. That old bastard…after all the trouble to find them, he destroys our friendship in one blow.

Drachen walked up to his travel partner, and sat down next to him on the fortifications. “Nice ocean view.”

“That it is,” Friedrich agreed. Slowly, he turned to Drachen, only to find out of the corner of his eye that the other two were joining them as well. “I’ll understand if you want to leave…” the former Bard whispered sadly, staring down into the ocean. Being the Phoenix had totally alleviated his fear of heights.

“None of us would have reacted differently,” Drachen stated. “Our own elementals felt just like you did… we would have roasted that village too. And probably lost control and gone after the rest of them as well.” He shrugged. “Or rather, in my case, I would have drowned them. Heinrich would probably have electrocuted them, and Georg would have crushed them under some mountains or something. But you know what I mean.”

“Guys…” Friedrich whispered, looking up.

“I ran to the monastery,” Drachen suddenly said, looking over the water. “My father was the local lord… one who exercised his right of Prima Nocte… I was conceived that way… As I was smarter than my father’s kids, he kept beating me, telling me I was trying to show off because I was the son of the lord. My mother never stood up to him… too afraid to be beaten herself. I ran to the monastery at age seven, the only place where rank and descent mean nothing, and where I could get a decent education.”

Friedrich sighed, and looked down at where the water struck the base of the cliff Tintagel was built on. He understood what Drachen was doing… Friedrich’s secret had been revealed, and it was only fair for him to reply with his own.

“We are traveling Knights,” Heinrich stated, sitting down on the other side of Friedrich. “Simply because this is all we have… each other, our harnesses, and our swords. We don’t have a castle, or lands, or people under us. Our father lost the battle against his neighbor, and we were exiled as such. We travel the lands, surviving on what we find, or what the people we help share with us.”

Friedrich listened, and nodded. He understood right then what they were doing. “Thank you.”

“We are the Elementals,” Georg whispered, barely loud enough to come out over the crashing of the waves below. “We should stick together.”

Friedrich nodded again. “Agreed.” He held out his hand. “To Elementals, friendship, and the bond of blood.”

Drachen placed his hand on top of Friedrich’s. “Te Elementals, friendship, and the bond of blood,” he agreed.

The two knights smiled, and as one, placed their hands on top of the union. “Elementals, friendship, and bond of blood,” they both agreed.

 

Merlin lifted his staff and motioned for the doors of his library, which swung open obediently upon his command. Silent as ever, the wizard strode into the humongous room stuffed with ancient tomes and scrolls. “So this is where you all are,” the man said at the sight of the four elementals he had been searching for the last half hour.

Drachen was sitting at a table, three tomes open on it, an ancient scroll opened on his lap, and a brand new piece of parchment right in front of him, on which he was writing.

Friedrich was sitting cross legged on the large windowsill, reading a humongous tome. The two brothers were flat on the ground, propped up on their elbows as they each read a medium-sized tome. Still having more than 5000 pages, the books were considered medium compared to what other books Merlin possessed.

Neither elemental looked up from what he was reading on Merlin’s statement.

Slightly piqued, the wizard put his hands in his sides, and stared angrily at his charges. Giving the fact that he was still carrying his wizard’s staff in one hand as he did so, made no impression whatsoever on the elementals.

“What is so fascinating you won’t even answer me?” he demanded, voice rising in anger.

“You didn’t ask anything,” Friedrich replied calmly. “I’m reading ‘Dissimilarities in the Common Areas of Habitation of the Phoenix and the Bugbear’. It’s fascinating.”

Drachen didn’t even look up, and just continued his work. “I’m looking through ‘Defense against Invocations’, ‘the Domestic Use of Invocations’, ‘remedial Invocation’, and of course ‘A treatise on Invocation’,” the man said, motioning slightly for the scroll on his lap at the last title. “I’m compiling a decent guide on invocations.”

Heinrich just chuckled at his companion’s zeal. “I’m reading ‘Military Use of Practical White Magics’.”

“And I couldn’t resist ‘the Sea Serpent’s Bodily Humor’ when I saw it…” Georg grunted as Drachen’s head looked up angrily.

Merlin shook his head. “It’s time for your mediation lessons,” the ancient wizard said. “If you want to get good at doing what those books describe, you’ll need…” his voice trailed off as all four elementals closed their eyes, and took in a breath. Next, they all levitated about five centimeters into the air, before slowly sinking back to the ground, and continuing to read.

“We’ve been using meditation to increase our attention spans,” Drachen said. “How else would we be able to keep going since yesterday evening?”

“You’ve been reading magical tomes since yesterday evening?” Merlin asked, slightly astonished. “It takes a wizard at least 150 years to build up the concentration for that!”

“We’re not wizards,” Friedrich stated calmly, flipping a page. “HEY! A Phoenix does NOT live on the tops of the mountains! We live in Volcanoes! Whoever wrote this should learn to keep his facts straight!”

“The man who wrote that has been dead for 700 years,” Merlin remarked dryly.

“Being dead is no excuse for being ignorant,” Friedrich grunted, slamming the book shut, causing Merlin to wince slightly. Next, the elemental stood up, looked at the rack where the book belonged, and found the empty space where it used to be. He jumped the three meters to the location, grabbed the shelf above, and hung on while replacing the book. He crept along the shelf, reading the various titles.

“I’m lucky that my shelves are magically reinforced,” the wizard grunted, turning and leaving the library now that he knew that his charges had no interest in a boring mediation lesson. After the doors closed behind him, he shook his ancient head. “Those four really are dangerous men… I am beginning to wonder whether I should have killed them before they unleashed instead of this…”

He sighed deeply. “Too late now… the elements have awakened. No way to kill them now.”

 

“So this is the ancient monument Atlantis left?” Drachen asked as Merlin took them to the site. “This place is huge!”

“It’s called ‘Stonehenge’,” Merlin replied, nodding. “We don’t know who exactly built it. We only know it was built to house some grand secret… one I have been unable to decipher in my 1500 years on this world.”

The four elementals nodded as they looked around the ancient stone circle, in perfect condition. “Drachen, any ideas?” Friedrich asked as he leaned against one of the huge stones in the middle, trying to get an overview of the circle.

“Hmm… very interesting,” the intellectual of the foursome whispered as his hand trailed over a couple of bluestones. “This entire structure is built to align perfectly with the lay lines of the earth… in fact, it’s something of a storage facility for Earth energy.”

“Doing… what? Just store energy? Why built this place just to store Earth energy?” Heinrich asked aloud as he jumped up on top of one of the lintels, looking down from an above perspective.

“Because earth energy is the only energy worth storing,” Georg replied smugly, grinning as he stood outside the circle, arms crossed, looking from an outside perspective.

“No… it’s doing something with the energy,” Drachen whispered, ignoring, or just not getting, the joke as he continued to think. “It’s focusing that energy into the altar in the middle of the circle,” he said, pointing to the altar where Friedrich was now sitting on. The Fire elemental jumped as if the altar would consume him. Drachen approached it, studying it form every angel as the other Elemental gathered around.

Merlin, a slightly smile on his lips, joined them as well. Ten minutes it took them… ten minutes to do more than I could in all my years of studying this place.

