(Please note that this is the second chapter of a book that is currently being edited and is in the final editing stages. Changes can still be made before the final release.)

Warning: Genre is Dark Fantasy- Horror/Thriller, swear words can be present. Take this as your warning.

Chapter Two

I sat the next morning, my gaze fixed on Sandra. I’d been willing to take Timothy with me, but the night had plagued me with nightmares with the two children who were in my care and their terrible ordeals. They had no parents to return to who’d explain what had happened. Sandra was here as a mother to Timothy. I took another sip from my cup as I thought about it. With tears in her eyes, she blinked a few times more and braved to meet my stare.

“I don’t understand. I’m a Cloak now. Where did he get the idea I’d given permission? When it concerns my son, there’s no way I’d open the door to allow him into my life. We were both slaves to that beast.”

I placed the cup on the table. The room had been repainted. New curtains hung at the windows and choice pieces of furniture added to the lived-in feel. I tensed in anticipation of a demon coming around the corner of the door. “Magic, Sandra, you were a witch, and you used Piper’s power. I’ve read about what is called Ekesre. Your spells and so forth might have become second nature. Did you destroy your medium?” I leaned forward, trying not to sound accusatory. But I was accusing her of something she swore she’d left behind the day she took on the cloak.

“I… I haven’t used spells at all. The medium? You mean the glass feather.” She fell silent. Her gaze darted left and right. “I have no idea where it is.”

I sighed. Hawk had to teach me how to read properly. I learned about travelers, witches, demons, and angels. There were loads of books about the Maker too, but all of them were written by men. I’d had firsthand encounters as a child.

“When a witch is initiated, they are given a medium. A true witch is given a spell book of sorts, a book of shadows, one that is written by a bloodline. You did not get a spell book. You got a glass feather—a medium as fragile as the power source you used. Piper’s mark on your soul might be lost, but if your intent flows to that glass medium, you are allowing him back into your life.”

She thought for a while and stood up from her chair to walk over to the window. From there, she stared at the unsuspected Timothy who was swinging a twig around.

“I wish Cindy had listened to you on that day, you know that, right?”

My smile of comfort fell. I agreed with her. “I stopped Piper last night by taking an authoritative stance in Alhalma,” I paused, ignoring her words, “over Timothy’s life. Whether I like it or meant for it, I am now tethered to him. Anything that wants to get to him must go through me.”

“Thank goodness. So, he’ll be okay?”

I nodded, keeping the rest from her. Timothy wasn’t my problem, after all. I planned to stride away from here with Sword and Genevieve. We had to train. It wasn’t my responsibility to take care of a kid.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Her hand went for her stomach. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “It’s the law of influence, isn’t it?”

If I left him last night, allowed Piper to consume him in Alhalma, Timothy would be dead. It still wouldn’t be my problem. I balled my hands into fists. There were people dying, and yet, I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t allow the boy to be killed. The image of Adam, his father, came to mind. My debt to him was repaid.

“I can sense Alhalma, Seth. I was a witch, after all. I can feel the severed connection toward my child,” she half screamed the last part.

I took a step to the door. “Yes, to truly save him, your connection had to be severed. The bond the two of you had was the price for saving him.” I stopped. “It’s devastating. You only have my word to go on. There is no proof. So, I propose this. I’m going to leave this house with two Cloaks who will train underneath me. Send Timothy with me. I will return in a year. Do what you have to, to confirm this. See another witch. Become a genuine witch. Whatever it may be. When I bring the boy home, I will give all authority to you. If I do it now, I fear Piper will take his life.”

She bit her right index finger while she stared out of the window. “This damned conflict, am I right?” Her eyes were violent when she spat at me, “It’s not like you have an outstanding track record with kids.” Her hands went to her mouth.

I stifled a grin, “You’re right.”

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair.”

I held up a hand, quietening her. “Sandra, we put something in motion that cannot be stopped. If my future self believes that I must close the gate in the Deadlands, then that is what I’ll do. It will most likely kill me, and in that, I would’ve paid for my sins for allowing Lucy to die.”

She marched out of the back door. I didn’t know if she went to call Timothy or keep him. I didn’t much care. I treaded, careful to not step on a creaking wooden board, out of the door and to the street, where Sword and Genevieve waited for me.

