On the Evil Scale: Keeper of La Tecla (The Key) Book Two

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𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 59

𝒜rxulet thrust his head forward with his mouth agape toward Abraxas, but he swiftly slithered down then up, hitting Arxulet’s underbelly between his two sets of feet with his snout before scraping the red serpent’s scales with his crown-like horns. Arxulet roared, feeling the sting as scales fell from their place, vanishing as they lingered in the air. Abraxas then stretched open his massive jaw, sinking his teeth deep into Arxulet’s scales; his roars were fierce and in agonizing pain. He attempted to dislodge Abraxas’ grasp but with each movement or squirming motion, the grasp grew tighter before the Black Prince threw his head aside, releasing Arxulet far across the sky.Arxulet moaned, feeling the sharp stings running through his underbelly; dark green blood escaping from the wounds.

The red serpent turned his body in awkward slithering motions, facing Abraxas, blasting balls of fire towards him; returned by stronger and hotter blasts from the Black Prince. They slithered toward one another once more and as their heads clashed, their horns entangled but breaking free, they viciously wrapped themselves around each others’ long snake-like bodies, continuing their firestorms. Arxulet however managed to gain the upper hand; biting down on Abraxas’ tail causing his roars to fill the sky.

Hearing his words and feeling his pain, the dragon’s Mother glanced toward the sky watching as Abraxas slithered higher into the air with Arxulet attached by his tail. She screamed hoping he’d hear her pleas then telepathically encouraged him to utilize his paranormal shape-shifting and demonic abilities. Abraxas’ eyes shot open wide, hearing her words scream through his mind and swerving in a large U-turn-like pattern veering upward, he swiftly broke free from Arxulet’s grip. Squinting his eyes, Abraxas hardened his tail, whipping it hard and powerfully across the Red Death’s jaw, causing him to lose his focus and flight balance.

Arxulet shook his head recovering from the hard blow then jerked forward refusing to give up on this fight, realizing his fall was of rapid speed. He straightened his body that hovered at least 100 feet from the ground then spiraled back into the air toward Abraxas; thoughts running through his mind of how one moment he kept his grasp on his enemy’s tail then the next, it was hard like iron and feeling he could lose this battle, he stared at Abraxas momentarily then turned, slithering toward the village as if in a brief retreat.

Abraxas watched as the Red Death flew above the rooftops in taunting circles, then focused his eyes below upon the field; catching her petite form among the chaotic mess. His vision enhanced; watching as she grew a proud smile before hearing her words enter his mind,

“Go get him...”

He roared in acknowledgement then swiftly turned; his long serpentine body elegantly slithered.


Drakuul witnessed the battle between Abraxas and Arxulet watching as they flew toward the village then glanced across the field observing the petite woman staring in that direction. He tilted his head slightly squinting his eyes as he thought, “IMPOSSIBLE...IT CAN’T BE. THERE’S NO WAY A MERE LITTLE GIRL CAN CONTROL SUCH A BEAST. THIS ISN’T MAGIC; IT’S TRICKERY. IT’S NOT POSSIBLE BUT THEN AGAIN...THE DRAGON FOLLOWED SUIT AFTER THE RED DEATH ONCE GLANCING UPON HER. INTERESTING; INTERESTING INDEED. BUT IN ORDER FOR THAT DRAGON AND BOOK TO BE MINE, I MUST DESTROY HER.” then opening another portal in front of him, he stepped through, taking him on the other side of the field in a closer distance to the young woman. He groaned in frustration watching as his creatures began disintegrating from an unknown source of magic; their bodies slowly burning to their bones before turning to ash that blew away in a faint breeze.

He grew disgruntled, knowing he lost another war with no positive outcome. With the portal remaining open behind him, he scanned the field with severed heads and limbs, feeling a rage brewing inside. Even his greatest weapon, Arxulet, was being defeated and cursing in his Japanese tongue, he removed a weapon hidden in his gauntlet; a Japanese Kunai (throwing knife) with a sleek new blade. He also removed a small vial from a pouch that hung from his belt; a vial containing a thick black liquid. Removing the cork with his mouth that created a faint pop, a black mist of the darkest magic escaped from inside, indicating the essences’ quality was still fresh. He threw the cork away then grew a smug smile as he leered in the young woman’s direction.

He held the knife close to his lips, whispering an ancient incantation in Latin instructing it to aim and make its mark then he lowered the blade, smearing the thick liquid on both sides, avoiding making contact with his skin. This liquid was a poison made from ancient Japanese herbs that had gone extinct 150 years ago; a poison with no antidote. It would cause a long and painful death and how it came into his possession? He could thank his false mother, Lexa, for that.

