Chapter 2. The Fall of the House of Blach
I'm the one you never see, in the dead of night,
Peeking in your window, staying out of sight,
Go to bed, lock the door, don't look in the mirror,
What if I was right behind you,
Smiling like a killer
(Motorhead - Smiling Like A Killer)
Kaspar Blach took a handkerchief and wiped his face yet again. Trying to catch his breath, he looked at the cupboard they hauled into the classroom – it stood slightly out of place. Still, it was a bit too late to push it in place – both Stephan and Carl already ran away and the damn thing was too heavy for Kaspar to move it by himself. To hell with it, he did what was asked of him, so now he could go home. It took an hour and a half as it was. Generally nobody cared when he returned home from school, unless it was really late – he was a grown-up, after all. Even though he would officially come of age only this spring, his family had a different outlook on this sort of thing…
He didn't go to school for the last two months – the official reason for that was severe pneumonia, his family even took time to forge all the necessary documents. Now Kaspar thought that actually having pneumonia wouldn't be such a disgusting and sickening experience as what he'd had to endure in reality. Which was the transplantation of his father's magic crest, the procedure he was being prepared for since early childhood.
Ever since the day his brother died.
It was as inevitable as it was unpleasant. Many years his parents fed or injected him various types of alchemical crap to reduce the chances of rejection. Nevertheless, those were still high. And, much to Kaspar's dismay, the procedure had some unwanted complications, which were dealt with over the course of six weeks. At the end of all that torture he acquired the family Magic Crest, which coiled around his arm like a snake. Now he was a full-fledged magus from an old and noble bloodline. Number of his circuits wasn't anything to brag about – Kaspar didn't even have the average thirty – and his elemental attunement was nothing special either: just fire and nothing else. Nobody would be impressed with that for sure. Then again, he never really wanted to stand out from the crowd – why bother? The Clock Tower would grant him everything he deserves to have solely by his birthright. Of course he'd have to leave the mundane world for a very long time and that thought made him sad. Still, Kaspar knew that home education would never be enough to achieve anything significant, let alone to leave his mark on history.
Kaspar looked at his watch once more as he went outside. He sure was late, so picking up the pace might be a good idea. Yes, his human teachers were considerate of his illness and the need to recuperate, but he couldn't expect such mercy from Maximillian Blach. His father took Kaspar's education very seriously and made every effort not to waste a single minute of his spare time. He understood, of course, that his son has the right to take a walk every so often and have a chat with people he would probably not see for a very long time, but he'd never miss an opportunity to lecture him about what is really important for a mage.
Blach was already headed for the bus stop when a familiar voice called him. He turned around and tried to come up with a reason why he would need to go home when he saw who it actually was and decided to make an exception. Ellie was half a year or thereabouts older than him and she was among the people he was actually going to miss. He liked her, but unfortunately she happened to come from a mundane lineage so he always knew just how hopeless his feelings were. The thought of it was painful, yet he understood that nothing could be done and so didn't even try to make their relationship any closer than what a magus and a human could afford to have, ridiculous as it was. His family adhered to the traditions of old through and through – he couldn't even freely cast his lot even with a magic bearer he had feelings for, let alone a member of mundane folk. For generations all marriages in his family were made only with the thought of improving the bloodline. Sometimes they even employed services of the families, who made providing promising marriage partners for magi bloodlines their business. Since childhood Kaspar knew that was fate held in stock for him as well and was content with it. He didn't want to complicate his life further by trying to resist. He saw many human girls like her and his feelings faded a little with every sighting of such kind. This one is no different, he told himself – he will forget her as soon as he leaves for London.
"I thought you already left," He said in a tired voice. "Did something happen?"
"Some guy was looking for you," Ellie replied. "He was close to grabbing me, imagine that!"
"Who are you talking about?"
"I thought you'd know," She smirked. "Blonde hair, a sharp white suit, gloves… a tall, handsome type. Looked at his golden watch all the time, by the way."
"Don't know anyone like that," Kaspar answered, stunted. "Did he say what he wanted from me?"
"He caught me on the street, asked if I was a student here. When I said "yes", he started asking about you. Sounded so impatient. Your well-being seemed to interest him a lot. Asked if you still lived at the old place."
"So did you-"
"Yeah I told him your address, so what? You think I shouldn't have?"
"Doesn't matter now anyway," Kaspar sighed. "Thanks for the heads-up. I've no idea who he was..."
"Really?" She didn't hold back the laughter. "He seemed strange. Is there something you want to tell me?"
"No." Blach was pissed off. "Thanks again and bye, I'm heading home."
