London, England, 2016
David Carter watched his cold coat. He ran in the June rain towards the Library of the Arcane; he hadn't imagined that the darkness of the house he lived inside. The bright lamps illuminated the arches. His short, black hair was cut from the barber's yesterday morning.
He had paid for it himself.
On the ground was a 5 pound note.
He picked it up with his right hand, and went inside the front door.
The girl, Amie Gordon, twelve, looked at the boy.
She smiled at him, as she placed a book back on the shelf. 'Are you lost?', she asked him.
'Oh, I am looking for a book called The Magician's Nephew, the C S Lewis fantasy novel. I'm David Carter'.
'Amie Gordon. I'm Irish'.
'Let me see. It's the children's section with Harry Potter'.
'Oh, good. I like the Chronicles of Narnia series'.
She grabbed the novel, and gave it to him.
'The hardcover edition', Amie said.
He nodded, and started to read it in the Quiet Reading Room.
David watched several boys were smiling at him.
'New here? I'm Mark Greyson'.
'David Carter'.
'You're new at the Library'.
'Yes, I have a card'.
'I have, too. Besides, I am with Amie'.
'Really. She doesn't know about the Magical Section of the Library', Mark said. David thought about what he was saying.
'I know about the dark elves are in there'.
'Dark Elves. Maybe; maybe not. Besides...'.
'Leave him alone, Mark', Amie said.
And he smiled, and left David to read the book.
Amie watched the group of magicians.
'How are you doing?', she asked them.
'Fine, I'd like to borrow this book please', David answered.
'Got your card?', Amie said.
'Yes', David said.
'No. You need to get a magical card from the Grand Warlock of New York'.
'Is there a Grand Wizard?'.
'Yes, and he is my father. Simon Gordon'.
'I read about him. He works for the Library'.
'Yes, for four decades'.
'I see'.
He gave the library card to her.
'Let me see. I'll scan it on the I-phone. We can use modern technology these days; we can use magic if the need arises', Amie said.
And David smiled, as the book's ticket was pressed.
'You can take it back after two weeks' time'.
'Fine, I read fast', David explained.
Amie smiled, and grabbed a cooking book off the shelf.
She used her own library card, scanned it, then took it out herself.
In the Library of the Arcane, David headed to the Restroom.
He washed his hands with a towel that was on the silvery rack on the grey wall. As he opened the door, he saw Amie. 'Wizard's tea, David?', she asked him. 'I didn't know there was such a thing, Amie. Yes, I'd like that, thank you', he answered. She nodded, and poured two goblin sized goblets for them.
Then they drank the tea that kept the children warm.
The time flew by.
The door opened, and David's parents arrived.
'David'.
'Yes, Dad'.
'I was at a meeting, and your Mother asked me to get you at the Library'. He smiled at the book.
'I read The Magician's Nephew when I was seven in school'.
'Yes'.
'I remembered the Professor, and the magic rings to get you into Narnia. A magical place. And the lamp in the sequel, The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. Look at the time'.
'Hi, I'm Amie Gordon. My father owns the Library'.
'And your mother?'.
'She's in Melbourne, Australia. They're separated'.
'I'm sorry'.
'No. I don't care about her. She's a half-witch'.
Then he walked towards the front door.
David looked at the house.
'I'm sure school will be good tomorrow', John Carter said.
'Yes, it will be. Besides, I have friends now', David smiled.
'Good. Now, let's have some German sausages, vegetables, and English mild mustard for dinner'.
'I'd like that, Dad'.
And he waited until his father took off his seatbelt, and opened the driver's-side door, and grabbed a key. He went inside the house, as David saw a group of goblins in the distance going to the Library of the Arcane.
He frowned.
Then he waited for them to leave.
He didn't want to tell his father what he had seen.
David watched the news on television.
The BBC newsreader, Elizabeth Gare, said: 'In London today, there was a lot of talk of the biting cold front across the city. Martin Cross, a wizard, was taken to the Library of the Arcane, his whereabouts is unknown. Thunder and lightning happened near Times Square, where Patricia Holden, the Minister for Young People, was missing from her press conference, stating she was ill...'.
David looked at the windows, and the rain was heavier as the night fell overnight. He read the book he was reading. 'I need to go to bed, Dad. Good night!'.
'Good night, David'. And David went to the bathroom, turned the light off, then he brushed the teeth. Then he went to the Restroom, washed his hands, dried his hands, and went to bed.
It was 8:30 PM.
The next morning, around seven-thirty AM, David got out of bed.
He opened the bathroom door, and flicked on the bright light. After he had a shower, he washed his hands with a blue colored towel. Then he was dressed. Today was school, and he smiled at the thought of going there.
By the afternoon, he would go back to the Library of the Arcane.
The school gates was guarded by guards.
David was known to go to American schools, where security was tight. The English system, especially in Eton, Cambridge, and other schools in the United Kingdom, was different from the US experience. David loved the United States, but there was an air of anxiety that was hard to define. Maybe it was because of his mother's love that caused him to deal with his family conflicts over the last three years', or more. 'Now, let's go to the halls. Ask someone if you're lost, okay'.
'Yes, Dad'.
'Fine, I'll pick you up at 4:00 PM'.
'Okay, Dad. See you then. Good bye!'.
'Good bye, David'.
And he drove away, before he headed to the office in London.
The teacher, Amanda James, smiled.
'You're lost?', she asked.
'Ah, yes. The room is...number 43a', David answered.
'Yes. I'm the History teacher'.
'Good, I love history'.
'That's good. The room is to the left of the hallway'.
'Thank you. I need a key for the locker. It was like in New York'.
'You've been there?'.
'Mom was there, before she moved to Australia'.
'I see. Please go inside. Class is in ten minutes'.
'Thank you', David said. He walked to the room, where the other students sat on their brown colored seats.
The bell rang, and the morning had started.
Amie watched David.
'Oh, it is you. I hope the book is good'.
'It is, Amie. Besides, I have Amanda to show me around the school'.
'The teacher'.
'Yes'.
She sat next to him, and the teacher arrived to begin.
At lunchtime, David and Amie eat their lunch.
'Not many teenagers are ready to go to the Library of the Arcane. You can visit it soon if you like', Amie said.
'Yes, Dad is picking me up at 4:00 PM'.
'Maybe tomorrow then. You got the book still?'.
'Yes, it's really good', David said.
Amie smiled, and the class ended.
John looked at the time.
He was eager to send the manuscript to Diane Gordon, his Editor. She was eager to publish his children's novel called The Dark Hall, a fantasy action novel he worked on in his private study, where books were in the mahogany bookcase. He drove to the front gate.
'David!'.
'Hi, Dad. This is Amie. She has family in the Library'.
'Hi, Amie. How's school?', he asked.
'Fine, David borrowed a book from there. Is it okay for him to go after school?', Amie answered.
'Sure. I can pick him up by 5:00 PM tomorrow. It's Tuesday right. We have pizzas for dinner.
'You can come over if you like. If your parents don't mind'.
'I live with my Uncle in the Library. Mum and Dad are divorced'.
'I'm sorry'.
'Don't be. It's for the best'.
'We can see a movie together as well', David said.
'I'd like that, David', Amie smiled.
She waved, and the door closed.
Then John drove away.
'Do you like school, David?', John asked him.
'Yes, the Library, and teachers, are good. I was looking around the rooms to read in the study. And food and drink, as well as Restrooms', he answered. John nodded. 'Nothing like a modern place, huh'.
David didn't say about the weird creatures like the goblins. He thought his father would be thinking his son was seeing things. The car stopped near the front door; the feeling of being watched preyed on his mind. Then it left. David grabbed his bags, and went inside the house, and closed the door behind him.
The day dragged on and on.
David read the book in the bedroom.
He finished reading a chapter, then he did some boring homework. The smell of food wafted in the Dining Room; the weather was cold due to the rain. He opened the door, he went to the room, where his father smiled.
'Hungry!'.
'Yes, Dad. I'm glad to be at school'.
'That's good', John said.
Then they ate dinner.
David watched television.
After seeing 'The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe' movie, he yawned, then he went to sleep.
Tuesday morning
London, England, 2016
David awoke.
The cold London sky was full of darkness due to the freezing rain.
'Dad!', he said.
His father was smiling.
'Breakfast. Eggs, bacon, German sausages, and ketchup'.
'Great!', David said.
And he ate at the table on a grey colored chair, as he was looking forward to school. It was 8:00 AM when he was dressed, and his bags were on the ground. He opened the door, and saw Amie.
'My Uncle said you can come to the Library today'.
'Ah, sure', David said.
'I'll write today. 5:00 PM at the Library'.
'Yes, Dad', David said.
He smiled, as he left to go to Amie's grey 2000 car.
It was said, in the olden times, that warlocks and witches, lived in London, and other parts of the United Kingdom; it was, (and for all the centuries), told to children, that the Magical People, were a figment of their bright imaginations; it was something that evoked a serious problem between their kind, and the humans. None of them were magical; none of them could cast spells at will. Unless boys and girls could do arcane magic in their homes, or at the woods. Or the cheap estate houses in Essex, Cornwall, (which was cold all of the time); or other places across England. David had read about the Irish towns of Dublin, and Belfast.
'We're nearly here, David. This is Charles Price, the driver'.
'Hello, Charles. I'm David'.
'Hello, David. We'll talk more when we arrive at the Library. Ah! There it is'. He finished driving, and headed to the wrought-iron gate that creaked. Charles stopped. He took off his black seatbelt, and opened the driver's-side door, then he went outside.
'Let's go!', Charles said.
And Amie, and Charles, grabbed their bags, and were at the Library.
The group of children were studying at the arches.
They saw David.
'You're back', Jim Frasier said.
'Yes', David told him.
'You're not a warlock's son', Jim said.
'No. I am not a warlock. David Carter'.
'You're with Amie, the Librarian's daughter'.
'Yes', David told him.
'There's a lot of magicians here. I'm the son of a warlock'.
'I see'.
'If you need to talk to Father, let me know. Good bye!'.
'Good bye!'.
And David left him alone.
Amie spoked.
'Be careful of Jim. He is dabbling in arcane magic'.
'Arcane magic'.
'Yes, old magic that is darker than I deal with'.
'Is that bad?', David asked her.
'Yes. His family are rich in London', Amie answered.
'I want to know more about you, and your family, Amie', David said. She smiled at him, and kissed him.
David blushed, and they were friends.
Mark looked at the book.
'I am sure, in the scheme of things, the dark goblins will strike London. As you know, Kryll, is a servant to Moorch, the Goblin Lord, is planning a raid. That's why the Library has a magical barrier to protect ourselves from battle'.
He sipped a goblet of wizard's tea, and relaxed on a mahogany chair in the warm fireplace.
Thomas G. Blake, Jr., the American warlock, stood near the 'M' section of the Library of the Arcane; the whispers of the other wizards, and witches, prayed on his mind; the girl witches whispered in low tones. His grey cloak was shining. It touched the marble floor, which was cleaned regularly by elf cleaners. He watched them, and sipped his wizard tea. The aroma of the drink wafted across his mouth, as he savored the taste, as he grabbed a slice of cherry pie, that was his favorite. The Library was American in parts; in other parts it was very English. 'Are you alright?', Diane Moore, a witch, asked him.
'Yes. I heard there was new people in the Library', he answered.
'Yes, an American boy, David Carter'.
'I don't know him. His family isn't magical'.
'No, but he has an aura about him'.
'Aura'.
'Yes, I believe he is a young scribe'.
'A scribe'.
'Yes, but his parents, as I heard about, are human'.
'I see. I shall meet him soon'.
'Will you join me for morning tea?'.
'Yes, I'd like that', Thomas said.
And Diane smiled, as visitors started to arrive through the front doors of the Library of the Arcane.
Tuesday afternoon
London, England, 2016
Donald Baxter hovered above the frigid city.
He watched the Thames River, and saw the rowers. It was a cold, miserable afternoon by Midday; it was, as it was something unknown in his mind, that gripped him, as he imagined the place in which the darkness was gone. He looked around; he was thinking about Rose Marchand, his ex-girlfriend. She looked at the road, and went the long way around, that led to the House of Lost People, where strangers met, and secrets were consumed by the Masters of Magic. Donald saw the two goblins who were asleep at their posts; they were snoring heavily. He tip-toed around them, and headed to the front door.
He tapped on the Dragon's Knocker with his right hand.
The door opened, and an elf servant girl appeared.
'May I help you?', she asked him.
'Yes, I'd like to know what time the Library is open', he answered.
'All day', she said.
'Thank you. May I go inside?', he asked.
'Yes. I'm Cara Robertson'.
'Donald Baxter'.
He saw the lamps were illuminating the Library.
'Did you see the goblin guards were asleep?'.
'Yes, but they're on night duty'.
'Really'.
'The owner of the Library is in his Study'.
'I don't want to disturb him'.
And he walked to the warm fireplace, where other warlocks, witches, and magic folk, greeted him.
David watched the girl witch.
She wore a black hat on her head, a grey gown, and black boots on her small feet. She was wearing a broom in her small, left hand. 'Hello. I'm Alana James'. David smiled. 'Hello. I'm David Carter. I am a reader of books in the Library of the Arcane'. She nodded.
'I'm the daughter of George James, the Grand Warlock of London'.
'The hat is nice'.
'Mom brought it for me'.
She had an American accent with a mixture of British thrown in with good measure. She noticed the same accent in him.
'Do you go to school?', David asked her.
'Yes, I have to look after Mom. She's sick'.
'I'm sorry'.
'Just a mild cold. A lot of herbal tea with lemons. I'm a herbalist'.
'I love herbs'.
'Really. That's good. I have a garden at home'.
'Gardens, and herbs, go together', David said.
'I agree. I know you are friends with Amie'.
'Oh, she let me borrow a C S Lewis fantasy book'.
'I love The Chronicles of Narnia', Alana said.
'The Magician's Nephew is my favorite book', David said.
'David, is my cousin bothering you?', Amie asked him.
'No. Alana is your cousin', David answered.
'Yes, she's a half-witch', Amie said.
'She has magical powers', David enquired.
'Yes, same as I do', Amie said.
'I've read several chapters of the C S Lewis book'.
'Are you enjoying it?'.
'Yes'.
'Good. I'm reading The Hobbit at the moment by J R R Tolkien'.
'I read it two years' ago', David said.
Suddenly more witches, and wizards, as well as warlocks, arrived at the front door. They wore different colored hats, bright robes, colorful boots on their feet. Donald Baxter, and Cara Robertson, were warming their hands by the warm fireplace. David noticed them.
'They're new here', he said.
'Donald and Cara have been here for a year. They're half-witches, and half-warlocks. They're powerful magic users', Amie said.
Donald turned around.
'Good afternoon. I'm Donald. This is my friend, Cara'.
'Hello. I'm David Carter. I'm a half-magician'.
'Welcome to the Library of the Arcane', Cara said.
When the introductions ended, they started to read for the next hour.
Tuesday evening
London, England, 2016
John drove to the Library.
He didn't see the goblins, who were asleep.
David waited for him.
'Shall we go?', John asked.
'Yes', David answered.
He waved at Amie, and he got into the passenger-side door.
He put the seatbelt on, and closed it.
John drove towards the house nearby.
David was looking forward to the night time to come.
Tomorrow would be a new day in London.
Wednesday morning
London, England, 2016
The cold, frosty, London sky dragged everyone down.
David ate his breakfast with his father.
'Dad, why did Mom leave us?', he asked him.
'We disagreed with your education in New York. It was financial reasons', John answered.
'And she went to Melbourne, Australia'.
'Yes, the job in the city paid more than in the United States. Besides, she has a new husband, Tod Krane'.
'Oh'.
'Yes, he is a gardener'.
'I see'.
'The point is, she pays money every month until you're eighteen'.
'Good. But, can I see her...'.
'No', John told him.
David sighed, and knew the subject of his family was over.
He ate hungrily, and then he was prepared for school.
David headed to the car.
John looked at his teenage son.
'I hope you have a good time at school. Are you going to the Library again?', he asked him.
'Yes. Pick me up at 5:00 PM, Dad'.
'Sure, no problem, David'.
And he let him go out of the car, closed it, and headed back home.
The school was full.
Amanda James sipped her wizard's tea.
'You're a witch', David said.
'I'm a witch, yes, David. Some of us have day jobs', she said.
'I came to the Library of the Arcane because only magical children could see it', David said.
'Yes, your Mom was a half-witch'.
'Was she?', David asked her.
'Yes, she and I were friends', Amanda answered.
'I didn't know that', David said.
'Yes, she left for Melbourne because she fell out of love your father. But, she did love you, David. I am glad that you're here. Amie is my Goddaughter', she said.
'I...am...surprised', David nodded.
Amie walked to the Office.
'Excuse me, Miss James...Oh, David', Amie blushed.
'Hello, Amie. Would you like to go out with me tomorrow night? We can see a movie, if you like', he said.
'I'd like to', Amie said.
'Great! Here's the book I borrowed'.
'Thank you, Amie. Would you like to go to class with me?'.
'Yes', Amie smiled.
And they left the teacher alone, just as the bell rang.
The girl saw David.
She looked at Amie.
'Hello. I didn't now a magician's son was here'.
'I'm sorry. Do I know you?', he asked her.
'I'm Madeline Hurter. Second generation witch', she answered.
'My Mom was a with; my Dad is a human'.
'I see'.
'Yeah, I don't think you're in need of someone who needs you. Amie and I are together'.
'That's great. I knew you two would be so'.
'You did?', Amie asked.
'Yes. Now, let's go to the Room of Books', Madeline answered.
The Room of Books was place in which there was rare, obscure, and classic books in the children's, fantasy, and non-fiction sections on the shelves in the middle of the spacious room; wizards, witches, and warlocks, were dressed in robes. The fireplace was warm, keeping the boys, and girls, and teenagers eager to work in silence.
'There, see! I told you about the boy', Abel Thornton said.
'Hush, Abel. They can hear you', Delia Thornton, his sister, said.
He nodded, and kept his mouth closed, in case he got into more trouble.
David, Amie, and Madeline, strode forward.
The group of six children were smiling at the visitors.
A tall, sixteen year old wizard appeared.
'Good morning, Madeline. How're you doing?', Malcolm Hurter asked her.
'Good. This is David Carter, and his girlfriend, Amie Gordon', she answered. He waited, before he nodded.
'The Gordon family are known at the Library of the Arcane'.
'Yes, I know', Madeline said.
And she grabbed a book off the shelf, and read silently.
David went to the Restroom.
The humans weren't aware the magical aspects of the Library.
The lights became on.
It illuminated the small area.
After he washed his hands, he heard the sound of voices.
'The darkness came here at the Library. It's the goblins fault, Simpkins...'.
Simpkins! Who is Simpkins?, he thought to himself.
He looked at the door.
It was open.
He went inside, and saw Amie.
'There you are', she said.
'Let's meet at lunch time'.
'Fine by me'.
'You need to go to the Library', Amie said.
'I am', David said.
'Good. There's a lot of people who don't know what they do to our kind', Madeline said.
'Have you heard about someone called Simpkins?'.
'Yes, Oswald P. Simpkins. He's a Warlock's Apprentice'.
'I heard people refer to him', David said.
'Security is lax', Amie said.
'Can we meet him?', David asked her.
'No. He's in Paris, France', Madeline answered.
'Then, let's find him', Amie suggested.
'No. He doesn't want to be found'.
'That's too bad', David sighed.
Then the bell rang for class.
Diane Moore stood near the mirror.
She saw Thomas was seeing her Dragons.
'Nice, Diane'.
'Yes. Dad got them from Cornwall, England, three years' ago'.
'They're collectibles'.
'Yes, they are'.
'What about the witch's son?', he asked her.
'David Carter', Diane answered.
'Yes'.
'Apparently, he got away from the goblins, who were asleep at their posts outside the Library of the Arcane'.
'A problem for the owner'.
'Yes'.
'Does he know about the breach?'.
'Yes, but he hasn't left the study'.
'Oh, dear'.
'Yes, I'm afraid so'.
'Then, let's talk to him', Diane said.
And Thomas smiled.
Wednesday afternoon
London, England, 2016
The dark cold of London, caused David to shiver.
He focused on the starkness of the afternoon. Some of the witches, wizards, and warlocks, were dressed in their robes; some walked around holding their books from the Library of the Arcane; some whispered to each other in code, unless they wanted to be heard---those who didn't want to be heard, watched those who dared bother them, letting out their own disdain for them, as the whispers became louder down the dark halls.
David watched, then waited.
Then he reached the room where others smiled at him.
The man stood near the throng of people.
They were witches, and wizards. His face lit up the colored stones. He picked one up; he threw it at the glistening water. There was a loud splash. He heard the sound of footsteps. He turned around, and watched the girl in a blue robe walking on the stones.
She slipped.
'Get up! Or you'll injure yourself. I'm Harry Gordon'.
'Theresa Faulkner'.
'Please come to the Library of the Arcane. It's safer there', Harry said.
She nodded, and followed him towards the Library.
David waited.
He was thinking about his Mom, and Dad.
The trips to Melbourne, Australia, was for a week, or two. He wanted to deal with the darkness himself; the darkness was full of people who were magical-born Children of Lost Time, centuries ago. The children were working on the ceremonies that were religious in nature.
Some escaped; some stayed.
The time was three o'clock.
He knew the Library was closing by 8:00 PM.
David, Cara, Donald, and Cara, sat on the Gray Chairs. Jim watched them. 'You're back', he said.
'Yes. I am', David told him.
'Is it true your Mother is a witch?', Jim asked him.
'Yes, she left me with Dad', David answered.
'My parents are divorced. Long story'.
'Mine are too. They were fighting all of the time about my education', Cara said. She started to cry.
'It's alright', Jim said.
As they relaxed, the bell rang again, and the voices returned.
The swirling mists of the Beyond dimmed.
For a long time, the Hags of the Deep Shadows, were preforming their arcane magic; their eyes were black colored; their faces looked at the cauldrons, where the magical Whorls of Grimness concealed the fate of those who dared to seek them out; their faces were focused on the sallow mists that swirled like before. In the ashy road, Meredith Naughton, a seer, gazed at them from her village home.
She was thinking about the First Witch Wars from 1589.
That was in the 16th century stories of ancient magic.
Meredith focused on the darkness.
And opened her eyes.
What she saw was the Library of the Arcane.
And the magical doors were open.
For awhile, David knew that the lamp's glow in the dim arches. He looked at the halls; he focused on the windows. As he did so, the goblins were awake now. Their eyes focused on the torn, grey curtains. He saw their daggers were sharp, and full of red rubies in the middle of the weapons. David backed away. Then he fought them. He closed his eyes.
Visions of death swirled in the air.
And the goblins' bodies collapsed onto the soft, marble ground.
The magic was over.
Diane focused on the book she was reading.
She was thinking about the goblins.
They were in the dungeons now, unaware that they were victims of a spell by David Carter. She grabbed the book, and read it. Then she yawned. By five o'clock in London, Thomas was busy in the Library of the Arcane; by six o'clock, (an hour later), she was hungry.
She moved forward, and opened the Grey Doors.
She saw the witches were wearing robes.
She relaxed.
The voices receded.
'I didn't know you were around, Diane. Where's Thomas?', Miles Harris asked her. She felt distant from her cousin; she felt his eyes on her. 'You left the Library, alone'.
'Yes. I had other matters to deal with'.
'What other matters?', Miles asked her.