“Goodbye, little Keeper…” he muttered in a sinister tone then holding the knife by its hilt ready to be thrown he continued, “Let’s see if whatever powers you possess can help you survive this concoction.” and turning his body a little to the right, he stood in position; raising his right hand up and behind then threw it forward with such force, he watched as the blade maneuvered around running warriors, intended for its mark.


Leonus fought in a severe rage when he abruptly heard someone grunt in pain from behind him. Turning around with the axe held high, there I stumbled in place before falling to my knees with my back facing him. He lowered his axe, taking slow steps toward the small woman, watching as my body leaned forward; hand releasing its grip on my sword. He stood there; just watching.

I rolled over onto my back, staring at a clouded sky where the battle of dragons continued. My eyes closed as I felt an excruciating pain surge through my left shoulder and upper chest. I gasped as I attempted to block the pain but that wasn’t an easy focus for glancing down at my shoulder, there it was; the hilt of a knife that had been thrown from somewhere among the chaos and a knife that penetrated through the bodysuit Azir claimed no weapon could cut. I gathered enough strength, groaning as I pushed myself onto my stomach, beginning to crawl on my right elbow toward a figure ahead through the cluster of lifeless corpses. My vision was beginning to blur but I managed to make out the figure’s large bulk; belonging to Leonus who just stood there, watching as I struggled to crawl near him.

He glanced around the field taking notice everyone scattered everywhere, searching for the enemy who had thrown the knife then immediately caught Drakuul’s gaze; the Necromancer began walking toward them. He flashed Drakuul a smile then gazed upon the petite woman crawling toward his feet, listening as I pleaded in gasping breaths; my left hand reaching out and touching his boot,

“Leonus, please...help me, please…please…” I lowered my head, moaning.

He took a step back before kneeling down; axe blades resting between his feet. Studying my helplessness, he replied in a sinister tone,

“Why!? Why would I help you, when I’ve wanted you dead!? And by the looks of that wound and color of your blood…” he took notice of its unnatural color, “I’ll get what I want soon enough, so I thank you for making that bet I’ve easily won.” then he stood backing away, “Bye-bye, little Keeper. This island is mine now.” he scoffed then ran off, axe hanging by his side.

“Leonus!” my voice rasped, “Leonus, you...son...of a b*tch!” I cried in pain as I laid there momentarily trying to search the field for my friends and Anthony but they were nowhere to be seen. I grunted then turned, glancing back watching as a dark haired Japanese man slowly approached in confident strides, knowing he’d finish me off. But his path was intercepted as another figure appeared behind him; a figure he didn’t sense or anticipate.


Hell’s foundations violently shook as creatures that were conjured, erupted in bursts of flame; appearing in scattered levels where they didn’t belong. Sitting in his throne chair of his private chambers; Lucifer complained as he leaned his head back, feeling Lilith’s petite hands rub his shoulders,

“Is there never a moment’s peace!?”

“This is Hell, my love…” Lilith leaned in whispering in his ear, “are you seriously asking that f*cking question!?” she kissed his neck.

“You’re not amusing me, Lilith and you know what happens when I’m not amused.” Lucifer warned, glancing into her red demonic eyes with a side-eyed gaze.

“I wasn’t being amusing.” she argued walking around the chair standing in front of him, “I was speaking the truth and don’t demons tell the truth!? Unlike humans who always have to lie!?”

He growled, admiring her daringness to speak against his warnings. He smiled then he stood; smile fading quickly as he strolled past her toward his chamber doors. Swinging them open, he shouted out,

“Asmodeus...Molock...Princes of Hell I summon you, NOW!” and less than seconds after his call, they rapidly appeared.

“Yes, Master?” Asmodeus bowed his head.

“Have you seen what’s happening here?” Lucifer raged.

“Yes, Master.” Asmodeus answered.

“And!?”

“We’re aware of it, Master.” Molock interrupted daringly.

“Good. THEN GET TO IT!” Lucifer commanded; his voice sending chills down their spines and that of Lilith’s as well., “I want these creatures and their essences’ placed back where they belong before my next patrol and that’s soon...very soon.”

“Yes, Master.” Asmodeus bowed his head once more then turned away with Molock.

“A** kissing bastard.” Molock mocked, glancing at the second Prince of Hell.

“The only way to please him, is to obey him.” Asmodeus argued, “But you wouldn’t know about obeying orders, would you Molock!?”

“Meaning!?” Molock paused.

“You have too much free reign here and up there on your precious Earthly realm but all that can change in just a matter of a few words to our Master.”

“Are you threatening me, Asmodeus!?” Molock stood taller than the dark blonde haired demon, “Choose your next words carefully, if you are.”

“Threatening. Warning. Take those words however you’d like, Molock but you won’t be Lucifer’s favorite forever. Remember Sumerian...I am much older than you, and have been with my master since the beginning.” Asmodeus pushed Molock aside, strolling down a corridor.