"You look pale… you alright?"
"Yeah. Don't worry about me. My bus is-"
"Wait, I've just remembered something!" Kaspar was ready to run for the bus stop, but she called him again. "Last thing he said, before heading off… he said-"
"What? Sorry, I don't wanna miss the bus, make up your mind quick. – Kaspar touched his bag belt nervously.
"He was going away already, but I think I heard him saying "Time to call Abel to the fields". Some nonsense, right?"
"Sure," Kaspar exhaled, feeling cold sweat on his brow. "See you tomorrow, Ellie. Good luck."
"Hey, what if-"
But he's stopped listening to her already. He dashed across the bus stop and into the vehicle, even a little surprised by his own swiftness. In the bus, Kaspar quickly found a free seat and dropped into it.
Keep calm. It's only three stops until home. He'll get there real fast. Then – tell everything to father, he must know what's happening. Maybe it's simply one of his colleagues from the Association – so what that he hasn't worked there for who knows how long – maybe it's…
It's time to call Abel to the fields.
What… Who…
His mind was racing, confused, jumping from one thought to another. Kaspar paid for his ticked and stared outside, trying to keep the worries out of his head.
One stop was behind him, two more to go… only two more and he's home…
The evening was quiet, too quiet. Kaspar suddenly thought it would be nice to see more people in the streets – if something happened, maybe they could…
Dear lord, what is it that could happen? He can defend himself, he's a magus after all, not some sniveling human, so why does he shiver like a little kid – just like that one, who just happened to drop his ice-cream on the ground and was crying.
And near that kid…
Kaspar felt like he was about to scream.
A strange man crouched near the boy, giving him a lone banknote. Then, he stood tall and looked at the bus – no, exactly at Kaspar, whose face was pressed against the window.
He was wearing a perfectly-ironed white suit, black shoes and black tie. A watch chain was hanging from his chest pocket. Blonde hair, pale face with sharp features, somewhat resembling a rat. His thin lips were stretched in a smile, his large eyes…
Even here Kaspar could see that his pupils were flickering with strange colors – as if some little sparks were slowly coalescing into a flame. The man's smile grew even wider and he slowly waved his hand to Kaspar. He said something, but Blach couldn't read his lips.
Somewhere ahead the traffic lights turned green and the bus took off, carrying Kaspar away as the man in white receded in the distance.
Home. I wanna go home. Wanna go home. Please, I wanna be home now so bad.
The moment the bus stopped at the Blach household, Kaspar rushed out, pushing other passengers aside with his elbows. He made it across the stone-padded walk with a few jumps, ran up a short stairway…
Keys, keys, where are the damn keys?!
The door swung open. His father was standing on the doorstep, dark and brooding as a thundercloud.
"I-"
"Get inside, quickly," Hissed Maximillian Blach. "We don't have much time."
Literally falling in through the doorway, Kaspar dropped his bag on the floor and was already going to tell his father about the weird mage who stalked him – the mage who carelessly activated his Mystic Eyes in front of so many potential witnesses – but, looking around he understood that there was something wrong going on in the house regardless of that.
All curtains on the windows were closed, as were the gratings outside. The walls were covered with flickering seals – Kaspar never had to deal with magic so powerful before, only read about it in the old grimoires. Six suits of antiquated knight armor that stood in the hallway for a long time were piled up near the entrance as if those old wrecks were going to defend the mansion. Kaspar barely recognized his mother's voice upstairs – she was reciting a long powerful spell in an unnatural cold steely tone. At the same time he heard some growling or bubbling, maybe both…
"Upstairs, now," Said his father while locking the door.
"What… what's happening?"
"No talking!" Maximillian roared. "Go to my office, there, on the table you will find a phone number, under the glass… on the left… a piece of paper."
"I don't get it-"
"You don't have to. Just do as I say."
There weren't many people who would go and argue with Maximillian Blach, even among those who didn't know about his true nature. His sight alone was often enough to make people think twice about crossing his way. He was so burly that his shoulders were wide enough to nearly rip his suit apart. He was a dangerous man to underestimate as his huge hands were equally capable of both weaving complex magecraft and snapping somebody's neck. His rough hair was always cut short and his face was seldom alight with a sincere smile or, for that part, any other sings of emotion. Now, however, he looked pained and exhausted so much that he didn't even try to hide it.
"Call that number and say that we need help immediately. Then, go to your mother and help her set up the barrier."
Kaspar was afraid of his father. But now something horrible was happening, something he didn't understand at all – and that scared him even more. He fully understood what would happen if he were to disobey, but still he stood there like a statue. He just couldn't move a limb.
