Albac: Awakening Chapter 2 - The Elders, a misc. books fanfic

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Chapter 2: The Elders

There was a black altar with unique properties in the center of an ancient, spacious room. The altar was built from obsidian, a volcanic rock. The altar had been infused with magic from each generation of Elders, which dated back several millennia. This allowed the altar to be used as a medium through which high-grade spells could be amplified. One such example was the protective barrier which was maintained around the building. The altar was called Obsidiaz, named after the material used to craft it.

Surrounding the altar was an intricate white magic circle drawn onto the floor. The circle contained four smaller circles inscribed within, one for each Elder, through which magic was funneled into the altar. Elders used this space to carry out their cooperative rituals, such as the protective barrier. Each corner of the square-shaped room contained a torch, which was not currently lit. The room was a place where the four Elders would gather here to discuss important matters, mostly using it to address issues in times of chaos. Aside from Elders and their leader, no one was permitted to enter the room. Each Elder had a ring which granted them access to the room, otherwise they would not be able to enter. The only exception to this rule was if a person was a descendant of the old, ancient bloodline of Myfius.

The Myfius were once known as the strongest warlocks, beings which were capable of subduing and controlling powerful demons at will. Not only could they summon demons, but they were also fluid in using magic as well. At their peak, each member of the Myfius easily surpassed the current Elders. However, that bloodline was thought to have died out a long time ago when the warlocks had simply vanished.

There was a small balcony with rails, which looked over the room. In it, there was a majestic throne which faced the room. The throne was composed of a golden frame, the seat cushioned by red silk. The armrests had ruby and sapphire jewels embedded into the sides in an alternating pattern.

There were many secrets held within this room. The room contained a bookshelf, which held old scrolls and books. Some of these contained history, while others taught high-grade spells or combat techniques. Some were considered highly dangerous and were shackled shut, not intended to be discovered. There was a door leading to another room, but it had not been opened in centuries and no one knew what it contained, not even the Elders. There emitted an ominous aura from the room, possibly related to black magic. It was said that the room was used by the Myfius at one point. Next to the door stood an old, brown grandfather clock.

The Elders were individuals who had reached the peak of their craft and were deemed to be the strongest within Myrei. Elders were usually of noble lineage, but there had been some exceptions over the centuries. A person was considered of noble lineage if they came from a family which was well established in Myrei and had great power or influence.

Myrei was a society of magic which had existed for several millennia, and was initially created to protect Obsidiaz. Myrei was disguised as a modern-day business building which functioned as an office space in the heart of Boston. It provided a safe-haven for individuals who had the potential to surpass normal humans and wished to learn how to use their powers. It also served to fight against Dysta during times of calamity. Dysta was the dark society which delved into black magic and used ruthless methods to obtain what they wanted. They initially held no power and posed no threat, but during the past millennia they had increased their reach to all parts of the world and now rivalled or surpassed Myrei. Like Myrei, they had individuals with immense power. There were a lot of people who were a part of either organization and they blended in with normal humans.

The clock chimed as the hour changed to 11 pm. Four robed figures materialized, each appearing from one corner of the room. The four torches lit up, casting dim light around the room, as the four individuals walked towards the center of the room. They stood near the altar, facing the balcony.

"It seems as if the time has come," said the first Elder, pulling his robe off. The tall, ape-looking man sported athletic gear. His dark brown hair was slicked back. He was Zavius Mistle, a man who had risen up against all the odds to become an Elder. Zavius was an ordinary human with no trace of a noble lineage, and was the youngest Elder. In fact, he was just as ordinary as a regular person in most aspects. What distinguished him was his brute strength, which greatly transcended mortal strength. By learning just a bit of magic, he could face anyone, usually overpowering individuals physically. His weapon of choice was a giant, wide sword slung across his back. Within society, he worked as construction supervisor.

"The necromancer has gotten out of hand and needs to be dealt with soon," said the second Elder, also pulling her robe off. The woman wore a pink skirt with a white blouse, clearly confident in herself and her beauty. Her brunette hair flowed down her back, reaching halfway down her back. She was as pretty as a flower, easily capable of charming any man. Ceyma Grodus, who came from a noble lineage. Her looks and physique were second to none, but she was just as deadly. While she lacked in physical strength, she specialized in using both offensive and defensive magic. She incorporated poison into her toolkit as well, enhancing it with magic. She worked as the secretary for the building used by Myrei.

"He's getting bolder every day, and sacrificing more people," said the third Elder as she tugged off her robe. She wore jeans with an oversized shirt, sporting a red blazer over her shirt. Her dark red hair was a bit shorter than Ceyma's, stopping a bit past her shoulders. Tyrin Bolien, who was also from a noble lineage. Perched on her right shoulder was a small red bird. She specialized in using animals to fight, amplifying them through magic. She worked as a pet tamer within the local zoo.

"We don't have enough people to take him on," said the fourth elder who had opted to keep his hood on. He specialized in in combat just like the first Elder, but he was also highly adept at using magic. Of the four Elders, he was undoubtedly the strongest and had been an Elder for the longest span of time. He was granted the title of Great Elder, which formally distinguished him as the second strongest individual within Myrei.. On his left hip, there was a polished leather scabbard which contained a sword forged from mynthil. Mynthil was titanium which had been infused with high grade magic. This material could be used to forge countless weapons such as swords, daggers, and chains. Weapons forged from this material were thought to be incapable of breaking. However, it took someone as skilled as an Elder to be able to create the material. It was extremely rare that anyone possessed this material and skill, and currently only the fourth Elder wielded a weapon made from mynthil.