'The Books of Creatures. Mother had them two decades ago back in 1996', Diane answered him.
'The Books of Creatures are old'.
'I know that'.
'Do you know I have one copy'.
'Do you?', Diane asked him.
'Yes. I brought it from Grandfather. He is a collector', Miles answered.
'I know that'.
'I heard about David Carter. He attacked a group of goblins. He is a wizard, and he is dangerous'.
'Dangerous'.
'Yes. But you know that, didn't you, Diane'.
'No'.
'No. I feel that you're hiding something, Miles'.
'We have secrets, Diane. To unleash it on humans will not be good for London, and other cities across the United Kingdom'.
'And, the point is...'.
Miles smiled.
'The point is, Diane, be careful of him. His Mother was a dark witch; his Father was human'.
'How do you know that?'.
'My Mother, Elspeth Harris, the the Book Recorder of Names. Her name was on the List'.
'The List'.
'Only those of a darker nature is on the List'.
'I see'.
'Do you?', Miles asked her.
'I don't understand', Diane answered him.
'That was what I was afraid of, Diane', Miles sighed.
He walked away, and left her to shiver.
Time, as it was, was still.
The darkness came over the city of London.
A sense of grimness destroyed the modern statues that came after the Great Fire of 1666; the old fires came to the Thames River, which was covered by water. Rowers came downstream, ignoring the magical World; it was, as it was always been, a sense of deteriorating nightmares in the cold night.
Consequently, and without news of goblin activity in the city, was something David Carter knew about; he ignored the activity because everyone knew about the magic he cast over the creatures.
He yawned, and waited for his father to pick him up.
Friday morning
London, England, 2016
David Carter looked at the time on his old Grandfather clock that was in his hall. He pondered on whether he could deal with the goblins; he seemed to think of his Mom; he hadn't seen her for six months, or more. The faces of his distant past fractured into a thousand pieces. He looked at the girl nearby. 'Are you lost?', he asked her. 'Yes, I'm such an idiot', she answered.
'Hey, it's okay. I get lost all of the time. I'm David Carter'.
'Delia Moore'.
'Oh, your Mom is a witch'.
'Half-witch', Delia smiled.
'Have you heard about the Library of the Arcane?', he asked her.
'Yes, but it is for elitists', Delia answered.
'I don't know about that. Please come after school'.
'Fine, I'd like that', Delia said.
Temple Winn, a young girl, stood near the Arched Mirror. Her Mom was thinking about the vacation to England; her Dad blankly refused to speak to her. 'What's wrong with me?', she asked him. 'Nothing, Temple', Brian Winn answered. She didn't believe him; she had forgotten about the incidents in the last couple of years. Her birth was kept secret from the World, as if it wasn't meant to be. The bloodline was shifting in the cold winds of Nevada; the cold winds of London, England, was chilly. 'Temple, it's for the best', her Mom said.
She didn't think about that; she was twelve now.
'Nearby is the Library of the Arcane, Temple'.
'A Library of the Arcane. I heard about that place. It's full of magical creatures like goblins, orcs, and werewolves', Temple said.
'That's untrue, Temple', her Mom said.
'But, I know there's the Beast of London here. I read about it in a magazine called England's Cryptozoology and Weird Creatures. It's a pulpy B fantasy magazine for readers who want to expand their minds'.
'Like Werewolf Lodge', Brian smiled.
'Yes. Werewolf Lodge, located in New York, and in the Montana mountains. There was a girl elf named Roa who was bitten, and was cursed. That was a long time ago; that wasn't in the newspapers before the attacks happened. There it is. The Library of the Arcane', Temple's Mom said.
She stopped driving, and she parked the 2012 Ford car to the carpark near the front entrance.
Temple saw two human guards.
'State your business!'.
'I want passage to the Library. I'm Temple Winn. Two 'N's. My name is on the List'. They scanned her name, and nodded.
'You can pass'.
'Thank you', Temple said.
And she waved at her parents, as they left her alone.
British Prime Minister, Lady Gretchen Manning, looked at the files in the spacious room of Number 10 Downing Street. She focused on Lord Malcolm Gray, the Deputy Prime Minister, as she sighed.
'Magicians, wizards, warlocks, goblins. They're all running this country. And you're telling me what it means to have...them...here. There's this Library of the Arcane. It's witchcraft like my Grandfather's day', he said.
'England is full of magic', the British Prime Minister said.
'I know that', the Deputy Prime Minister said.
'Then, let's get rid of the them', the Prime Minister said.
And the Deputy Prime Minister smiled.
Cara watched the girl.
Deep emotions welled up inside her.
'You're with David?', she asked her.
'Yes. But we're not going out', she answered.
Relief came over her, as if she didn't want to lose him in a romantic way. She didn't want any girl to get in her way; she was used to finding The One. And David was The One. No ifs; no buts. It just was.
'Let's get you to the Sleep Chamber'.
'Oh, and that is good', Cara said.
And they became friends, rather than enemies.
Lyall Gresham walked to the darkness of the room.
He flicked on the light with his left hand.
He walked towards the woman in red robes. Her hood was black colored. 'Why are you here, Lyall?', the Sorceress asked him.
'Mother. I was concerned about the future...'.
'Your future is not my concern since your birth twelve years' ago'.
'And, for that time, I was under the impression you cared about me. After Father died three years' ago from cancer, you're cold towards me'.
'I am not...'.
'But, you are cold, Mother; you are cold. And I am cold too'.
'The point is...'.
'The point is, Mother, I am a Warlock's Apprentice'.
'You...'.
'Yes. And I shall rule London. It is going to be on my eighteenth birthday in six years' time. Good bye, Mother'.
'Good bye, Lyall'.
And he nodded, and left her alone in the gloom.
Temple walked towards the Library's front doors.
The sound of voices dimmed.
Her face was etched in concern, as the wild flowers from the nursery fell outward. She saw a group of teenagers who were eager to deal with their own agendas. She looked at the grey chairs; she saw Diane.
'Diane. Is that you?', Temple asked her.
'Temple. I thought your parents...', she answered.
'They want me here at the Library of the Arcane'.
'That's good. David, Cara, this is Temple. My half-sister', Diane said.
'Half-sister', David gasped.
'Please, take me seat', Diane said.
'Thank you', Temple said.
And she sat down on her seat, and started to sleep, while they talked about the goblins.
The black clouds hovered above the London sky.
It was almost six o'clock PM.
Joggers were near the Thames River, and Hyde Park.
They weren't seeing the magical creatures; they were humans. And, as such, weren't distant in their thinking about orcs, goblins, and other things that were fantastical. The thunder boomed in the evening, then the city of London flooded.
Saturday morning
London, England, 2016
David watched the sun go upward into the cold, bitter, sky. He imagined the idea that Cara would be jealous of Temple. 'David, are you around?', Cara asked him. 'Yes, what's the matter?', he asked her.
'Temple wants to be part of the Library of the Arcane', she answered.
'Then, what's the problem?'.
Cara sighed, and nodded.
She didn't want want to speak, as she sipped her wizard's tea that was in a silvery goblet.
'Delia. You're awake'.
'Yes, Donald'.
'Am I intruding on your sleep?'.
'No'.
'Good'.
'Are you sure you're okay?'.
'Yes'.
'The World has changed; London has changed'.
'And, the point is?'.
'The point is what you're doing is to serve the Warlocks'.
'That's untrue'.
'Is it?'.
'Yes'.
He sighed, and strode forward towards the warm fireplace.
The cold, London weather was full of rain.
Temple looked at the girls.
'I need a new dress. But Mom wouldn't know where to go to. Unless she does so at weekends. Besides, a lot of us aren't rich'.
'I'll pay for them, sister', Diane said.
'Thank you', Temple said.
She heard the knocking of the door.
'ENTER!'.
A small, young girl witch appeared.
She had long, black hair, blue eyes, and wore a grey apron.
'Frieda. Please come inside the room', Cara said.
'Yes, of course, Ma'am', the serving-girl, said.
Frieda watched the group.
She was fourteen.
David watched her.
'Are you new here at the Library of the Arcane, Sir?', she asked him.
'Yes, I'm David Carter', he answered.
'Oh, you're a witch's son'.
'Yes, would you like to talk a seat?'.
'Yes, thank you', Freida said.
And she rested her tired legs.
The girl, Delia Franklin, stood near the Thames River. The warm, afternoon sun beat down on her face; the eyes focused on the witches, wizards, and warlocks; the look on her Mother's face meant she was worried about what she would say to her. At nine, she was at Annabelle's School for Girls, which was a Christian School in London.
'Mother, isn't the fairies nice to see'.
'Fairies! In London! You've read too many books, girl'.
'But, Mother! I can see them!'.
'Rubbish! Shall I call Doctor Farrow?', Mother asked her.
'No!', Delia answered.
'Delia, it's alright! If you did see the fairies, then you did', Father said.
She smiled, and nodded.
'I did see them. In the woods. I saw them'.
'I'm sure your mother was wrong'.
'Am I, Randal! Am I wrong?', she asked him.
'Yes, dear. You don't vent at your daughter; you love her', Randal answered. He smiled at his daughter, and opened the front door, then she played in the majestic garden for the rest of the day.
Saturday afternoon; 3 PM
London, England, 2016
'It is inconceivable that you're dropping the subject of alchemy, Professor James', Lord Roderick Dane said. He watched the candles illuminate the spacious room; the candles blew in the depths of the chambers. Professor James watched him. The Grandfather clock chimed three times.
'The Prime Minister wants to end the magic folk, immediately'.
'That is a problem'.
'And, you're here to deal with the creatures'.
'Yes'.
'Then, we have until Midnight'.
'Midnight, that's in seven hours' time'.
'Exactly', Lord Roderick Dane said, and he sipped his red wine in his favorite goblet, as the rain battered the city of London.
Tod Sanderson watched the train.
He was thinking about the time.
For awhile, nothing happened, then he saw her.
He heard the single whistle blow.
It was Midday.
The orcs were around the warm camp.
They snorted, as the blue rugs glowed in the darkness.
It was late afternoon.
The rain meant that it was evening soon.
'They're near the Library of the Arcane, Foss'.
'Are you sure? They're lying', Foss asked the Orc Leader, Riff.
'The humans are there'.
'And the point is...'.
'The point is what you're going into a storm'.
'Well, brother, the storm is coming', Foss said.
It didn't smile.
David awoke.
He was asleep for an hour.
The lamps illuminated his face.
'Are you up?', Cara asked him.
'Yes, I was resting', David answered.
'Yes, so, what do you want?'.
'Don't be angry with me'.
'I'm not, sorry. Can I pay for dinner?'.
'Yes, that will be great'.
'Good, now that the air's clear, we can have some Irish stew, and wizard's stew'. She smiled, and hugged him.
Temple looked at the fireplace.
'Isn't it weird that orcs are scary'.
'Yes, they're rather awful', Diane said.
'Awful'.
'Yes, awful'.
'Can they attack us?'.
'Yes, they already have. The Library of the Arcane is protected by ancient magic'. Temple nodded.
'I know. Mom says I am a Seer'.
'A Seer'.
'Yes'.
'What do you see?', Diane asked her.
'London is to be protected by the England Alchemical Society', Temple answered. She showed her sister her Membership card.
'That's brilliant! I think I am a Member'.
The card read:
The London Alchemical Society formed in 1895, by S. H. Lowe, is a dedicated Society into magic in all of its forms. For centuries, those who have practiced the Fine Arts, have known those who seek people of the same kind; those who do not seek us out, are known as the Fear Makers, because they have closed minds.
Sadly, that is all too common these days.
Membership is 3 pounds.
Please pay to Lucinda J. Kendall, Payer of Monies.
---Yours sincerely,
S. H. Lowe, President of the Alchemical Society, (London, England)
'There it is!', Temple said.
There was a black and white picture of witches, wizards, and alchemists. Some wore fancy colored hats on their heads; some wore regal looking robes; some wore boots that was for children, or teenagers.
She smiled at the picture, before she was asleep herself.
She sat on the chair, and dreamed.
The Warlock shifted in the black chair.
He was concerned about the news blackout in the human World. It was 2:00 AM in London; it was late at night. He saw the thick shadows. They consumed the city; they were seeing his ravaged face.
'It is time'.
The Warlock turned away.
'I want them gone, Annalise'.
'It's barricaded'.
'Barricaded. I see'.
'Do you?', the Warlock asked his wife.
'Yes', she answered.
'Let's sleep on it', the Warlock said.
And she nodded, as it started to rain heavily again.
Monday morning
London, England, 2016
A cold morning greeted Amber Harrison. She forced herself to see the kitchen. She smelled the aromatic food in the cauldron; she was thinking about the witches in her family; she hadn't dreamed of the time before the Warlock came to her house; she hadn't dreamed he would dream of sweeping her off her feet with tales of love. But it wasn't love; it was dreaming of the Alchemy place in London. The darkness was gone, replacing it with dreams of grimness that was her Mother's fault a long time ago, before she was born.
'Mother! Father!'.
'Yes, Amber'.
'Why isn't he here?'.
'He is asleep'.
'Asleep'.
'Yes, don't let me get your wand'.
'I...sorry, Mother'.
And she sighed, and ate her breakfast.
David Carter looked at the Iron Door.
He opened it.
As he did so, he watched the woman who was preying. Some spiders fell from the Altar, as the creatures scurried past his boots. He backed away, as the bell chimed; he was away from her, as if he didn't want to disturb her. 'It's alright, David Carter. I am Anne Byers'.
'Oh, I'm sure that time is not short around here'.
'It is silent', Anne said.
'Yes, and I don't want to interrupt your prayers'.
'Thank you, David Carter. We'll see you soon'.
Other religious figures appeared, and David smiled at them, then he left them alone for the rest of the day.
The BBC news anchor, Frank Price, said: 'In breaking news, George James, of Cornwall, stated that he saw wizards in funny hats holding up their wands; he also stated that he saw Orcs in the forest. Because of the controversy over the magical creatures, the Head of the Met Office, Jean K. Pane, insisted that there wasn't anything to worry about...In other news...'.
The light was bright.
Sander Dort grabbed the lamp in her right hand.
She watched the trolls near the birch tree.
They were asleep.
She made sure she didn't make a sound, as the front entrance to the Library of the Arcane was open.
And she went inside.
Temple watched the windows.
It was cold.
She grabbed some firewood, and placed them in the hot grille. She smiled at the others, and cooked breakfast. The aroma of the food was smelling good, as the gloom from the last evening, lifted across London.
'How can we do anything, Tom? The Warlocks are in power', Serene Gorman, a witch, asked him.
'It's part of the problems these days. The magical barrier is down', he answered.
He smoked a pipe.
'Three centuries ago there magic was forbidden against humans. They were afraid of curses, and hexes. Some of them went to Catholic Churches to pray to get rid of them; some were eager to think that they were cursed'.
'And, now, what can we do about rescuing the magic children?'.
'They're safe from harm when they're in the Library of the Arcane. The news is that London, like New York, and Paris, France, as well as Moscow, Russia, and other cities, and countries, have International Rules on Magic. This is what is wrong with the World these days. It is a World in which Warlocks are more concerned about power, than using their wands, and casting spells from old books. Time is short, Serene. That is why we must act now, before it's too late', Tom said.
Then the mahogany doors opened, and a girl smiled at Serene.
'Mother! I am hungry', Margaret said.
'I'm sorry. Tom, my daughter is having lunch now. May we speak again?', she asked him.
'Yes, of course. How are you doing, Margaret?'.
'I'm reading a book. Mother is preparing me for the Library of the Arcane'.
'Not many people go there, unless they have magical abilities'.
'All of them have abilities'.
'That's good, because I am sure Mother and Father will like their daughter who have magical books at home', Margaret said. Her long, red hair was like a bright fire; her hazel eyes glowed in the bright sunlight; her grey gown was new. Her black boots illuminated the stone steps; the steps glowed near the Thames River. The Dragon Mirrors were shining near the basement.
'Come with me, Margaret', Serene said.
'Yes, Mother. Good bye, Tom'.
'Good bye, Tom'.
And she walked away with her Mother, as the cold weather hovered above number 10 Downing Street.
David watched the group in the Library of the Arcane. He sipped his wizard's tea. The aroma filled him to happiness; the darkness consumed him. He lit a candle. The glow was illuminating the spacious room. He saw Cara was talking with Diane. Temple was reading a book, her eyes focused on the brown chairs, and tables. Some of the children were wearing robes that was free of dust. Their faces lit up at the teachers; the teachers were attending to the classes, as the shadows were gone from the basement, where are kinds of books, curtains, and other items of ancient items, were collected by the Museum of Ancient Works.
He saw Cara was smiling at him.
'It's good for you to come back', Cara said.
'Yes, it is. Besides, I don't need problems to haunt me', David said.
'It's alright, David. You're with friends here', Cara told him.
And he smiled, as he carried a candle in his right hand, and placed it on the cold wall to the left of the mahogany table.
The swirling dust hovered above the London sky.
Several wizards, witches, and warlocks, were invisible to the human World; several of them were grabbing their wands. Their faces were covered up, and became secretive in their dealings in the magical World. Others went inside the castles, and didn't go outside for a long time.
Monday afternoon
London, England, 2016
3:00 PM
Mike R. Josephson smoked a cigarette. He walked towards the Thames River. The sun was bright in the cold sky; mothers were with their babies in prams. Their eyes focused on the water; their faces were watching the rowers as they practiced for the Olympic Games.
The human World was different from the magical World.
It was separated because of the Barrier.
And, in a split second, he saw a girl using magic.
'Hey, what are you doing?', Mike asked her.
'You saw me', the girl answered.
She disappeared from view, and Mike wondered what was going on.
He touched the water fountain, where the girl was.
He disappeared into the ether, and everything from view.
'Well, it is the Prime Minister's fault, really. The Alchemist Society is dragged into the mess', the Deputy Prime Minister said.
'Don't tell me about that, dear', his wife said.
'Because you hate the idea, the Government hates the magical people'.
'Listen. There's all kinds of weird things happening in London. England is not Paris, France, Berlin, Germany, Melbourne, Australia, and New York, in America. Globally, every witch, wizard, and magical people, are taking things further. This is why, as I've told you, that the Barrier is up to protect us from them'.
'Them'.
'The Orcs, and other creatures'.
'Oh, them'.
'Yes'.
And the matter was settled there and then.
The fire burned brightly.
Over a long period of time, the darkness was near the rocks. Jim Graham walked to the shores. The ocean was full of surf that was rocky due to the vicious storm. The water crashed, letting the boats, and ships, to bash inward, but not outward. Shadows wallowed in the dimness.
For awhile, the fire burned again, and the people watched with keen interest. The darkness left by dawn, and the grimness was diluted by time itself.
Mark Greyson headed down the road. He saw the Alchemist's Circle. He saw with his father, and mother. He didn't need to be told about his birthright; he was, as was told to him since he was six, that his future was unclear. He glanced at the water fountain; the water fountain was ancient. The grimness of the city was replaced by carriages that was parked on the side of the cobbled road.
'Get in, son!'.
'Yes, Father!'.
'What about your studies?'.
'They're finished, Mother'.
'Good'.
'You seem to know about David Carter'.
'He went through the Barrier, towards the Library of the Arcane'.
'What are you going to do about him?'.
'Time is on my side, Mother'.
'I see, but I know what you're doing now. It's time to deal with him'.
'Yes, Mother'. And he sat down on the black seat, then he relaxed as the door closed behind him.
David yawned.
He was asleep now on the grey chair.
The sound of footsteps disturbed him.
He saw a girl smiling.
'You're David Carter'.
'Yes, I am. And you are...?', he asked her.
'Natalie Forman', she answered.
He thought for a moment.
'You're Carolyn Forman's daughter'.
'Yes, you remembered'.
'She was my neighbor'.
'Yes, we were in New York for three years because Mom was working for a witch'. David smiled.
'A witch'.
'Yes. Delores Kendall, the Grand Witch of New York'.
She showed him a black and white photo of her.
DELORES ANNE KENDALL, GRAND WITCH, AUGUST 4, 1973
She had long, black hair, hazel eyes, and petite.
She wore a grey gown, and was wearing grey boots on her small feet. On the bed was blue flares for day wear.
'I'm your second cousin', Natalie said.
David smiled.
'Would you like some scones with jam, and wizard's tea?', he asked her.
'Yes, that would be delightful', Natalie answered.
And Natalie smiled, as she sat down on one of the other grey chairs near the warm fireplace in the middle of the spacious room of the Library of the Arcane.
Cara arrived at the fireplace.
'Who are you?', she asked Natalie.
'Natalie Forman. David Carter's Second Cousin', she answered.
'Oh, I didn't know...'.
'No, you didn't know...Or could know, because you're not family'.
'David...'.
'Natalie, it's fine. Scones and jam, Cara?'.
'Yes, thank you'.
Cara saw the photo.
'Who is she?'.
'My Grandmother', Natalie said.
'Oh, right...'.
'Look, we don't need any fights', David told her.
And, as a servant-elf girl appeared with the scones, and wizard's tea, everyone was satisfied that there wasn't any other problems in the Library of the Arcane, as they ate and drank merrily.
Amie Gordon arrived.
She saw David was with Cara.
The new witch was a stranger to her.
'I hope that you're not...'.
'Amie. It's been a year since we've met'.
'Natalie!', she said angrily.
'What's going on here?', David asked.
'Natalie's family are enemies of my family', Amie answered.
'Oh, I see'.
'Get out of the Library'.
Natalie stared at her.
'How dare you scream at me! There's several magical families who want power in London, and you're nothing to me'.
She grabbed a silver, gilded, dagger in her small, right hand.
'Fight!', Natalie yelled.
And, as she waited, Cara grabbed her own silver dagger.
She stabbed out at her chest.
'ENOUGH!!!', David shouted.
He waited for the witches to take down the weapons, then he knew that they needed to be separated before there was death in the Library of the Arcane.
Mike R. Josephson dropped downward.
He felt pain in his left ankle.
He hobbled along the cobbled path.
He didn't know what was going on.
Magic Worlds wasn't on his radar.
It wasn't normal; it was mysterious.
The sign read: Library of the Arcane
He saw some trolls were asleep.
'Are you lost, stranger?', a elf girl asked him.
'Yes', he answered.
'Only magic folk travel the roads, and forest'.
'The forest'.
'Yes, it's protected by the Barrier'.
'I am not magical'.
'You are part of our World now because you saw one of us'.
'Yes, at the Thames River. A girl...'.
'That is strange. But, no matter. You must come to the Library of the Arcane'.
'What's that?'.
'It's part of the New Magical World'.
And the elf girl disappeared.
'Don't!', Cara yelled.
'This is silly. Please don't attack her', David told Natalie.
'She is my enemy'.
'Maybe you should be friends with her'.
'She said bad things about Mother'.
'So, you said bad things about my Father'.
'If you two don't make up, I'll do it for you'.
He waited, and they sighed.
And they dropped the daggers, and everything went back to normal.
'Outrageous!', Peter said.
'You're not going to let me go to Hyde Park'.
'No'.
'Why not?'.
'Because you're not one of us; you're one of them. Human'.
'And'.
'And, the Barrier is secure'.
'It is not secure; it is broken'.
'Jack...'.
'Yes'.
'You're sure it is broken?'.
'Yes'.
'Then we have a problem', Peter said.
The girl looked at the water fountain.
She drank from it.
As she did so, her brother smiled.
And took a picture of it.
'Elves. I saw elves'.
'Liar!'.
'I saw them'.