"For God's sake, are you going to just stand here like that?!" The Blach family head screamed. "I give you one damn minute to get the hell out of my sight or you will regret it!"
Kaspar didn't even twitch, frozen with fear. He still could speak, however and didn't hesitate to ask:
"Is it all because of that mage in white?"
"Did you see him? Where? Where?!" His dad lifted and shook him in the air like a rag doll. "Where was it? Answer me!"
"In the street, when I was riding the bus. He waved to me. He had Mystic-"
"Bastard," Maximillian hissed, pushing his son aside. "That little sly peace of shit. Had to finish you off back then-"
"Who is he?" Kaspar asked, mustering all his courage. "What does he want with us?"
"He's your elder brother Albert," The cold voice of his mother echoed in the room. "And he's here to kill us all."
They called him Candle. He had an actual name, of course, Freri Lann, but he hasn't heard that name for a very long time, particularly because everyone who knew it was long dead. Except those the big shots from the Clock Tower, whose faithful servant he used to be. Not like they'd been his only masters...
His skin had the color of the cheap candle wax, and was even less pleasant to touch – anyone unlucky enough to brush against Freri's skin would feel as if he had just touched a toad, or a snake, or something else just as disgusting. People didn't like it – people generally dislike things that don't resemble their own kind, especially when such a "thing" has untouchable skin, watery eyes and light gray hair with a texture of bast. Freri held no grudge against people. He understood very early that humankind were stupid and cruel. Their children in particular. After all, it was them who threw stones at Freri when he was little, leaving him without his left eye. The day it happened Freri Lann suddenly understood a few things. He understood, for one, that their skulls were so very fragile and their blood tasted even better than chocolate he once stole from a candy store…
Freri never felt any guilt over what happened. His mother was guilty for choosing her lovers indiscriminately enough about her lovers to get mixed up with that… abomination which was his father. She was also guilty, beyond any shadow of doubt, for not disposing of her child and bringing him into this cruel and uncaring world. He had no place here. But Freri didn't hold a grudge against her either. Not since the day he came back home and found her lifeless body hanging under the ceiling on a washing line. That day he even cried – for the last time in his long, but certainly not a happy life.
"One more cup of tea, please," Freri curled his lips in a smile, taking care not to show his sharp teeth to the waitress.
The girl nodded and hurried away, trying not to look at Freri's face as he unfolded the map of the Blach mansion before him.
Freri Lann never went on a job without preparation, as he knew that many battles are decided long before they start, if one has wits to scout ahead without fussing around. Such an attitude saved his skin more than once during the time he worked with the Clock Tower. This was no different: first of all Freri gathered as much information on the target he was going to tail as he could.
The Blach dynasty was old, powerful and quite respected within the Association. They were not an aggressive lot and rarely gave the Association reasons to worry about them. Nevertheless, if someone were foolish or reckless enough to provoke the Blachs in earnest, their retaliation was always swift and deadly. Nobody knew the path to the Origin they'd chosen: the Blach family kept its key research secret. But it was widely known that they, among other things, practiced necromancy and had were more than proficient in the art of conjuring all sorts of powerful familiars. Blach dynasty was tightly holding on to their roots and it wasn't until very recently that they started to implement modern technology – if only the kind which could assist with their work, so one would be hard-pressed to find anything like a TV-set in their house. After thoroughly studying everything he had on the methods Blachs to deal with their foes, Freri once again noted that they were a formidable target one could not afford to underestimate. What few enemies the Blach family did have (mostly those who desired to seize their secrets) lost time after time. Dispatched familiars and assassins didn't return, traps turned on those who set them up… the Blachs made a point of fighting without ever holding back. They always struck once – no follow-up was necessary.
The Blach mansion was an old and elegant building. Even though it seemed weathered and shaky, it was actually a very tough nut to crack. Freri made a few attempts to scout it out, posing as a newspaper delivery boy, then as a postman, and, finally, as a phone company specialist. The last visit gave him a perfect opportunity him wiretap them so that he knew everything about their phone calls. There wasn't anything Freri missed. It wasn't hard to calculate the positions of the most obvious magic traps, thanks to his heightened sense for such things. He also remembered where each window leads and how many exits the building had, including the secret ones. Freri knew which alley was the best to hide in, frequency of the cop patrols in the area and when people in the surrounding houses went to sleep and woke up. At night he used sharp-sighted bird familiars, which were hiding in the trees around the mansion.
