Emily's House: Book 1 of the Akasha Chronicles

Chapter 38: Umbra Nihili

Chapter 38:Umbra Nihili

 “… to arise and live once more, flesh reunited with spirit, to walk again as a man, back from the Umbra Nihili, arise when all has been aligned to achieve your deepest desire.”

These were the last words Dughall heard spoken before his thousand-year sleep. Cian uttered them as he completed his dark and forbidden magick at the end of Dughall’s life.

Dughall and his army had wandered across Ireland and the whole of Europe searching for the chalice. Over time, the legend grew. Many came to believe that the chalice was the Holy Grail, the cup used by Christ at the last supper. But Dughall knew better. He knew the real power of the chalice. He didn’t care if they had it wrong. The fools. All the better for him.

Little by little his army dwindled as his men tired of chasing a dream. They returned to their homes and families. Dughall had no family, only the quest.

For many years he wandered, searched and fought battles. Eventually he grew old and knew his time to part this earth was near. But such was his desire for power and to achieve his lifelong goal that he was not content to go quietly into history.

Dughall knew that Cian still had dark magick up his sleeve. As his last breaths drew near, he summoned the old wizard to his bedside to inquire of a particular ritual that he knew could help him achieve his deepest desire. Macha, ever faithful, brought Cian to his side.

“Cian, old friend,” Dughall croaked. “I call upon you once again, as I did in the Grove those many years ago, to help me now with your dark arts.”

Cian winced at the word friend. He couldn’t explain why he had allowed himself to remain with Dughall all these years, but it surely wasn’t friendship.

“I have no charms or elixirs that will prevent your death, Dughall. You are a mortal, like all of us, and it appears that you will soon draw your last breath.”

The façade of charm was gone from Dughall’s voice as he tried to raise himself up to confront Cian. “I know that, you old fool,” he growled.

Macha flew to Dughall’s side and urged him to lie himself down once again. “What Dughall means to say,” interjected Macha, “is that he hopes that you have dark arts to help him direct his soul to that place that he longs to be.”

“To Heaven?” Cian was incredulous. “Oh, malevolent one, there is no magick in this world or the next powerful enough to send your immortal soul to anyplace heavenly,” laughed Cian.

“I’m not interested in Heaven or Hell,” snarled Dughall. “Don’t toy with me Cian. You know that I’m talking about the Umbra Nihili.”

Cian grew quiet. The mere mention of the name brought chills to his spine.

“You do not want to go there,” Cian replied.

“I do. I know that you know how to make it happen, Cian, so don’t try to hold back on me. Your skill and knowledge of the dark arts is unmatched old wizard.”

“Dughall, as much as I dislike you, and I truly do detest you to my core, I would not send my worst enemy to the Umbra Nihili. You do not fully understand what you ask.”

“I understand that it is the only way,” Dughall choked out. With desperation in his eyes and his voice, he pled with Cian.

“I am not done here,” he said. “You know that I am not finished. It is all that I have dreamed of. All that I have hoped for. And I can feel that it is close. Closer now than ever before. I will achieve my dream, Cian, even if I have to sever my soul and wait a hundred years in the Umbra Nihili, it is a small price to pay.”

Cian had never seen such desperation in Dughall’s eyes. There was something more there, more than just a quest for power. The man was on a mission for something even deeper.

“You do not know what you ask,” said Cian gently. “If you do this, you have no control you see. Your fate will be up to the gods, not your or I. And I do not know when, or even if, you will be able to come back. According to oral accounts, your soul will be reunited, and you will be thrust back into creation when all has been aligned for you to achieve your deepest desire. But that may never happen, you see. If you do this, you may have a fractured soul for all eternity, stuck in a place of nothing.”

“I do not believe that will happen, Cian. I know that my quest will be achieved. I just know it. I need your help though, old man. You must perform the ritual so I can go to the Umbra Nihili.”

Cian continued to plead with Dughall. “But you do not realize what you ask. It is not as if your soul will travel to heaven or even hell where you will be with other souls. You will be in the ‘Shadow of Nothingness’, in a place of no place. And you will be there entirely alone.”

“That suits me well since I detest every living creature anyway,” snorted Dughall.

“That may be true, but there is more that you need to know. You will not only be alone, but you will not have a body or ability to create. You will be a disembodied mind, alone with only your thoughts to torture you, perhaps, for an eternity.”

“You may be tortured by your own thoughts, Cian, but I am not tortured by mine. My only agony is the endless prattling of others. My mind is set. I know what I am doing. Now will you help me willingly? Or will I have to use my last breath to coax this favor from you?” Dughall grabbed for the dagger he had stashed under his pillow.

“You are in no condition to test your strength against mine anymore. Put that thing away before you hurt yourself. I will do this for you, against my better judgment. It is probably what you deserve anyway.”

With that Cian turned to leave. “Where are you going?” Dughall shouted out.

“To make preparations. You have used a fair bit of your remaining strength to threaten me so I imagine your time draws near. Rest and I will return to perform the ritual tonight.”

Dughall flopped himself back down on his pallet to rest. His heart beat rapidly with excitement. Soon I will make the final journey to all that I desire.