'No, you didn't see them'.
'I saw them'.
'Liar!'.
'I'm not a liar. Elves are here'.
'They're not here'.
'See them!'.
The boy looked at the water fountain.
The elves had disappeared.
Mike arrived at the Library of the Arcane.
He didn't know that the Barrier was closed.
The sound of voices was heard inside.
He saw a group of teenagers, and girls, fighting.
'We have company?', David asked them.
He saw Mike, and the boy didn't know what was going on.
Monday evening
London, England, 2016
6:00 PM
It was raining.
Catriona Nathanson was cooking dinner.
She didn't see the mysterious lights outside the windows of the Loungeroom; she saw her husband was snoring on the brown sofa. The BBC was on. The news was droning on, and on. 'Bert, dinner's ready'. She saw him was awake. 'What! Good'. He kissed his wife, and they ate while the story about the Barrier caused them to gasp in surprise.
'What's going on?', Mike asked them.
'Not your concern', David answered.
'What! Two girls are fighting'.
'It's resolved', Cara said.
'Yes, it is, stranger', Natalie said.
'I see'.
'You went through the Barrier'.
'No. I saw a girl by the water fountain. She was different. She was magical. And something happened. I'm Mike'.
'David. This is Natalie, my second cousin. And Cara'.
'What is going on?'.
'Family wars', Cara said.
'Oh'.
'Yes, we all have family problems'.
'We're having dinner now'.
'I'm hungry'.
He saw someone else nearby.
It was Amie.
Hyde Park
London, England, 2016
7:00 PM
Maisie Campbell jogged along the pathway.
It was two hours before the silver gate was locked up for the evening. She hadn't thought about the dangers ahead; she was thinking about the trouble in the past; she had listened to her Mother's voice in her head, as she slept in her bed. 'The trolls will come to you if you tonight, Maisie. And, when they come, you better be careful...'. Maisie watched her Mother, and nodded.
She then knew she wasn't six anymore.
She was fourteen.
The moon's glow was in the night sky.
In her right hand was Mace.
She looked at the cars nearby.
Then she heard the sound of footsteps.
She sprayed Mace into the face of a jogger.
'Hey! What gives...Are you insane, girl?'.
'I'm sorry'.
'I got to...', the boy said.
He ran to the water fountain, and washed his red eyes.
'So, what about this Library?', Mike asked David.
'It's called the Library of the Arcane. A magical place for wizards, witches, and warlocks. Some boys, and girls, and teenagers aren't magical because of their bloodlines; some are magical because their parents are magical. I can go on and on and on. But I won't', David answered.
'I saw an elf-girl by the water fountain'.
'Really. That's strange', Cara said.
'Yes, it is', Natalie said.
And Mike ate a scone with strawberry jam on it, as everyone introduced themselves to him.
The woman stood near the entrance to the Barrier.
She glanced at her right; she stopped walking.
She thought she saw the elves watching her.
It was 9:00 PM now in London.
She focused on the grey clouds in the sky.
She grabbed her favorite fur coat; she put it on.
For awhile, she knew that the talk of magical creatures was in the archives inside the Library of the Arcane; she saw the tall man smoking a cigarette. The fiery embers of the burning flames erupted like a volcano. 'Elena, it is time to go', Piotr said. She seemed bemused by the Russian man.
'I won't be silenced', she said.
'There will be time to deal with the Warlock of the Library of the Arcane', Piotr said. He wore a red coat, to keep him warm.
They headed towards the Barrier.
Both of them touched it, then they were swept into the deep abyss.
London, England,
10:00 PM
It was a cold, dreary, evening.
And, as the people of the city of London, went to sleep, the gloom came over the Thames River, and the grimness returned.
Wednesday morning
London, England, 2016
7:00 AM
The Prime Minister was jogging at Hyde Park.
He was huffing and puffing like the Big Bad Wolf; he was smiling at the thought. His son, and daughter, would smile at that. Exercise was important when you were running the country at Number 10 Downing Street. The bright lamp illuminated the park; the other families were with their children, especially their toddlers in prams; their eyes were drawn to the Prime Minister.
'Good morning, Sir', Daniel Cass, the Hyde Park Manager, said.
'Good morning. Nice morning. I had breakfast at six o'clock'.
'That's good. What about the Library of the Arcane?', Daniel asked him.
'That is a matter for us, Daniel', the Prime Minister answered.
And he continued on his way.
Daniel waited.
The days were long.
He saw Cara was smiling at him.
'Last night was horrible'.
'Yeah, I know. Besides, Natalie and I are friends'.
'Breakfast time', Mike said.
And they ate in silence.
Maisie was looking at the lamp.
She had looked at the people near the carpark. She was in the human World; she wasn't in the magical World. For several seconds, she imagined she saw the elves, fairies, and dwarves. They lived inside the Barrier. She saw a faun nearby. It was playing a pan flute.
'Who are you?', Maisie asked it.
'You...can...see...me', the faun answered.
'Yes, I saw the Barrier'.
'Did you touch it?'.
'I fell into the water fountain'.
'Yes, and you now can see me'.
'Yes'.
'The water is magical'.
'Oh, I see'.
'Humans can't see me'.
'But, I saw you'.
'I'm Sandor'.
'I'm Maisie'.
'That's a strange name for a girl'.
'Yes, it's Irish'.
'I'm Irish'.
'Good, now where are you going to?'.
'The woods near the Library of the Arcane'.
'What is that?'.
'It's a place for reading books, casting spells, and so on. Of course, our kind are living in the woods with our families'.
'Oh, I have my family. I like to explore the woods'.
'Good. Would you like to play the flute?'.
'Oh, I'd like that'.
And Maisie grabbed it, and started to play.
Temple watched the sun.
She gazed at the woods.
She hadn't imagined that the grimness of the last day had taken its toll on her. In short, she focused on the Barrier. She had been near the Library of the Arcane; she saw others talking. She, and her friends, had seen the sleeping trolls. She touched the front door with her small, right hand, and went inside.
David was about to say something when Temple arrived. He glanced at the girl witch; he was sure she was a stranger. 'Who are you?', he asked her. 'Temple. I was thinking about the Library of the Arcane, and it draw me to here', she answered. Cara, Natalie, and Mike, nodded.
'It looks like everyone wants to be here', Mike said.
'Yes'.
Temple smiled, and rested her tired feet on the grey chairs near the fireplace.
Maisie walked to the cool water.
She drank eagerly.
The faun watched her.
'It is magical. It has healing properties'.
'That's good'.
'I know that. Besides, the idea that humans are here mean they're involved in arcane magic', the faun said.
'Arcane magic'.
'Yes, over the last two centuries, humans are concerned about using magic for their own gain. Some are near the Barrier', Sandor explained.
It had horns on its head, and was dressed in grey rags.
Its hooves on its feet dented in the mud.
Its blue eyes focused on the girl.
'Go now, human. And peace be with you. Good bye!'.
'Good bye!'.
David Carter sipped some wizard's tea.
He was concerned there were a lot of strangers at the Library. He watched the old, Grandfather clock that chimed seven times. In his mind, there was a lot of changes; there was a lot of problems dealing with all witches, wizards, and warlocks. He saw Cara, who smiled at him.
'The books are read now', she said.
'Good. What about the teachers?', David asked her.
'They're fine. Class is at 9:00 AM', Cara answered.
'I don't want to be late', Temple said.
'You're new here, Temple', David said.
'Yes, I know that', she sighed.
'Now, let's walk around the Library', Natalie said.
And that was what they did.
The Prime Minister was speaking to the Queen.
'Times are tough, Your Majesty. You're determined to deal with the creatures yourself?', he asked her.
'Yes. England is full of magic. I have faith in you, Prime Minister', the Queen said. He nodded, and left Buckingham Palace, and went to his car, where his driver, Charles Moore, headed towards Number 10 Downing Street, after the half and hour meeting ended.
The Warlock of London was staring at the Dragon Mirror.
In his right hand was a sphere.
It glowed as he looked at the shadows.
Over the last couple of days, he had read reports about the majestic Library of the Arcane; he was eager to deal with the idea that nothing was right about the humans. The magical World was falling apart. He stared at the Barrier. A woman glided towards him. She wore a red hood, and a black gown. Her eyes were hazel. 'They're in the Library'.
'I know that, Serene'.
'Do you know that for sure?', she asked him.
'Yes', the Warlock answered.
'Time is short', Serene said.
'No, it is not short, dear. Besides, there's been a struggle between the human World, and the magic World', the Warlock stated.
'Can we win?'.
'Yes, but time is of the essence'.
'What can we do now?'.
'Now, we wait. If the Barrier is breached, we have to go there'. The Warlock sighed, and kissed her.
Serene kissed him back, and smiled.
Wednesday afternoon
4PM
The little girl watched the elf.
Her face was youthful.
'Can you do some magic?', she asked it.
'Yes. But you are not magical, Ellison', it answered.
'I am!', Ellison said, excitedly.
The elf's pointed ears were full of the sound of voices.
'You need to go to the woods, Ellison'.
'What's in the woods?'.
'The Library of the Arcane'.
'Can I go?'.
'They only accept those who are near the water fountain'. Ellison nodded, and headed to there, but not before smiling at the friendly elf.
David watched the rain.
It was falling down heavily in the city of London.
The people of England were inside the Barrier.
Few of the humans broke it; few had magical powers.
Cara got changed in one of the chamber rooms. As she did so, she grabbed a red colored robe, and put it on her. She knew that the classes were nearly over. Mike was reading a book that was on the dusty shelf. He cleaned it with a blue rag. Dust came off it; he coughed. Then he washed it with clean water, and placed it in an old, grey, bucket.
Natalie yawned, and went to sleep near the warm fireplace.
Temple headed to the Ladies' chamber, and closed it.
Afterwards, she washed her hands, then she dried them, before she opened the door.
And they all waited for others to come to the ancient Library of the Arcane.
Diane walked to the chamber.
She smiled at Temple.
'We have a visitor'.
'Who is he?', Diane asked her.
'Mike. He's nice', Temple answered.
'Can we see him?'.
'Yes', Temple said.
Mike saw the girls.
'Hello, I'm Mike'.
'This is Diane, my half-sister. I'm Temple'.
'Strange name'.
'It's a religious name'.
'I see. I have nothing against religion'.
'Good. Now, do you two girls like some wizard's tea, and strawberry jam on scones?', he asked.
'Yes, we'd like that', Temple and Diane answered.
And they followed him to the small kitchen, where afternoon tea was served.
Lord Roderick Dane was on his red chair. He looked at the Dragon's Mirror. Professor James sipped her Wizard's tea. The aroma was lovely to smell in the bright chamber; the aroma was nice to savor as the Iron Door was open. Near the bed was a closet where clothes were kept.
'The Barrier is down, my Lord', Professor James said.
'How can it be down. Is it because of dark magic?', he asked her.
'Yes, my Lord', Professor James answered. Her face was in the shining mirror. Her hair was going grey these days.
The two children awoke from their chambers.
'Mother! Father!', Delia said.
'I saw them...the elves', Patrick said.
'Elves! What kind of elves', Lord Roderick said.
'Green elves, Father', the children said together.
He looked out of the cold, icy, window.
Four elves were walking up the cobbled road.
'They're harmless', Lord Roderick stated.
He turned around, as Professor James cooked dinner.
The BBC News Anchor, Frank Price, stated on radio: 'According to the Prime Minister, the magical Barrier has been broken, as the battle between our World, and their World, and we are in a battle...In other news, the Warlocks are coming to London for a conference tomorrow night at 5:00 PM to 7:00 PM. Lastly, we're going to play a hour of commercial-free soft rock, jazz, and country music, for everyone who'll listen...'.
Number 10 Downing Street
London, England, 2016
Lady Gretchen Manning, the British Prime Minister, stood near the window. She was busy making sure England was working properly. She smoked a cigarette. The fiery embers burned in the silvery colored ashtray that was on the mahogany table in the middle of the spacious room; the darkness of the late afternoon sky was bleak. Her computer was on the left; the framed picture of her husband, Greg Manning, and their four children, was causing her to smile.
'It's problematic, Prime Minister', Lord Silas Grieve, the political advisor, said. He watched the rain pour down heavily. He gazed at the scones that was baked in the morning.
'Witches, wizards, and warlocks, are in the city'.
'Yes, my Prime Minister. It's part of their wars'.
'Wars'.
'Yes, and arcane magic'.
'I don't care about magic'.
'But, my children believe in magic'.
'Do they?', the Prime Minister, asked.
'Yes', Lord Grieve answered.
'What now? What do we do?'.
'We stop them, Prime Minister. There's an election in 2018'.
'That's two years' away'.
'I know that'.
'Yes, of course. So, what about the Library of the Arcane?'.
'It's being watched on our side'.
'Our side?'.
'Yes'.
'Then, what will we do to stop them?'.
'By our own magic, Prime Minister'.
And Lord Grieve told her about his plan to stop them.
David was sleepy.
He went to bed early.
As he dreamed after dinner, he saw elves in the garden.
Wednesday evening
London, England
8:00 PM
The city of London went to sleep.
As they did so, the shadows hovered above the Thames River. And, as night fell, so did the magical creatures that watched the humans intently.
Thursday morning
London, England, 2016
5:00 AM
Kate Olsen walked towards the Thames River.
The bright lamps illuminated her young face. It was five degrees in the city. She wore jogging clothes, and new shoes to run in the dim, early morning, sun. She looked at the sun; she saw the moon was fading. Her long, black hair, green eyes, and thin frame, made her feel better each year.
Nearby was the locked gate.
She watched the dark, cobbled, road.
Several cars was parked nearby.
Before she could do anything, she saw a faun.
'Who are you?', Kate asked it.
'Sandor. Others have sought me out'.
'Oh. I didn't know'.
'You couldn't've known. Anyway, do you want to see magic?'.
'Yes. I love magic'.
And he cast a spell.
And Kate was transported to the Library of the Arcane.
David, Temple, Mike, Cara, and Natalie, were talking when there was a burst of light; the light shone on several strangers: Ellison, and Kate. They didn't know each other; they were making sure both of them didn't crash into each other. The dark chamber was illuminated by the dim arched halls.
'It seems we have visitors', David said.
He watched them, and smiled.
'Welcome to the Library of the Arcane. I'm David Carter'.
'Hi, I'm Ellison'.
'Hi, I'm Kate'.
'How did you get here?', Temple asked them.
'I saw an elf', Ellison answered.
'Oh, that's great', Diane said.
And everyone laughed, as the girls walked around the Library.
The sun was bright.
Miss Sandra Pierson stood near the classroom.
'I hope everyone is ready for the lesson'.
'Yes, Miss Pierson', Tad said.
'Good. Now, let's talk about reading books, shall we'. And he, and the other twenty-two students, remained silent for the rest of the hour.
BBC News broadcast
London, England, 2016
6:00 AM
The London road was busy with traffic.
Karen Hull, a news reporter, stood near the Barrier. She, and Matt Solomon, her cameraman, was watching the strange things that happened there. Her long, brown hair glowed in the morning sun; her hazel eyes flowed from the front entrance that led to the Other World, mainly the Library of the Arcane.
'Okay, let's see what we do see', Karen said.
'Fine by me', Matt said.
He made sure the camera was fixed, and the red colored light was on. Then they started shooting for the morning's broadcast system.
'This is Karen Hull for the BBC. Over the last week, there have been reports of mysterious happenings in, and around, London, Hyde Park, and the Thames River. Magical creatures that exist in fairy tales are here in this wonderful country of England...As you know, the Prime Minister has been silent on the matter. She is under intense pressure to resign...'.
London, England
Friday morning
11:00 AM
The woman was on her cell phone.
She was agitated on the M1.
Sorry, I don't love you, Sara.
Don
Sara cried.
Then she broke down into tears.
As she did so, she didn't see the elves watching her.
L. March Howell, Jr., a witch from London, gazed at the fires. She was thinking about the darkness of her house; she was eager to find the Library of the Arcane. Her long, red hair glowed in the morning sun; her blue eyes filled the sky with warmth. Then she saw Tracey Hart, a witch, (and her best friend), was concerned about the talk of magical folk.
She watched the cars that had zoomed away at a fast speed.
She backed away, then she waited for the lights to come back on.
It was dark now.
The evening was young.
David ate dinner.
He had been thinking about his parents.
Then he smiled at his friends, and the city lights dimmed, as he went to sleep.
Tom was with Serene.
'It's been a long time'.
'I know that'.
'What about the Library of the Arcane?', Tom asked her.
'It's been monitored', Tom answered.
And she smiled.
Saturday morning
London, England, 2016
8:00 AM
David was awake.
He was sure that yesterday had been a strange feeling in his mind. He watched Cara, who was asleep; the others were getting used to being in the Library of the Arcane; the thoughts of his parents had been in the back of his mind. Time didn't move on in the Library; time was slow.
'Are you alright?', Amie asked him.
'Yes, I am', David answered her.
'Good. It's the weekend. I like to read books'.
'That's good. Everyone wants to be here'.
'That's fine by me. Now, I shall need to have a bath, and get dressed. And then we all can have breakfast', David said.
And she nodded, and started to cook food in the small kitchen.
Hyde Park
London, England, 2016
9:30 AM
The little girl was walking towards the brown bench. She saw several families on the green grass; she knew she wanted to see the fairies. 'Mother! Can I see them? Can I?', she asked her.
'Gina. There's no such thing as fairies', Martine answered.
'But, I saw them! Look!'.
Martine watched.
But she didn't see them.
'I don't see the fairies'.
'I do!', Gina said, excitedly.
And she talked to the creatures, while her Mother sighed.
The Library of the Arcane was full.
David watched the BBC News.
He wondered if the news broadcasters would tell him about the goblins, orcs, or trolls; he was thinking about the past couple of days, afternoons, and evenings. 'Are you concerned about what's going on?', Amie asked him.
'Yes, I don't want to be too pushy', David answered.
'This is why the Barrier has been breached', Diane piped in.
'Why has it been breached?', Natalie said.
'We don't know. Maybe the Barrier has been breached because too many humans in London have seen magical creatures', David said.
'That is a problem', Mike said.
'Yes, it is', David said.
'We have to do something', Temple said.
'What can we do?', Diane asked her sister.
'Make sure there is a new barrier', Temple answered.
And she told her friends about the new plan.
Mike walked to the 'M' section of the Library of the Arcane. He looked up one of his favorite authors; he picked one of the fantasy books, and read the book that was near the chamber room. He dropped it gently on the Dragon's Table. The rug was colorful: it was full of reds, greens, and orange colors. He watched the stone guards holding silvery daggers.
He imagined he was in a battle, and he smiled to himself, as he was imagining that he was a hero.
The thought caused him to laugh, as he yawned.
The darkness of the previous night diluted the sense of the unease in London. The morning was quiet; it wasn't silent. For awhile, Daniel Harrison looked at the sun; the sun's rays glowed in his blue eyes. He squinted, and looked away. The sunglasses were on, and the bright colors of the sky made things tolerable. He walked to the ice cream van, and paid for a walnut berry one that was his favorite. He watched the families who were near the Thames River. He was glad everything was normal. It was something that caused him to smile. Normal behavior by others. He walked to the water fountain; he touched the water with his left hand.
Suddenly, as if by magic, he was transported to another World.
When he saw the cobbled road, written in large, bold letters, were the words: THE LIBRARY OF THE ARCANE
He saw two sleeping goblins.
He bypassed them, and opened the front door.
Mike saw the stranger first.
'Who are you?', he asked.
'Daniel Harrison. I was at the Thames River. I was near the water fountain, and touched it. I became thirsty. What is this place?'.
'It's a Library of magic'.
'Oh, I see'.
'What's wrong?'.
'A lot of people have come here. You must have magical ability to come here. I'm Mike. This is Diane, Temple, David, and Natalie'.
'Hi'.
'Well, the group is growing', Mike said.
'Can you tell me whether the water fountain is magical?', Diane asked him.
'Let me see. There should be books on the subject of water fountains', Mike answered.
He went to the 'W' section of the musty fountain, and looked up the book.
'There!', Mike exclaimed.
And he showed everyone a picture of the water fountain from 1875, from the late 19th century.
Craig Moore walked near the park with his Mother. He gazed at the ducks in the water. He laughed with joy, as they waded in the little pond. Several pixies were watching him. 'Mother! There's some creatures in the...'. His Mother, who was preparing sandwiches, and cakes, sighed. 'Don't lie, Harold'. Harold shook his head. 'But, I saw them!', Harold yelled.
'Don't be silly, Harold. Now, eat your sandwiches, and cake'.
'Okay, Mother', Harold sighed.
And he never said anything about the pixies again.
Piotr and Elena drank coffee.
They were eager to deal with the Warlock of the Library of the Arcane. He smoked a cigarette; she also smoked. The fiery embers burned their left, middle, fingers. 'What now?', Piotr asked her.
'We go to the water fountain near the Thames River', Elena answered. She focused on the water; she drank from the water fountain. Once she smiled, she noticed the families were having lunch.
It was 11:58 AM.
Two minutes to Midday.
The time was short.
Mike watched the books that had been on the silver trolley. He grabbed one of them, and read it for the next two hours, in silence.
London, England, 2016
Maisie looked at the room.
She focused on the Hall of Knights.
The Battle of Arms was over the two centuries.
She grabbed a lighted candle in her right hand.
The light illuminated the room.
She dropped it on the ground.
Then she opened it, and went inside.
There was a swirl of grey mist.
Piotr and Elena arrived at the Library of the Arcane.
They bypassed the sleeping goblins, and trolls. Some of their sharp weapons were on the ground, near their boots. They opened the door. And heard the sound of voices that carried for a long time.
David heard them.
'Excuse me, but we can't have anymore people here'.
'That is true. But we're here because of the Warlock'.
'The Warlock'.
'Yes, I'm afraid he was working in the old Soviet Union'.
'The Soviet Union'.
'The U.S.S.R'.
'I know that'.
'Good. Now, I'm Elena. This is my husband, Piotr'.
'David Carter. This is Mike, Temple, and Natalie. And Diane. And Daniel'. Once the introductions ended, another girl appeared.
Maisie.
It was a cold, bitter, afternoon in London.
Evelyn Price, a twenty-three year old housewife, gazed at her beer drinking husband, Ralph Price, thirty. He was watching the Liverpool vs. Manchester United football game on television. When Liverpool stuck with a goal into the net, Ralph threw the beer on the wolf rug. 'They're going to lose'. He sighed. For awhile, Evelyn did the house work, while their baby son, Charlie, screamed in his cot upstairs in the baby room.
He was watching the window that was glowing with fairy dust.
David was consumed by the idea that a lot of people were magical because of the old water fountain. He looked at the Grandfather clock. Diane smiled at him. 'You're upset', she said.
'No. I am surprised'.
'About the number of wizards, and witches, at the Library of the Arcane'.
'Yes'.
'This is what happens when things are out of our control. It's the human element. There's a girl...'.
'What's this place?', Maisie asked.
'The Library of the Arcane. I'm Diane', she answered.
'I don't know how I came here'.
'Usually you touch the water fountain', Mike said.
'Oh, I didn't know that. I'm Maisie'.
'Mike. This is Diane, and other others'.
'London is strange'.
'Yes, it is', Temple said.
'There's a fireplace nearby'.
'Good. I need to relax'.
'There's a grey chair'.
'Thank you', Maisie said.
And she sat down, and slept for the next hour.
The warm fire kept Olsen Roamer free from the cold.
He saw the girl was asleep.