Freri took his sweet time – his client said he had no need to hurry and otherwise was quite respectful of him. Freri was not respected by anyone since his childhood, not really, so his client's unusual demeanor has earned him a certain measure of trust. And Lann didn't easily come to trust people, not by any stretch of the imagination. Freri didn't hurry, but the scout runs and other preparations were finished yesterday. Today was the last time he studied a map of the Blach mansion, the one he was drawing the whole night, armed with his client's knowledge of the house as well as his personal observations from the outside.
"Your tea," The waitress has put the cup on the table and swiftly hid in the service rooms, trying hard not to stare at her silent client.
"Thanks," Freri mumbled, pointing his finger at the map, lost in thought.
Guest rooms, host bedrooms, a big kitchen, the current family head's office, and a large library, its windows protected by a fairly modern alarm system without an ounce of magic whatsoever. Deep inside the mansion were the laboratory halls and summoning rooms…
"Still busy with your paperwork?" Freri heard a smug voice, which he still couldn't get quite used to.
Without bothering to ask, Lann's client seated himself across the table and pulled the map towards him.
"Enough, Freri, leave it already. Everything is ready," He took a watch on a chain out of his pocket, smiling.
"I know. One last overview before we start," Replied Candle "You know, in case I've forgotten something-"
"You know you didn't," His companion talked in a calming voice. "I think you've learned everything by heart long ago. We should seize the moment and relax while we can. Before the blood is flowing."
"Alright, alright," Freri sipped some tea. "Where have you been?"
"I paid a visit of friendship to my dear brother. I haven't seen him for such a long time…"
"So you didn't heed my advice after all," Freri sighed. "You're complicating my job..."
-The whole mansion is on high alert since yesterday anyway. They are reinforcing their defenses so we can't afford to wait any longer - we risk taking on the guys from the Association. We shall make our move tonight. Oh and by the way, that visit was more than necessary, Freri."
"Pray tell me, how so?"
"Let them conjure their familiars and lay traps, let them put up barriers and walls. Let them arm themselves to the teeth for all I care. My brother will demand explanations and they will have to provide them. We'll wait till dark, Freri. Let them tell him the truth, infect each other with doubts, fears and mistrust, let those feelings grow and spread. And then, we shall come to kill."
The wall clock read 11 p.m. Kaspar Blach sat on his bedside, holding head with his hands (he was sitting like that for half an hour already) and looking straight at the floor. Only the sound of the clock ticking across from him held his mind in reality. The reality where he'd been so cruelly deceived.
If it wasn't for mother, who insisted that Kaspar had the right to know, his father would have, most likely, sent him upstairs without telling anything, possibly after a couple of slaps to snap him out of the stupor. That way, he would still be in blissful ignorance about the whole story. He wouldn't know who was coming for his blood. But Maximilian Blach listened to his wife's words and grudgingly told Kaspar the truth.
"Albert didn't die that day," His father's voice was hollow; he struggled to find the words. "He was alive when the executor brought him to me."
"Then why?" Kaspar shouted. "Why did you… what did you do to him?"
"He overestimated his abilities gravely. He reached out to the power he had no hope of controlling. You see, your brother was a huge coward since the day he was born. He was afraid of everything and everyone, always thought somebody was going to hurt him. Of all the things magic could have given him, he was most interested in defenses and protection techniques. He studied wards, barriers and abjurations of the most powerful and complex kind with utmost fervor. Casting any of them was far beyond him at the time, of course, but he learned the theory behind them through and through."
"I don't understand. What happened that day?"
"When he got into that mess, he thought he'd be killed for sure. He later told me he panicked. And so he tried to weave the strongest shielding spell he knew. You have to understand, that magic – it is beyond capabilities of many mature and experienced magi. And Albert… well, he did have the potential, but it was nowhere near enough by itself."
Maximilian Blach fell silent for a long time. Kaspar thought he'd never hear the rest of it, but his mother continued.
"His circuits couldn't take that colossal stress. He burned through what was supposed to last a lifetime in mere seconds. After Albert burned out, he was but a hollow husk."
"The executor that took him called and made an appointment," Maximilian Blach spoke again. "He told me the truth immediately. Magi rarely survive something like that. And those who do, regret it for the remainder of their lives."
"That night you told me he died," Kaspar hissed, feeling anger welling up inside him.
"He did die. Albert Blach the magus was no more," His father replied coldly. "He was paralyzed, but there was a kind soul among the executors – their healer did all he could. Still… nobody could return what was lost that night, nobody in the whole world. Never again Albert could use magecraft."
"And you threw him out!"