“Are we ready to go to the Library?” Ikulme moved inside me as beyond the two cloaks the orange twilight cleaved apart. Inside the tear was a large open space with blue glowing crystals that illuminated rows of statues. Beyond the tear, a dark figure of myself strolled closer. “Hurry now.”

Without hesitation, Sword and Genevieve brisked through. I followed. I was about to close the portal when a gentle hand grabbed mine. A sobbing Sandra waved Timothy off. The portal closed. The joyfulness of giggling children was replaced with silent and somber granite. The swaying trees became cold lifeless statues holding up the roof of the large hall.

“What is this place?” Genevieve ventured farther into the strange cave.

I faced the two large doors that towered as high as a three-story house. “This is the hall of heroes. All heroes who have died by the Azortilmu, or more commonly known as the golden glow, are carved into stone.”

Sword ran a finger over a statue. “Best craftmanship I’ve seen.”

“The Library sculpts them.” I ushered a sniffling Timothy along, his grasp of my hand tightening.

The last statue was of Adam, his father. He froze as he peered at the large man.

Sword and Genevieve trailed us. The boy released my hand. I placed my palms on the doors warm to the touch as they slowly swung open.

“What do you mean the Library did it?” Genevieve pulled hair strands back behind her ear.

The Library had rows of books on shelves that travelled down to the darkest side of the large room. Warmth hit my face as we entered. A man with a giant head of a hawk stood with drinks on a tray, Hawk was waiting for us.

“It’s him again.” Genevieve appraised the angel.

“He’s the keeper of the Library, and yes, he’s an angel.” I walked through the large opened doorway and into the hall filled with shelves and fire lit places.

A frozen Timothy stared at the face of his father. I waited for the others to pass me and called after them, “Hawk will show you how the Library is able to do things.”

My steps echoed in the hall. The boy turned to me, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I had a dream last night.” His voice was a whisper. “You saved me from being planted. The soil was hungry.”

The towering stone-carved man had the same hair as Timothy. The statue’s eyes bore into me, reminding me of the sacrifice his dad gave. Your father was the bravest man I knew, the type legends are made of. He strode in and rescued me when Piper captured me.”

“He was powerful, wasn’t he?” Timothy asked, searching my eyes. I wanted to tell him that his dad could’ve saved me sooner. A lot happened in three days.

“He was.” Timothy smudged and rubbed his eyes. “Okay, then, I’ll have to become powerful too.”

I patted him on the back. “That’s the spirit. Timothy… Come, let me show you something extraordinary.”

We entered the Library. His steps slowed as he swung his gaze from side-to-side at the rows of unending bookshelves. He gasped and pointed at the books that flew around the rafters. There were seats in the tiled floor with small smokeless-fires. Faces and places were painted on an extensive map hung on one wall. In the middle of the room elevated by steps and a platform was an overbearing table made of black wood.

“That’s a war table. We stood there, your father, a woman named Cindy, and I. The first three Cloaks in centuries. We were so sure we would win the battle over Lenost.” I became quiet as I remembered the screams, the pain of Lucy falling on the docks. “We just didn’t realize what it would cost.”

I guided him to a door in the wall. “Which room do you want?”

He bit his lower lip and touched the door before answering, “The weapons room?”

I opened the door. There was a squarish room with stacks of weapons lined on all the walls. He wanted to step in before I stopped him, pulling him back. I closed the door and opened it again. This time it was a bathing area with a vast pool that had steam drifting up from it.

“The Library gives you the room you ask for and sometimes, forcibly the room you need. Like now, I believe the room is saying you should take a bath.”

“I don’t know how to swim. Will you help me?”

I stepped back and gave him a smile. “That is what the keeper of the Library is here for.”

Hawk appeared as if he knew he had to be there at that moment. “What the young traveler seems to think is that because I cleaned his vomit and clothes during his first year that I am a servant.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “I even had to bathe you in one of your more…depressing days.”

I shook it off as he ushered the boy into the bathing room. I returned to the fire where Sword and Genevieve waited for me.

Sword was the first to notice me. “So, training? What type are we talking about?”

Before I reached them, I veered to a shelf and sighed as I held a hand out. A book from a shelf farther off sprung to life and flew into my hands. I offered it to Sword.