He saw the flickering embers.
They were burning.
He looked at the lamps that illuminated the stone roads.
The girl rolled over, and dreamed.
Olsen left her alone.
He didn't want to disturb her.
Outside, it was raining heavily.
He covered her with a grey blanket.
And then he did the same with his black colored blanket.
And he went to sleep, as well.
Tuesday morning
London, England, 2016
8:30 AM
The Alchemist's Circle was full of magicians, and witches.
The bright morning light illuminated the road. Temple watched the sun. It burned in the sky; it was illuminating near Hyde Park. She watched the witches near the warm fireplace. Their cold hands were due to the weather. London wasn't raining-yet. But the afternoon would be different, according to the BBC news broadcast. Temple saw a group of six hooded men and women.
They cast a spell, and bright colors shone near their faces.
And, as it hit the front door of the Library of the Arcane, the magical World was protected by the Barrier.
David sensed something was wrong.
He watched the newcomers with a sense of wariness. 'Who are you? And what do you want?', he asked them.
'I'm Caine Roman Matting. Grand Warlock of London', he answered.
'I'm Eleanora Matting, his wife'.
'I'm David Carter. I'm a wizard. This is Amie, Temple, Natalie, Mike, and Maisie'. The other girls, and young women, were smiling at the strangers. They were eager to show them where the fireplace was burning with wood. David walked to the garden. It was full of tomatoes, mushrooms, and other vegetables. 'The Barrier has been broken', he said.
'Yes, that is unfortunate', Caine said.
'You seem to know that because you're a Higher Up Warlock'.
'Yes, and so is a lot of warlocks in the United Kingdom', the Warlock said. Eleanora grabbed a silvery colored dagger in her right hand. 'There's a lot of dark witches, and dark wizards, in the city. Times are rough these days'.
'I understand. But why is it?', David asked her.
'Magic is not for all people, David. Besides, the Alchemical Society members are used to dealing with non-magical items', Caine answered.
'Non-magical items'.
'Yes, they confiscate them', Caine said.
'Would you two like some wizard's tea, and magic cake?', Amie asked them.
'Yes, thank you', Caine answered, and smiled.
Then, outside, it started to rain.
Tuesday afternoon
London, England, 2016
9:45 AM
The girl and her parents were at the School for the Gifted. She glanced at the teachers, and waited. It was early in the morning; shadows weren't at the hallways. They were dim in the rooms to the left; to the right was a water fountain. 'Mom, can I have a drink?', she asked her.
'Yes, Anja', she answered.
Anja, who was twelve, drank.
As she did so, she had a weird feeling that something wasn't right. The girl was smiling at her, as if she was someone who was different from the others. The idea that witches, wizards, orcs, trolls, and goblins, and fairies, as well as pixies, were far from Anja's mind.
The door opened.
Margaret Davies, the Principal, smiled at her.
'Good morning, Mrs. Frasier. How are you doing?', she asked her.
'I'm fine. My daughter, Anja, is German. She is good with English', she answered. Anja watched the Grandfather clock that chimed nine times. Arnold Frasier, the father, checked his I-phone. He had 6 messages. He read them, and waited. 'You all can come inside the Office', Margaret Davies answered.
'Thank you, Principal Davies', Arnold Frasier said.
Anja followed them, and closed the mahogany door behind her.
In the forest, Tomas Schlosser sipped some wizard's tea. He was eager to deal with the orcs. The creatures were in the darkness. He waited, watched. Then he heard the sound of footsteps. Tap...tap...tap...tap...tap...Then there was silence. He ran to the stones, and kept out from view.
Suddenly he saw a grey carriage.
The orcs gripped their sharp daggers.
Their eyes were black.
As they attacked the humans, the sound of screams were heard. Tomas fought one of them. He didn't care if he was cut, or hurt. One of the girls cried. 'Quiet!', he told her. The girl nodded. She didn't want to cause a fuss; she was eager not to deal with the creatures.
Afterwards, Tomas was looking at the orcs.
They had fled from the forest.
Tomas and the girl waited, then the carriage man gripped the black colored reigns in his gloved hands, and raced away from danger.
The city of London was in crisis.
The Prime Minister, and Deputy Prime Minister, were clashing. They didn't know how to deal with the magical folk; they were thinking about their policies at Number 10 Downing Street.
The rain was flooding London.
And the city was drowned in anxiety.
Maisie was warm now.
She grabbed a clean, grey shawl, and wrapped it around her body.
The rain was heavier now in London.
'I hate the rain', Maisie said.
'Tonight, we're having steak and mushroom pie, vegetables, and gravy', Mike said. She smiled.
'Great!', she said.
'We can swap cooking chores', Mike said.
'Good. Now, what...', Maisie begun to say before thunder and lightning clashed outside in the black sky.
Tuesday evening
London, England, 2016
6:00 PM
It was a dull evening in London.
Frank Price, the BBC newsman, walked to the Irish Pub.
He was opening the door, and went inside.
One of the waitresses greeted him.
'How are you doing, Frank?', Siobhan asked him.
'Fine. Table for one, please. And, can I read the menu?', he answered.
'Fine, table 5 is free'.
'Thank you, Siobhan'.
Frank wore a grey jacket, brown trousers, a black belt, orange-green socks, and black shoes that was freshly polished. His silver watch was on his right hand. He sat down. Then he said: 'I'd like some porterhouse steak, medium-rare, mushroom sauce, and a Guinness beer, please'.
'No worries. It should be half an hour'.
'I can wait, Siobhan'.
And she smiled, and wrote the order down with her felt pen on a piece of paper. Then she headed through the white doors that led to the huge kitchen.
Wednesday morning
London, England, 2016
7:00 AM
The wizard glided down the hallway.
He had been watching the bells that tolled.
The religious people were attending morning prayers at the Catholic Church. He looked at the Mirror, and saw himself in the foggy glass. Others walked towards the chamber. He stopped, and listened. Then he saw someone. It was Madeline Camp, a witch.
'Silas Moncrief is in London'.
'The Warlock's son'.
'Yes, I'm afraid so'.
The Wizard pondered the news.
'I have read The Alchemical Times newspaper'.
'Have you?'.
'Yes'.
'There's talk about the Library of the Arcane'.
'Take me to it', the Wizard said.
And she nodded, and cast a spell that led them through the Barrier, and to the Library.
Over a long period of time, Silas Moncrief shattered the notion of power that gripped London; power that gripped the country of England for centuries. The belief in the idea of witches, warlocks, and wizards, (and other magic folk), was part of the Alchemist's Circle, (in which the only power in the city); the belief in the notion of spells, runes, and tarot cards at fetes, and carnivals.
Silas grabbed his coat with his right hand, and kept warm.
The sound of voices was dimmed.
Then he touched the water fountain near the Thames River. And was transported to the Library of the Arcane, through the Barrier.
Wednesday morning
London, England, 2016
The Alchemist's Circle was full of sorcerers. They were eager to use their wands for magical purposes; they looked at the Dragon's Mirror. Over a long period of time, before the Barrier was finished in 1532, the darkness of the hour was all but forgotten; the Barrier was there to prevent the magic World from being seen by the human World, thus as a consequence, all of the bright colors that formed in the sky, was diluted over the centuries.
And, as a result, all of them sat on their own black chairs, planning their day in the cold chamber.
The blue skies over London was a contrast to the bleakness of the previous evenings.
Harold Meeks, a wizard, stood near the Irish Pub called The Grey Owl. He looked at the group of witches, and wizards. They sang songs around the warm fireplace, and were merry. Few of them were using their wands; few were eager to deal with from the fire that was full of burned wood that crackled along the silver grille that protected them from harm.
Meeks saw the young woman witch.
'More ale, Stephanie, please'.
'Sure, Harold. How are you doing these days?', Stephanie asked him.
'Times are tough. Mother is ill in bed; Father is in the ports working. They're magical folk, and won't think about the Library of the Arcane....until the Barrier is touched. That is the rumor', Harold answered.
Stephanie nodded.
'Here's your ale, Harold', she said.
'Thanks. May I have some wizard's Irish stew. I'm rather hungry', Harold asked her. 'Not a problem, Harold', Stephanie answered.
And she wrote down the order with her dragon's pen, and walked through the Iron Doors to the aromatic kitchen.
The Rose Tavern
London, England, 2016
3PM
The last time Lord Randal Moore looked at the servant-girl she was pouring his wizard's tea. 'Thank you, Eve'. The servant-girl nodded. 'If you need anything, let me know, my Lord', Eve said.
'I will, Eve. If you need some tea, send me the bill on my account', Lord Randal said. She smiled, and walked away to greet the other travelers.
The gust of wind blew from the north.
Soldiers were armed with swords in their hands.
They had been near the Barrier.
'Close it off!', General Mark Gray yelled.
And, as a bright light erupted in the sky, all of London erupted in colors.
David watched the fireplace.
He was thinking about the wizards.
The last time he was in the woods, he saw some ducks in the pond. The water was cold.
He had imagined that the shadows had dimmed by time itself. He had been interested in the clocks since he was seven years' old. He saw Diane. 'What's wrong?', Diane asked him.
'Nothing...It's just I have to deal with the Alchemist's Circle', David answered. She nodded, and they hugged each other by the warm fireplace.
Maisie yawned.
She was tired from all of the classes.
She grabbed the book from the Library of the Arcane.
She watched the clock to chime four times.
Then she knew it was time for school to end in the mid-afternoon.
Thursday morning
London, England, 2016
4:00 AM
Tod Kramer, a London truck driver, was on the M1. It was a foggy night so far; it was now nearly dawn; it was, as it always had been, a chore to drive all night from Cornwall to London, and back again. He smoked his favorite cigarette. It had been burning brightly outside, as a fire was spreading. Fire sirens blared loudly. Exasperated, he decided to drive to Bert's Gas Station to re-fuel. The sounds were louder now.
A sign read: Due to fire in London, drivers need to evacuate immediately-Signed Martin Closer, Mayor of London. Tod sighed with frustration. Then he paid for the fuel, and drove away. By 6:00 AM, the Roadhouses would be open for breakfast. That was in two hours' time. He went to a restroom. The bright lights illuminated the Men's section of the all night place. He washed his hands, and dried them. Then he headed back to his truck. He was glad to be on the road; he looked at the cars, vans, and trucks that were parked near Forster Road. He drove faster than he could deal with since the fires started; he shivered from the bitter cold.
As he settled down on the leather seat, Tod headed to Cornwall.
It would be six-thirty or so before he reached his destination.
The Alchemist's Circle was full of witches, wizards, and warlocks. They were eager to perform magic spells; spells were full of different things to do. The weather was cold; colder than the rest of the week.
They headed to the Library of the Arcane by touching the water fountain.
David was thinking about dinner.
He had been amazed by the stories the wizards gave. Diane sipped some wizard's tea. 'It's time to eat, and then go to sleep', she said.
'Yeah, it's been a long day', David smiled.
He kissed her, and she smiled.
David slept on the blue colored sofa by the warm fireplace with Diane next to him. Temple, and the other witches, and wizards, did the same.
It was a cold night in London.
Thursday afternoon
London, England, 2016
5:00 PM
Temple saw the Russian witch, and wizard.
'Who are you?', she asked.
'I'm Elena. This is Piotr', she answered.
'We're part of the old Soviet Union Alchemist's Circle near Moscow. For a long time, since the First Wizard's War of 1679, in the seventeenth century, there was a lot of magicians who died against the Grand Warlock of St. Petersburg, Anatoli Kavarov. He was born in 1603, and died in 1683. The Russians believed in arcane magic over the centuries. We're the next generation to follow in his footsteps. Now, we're in London, England, at the Library of the Arcane, where we can meet all kinds of witches, wizards, and warlocks', she said.
'I'm David Carter. This is Amie, Temple, Caine, Natalie, and Jim Frasier. He is rather too busy these days to meet and greet us', he said.
'Really', Elena said, surprised.
'People come and go here, Elena', Temple said.
'We need to warm our cold hands', Piotr said.
And they were eager to search the Library of the Arcane as the talk of magic filled their minds with wonder.
Frank Price stood in Hyde Park.
Other couples were eating, drinking, and kissing.
The blankets kept them warm.
He looked at the water fountain.
Feeling thirsty, he drank from the fountain.
As he touched it with his right hand, bright colors swirled around him. He then was transported to the Library of the Arcane, a magical place that was getting fuller each evening.
David saw the flash of bright light.
He blinked as Frank was near the front door of the old Library.
'Someone's here', he said.
He opened the door, and saw the stranger.
'Who are you?', he asked.
'Frank Price. I touched the water fountain at Hyde Park. And I came here by magic', Frank answered.
The goblins were asleep at the post.
'Please, come inside. I'm David Carter'.
And Frank smiled, and entered the Library through the front door.
Diane was sipping wizard's tea.
She looked at the stranger.
'Diane, this is Frank Price. He is someone who is magical but has no powers so far', David said.
'How strange', Diane said.
And Frank smiled, as he warmed his cold hands by the fireplace.
Temple watched the newcomer.
She sensed something was wrong.
She had been studying a book of spells.
In her mind, magic was for magical people, not outsiders. She looked at the elves, who were eager to serve their Masters. The elves lived in the Green Forests. In her chamber room was a cauldron, and Dragon Mirror. She had been reading until she yawned, then she slept on her bed until dinner was ready.
The man was near the open fireplace.
He had heard the siren's song from the Lake of Dreams. He shifted in his majestic red colored robes; he was thinking about the Vale of Thoughts, which collected all things that wizards, warlocks, and witches, were thinking. He saw the Lady of Fears, who shifted in the Grey Comforter that she brought in New York. She seemed unperturbed since Reckoning. She gripped the black hood that was over her head; she held onto it, as she focused on the Bitter Light that illuminated the cold fire, which had to be ignited.
'My dear, it is time for the Feast', the man said.
'Yes, it is time', the woman stated.
In the small chamber was their two children. Mark, six; and Tracey, five. Their blonde hair was cut short military-style; their faces were attuned to the eerie silence. 'Mother! Father!', Mark yelled.
'Yes, Mark'.
'The Great Seers are in the Temple of Sighs', Tracey said.
'It's not your time to go there, Tracey', their Mother said.
'When will we go there?', she asked.
'Soon; very soon', Father answered.
And the children smiled.
Mara Lowe was inside the Temple of Sighs.
She hadn't focused on the religious aspect of the Doors of the Alchemist's Path. The wall sconces were dim on the watery holes that led to the Waterfalls of Time. She hated water because of her fear of drowning. The distant memory of the Chaos Wars had started a century ago, and it never became a faded sign of the bitterness that caused her immense pain. In her mind, the Noble Ones, were preying to their own Gods, Priestesses, and other people of religion who held onto their Bibles, Torah, and Koran, in their hands in the Churches they resided in. Mara focused on the Inner Mind, a female deity statue that was in the middle of the spacious room. She prayed in silence. Her eyes were green. Her ears listened to the voices that were whispered in the Amber Chamber. Father Colton appeared. 'It is time, Mara, to go towards the Library of the Arcane', he said. She frowned. I don't know about that place, she thought to herself.
Father Colton waved his left hand in the warm air.
'You will go now', he said to Mara.
She cried, but she didn't want to let the Father know she was weak. She breathed hard, then she strode away from the statue, and left the Father alone, so she could deal with her own mysterious future.
The Library of the Arcane was dimmed by evening.
The lamps illuminated the arches.
Mara stood near the front entrance, where trolls were asleep. Their noses were covered in warts; their sallow skin was sickly to see. She saw the front entrance. Written in bold letters were the words: Library of the Arcane. She knocked on the door.
Diane watched her.
'Who are you?', she asked her.
'Mara Lowe', she answered.
'Are you magical?', Diane asked her.
'I'm a religious servant of God. I was summoned here', Mara answered. She exuded a sense of power.
Diane felt something move in the cold, nightly, air.
'Come inside, Mara'.
'Thank you', Mara said.
And she went inside, as it rained outside.
The night time was different.
Mara watched the different types of witches, and wizards. And warlocks. They were smiling, eating, drinking, as harp music played by elves. The time was 5:00 PM. Mara made the sign of the Cross, and headed to the warm fireplace. The Library of the Arcane was something that wasn't like the Church on Sundays; Father Colton wasn't around to say his criticisms of her gown, boots, and clothing. Thunder boomed in the night sky, as she yawned.
She slept on one of the spare grey chairs, and dreamed of the old magic that was within her grasp.
Saturday morning
London, England, 2016
7:30 AM
The morning was quiet. David relaxed by the warm fireplace, and ate his breakfast with his friends.
The fate of the World, (as it was happening), begun slowly.
Diane watched the Iron Doors.
She watched the group of travelers.
'The weather is bad', she said.
'I know', David stated.
'What are we going to do?', Diane asked him.
'Make sure the Barrier is not breached', David answered.
'Somehow, there's a lot of people who aren't magical who are in the Library of the Arcane', Diane said.
'And, the point is...?', David asked her.
'The point is that you're thinking there has to be rules for us, and the humans are not magical', Diane answered.
'But, something is wrong', David said.
'I don't want to deal with magic', Diane stated.
He walked towards her.
'What's the matter? Is it because of your parents?', David asked her.
'No...Yes...'.
'Yes, or no. What is it?'.
'Look, there are certain ways my kind does things'.
'And my way is part of the Alchemist's Circle'.
'You're not an Alchemist', Diane said.
'No, but I am the son of wizards, and witches. It's in my bloodline'.
'And mine, too', Diane said.
'Let's talk in the Library'.
'Fine, let's go then'.
And Diane smiled.
Mara waited.
'I don't want to be a bother to everyone. I am of the Christian faith. At least, I was before I left the Temple of Sighs. It's a Godly place where I was waiting to be a Priestess. But that life is gone', she said. Temple nodded. 'It's not my idea to deal with faith; it's not my idea to deal with God, and Jesus Christ Himself. I was following my Path to Enlightenment. Then everything changed', Mara added. Temple listened; Mara knew she was different.
'We are all drawn to the Path', Temple said.
And Mara nodded.
Jim watched the window.
He was thinking about the Shadows of Time. He checked the Grandfather clock. By four o'clock PM, in the mid-afternoon, the clouds hovered above the Library. The threat of rain descended on the Dragon Windows. He sipped wizard's tea. The elf girl was smiling at him.
'It's part of the game', she said.
'The game', Jim said.
'The Game of Thorin', the elf said.
'I see'.
'Yes, we all play the Game of Thorin. It's part of the way we seek things after the Chaos of Time happened'.
'That was a century ago'.
'Yes, it is', the elf smiled.
'But, what do we do now?'.
'You'll serve the Lords of the Towers'.
'I don't think so'.
'But, you will. It has been foretold by the Seers of Darkness'.
'The Seers of Darkness'.
'Yes, you've heard of them'.
'No'.
'It's part of the Cycle'.
'The Cycle'.
'Yes'.
'I don't understand'.
'In time you will understand'.
And Jim sighed, and knew that his future was clouded in mystery.
The raging seas off Cornwall was shifting into the violent storm. Martin Scholl, a German fisherman, looked at the ship, The Rage Reach, was in port over the bitter shores. He smoked a pipe, as the Cornish coastline was battered overnight. He looked at the bow.
'Anderson! Go port side!', Martin shouted.
'Yes, Martin', Anderson said.
'The ocean is rough'.
'I know that'.
'We need to prepare for the worse'.
'I know. Let's inform the Coast Guard'.
'Good idea', Martin said.
And they preyed to God before the darkness arrived.
The shadows loomed over the flickering path. Emory Grey looked at the Arches. He heard the sound of footsteps on the cobbled roads of London; he was thinking about the gnomes in the garden. He imagined they were speaking to him. He heard the sound of voices near the entrance to The Paget House, a place for travelers in London. He watched the carriages. For a long time, nothing happened. He forced a smile, as he watched a woman who was crying.
'Excuse me, Ma'am, but are you alright?', he asked her.
'Oh, yes. I'm sorry, I am a fright', she answered.
'No, besides, have you heard about the Library of the Arcane?'.
'Yes, my sister, Diane, is there. I'm Amy'.
'Emory'.
'Would you like to go there, Amy?'.
'Yes, I'd like that', Amy said.
And she smiled, as they walked to the front entrance to the magical Library.
They didn't see the goblins watching them.
Sunday morning
London, England, 2016
4:00 AM
The time was soon.
The fragileness of the London sky burst like a miasma of lights.
Mike watched the sky, and knew that the call to God was in the cold air.
'This is...', Mara begun to say.
'Terrible', Temple said.
'What I want to say is the Warlock is around the Library', David said.
'The Warlock', Mara gasped.
'Yes, the one who dominates the city of London', Temple told her.
'Yes, where is he?'.
'There! See!', Temple pointed with her right hand.
And the Warlock arrived at the Library of the Arcane holding its right hand.
The Warlock of London appeared in a grand entrance.
He had a red hood over his head, and a black robe.
He strode forward towards the warm fireplace.
'I am Edward Poole Schaeffer'.
'Good morning. I'm David Carter'.
'You are part of the Library?', Edward asked him.
'Yes, we're all magical', Temple answered.
'The security is lax', Edward said.
'There's been a lot of people here', Cara said.
'That is a problem', Edward said.
'Yes, indeed it is', Diane said.
'Then, I shall make sure the Library of the Arcane is secured', Edward stated. He waved his grey wand in the air, and the Barrier came downward outside the magical Library.
In the scheme of things, the last thing Margot Roach knew was that she hated the Library of the Arcane; she was thinking it was too dark for her religious beliefs. The sacred duty she performed at the Catholic Church was for God, and Jesus Christ. Sunday prayers were at six o'clock AM, 11:00 AM, 4 PM, and 6:00 PM. Margot prayed until she slept in the chamber where she lived.
The group of travelers were asleep in the Library of the Arcane. They were eager to meet, and greet, the Warlock; the Warlock dragged the rope that was on the ground with his black, gloved hand. He was convinced in the disturbances in the ether. 'Go forward to the pyre', he said. Mara gasped. A pyre! That's unclean!'. The Warlock smirked.
'It's for a funeral, Mara'.
'You know my name'.
'Yes, I know everything'.
'God knows everything, you liar'.
The Warlock grinned.
'You're the liar'.
Mara closed her eyes, and prayed to God.
Then, to the wizard's amazement, a bright, colorful, aura exploded in the air, and he was afraid of God's wrath in the Library of the Arcane.
'Jesus Christ in Heaven', Cara prayed.
'What are you doing? He's...dead', Diane cried.
'He's not dead. God punished him', Mara said.
'Punished....'.
'Yes'.
'You're more powerful than he is'.
'I pray each day'.
'We shall all prey', David said.
And that was the end of the matter of faith.
Sunday evening
London, England, 2016
6:00 PM
It was late at night.
David yawned after the feast.
He slept soundly by the warm fireplace with his friends.
Then the Wizard left them alone, and headed to the chamber in the middle of the hallway to the left of the Library.
Monday morning
London, England, 2016
8:00 AM
Temple heard the sound of footsteps down the cold hallway.
She ignited the burning wood.
The fireplace was protected by a silvery colored grille.
'Is it good to be here alone?', David asked her.
'No. But, there's a lot of people who are afraid of the Warlock's power', she answered.
'My faith in God is powerful', Mara said.
'That's good', Natalie said.
And, as the light came on, the heat warmed up the Library of the Arcane.