"I was expected to kill him! Murder my own son!" Maximillian Blach screamed, jumping from the coach. "I had to kill, if only to spare him the humiliating, dishonorable fate that had befallen him! It's unthinkable for a mage!"
For a moment Kaspar thought father would lash out at him. But instead he just wobbled backwards, painfully sighed and sat back.
"I almost did it," He said. "I've almost worked up the resolve. But Irma wouldn't let me. What could I do? What? How could I look a fellow magus in the eye if they were to know that my son, my successor had become an empty shell!? A soulless clod, who'd never be able to achieve anything!"
"Don't you say such things about him!" Kaspar screamed in return.
"I… I almost did it," His father repeated. "Almost, yes. But Irma pleaded for his life… and he did himself, as well. He cried every day when I came to his room. He begged me to forgive him."
"So what did you do to him?"
"As soon as he could walk again, I took advantage of my connections and sent him away. I've sent him to the Sea of Astray, to make sure he stays there forever…"
Maximillian Blach fell silent for a while, bracing himself to continue. Kaspar had never seen him like this – for him the figure of his father was an unshakable pillar of solid confidence and personal strength.
"He cried back then too. He knew what kind of life was awaiting him. He sobbed, crawling at my feet, asking not to send him to the Wandering Tomb. And I had no choice. None at all. I did it because it was the best thing possible in my position."
"You mean, all these years-"
"Nobody should have found out about this disgrace. Not even you," The father once again started walking in circles around the guest room. Now you know it. You may be angry, you may hate me, and you may do whatever you please. I've done what any magus would do in my shoes if he had any dignity. If you blame me for this, it means you are not worthy of the Blach magic crest. It means you are still a child."
Kaspar didn't answer. He had nothing to say… almost nothing.
"Something doesn't add up here," He said.
"Oh, and what could that be?" His father growled back.
"You just said he was left with no capacity for magic whatsoever-"
"Exactly. The executor, who took him, called him Hollow. As far as I know, somebody at the Wandering Tomb had heard of the nickname and it was stuck to him ever since."
"How do you know?"
"I couldn't send him letters after what I've done. But I had a few contacts there and as a gesture of good grace they took it upon themselves to keep an eye on Albert and occasionally sent me a word about how he's doing there."
"If Albert is indeed unable to cast magic, then how do you explain the Mystic Eyes he showed off on the streets?" Kaspar asked angrily. "If he is indeed as "hollow" as you describe, then why is our whole household turned upside down? What are you afraid of?"
"He didn't escape from the Tomb alone," The Blach family head answered. "He found a way… or some item… I'm not even sure how's that possible, but either he managed to somehow get his powers back, or stole enough items to compensate for his lack of personal magical ability. I've known about his escape for a long time. I knew it and hoped, more than anybody else, that he would be intercepted at the sea. I was wrong. As soon as he reached the land, his trace was lost. But yesterday… last morning he came here."
"What? Here?" Kaspar gasped.
"No. I met him after the walk in the park. Well, not exactly met, I guess… he dashed at me in a car, trying to run me over. When it didn't work, he turned tail and fled. I recognized him immediately. You said you saw him today on your way back home-"
"Yes. He was stalking me, searching for me. He wanted to tell me something."
"Doesn't matter anymore," Kaspar's father interrupted him. "I do not know just how long did he circle us, waiting to strike, but I'm certain that everything will be decided tonight."
"What… are we going to do?"
Kaspar knew the answer before his father said anything.
"Albert ails our family like a tumor. A tumor we need to cut out."
Kaspar Blach rose from his bed and came to the window, going against his father's direct orders. He peered into the night. The windows of the nearby house were dark – the neighbors probably went to the countryside…
He still couldn't believe it. Albert. To think, that such a kind, quiet person who smiled so often, the one with whom Kaspar played chess and most of the time kept losing… Albert took his role and responsibility much more seriously than Kaspar ever did. Albert should have become the next head of the Blach family, if he didn't get into a wrong place at a wrong time, putting the whole mission of the Church's executors in jeopardy…
He could barely get over his loss. And now, when Albert returned – alive, real – the family is going to kill him off for good.
No. No. This was wrong. He will talk to them, he will… it's hard on them too after all. Now he understood why his mother cried last night – she heard who was coming home. Now Kaspar knew that he can't trust even the closest relatives – because they've been lying to him for so long…
The door creaked, and Maximillian came in, holding a shotgun.
"His truck is outside," He said. "And our phone is cut off. Albert has decided, at last."
Kaspar stood up, looking father in the eye, hoping to find there a hope to resolve this without bloodshed. He found none.