“It’s an ancient Atlantean facility of sorts, tied into the lay lines of Earth Energy to keep it going… but what is it doing?” the man wondered aloud. “Secrets… house secrets… secret… wisdom? Knowledge? A weapon? Technology?” At the last possibility, the man looked up and around the building. “No, this entire place is technology in itself. But what is it protecting?”

Rubbing his chin, the started to pace around the altar, looking at the building, the altar, and back to the building. “Secret… secret… what secret…” He turned to Heinrich. “What did it look like from above?”

Heinrich thought for a second, then took a stick and drew a perfect to-scale diagram of what he had seen on top of the lintel. Drachen stared, rubbing his chin again. “Atlantean! Atlantean language is the key!” the water elemental grunted. He looked up and around the building, the position of the bluestones, the horseshoe of sand stones, the altar… he walked to the bluestones. “There are just as many bluestones as there are letters in the Atlantean Alphabet,” Drachen muttered. “And this is where it starts. See the marking on the stone? This is the first letter. So if we count from here and spell out the Atlantean equivalent of secret…” he stopped.

“No… we need more clues. We can’t go around putting in random words in the hope something will happen. We need the key to open the lock… now that we know what the lock is, we need to figure out the key.”

Merlin’s mouth sagged open.

“You’re the only one who knows Atlantean, Drachen,” Friedrich said. “We don’t know what to look for.”

“Markings,” the other man replied. “Any kind of markings.”

“Wait,” Heinrich said, pointing to his to scale map. “Over here I saw something that looked like this…” he drew a sigil in the sand, something that looked like a seashell with a circle around it.

Drachen nodded. “That’s one letter.”

“How about this one, then?” Georg said, pointing to something on the underside of one of the lintels. It was barely visible, being in the shadow as it was, but with their enhanced vision it was perfectly legible.

“A second letter…”

Merlin swallowed, shaking his head, not believing he saw what he saw. It was so simple… how could he have missed it all? Five minutes later, they had ten sigils gathered from around the site, and Drachen pieced them together in what he claimed was Atlantean for ‘Danger’.

“Okay, here goes,” the elemental whispered, finding the first bluestone that corresponded with the first letter… or, at least, it was supposed to correspond with the right letter. He pushed against it… not very hard, afraid to push it over. Nothing happened. A little fearful that he was making a fool of himself, he found the next bluestone, pushed it, with the same results. One by one, he went to the correct bluestone, pushed it, and saw nothing…

Until he pushed the last one. Or rather, he didn’t have to push. The moment his hand touched the stone, it lit up, along with the other stones he had selected. A dull tremble went through the earth below them, and the outer stone circle lit up in blue pyrotechnics, flashes of lighting jumping from it to the center horseshoe of large sand stones, before exploding against the altar.

As the energy buildup continued, the shaking of the Earth continued and a thick deck of clouds darkened the skies. The alter slid open, two halves turning up to reveal a shining… glowing… inner sanctum of Stonehenge. Finally, the moment the altar opened, half of the outer circle exploded, the shockwave pushing over some of the bluestones and some of the hug sandstones in the middle horseshoe.

At the sight of the ancient monument destroying itself, Drachen’s face looked as astonished as the rest. Yet, he still felt somewhat responsible. “Oops,” he whispered as the clouds vanished, and the full devastation of the monument became clear.

Above the open Altar, floating in the golden glow, was now a woman, dressed in fine royal linens, staring with arms crossed and angered eyes at the four Elementals and their Wizard companion.

“Ra lù da-rí ù?” She damned angrily. Everyone stared in confusion at the woman. All except for Drachen, who looked on in confusion, as he tried to piece together the language. Who disturbs the eternal sleep?

“Me – en – dè,” Drachen replied suddenly, causing the woman to look… no, glare… at him. The others, stunned, snapped around to stare at him in confusion. “It’s Sumerian,” the Water Elemental replied. “Just took me a while to dig it up from all the references I came across in Merlin’s library.”

The woman didn’t let up, glaring at the foursome. “Me- en –zè àm?” Who are you?

“Drachen,” Drachen answered calmly. “A,” he added with a shrug. Water.

The woman now looked around the quintet. “You are the elementals,” she answered in the normal tongue. “What business do you have activating this outpost?” she demanded angrily, her voice colder than even when she had been talking Sumerian with Drachen. Coldly, she glared at Merlin. “Wizard of the Old School, why have you not stopped them?”

Merlin, even though shocked to his core to find this Atlantean apparition, managed to hold on to his wits. “The knowledge was lost… your majesty.”

“Majesty?” Friedrich asked in a whisper.

“What would you have called her?” Merlin whispered back, angrily. “Better too high than too low, don’t you think?”

Friedrich shrugged, acknowledging the point.

“What is still known?” the woman-apparition demanded, looking around. “How much time has passed since this outpost was constructed? The elementals were not supposed to ever be reborn.”

“Twelve thousand years since Atlantis fell, your majesty,” Merlin answered respectfully. “All that was known is that this was constructed by Atlantean Survivors… and held some great secret.”

“Twelve thousand years…” the woman whispered sadly. “Time has overcome…” she swallowed and looked at each of the four Elementals in turn. “What good would this place do you? Why activate it?”

“We wish to know… your majesty… what happened to Atlantis,” Friedrich replied, not liking the use of the title. “Our knowledge of the old days is… gone. We have dreams, yet our knowledge of old has perished. We wish to regain that knowledge, as to know what happened and prevent it from happening again.”

The woman stared at him for a long time, before glancing over the others. “I can not and will not give you everything,” the woman said finally. “For that would likely destroy you and recreate the events of 12,000 years ago. And this time, humanity may not survive. For that, I shall give you one piece of the puzzle, and send you on your way.

“You shall encounter three more outposts like this one, where you will gain more insight. On your journey, you shall learn to use what you have been given, and hopefully, you will use it better than what happened last time. At the end of your journey, all shall be revealed, and you will be able to find Atlantis… and your final knowledge.”

With those words, the apparition vanished, and the Altar slammed shut. Just as Georg was about to demand about the knowledge, the four Elementals felt their minds explode, physically catapulting them backward against one of the remaining pylons of the Stonehenge complex.

Merlin just stared as the foursome moaned in the throes of the artificially induced dream.

 

Images flashed, painfully making things clearer to Friedrich. What he was strangely familiar… training with normal, a man helping them gain knowledge and understanding… Grognar… Grognar, their teacher, their trainer…

The Staff Master. The Sword Master. Training. Cross-country… the Island. The Island with its inhabitants that were not to be disturbed. The strange animals with mysteriously powerful poisons that posed extreme challenges to his normal human companions.

Atlantean. The knowledge of the language was finally his again.

And… the next leg of their journey. He saw a great lion, hewn in stone, placed in a lush forest, to the south. Friedrich opened unseeing eyes. “SOUTH!” he hollered. “We must go south…” he repeated as his senses returned to him.

“Yes,” Drachen answered. “South. Across the Mediterranean.”

Heinrich and Georg stood up, and nodded. “Yes. That is where we must go.”

“South?” Merlin asked.

“Yes. South… across the Mediterranean,” Friedrich replied.

“I have no knowledge of a great monument there,” Merlin said, confused, thinking deeply. “I’m sure I would have known about it should it have been there…”

“Perhaps the monument itself is hidden,” Heinrich suggested. “Here at Stonehenge, the knowledge was hiding within a monument. Maybe the monument in the south has the knowledge and the monument itself, hidden.”

