The Guardian Chronicles: The Shadow Alliance

The Living Nightmare, A Prickly Meeting and Rifte and Sylva

The Living Nightmare

    Falkerr stood alone in Celidan’s office. He wondered if he had made the right choice, he snorted at that thought…of course he had made the right decision.  The Acolyptic technique was banned by narrow minded Wizards in an ignorant age. These were new times and they called for drastic measures.

    Falkerr’s mind was then filled with the image of the Acolyptic technique…they had shown him when he had invited them the day Celidan left to follow Garigh’s summons. Their faces and red slits for eyes disturbed him when he first saw them, but they told him that was a necessary side effect for the magnitude of the powers they each possessed. They silently kidnapped one of the young students from his bed and then brought him to Falkerr’s spacious study, then they began.

    The leader, Matroclos, stood in front of the boy and then raised his arms. The boy began to scream as his whole body began to turn into a pinkish jelly. Matroclos walked up to the boy and then opened his right hand; Falkerr would never forget what he saw then. In the palm of Matroclos’ hand was a round mouth that had row after row of razor sharp teeth around it. He put it on the boy’s head and the boy began to scream louder as he was sucked up into the mouth. His scream faded as he was sucked in, he was gone in a few agonizing seconds. Falkerr remembered being too astonished by the brutality of it all to turn away.

    He recalled what Matroclos said, “This is the nature of the Acolyptic gift. The young are our nourishment. Their lives feed the furnace of our powers.”

   He remembered his own weakly said reply, “But…it is so unnatural! Magic should not be used this way!”

    Matroclos laughed at him, “Don’t you see? Their lives would never amount to anything! This new generation of Wizards is weak! Their lives are meaningless without us! This boy I just absorbed…he was a weakling; but now…” Matroclos smiled, “…his life has purpose! He is intertwined now in my life and there is nothing but purpose there! His death gives me powers that I could only dream of following that fool Tsavin’s path! His ways lead to power tomorrow, but this…this leads to power today! Do you see that I carry no staff? I have no focusing stone for I am a focusing stone! Do you see the possibilities? Now, what is your answer? You wanted a demonstration…what say you now?”

    Falkerr closed his eyes tightly, he remembered his answer…it was yes. That was when they had shown him how to take young Wizards and use their energies for himself. He remembered the first time; she was a young Asvorian girl with red hair who had shown no potential at all. Matroclos gave him one of those mouths on his own palm by shaking his hand and allowing the mouth on his hand to bite Falkerr’s.

     Falkerr winced from the horrible pain and held his hand up. He watched as a mouth slowly formed there. He then did as Matroclos had and absorbed her. He felt power enter him that he had never dreamt was possible. He then knew that this power was worth the life of a few young Wizards whose lives were worthless anyway. He suddenly felt an enormous power enter the office, he turned and saw him.

    Matroclos stood there, a tall black statue. His eyes, which were nothing more then red slits, bore into Falkerr. Falkerr had noticed that none of them blinked and you could not tell where they were looking. Unless they looked at you and a sickening fear fill your stomach.

    “They tell me that Celidan came back today.” Matroclos said, his voice nearly made Falkerr jump. His was the oddest of all of them, it sounded like hundreds of voices, old and young all jumbled up together.

    “Yes…but two of the Acolypses dealt with him.” Falkerr replied.

    “Yes, they informed me of that also. I am disturbed by his inordinate lack of wisdom. That he would reject us out of hand is incredible to me.” Matroclos said.