The coldness in London was because the countries river systems was near the parks, Estate houses, and places where families went to; the coldness froze the city during winter time, as the skate parks had a field day with skaters having a great day there; the coldness didn't bother the humans, because they could come back to their warm houses at night time, leaving the goblins, trolls, and elves, to snore in the dim woods, as their eyes adjusted to the bleakness of the middle of the woods, where they ate, drank, and were planning to get rid of the humans with their own kind of dark magic.
The bell tolled four o'clock PM.
Delia Markham looked at the lights.
She was eager to tell her sister, Anna.
But she had been at the market for groceries, and food. She watched the darkness of the windows; she imagined there were elves near the forest. By mid-afternoon, the darkness caused heavy rain in London. Delia watched the rain pour downward towards the Thames River.
The voices of the market workers was loud.
Delia watched the boys, and girls, were eating apples with their parents. Harp players were singing songs, as the festivities were beginning to happen. She paid for two apples and ate them to stave off hunger. Then she headed to the water fountain; she touched it with her small, left hand.
Then, in a matter of seconds, bright colors appeared in her eyesight. Blue, red, and green was seen.
She was afraid, as she was transported to the Library of the Arcane.
There was a loud bang! sound.
David opened the Iron Door.
Delia was blinking her green eyes.
'Who are you?', David asked her.
'Delia Markham. I touched the water fountain, and I was thirsty. And there was a flash of light, and I was here', she answered.
'There's a lot of witches, and wizards, at the magical Library. I'm David Carter, a wizard. Please, come inside', he said.
'Thank you', Delia said.
And the doors closed, as she saw four goblins were asleep at their post.
Mara watched the stranger.
'Good morning. I'm Mara', she said.
'Hello. I'm Delia'.
'Welcome to the Library of the Arcane'.
Delia nodded, and was shown to the bookcase that was full of rare books that was from A-Z.
Monday afternoon
London, England
3:00 PM
The Library was full of people.
Diane watched the new stranger.
'It seems everyone's here'.
'We can't stop all of us in the Library', Maisie said.
'No', Diane stated.
'What about the Warlock?', Mike asked her.
'He'll be fine', Diane answered.
'Will he'.
'Yes', Mike said.
And he let the matter rest.
The man was holding onto the fire lamp in his right, black gloved hand. He looked at the east, where the Shadows of Time reaped the reward for creating a Path to the Gardens; he was thinking that the darkness had been found on the houses nearby. He smoked a pipe, and smoked it without harm to him.
Mike watched the book was read quickly. He was thinking about Mara. He hadn't met a girl of religious faith, and power. He knew, deep down, that she would be nice to go out with. But her aura was powerful; her power had brought down the Warlock. For awhile, he didn't need to make her feel better since she came to the Library of the Arcane.
'Are you okay, Mara?', Mike asked her.
'Yes', she answered.
'There's a lot of people here', Mike said.
'I know that; you know that', Mara stated.
And she smiled.
The fires burned.
Jane Kendall walked to the wood.
She carried them to the fire, and warmed her cold hands. She focused on the wood; she focused on the children. 'It's time before the Rising of Time happens', she announced. 'What will we do?', Fergus asked her. 'Make sure we're alive', Jane answered.
They nodded, and all of them kept warm in the middle of the cold woods.
Mara watched the fireplace.
She walked away, and headed to the room in the thin hallway. She opened it, and flicked on the light. As she did so, she was thinking of the past; she was thinking about the Temple of Sighs. The religious leaders were deep in thought; leaders that honed their traditional beliefs. They didn't need to lie to her; they didn't want to lie. Consequently, she had no faith in the Order. The room was small. The lights illuminated her youthful face; her eyes flickered towards the mirror.
She finished, and washed her hands.
Then she opened the door.
And she walked back towards the fireplace, where the others were dozing.
Shadows were near the water fountain.
Fran Ives walked near the pebbles. She flicked some of them into the water. There was a bouncing sound; there was a sound that was familiar to her. 'Fran!', her Mother said. 'Yes, Mother'. She skipped near the car which was nearby. The cars were parked near Hyde Park, where teenagers were kissing on dates. The modern World was different from the Magical World, especially in London, England. Fran walked to the Hot Dog stand. The man smiled at her. 'Excuse me, but can I have a Chili dog, with mustard, and onions, please?', Fran asked him.
'Sure, that's 4 pounds', he answered.
She have him a 5 pound note.
And have it to him.
He gave her change, as she enjoyed her food.
As she did so, she tripped and fell onto the water fountain. Bright colors illuminated her face, and she disappeared into the ether, leaving her Mother to gasp in shock. 'Fran! Fran!'.
It was too late, she was gone.
The goblins were asleep.
They didn't hear, not see, when Fran was at the Library. She walked to the front door; she banged on the door with her right hand.
The door opened.
'Who are you?', Mike asked her.
'I'm Fran. I touched the water fountain at Hyde Park', she answered.
'Come with me', Mike said.
'What's this place?', Fran asked him.
'The Library of the Arcane. I'm Mike', he answered. And she saw the other witches, wizards, and the Warlock, who were still asleep.
The Priestess of Time stood near the Gargoyle statue. She had thought about the future; she was gliding in her red colored gown that hit the cobbled steps that led to the private chambers. In her mind, the Library of the Arcane was so powerful that she wanted destroy it.
She heard the iron doors was open.
A tall woman appeared.
'Elizabeth Kimble', she said.
The woman bowed.
'It's been a long time', the assassin said.
'Yes, it has. I want a report on the Warlock'.
'He was beaten by a girl in religious powers'.
'That can't happen'.
'It has'.
'We have to do something', the Priestess ordered.
Elizabeth bowed.
'I'll go now', she said.
And she opened the doors, and headed towards the Library of the Arcane.
Roscoe Marr, the servant-boy, watched the parade. In his mind, Princess Annalise was on the throne. She was wearing a majestic tiara with red colored rubies on her small head; her gown was purple colored. It was trailing down past her silvery colored shoes on the cobbled ground. Her red hair glowed in the part sun, part grey weather, as it started to rain. Irritated, she waved her right hand, and the Royal Court meeting was over prematurely.
Roscoe sighed, and he walked away from the Court that was in session.
He ate an apple.
Once he was over his ravenous hunger, he ran to the Markets. Over the next hour, he walked to the old man. 'I need to see her'. The man waved at Roscoe. The boy smiled; the old man was too busy attending to other men, women, boys, and girls. The business was booming.
'Go away!'.
Roscoe sighed, and ran to his cheaply made house where his parents lived.
'Mother! Father!'.
They were in the bed sick.
Roscoe cried.
He didn't want to see them die.
He raced to the water fountain. Nearby was where Doctor Nathaniel was. He didn't have any medication to make them better.
And, when they did die, he cried until he was all out of fresh tears.
Part II
For the Watcher of Time, the grime came off the sharp rocks. He glanced at the workers; he walked to the Towers. He breathed in and out; he breathed until the stones fell next to his feet. He saw the villagers were awake. The morning's sun's rays hit the cheap windows, as the Bell Ringer rang three times.
'Get inside now!', he ordered.
And they nodded.
David watched the sun.
He saw Mara was alone.
'Are you okay?', he asked her.
'Yes, tomorrow is another day', she answered.
'Dinner is served', Diane said.
And, as they enjoyed eating, and drinking in the Feast Hall, the sound of footsteps was heard outside the Library of the Arcane.
'I'll see who it is', Mike said.
He walked to the front door, and opened it.
Three Black Warlocks appeared.
'At last! We're here!', Quentin Marlowe, the Head Warlock of London, said. He waved at Mike, and he let them inside the Library.
Diane waited.
She was anxious.
The darkness of the previous evening descended into the abyss.
'But, what about the other Warlock?', she asked Quentin.
'That is most unfortunate. But, over time, there's a tipping point, emotionally. Religious power by Mara was something that's unforeseen by him. Mara has the power, and she went away from her house because it was in her future; her own future, do you see'.
'Yes'.
'Good. We can control her by arcane magic. Mara has come here on her own. We shall talk to her now', Quentin said.
And, as he saw her, Mara waited to be forced away from the Library.
Yet, that didn't happen.
It made her feel better...just.
Quentin glided towards the warm fireplace. Some of them was burned; some was destroyed by ashes. He flickered towards the arches with his hands; he was thinking about the religious girl. Prayer was for the Acolytes of Barr. Not for girls, boys, and adults, unless they were eager to have the faith. Faith came down to belief; belief was part of the way to power without going overboard. Belief, and faith, was part of the way forward in Churches. Quentin looked at the bigger group of people than was reported; people didn't rush, and bother him. Unless they were powerful like Mara had been. Mara was the exception. Her power needed to be channeled, not ripped away from those who didn't understand arcane magic. There was books on the subject; books did what was needed in the musty old Library. Quentin thought about the dead Warlock. He sighed. Mara would be taken care of in time, not now. 'Now, there's a funeral to attend to', he announced.
And the children nodded.
Diane watched the mourners.
She didn't care about the death of the Warlock. Evil was evil. She was amazed that Mara, when she was attacked, had her religious power that caused death. She hadn't thought about it; she was sipping warm wizard's tea. She finished up, and waved at an elven girl.
The elf bowed.
And took the mug away.
The darkness came towards the Ashes. He walked towards the woman. 'It's over', he said.
'Grab the lamp, Christine', Orton said.
'What's the matter?', she asked him.
'The Warlock is dead', Orton answered.
'That's a tragedy', Christine said.
They warmed their cold hands, and slept by the beds in the middle of the small chamber room.
The weather was freezing.
David was with Cara.
'What is it?', Cara asked him.
'Nothing', David answered.
'Nothing. How can you know that?', she said. He thought for a moment. Then he sighed, as the Warlock watched them. Diane, Elena, and Piotr, were eager to deal with the dead body themselves. Death was death. Life was life. Mara sensed something was wrong.
'Let's go to the Altar', Mara said.
And they preyed in the Catholic Church.
The girl drank water from the fountain.
Her green eyes focused on her parents.
She imagined the coldness of the London weather didn't bother her. She held onto the coat she was wearing; she pondered on the hills nearby. She reached the stones; the stones were grey colored, and sharp to hold. She picked it up. It was red colored; it was a ruby.
Expensive to touch, and to buy.
She saw a boy nearby.
'That's from the Sorceress', he said.
'The Sorceress'.
'The Sorceress of Fates'.
'I read about her'.
'Have you?', the boy asked her.
'Yes', the girl answered.
He held onto a spell book.
On the cover were the words:
The Old Book of Arcane Spells by R. T. James, Jr
They read some of the book, as lightning crackled in the blackened sky.
The road to the Woods of Sorrow was widened by construction. Albert Prime stood near the holes. He had imagined the hole would be filled up. The rain was heavier; rain that was going to be a raging flood. Albert grabbed the phone, and dialed 999. And reported the surge of water that drenched the city.
Mara watched the Mirror.
She knew what was going on.
A magical shift had started to affect her.
'So, what now?', she asked Mike.
'Now, we shall do what the new Warlock says', Mike answered.
She nodded, and the magical World went into a crisis that tore England apart.
Natalie glided towards the warm fireplace.
She had dressed in different clothes.
She glanced at the mirror.
Shadows came forward.
She was thinking about every witch, and wizard, at the Library. The sound of footsteps was heard; footsteps that caused her to look around. Then she saw Mara. 'You scared me?', she asked her.
'Sorry. I was preying', Mara answered.
'You have powers we all don't have', Natalie said.
'I have faith', Mara said.
'Yes, and so do I. Let's read in the Library', Natalie said.
And Mara smiled.
It was a long night.
All of the witches, wizards, and the Warlock, ate a feast of food. And drank merrily. Afterwards, as the sun went downward, the London weather was cold. The moon's glow hovered above the Library of the Arcane, as another evening ended.
Wednesday morning
London, England, 2016
5:30 AM
Corinna McDonald was asleep in her bed.
The red curtains were covering up the windows. She saw her sister, Maddie McDonald, was asleep as well. Her breathing was normal; her face was fresh from scars that were on her knees from falling all of the time on the swings. Rain was on the windows, as the London coast battered the surf that raged. 'Corinna!'. She watched the ferocious rain; she was used to the footsteps coming closer and closer. 'MOTHER!', Maddie yelled.
The sound of footsteps came in a fury.
The bedroom opened.
A man stood near the door.
'I told you Irene, she's a problem', he said.
'But, she's a girl, Tod'.
'Don't tell me that, Irene. She screams like a banshee'.
'She's not a banshee...'.
'The screaming with stop now, or she is out of the house. And taken to that hospital for girls who are mad'.
'She is away with the fairies'.
'Fairies'.
'Yes'.
'Either she is out now, or else I'm leaving you'.
And he stormed back to the bedroom, and went to sleep.
Diane watched the mirror.
She brushed her hair.
The door opened from the deep chamber.
Mara smiled at her.
'Are you alone?', she asked her.
'Yes', Diane answered.
'What is it you need?'.
'Peace', Diane said.
'That's impossible'.
'How do you know that?'.
'Because, Diane, I'm your cousin'.
'Cousin. Mother and Father didn't tell me that'.
'That's why you're family'.
'That's good to know'.
And they hugged.
David walked to the Dragon's Hall. He reached the end of the majestic room. Knights in grey armor filled the hall; he saw the broadswords in their gloved hands. The sound of voices was heard in the Feasting Hall, as he saw Diane with Mara. Mike was speaking to Natalie; Cara was reading her spell books. Everyone was doing other things.
'It seems all of you not fighting me', Quentin said.
'If you did fight us, death will come to you', Mara stated.
'Death, I think not'.
She glided towards the Warlock.
'You're arrogant', Mara said.
'Is that a bad thing?', Quentin asked her.
'Yes', Mara answered. And she sighed, and attended to other matters, as the silvery colored bell tolled.
It was a cold morning in London, England.
The joggers were in Hyde Park.
They didn't see the elf near the brown colored bench. It was older now. Its pointed ears heard the voices of the humans; its eyes watched the water fountain. Children were talking to their parents; their faces were youthful. The elf watched the path, that led to the modern Restrooms.
It closed its eyes, and disappeared.
Corinna saw the rain recede.
She hadn't thought about the magic that was performed by her sister, Maddie. The screams had vanished; the silence in the bedroom was eerie. The fact was her parents didn't understand them. The fairies were real. They had been near the garden; they were near the gnomes. Their eyes focused on the girls. 'Mother is not happy', Corinna said.
'I know that', Maddie sighed.
'I saw the Library of the Arcane. We have to go there. There was an elf near the water fountain', Corinna said.
'Let's go then', Maddie said.
And they headed to the fountain in Hyde Park, where the magic happened.
Mike read a book from the Library of the Arcane.
He looked at Diane, as she smiled.
'Are we together?', he asked her.
'Yes', Diane answered.
He nodded.
'It seems all of us are watching others coming here'.
'Yes, it is', Diane said.
'It is intolerable'.
'Yes, it is'.
'What do we do now?'.
'We will practice magic'.
And Diane grinned, and was looking forward to spending time with him.
The last time the Acolytes of Time became silent was when the grimness of the Shadows of Fates clashed. It was inherently too bothersome to deal with; the Shadows of Fates were glancing at the blackness. Time was time. It was, and always was, a shimmering haze that came from the burning fires. The girl walked to the fire, as if entranced.
She forced herself to grab the grey rocks, as if she was seeing another person nearby; she was alone now. But, in her haste, the darkness was by the water fountain; a fountain in which the terror was away from her. Dark, arcane, magic that gripped those who dwelled there.
The Shadows of Fates door was open.
And she went inside.
Mara glided towards the Shadows of the Acolytes. She was preying harder than was normal; she was watching the witches, wizards, and Warlocks, as well as Sorceresses; she knew the price she paid for leaving the Temple of Sighs. In her mind, other forces gripped her, and made her feel frozen. But, to her, the Temple of Sighs lied to her, and for that, Mara hated the Warlocks that owned the temple. Magic was magic; death was death; evil was evil.
Mara breathed harder and harder, until she was more powerful than they were.
The burning flames of Orr consumed the blackened logs.
Shive, the servant-boy, gazed at the fire.
Voices came from the thick fog that gripped London. Shive was imagining the intense fire was crackling nearby. Orton Graves, the servant, stood by. Shive waited. It was something that disturbed them. The voices were louder; voices that caused them to back away from the fire.
'Who is it?', Orton asked him.
'The Warlocks of Fates', Shive answered.
'They're nearby', Orton said.
'Yes, they're near us. Let's see where they go', Shive said.
And they hid near the sharp rocks, as the company of six Dark Warlocks were riding on the black horses, their noses snorted in rage, as they descended on the empty campfire in the middle of the dim, cold, woods.
The old man was smoking a pipe.
Sander Gorman looked at the feathers on the mat. He seemed eager that old woman, Greta Gorman, his wife, would speak ill of her husband of fifty-four years. The four children, and ten Grandchildren, were in London, Scotland, and Europe; the eyes of her face dimmed with time. As he yawned, he went to sleep on the grey chair; the pillow kept him warm, as they saw the rain pour downward.
The rain raged.
Colman Holter sat on the ship's bow. He hated the weather. The sailor was in the sleeping decks in the aft-side of The Long Shadows ship. He tapped his left hand on the glass window, and shivered.
'The Atlantic Ocean is vast, and dangerous', Katherine Holter said.
'I know that; you know that'.
'Where're we going to?', Katherine asked her husband.
'The Vale of Triumphs', Colman answered.
And he smiled, as he kissed her.
Mara looked at the different clothes.
She opened the closet door.
Gowns, and other items of clothing fell downward towards the feet. The goblin's rug was green, and grey, colors; goblins were full of mischief. The shadows hovered above the thick walls that was tainted by time itself. Mara was yet to dream due to sleep. She focused on the Walls of Dreams; she was dreaming the Witch of the Vales. The old woman was alone in the castle. The dreaming was like a vision of different types of dreams that evoked battles of the heart, and the mind. Mara saw someone watching her. She backed away in fright. Then she saw the quickness of the goblins, elves, and banshees that dwelled in the Forest of Shadows. She sipped wizard's tea, and yawned, as she decided to go to bed in the Tower of the Arcane.
Jacobson strode forward towards Hollow's Breach on the cobbled path. The lamps illuminated the Road of the Light; the Road was known to Jacobsen. The religious Acolytes were secretive; Acolytes were preparing for the Dawn of the Lost People; the Lost People were serving God, and Jesus Christ for several centuries, until they went down a different path to Enlightenment. Jacobsen prayed too. He then shifted in the chamber, before the silence was loud enough to hear their voices that was like an echo.
In the Library, Diane looked at the battered, torn, book. She sighed. Some of the books were collectibles; some were Limited First Editions. Some were musty, and the dirt caused her to cough. She backed away from the Stones of Time. The red colored rubies illuminated the face; the rubies were from the family before her. She heard the sound of laughing.
A girl smiled at her.
'Who are you?', Diane asked her.
'Margot', she answered.
'Why are you here?'.
'I belong here', Margot said.
And she smiled.
Mara walked to the chamber.
She had her dinner in the Feast Hall, and went to sleep.
The rain continued to fall outside the Library of the Arcane.
Margot listened to the chimes.
She waited for the bell to ring, before Mass started.
Monday morning
London, England, 2016
7:45 AM
'Are you missing your parents, David?', Mara asked him.
'Yes, but they don't know where I am', he answered.
'It's always the way', Cara stated.
'What do you mean?'.
'My Mom is in Arizona in the United States with her new husband; my Father is with his new wife in Gloucestershire', Cara explained.
'Do you see them?'.
'Only on weekends', Cara sighed, and she cried.
The bells chimed again.
Frasier Morton Price stood near the Library's Hall. He whispered to the Warlock. 'It's time before the New Moon comes tomorrow night; it's what is done tonight that matters...'. The Warlock considered this.
'The religious girl is powerful because of her faith', Frasier said.
'I don't believe in faith'.
'That's too bad. Of course, such things are a problem', Frasier said.
And then it started to rain again.
The cold weather was drenching the windows.
Anna Kempe yawned.
She had looked at the table near the Arched Doors. She had imagined that her parents would talk to her about the Library of the Arcane. The sun had faded, letting in the freezing temperatures in the city to cause mayhem. Anna waited, as she heard the sound of footsteps.
She turned around, and saw her brother.
'It's time for dinner', Christopher Kempe said.
'Is it?'.
'Yes'.
She nodded, and she followed her brother to the Feast Hall.
The Arched Hill was silent.
May Grove looked at the statues of lions in the Conservatory. She waited until the darkness descended on the house; she was thinking about the Chaos Wars. The eerie silence was loud; loud enough to shatter the glass. 'Don't go near that', Edward Poole said.
'Why not?', May asked him.
'The glass is dangerous', Edward answered.
''Oh, I see', May said.
'I'm May'.
'Edward', he said.
'Where do you go to?'.
'The Fallen Rooms of Rubies'.
'Rubies'.
'Yes. Mom loves rubies, green emeralds, and white diamonds'.
'Mum does to'.
'I see', Edward smiled.
'Do you want to see the Library of the Arcane?'.
'What's that?', Edward asked.
'A place of magic', May answered.
And they saw the water fountain in Hyde Park.
And the two nine year old children touched it with their hands. Bright colors sparked; bright enough for them to disappear into the New World.
The Red Robed Man glided towards the Ports of London. He hadn't imagined what was going on these days; he was taking in the news of magic that was in the majestic city over the last couple of nights. The lamps illuminated the darkness of the Arches; lamps that were built back in the 1890's. He walked to the grocer's. 'Can I have some apples, pears, and oranges, please?', he asked the girl vendor.
'2 shillings, sir', she answered.
He paid for them, and placed it in a bag.
He then headed to the Hog's Head Inn for his dinner.
The Full Moon Tavern
London, England, 2016
5:00 PM
The raucous laughter of the old Tavern was full of travelers. Simon Craig watched the howling coming from the woods; he shivered. On the sign read: Werewolf Lodge. He had remembered the elf girl called Roa was bitten by one of the wolves back in America.
That was a long time ago.
Simon looked at the old cemetery.
Mist Gate-Beware of the vampires!
He smirked at the news, before he saw a pale looking girl nearby.
'I suppose you are here all night', she said.
'Yes, but I did see the wolf's picture'.
'New York is dangerous since the nineteen seventies, and nineteen eighties. Mom was American; Dad was Scottish. This is 2016; this is not 1973. I'm Kara'.
'Simon'.
'Please, follow me', Kara told him.
And she smiled.
Werewolf Lodge, Roa the elf
London, England, 2016
Simon heard the sound of the harp.
The elf girl was playing a folk song.
She smiled at the stranger.
'Here's a tune I wrote', she said.
And she started to play.
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The last time Seamus Rhodes believed in the elves, they were using arcane magic that was in the magical Library. His eyes focused on the Grandfather clock; his face was youthful. He looked at the sleeping trolls. They were snoring. He walked towards the front entrance.
And he knocked on the Iron Door.
The sound of footsteps caused Seamus to back away.
A short, overweight man appeared.
'What do you want?', he asked.
'I like to go inside the Library. Werewolf Lodge is nearby', Seamus answered. He watched the man, as the howling of the wolves on the moor was heard; howls that caused Seamus to feel fear. He saw the London girl near the warm fireplace. The darkness of the Library dimmed. He saw her. 'May I have a room , please?', he asked her.
'Yes, Sir. Please follow me. I'm Elsa'.
'Seamus', he said.
She smiled.
'One pound, Sir', she said.
He gave her the money to her, and rested in the empty chamber room.