“History of the Cloaks. The Alhalma World, written by Yenpo, a fellow traveler. I’m going to train you so that you’ll receive your gift—a singular power given to a crimson cloak after they train in the way of the Cloaks.”

“What does that entail?” Genevieve stood up and brushed off her clothes.

I took a seat between them. She frowned and sat again.

“Demons, angels, and witches have an infinity to sense the unseen world or Alhalma while being in the physical. Unlike travelers, they cannot use or manipulate Alhalma.”

“I thought they came from the unseen world,” Sword said.

I cleared my throat. “Yes, but once in the physical, you abide by the laws of the physical realm. The gods and watchers can materialize and influence the physical, oh, and Ulhezaoi of course. Each of you will be given a weapon of sorts, a relic or gift. Whatever you would like to call it.”

“Where’s yours, then?” Genevieve threw her hair to one side. Living for four years alone and sulking while reading in my underwear made me quite irritable toward people’s interruptions.

“I don’t have one because I don’t need one.”

I held out my hand to warm inside the fire. The flames licked around my skin as the tongues of heat caressed my hand. When I took it out, a flame hovered above my outstretched palm.

“Monsters need a source for their power to truly manifest in our world. This power likened to the demons are called Elhusribo. That was what the battle in Lenost was all about. A bloodline of the Cloaks survived through the purge and a brother and sister carried it, like a key. A demon named Gum took that key by killing the youngest sibling, Lucy. He cut her in half, and she fell on the docks of Lenost. I tried putting her back together and using my power to heal her, but it wouldn’t bend. I gave up fighting after that. Adam killed Gum in his true form. Gum was a monster of a demon towering over the buildings and wielding a bow as his Elhusribo.”

I brushed off their slacked jaws and escaped by gazing at the ceiling. “Being a Cloak, you need to understand you’ll die in the end.”

“What is the golden glow that you spoke of earlier in the hall?” Sword used his weapon to poke the logs in the fire.

“It’s a moment where you’re so in the will of Ulhezaoi that you become possessed by Its power. For a short while, you are stronger than anything alive. Not even the gods can stand against you, but it comes with a cost. No one can survive the glow. It eats at your body, consumes you until you fall into nothingness. Adam died crumbling to dust in Sandra’s arms.”

Genevieve shook her head. “Why doesn’t It just end the war by snapping Its fingers?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s a question that puzzles me too. What do you do with so much power in your hands? You only have a few moments to use it. Can the human mind truly fathom that power? Can you plan for the moment you have it? You are in the complete will of the Maker. Can you go against it?”

Sword grunted. “I get it… You have thought about it.” The giant of man took the book from me. “And you’ve read about it, too.” He stood up and crossed to a large table. With his left hand that he held out, books flew off the shelves and made their way to him. “I should catch up.”

Genevieve jumped up to join him. She grabbed one book from the air and read the title, “A summary of the Cloaks.”

While they read, I walked to the door to a dark cave with small, glowing crystals. When I entered, the door closed behind me. I relished the silence and the beating of my heart. I sat and breathed out. I had little choice in the matter. This was going to happen. I was heading to the Deadlands. From what I read in the past few years, the version of myself who met with Sword and Genevieve was indeed correct. For this conflict to end, that gate needed to closed. I tried to connect with the energy inside of me, but something drove me over and pinned me to the ground. I opened my eyes and stared into the darkness of a being resembling me. There were no eyes. This was nothing new to previous attempts. I shoved him off me, sending him flying backward. I stood as its body became that of a silhouette.

“Why did you allow it to happen?” The question bounced around the room.

The crystals grew darker and darker as the darkness became alive and crept up to me.

“I didn’t allow it.”

The darkness shifted back again. “You killed her. You listened to her. She said you were a child. Your plan would’ve worked better.” The darkness had gathered speed and it rammed into me with greater strength. My heart raced. My spine chilled, and sweat ran down my armpits.

“I was a kid!”

A sudden force held me to the wall. My feet lifted off the floor, and the cold stone of the cave was at my back

“You, Seth, are a traveler. You had more power than any of them, and you could not save dear sweet Lucy.”

I tried to fight before opening my eyes and falling to the ground, gasping for air. Yet another meditation that didn’t go as planned.