"This is for you," Father left the gun near Kaspar's bed. "Except this time it won't be like on a hunt."
"I-"
"If you don't think you are up to it, then stay here and don't get in my way. I'll sort this mess out myself," Senior Blach's voice was steely. "But if you are going with me, remember this: no warning shots, no attempts to make him surrender. It's all bullshit. Don't touch the weapon unless you shoot to kill."
"I...I understand," Kaspar slowly raised the gun. "I'm ready."
"That's the spirit," Father patted his shoulder. "A true magus, are we?"
They walked downstairs. There was light everywhere, every damn bulb in the house was lit.
"Where's mother?"
"Upstairs. I doubt he would harm her, but she can't bring herself to…"
"I see."
They took positions in the hall. Kaspar occupied the stairs, or, to be more precise, the small flat area upstairs, from where a number of smaller stairs led to the second floor, running in every direction. Maximillian rolled up the sleeves of his striped shirt and started to slowly swing a small metal disc on a chain. His son didn't remember seeing that particular trinket before.
"The warning charms are breached!" Irma Blach screamed from the second floor. "He's passed the outer boundary!"
"It has begun," Maximillian hissed. "Unleash them all!"
"Charge!" Kaspar's mother roared and at the same moment dozens of shadows dashed past him. He couldn't get a good look at them, as they shrieked, hissed and ran straight through the wall.
Something flashed outside the mansion, darkness of the night dispelled by bright flames. They heard crashing and clanging noises, followed by two loud claps and a wild scream.
Then, everything fell silent again.
"We got him," Maximillian said, not sounding particularly certain certain. "No, it was a bit too easy… Irma! What's happening?"
"I don't know!" She yelled from upstairs. "They attacked and-"
"And" what?"
"And I've lost them all. That very instant."
"That's nonsense," The family head frowned. "Did the barrier hold?"
"Yes," Kaspar's mother leaned out from the doorway. "But I can feel somebody probing it now."
"We need the proactive defenses, fast," The elder Blach spat the words out.
"I can't do this…"
"Now!" Maximillian snapped.
Irma Blach sighed and returned to her room. Kaspar heard three or four short, sharp commands – and once again something flared outside. He knew it was the proactive defense his father spoke about. He knew it quite well: a year ago a burglar who tried to rob their house. What was left of him fit into a dust tray.
Same fate befell Albert…
"Roasted and toasted, you little bastard," Maximillian said with a smug grin. "Irma, what are you-"
They heard a pained screech from upstairs.
"Irma! What the hell?"
"I have no idea! Something retaliated! I barely had time to drop the link to the barrier-"
Something retaliated.
Kaspar tried his best to keep from shaking.
"He's breaking through!" Kaspar heard clear panic in his mother's voice. "Where did he get such power?"
"Can you hold?" Coldly asked the family head.
"I don't think so. Oh… one more minute and the barrier will crumble like a house of cards!"
"Strike again. Torch him."
"Max!"
"Do it!"
A flash. A scream. And then a loud bang.
Kaspar's mother yell was so loud one might have thought she was being torn apart.
"I can't do it any longer! I have to lower the shield!"
"Don't you dare!" The elder Blach roared.
"His power is increasing! We risk extinguish all life in the vicinity if the barrier is not dropped! It will drain the whole neighborhood dry! I'm dropping it!"
"Don't you-"
This time around there were no claps. The sound from the outside was more like that of an old rag slowly being torn.
"The barrier is no more," Kaspar's mother said with a sigh, leaning from the doorway. "I've done everything I could."
"Go back and hide somewhere. Don't open the doors until I tell you to," Commanded Maximillian Blach, turning to his son in a moment. "Well, it seems we'll have to put Albert down personally."
They returned on their previous positions and exchanged a few short, strained lines.
"How could he… I don't understand-"
"Me neither. This barrier shouldn't have fallen. If anything, he shouldn't have even reached it."
"Maybe we could try-"
"No, Kaspar. We won't talk to him."
Quiet. Too quiet, almost as if after tearing the mansion's defenses apart Albert considered his work here done. The younger Blach was going to say something else, when the silence was broken by the roaring of an engine. Kaspar suddenly realized, why his brother needed a truck…
"Stand back!" He screamed. "Away from the doors!"
Headlights pierced the windows with rays of light. A large truck effortlessly smashed through the mansion walls with a terrifying rumble. Debris flew in all directions. Maximillian whispered something and covered himself with his hand: everything that flew at him crumbled in the mid-air, stopped by an invisible shield. Kaspar aimed through the smoke, which filled the hall – somewhere in there he heard the cabin door slap open…
Irma Blach fled to her room after losing both the barrier and all the familiars. She did her best and now the others had to finish the job. Besides, to look at them do it…
To see them murder her son…
No. There was no way to stop it now.