“Possibly,” Drachen said, nodding. “If it is, it could be interesting to find.”

Friedrich nodded. “Very well, then… let’s go South.”

The other three nodded, and turned to Merlin. “Well, Merlin… looks like this will be goodbye,” Friedrich said, making a motion with his hand, and summoning four packs. “We should depart immediately.”

“Of course… since you can’t teleport there, you’ll need to travel from the furthest point you know… the distance of which is still considerable,” Merlin replied with a nod. He reached out his hand. “But be aware that this is not over, Friedrich Von Felt. We shall meet again.”

“Count on it,” Friedrich replied, grinning, and shaking the wizard’s hand.

“I haven’t read your library yet,” Drachen said, grinning as well as he shook Merlin’s hand.

“And we haven’t bugged you enough,” Heinrich said with his own grin as he and his brother shook Merlin’s hand in turn.

“Oh, I’m so looking forward to that,” the old wizard said sarcastically as the foursome teleported away.

They reappeared not far from the Duchess’ Mug, where they had a good meal before trekking on. It was quite a feat to have a quiet dinner without the matron… or her daughter… trying to persuade them to take back the gold pieces Friedrich had left them last time.

“So… all we can do now is go that way?” Drachen asked, pointing straight ahead.

Friedrich nodded. “We’ll need to scry, though. Magic may lead us to the monument, wherever it is.”

“If it works,” Drachen replied.

“It should… it worked when you and I were scrying for the brothers. It should work for the monument of the lion as well,” Friedrich replied with conviction. “We’ll try it tonight.”

 

“So, where is it?” Georg asked Drachen as they climbed over the sand hill in the middle of the desert somewhere. “And this isn’t the lush forest I remember from my dream. And except for those pyramids, I don’t see anything.”

Drachen nodded, confused as the rest of them. He drew out a circle in the sands, and whispered the incantation. The arrow appeared, shorter than ever, pointing dead ahead. “We should be there…”

“Don’t you feel anything, Georg?” Friedrich asked. “You are the Earth Element. If the monument is here, you should be able to feel it.”

“Good idea,” Georg replied, closing his eyes, and drawing in a deep breath. On automatic, he connected to the earth’s lay lines. “I don’t feel…” he started, trailing off. “My God!” he shouted suddenly, eyes flying open, yet not seeing. Or better said, seeing beyond. Slowly, he turned around, surveying the entire surrounding area.

“Heinrich… help me for a moment,” he whispered, raising his hands. Heinrich, confused, closed his eyes and summoned a breeze of wind. Georg nodded, and clenched his fists, hollering an earth Magic spell. “Replace yourself, mighty sands of time, under the power of Earth and Air…”

The gentle breeze suddenly seemed to flare up, much to Heinrich’s surprise, and a major sand-storm exploded all around the elementals, yet not bothering them for even a moment. As suddenly as it had started, the sandstorm died down again.

“My God…” Friedrich and Drachen whispered at the same time as they surveyed what was the most magnificent sight they had ever seen up until now. In front of them stood three majestic pyramids, tall and erect in their ancient splendor. And directly adjacent to the tallest on, hitherto hidden under the sands, was a huge lion-like statue… only, instead of a lion’s head, the statue sported a human one, dressed in a strange headdress none of the elementals recognized.

Slowly, the elementals turned around, surveying the valley not far away. In that valley, ancient monument after ancient monument decorated the slopes, digging deep into the soil, disappearing in the hills they were built against.

“There must have been an ancient culture here,” Friedrich whispered. “One to build all these monuments…”

Drachen nodded. “They built upon handed-down Atlantean technology,” he said, turning back to the pyramids. “They re-carved the statue of the lion.”

“Are you sure that’s our statue? Don’t forget that Stonehenge told us that the statue was in a forest,” Georg stated.

Drachen nodded, yet pointed at the statue. “Look at it, Georg.”

Georg squinted his eyes, his vision zooming in the statue in the far distance. “What the…?”

“The statue’s sides are eroded through water,” Drachen said, nodding in acknowledgement. “That means rain… and rain means that this was once something else, not a desert. In the last 12,000 years, this must have changed from forest to desert.”

As they kept standing there, mesmerized by the magnificent sight of the ancient pyramid builders’ accomplishments, Heinrich got enough of the sightseeing. “Come on… let’s go to the statue. I want to know the next piece of the puzzle.”

Half an hour later, the foursome stood at the base of the huge lion monument. Nothing was happening as the foursome looked up to the tall statue’s human face.

“So, how do we activate it?” Friedrich asked Drachen.

“You sure we need to activate it?” Drachen asked. “Stonehenge was built to harness energy… but I don’t see anything like that here.”

Georg, meanwhile, was looking at the soil beneath their feet. “Hey, guys…”

The other three looked at him. “What’d you find?” Friedrich asked.

“There’s a huge chamber beneath us,” the Earth Elemental said. “Like a cave, only it’s rectangular, and very clearly artificial.”

Friedrich grinned slightly. “Looks like the statue was merely a way to mark the position of this room…”

Drachen nodded, knelt down and drew a portal sigil on the ground. He muttered the spell, and the foursome found themselves in a completely dark environment. Not a single beam of sunlight penetrated.

Friedrich closed his useless eyes, and summoned the power of fire from within him. A small flame appeared over his open right hand, casting light in the darkness. “And God spoke, let there be light,” Friedrich joked as he surveyed the room.

Georg and Heinrich chuckled, while Drachen merely shook his head in obvious tolerance. He focused on the room, which was quite large for being underground. “So… now what…?” he asked himself as he looked at the bare walls, hewn from the rock of the desert’s underground.

“Perhaps this can help?” Friedrich asked, pointing to a small stone cover in the corner behind them. Drachen immediately made his way over to it.

“Atlantean sigils,” he whispered, almost in reverence. “This is it… the next part…” then he frowned. “But the spelling and grammar on this is atrocious…” he looked up. “This isn’t built by Atlanteans.”

“What?” Friedrich, Georg and Heinrich asked at the same time. “What do you mean, this isn’t Atlantean?” Friedrich demanded.

“As I said… this isn’t Atlantean. It closely resembles Atlantean, but it isn’t. Someone else put these sigils on here,” the former monk replied somewhat testily. He pulled the cover back, and peered in the hole below it, not caring too much about the slab of stone that skidded slightly over the rough floor, possible damaging the sigils on it.

His facial expression changed when Friedrich’s flame illuminated a wooden box, with golden lettering on it. Golden lettering with real Atlantean sigils. “Wood…” the man whispered, picking up the box as if it would turn to dust in his hands.

“That’s a magic seal,” Friedrich whispered, pointing to a symbol over the lock. “Try to open it, and you’ll…” Drachen yelped as a small beam of energy leapt from the lock to his fingers as he tried to open it. Friedrich grinned. “And you’ll get shocked,” he finished. “Here, let me open it…” Drachen reluctantly handed over the treasure to Friedrich, who took it, and started whispering. Protection spells like these fell under Fire magic.

Finally, the sigil on the box flashed brightly, before dissolving. Out of its own accord, the box flew open, and immediately, the second apparition appeared. This time, it was a man dressed in royal linens, yet on his head was the same strange headdress seen on the statue above ground.