The necromancer was a bespectacled man who specialized in necromancy. He appeared out of nowhere a few years ago, and was a part of Dysta. He was highly skilled, on par with Elders. Necromancy is part of black magic, and it was thought that the teaching of it had long since disappeared. Necromancy involves communicating with the dead and being able to raise the dead as well, controlling them at will. Due to its twisted nature of controlling a body against its will, just like a puppet, it was a forbidden magic which was thought to have been lost centuries ago.

To make matters worse, the necromancer had made an advancement in necromancy. He was now able to kill individuals and immediately bind their souls forcibly to their body. This allowed the body to function fluidly, as if it was still alive. It also preserved the unique abilities and magic that the individuals may have possessed during their lifetime. They were forced to do as the necromancer wished. The necromancer had been hunting those with unique abilities and killing them to make a personal army. However, this wasn't the extent of the necromancer's pervasive acts. Through research and experimentation, he found that eliminating those who were important to his puppets would cause the souls agony and despair. This would cause an influx in magic in the puppets, empowering them. If that wasn't bad enough, the necromancer would command the puppets to kill those who were close to them, which agonized the souls much more, thus strengthening them further.

"Oh, is the Great Elder afraid of him?" asked Zavius, smirking some. His right hand reached back, gripping the handle of his sword. "Maybe it's time for you to give up the title of Great Elder to me."
"Stop, Zavius," said Ceyma, clearly annoyed. "Just because you're an Elder, you shouldn't forget your place. Especially since you aren't of noble lineage."

"What are you trying to say?" asked Zavius, his voice cold. His face was a bit red, angry at her comment. He drew his sword from his back, pointing it towards her. "Say that again."

"Oh, are you deaf now? I guess a ruffian like you is too stupid to understand what I said," said Ceyma, pulling a dagger in each hand from her sleeves. The daggers were coated with a green liquid, a poisonous substance.

"You've said too much, Ceyma," said Zavius as he lunged towards her.

Ceyma placed her daggers together, forming an X to block the sword as Zavius moved towards her.

"Zygo Oris" mumbled the forth Elder as he stepped between both, a yellow light emitting from his form. His right hand held his sword, deflecting Zavius's sword. His left hand held his scabbard, blocking Ceyma's daggers. "This isn't a place for your egos."

"Don't interfere, old man," snarled Zavius as he pulled his sword back.

"That is enough," boomed a voice, radiating from the balcony. Marz Litefell, who was referred to as The King, had reached the pinnacle of modern day power and wisdom a couple of centuries ago. He was a man of mystery and it was unclear how old he was. No one had seen his face, since it remained covered with the hood of his robe. His most distinguishing feature, which could be seen, was his long, white beard which trailed to his chest. A heavy, suffocating pressure was felt in the now silent room as the lights flickered briefly. The Elders, aside from the Great Elder, were visibly shaken.

"If either of you wish to continue, then you'll answer to me," said Marz, his voice piercing through the silence. He was clearly not amused at the situation.

Both Zavius and Ceyma hastily put away their weapons, not wanting to draw any more attention from him.

"Now, onto the matter at hand," began Marz. "As you all noticed earlier, there was a surge of magic activity here in Boston. At the same time, that room over there also resonated," he said, pointing to the mysterious room. "The surge of magic power happened slightly after one of the necromancer's puppets had attempted to kill a boy who was unfortunate enough to encounter him. Fortunately for us, the Great Elder had already sent Semphlora Wesley to guard the boy."

"Why should we care about a random boy dying?" asked Zavius, clearly not interested.

"You were also a normal boy," said Ceyma.

"Tomorrow marks the boy's 21st birthday and as you can feel, the room beyond the locked door resonated with him," continued Marz, silencing them again. "That room is our only link to the Myfius family," said Marz, gazing at the ominous room. "We must try to bring him to our side, if we want to stand a chance against Dysta."

"Who is the boy that you are talking about?" asked Tyrin.

"Albac Liston, brother of Serein Liston," replied Marz.

There was a sharp intake of air from all the Elders as they shook their heads in disbelief.
"Surely you jest. We had never heard of her having a relative. You don't really expect someone who may have the cursed blood of the Myfius to be a part of us" said Ceyma with distaste.

"They were born from the same father, but different mothers," said Marz.

"I'm with Ceyma. Serein has proved to be competent and a great help, but how can you be so sure that he may be related to the Myfius?" asked Tyrin, nodding at Ceyma.

"The strong flux of magic was similar to the one which the Myfius family was capable of, and the reaction from the room is proof," said Marz.

"But he hasn't had any training and hasn't even awakened yet," said the Great Elder, shaking his head. "He hasn't even received an arisad yet."

Arisad was the small clear stone which individuals used to channel their magic through. It was required for most, unless they'd either fused with the stone or grown powerful enough that they could control their magic without the aid of the stone. There were various different qualities of arisad, with the better ones costing quite a bit. The could be placed into weapons as well, as long as the weapon had a socket in which the stone could be placed.

"I've penned a letter that will explain a bit of our world," said Marz.

"And what if he refuses?" asked the Great Elder.

"Send him the letter and stone, it will be up to him what he wants to do. We won't force him. And don't tell Serein. I don't want her to influence him in his choice," he said, tossing an envelope onto the altar.

"I will personally deliver the envelope to his place," said the Great Elder as he reached onto the alter and picked up the envelope, placing it in a pocket within his robes.

"All of you should prepare to fight soon, danger is coming much sooner than we thought," said The King, concluding the meeting.