Disclaimer - I am borrowing these beautiful, magnificent characters. I hope some day to create some of my own, but for now, credit goes to Cassandra Clare for a brilliant mind and imagination. (PS Ms. Clare, if you are reading this, thank you a million times over for creating this world for my imagination to play in. I hope you like what you see.)
Chapter 3:
It was some time later that Magnus was moved again. When he first stood up he got dizzy and stumbled. He was righted on his feet rather roughly, his shoulder aching, and his not-so-gentle, obviously unwilling assistant muttered a few choice words Magnus did recognize - the equivalent to 'damnit', 'filthy' and 'warlock'.
Someone else grabbed a tight hold of his bound hands behind him and the back of his neck and shoved him a few steps forward.
All normal sound around him ceased and he was surrounded by something akin to rushing water - as if he'd somehow gotten his head underwater in rushing rapids. He even felt like he was submerged, still firmly held by his captor, and instinctively he held his breath. It was only seconds before he felt like he was thrown down to the hard ground, landing on both his knees and wincing as the grip on his neck tightened. He guessed that the man behind him wasn't quite as used to travelling through portals as he was.
During the trip, he'd lost his blindfold and upon opening his eyes he saw for a second 4 men in front of him, all soaking wet like he was, and angry. They all shouted at him in words he didn't understand, and he quickly tried to cower back and close his eyes again, hoping it was what they wanted. The tension measurably eased.
Magnus was yanked to his feet, yelping slightly from the surprise, but also because his wrist bindings were cutting into his arms sharply. They marched him forward, and he chanced a glance now and then towards his feet, but it was dark and he couldn't discern anything helpful about where he was from it. The air around him cooled and he could notice through his closed eyelids that it was gradually growing darker.
He shivered, his wet clothes clinging to him. His soaked shoes, ruined leather beauties that he'd finally managed to break in just right, were cutting into his feet and ankles, the blisters long since ruptured and now his raw ankles were becoming unbearable.
He staggered and finally collapsed to his knees again, and begged 'Please….my feet are killing me.'
He wasn't sure whether he had a sympathetic person leading him or not, but the man shoved him back onto his butt and reached down towards Magnus' ankles. Magnus braced himself for his shoes to be yanked off, everything so far hadn't been done gently, but he was surprised when the hands that touched his feet were gentle. The accompanying voice, he guessed, was female, but he wasn't chancing a glance.
The lighter voice spoke, an exasperated deeper reply came, and then the light voice replied to it firmly. The next thing Magnus knew, cool water was poured over his throbbing ankles and feet, a cloth dabbing the sores gently.
They let him rest a few moments, the barks from the men were impatient, but the female's reply was sharp.
She whispered lightly in his ear 'Better…now'
It wasn't so much a question, but Magnus thanked her. She laid a hand on his hair, a comforting gesture that implied she understood. Magnus took a chance, asking in a whisper 'Where are we going?'
She didn't answer, though she hadn't moved away from him yet. 'Please,' he persisted 'where are you taking me?'
She stood then, Magnus heard her light feet shuffle away. Then he was firmly kicked in the leg, crying out because it wasn't expected, and drawn to his feet.
They expected him to continue on in bare feet, he wondered.
When he'd sat down, the ground beneath him was rough, gravel or something similar, not soft in any case. But in fact they did, with an insistent shove to his aching shoulder, get him moving forward again shoeless.
He stumbled, the hand on his arm kept him from falling. The pathway seemed to be heading downhill, gravity pulling him along as well. It wasn't long before his feet went from excruciating, feeling cut and raw on the bottom, to numb.
He was in tears, but they kept him moving.
They obviously had somewhere to be.
When they finally let him rest, Magnus fell to the ground. He was too exhausted to do anything more than let sleep take him.
He drifted in and out of sleep, the pain in his feet reaching a peak, throbbing mercilessly. He whined in his sleep, and being in the state he was, he couldn't help it.
He could hear the others speaking to each other, and the one name in the world he loathed to ever hear, knowing nothing good could come from any association with it, mentioned a few times - Asmodeus.
Knowing his father as he did, Magnus doubted Asmodeus had anything to do with his capture, but it also didn't make him feel any better about his predicament. Magnus had avoided his father at every turn, save 2 instances where he had called on him. The only two in his entire life. Both times, he wished he hadn't.
One was just to make sure Asmodeus was actually his sire.
The other was to help save his friends from a death sentence in a realm of Hell ruled by Asmodeus. The last time, the most recent, still bothered Magnus. It had been revealed that he had things in his life that he could be tortured with - his friends. His, then, boyfriend. He knew his father wouldn't hesitate to cause Magnus pain, son or not. It was the demon-way.
Upon waking from what he felt like was a nitemare, wondering if he'd actually heard what he'd heard, Magnus was being dragged to his feet again. This time, he didn't have far to go. His wrist ties were separated from each other, his arms ached from being in the position for so long, and then they were brought out to his sides.
He felt it before he heard it, but he had two metal manacles close around his wrists. The click of the lock on them came a second after the sting. The wounds in his wrists were raw, whatever they'd used to keep him subdued had been tight enough to slice open rings around his arms.
He tried to pull his arms down, free, but he was held in place on his feet. He opened his eyes then, and saw briefly a terrifying glimpse of where they'd brought him.
The room looked like that of a church, or some place of worship. There were pillars and columns at intervals around the room, against the walls. Torches lit the room, candles were on what he assumed as an altar at one end.