“I am Pharaoh… and my name was Kufu,” the man stated. “I built my Great Pyramid in the vicinity of the Ancient Sphinx as tribute to the God People whose knowledge drove my people for centuries. And in its honor, I have buried the ancient knowledge back where I have found it, and re-sealed the box as well as its room. Who dares to disturb that which I have decreed to be resting for all eternity?”

“This again,” Friedrich grunted under his breath.

Drachen stepped forward, drawing a deep breath. “The monument of Stonehenge sent us here, your majesty.”

Kufu looked at the man with head cocked for a few second. “Stone…henge?” he repeated, seemingly delving into his deepest memories. His face cleared up. “The Ancient monument of the North!” he cried out. “You activated it!? Do all of you have a wish of death?” the figure screamed. “Activating the ancient monuments of the God People is forbidden!”

“We are attempting to gather all the knowledge of the God people, to pay decent tribute to them,” Drachen replied, somehow finding a decent excuse for what they were doing.

Kufu remained silent for a few seconds, and just as Georg was about to interrupt him, the apparition spoke once more. “I believe I understand… time has passed, no doubt… tell me… is it possible that the God People have been forgotten?”

“Yes, your majesty,” Friedrich replied, finally finding his voice thanks to the convenient silence.

The man bowed his head. “Then your quest in honorable, and I shall release the ancient knowledge to you.”

 

Ten minutes later, the foursome stood topside once more, heads still spinning. “We must go to the western monument,” Drachen whispered.

Friedrich nodded, and drew a sigil on the ground. Whispering the spell, he received something he hadn’t expected. The arrow pointed, but its length…

“Oh, great. We’ve got to go to the edge of the world,” Heinrich said sarcastically. “Or rather, what these current humans believe to be the end of the world,” he added seriously.

“The world has fallen deep when people believe the world to be flat,” Friedrich said, nodding in agreement. “Let’s go. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

“Yes… a very long journey,” Drachen grunted as the spell disentangled itself.

 

“This is the most western point of Africa,” Drachen said as the foursome stared out over the vast expanse of water. “We have to cross the ocean.”

“Ocean...” Friedrich whispered in thought. “There are still gaps in my knowledge... I had no idea this was an ocean.”

“In all of our knowledge, Friedrich,” Heinrich replied. “I had no idea either.”

“Nor did I,” Georg added in. Turning to Drachen, he then asked, “How far do we have to go over this ocean?”

“The Western Ocean spans about 4000 kilons at this point,” Drachen whispered. “But that was 12,000 years ago... I have no idea how far the continents have drifted in those millennia.” He grunted, and balled his fists. “It's so frustrating to have only partial knowledge, and what you do know is twelve millennia out of date.”

“I know,” Friedrich replied calmly. “It really is very frustrating... but right now, we have to secure a vessel to cross the ocean.”

“Too bad we can't use the transporters, like in the old days,” Drachen said with a chuckle. The other three stared at him.

“Trans ... porters?” Friedrich asked, breaking the word up, as if trying to attach meaning to it.

Drachen sighed. “Mechanical devices, like a transportation spell, but a machine instead of magic. They could go anywhere in the world.”

“Even to places you've never been to before?” Friedrich asked, voice awed.

“Even to places you have never been to,” Drachen confirmed. “Atlantis had the most advanced technology ever... it is a great shame that its civilization fell.”

“We have to make sure it never happens again,” Friedrich stated. The other three nodded, silently renewing their vows as Illuminati.

“We can't let it happen again,” Drachen said what they all felt. “When this is over, we'll know everything that happened. We'll use that knowledge to protect the world from falling ever again.”

Friedrich nodded. “Now, let's find ourselves a boat... and if we can't, we'll have to use Alchemy to make one.”

Drachen looked around. “This place is even less advanced then Europe. We'll need to use Alchemy.”

Friedrich nodded in agreement along with the two knight brothers. “Unfortunately…” He looked around, scouting the desert. “Where are we going to find wood? And don't forget about food... we'll need food as well.”

“And plants to weave sails from. We can't row over a distance like that,” Georg grunted. Friedrich nodded, as did Drachen.

“Okay, let's split up and find what we need,” Friedrich whispered, bending down, and placing his hand on the loose sand of the desert floor. Closing his eyes, he channeled his alchemy skills. Four clay tables exploded from the ground in a cloud of magical clouds and dust. On each tablet stood a small list of everything they needed.

The last knowledge boost, at the Sphinx, had finally instilled the knowledge of the Atlantean hieroglyphs, and as such, Friedrich had inscribed the lists in Atlantean. “Each of you has a part of what we need... if everyone finds everything on his list, we'll have a decent-sized boat, with enough food for the voyage.”

The three others nodded, glanced at their lists and disappeared in different directions, beginning their search for their equipment.

It took them almost a week to gather everything up they needed, but finally the time came when the last elements were gathered.

“What I don't understand is why you asked for these clay pots and dishes,” Heinrich said as he put the items down next to the pile.

“I can enchant those,” Friedrich said as he looked over the pile of wood, copper, gold and iron. The rough plants gathered by Georg were in there as well. He nodded, and started drawing the Alchemy circle around the mountain of items. Drachen immediately helped, while Georg and Heinrich stood watch, making sure no-one saw what they were doing.

Finally, the huge circle was drawn, and Friedrich nodded to Drachen. Together, they knelt down, and placed both their hands on the edge of the circle. Focusing together, the two alchemists channeled their magic into the circle and the items provided. Energy welled up from the circle, obscuring the pile from view within seconds. Still, the two alchemists kept their eyes closed, still they channeled their energy.

The magic detonated around the items, sending gusts of wind over the desert, sweeping up sand and rocks. When the foursome opened their eyes to look, a magnificent ship stood where the pile of rubble used to be. It was a sturdy Atlantean design, in use before engines were developed. Sail-driven, the ship depended on the power and tenacity of the wizards on board to go as fast as possible on magical winds.

“And the dishes?” Georg asked.

Friedrich sighed, and took the first large dish. “We already have apples. Now we need vegetables...” he started whispering, making the bowl light up. The rough earthen dish transmogrified into a bright glowing gold, filling itself rapidly with all kinds of vegetables, from celery to carrots, from lettuce to onions.

Friedrich put it down, and started chewing on a piece of carrot that no one saw disappear from the dish, so fast did it replenish. “Since we'll need warm food as well, maybe I can do that next,” he said, taking one of the larger pots. “Let's see... anyone here have something against hare?”

“Eh... not really,” Georg said after he and Heinrich had exchanged glances. Drachen merely shook his head in the negative, grinning. Friedrich grinned back, closed his eyes and whispered.

The earthen pot too, changed into bright glowing gold, and soon the most delicious smells rose up from it. Water stood in their mouth immediately as the delicious smells reached their nostrils. “Hare stew,” Friedrich said with a grin as he grabbed a large chunk of meat from the pot, and put his teeth in it.

Suddenly feeling hungry themselves, the other three joined in, grabbing meat from the stew, drinking the sauce, and digging into the vegetable platter. All without any sign whatsoever of any of the magic items depleting.

“I suddenly feel like Jesus,” Friedrich said with a chuckle. “Only better...”

Drachen shot him a look, as if saying 'I used to be pissed about this'. “Better, how?” he asked.

“Well, think about it... Jesus had three loaves of bread and five fish passed around to feed a crowd. I just took empty earthwork, transformed it into gold, and I can feed all of humanity.”