Molock sighed, glancing at his feet momentarily and when turning away in the opposite direction he paused, feeling a sharp pain across his shoulder and chest and he wasn’t the only one to feel it; Lilith appearing alongside him.

“Molock, something is wrong.” she panted, “I think something’s happened to Yzavela.”

“I know, but I can’t get away. Not now for eyes are watching my every move during the assortment.” Molock groaned then heard Asmodeus and other demons calling out his name, “I have to go.”

“Go. I’ll find out what’s happening. Go.”

“But won’t Lucifer sense you’re gone!?” Molock raised an eyebrow.

“Awe, you sound as if you care.” Lilith teased quickly.

“I don’t.” he turned away, disappearing down the corridor handling and rounding up the Zarooks, Trolls, Harpies and Shadowed Ones that ran amuck; like mad patients in an institution. The Trolls and Zarooks were difficult to catch and place, for their speed was unnaturally enhanced as were the Harpies and Shadowed Ones; the effort would take hours to complete. Possibly days. Lilith had convinced Lucifer to allow her her freedom for just a time; hours on the Earthly realm to collect fruits and meats that Lucifer favored but weren’t available in Hell. He reluctantly agreed then dismissed her presence.

She smiled as she scampered through the first level, wandering down a secret corridor she cloaked with her own demonic essence; an entrance and exit that wasn’t guarded by the Cerberus hounds. Not even Lucifer himself knew. She may have had a way with men and demons alike, but the hounds didn’t particularly favor her scent.


Drakuul grew too confident in his victory over the petite woman crawling away from him when a figure appeared behind him releasing shouts of rage. But before he could react or disappear, a large Scimitar blade was plunged through his torso from behind and glancing down, there was the blade covered in his blood. He held his hands to the wound that oozed through his armor and tunic. A warrior leaned in behind, whispering words in his ear; words he couldn’t understand, for the language was unfamiliar to him. He cried in pain as the warrior backed away, slowly removing his blade causing more torture than Drakuul had never experienced before. He managed to glance over his shoulder where a Nubian Jinn stood; his Scimitar blade covered in the Necromancer’s blood. Drakuul removed his hands from the wound, attempting to utilize his magic against the man but his magic had no effect. In fact, he rubbed his fingers along his palms feeling that his magic had left him.

“I don’t understand...what’s happening!?” Drakuul stuttered, “What did you do to me!?”

“Nothing you don’t deserve.” Azim replied then taking a step toward the Necromancer once more swinging his sword, Drakuul disappeared, then entered through the portal he kept open nearby, before the blade made contact.

Drakuul had appeared in the Throne room in the Great City falling to the ground and bleeding profusely; Parliament building silent and eerie. He crawled toward the rail that ran along the front row seat leading toward the door, pulling himself to his feet after several attempts. He slid his body along the rail until pushing the doors open; an action made too swiftly as the doors swung outward, pushing him against the opposite wall. He screamed as the gaping wound flinched with each motion. He left handprints on the walls leading toward the bathroom down the hall and once making it inside with knees weakening, he grabbed onto the sink of which proved difficult to fully grasp due to his slippery bloody hands. He cursed as he removed his armor, tunic and undershirt revealing Necromancy symbols tattooed on his slender body, to examine the wound inflicted in the mirror.

He closed his eyes as he turned his back, leaning against the sink; hands placed over the wound attempting to recite a healing spell but removing his hands, nothing of the healing sort occurred. He tried a spell to slow the bleeding but that too, failed! That was something Drakuul never knew; Jinn’s metal crafted from all known and unknown alloys, absorbs magical qualities, rendering the victim a mere mortal man or woman. But despite the failed attempts, he continued, reciting spell-after-spell from memory but nothing. Besides, dark magic doesn’t contain any healing properties, because of its negative use. Healing was more positive and utilized for good.

“F*ck it…” he cursed, grabbing towels hanging on their racks, wrapping them around his body and within seconds, they were soaked in his blood. He held onto the wall, sliding his shoulders along their lengths and corridors until finally arriving at his conjuring room; the door slamming open before he fell to the ground once more. He cried and moaned as he crawled the rest of the way toward the altar, leaving a thick blood trail beneath him and once at its base, he reached for the book that laid open atop but his cold pale fingers couldn’t reach over the table.


There were so many warriors that searched the field for friends and comrades, that not every-one had been mentioned. Sarah limped her way across the field searching for Jon and Nathan but grew worried for her eyes didn’t find them when suddenly, Nathan called out her name. She followed his voice, watching as he laid beneath a fallen Wereling, attempting to push the creatures’ weight off him. She pulled the arm managing a little freedom for her brother and once squirming free, she fell to her knees hugging him in relief.

“Are you alright?” he asked in concern then pulled away examining her face.

“I’m fine.” she sniffled, “You?” she noticed cuts and scrapes here and there.