The Tavern of Arcane-London, England, 2016
The afternoon was full of people.
Mainly travelers from far away.
Mara looked at the shining room.
She yawned, and went to sleep in the small chamber.
The sound of laughter was heard in Tavern of the Arcane. It was located in the far left of the ancient Library; it was full of travelers from beyond the Temple of Sighs. Anna looked at the dark room. A rogue was smoking a pipe. His eyes were blue. His ragged coat was torn from age, but wearable in the dusty chamber. His face was slightly scarred from brawls; his eyes flickered in the grimy fireplace, where people were asleep.
'Amos! More ale!', Simpkins said.
'Aye, Sir', Amos said.
He looked at the wench girl who was looking at the grime. She cleaned it with a rag in her small, left hand; she wore a grey apron. Her grey boots was fresh from cleaning.
'What's going on?', she asked him.
'I don't know', Simpkins answered truthfully. He didn't like to lie. His Mother and Father taught him not to lie, it was the Devil's work. On Sundays, they went to Church, and prey to God, and Jesus Christ Himself. 'Oh, God, in Heaven...;, Misty Grendel said. She looked at them, and cried.
'What is the matter, love?', Simpkins asked her.
'Nothing...', Misty answered.
She cried again.
'Lachlan Price was dead in battle, girl'.
'He was my husband'.
'How old are you?', Simpkins asked.
'Fourteen', Misty answered.
'Look, no one seems to deal with him. He is forty-seven'.
'And'.
'And those who have power will not think too much about young women who go to bed with them'.
'I don't care about him'.
'Yes, that is the truth of the matter'.
'Who are you?'.
'Simpkins, a travelling rogue'.
'I'm Misty'.
'A queer name for a girl'.
'It is not!'.
'I think we should eat, and be merry. Then we shall go to the Library of the Arcane. You shall be protected by me by trolls, goblins, and orcs'.
'They're nasty creatures'.
'Yes, they are', Simpkins nodded.
He didn't smile, as they ate pumpkin soup with herb bread, and drank ale.
Solana the Elf Princess
The elf watched the old Sorcerer. She gripped the last dagger from the arched walls; she watched the fire that was burning. 'Peter, where's the Old Man?', she asked him. 'Away, Solana', Peter answered. Solana sighed. Her pointed ears heard a lot of voices; voices that were far away.
Peter waited.
He saw their mother and father were by the warm fireplace.
'Liesel was here, then she disappeared'.
'Disappeared...'.
'Yes, after she had a fight. She is so impulsive'.
'Independent', Peter said.
'Yes, that to', Solana told him.
And she smiled.
'You don't need to be terrible to me', Liesel said.
'But, your sister's with that Sorcerer', Patrick said.
'Yes, that is all that matters. She is not like me; she is not too bright', Liesel lied. She focused on the Light of the Darkness.
'Maybe it was a mistake', Patrick said, sighing.
'No, it's not a mistake', Liesel said.
'How do you know that?', Patrick asked her.
'Dark arcane magic', Liesel answered.
And she showed him the Book of the Darkness.
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Solana waited.
There was a lot of rain in Edinburgh. She focused on the loch nearby. Monsters were nearby; a lot of monsters. She looked at Peter. 'Why is she evil?', she asked him. 'You're their favorite girl, Solana; you're an elf of courage. Liesel has other plans. Terrible plans', Peter answered.
And he shivered.
Mara watched the clock.
She glanced at the worshipers.
She prayed to God, as the Mass started.
Mike waited.
He was thinking about his mother. She didn't think he was up to bad magic. The Library had its own secrets; secrets that spelled doom to those who went there; secrets that dwelled on the witches, and witches, minds.
He saw Diane, who smiled at him.
'How are you feeling?', she asked.
'Better now', Mike answered.
'Mara is at Mass', Diane said.
'I'm not religious', Mike stated.
'Neither am I. But Mara has faith to attack her enemies'.
'I saw her power', Mike said.
And he heard the sound of footsteps.
They turned around, and saw Piotr and Elena were asleep on the grey chairs.
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Amie was opening her eyes.
She imagined she was seeing a Prince in her dreams. She focused on the shadows; the shadows dimmed over time. For her, the distant drums sounded loud, as if the wedding between Princess Caroline, and Prince Harris was at the Royal Church. She hadn't decided on the meet and greet display; she bowed in front of the carriage. Guards stood still as a statue, their broadswords were at their left and right. Their armor was silvery; their feet were covered by silver. It wasn't hard to walk on the cobbled road.
Then the gold horn blared, and everyone was looking forward to the joyous, ancient, ceremony.
Elf Princess of Snows Eleanora
The wild, elven woods was called Eaomoria, which was elvish for 'The Bitter Snow', descended on the families who worked, and lived, in the Forest of Garnoloaia, in Scotland. The Elf Princess of Snows, Eleanora, was wearing her silvery gown that kept her warm during the harsh winters across Europe, and the United Kingdom. She wore a grey tiara on her crown of her head; she walked towards the birch trees. The coldness was meant with death in some areas; the coldness was fickle in nature, but wasn't overpowering in the scheme of things. Eleanora walked to her throne, and sat on it, surveying the Kingdom that was in her bloodline. Several shards of glass fell downward; glass that fell next to her small feet. For awhile, the state of witches, wizards, warlocks, and spell casters over the country, had damaged the idea of harmony in the magical World. She saw the dead animals in the woods. She frowned; she cast a look at her sister, Elf Princess Emmaline. Her sister was a year older than her, and colder in her belief in the running of the Kingdom of the Elves; her face was harsher than she was. She grabbed her silvery coat with her left hand; she wore a tiara on her head. 'It seems you're not married, yet, sister', Elf Princess Emmaline said.
'I am waiting for the right Prince, sister', Elf Princess Eleanora said. She didn't need to compete with her sister; she didn't need to show off her powers of magic. In short, she was thinking about the Scottish Laws on Marriage. At fifteen, she was thinking about someone who loved her; she hadn't been pushed to marry. But Mother and Father had told her to do it soon, otherwise the Kingdom would be in deep trouble. In her mind, that was crazy.
The Horns of Blider was heard.
They looked at the King and Queen of the Elves. Their pointed ears was attuned to the noises of the voices of the Elf Royal Court; their eyes flickered to their parents. The Elf King, Gowson, and his wife, Ellisona, were smiling at their teenage daughters; their eyes were focused on the members of the Court. A tall, thin, man appeared. He wore a black robe, and was barefoot. He put his black boots on his feet. He was used to magical power, as the use of energy had pulled him away from the thrones. 'Today is the day of Judgment', Milson the Grey Magician, said. He glanced at the Princesses. 'And, what are you two Princesses doing?', he asked them.
'Waiting for the meeting to start, Milson', Elf Princess Emmaline answered. He looked at her, and shook his head.
'You're up to something, Princess', Milson said.
'How dare you insinuate...'.
'I can sense your nefarious plotting, girl'.
'I am a Princess...'.
'Act like one, girl', Milson said.
Plotting is a crime, sister', Elf Princess Eleanora gasped.
Her sister gasped, and remained silent for a long time.
'Treason!', Milson shouted.
And he waited.
Elf Princess Emmaline shook her head, and sighed.
The call of arms was silent.
'What are you doing now?', David asked Natalie.
'I heard the winter is bad in Scotland', she answered.
'Yes, I know', David said.
'What are we going to do?'.
'We prepare for the winter. It's part of protecting the Library of the Arcane from freezing to death', David said.
'And, you're here to find me', Natalie said.
'I found you', David said.
'And now you're here because you're in love with me'.
'Yes', David said.
She smiled, and kissed him.
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Mara felt it.
The power.
She walked to the Tower of the Arcane.
She hadn't imagined that the darkness had left the Library. The guards were asleep; the snoring had bothered those people who worked there. Mara walked to the book shelves. And grabbed a dusty old book of spells, and read it in private. Afterwards, she saw four elves near the carriage. They had pointed ears, and were speaking in elven tongues.
'We have company', Mara said.
Everyone scrambled to see the new travelers.
They knocked on the mahogany doors, and Mara introduced herself, before they went inside the Library before the snows of winter arrived.
The shadows of the footprints was seen by the Watchers.
Elmorch the Brave looked at the snow.
He hadn't imagined what was going on.
His parents knew what The Outsiders of Markham had said to him last month. He had been warned twice; he didn't need to be warned again. He set up a barbed wire fence, and headed back to the front door, that was icy to touch due to the cold winter snow that had arrived overnight in Scotland.
The Tavern of Thieves, London, England, 2016
The darkness of the snow was bitter.
Ivan Dennis saw a sign that read: The Thieves' Tavern. He opened the Iron Door. He walked to the bar. Other travelers was drinking ale. An elf girl was playing folk songs with her favorite harp; other elves were asleep by the fireplace. Rowston George, a hunter, looked at the stranger.
'You're new, kid', he said.
'Yeah, I am. What kind of tavern is it?', Ivan asked him.
'Thieves, kid. Bad people are here, and death', Rowston answered.
'I'm not a thief. I'm a traveler', Ivan said.
'You need to be tough to live here, kid'.
'And you?'.
'I'm a thief. Thieves are hungry for gold coins. There's the Library of the Arcane nearby; there's a lot of magic in that place', Rowston said. He wore a green hat on his head, with a white feather on the left; he wore a brown tunic, black breeches, and red boots on his feet, and an earring on his left ear. He saw the elf girl was playing a song, and he waved at the elf.
'Two ales, and two steaks with vegetables, and mushroom sauce, Katie'. The elf girl smiled, and headed to the small kitchen. It was half an hour before the meals was served; it was five minutes before Rowston paid her 100 gold coins. 'For a month here, Katie', he said.
'I missed you', Katie said.
'I missed you too. This is Ivan. He's from the Lands Beyond the Vales'.
'Hello'.
'Hello'.
And she smiled, as she served them their dinner.
Kristina, the Elf Princess, Edinburgh, Scotland, 2016
The shadows of the swirling mists in Edinburgh, Scotland, surrounded the Moors. It was similar to the London Library of the Arcane, but it was colder. Kristina, the Elf Princess, had red hair, and was dressed in a white dress that was different from her cousin's clothes; her life became less regal than was necessary. But, to her, she did wore a gold head band, that gave her regal duties in the Scottish Court. She glanced at the Dragon's Fireplace. Olmed the Wise, smiled at her.
'What is the matter, lassie?', he asked her.
'Nothing', she answered.
'It has to be something', she said.
'I had a dream of the Vale of Dreams'.
'What about the Vale?'.
'It's closed off'.
'Why? Who did it?'.
'Quentin. The Dark Wizard'.
'I heard about him'.
'As do I. He is in London, England at the Library of the Arcane'.
'And you know this, how?'.
'Because I see everything in the Mirror of Seers'.
'Are they dangerous?'.
'Yes, and no. There's a lot of Seers in the United Kingdom'.
'And you're concerned about others who they dislike?'.
'Yes, I'm afraid so'.
'Can I help?'.
'Yes, you can go to the Library of the Arcane with me'.
'In London'.
'Yes', Olmed said.
And he cast a magical spell, then they reached the Library.
The Library of the Arcane was full of travelers.
Mara looked at David.
'What's the matter?', she asked him.
'I have a bad feeling something is wrong', he answered.
They didn't have time to talk, as the new travelers arrived at the Library's front door. Several elves were on patrol. They had pointed ears, and wore green colored tunics; they wore brown breeches, and grey boots on their small feet. Nearby were their gold daggers in their right hand, that was stolen by the dead, elven King, Nathaniel, two centuries ago.
Mara watched them, and smiled.
'They've arrived', she said.
'Good, let them in', David said.
Elf rogue Princess Alamora-Edinburgh, Scotland, 2016
The bell tolled again.
The Elf Princess Alamora was on her majestic throne. Her face was lined with thought for her family; her long, black robe kept her warm. She had blonde-white hair that was long; her blue eyes focused on the regal Court. Rogues were at the Court because they plotted all kinds of plots. Some of them were dangerous. The rest of the elves were waiting for the Elf King Christopher who ruled for the last three decades.
Elf Queen Margaret stood by her husband.
'Is there any plans for the day, dear?', she asked him.
'Yes. Our daughter is getting ready for her Coronation Day', the Elf King answered. She nodded.
The Elf Princess was fourteen.
As was the tradition, Coronation Day was an ancient, elven, ceremony that meant she was a young elf woman now, and she had a lot of responsibilities to deal with. Her eyes focused on the the other family members, as she sat down on the throne, and was comfortable with her surroundings.
Quentin Marlowe, the English Warlock of London
The fires burned.
Quentin Marlowe was thinking about the Book of the Arcane. He was dreaming of the Ancients of Time; he was holding the book of spells. Others were whispering; others were eager to see the magical water fountain in Hyde Park. The grey-blue robes fell down to the cobbled ground; robes that became darker through a lot of wear as the years' rolled on...and on.
He looked at the warm fireplace.
Elves had been asleep.
Quentin focused on the warmth of the fire.
He felt the flames touch his hands.
He backed away because he didn't want to be burned.
'It's alright, Quentin', Mara said.
'Yes, it will be better, hopefully'.
And she nodded, and made sure the darkness ended.
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Elf Princess Zara
The sound of voices was heard in the Kingdom. The Scottish Royal Elven Court was in session.
Elf Princess Zara made sure she was attentive in matters that affected her family. Her long, blonde hair fell down the back of her blue and gold gown; her blue eyes sparkled in the cold sunshine, as she waited to speak.
The chamber of Lorenin-Edinburgh, Scotland, 2016
Alana Pryce Forster, a ten year old Scottish girl, walked into the majestic Chamber of Lorenin. She glanced at the dusty fireplace; she warmed her cold hands. The silvery broadswords were cleaned by the blacksmith, Orton Garr. She heard the sound of footsteps; she turned around. And she saw the red and orange colored firedrake; she knew that it breathed fire in the dim woods. Alana saw Masters, the hunter. He smiled at her. 'Are you alright, lassie?', he asked her. 'Yes, Sir. I am', Alana answered. The hunter gripped his green colored hat on his head; the brown breeches were shining. He held onto the golden dagger in his right, black gloved hand. He looked at the fire, and smiled.
'Today is freezing as the night arrives', Alana answered.
'True, lassie. True'.
'What about the Magicians of the Grey Moors?', Alana asked him.
'They're contained?', Masters answered.
'Are they?'.
'Yes', Masters said.
And they ate their meal which consisted of roast pig, vegetables, and mushroom sauce.
Then the darkness came to Scotland, and the moors were covered in fog.
The Scottish Princess Gwendolyn-Edinburgh, Scotland, 2016
The brightly lit hallway was full of regal Princes, Princesses, Queens, and Kings. Princess Gwendolyn, fifteen, glided in her long, white gown. Her hazel eyes focused on the thrones; her wolf, Kingdom, was to her left of her. It was used to growl at strangers; it was used to protect her from harm. The cold, Scottish weather on the moors was covered in thick fog. The girl was watching the voices of her parents who were on their thrones; the Scottish moors created a sense of fear as darkness arrived in the country.
'My Princess, Prince Edward is here', Massie, the servant-girl, fourteen, bowed. 'I want to be alone', the Princess announced. Maisie nodded. It was her right to declare who would be her suitor. Prince Edward was English, and Scotland was at war since 1866. Princess Gwendolyn glanced at the Thrones. She wore a diamond tiara on her crown.
She sat on the throne, and attended the meeting with a lot of grace.
'What is the problem, Graham?', Princess Gwendolyn asked. Her eyes was on the apprentice sorcerer. 'It's what I feared, my Princess. Invasion by the British', he answered. She thought about what he was saying. 'Invasion! It's not fair. The Loch is guarded by the Knights, and guards', she said. Graham thought about what he was about to say.
'The Loch is freezing during the cold winter'.
'I know that, sorcerer'.
'Aye, you know that others are plotting against the King and Queen. You're the next in line after your mother dies'.
'Dies'.
'Aye, dies. From poison, or assassination'.
'But, Mother and Father are protected-'.
'Are they really?', Graham asked her.
'Yes', Princess Gwendolyn answered, gasping.
'Your bloodline is strong, my Princess'.
'I have taken fencing lessons'.
'Good. Then you're strong, and not weak. Others will know that, Gwendolyn'. He knew that the lapse didn't bother her; it was a form of affection for the teenage girl. Graham wanted to make her feel better as the talk of invasion destroyed her lost confidence in several raids last winter.
'There's the Field of Battle, Gwendolyn. We'll fight for an hour. It'll be better to do it. Otherwise, other regal Courts will know you're weak'.
'I'm not weak!', Princess Gwendolyn yelled.
And Graham smiled, and bowed.
Then he let the matter rest, before they went fencing.
The goblin hunter, Foehrer, looked at the mists. He was looking at the bitter, Scottish frosts that gripped his dagger in grime; he picked it up, and sighed. The mud was on his boots; the mud was shaken off, and fell into a deep pool. Foehrer glanced at the Hall of Hunters. The grey building was old. Shards of glass fell near his feet, landing on the mud, creating a dangerous situation that was going to inform the goblins of where he was.
He walked forwards, and opened the Iron Doors.
He went inside, and closed it behind him.
The Scottish female warrior, Elspeth
The red haired girl warrior, Elspeth, was dressed in her battle gown. Her red hair was long; her hazel eyes focused on the Wild Woods. She had a red colored sash that was around her body; she glanced at the Forest of Fife. The growls of wild wolves were heard near the full moon's glow. She glanced at the woods. No one was there; no one was near the cobbled road. Elspeth gripped her long staff that had a lot of engravings written on it; ancient engravings from centuries past. The field of battle was long ago, when her father and mother fought a generation ago. Fife was a cold place in Scotland, and was full of warriors in the Highlands. Nearby was an elf. Its pointed ears became tuned to the whispers in the Loch. 'Don't go near it, lassie'. Elspeth waited, and nodded.
'What is the matter, Romas?', she asked the elf.
'There's a plot to overthrow the Elf Princess, Gwendolyn', Romas answered. She thought for a moment; she shivered. 'Is it true? She is my friend', she said. Romas nodded, and sighed.
'True; very true'.
'Let's go see her'.
'As the lassie wants', Romas said.
He bowed, and they headed to the Royal Elven Court.
Sandrine, the Elvish warrior
The mists deepened.
Sandrine grabbed her favorite sword in her small, right hand. Her eyes twinkled in the early evening sky; her face was etched in a desire that dark elves were near the Forest. She wore a tartan skirt that was part of the clan of her family. Her brown boots was free of mud; her long, red hair was in a ponytail. She was sixteen, and the middle girl in her family.
Her green eyes focused on the hunters.
She waved her right hand, and waited for the patrols to start.
Patricia, the Thief of Rogues
The London Ports were busy.
Patricia, the Thief of Rogues, was fourteen. Her face was etched in concern over the talk of assassins; her eyes flickered in sadness over the loss of her parents. She looked at the daggers from the arched walls. She retrieved one, and held onto it. Some of the thieves had scarred faces; some were eager to drink ales at the Great Bear Tavern. She focused on the cobbled road; she ignored the deep feeling of dread; she turned around, and saw a roguish assassin. She backed away near one of the village houses that was cheaply made. The bear sign was illuminated by the woods.
Patricia glanced at the front entrance.
She waited.
The red hooded assassin sensed movement. Firewood burned near the taverns, and inns.
She breathed harder, and harder.
Then she saw he was away, and headed into the darkness.
Patricia opened the tavern door, and knew she was safe from danger.
Elf Queen Margarethe
The bell's chimed.
Elf Queen Margarethe stood on her majestic throne. The bright green colored banners of the Royal Elven Court was around for three centuries. She wore the religious Cross of the Elven Ways; she had imagined that peace was inevitable; she was thinking about the last time war was declared.
Sadly, she was attuned to the whisperings that dominated the Court itself. At sixteen, she remembered her brother's death at the hands of dark orcs in the Forest of the Wilds, a season ago.
Her eyes were on May, her servant-girl.
'The King is away on business, my Queen', May bowed,
'I'm alone this evening', the Elf Queen sighed.
'Aye, my Queen', May told her.
'Send me the parchment'.
'Aye, my Queen'.
And she knew she was irritated by the rulings of the Elven Royal Court.
The Elf Queen looked at the Dragon's Mirror.
Her eyes focused on the shining water fountain. She wet her hands, and as she did so, she felt better for a long time.
Lana Grey, the rogue
Lana Grey grabbed a silver dagger. She glanced at Meghar, the Weapon's Master. She wore a black coat that was tinged with red; she had long, red hair, blue eyes like a ocean in the Atlantic. She wore grey armor so she wouldn't be killed in intense battle.
The Scottish weather was freezing.
'You need to thrust forward, then back. Keep your enemy at bay', Meghar said. Lana nodded.
She focused on the dagger, and attacked him.
'Good! Don't cut deep. You'll live longer', Meghar said.
Lana, who was thirteen, did as he told her to.
Then she was exhausted, and took a break from fighting.
Mordwewyn, the Sorceress of the Dark
Mordwewyn, the Dark Sorceress, walked towards the Glowing Chamber Tower. The Welsh people were cold; the darkness was part of the Tower's existence. By four o'clock in the mid-afternoon, the mists descended on the barricaded parts of the Tower. Mordweyn glided to the Halls of Fates. Other sorceresses were performing dark magic in secret; other witches, and warlocks, whispered in the Altars of Shadows, where humans feared to go.
She kept a blackened tiara on her crown.
The double doors opened, and Awewyn, the servant-girl, bowed.
'King Olsdhen is dead, Sorceress', she said.
'Dead, but I saw the King last night', Mordwewyn said.
'You're in charge now my Sorceress'.
And she bowed again.
Mordwewyn sighed, and assumed the majestic throne.
Welsh Princess Aewoin
The Garden of Time was small.
Aewoin, the Welsh Princess, stood near the rippling brook. It flowed down the cobbled path; it was full of marble stones. She wore a blue and gold silk gown; she was wearing a silver band over her slim arms. In her right hand was a brown, highly decorated dagger. Her blue eyes focused on the Arches. She walked to the stones; she kept herself eager not to disturb the elves near the woods. Welsh pixies were playing near the brook; the water was splashing in and out. Aewoin washed her hands, and heard the sound of footsteps.
A boy smiled at her.
'The King is dead'.
'Is he?', she asked him.
'Yes, Aewoin. Mother told me', he answered.
'What now?', Aewoin said.
'Now, we're doomed, unless a King is sworn in during the Ceremony of Bithell'. She nodded, and waited.
'When will the Ceremony begin?', Aewoin asked.
'Tomorrow at noon', the boy answered.
'You're Eswin', Aewoin said.
'Yes, that's my name'.
'Good. Now, let's enjoy the brook'.
Eswin nodded, and smiled.
The Swamp of Lost Souls
The Swamp of Lost Souls was found outside the Hunter's Lodge. Dawfron, the Ranger, stood near the edge; the swamp was old, and if he went closer to the edge, noxious gases came forward to cause agony to those who went there. He wore a rag to cover his face; he wore a Ranger's uniform, a black belt, and grey boots that was wearing too much. He vowed to buy some new boots from the Markets. Suddenly he saw an abandoned carriage nearby. He frowned. People were here. He made a note about the carriage, as he saw travelers who were intent on passing through the deep swamplands.
'This place is full of dark orcs', Dawfron said.
'Is it safe?', Ross Frank asked him.
'Yes, if you don't go deeper in the swamp', Dawfron answered.