Georg and Heinrich found it so ridiculously funny that they burst out laughing, and even Drachen had to chuckle as Friedrich fished after some hare stuck between his teeth with a piece of carrot.

“And this is why I asked for a couple of jugs as well,” Friedrich added, suddenly sitting up, and grabbing the first of the jugs. Closing his eyes, the jug morphed into gold. The three others held their breaths, unable to wait for what the crazy former bard was going to summon up next. “Anybody want some wine?” he asked, summoning an earthen cup from the sand of the desert.

The foursome feasted on in the shadow of the large boat. Friedrich filled a second jug with plain water, just in case, and he left a couple of pots alone, in case they wanted something else along the way.

Finally, the sun was setting, and the group decided to get the boat in the water. Lifting his hands, Friedrich cast the spell. The boat lifted into the air, and floated over to the water line. As soon as it was above deep enough water, it fell down... followed by Friedrich.

“Too ... too much magic,” he whispered. “Too much magic...” with those words, he closed his eyes, and slept deeply.

“He overexerted himself,” Drachen stated in obvious tolerance of the man that had lead them this far.

 

“So this is it,” Heinrich stated flatly as he and the others looked over the rocky desert. “Another desert. We crossed the ocean, traveled through the densest rainforest on Earth, climbed mountains, only to find another desert.”

Georg closed his eyes, and felt for the earth. “And this time, nothing’s been buried, either,” he said, sounding disappointed.

Friedrich and Drachen exchanged glances. “Nothing under the ground. So where is it?” Friedrich asked rhetorically.

“No idea,” Drachen replied anyway, looking around the perfectly even stony desert floor… his eyes squinted. “What in the Void’s name…” he whispered, squinting as he looked over the desert floor. “Heinrich, can you give me a boost into the air?”

Heinrich, confused, shrugged in reply. Closing his eyes, he balled his fists as he bent slightly through his knees. The next moment, a rush of wind had picked them up, levitating them a couple dozen meters above the ground.

“See those?” Drachen asked, pointing out lighter lines, where the dark stones had been cleared from the almost white sand underneath. “Higher, Heinrich.”

Heinrich nodded, and their altitude increased. Suddenly, everything fell into perspective. “This is an airstrip,” Drachen grunted, pointing to one of the largest straight lines. “It could land an entire air-carrier.”

“But what are these other lines?” Friedrich asked, ignoring the obvious question about the air-carrier. Obviously, it was some sort of device that could carry things through the air.

“The locals must have seen the strip, and decide to add their own,” Drachen replied calmly. He pointed to a figure of a bird, blown to extraordinary proportions laid out on the ground. “That’s where we need to be… the hummingbird always indicated things for Atlantis. Exits, directions, whatever… the beak tells us where to go.”

“So… whoever built this was of the air division?” Friedrich asked, dragging some more knowledge from the dark mists that clouded his ancient memories.

“Yes,” Drachen replied. “Stonehenge was built by a survivor or multiple survivors from the Terran Power division, tying in to the earth’s Lay Lines. The Sphinx was built by engineers, hiding knowledge on construction. And this was built by aviators, using what they knew best: the airstrip and the hummingbird. The other lines were added in by the locals later on.”

“Anyway, if you say that the hummingbird is where we need to be, then that’s where we’ll go,” Friedrich said, asking Heinrich to put them down near the hummingbird’s beak. Twenty seconds later, they were down.

“Drachen?” Friedrich asked.

“Hang on,” the water elemental said, running his hands along the floor next to the beak. “It can either be buried right here, or in the direction the beak indicates…”

“Let me,” Georg said, kneeling down next to the water elemental, and putting his hands flat on the ground. Closing his eyes, he let himself scan the vicinity. He looked off, eyes seeing beyond as he looked in a perfect 360° circle. “There,” he whispered, staring off in the direction the beak indicated. “That’s the only disturbance I can see.”

“Where?” Drachen asked, looking in the direction indicated.

“The… airstrip,” Georg replied with a slight stumble over the strange word, standing up. “The intersection between the indicator and the airstrip. That’s where it is buried.”

The elementals set out in a jog, ignoring heat and dry surroundings as they went. Their inhuman constitutions were surfacing more and more, increasing their physical capacities with each passing day, or so it seemed. Finally, they reached the point Georg had indicated, and the earth elemental went down on his knees again as his hands dug into the desert floor.

He retrieved a small wooden box, almost identical to the one found in the Sphinx. He handed the box to Drachen, who whispered the exact same spell Friedrich had whispered in Egypt. The box opened.

A man appeared, dressed in royal linens, just like the others. Only, this person wore a headdress constructed of the finest feathers the foursome had ever seen, the feathers shining gold, red, blue and green in the sun’s rays. “You have awakened the Station in the West,” the figure intoned. “Who are you, and what is your purpose?”

“We are the elementals,” Drachen stated calmly. “And our purpose is knowledge.”

The figure cocked his head then, studying them with a gaze that seemed to penetrate their very souls. The figure paled slightly. “You have been reborn, then,” he stated, a lot calmer than the Elementals would have thought him to answer. “How much time has passed?”

“About twelve thousand years, give or take a century,” Drachen answered calmly.

“Twelve thousand years…” the figure whispered, surveying the surroundings. “This has indeed changed a lot.” He looked back at the Elementals. “What purpose have you, awakening this Station?” he asked once more.

“As we said, our purpose is knowledge,” Drachen replied calmly. “We wish to know everything that transpired in Atlantis, in our previous lives.”

“That is too dangerous,” the figure with the royal feathers said, turning away, ready to disappear once more.

“We already have two parts,” Friedrich said, finally stepping in on the conversation. “It is a lot more dangerous to leave us like this.” He stepped up to the figure, and put a hand on his shoulder, not surprised when it went right through the ghostly apparition. “We only wish to know what happened… se we can avoid the same mistakes, and protect humanity as it regains that which it lost with the fall of the Island Nation of Atlantis.”

The figure sighed. “You already remember the true name… and you have gained enough knowledge to decode the message on the desert flats…” he turned around. “Very well. I shall give you the third part. But remember, there is still one more station you must find.”

“We already have North and South, and since you’re West, I’m sure it’s East,” Drachen replied with a small smile.

“When North and South have already decreed you worthy, then who am I to object?” the Western Station replied with a small, yet brave, smile. “Indeed, East in your last station… then you will have all the knowledge of the INA. And that is where the final secrets will be revealed to you.”

With those words, the figure vanished, and the box slammed shut. Mere seconds later, the Atlantean Elementals were once more thrown back as the knowledge transfer slammed into them.

Friedrich saw… Petras… his former self… training. Training in the military, before becoming an Elemental. His youth. Growing up in Atlantis. His school. His teachers… all of them… his classmates. His intelligence that drove him to be the best. Gaps were filled in. He now knew everything up until a certain point. Last he remembered, they were given orders to go to the unconventional special forces.

Friedrich opened his eyes. “We’ll continue traveling west. Closer that way,” he stated calmly as he stood up.

“Yes, sir,” Heinrich stated. “Welcome back, Colonel.”

“Good to be back,” Friedrich said with a nod to his friend and subordinate. “But times have changed… I will forego the rank of Colonel and the name Petras.”

“Agreed, sir,” Heinrich and Georg stated.