“Eh, nothing a little time in the bloody hospital can’t fix.” he groaned then winced as he shifted his upper body and placing his right hand to his left side, blood covered his fingers.

“Oh, my god!” Sarah cried, “You’re injured, let me see!” she reached out her hands.

“I’m fine!” he pushed her hands away, “Just leave me be, will you!?” he frowned, closing his eyes.

“Sarah!” Jon’s voice cried out her name.

She turned her head watching as he approached. She pushed herself to her feet limping toward Jon, hugging him tightly. Nathan glanced away, spitting blood and sweat from his mouth while attempting to cover his wound with his right hand.

“Are you alright!?” Jon inquired.

“Yeah. Just a twisted ankle or cramp in my leg, but I’m fine.” she smiled, “And you?”

“I’m alright.” he pulled her in for another embrace and not out of concern for him, but for Sarah’s sake he inquired watching as Nathan stood to his feet in wobbly steps then caught the scent of his fresh blood, “Were you hit!?”

“Like you bloody care!?” he argued.

“No, I don’t. I’m just asking for Sarah’s sake.” Jon mocked studying Nathan’s injured side, “You’re injured.”

“I don’t know why you care!” Nathan snapped, “It’s just a cut, I’m fine. Now leave me be!” he attempted to turn away but felt hands grab onto his left arm and before he could retaliate, Jon had teleported him to the hospital and leaving him inside the front doors, he returned to the field alongside Sarah, “There.”

“Thank you.” Sarah hugged him. “Believe me...his death wouldn’t be a loss.” he then turned away with Sarah who lagged behind, not liking his comment.

Jon walked ahead, listening as Hiromi’s voice called out nearby.

“Erik!” Hiromi called out in worry, “Erik, my son!?”

“Father, I’m over here!” Erik’s voice answered after he appeared alongside his father.

“Aye…” Hiromi grabbed hold of his son, “thank god. Are you alright!?” he pulled away, examining his son’s armor and face; blood covering every inch.

“Father, I’m a Demon...I’m fine.” Erik pulled his head away from his father’s tender affection, “Father...are you injured!?” he examined his father’s appearance and there it was; a mild surface stab wound through his right shoulder and armor; large gash on his left arm and cut above his left brow.

“Aye, I’m fine. I’ve had worse.” Hiromi nodded, “Come...let’s find the others.” he turned away.

“But father, you need to get to the hospital...that is if it’s still standing.” he glanced toward the village; his Demon vision catching glimpses of buildings aflame and fires being fought by warriors that had ventured there for the same medical purpose.

“No. We find friends first and make sure they’re alright and safe, then...then I go and no arguing, Big Head.” Hiromi patted his son’s shoulder.

“No sense arguing.” Erik grinned then turned his gaze, calling out the names of friends; his eyes searching the field, “Nick...Caleb...Justin…Yza!”

Nick, Caleb and Justin were relieved that one another survived the war. they embraced in a three-way brotherly hug then pulled away, flashing each other smiles of friendship before hearing Erik’s voice calling out their names. Many other warriors found their friends and comrades either alive with minor, severe or life threatening wounds or among the dead; sadness filling the air for those who didn’t survive. They bowed their heads in respect before their bodies or ashes if they were Wraith.


As blood escaped the wound puddling beneath me, I knew I was dying. I laid on my side; my head leaning against the grass blinking my eyes before they closed. As they did, my life flashed through my mind like a slide-show of images; all scattered but the very last few, were of my mom and I exchanging our last hugs before the second part of this war commenced and a passionate kiss shared between Anthony and I. Gasping for breath I mumbled inaudible words.

“Yzavela!” Azim shouted, kneeling beside me as he dropped his sword, “Yzavela!?” his eyes examined the dark pool beneath my petite form. Reaching out his hand toward my neck feeling for a pulse that grew weaker by the minute, he frowned. Moving hair out of my face he whispered, “Lay still…lay still…” then he raised his worry filled eyes scanning the field when he heard a familiar bark; Zanz approached with a heavy limp as a large gash grazed his right front leg and paw, “Easy there, boy…” Azim whispered, watching as the hound laid beside the young woman, licking her face before he too closed his eyes, panting heavily.Azim muttered once more, “I’ll be back, child...I promise.” then standing to his feet he scampered a few feet from where I laid calling out in a powerful voice, “Azir, help...help! It’s Yzavela!”

Warriors passing by heard his cries and despite their injuries, they cluttered around taking in the sight of their Keeper that led them into battle, fearing the worst outcomes. Azir holding onto Natash after locating her among her female Jinn, heard his brother’s pleas telepathically,

“Azir...brother...it’s Yzavela!”

Hearing his frantic words, Azir urgently sprinted toward his brother where the young woman laid unconscious and pale; Zanz faithfully laying with her. Overwhelmed with various emotions, he knelt beside me. He and Natash knelt on the other side with tears. Azir wiped his eyes as he stood, asking his brother Azim what had happened.

