The year is 2017 , 15 years after the magician John Mandrake saved the whole of Britain. However, the future of Britian looks bleak once again and Nathaniel isn't here to save it. Demons are no longer constricted by the ancient laws of magic, and humans are born with the ability to wield magic. One man, or should I say, boy is on the quest to restore that equilibrium with help from your favourite djinni of course. R&R please everyone!
The ground shook with the force of a miniature lightning storm. Three bolts descended from a murderous looking cloud onto the cobblestones below, coalesced together and formed a shape which solidified into a recognizable shape though it still gave of the odd spark every now and then.
An eagle with three legs sat calmly in the pentacle. The pentacle in which the afrit occupied is connected to a larger pentacle , within it , stood the figure of a youth , though difficult to make out in the semi darkness. The magician looked young, fourteen years at the most, but he gave off an unmistakable aura of power. The afrit glanced around himself ,his eagle eye noted several things at once. One, this was not a conventional summoning chamber, which all the magicians were so fond of using. The pentacle seems to have been drawn out , in the middle of an alley? It looked to be in a commoners part of town. The eagle checked out each plane. Yep, hardly any magic around. Almost deserted too, by the looks of it. The afrit sniffed the air, definitely London, he could smell the pollution quite distinctly. That and the fact that the city had all the atmosphere of a morgue. The sky had a grayish tinge the color of snot and clouds hung low in the sky. He now turned his gaze towards his master in the larger pentacle . Oh well, wherever he was, he intended to finish his task quickly and return to the Other Place. He then spoke in a booming voice " Name your desire, master, and it shall be done" The youth remained silent, with his gaze downwards. With sudden speed , he looked at the afrit straight in the eye . The afrit felt a slight chill go through him as brilliant green eyes appraised him from behind a veil of black hair. "I charge you, " spoke the magician , with a voice as cold and sharp as a frozen knife , " to go beyond the boundaries of your pentacle."
The afrit stared. Not at the magician mind, but at the runes encircling his pentacle , the Shackles of Zarbustibal and Vixel Chain boded ill. Was this guy some sort of sadist? Those enchantments would incinerate him as soon as he touched the boundaries. Ok, well maybe not incinerate, but he'd get toasted anyways. He spoke imploringly" Master, perhaps you could reconsider, for I'd.." He was cut off as a bolt of lightning speared him squarely in the tailfeathers. The raven haired youth lowered a palm , "Don't make me ask twice". The afrit's eyes widened in fear. "Magic…… of a sort that hadn't been seen since millennia past" it thought desperately. The young magician looked at the afrit with his piercing green eyes, " Well, demon? You have your charge, carry it out." "Now." he added after waiting for the afrit's response for over a minute.
The afrit swallowed audibly. Those runes protecting the pentacle were no joke , some of the strongest binding spells were there . Let's see…Luna's Snare? Check . Parum Binds ? Check. Perfect ! Just what he needed to fry his essence. His master watched him with an unfaltering, icy stare. The three legged eagle stepped tentatively towards the rim of his pentacle. Strangely, he felt no magic crackle around his self. Another step. Still nothing. Emboldened by this , the eagle gingerly put one wingtip outside the pentacle. Nothing . No pain. No magical backlash . And most importantly, no smell of burning afrit. With a terrible cry of malice, the eagle swooped up and then descended upon the magician , all three talons out, fully intending to gore his master. The magician raised a palm . The ground shook for a second time, this time, with greater force than before. The street was illuminated with a green flash of light that died away as quickly as it came. The magician stood there alone, save for a pile of spilled essence that was smoking slightly, much like the palm of the magician. " It was as I feared" the mind of the magician churned in turmoil. The magician turned around and disappeared down the alley only to be swallowed by the oncoming shadows of night.