'Is it dangerous? Why are there dark orcs in the area'.
'They're living in the Forest of Kerein'.
'That's in Wales', Ross said.
'Yes, I was born there, before I lived in London, England'.
'Look, maybe we can go around the swamp. It's longer, but it is safer'. Ross stared at the swamp, he frowned, and told his wife, Edith, and their four daughters what was going on, before Dawfron waved his hand, and they went away from the swamp, and headed to the Inn of Shadows, which was away from the dark orcs' reach.
The Treasures of Magic in the Library of the Arcane
David watched the Iron Doors were open.
'What's in there?', Diane asked him.
'I don't know', David answered.
She sipped her Irish tea.
The darkness of the room was grim.
'It needs to be illuminated to see', Mara said.
'Oh, yes it will be', Cara mentioned.
They waited, then others headed to the door.
'It's stubborn', Mike said.
'I know. It's old, the knocker that is', Maisie said.
'It's from the 1820's', Mike said.
'Yes, I know that. Apparently, there's a lot of Magician's treasure in the Room of Pirates', Cara said.
'Pirates!', Cara scoffed.
'Yes, Mike said.
He went further inside, and held onto a lamp in his right hand. They grabbed the torches that were from Scotland, and headed to the bottom. Once they saw the dark, the small group saw treasure chests. They were padlocked. 'Is there a key?', David asked Mike.
'I have one', Mike answered.
He opened it, and all of them gasped.
They were rich.
Inside were red rubies, green emeralds, and jewels. And golden daggers, small swords, and other weapons for fighting, and for battles. And there was a pirates' map that was from the 16th century.
'Get what you need', Mara said.
And, as they did so, Mike closed the treasure chest.
And locked it.
Then they headed upstairs, and went towards the Library of the Arcane, and looked at their prizes.
Eakandoirwin, the Elven Royal Kingdom in the Forest of Light
The green colored Forest of the Light, was in the Elven Kingdom of Eakandoirwin. Over the last four centuries, Adlannel glanced out of the arched windows high up in the air; the ropes gripped the sides of the willow trees. She glided to the chamber; she was thinking about Marriage Day, which was a ceremony that her mother, Adanessa, went through two hundred years' ago. Now, at one hundred and nine, she was young for an elf girl of regal standing.
Her pointed ears heard the sound of the horn's blaring.
She wore a green gown, and grey boots on her feet.
The chamber doors opened, and she saw her brother, Adan.
'It's time for the lessons with Caythrone', Adan said.
'I don't like the lessons. He takes all day, and I am too tired'.
'It is bothersome. It's the idea that we are prepared for the future', Adan said. Adlannel sighed, as she saw the elderly elvish teacher arrive. He was talking fast, as if getting things done in a rush; he was thinking about the firedrake in the Feast Halls, who was asleep by the warm fireplace. His eyes shifted from the brother, to the sister.
'Is anything wrong?', Caythrone asked them.
'Yes, we're sleepy', Adan complained, by way of an answer.
'You're not sleeping well. You have to deal with the education. I'm afraid you need to change things Adan'.
'Change, but I hate lessons'.
'You hate lessons; you love power'.
'Is that wrong?', Adan asked the teacher.
'Power can be corrupted by those who seek it', Caythrone answered.
'I shall be King one day', Adan said.
'And I will be Queen', Adlannel said.
'No, you both won't be. You're too young', Caythrone said.
'And the point is we can't rule because we're brother and sister', Adan said.
'That is the way it is', Caythrone said.
And the elves sighed.
Adlannel watched the windows.
'Marriage Day is for the one hundred and fifteenth year'.
'I know', Adan said.
'So, what do we do?', Adlannel asked her brother.
'We'll marry who we want to marry, sister', Adan answered.
And she nodded.
Adlannel headed down the stone steps. When she reached the bottom, she saw four elven guards nearby. They bowed in front of her. She waved them away, and they attended to their own posts. She reached the Arches of Crawforth, which was the entrance to the elven gardens. She looked at the water fountain that was full of gnomes, and other magical creatures. Adlannel waited to deal with the security of the elven Kingdom.
Suddenly, she saw five dark elves armed with strange looking daggers in their gloved hands. They had used their powers to get through the guards' defence. She backed away in fright; she saw her brother was smiling. No! Adan! She thought about her love for him, but the dark orcs didn't care. They raised their daggers, and the elf boy fell downward, and died.
Adlannel touched the water fountain, and she vanished from their grasp. And, as the Elven Kingdom fell, she cried until she was transported to the Library of the Arcane in London, England.
Olivia Redwook, The Junior Librarian at the Library of the Arcane
There was a spark of magic.
Adlannel saw a young girl who wore a red and green gown.
Her grey boots were small.
'Who are you? And what is this place?', Adlannel asked.
'Olivia Redwood. Junior Librarian of the Arcane', she answered.
'I was escaping from dark orcs in my Kingdom. I'm Adlannel'.
'Dark orcs'.
'Yes, my Kingdom is ruined'.
'Please, follow me'.
Adlannel did as she was told, and followed the human girl towards the front entrance. Elves were guarding the entrance. When they saw the elf regal girl, they bowed.
'The young lady is here', Alfred said.
'Told you, Samuel', Orton said.
And he smiled, as the elf girl entered the magical Library.
David saw the Librarian.
'We haven't seen you two before'.
'This is Adlannel, the Elf Princess. I'm Olivia Redwood'.
'Please to meet you. I'm David Carter. This is Mara, Cara, Mike. Others will tell you their names'.
'I'm the Junior Librarian', Olivia said.
And everyone gasped when Adlannel mentioned the attack of dark orcs.
A Brownie, a magical creature from Scotland
Alana Pryce Forster glanced at the Brownie. The creature had pointed ears, and wore purple robes, ripped brown breeches, and red boots on its feet. It swept a large multi-colored broom with its left hand; it was too heavy to do the chore. 'I hate this job', it sighed.
Alana watched the creature with fascination.
'May I help?', she asked.
'Yes, girl. That will be nice. I'm Admorh'.
'Alana Pryce Forster', she smiled.
'The daughter of the Warlocks'.
'Aye, that is true', Alana said.
'I'm a servant of the Lord Nathaniel'.
'Is he here?', Alana asked it.
'Yes, sometimes; but not all of the time', Admorh answered.
'Maybe you need a smaller broom', Alana said.
'This is the Lord's broom. The other one is broken'.
'I'm sorry. Let me see. Let's go shopping for a new one'.
'Oh, I don't want to be bothered...'.
'Not at all', Alana smiled.
And she showed it a small bag of coins.
Then they left to go to the markets in Edinburgh.
Princess Irina
The Swamp of Lost Souls was full of travelers.
Princess Irina glanced at the group of regal Kings, and Queens, in Scotland. She glanced at the swamp. Noxious fumes emanated from the deep side of the swamp, that was known to cause people to gag. Some died over time. 'Get away from the foul gas, my Princess'.
'Who are you?', she asked.
'I'm Dawfron, the Ranger. Follow me to the Hut, where I live. The orcs like to attack at night. And they're nasty creatures', he answered.
She gasped.
'My carriage was bogged down. I wanted to go to Fife'.
'Fife. That's five miles north of here', Dawfron said.
'Will I be safe?', Princess Irina asked.
'Yes, with me. Over the last couple of hunting seasons, dark orcs, trolls, and goblins, are attacking carriages because they are evil', Dawfron answered. Princess Irina nodded.
She was black, and one of the few Scottish young women of color. Her tiara was gold; her robe was white and blue. The swamp was the most terrible place for herself; the King was dead, and so was his wife. Princess Irina wasn't going to be safe.
They arrived at the front entrance to the hut.
It was full of branches, and leaves.
And mud for safety against enemies.
The Princess relaxed.
'The path goes north, south, east, and west', Dawfron said.
Then the grey horn blared, and the hunters arrived for dinner.
Isolde, the Welsh witch
The girl witch, Isolde, wore a purple robe. She glanced at the Fires of Time; she was seeing the Globe of Naren, which was full of dark magic. The flames revolved around her robes, shining brightly in the Chamber of Raemorth. She looked at the Grandfather clock that chimed six times. Isolde glided towards the majestic study; books were on the shelves. Some of them was dusty; some were new. She focused on the Arched Windows, that was covered by spiders. The darkness of the chamber was cold; the chamber was dim. Isolde warmed the chamber with firewood. The huge room was warm now, as she saw shadows fill the room. Isolde closed her green eyes; her face was etched in concern. The shadows filled the beds that was rotting away from age.
She glanced at the door.
She sighed, and went to the markets to pay for groceries, and food.
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Elf Princess Aeamora
The wild winds blew from the south.
Elf Princess Aeamora was on the majestic throne. She glanced at the Royal Elven Court; she saw Rouman, the Magician, was holding the ancient elven staff in his right hand. His eyes flickered in her direction. Her pointed ears was long; her green and yellow robes was sparkling, as she wore a white and red gown that illuminated the darkness.
Her red boots were comfortable to wear.
'What news do you bring?', the Elf Princess asked the old magician.
'The dark orcs follow the path to Eakandoiwin. The Princess Adlannel is gone, presumedly she's at the Library of the Arcane in London, England', Rouman answered.
She nodded.
'We have to go there', Elf Princess Aeamora said.
The magician bowed, and cast a magic spell.
Within a matter of seconds, they disappeared into the ether.
And they headed to the magical Library.
Caroline, the rogue's servant
Caroline wiped away the blood from her corset. She had been seeing the dead body of her brother on the bed in the old chamber. She had long, brown hair, blue eyes, and petite. The tunic was rotting away from age; the darkness of the room was cold; the heat wasn't in the chamber. She held the axe in her left hand, and chopped wood; she grabbed pieces into the fireplace. Once the chamber was hot, she warmed her hands. The blue blouse was free from grime. She buried her brother's body in the woods, making sure the funeral was quick, and less painful to deal with the tragedy; she had buried her parents last week when they died from the plague. She watched the darkness, and waited for the light to illuminate the chamber. Lamps were in the arched walls. She waited, and knew she had to be strong, not weak. At twelve, she was still a girl; she had cried enough tears to know what was going on in London. Caroline knew how to fight her own battles; her brother, Eddie, was fourteen. The skies was black from thick, threatening, clouds. She looked at the cobbled road; she saw carriages that were abandoned. She frowned. For awhile, she wanted to feel safe, otherwise it was hopeless to stay in her home. She looked at the woods that was muddy.
And she heard the sound of voices.
Orc voices.
Caroline shivered, and ran back to the hut where she was safe from danger.
Lady Emalora, Sorceress of the Darkness
The chiming was done.
Lady Emalora, the Sorceress of the Darkness, grabbed the white skull in her right hand; the purple sash was full of traditional signs from a long time ago. Her face illuminated the small chamber, where she made her spells in the silence.
Dealia, the Elf Librarian Manager
London, England, 2016
The elf Librarian, Dealia, was in the middle of the Library of the Arcane. She had brown hair, blue eyes, and pointy ears. She wore a brown tunic with green arms; she was wearing red boots on her small feet. Nearby was a collection of old, and rare, books of magic.
'Are you sure everything fits in the room?', Olivia Redwood asked her.
'Yes, I'll cast a tidy spell that'll do the job faster', Dealia answered.
Olivia smiled, and the spell was cast.
After a burst of colors, the books were in the air, and were in their right place. Then they were happy as the morning sun arrived in the city of London.
The Hooded Lady -Fife, Scotland, 2016
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The Hooded Lady was on her white horse, Thurl. It had been in the cold, wintry town of Fife in Scotland; the cold was causing her to shiver. She had been riding for half a day, and she was tired. She headed to Tavern of Heroes. The guards were at the front entrance, as she jumped off onto the ground; she reached the cobbled road. She opened the door, and went inside.
The sound of voices hovered in the spacious tavern, which was stopped when the Hooded Lady took her grey colored hood off; she walked to the warm fireplace. And when she saw her friends were eating haggis, and consuming ale, she waved at them with her left hand, and ordered traditional Scottish food, as the harp player, a girl of nine, played folk songs.
The Princess of Rogues, Rymoch, was fifteen. She left the Great Bear Tavern, and waited for Patricia. The girl was sipping her Irish wizard's tea. The travelers had been drunk; the smell of ale was in the cold, dark, chambers that was the usual price they paid for going into the tavern. She waited for the girl, as he ordered wizard's ale. It was a freezing night in London; it was several more minutes before she saw her. 'Thank you for meeting me, Patricia', Rymoch said.
'I was concerned about you', she said.
'The dark goblins are near the woods'.
'Will you take care of me?', Patricia asked her.
'Yes', Rymoch answered.
And she smiled.
Leonatha, the Irish Witch
The cold night was full of darkness.
Leonatha looked the the Forest of Dreams. She glided towards the oak trees. Her black gown was new, it wasn't full of grime, nor tattered. She focused on the swirling mists that descended on the woods that was leafy. She saw the black crows that fed on carrion; she watched the frenzy of food that the amimals were feeding on. She warmed her cold hands. The darkness was causing her to think about the feast in her Tower.
She walked up the cobbled path that led to the chambers. She closed the door before, and went to the small room. Bright lights illuminated the room; candles burned in the wall sconces that were centuries old. Her long, black hair fell down her head; her eyes were hazel colored, as she saw the Mirror of Myreer, which was three centuries' old.
She ate her meal in silence, then she read a book, before she went to bed.
Almorgha, the Sorceress of Wales
The thin hallway led to the Tower of Magic. The orc guards stood near with their detailed runes on their weapons; their warty noses smelled. For a long period of time, orcs were small to large, brutish creatures with clubs, and sharp daggers; for centuries, their way forward was to invade human lands, dominating everything, until human Kings, and Queens, ordered them dead as both of them sat on their majestic thrones.
Almorgha, the Sorceress of Wales, glanced at the swirling mirror. She glanced at the Library of the Arcane; she was eager to meet the Warlock, Quentin Marlowe. The other Warlock was dead, killed by Mara, the religious Seer, who had a lot of power in her Church. But she wasn't at the Temple of Sighs. It was unexpected to deal with her now; it was dangerous because Mara killed with her faith. Faith was more powerful than her spells.
Nonetheless, she was the enemy.
The Sorceress ate her meal, and yawned.
She was asleep faster than she could dream.
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Dasmonra, the Witch Librarian of the Arcane
The Halls of Time opened.
The Library of the Arcane was full of wizards, witches, and magical folk. Olivia Redwook was with David, Cara, Mara, Mike, and Jim. The boy was back from reading more books that were old and dusty. 'We have to be careful of dark orcs, and dark elves, and Dark Sorceresses. There's one name we have to deal with. Almorgha, the Welsh Sorceress, and Mordwewyn, the Sorceress of the Dark, in Wales. If we're not careful, they'll come here to cause mayhem', he said.
'We have to be careful', David said.
And he talked to his friends about the protection of the Library of the Arcane.
Shadows drifted across the Forests of Daxoporigh. The elf, Soreg, stood near the weeping child, who was afraid of death. It waited for the bell's chimes; it severed the branches with its dagger. The cries deepened; cries of pain. Soreg was eager to tell The Masters of the Woods, but they were gone; they seemed unconcerned about the dark elves, nor the dark orcs. The shadows dimmed, fracturing the nerves they felt over time itself.
'It is the darkness, child' Soreg said.
And the girl nodded, and cried until the elf took her home.
The Grimoire of Linden Croome, the Dark Sorcerer of Belfast, Ireland, 2016
Linden Croome watched the book in his old Belfast study.
He had reached the books that was on the mahogany chamber. He glanced at the rats. They scurried about, nipping at bread crumbs. The Irish people were not going near the ancient Tower, for fear of death by unseen magic. Superstition and dark stories that concerned the Dark Sorcerer filled the minds of the local villagers. The 13th century old Grimoire was battered, tattered, and full of curses. Some religious scholars went to the Tower to confront him. But, as they reached the Iron Gates, they all died there and then, in a whorl of arcane magic that was a barrier to the Tower itself.
In short, he gripped the Grimoire in his right hand, and saw a picture of Edward Poole, the Belfast alchemist, from the 14th century.
The Secret Wizard's Chamber Room inside the Library of the Arcane
Temple watched the room disappear.
She glanced at the Black Eyed Witch's picture and shuddered. 'Oh, we have visitors', she uttered. The group gasped at her. 'Where'd you go?', David asked her. 'There! See!', she said. He watched the door open; he didn't think he was imagining things; the others stared at the framed pictures on the creamy walls; a single lamp was to the far right; to the left, (and more over, to the middle), was all kinds of items that was from all over the United Kingdom; another lamp that was to the left sat on a small, mahogany table, a book from an unknown wizard was on it. Temple smiled at the religious seer.
'Mara', she said.
'You know of me?', she asked.
'I know of the Church of Sighs', Temple answered.
'Ah, I see'.
'Do you?'.
'Yes; yes!'.
'I have faith, do you?'.
'No. But I shall tell you. I'm a Believer', Temple said.
'You are one of them?'.
'Yes, a devout Believer'.
'Oh, I see...'.
Temple moved towards Mara.
'You killed a Warlock. Nathaniel'.
'One of them'.
'Yes, Nathaniel. He was my Uncle'.
'I didn't know'.
'How could you know. I see everything'.
'I do, too', Mara said.
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'And the point is, deep down, you're not my kind', Temple said.
'Your kind is death'.
Temple waited.
'I am a Devouter of the Arcane', she said.
'I am a Believer', Mara said, a little too enthusiastically.
'Death is death; power is power; spells is spells', Temple said.
'Look inside the room', Mara said.
Temple waited.
'I have seen everything'.
And she stared at the globe she was holding.
'See this Mara of the Sighs...'.
And Mara did.
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The globe swirled and swirled.
Then bright colors erupted.
And it stopped swirling, and it was dark.
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'Come inside the room', Mara said.
'Let's all go inside', Temple said.
And they did as she told them to do.
As the group saw the room, Mara saw Temple cast a spell, and held onto the Book of Arcane Spells in her small, right hand.
And the door closed behind them.
The Room of Ancient Things
Mara looked at Temple.
'I don't think you'd like to tell me about other rooms?', she asked.
'The Room of Ancient Things. There's a skeleton key', Temple answered. She smiled. David looked at the mahogany door. 'Turn the key like so...'. Temple did as she was told; she opened the door, and there was a musty odor that caused them to gag. Jim backed away, as he didn't like the room until he noticed an old 1830's-era grey chair with gold sides. He walked towards it, and sat down to rest his feet. 'My Grandparents collect antiques', he said. 'Oh, where're they?', Temple asked him. 'Melbourne, Australia', Jim answered. She smiled. 'I love Australia. It's an Island, you know', Temple said. He smiled. 'They're in a retirement house', Jim said. He had stopped sitting on the chair. Dust came from the chair. He grabbed a rag that was on the bottom, and cleaned it. Once it was over, he saw Cara, Mike, and Olivia. They gasped in surprise; they hadn't known about the Room. It was locked. Olivia frowned; the others didn't frown. 'I thought I knew all of the room', she sighed. Mike waited, and then she saw the tattered briefcase. And the guitar. 'What's this?', she asked.
'A guitar. Humans play music on it', Mike answered.
'How strange'.
Glasses were on the table near the chair.
Jim put them on.
'No. It's a girl's glasses'.
'Let me put it on', Cara said.
'Go ahead'.
And, as she did so, she saw bright colors.
'Magic glasses', Mara gasped.
Cara saw everything was illuminated.
She noticed a globe in the room. It was shining. She noticed a statue of a Greek God; she saw scrolls from long ago. She grabbed the scrolls. As a history student, she was glad to deal with the idea that the scrolls would serve as a lesson for all of them. Cara waited, and heard her friends were gasping with wonder as they picked and chose items of magic that interested in them in The Room of Ancient Things.
Byriar, the Elf Wood Hunter
Byriar glanced at the wood forest's trees.
He saw the muddy footprints near the Path of Enlightenment. He stopped, and saw the girl elf.
'Who are you?', he asked her.
'Caroline', she answered.
'Why are you in the woods?'.
'I was away from the dark orcs', she told him.
He thought, and nodded.
'The woods, and the forests, are dangerous', Byriar said.
'How do you know that?'.
'The dark orcs follow the Dark Wizards of Tume'.
'I'm afraid of them', Caroline said.
'You won't be with me around', Byriar said.
'Good, let's head towards the woods'.
And he smiled.
The shadows hovered above the woods.
Darkness came, and the night arrived in London, England.
Wales Queen Mordrea
Elf Queen Margarethe looked at the Wales Queen Mordrea. The young women were eager to please; the women were near the Garden of Magic. 'It's about power', the Elf Queen said. 'Everyone is going to the Royal Court soon', the Wales Queen said. They held onto the leaves with their left hands; they were about to speak more in more private, when the carriage was near the cobbled path. Their tiaras glowed on their crowns, as their gowns were colorful.
'My Queens, it's time for Court to be in session'.
They walked near Greig, the Master Hunter.
'We will be there soon, Greig', the Elf Queen Margarethe said.
And Grieg bowed, as they glided out of the garden, and arrived at the Court in time. It was early in the morning of Friday morning.
The Swamp of Lost Souls
The Forest of Kerein was vast.
Dawfron waited for Ross.
He sipped some ale, as he looked at the frogs in the swamp. Giant frogs. Some of the lizards had been huge; some had sharp teeth. Dawfron looked at the edges that was full of birch trees; edges that was full of weeds. The grim forest was a place for fights that was used by Knights against their enemies. Ross saw a girl nearby. 'This is Princess Irina', he told him.
'The swamp is terrible', she said.
'Once we get through the swamp, we can get to the Library of the Arcane, where we can get shelter', Dawfron said.
'I haven't heard about that', Princess Irina sighed.
'We shall get there soon by nightfall', Dawfron said.
And they headed across the cobbled path. Nearby was a water fountain. The three of them saw bright colors, as they were transported to the old Library of magic.
The Thieves Tavern Larder Room
Ivan Dennis sat on the grey chair. His eyes focused on Rowson. The thief looked at the elf girl; the larder door was open. 'Elesa. This is Ivan'. 'Hello. How are you?', Elesa asked her.
'I'm good. Do you have some wizard's tea?', Ivan answered.
'Yes, it's freshly made in the morning', Elesa said.
'Thank you', Ivan said.
And he walked to the fireplace, and warmed his hands.
Iona, the sister of Isolde
Iona, the Witch of the Dark, carried the cauldron into the larder. The smell was sending her sister, Isolde, in a frenzy. She wore a black gown, and black boots on her feet. The witches were eager to celebrate the Celtic ceremonies that came from Ireland, and Wales. The ceremony was long, and went to their home. The ravens were black, and had nasty beaks. The birch trees were cold; the trees focused on the witches, as the brown leaves swirled and swirled around their small feet. Iona looked at the sparse kitchen.
'Feast Night is ready', Iona said.
'That's good. The meat and vegetables are cooked', Isolde said.
And they enjoyed the meal, as it started to rain.
Dasnorth,. the Spy Master of London, England, 2016
The old spy Master, Dasnorth, looked at the Locked Rooms of Yore. The lamps illuminated the dripping wet mahogany tables; the flames illuminated his face that had a long, white, beard. He had been in the Tower for seventy years; he had seen the ancient scrolls that were written by wizards two centuries ago. Voices came and went in the ethereal abyss; an abyss that created a lot of stories, and folklore, that spread all over the Tower itself. In short, the stories were passed down from generation to generation to generation. Dasnorth pondered the stories, and tapped his right hand at the scrolls.