“The Necromancer.” Azim answered softly quickly, explaining the moment with every detail in order.

Before anyone could react or rush words from their mouths, powerful roars filled the air as the battle of dragons still continued. Raising their eyes toward the sky, the two dragons wrapped around one another in vicious attempts to win.


Abraxas hadshifted various parts of his serpentine anatomy; twisting and reshaping his horns, transforming his snout into a massive beak that pecked viciously, his tail had grown into a lengthy stinger-like tip and claws that lengthened sharper and with all these features and skills at various times and impacts, damaged Arxulet’s red scales. But their fight seemed to never end as they hovered above the village; Arxulet knowing he’d lose this battle but wasn’t about to hand the victory over easily. During his lifetime, he had never encountered a creature such as Abraxas with such unnatural and supernatural abilities and origins. There were endless storms of fire spat upon another, along with scratches and bites.As Abraxas breathed deeply bellowing a massive flame, it was then he felt a sharp pain race through his serpentine body; his bellow fading as he glanced toward the field. Arxulet, breathing heavily, followed his gaze taking notice of a cluster of warriors gathered around someone in their center.

“Could it be Arxulet taunted, could it be your precious Mother that what distracts you!?”

Abraxas didn’t answer as he attempted to search for our connection but it felt so faint; almost gone. He roared shaking his head, knowing he couldn’t dwell on the fear then turned his gaze upon Arxulet warning fiercely with his deep voice,

“You want war? Then war is what you’ll get, Red Death and I will give it you!”

“Come then…” Arxulet proclaimed as he grew weaker; barely able to keep his pattern in flight.

Abraxas slithered upward high above the Red Death then turned, making a nose-dive downward in one fast straight line, grabbing onto Arxulet’s body from above, pushing him down until he crashed into the harbor warehouse; building collapsing from Arxulet’s weight. Marxus’ yacht and sea plane sunk and broke apart; their debris sinking beneath the water. Arxulet lifted his head trying to exhale but Abraxas grabbed his head with his two front feet, slamming his head several times against the collapsing steel beams and frames reinforcing the structure from outside weather conditions. Abraxas released his grasp slithering into the air, staring upon his fallen enemy. Breathing heavily, he glanced toward the field continuing to worry but his focus was distracted; Arxulet’s laughter entering his thoughts.

“You Mother is no more.” he mocked, “She is dead. She is no more.”

“No, Arxulet…it’s you that is no more.” Abraxas raged, snarling his snout viciously.

“Mm, I might appear defeated but this battle is not yet over.”

“But it is, Arxulet. It is. You’re far too wounded to continue, so there’s no sense in fighting anymore. Let this end. Let go of your hatred toward all things because I don’t want to destroy you. I don’t want to kill my own kind.” Abraxas pleaded.

“But my hatred is all I have! Look at me!” Arxulet slowly slithered from the ground blinking his yellow eyes, “I was never like this; shackled against my will. I was once free; free among the fires’ depth of my home but then that Necromancer came and took that from me, so you do not dare to order me to let go of my hatred when that is all that has kept me going. And you are not of my kind, Black Prince so we will continue this battle until we fight no more. But heed my warning, young dragon. Your MOTHER, if she survives the Necromancer’s poison, will someday enslave you against your will with an iron shackle of your own, as did my Master.”

“No. She will not. I am bonded to her eternally yes, but I belong to no one. She already knows that.” Abraxas groaned.

“I am never wrong.” Axrulet breathed heavily then thrusted his serpentine body toward Abraxas who swiftly twirled around clear from his enemy’s grasp and with Arxulet giving everything he had left into this fight, Abraxas was far too strong.

Facing each other, Arxulet inhaled deeply building his bellow as did Abraxas, and releasing his flame; a deep reddish-orange shade, Abraxas released his dragon’s fire hotter than Hell itself simultaneously, wiping the Red Death’s flame from the sky. Making impact against the serpent’s red scales, he roared in agonizing pain. He couldn’t take another hit but he wouldn’t end without a fight; attempting his last bellow but Abraxas flew straight through the flames with no damage done.

Abraxas roared, grabbing onto Arxulet with his massive and powerful jaws yet again, but around his upper neck beneath his jaw, pushing him toward the village. Green blood spilled from the wound; like water being thrown from a cup. Continuing to slither downward with Arxulet’s agonizing screams roaring in his ear, Abraxas released his hold throwing his enemy away with a firm swing, impaling him through an exposed chest wound on the speared point of the island’s tall radio tower. Blood poured from the gaping wound, spilling down the tower painting it in a thick green goo. Abraxas hovered with sadness in his eyes, listening as the Red Death’s roars subsided; replaced with low moans of discomfort from the weight of the shackle bound around his neck. He weakly lifted his head gazing upon the Black Prince’s powerful and magnificent form through vision beginning to blur.