No way at all.
If she were to intervene, they would do the same thing to her, and to make the matters worse, Albert wasn't likely to…
No, the thing that returned to them after all these years was not likely to show mercy either.
She turned the key for the second time and put it in her pocket with shivering hands. Then, she pressed her back against the closed door, fighting the only desire a mother could have in such a moment – to run back and try to stop them, stop…
But as soon as her back touched the door, even that thought left her mind.
Because she wasn't alone in her room.
There was a tall man, stripped to the waist, standing near the old fireplace, which hasn't been lit for five years or so.
Or was he even human?
His sinewy body was covered in scars and its skin had an unnatural, sickly color. Long arms had unbelievably thin fingers, and each of those ended with a small, but hard and pointy claw. His hair was messy and his left eye was covered by an eye-patch. She even saw two rows of sharp teeth…
"Good evening," The creep grinned from ear to ear, taking a small knife from behind his back. "And good night."
"Get ready," Blach whispered to his son. "Shoot him on sight."
The smoke gradually thinned out. Something clicked and then a blond magus in a white dandy suit showed up with a shining smile. It was the same mage that scared Kaspar on his way back home.
Albert.
"Home, sweet home," He laughed, throwing his arms wide, as if he was going to hug someone.
Kaspar's fingers went numb – he just couldn't force himself to shoot
"Is this how you welcome back you beloved son?" Albert stepped forward, still smiling.
Maximillian snapped his fingers.
At this moment all the traps went off at once.
The mage in white was struck by a dozen branching lightings that came from the seals on the walls. He was engulfed by a roaring column of fire and, as if it wasn't enough, all six armor suits went in to chop up what was left of their master's foe.
Maximillian Blach lowered his metal disc, expecting to see nothing but lumps of charred flesh. He was already going to give his son an earful for hesitating to shoot…
"Not bad, dad. Rather good actually," The smug voice made Maximillian stagger.
How?
How could he…
Albert came out from the smoke and steam – without a scratch. Only his suit and watches were damaged – the charred rags fell from his body and the metal scraps littered the floor.
Then Maximillian saw it.
All his body, from the shins and up to the throat, was covered in shimmering lines, deep fissures carved into his flesh and skin. Those lines spread across his entire body and glowed stronger and stronger by the minute.
"What… what have you done to yourself?" The father snapped.
"Oh, lots of interesting things," Albert waved his hand to Kaspar. "Greetings, brother! How are you doing?"
He didn't answer – the gun in his hands wobbled from side to side and his teeth chattered.
"You won't walk away from this," The elder Blach whispered. "This much I can promise."
"Oh, you shouldn't make promises you can't keep," Albert glanced at the armor suits, shambling at him. "First of all, call off this old scrap."
"You-"
"Do it, or else she's a dead woman!" Albert made a dramatic gesture toward the stairway. "Candle!"
Kaspar turned around reflexively and froze in place, when he saw his mother with a knife pressed against her neck, held by a weird one-eyed goon.
"You wouldn't dare," Maximillian exhaled, white with anger. "You don't have the guts to kill your own mother!"
"Shoot, Kaspar!" Irma Blach rasped.
"Yes, shoot!" Candle roared with laughter.
Kaspar felt like he was going to faint any minute. It was far too much to endure for him.
"You say I wouldn't dare?" Albert smiled again. "Once I thought I wouldn't be able to turn myself into what you see now, either. And yet-"
"What do you want?" The family head had to yield.
"Drop your weapons, both of you."
The metal disc and the shotgun hit the floor. Armor suits halted a few meters away from the mage.
"And now you will tell Kaspar everything," Hatred flared in Albert's voice. "Here and now."
"I don't understand-"
"Father? What else did you hide from me?" The younger brother shouted from the stairs.
"Nothing!" Maximillian bellowed. "Don't listen to him!"
"Tell my brother what fate was awaiting him were I to stay the heir. Tell him. Or else Candle will-"
"Never."
"I'm going to count to three. Then her head will roll down these stairs. One."
"No!" Blach screamed. "You won't dare, you monster!"
"Two."
"We'd have to cast you out, Kaspar!" Shouted Maximillian Blach.
Albert didn't even try containing his laughter.
"What? Dad" Kaspar was at his limit.
"To have more than one scion is very undesirable for a magus family. The infighting for the Crest is an ever-present menace," His father's voice was dull. "But you two… you were always keeping up with each other, so we couldn't decide which one we'd keep."