A giant pentagram glowed from where it had been carved out on the floor in the centre of the room. Magnus was opposite the altar, strung up between two columns. He had never felt more like a sacrificial lamb then he did at that moment.
The others had cloaks on now, still hooded, and they were lining up around the pentagram. There were a lot more people in the chamber then he expected.
Magnus saw one with a spell book open in his hands, and he glanced towards Magnus almost as if he were going through a checklist, making sure everything was in place before he started. His robes had runes on them, though from this distance Magnus could see they were crudely drawn.
Magnus took a chance then. 'Wait..' he called out. His voice was rough and hoarse, his throat dry. 'Whatever you are summoning, please don't.'
The man with the book took a step towards him, and spoke in a tone loud enough for the rest to hear him. 'We are summoning the greatest demonic power of all time. We do not need your permission.'
'You don't know what you're doing.' Magnus tried. 'If you call on someone too powerful, he'll burn you where you stand.'
'Our lord wouldn't do that.' the man continued. 'Besides, we've brought him a gift.' He waved a hand in Magnus' direction. 'He will thank us for bringing you back to him.' The crowd murmured 'He will thank us, He will thank us….'
'What makes you think he will thank you? I'm warning you…he'll destroy you!' Magnus had no care for these people in particular, they'd been cruel to him, but he hated the idea of not giving them a warning of what would happen. 'This is your only chance to save yourselves…Don't call on him…Asmodeus doesn't care about followers.'
It was the first time he'd spoken his father's name, it caused the congregation to look up towards him.
'Don't you DARE say his name, filthy warlock. And don't presume to warn us.' the man yelled. He swung a hand towards the others in the room 'Us…his servants!'
Magnus felt the strength in his legs waivering, he was sinking towards the ground, his arms held fast by the chains. They weren't going to listen. Even if he couldn't help them, he still didn't want to face his father, especially in his weakened state.
He turned his back to Magnus then, and began to chant. The name of one of the Princes of Hell amidst the ancient words, the pentagram glowed more brightly the louder the words came from the crowd.
And then he was there. Magnus had blinked, a rather long blink from exhaustion as he hung by his arms, trying to relieve the pain in his legs and feet. In the centre of the pentagram, stood a figure Magnus knew well. Asmodeus.
The man with the book spoke to the Demon, but Asmodeus only looked through him to his son, strung up across the room.
The man tried to get Asmodeus' attention, speaking louder, stepping closer to the pentagram.
Magnus almost whimpered a last warning to him, as he saw him stepping too close. It was a second before the man's robes went up in flames. Magnus closed his eyes as the man flailed around, burning alive.
The grin on his father's face was a horror. The other's near the pentagram tried to back away, some screamed, but all seemed frozen in place. Magnus knew then, that they were frozen because Asmodeus wanted them that way. Like a cat toying with a mouse, though he had more then 20 before him here, Asmodeus waited for the flaming man to fall before glancing towards Magnus again.
'Stupid mortals….' he said. His voice carried through the room without much effort.
He looked at them all then, turning to see each and every one. 'A pentagram? Honestly?' He glanced up at Magnus, who was straining to keep his eyes open. 'One big pentagram? That is how they expect to hold me?' He laughed then, and Magnus could almost feel the twisted joy his father was feeling.
Asmodeus stepped out of the pentagram through the space the former leader had occupied in the circle. 'So…..' he started, and strangely all the robed people turned in unison to see him. "What is soooooo important? Why have you called me?'
When no one answered, he glanced at Magnus again to see if he was paying attention. 'Did you warn them, Magnus? Did you tell them they had no idea the sort of trouble they were making by even just thinking about calling on me?'
Magnus cleared his throat then as best he could. 'I tried….' he groaned.
Asmodeus looked back at the group. 'Whose idea was it to hang my son there like that?'
He waited and no one answered.
With a firmer, more menacing voice he asked louder, the air seeming to tremble in the room as he spoke 'Who thought that dragging my son here, like a dog by the looks of it, would even remotely please me?'
When no one answered again, he pointed to the largest man in the group he could see.
'You.' He said. 'Are you the brilliant one?'
The man stuttered, rising to his feet without a choice. 'My, My Lord..' he started. He glanced towards the smouldering shape on the floor a few feet from them.
'Ahh…' said the demon. 'You were following his brilliance? He thought this was good?'
The man only nodded, clearly afraid.
The demon took a step closer before continuing. The look he gave the man must have been terrifying because the man went as white as a ghost. 'He was wrong….very…very wrong.'
The second man went up in flames, the screams filled the room, and he fell a short distance from the first.
'Magnus…' Asmodeus called over to him, rousing him from his exhausted state. 'My son…I am going to show them how wrong they were. From the looks of you, they weren't very kind in taking you.' The demon looked him over, tilting his head as if considering. 'Are there any who were? Any you feel that I should spare?'
Magnus knew this game. Even if he said a name, not that he knew any, it wouldn't sway his father's decision. Feeling as awful as he did, he found he actually hated these people. These stupid, stupid people who'd thought they could just toy with a world they had no understanding of. Even if their hands hadn't harmed him, they'd watched. They knew. And none did anything to spare him the pain they'd put him through.
Magnus shook his head, his eyes were closed again and his head bowed. 'No…' he said softly.
His father heard him, and grinned. With a snap of his fingers, the robes went up in flames. Within minutes they were all dead.
Then it was just he and Magnus in the room, and the smell of charred flesh. The echoes of the screams slowly died away.
Sit back and enjoy the ride. Comments/Reviews are always welcome. Follow to make sure you know when I update!
Love, SV xxoo