“You Black Prince...were a formidable opponent indeed and I have never...battled a creature with such strength and power.” Arxulet admired in a low tiring tone.

“And neither have I, as were you a formidable adversary. I could tell you were quite the magnificent creature once in your past but there’s still time to make things right.” Abraxas stared into Arxulet’s eyes catching a glimpse of regret, knowing he had no choice but to do the things he’d done, “I may not be able to erase the things you’ve done, Arxulet...but I can give you what you wish.”

“And what is that?” Arxulet lowered his head.

“To die a free dragon; not bound or shackled to anyone’s will.” Abraxas revealed telepathically.

“I do not understand. Why would you show such kindness after everything I have done!?” Arxulet complained.

“Because my MOTHER...taught me kindness goes a long way but only so far before it’s taken advantage of.” Abraxas proclaimed softly in a verbal tongue focusing his attention upon the collar, “Now hold still…” he held his head back then lunged it forward and in a blowtorch-like flame, he directed it at the iron collar; melting a straight line down the side of the metal creating a seam that broke free, once forced apart. In two pieces, Abraxas removed the shackle throwing them away into the Irish Sea creating a loud splash, before immediately sinking below the surface. As soon as the collar was removed, Arxulet exhaled a long sigh of contentment as he closed his eyes.

Breathing heavily for the last time he whispered,

“Thank you, Black Prince. I hope your demi-demon Mother survives long enough to see your magnificent potential. But now...I...am...free...” then his breathing slowly ceased in a long exhale.

Abraxas hovered above him and holding his head toward the sky, he roared in sadness then gazed downward, watching as Arxulet’s red scales began disintegrating; embers flying through the air and into the wind. Once vanished from sight completely, Abraxas slithered higher into the air above the island then focused on our connection; still distant and growing further away. All that was; an overwhelming pain. He roared for the last time as he slithered down above the field, in large circular twirls and turns, glowing brightly in his own fiery red Aura.

“Mother!” his voice cried out telepathically and shrinking bit-by-bit until once more, he returned to his smaller size, falling from the sky in a rapid pace. Becoming unconscious and making contact with the ground, he left a medium sized crater beneath his small form. The ground rumbled, and the impact was heard throughout the field alerting all of his downfall...in a literal sense.

Derek limped across the field alongside Lt. Forester toward Abraxas’ location, discovering his small lump laying in a crater’s center. Without a thought, Derek slid down the slope; dirt flying around him, until landing beside Abraxas, speaking to him softly. As he knelt down gently picking him up, the small creature laid limp in his muscular arms; his wings, head and tail hanging over. He quickly stroked the dragon’s scales along his neck then turned, climbing out of the crater. Lt. Forester reached out his hands, grabbing onto one of Derek’s wrists pulling him out and once standing there searching the field, they observed figures gathering around.

“Over there…” Forester pointed out, then patted his friends’ back, leading him toward the crowd.

Derek cradled the small dragon in his arms like a baby, continuing to limp ahead.

“Hey, over here!” Derek hollered out.

Taking a moment away, Natash stood to her feet sprinting toward Derek, examining Abraxas in his muscular arms.

“What happened?” she questioned, “He’s not…dead, is he?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Derek muttered, “I’m guessing the fall knocked him unconscious…”

“No, it wasn’t the fall.” Natash worried then glanced over her shoulder, “Hold…just hold onto him until we get her to the hospital, yes?” she instructed.

“Sure thing.” Derek nodded.

“Good.”

“Natash!” Azir’s voice called for her, “I need you, now!”

Without being called a second time, Natash returned to her husband’s side, crouching alongside Erik. She attempted to reach out her hands but Erik lashed out, pushing them away.

“Erik…” she grabbed hold of his wrists firmly looking deep into his gray eyes, “that’s enough! My kin and I will do everything to help her but if you’re going to fight us on it, then let her die! I have to examine the wound and now let me help her!” her voice was firm and loud.

“Someone find Anthony!” Azir added, “NOW! She’d want him here.”

Erik frowned, hearing Azir’s instructions.

Jinn nearby nodded then turned, sprinting across the field beginning their search for the Italian, as was his older brother.

Natash gently leaned over the young woman’s petite body laying on her side, touching the fabric of the suit soaked in blood. Swiping her index finger across the thick blood, she gave it a quick taste before spitting it out immediately. Natash wasn’t only her kin’s Shamaness, but she was also one of the best healers. She frowned glancing at Azir with worried eyes then she focused on the Kunai’s hilt and applying the slightest pressure to examine the depth of the blade, the hilt vanished from the blade that embedded too deep to be removed by hand. Once the hilt disappeared, the young woman’s body jerked in place as the blade sunk deeper and regardless of her unconscious state, she managed to scream in sheer agonizing pain; her screams echoed across the field, even from the village if one were there.