Drachen nodded. “Good idea, sir. Humanity no longer has our ranking system in their armed forces. It would only confuse them. From now on, we are merely Friedrich, Drachen, Heinrich and Georg.”

Friedrich nodded, and turned to look at the west. “That is where we must go…” he pointed his finger dead ahead, and whispered something. His hand lit up, jerking his arm a couple of degrees further south. “Precisely there.”

The three others nodded, and started walking. “I wonder what happened after those orders,” Heinrich said as they were well underway.

“I wonder what the unconventional special forces are,” Friedrich whispered in reply, looking at Drachen.

“I don’t know either… I draw a blank after those orders, and the shattering of the crystal tablet,” he replied.

“Her Majesty Elisheva, Slayer of Demons, Protector of the Innocent,” Friedrich whispered. “That name is so familiar… where have I heard it before?”

The three others shrugged, drawing blanks as well.

Only hours later, the four running Elementals reached the Pacific Ocean. Friedrich spread out shi hands, and barked out a teleportation spell. Their boat, hidden safely in the rainforest on the other side of South America, teleported instantly to the Pacific.

“We shall now cross the Great Ocean,” Friedrich said as they climbed on board. “On to the location of the Eastern Station of Atlantis.”

Heinrich spread his arms, and summoned wind to carry them. Soon, the boat was going a nice twenty knots, precisely in the direction Friedrich indicated. “The distance looks to put us smack in the middle of the Great Ocean,” Friedrich stated when they were well underway. “I wonder what is there… in Atlantean days, the island in the center of the ocean was not inhabited…”

“Te-Pito-o-Te-Henua,” Drachen whispered. “The navel of the world.”

The other three nodded slowly as they stared out over the sea, now flashing by under influence of Heinrich’s wind.

 

“Okay… this time we have another problem,” Drachen whispered as he looked over the island. “Which one is it?” he asked as he looked up to one of the huge stone faces present on the island dubbed ‘the navel of the world’ since Atlantean times. (a/n: the island has been called ‘the navel of the world’ by the indigenous people.)

Friedrich was standing under a second stone face, this one looking out over the island instead of over the sea, like the one Drachen was studying. “The natives copied Atlantean buildings, just like the other monuments we saw...”

“Except for Stonehenge,” Georg replied.

“They copied Stonehenge in other parts of Britain and France,” Friedrich replied calmly as he stepped away from the face he had been studying. “Let’s see if we can’t get a clearer reading…” he drew the magic circle in the sand, and cast the spell. The arrow pointed dead ahead… before changing direction, and pointing to the right… then turning insanely, indicating half a dozen more directions before dispelling.

“Georg, Heinrich, do you feel anything?” Friedrich then asked, turning to the Earth and Air Elementals, respectively. Both brothers closed their eyes, and focused. Georg pushed his hands on the ground, not bothering to kneel, just leaning over. Heinrich floated slightly into the air, levitating on a cushion of Heavy Air. Both returned to normal mere seconds later, shaking their heads.

Friedrich bit off an Atlantean curse. Over the course of their voyage across the Great Ocean, he had found it increasingly difficult not to speak in Atlantean, now that the knowledge had reinstated it as his mother tongue. He forced himself to keep to the contemporary tongue. It certainly wouldn’t do to have some of the present day people hear him speak Atlantean.

“What happened to this island, anyway? If I recall correctly, this used to be one big forest,” Heinrich asked, semi out-loud.

“Creating these statues would have taken a lot of wood… rollers to displace the statue, as well as scaffolding to hew out the faces,” Drachen replied. “They built themselves out of wood.”

Friedrich shook his head. “Let’s see if we can’t find some natives… maybe their legends can help us. The entire island is covered with statues. We can’t investigate them all.”

Drachen nodded along with the other two, and the four elementals set out to find some of the local natives, in hopes of finding which statue was the correct one.

Two hours later, they fled back to their arrival point. None of the local myths and legends were helpful, but that wasn’t what they were running for. No, what they were running for was some other myth. The myth that one day, a savior was going to come and deliver them. And now the local people had gotten it in their heads that at least one of the Elementals was a savior.

“Being worshipped may be fun, but it would be changing these people’s lives forever,” Friedrich grunted as they sunk in the safety of their boat. The other three nodded in agreement.

“That’s why we’re the Illuminati, sworn to protect from the shadows,” Drachen grunted. He turned to Friedrich. “But I do have to say that that is one plan that is growing beyond what it was intended.”

Friedrich chuckled. “I can’t wait to get the last part. I want to know what happened… and who knows what happened to us in those Unconventional Special Forces?”

“One of them knows,” Heinrich grunted, motioning for the island with the statues with his head. “But they’re not talking…”

“We’ll get them to talk, Heinrich. We’ll get them to talk,” Friedrich whispered. “After dark, when we can sneak back on shore.”

“Agreed,” the other three replied instantly, warily throwing a look over the edge of the ship to shore, where they knew the natives to be looking for them.

After nightfall, the four Elementals got back to shore, using the cover of darkness to their fullest extent thanks to Heinrich casting a heavy cloud cover, obscuring even the tiniest light from moon and stars. The Elementals, however, could see almost perfectly. For them, it was dim, not dark, thanks to some heavily enforced senses.

“Question remains… which one is it?” Georg asked after they had safely come ashore.

Friedrich looked up at the stone giants. “It must be identifiable somehow…” the Fire Elemental whispered. “Let’s explore the statues first. The entire island is covered with them… we’ve only seen these four. Maybe one of them stands out.”

The other three shrugged, before nodding in agreement and following their leader over the island.

Te-Pito-o-Te-Henua was a large island, and it took them half the night to look at every statue. And, as luck would have it, barely a dozen meters from where they had come ashore both times, stood a statue, built against a hill. It was not the largest, not be a long shot. But what was strange about it was the fact that it had glowing white eyes.

“That isn’t stone that’s found here…” Drachen whispered, standing on his tones to look into the statue’s eyes. He drew pale. “That… those… are Unias Crystals.”

“They’re what?” Friedrich whispered in a shout. “UNIAS?”

Drachen nodded. “No doubt about it. These crystals have been here, active, for the last 12,000 years, fed by the light of the rising sun!”

Friedrich swallowed. “How do we activate it?”

Drachen reached out and touched the crystals. Nothing happened. So, he investigated the rest of the statue. Finally, he found something whose shape he recognized. Or rather, he found two somethings.

So he stood up, grabbed one crystal, and pulled. Without effort, the crystal gave way, dropping into his hand. He withdrew the second one just as easily. Without losing time, he knelt down again, and placed the crystals in two identical eye-sockets he had found at the base of the statue, right there where the statue met the hill, barely accessible.

The empty eye-sockets in the statue’s head lit up again, and two beams of light shot out, combining into the final figure. A woman again, just like at Stonehenge, this one was dressed in a white garment that resembled a thick insulating coat of some kind. The four recognized the garment: the coat of a Crystal Scientist in ancient Atlantis.

“Activation on the Eastern Statue initiated,” the figure stated. “Enter the reason.”

The four Elementals hadn’t been suspecting such a… scientific answer. For a few seconds, they looked at each other, unable to determine what to say. Finally, Drachen shrugged and turned to the figure. “Knowledge,” he stated.

“Knowledge,” the figure repeated. “Knowledge in what area?”