"You'd k-keep?" Kaspar stuttered, forcing the words out.
"After some deliberation, we decide it would be Albert. If not for that story he got himself into, we would wipe your memories in about a year and send you into a mundane family. But as he was lost on us, we had to… adapt."
"You… were going to throw me away?"
"Yes," Blach sighed. "There is no other way."
"It means… I-"
"Was just a backup plan. You were good enough, given the lack of alternatives, but that's it," Albert raised his voice once again. "And now you know what it is like to be a child of a magus. How fun it can be. And how painful!"
Kaspar stared at his father with his eyes wide-open, unable to believe what he just heard. They… They'd cast him out?
"I told him everything," Maximilian hissed again. "Now let her go."
"I thought about it," Albert answered. "You are right about one thing. I may be a freak, but even I can't kill my mother with my own hands. Candle!"
"No!" Roared Maximilian.
Albert waved his hand. The henchman buried his knife in the victim's neck.
"Mama!"
Kaspar didn't even understand where did the strength come from, but it was enough to cover the whole stairway in a few jumps and reach the scum that stabbed his mother with a knife…
"It's yours," The man pushed the bloodied, dying woman in the back, grinning nastily.
Irma Blach fell on her son and tumbled down the stairs, pulling Kaspar with her. Her head was dangling on the last shred of skin and when she reached the floor, it got severed completely and rolled at the feet of Maximillian.
Maximillian Blach, completely speechless, snatched the meal disc from the floor and swung it thrice, spooling the chain around his arm. Then his hand shot forward and he barked an arcane formula, pointing at laughing Albert.
"I wouldn't recommend that," He said with amusement.
Blach's hand was glowing, almost burning with power and his spell was supposed to crack Albert's skull. The result, however, was the entirely different: Blach himself was flung backwards and screamed in pain, as his arm was twisted, broken and bloodied. The bones stuck out and his palm dangled like a rag.
"What are you?!" Roared Maximillian Blach. "Just what the hell are you?!"
"I'm your worst nightmare. Candle, take my brother upstairs and pack him up. I'm going to need him."
"Kaspar, your gun!" Blach cried.
But his son didn't listen. He was sitting on the floor, looking at his mother's corpse with maddened eyes, not paying attention to Freri, who approached him.
"I don't know what they did to you in the Sea of Astray, but I will end you here. You and that bastard you brought along" Maximillian Blach finished his line with considerable effort and immediately spoke a short spell.
His son didn't intervene for some reason and just watched with a smile.
"You should know this, dad-"
"Die!"
A shadow jumped from Blach's fingertips and covered Albert whole. But after a moment it burst with a deafening clap.
"How did you-
"-whoever hurts me, shall be repaid sevenfold."
Maximillian's skin started to melt away, flowing like wax. Blach screams, like he has never screamed in his entire life.
His body falls heavily to the floor, continuing to writhe and squirm there.
"I'll butcher you… butcher… son of a bitch… kill you-"
He didn't scream for long – his throat eroded from the inside.
"I dreamed about this every day on that damned rock. And every damn night," Utters Albert, while kicking his father's body to his heart's content. "You see? You're not scary, dad! Not scary at all."
Albert's eyes almost pop out and his pretense of disdainful tranquility slips away, revealing a true self of the magus, his warped and insane face.
"You're not scary! Not scary! Not scaaaaaaryyy!" Albert snapped completely and started screeching and spattering foam from his mouth, all while kicking and kicking the lifeless body. "How's that? D'you like it? Huh? Does that feel good? Answer me! Answer!"
Albert kept kicking the body till his leg started to hurt.
Kaspar Blach came to his senses. To find out that he is still alive was surprising at first and deathly terrifying, knowing just what...
Maybe it was all just a dream?
"Don't count on it," Albert's sinister face appeared above his head. "Perish the thought, old boy."
"Wait! Wait!" Kaspar shouted, crawling towards the wall. "I didn't know what they had done! I knew nothing!"
"Ignorance won't save you," Albert nodded to his companion and he dropped a large suitcase on the floor.
When it opened, Kaspar wanted to faint again. But the darkness didn't come.
"W-what is it-"
"Those are the tools I need, nothing more," Uttered Albert. "You see, daddy gave you something that ought to be mine. Yes, I'm speaking about the magic crest, my old boy. Fortunately, in the Sea of Astray, I came upon a correct method of its extraction."
"Ex-ext-raction-"
"Forgive me, Kaspar, but I can't guarantee it won't hurt-"