Lady D walked through the castle’s kitchen carrying a tray of cups filled with hot tea when she suddenly felt a sharp pain through her chest. She gasped, dropping the tray as she leaned against the kitchen isle-counter holding onto her chest. The tray created a loud clatter attracting the attention of women who came rushing at the sound. They muttered words, crowding around the woman who felt tears stinging her eyes.

“Lady D...are you alright!? What’s wrong!?” a woman asked, holding onto her arm.

“I don’t know.” she gasped, “I feel...I felt...a horrible pain right...here…” she held her hands to her shoulder and chest, “I can’t describe it, but...I think it’s…my daughter. I feel it.”

“What’s taking so bloody long for that tea, Lady…” Katrina rushed into the room, “by the Heavens, what happened!? What’s wrong!?”

The women explained the occurrence of the mother’s fears.

“Alright, Lady D look at me…” Katrina urged raising her gaze, “look at me, now. I know how important your daughter is to you, but there’s no hope in fearing the worst before knowing the truth, eh? Come with me…” she gently escorted my mom out of the kitchen and upstairs to her room.

The others left behind in the kitchen quickly gathered the tray and shattered tea cups then immediately wiped the floor clean. They put on more kettles of water on the stove then stood in the doorway, waiting for Katrina to descend the stairs.

“Lay down, Lady D…” Katrina instructed.

“No. I need to get back to the island and find out what’s happened.” Lady D argued, gently pushing the helping hands away.

“Bloody hell, woman...you’re not the only one fearing the worst for those left on the island so quiet your badgering and whining, and let me help you!” Katrina’s Irish temper brewed to the surface, “If you lay down now...I promise you I’ll try and get in touch with someone on the island and bring that news straight to you, alright!?”

“Straight to me.” Lady D stared into the Irish woman’s eyes.

“You have my word.” Katrina placed her hands on my mom’s shoulder, “Rest now…”

Lady D breathed heavily, not liking the sensation of the pain as she laid back against fluffy pillows. She stared at the stone ceiling listening as Katrina slowly left; her feet fading out as she strolled down the hall. She waited then swung her legs over the ledge of the bed into a sitting position then reached into her bag, searching for her radio-phone. She called the island’s main number, Azir’s line and even that of Hiromi’s but none of the calls went through. All that answered were the recordings stating that calls can’t be made at this time.

“Sh*t!” she cursed, throwing her phone across the room; the device shattering against the wall, “Oh, no...no-no…” she knelt on the ground, retrieving all the small gadgets that spewed from the device.

Katrina descended the stairs; greeted by curious and worried faces. She explained my mom was relaxed and comfortable, although they all knew the Keeper’s mother would only play along long enough to fool those she needed to.

“There’s nothing we can do.” Katrina muttered, “She wants me to contact the island but I can’t.”

“Why not!?” a woman asked fearfully.

“Because the phones aren’t working. None of them are.” Katrina revealed, “I mean, they won’t connect because there’s no signal coming from the island.” she held up her phone, dialing numbers in her contact list but the same message played for each call, “So, all we can do now, is hope for the best and wait until Azir arrives, giving us the word everything is safe and that we can go home.” she studied the faces of her fellow wiccans who were mothers, sisters, wives and daughters; all fearing for their husbands, brothers, sons and fathers. She gathered them in the lounge, instructing all the wiccans and warlocks to concentrate and focus; perhaps maybe a message or sign will come to them.


Erik lashed out, pushing away the Jinn’s hands,

“What did you do!?”

“Erik Sheng-su!” Hiromi cried in a commanding voice, “They’re trying everything to help her and you show them disrespect!? You need to calm yourself...NOW!”

“No!” Erik argued, “They’ve done enough!” he grunted aggressively, “Azir, get away from her!”

“Listen, boy and you listen well!” Azir affirmed; his golden eyes leered toward Erik, “I know you care for her, but if you care as much as you claim, you’ll allow us to care for her in a Jinn’s manner. This is beyond anything we’ve ever seen and far beyond your comprehension! Now, if you want to sit here and argue and push us away, then we’ll allow you to be the one to explain to her mother why her life wasn’t saved so you have two choices, Demon.” he frowned, “One, you’ll back away and let us help her or two...let her die as Natash originally stated!”

“Erik, mate...come on…” Caleb pleaded shifting his weight, “let them help her, yeah? They know what they’re bloody dealing with so…”

“Bugger off, Caleb!” Erik snapped.

Invisible to all eyes, Lilith walked among the injured soldiers when her eyes laid upon a limp figure. She sped in her demonic swiftness, standing behind the Nubian Jinn that examined her petite doppleganger’s body and wounds.

“Oh, in Lucifer’s name…” she whispered her feet, “no, this can’t be...no.” she knelt alongside Azir, examining the wound herself then raised her eyes, listening to the bickering back and forth.