“Everything,” Drachen replied. “Twelve millennia have passed. Atlantis lay forgotten. We wish to make sure its knowledge never dies down.”

“The world has progressed to the point where Atlantis’ knowledge may once more be useful?” the figure asked.

“We wish for its lessons not be forgotten… the mistakes may not be repeated.”

The figure rested for a few seconds, studying Drachen and the Elementals. “You are no ordinary travelers. Who are you?”

“We are the Elementals,” Drachen replied calmly. They expected the outburst to come now.

Instead, the figure was silent for a while. The elementals waited its judgment. “How far have you traveled?” she asked.

“From North, to South, to West, to East,” Drachen replied calmly. “We are almost ready; we almost have the completed knowledge.”

The figure once more lapsed into silence. “You will not complete your quest here,” the figure stated finally. “You will receive the remainder of the knowledge up until a certain point… there will be approximately 0.5% withheld. You will be required to travel to Poseidopolis. There, amidst the destruction of INA, you will gain that which you seek.”

With those words, the female disappeared, slamming knowledge into their minds as she did.

The Brunette again… a name? Elisheva… she’s Elisheva…Elisheva, her Imperal Majesty, Slayer of Demons, Protector of the Innocent… that’s her… More images slammed into Friedrich’s mind as the entire story flooded back into his mind. The demons, the hunting, the training, the super-advanced technology.

Their relationship.

Her warmth as he held her at night, on their lunar base. Their walks under the observation dome, illuminated by the starlight only. The injury at the hand of the Fire Demon. That week it took her to regain her strength, the week that he and his fellow Elementals took over her job.

And a mission they were sent on to stop two Fire Demons. And that was where it stopped.

Friedrich’s eyes opened, sick with worry. “What happened to her?” he whispered hoarsely.

“We don’t know either,” Drachen replied coldly. “The sooner we get to Atlantis, the better.”

Friedrich nodded. “The ancient magics of Atlantis… I can feel them.”

“We all can,” Heinrich replied. “The knowledge has returned to us.”

Friedrich glanced at his three companions. “I need to get to Atlantis… I need to know.”

“We all do,” Georg replied. “Believe me, Colonel Petras… we all do.” He shook his head. “Sorry. Friedrich.”

Friedrich let a small smile decorate his lips. “Power of Wind and Dimension, hear the call of the Leader of Elements. I implore you to move us to there where we desire to go.”

A thunderclap spread out through the darkness of the unnatural night Heinrich had created earlier. The ground on the navel of the world shook as Atlantean magics resurrected from their graves. Sand was thrown up as wind picked up. Another thunderclap signaled the spell’s culminating power. Even though it was supposed to be dark, flashes of lightning cast ghostly shadows across the eerie spectacle of the four elementals Knights reopening magic doors closed millennia earlier.

Another humongous thunderclap later, the four were gone, and the deck of clouds slowly dissipated as Heinrich was teleported beyond its reach.

The foursome reappeared in the middle of an ice flat, dressed in the clothes required for the subtropical climate of Te-Pito-O-Te-Henua.

“Well, this is nippy,” Georg commented calmly as he rubbed his naked suntanned arms as he looked around the large flat of ice that covered everything in sight.

“It is,” Friedrich stated calmly, not bothering to rub his own naked arms. Georg stopped rubbing his, and shrugged. “This is the place,” Friedrich went on, not noticing his comrade’s following of his example.

“It really is,” Drachen stated. “I can feel the earth beneath the ice sheet. It’s many kilometers thick, but there is earth beneath. And something else as well… feels like crystal.”

“Would it really…?” Friedrich asked. “Could something really have survived?”

Drachen shrugged. “Crystal doesn’t degenerate with time. That was the strength of Atlantean designs… solid state. Nothing moved. No wear and tear. And crystals are inert. They don’t change their structure of time… or, at least, well-built ones don’t.”

Friedrich looked up at the air. “I’m going to melt off the ice. We need to get to Atlantis… to Poseidopolis…”

The other three nodded, understanding their leader’s hurry. They felt it themselves. They needed to know… what happened on that mission where their knowledge timed out? It was close to the end of their previous lives… East had said it was barely 0.5% of the whole knowledge deposit.

Drawing a deep breath, Friedrich spread his arms wide over his head, before opening his eyes. The three others swallowed when fireballs were visible in their leader’s gray eyes. “Phoenix of Fire, heed my call…” A red glow spread around his body. When he threw himself forward, arms flailing so hands could touch flat on the ice, it was as if fiery afterimages were left with the speed of movement.

“… burn this icy away!” he finished, hands glowing fiercely s his energy radiated out over the surface of the ice, flowing away like water, drawing sigils on the icy ground, forming what soon developed into a humongous magic circle, many kilometers in diameter. When the circle was formed completely, Friedrich growled and the Phoenix appeared in ghostly apparition floating over the hunched leader of the Elementals.

The next moment, Phoenix and magic circle vanished, and a huge firestorm exploded from Friedrich’s position, literally vaporizing the billions of cubic meters of densely compacted ice. An ice sheet that had taken 12,000 years to form was negated by a single act of pure will and Elemental fury in half a minute worth of time.

The three elementals that had looked on and suffering no ill effects whatsoever… the Phoenix had been firmly under Friedrich’s control, and its sole target had been the ice, and nothing but the ice.

When the flash of brighter-than-sunlight had died down, they all opened their eyes, and found themselves on the Grand Square of Poseidopolis. All around them, crystalline buildings lay in ruin, forgotten by time just the way they had been left twelve millennia earlier. But the four Elementals looked not at the destruction of the INA’s glorious capital.

They looked instead at the huge statue erected in the middle of the square.

It represented a demon or devil of some kind, and stood high among the ruins of Poseidopolis. Totally black in color, the crystal structure had an unnatural appearance, one that struck fear in the hearts of the Elementals that gazed upon it. This was a statue of warning, constructed by artists that refused to leave the doomed capital, even as their city was being overrun by ice and Antarctic torments.

In its base, one on each direction, stood the four Elemental swords, placed there as either a warning, or as a place of safekeeping should the Elementals ever arise.

Friedrich beat down his fear, and walked up to the Sword of Fire. Drachen walked to Water, and only then did the two brothers join in, walking to their own Swords. None of them had the courage to draw his from the statue.

They exchanged glances, and as one, they placed their hands on the hilt of their Swords, and withdrew.

Friedrich screamed as the final images were engraved upon his mind. Elisheva fighting. Elisheva dying. His scream became a howl, loud, and full of darkness, when he saw Elisheva being burned.

 

Merlin’s view-well exploded mere moments after it had produced the primal scream. The wizard looked up to where the boiling water had put a hole through his roof, to the night sky, which was now lighting up. “May the Great Being forgive me…”

 

Stonehenge activated once again, the Lady looking up at the lighting sky. “Did I err by allowing them to walk this path?” the woman asked herself, miserably.

 

Deep under the Sphinx, the Pharaoh Kufu braced himself against the tremors of the Earth. “By Amon… what have I done?”

 

In Nazca, present day Peru, the Ancient Aviator also looked up at the skies. “It has been done…” sadly, he closed his eyes, and looked at the ground pounding beneath his feet, as if it were the heart of a living creature. “… the Great Being forgive us all.”

 

Finally, Te-Pito-O-Te-Henua, present day Easter Island, the ancient Crystal Scientist watched the sea boil. “Whatever happens now… it was meant to be.”

