An Opus Alchymicum Vol 4: The Dæmon's Crucible

A Deathly Deception

Praveen Srinivasan shouldered his rifle and knelt down at the edge of the cliff, pinning a pair of binoculars tight to his face. He scanned the vast complex below, which was known as Cave 16, focusing his trained eye for hidden snipers and guards that may have been concealed amongst the vast numbers of tourists and pilgrims currently enjoying the wonders of this ancient site.

Praveen turned to his colleagues as they shimmied up on their bellies besides him. And what an odd assortment they were too! An historian from Durham College, who was also Oakley Street through and through; a foreigner who was at once Brytish and then not, and as shaggy-haired as his gruff, bloodhound dæmon next to him; then there was the third ... quiet, intense and seemingly with no dæmon at all, but alive enough to suggest he had one somewhere. Praveen thought at first that the man was a male-witch, but he didn't give off that impression on close inspection.

Whatever he was, his fierce look unsettled Praveen more than the other two combined. But Oakley Street had given him a job to do, so Praveen pocketed his disquiet addressed them all as a group.

"Welcome, gentleman, to the Ellora Caves," Praveen announced as if he were a seasoned tour guide. "There are over thirty-four monasteries and temples spanning a site of roughly two kilometres, all dug out of the basalt cliffs you see before you. The ancient structure below us is known as The Kailasa Temple, a great monument to Lord Shiva - The Destroyer."

"Why do I get the feeling that he wasn't the most friendly deity, with a title like that?" Sirius quirked from his place on the far left of the group.

"On the contrary, Mr Black, Lord Shiva is a creator god," Praveen explained.

"A creator?" Sirius parroted, dubiously. "Called The Destroyer?"

"Yes, for from destruction comes creation," Praveen went on. "That which was old and imperfect is destroyed and remade anew, improved using knowledge and wisdom. The corrupt is separated, and rejoined as something better."

"I see, sort of," Sirius frowned. "Well, it's a mightily impressive structure, I'll give you that. What do the Magisterium want it for? Tourism revenue?"

Praveen waited patiently for Sirius' infantile guffaw to ebb away before replying. "No, Mr Black, the Magisterium's interest in the site is far more concerning, as it is with their attentions to many ancient sites across this great land. And indeed, the world. You see, their discovery of the phenomena known as The World Grid in this last year has led to an explosion of interest in mystical monuments. The locations for the construction of the great pyramids in Africa and Mesoamerica, monolithic sites across Europe, ancient temples in India, China and elsewhere seem to have been purposely and deliberately chosen for their position over great vortexes of energy along this Grid ... collectively known as Vile Vortices."

"I have heard of this phenomena," Will piped up, suddenly. "A biologist called Sanderson proposed the idea in my world, suggesting that certain areas of the planet create a 'wrinkle' in spacetime, on account of gravitational or magnetic aberrations. They are swirling vortexes of intense energetic properties that connect space, time and matter."

"A Scholar of that name proposed the same here ... possibly it was the same individual, passing through one of his own vortices," Praveen suggested. "The idea is that such focal points of intense energy can connect us to other realms of space, time and also consciousness. Temples and monuments were built on top of the vortexes to harness and channel this energy, creating this World Grid of connected power points, thus drawing us closer to our celestial ancestors and our gods."

"And now the Magisterium wants to control all such sites across the world ... and take this potential away from anyone that they do not wish to have it, thus denying us access to all the upper realms of existence and consciousness," Malcolm scowled, bitterly.