She frowned, releasing a demonic growl then stood; her voice booming in rage as she appeared in a burst of red flames,

“ENOUGH!” and all glancing their gaze behind the Jinn there I stood, or they thought it was I, “She doesn’t have much time so stop your god damn bickering and get her to the hospital! And you boy…” she pointed her clawed finger toward Erik, “if you care about her as much as you claim, allow the Jinn to save her!” she looked up at the Nubian husband and wife, “You might want to hurry. Her life hangs by a thread and if you delay a moment longer, she’ll be lost forever.” then she disappeared, leaving behind the scent of sulfur.

“Who the bloody hell was that!?” Justin pondered, “I mean, it was Yza but she’s laying there and yet she was standing there!? Aye, mate...this place is getting stranger every minute.”

“Now isn’t the time for questions.” Azir affirmed, ignoring the woman’s strange presence, “Azim, get her to the hospital now. Natash, my love…” he stood with hiswife, “get Zanzabarr and Abraxas to the clinic.”

“But there’s nothing left in the village!” Caleb added, “It’s all been destroyed, mate!”

“Not all of it!” Azim argued.

“That’s all good but who’s going to care for her? There’s no one at the hospital!” Nick also added.

Azir frowned, remembering that everyone must have by now, retreated to the Irish castle. He stood, ordering remaining guards nearby to retrieve the residents from their safe haven in Ireland and to alert them the war has ended. They vanished in their pillars of light, appearing on the lawn that graced the Irish castle before them. They slowly approached and before they could knock on the doors, they swung open; curious and worried faces stared at them. Frightened residents remained silent as the Jinn entered the structure; their striking but disgruntled appearance was something to behold, as their armor shone brightly despite being covered in colored blood; their swords hidden away in their sheathes. Questions were rushed from mouths and before the Jinn could answer, Lady D pushed her way through the crowded entrance foyer.

“Tell me…” she urged before anyone else could speak, “is my daughter alright!?”

“Is the war over!?” Katrina asked.

“Yes…” a Jinn woman spoke glancing in Katrina’s direction.

“And my daughter!?” Lady D’s voice cracked, “Tell me, please!”

The Jinn placed her hands upon the mother’s trembling shoulders and just the look in her golden eyes, answered her question.

“Oh my god…” she cried, “no, no…” her knees felt faint as she leaned against the Jinn woman who held her in her arms comfortably.

“The island is safe and we’re to bring you back to your homes. If you choose to, that choice is yours. We will leave a portal open but it’ll only last for a few hours before interfering with the natural balance of things between dimensions.” a Jinn male spoke knowledgeably, “So, for those of you who are ready to return, gather your things quickly and meet us outside.” he gestured behind him then instructed firmly, “And those of you who are medical professionals, are needed now at the hospital.”

A black male stepped forward; tall and dressed in casual attire but wore an ID badge clipped to his sweater. His name was Richard Matthews; he was a Wraith of 267 years and has dedicated his eternity to the field of medicine. Instead of killing by feeding, he chose to heal others, He gathered his large medical bag, speaking loudly over the chorus of voices with a deep raspy English voice,

“Take me there now!”

The Jinn stepped aside, allowing him and many others to pass then following them outside, the Jinn had led them far away enough from the castle; opening a massive portal that linked between the two islands before curious and worried residents. Sparks and flickers gave form to the massive doorway; the Isle’s harbor appearing on the other side.

“Quickly now!” the Jinn instructed, ushering the residents to pass through.

Lady D continued crying as the Jinn woman escorted her outside.

“At least tell me, please...is my daughter still alive?” she begged.

“Yes, but it’s not looking good for her.” the Jinn answered truthfully, “And if we stand here all day, my Lady D...there won’t be much time to spend with her, so please...just come with me and I’ll take you to her, yes?” the Jinn nodded.

In a frantic state, she nodded quickly then glanced toward the portal and for every person, the travel through is different and the Jinn worried that in such a delicate state, the woman wouldn’t be able to handle the shift between dimensions so holding onto her hands, the Jinn instructed Lady D to close her eyes and although reluctant, she grew to trust and admire the Nubian beings. Suddenly, she felt a rush of peace flood over; a peace that placed her in a moment of euphoric slumber.

Katrina gasped in worry, watching as the Keeper’s mother laid limp in the Jinn’s arms as she gently fell to her knees.

“What did you do!?” she argued, “What magic is this!?”

“Relax, witch! I would not harm her!” the Jinn woman spoke sharply.

“But what have you done to her!?”

“She’s just sleeping.” the Jinn stood, carrying the woman in her arms as if she weighed nothing, “Now move along, witch. This doesn’t concern you.” she turned away, disappearing in a green burst of light that was so sudden, it occurred in a blink.

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