 

Poseidopolis, Antarctic Continent. In the square of the ancient capital, four beings were engulfed in energies of different colors, eyes glowing in conjunction with their energy signatures. Growling in pure anger, the four beings were fighting not only their rage but also the beasts within them, screaming for blood against the indignity.

Finally, slowly, inexorably, the energies died down… and the four beings erected themselves.

“By the Great Being… what have we done…?” Friedrich whispered, sinking to his knees. “I destroyed the world…”

“We all did,” Drachen whispered, correcting Friedrich. “We all helped. We are all equally responsible…”

“What a downer,” Heinrich grunted, pounding his fist on the frozen ground on the square. “We’re the ones responsible for the destruction of the world… I didn’t want to believe it… but it’s true… we destroyed the world.”

“We lost control,” Georg whispered in turn. “They destroyed her legacy… the legacy of the finest warrior in the INA… and we destroyed them in return.”

Friedrich looked up. “Never again…” he whispered. “Never again can we let this happen. We must make sure that humanity doesn’t make the same mistakes… we can not let humanity create other fusions such as ourselves. We must train ourselves to keep ourselves composed, and we must protect humanity from itself!”

“Illuminati,” Drachen said, lifting his hand. The other three came around, and placed their hands on top of Drachen’s. “Illuminati,” they renewed their vows.

Half an hour later, the foursome had composed enough that they were able to wander through the destroyed city. The weather was behaving nicely, and thanks to the lack of snowstorms, the city remained clear of excess snow long enough for them to wander through it.

Finally, Friedrich’s eye fell on something. “Hey… is that what I think it is?”

“I doubt it still works,” Drachen replied. “Even if its Unias Crystal still works, it won’t do anything with the main crystal on the mountain destroyed.”

Friedrich grinned anyway, and stepped in the booth. In perfect Atlantean, he restated the order that had started it all over twelve thousand years ago. “Computer, emergency access, Colonel Petras of the Elemental Project. Under act 1 of the Emergency Special Forces Act, I demand access to the black projects map of the city.”

The booth sputtered, the crystal display flickering off and on, before finally dying completely.

“Told you,” Drachen replied evenly.

Friedrich wasn’t to be deterred so easily. “We know this Unias Crystal still works. All we need to do is charge it… it hasn’t been near a lay line, or seen the sun for over twelve thousand years.” He exited the booth, and looked at the roof of the small building, where he saw the dull sight of an empty Unias Crystal. He whispered a spell, and threw an energy ball at it. The crystal sputtered, not really wanting to work again after twelve millennia. Finally it did what it was supposed to do, and came to life.

Smiling, Friedrich threw another energy ball at it, and this time it was being absorbed without hesitation. The other three, seeing what he was doing, joined in until the crystal was shining as bright as the sun on midday. “Fully charged,” Drachen said. “But it’s not smart to use it… what if we’re going where I think you want us to go, and this thing runs out of power? We won’t be able to get back.”

Friedrich nodded. “You’re right…” He looked up at the mountain that had once again become visible with the melting of the ice on top and around of the city. “But now we know something we didn’t know then.”

“Really?” Drachen asked, suddenly a light dawning as Friedrich started drawing on the icy ground. An Alchemy circle!

Friedrich channeled a perfectly fine Unias Crystal from the ground, before teleporting it to the top of the mountain. A bright beam of pure white energy connected the booth directly to the new power grid. “I located it directly over the lay line… it’s got perpetual energy from the Earth’s own energy grid,” Friedrich said with a grin.

Drachen shook his head as they all piled back into the transporter booth. “Computer, emergency access, Colonel Petras of the Elemental Project. Under act 1 of the Emergency Special Forces Act, I demand access to the black projects map of the city,” Friedrich stated once again.

Colonel Petras. Authorization accepted. The machine replied, still replying as it did in Atlantean days. Captain Vitar. Lieutenant Guntar. Private Soman. Authorizations locked. Booth now known as booth forty-nine gamma.

“Transport us to Gamma Site.”

Gamma site receiver damaged. Boosting gain and output. Relocating directly from this location’s power source.

The four vanished, only to appear in perfect darkness. Once more, Friedrich channeled a flame from his Elemental self, so the foursome could see.

“All power is down,” Drachen whispered sadly, not liking the staleness of 12,000 year-old air. “We’ll need to get that working first.”

“Looks like this was abandoned in a hurry,” Friedrich whispered as they pressed to the power control room. Everywhere were discarded items, scattered around, forgotten in the occupant’s rush to evacuate the building.

“They never did get a chance to return,” Georg whispered sadly.

“Here we are,” Drachen said on his low tone as he pushed open the door to a room situated in the depths of the Atlantean Moon Base. After looking around, pushing buttons for a good ten minutes, he decided the place was dead, and the Unias feed was probably to blame.

Ten minutes after that, the foursome would have been in the observation dome, where the Unias crystal was located for easy access. Being inside the base would have made it easier to access, without the need for spacesuits. However, the room was sealed off… the last thing the computer of the base had done was block the door as the atmosphere vanished from the observation dome.

“It’s been struck by a meteor. Just our luck,” Drachen grunted. “We have to get the door open to fix the Unias, but first we have to fix the Unias before we can get the door open.”

Heinrich, having explored a bit by himself, returned with something in his hands. “Hey guys… remember this?”

“Crystal armor,” Friedrich whispered reverently. Looking from the armor to his companion, he asked,” Where did you find this? And, more importantly, are ours still there as well?”

Heinrich pointed behind him. “Armory. And I think so… tell you what. While you go get yours, I’ll put mine on, blast through this door, and fix the Unias. What do you think?”

“Wait until we’re in the armory,” Drachen said. “We may be Elementals, but I doubt even we can survive in a total vacuum.”

Heinrich nodded, and started putting on his armor. By the time he had everything in working order, and the suit had charged itself off his life’s energy, he was sure that the others had entered the armory and sealed the door.

Drawing in the fresh air of the suit’s conditioning plant, Heinrich relaxed as he focused his magic. With his fingertip, he drew something on the sealed door. Sign of destruction, he thought silently.

The door exploded.

Smiling, the elemental knight walked into the observation dome… or what was left of it. The Unias crystal had shattered under the impact of a small meteorite… one that had shattered the dome as well before smashing the base’s power supply to bits. Thankful for the fact that the entire moon base was built of crystal, Heinrich summoned a new Unias Crystal through Alchemy, replacing the shattered crystal with a new one.

Immediately, it started drawing in stellar energy, and by the time his friends joined him, the base’s computers had started up. He could even see the force field sealing the observation dome. Smiling, he lifted his helmet off his head, followed by the others.

For long minutes, they drew in deep gulps of reconstituted air. “This place will need a lot to fix up,” Drachen whispered.

Friedrich nodded. “Yep.”

“But it makes an ideal base to observe humanity from…”

“Yep,” Friedrich said, nodding again, grinning. “But first we wait until the self-healing crystal seals the dome and repairs that door.”

Drachen nodded in agreement. “And then we start our job of protecting humanity.”

Friedrich chuckled. “First we make sure that the booth on Earth is somewhere safe… preferably in the Duchess’ Mug. Then we start protecting humanity.”

 

The End.

 

It’s finally done! WOOHOO!! J