The door of the Reaching opened.
'Enter!', Dasnorth said.
A small boy, Olseden, nine, bowed.
'There's a Thieves Tavern nearby', he said.
'And'.
'And, I came forward to see if I could go. But trolls forbade me from going. They had daggers in a strange language on the weapons. I ran to you to tell you-'. Dasnorth bellowed.
'Death is always in London, boy. Death is death. You can't be a true spy without seeing them, and fighting a battle to the end'.
'But, I saw them-'.
The old spy nodded.
'It's time to sleep, Olseden'.
'I thought so. I'll sleep in the Chamber of the Spies'.
He smiled, grabbed a dagger, and slept soundly, but not before they ate roast pig, with vegetables, and mushroom sauce.
Celena, the Princess of Rogues
Celena, the Princess of Rogues, glided towards the Halls of Darkness. She walked towards the shipping ports. Sailors were yelling out orders; more sailors were on land, sipping wizard's tea in the taverns, and inns. She saw four hob-goblin guards stood at attention. 'May I pass?', she asked. 'Password', one of the hob-goblins said. 'Tassels', Celena answered.
'Go ahead', the hob-goblin said.
She opened the magical door, and went inside.
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The raucous voices hadn't dimmed.
Celena focused on the bars that was full of pirates, elves, and dwarves. There wasn't any orcs; orcs were the enemy. She saw Kit, the bald owner. 'How are you?', he asked her.
'Fine, times have changed', Celene answered.
'Yes, I'm afraid Quentin Marlowe is here'.
'The Dark Wizard'.
'Yes'.
'The chamber is over there'.
'Good. But I'm hungry'.
'Take a seat. If you need a room for the evening, let me know'.
'Okay, Kit', Celena said.
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Celena watched the elf girl.
'What do you like?', it asked her.
'Irish stew, and ale, please', Celena answered.
'Thirty gold coins', the elf girl said.
She gave her fifty gold coins for the meal, drink, and room for the night. Afterwards, Celena saw other travelers enjoying their meals, as a dwarf girl played her harp. The sounds of music was played in the tavern.
And the night was a happy time for them all.
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It was a cold evening in London.
Shadows illuminated the cobbled paths that came towards the ports. As the ships, and boats, were moored in the Marina, the rain poured downward heavily, causing the city to be wet by Midnight.
Diane, from the Library of the Arcane
Diane looked at the group of travelers. She glanced at the Clock of Wizards; she was thinking about the new gown she was wearing. Her face illuminated in the sun, as it came downward in the cold sign that read: Library of the Arcane; she focused on the religious girl, Mara, who had mysterious powers. David looked at the other doors, and saw her.
'You were away, Diane', David said.
'I had to deal with Mother, and Father', she said.
'Oh, I see'.
'I had to be away. Now, I'm back', Diane said.
And she hugged him.
Francesca, the High Elf Witch
The man stood near Friar's Church. He prayed to God, as he saw Mara. 'Can I help you, Sir?', she asked. He nodded. 'The Father said that prayers are cancelled', he answered. She frowned. 'We're open, Sir', she said. He smoked a pipe; the smoke wafted across the Arches of Time. He looked around. 'Today is God's Day, my Lady; God is watching us all', he said. 'Who are you? I'm Mara'. He watched the black ravens in the easterly sky; he sighed. 'Malcolm Sweeney'. She nodded. Father Maloney didn't force those away from the Church; no one was forced away. It wasn't part of the Christian faith to do that.
'Please, come inside the Library of the Arcane', she said.
The man, Malcolm, nodded.
'Thank you, Mara', Malcolm said.
And he smiled.
The cold elven forest of Eaomoria was full of elves.
The Snow Elven Queen of the Light, Esmedoria
The Royal Elven Court was in uproar.
The Queen of Garnoloaia stood on her throne. The darkness had left the Elven Kingdom of Snows; snow was felling in the bitter winters, which was long, and harsh. 'Pray tell what is wrong with you, sister?', Elf Princess Eleanora asked. The other Elf Princess, Emmaline, who an air of arrogance about her. She glanced at her sister. 'Well, I am superior to others in the Royal Elven Kingdom', she uttered. Elf Princess Eleanora sighed.
'You will not marry a regal Prince with a bad attitude, sister'.
'How do you know?', Elf Princess Emmaline asked.
'Because, mother knew not to marry without problems in the marriage', Elf Princess Eleanora answered.
And she heard the elven horn's song, and the meeting was about to begin.
Elf Princess Zara
The bitter cold swept through Fife in Scotland. The fatal lake in the Loch, was full of mysterious creatures that were feeding on the fish. Elf Princess Zara looked at the edge of the Loch; she waited for the darkness to leave the swirling mists that consumed the forests. She walked to the Loch, and decided to cook for her meal tonight; fishing was a favorite past time for Scottish people of regal standing. She waited for the hunters to return, before the night came.
Diane, in the Library of the Arcane
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Diane walked to the other room.
As she did so, she heard the sound of footsteps disappear. She watched the books go out of the shelves; she hurriedly came forward as she attempted to push them into the holes in them. She was frustrated, as if the books were hexed by a magic spell; she was thinking about the other wizards, witches, and warlocks. She knew what it meant to lose patience with the books in her possession. She sighed, and knew what she needed to do.
She closed her eyes, and cast a spell.
Within seconds, she headed out of the magical Library, and told everyone what happened.
Shadows formed in on the London moors.
The grimness of the orc's attacks sparked talk of an invasion. Mara waited, as she knew what was going on in her mind; her eyes focused on the Temple of Sighs. The place was part of the religious power she heard over time, since she was six. Now she was older, and wiser. The Warlock, Nathaniel, was dead because she had The Power of Faith; she had a lot of faith because God and Jesus Christ's power was within her. The sirens song had disappeared; Mara looked at the statue of God Himself; she prayed, and made the Sign of the Cross. The temple was full of worshippers, she smiled at them, and headed to the pews. Father Gorman, a young Priest of twenty-nine, walked to the Altar. He smiled. 'Today is God's day. The Day we all repent all sins'. Mara waited. She had imagined what was going on during the 5:00 PM Mass; she was thinking about her faith. Once the Mass ended, she walked away, and left through the double Iron Doors. She headed to the water fountain. She touched it, and she was transported to the Library of the Arcane.
The elf guard was on patrol.
He was thinking about the Fyrer Wars. He sighed. Then he waited. The roars of the other dark elves with their daggers filled him with dismay. The waiting took ages. It didn't need any trouble. It waited until the dark arrived. It walked to the edge of the woods; it was silent.
The sound of footsteps came towards it.
'Halt!', Righmar, the Dark Elf Prince shouted. It was more of an order. The elf guard saluted.
'What is the news, my Prince?', the elf guard asked.
'Traitors to the Kingdom', the Elf Prince answered.
'Not in Eakandoirwin'.
'I'm afraid so. Adlannel is missing'.
'Yes, I'm afraid so. The rumor is she's at the Library of the Arcane'.
'What is this Library you speak of?', the Elf Prince, Ryhmar, asked.
'It is owned by Nathaniel, a Warlock. He is dead now'.
'Dead'.
'Yes, dead. A girl of faith killed him'.
'What is her name?', Ryhmar, the Elf Prince, asked him.
'Mara'.
'I don't know of her'.
'She was at the Temple of Sighs. She attended Mass. Then she left'.
'Take me to see her'.
'Yes, my Prince. Just touch the water fountain'.
And, as they did so, they disappeared into the New World.
Mara watched the flames roar.
She hadn't imagined the problems of the past. It was something the was inherently devoid of thought; it was, and always was, something that prayed on her mind, as the darkness lifted, and she was part of the Light of Stones.
The cold, grim morning became a sense of despair for the witches, wizards, and warlocks, at the Library of the Arcane; the shadows dimmed, allowing those who went there to deal with the dark elves' threat, or the dark orcs invasion in the Forest of Darkness. They wore red hats on their heads, and glided in their majestic robes. The light shone in the house nearby, that was free from harm because of the ancient spells that protected it from evil wizards.
It was a warm morning.
David thought about his father.
He remembered to speak to him.
It was a long time since he saw his house.
Tomas shifted in the Chair of Brierdon. He looked at the Grandfather clock. The chimes were loud; the shivering of the rain caused him to deal with the Masters parchment. He heard the creaking of the door, and he looked at the servant girl; he looked at her, and smiled. 'Anna', he said. The elf girl nodded. 'I have some wizard's tea, Tomas', she said.
'Thank you, Anna'.
'Is everything alright?', Anna asked him.
'Yes, can you eat with me later on', Tomas said.
'Yes', Anna answered.
And she smiled, as she attended to other duties.
The window was open.
Thorpe Mayfield looked at the framed picture of his dead wife, Ellen. He glanced at the woman who he married a year ago. The children, Tod, ten, and Amy, nine, were in their chamber room playing. They had already did their school work; they had dreamed of going to go to the Library of the Arcane. Thorpe opened the door. And peered inside the room.
'Good afternoon, children. Are you well?', he asked.
'Yes, Father', Tod answered.
'Yes, Father', Amy said.
'Dinner is soon', Thorpe said.
'We know', Tod smiled.
They stopped, and headed out of the play room.
The Hooded Assassins of Fife, Scotland, 2016
Time stood still in Hall of Mirrors.
Ro'mach Kreik, the Assassin, stood near the gravelly arches. The stones were medieval in age; stones that were from the city of Fife. In the brutal winter months, the snows ravaged the villages. He watched the red colored guards with the picture of a sundial with runes etched on the fabric. Ro'mach gazed at the sun. It glowed in the loch, as memories of a monster there was on his mind. He grabbed the dagger in his right hand; he ignored the deep scars on the weapon. He walked to the blacksmith, Loren Misger. 'I'd like a new dagger, Loren. This dagger is not sharp'. The middle-aged blacksmith nodded. 'One hundred gold coins', he said. Ro'mach grabbed a silver bag.
And paid him.
Then he headed to the market, where he brought eggs, fish, bread, celery, red capsicums, onions, rice, beans, rosemary, and thyme. Once he paid thirty gold coins, he went back to the blacksmith, Ro'mach grabbed the new dagger, and placed it in another bag, then he walked home to his wife and family.
Mara watched the Tower.
She prayed in the Church.
The statue of Jesus Christ was in the middle of the spacious room.
'Isn't it good to be here?', David asked her.
'Yes, I have faith', Mara answered.
'I'm not a Catholic', David said.
'I believed in the Temple of Sighs', Mara said.
'Did you believe then?'.
'Yes, I was going to be a Nun. But fate dealt me a different path'.
'To Enlightenment'.
'Yes', Mara said.
And she grabbed The Goblet of Life, and drank the Holy Water to cleanse her soul from all sins.
The swirling mists of time shifted in the darkness. When Alexandra Tholl stood near the Wall of Chaos, she saw the Bishop of Thorins reading the parchment. His blue eyes seared into her mind, as if by some religious power that chilled her blood. Maybe it was faith that coursed through his body; maybe it was something else that prayed on her soul. She watched the Bishop gather his thoughts. She breathed in and out; she breathed until she lost focus. Her eyes flickered in the dark, as she flicked on the bright light. Others came and went, as Father Halloran stood on the podium. 'Today is the day in which God, and Jesus Christ speaks to all believers; God's will for all who come here today, shall repent their sins, and will pray for forgiveness. Let those who sin suffer God's wrath...'.
Frederick Syles stood by the Arched Doors. He had waited a long time before rogues invaded the Room of Enlightenment. The stories of religious feelings dawned on him, as if God Himself had shone His Will on him. Yet, as he focused on the statues. A girl appeared to pray. She had long, red hair, brown eyes, and was petite. She watched Frederick with disinterest; she was praying in silence. Her eyes looked at the stranger; her faith was absolute.
'I can come back later', Frederick said.
'God is with me', the girl said.
He nodded, and left her alone.
Mark Harris walked to the water fountain. It was a strange day, and his eyes was clear. He reached the silvery colored tap; he drank from the cool water. As he touched it with his left hand, bright colors illuminated Hyde Park. He couldn't believe what was happening, as he disappeared from the Park itself. He screamed. But, as his mind cleared, he reached the Library of the Arcane.
Mark saw four elf guards asleep at their post.
He tapped on the front door.
Mike appeared.
'Please come inside'.
And Mark nodded, as the door closed behind him.
The magical door entrance to The Library of the Arcane-London, England, 2016
Cara looked at the green colored capsicums. She picked it up, and watched the shadows recede; she walked to the kitchen. The cook, Feg, the elf, stood watch. It looked at the girl; it had pointy ears. 'What is a girl doing here?', it asked. 'I'm hungry', Cara said. Feg thought for a second. It shifted; it was near the Arches that led to the old, majestic gardens. Feg didn't need her to tell it what it wanted; Feg became obnoxious in its behavior. Cara bypassed the elf. She didn't need to be berated; she didn't need to create a fuss. Otherwise, she would think it was it had ill intentions, and take her to the Elven Council. She hadn't imagined that she could go there; she wasn't an elf. She was a witch, and human. Feg looked at the herbs, and cooked fish in a black pan, sprinkling the herbs into the pan. The aroma filled the kitchen. Cara waited to be fed, as she attended to other duties.
The Northern Ireland Queen Saoirse
The bell rang.
Colm McGrieve looked at the doors that led to the Royal Irish Court. He had waited patiently before all of the regal nobles arrived. He glanced at the page. 'Let me inside', he said.
The page nodded, tapped the ochre cane, and the doors opened.
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Colm gripped his light green cloak to keep him warm. His eyes flickered on the regal people of the Higher Realms of Irish society. King Lionel, and Queen Saorise, stood on their majestic thrones with their son, Prince Eamon, and Princess Eloise. They all were patriotic Irish men, and Irish women; they were wearing crowns on their heads; they wore colorful gowns, and attire that fit their needs. The court magician, Cenel, grabbed his long, grey beard with his old hands; he had seen a lot of power plays in Northern Ireland over the centuries; he was old as time itself. But he knew what would break the Peace Treaty against the English King Frederick. He stood near the thrones, as if something irked him. His face was etched in worry. Feigning interest in the Kingdom's affairs, from a magical authority, he had entered the idea of leaving in utter despair. But, to him, leaving was madness. Cenel would retire soon. And he neeed someone to take his place in the Tower of Calaigh. Upon the throne was the young, fifteen year old Prince. 'Pray tell, what are you bothered so, Cenel?', Prince Eamon asked the magician. 'Aye, I am my Prince. But I am older, and near retirement; I am seeking an apprentice magician soon', Cenel answered. 'How about a ceremony?', Princess Eloise said. Cenel thought for a moment. She waited. 'Noon day tomorrow', she said.
And he nodded, and smiled.
***
'Get up!', Olsen said.
Rory looked at the harsh looking hunter.
'I was late for the Ceremony', he said.
'You are always late', Olsen stated.
'Mother was sick'.
'How is she?', Olsen asked.
'Dying. One day to go', Rory answered.
'I'm sorry'.
'Father is away in Edinburgh, Scotland'.
'He should be here'.
'I don't know, nor do I care', Rory admitted.
Then the noon day bell rang, and he ran outside into the warm sun.
The girl, Princess Eolin, stood near the rocks. She seemed to shiver from the cold; she couldn't see the ceremony. Her eyes were emerald green; her face became etched in nervousness, as she was preparing for Marriage Day when she was fifteen. That was a decade to go; that was something that her mother, Queen Eolmorea, would say; that was fuelled her mind of meeting someone who loved her. But that was in the future. A boy of eight threw a rock at the the thrones. One of the guards caught him. 'Go away, Frank'.
'But, I am part of the ceremony, Iden'.
The guard thought for a moment.
'Fine, but no funny business'.
'Yes, Iden'.
The guard saluted to Megharty, the Knight-Guard Head, seemed unconcerned about the rock throwing; Iden looked at the Court. Frank saw the Princess. 'Good morning, I'm Frank', he bowed. 'Princess Eolin', she laughed. He waited for her to laugh, when she did, the ceremony begun.
'Today is the Day of the Blessings. Today boys will have work for them today; girls will be of service too. Those who are not picked today, will not be working for the Royal Court of Norhern Ireland', Cenel said.
He grabbed a parchment.
'Tom Harris. Natalie Harris. Bob Jameson. Petra Jameson. Harry Kent. Mary Kent. Fred Patterson. Reata Patterson. Craig Oliver. Beth Oliver. Frank Geraghty...'. And it went on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on.
And on.
The group of Irish boys, and girls, took their place. Frank waited. 'Get me the boy', Cenel said. He waved at the Princess. She waved back. Then she went back to the Royal Court; she was the cousin to Princess Eolin, and Prince Eamon. The brother, and sister, were regal. The Princess was regal too, but she came from Belfast, which was known for thieves stealing bags of gold in dark alleys. Crime was something foreign to the Kingdom. Cenel dropped a parchment that had the words in bold: The Library of the Arcane-London, England.
'What is this?', Frank asked the magician.
'A magic place', Cenel answered.
'Can I go there?', Frank said.
'Yes, as my apprentice, you can go to a lot of places. London is not to go alone. I shall be with you until you're thirteen. Bad rogues, and thieves, are in England, not in Northern Ireland', Cenel said.
'When can I go?', Frank asked him.
'Soon', Cenel answered.
And Frank smiled.
The High Elf Calaigh
The silver bell tolled.
The High Elf Calaigh grabbed her scepter in her left hand. Her long, blonde hair fell down her thin, white gown; her blue eyes flickered in the light. She had been at odds with the Elven Council on over political matters of the Elven Royal Court called Eichdresmorcthra, "The Way of the Light". She followed the other sixteen High Elves towards the elven thrones, where there was a meeting that was important for all of her people, including her.
The last time Richard Moore stood near the Flames of Life. He walked to the Light; the Light burst outward, as others saw the water fountain. He touched the edge; he waited until there was a burst of energy and colors, before he was transported to the Library of the Arcane.
The Long Journey through the Swamplands towards The Arched Halls of Kerein
The last time Princess Irina watched the swamp, she was concerned about the skeletons that were in the deep woods. She hadn't imagined that the distress that she felt over the invading dark orc invasion; she imagined the terror she felt had eased, as she breathed in and out. Then she waited. And she saw the horse. She hopped onto the animal, and smiled.
'We have to wait, Shadow', she said.
The horse neighed, and she saw her friends who were also on their horses. Dawfron glanced at the Swamp of Lost Souls. With them was Roger Pierson, an apprentice Ranger, who was fourteen.
'Let's go before the wraiths appear', he said.
And they rode onward vailiantly as the darkness consumed them.
***
The wraiths were in the wet swamplands. They glowed in the dark. Their eyes were black; their faces became obscured in the reeds that strangled the branches. The weather was cold; the Arched Halls of Kerein was miles away. The creatures were as evil as the dark orcs, and dark goblins; creatures that shimmered in the gloom. In their rotten hands were daggers that were centuries old; the runes were written on the daggers. Because wraiths were supernatural beings, they couldn't die like humans; wraiths were shimmering in the wet. Their leader, Org, stood near the entrance, its right hand held onto the weapon. Org wore a grey helmet for battle; the helmet wasn't dented. It fought Knights in the swamps last season. It remembered the deaths in the lands, and it yelled in victory. Now, as it saw the three people, it waited to attack, and the battle would resume again.
***
'Go there!', Princess Irina said.
'I see the wraiths', Roger said.
He was about to use his small sword, when Dawfron shouted: 'STOP!'. Roger frowned. He didn't want to stop. It wasn't what he wanted. 'Are you scared of the wraiths?', he asked him.
'Yes, they drain your souls', Dawfron answered.
'Use magic', Princess Irina said.
Roger performed a ancient spell that he learned.
And, as he did so, the wraiths backed away, before Org waved its right hand. Then they retreated into the depths of the Swamp of Lost Souls.
Alana Pryce Forster's cousin, Georgina Pryce Forster, Edinburgh, Scotland, 2016
Alana Pryce Forster saw her cousin, Georgina.
'I was missing you', she said.
'I did too, cousin', Alana said.
'You were away', Georgina said.
'Times are always changing sister', Alana told her.
'I got a new purple gown Mother brought me in the market. Let's talk in the garden', Georgina told her.
'Good. I have a tale to tell you'.
'What tale?', Georgina asked eagerly.
'It's about the strange place in London, England, called The Library of the Arcane', Alana answered.
'I haven't heard about it', Georgina said.
'You have to see the water fountain. You touch it with your hand; you then go there by magic', Alana said.
And they reached the fountain, and they did as Alana told them to do, before the two girls reached the Library in England.
***
The Wizard of Time, Greymore Lockwood, London, England, 2016
Amie Gordon headed to the spare chamber room. She was glad to have have some personal space; she was working on cleaning up the Library of the Arcane with Olivia; she wasn't used to meeting and greeting everyone who came there. The Library was supposed to be secret; the Library attracted magical people, and non-magical people. Somehow she wasn't going to be sociable sometimes. It was a choice thing. She opened of the doors. To her surprise, she saw an old wizard. He seemed to be in a hurry. In its right hand was an aqua glass that was old as he was; he seemed to be rushing. 'I don't want to be here', Greymore Lockwood said. He saw the girl. 'I am Amie Gordon. You're Greymore Lockwood, the High Wizard of the Library of the Arcane', she said.
'I am in a hurry, girl'.
'But, you can't be here', Amie said.
'I am in a hurry...'.
'Can you stop? Olivia will have to be informed'.
'She is not my concern; you are not my concern'.
'Don't you care?'.
'No', Greymore said.
'But, you're a wizard'.
'There are wizards who do care, but I don't care'.
'That's a shame', Amie said.
'No. That is why I am old'.
2591Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2byPD64F1F
Amie shook her head.
'You're not a true wizard'.
'I am a High Wizard. Tomorrow I shall retire into obscurity'.
He grabbed the timer.
'There! I am leaving now', Greymore said.
And he cast a spell, and vanished.
Amie was left to be alone in the chamber room. She cast a shadow near the brown chairs, and sat on it. After a brief rest, she walked around the medium-sized room; she was going to make sure it was clean from dust. The room was full of magical items: skeletons; knights in armor; statues; and magical books from unknown authors on the dusty tables in the middle of the room.
She grabbed one of the books, and started to read.
Elias Shadow, the thief of London, England, 2016
The boy thief, Elias Shadow, was sixteen. He had been away from battles for a long time; he was sick of fighting. The death of several rogues was part of the night time crime in the village of London. He watched the blacksmith, Ytoldesen, banging on the scorching metal with his gloved hand. Sparks flew. He backed away. 'I need a dagger', Elias said. 'One hundred gold coins', Ytoldesen said. Elias shook his head; one hundred gold coins was too expensive these days. 'I'll be coming back soon', he said.
***
Elias walked through the Arched Halls. He had been a thief for several years. He grabbed a green cloak. He wore it across his chest, keeping him warm. The other thieves, and rogues, were whispering. They ignored him. Elias headed to the Rogues Tavern. Inside, he saw burly, sinister looking people drinking ale. Some were playing a game of knife-fingers on the mahogany table; some were asleep by the fireplace. A girl appeared. 'What are you doing here, Elias?', Elle Grimshore asked him.
'I need to place to eat, Ellie', Elias said.
'There's a lot of bad people tonight', Ellie answered.
One of the knife-fingered men saw the thief.
'You owe me fifty gold coins', Rhodes said.
'I will get you the gold', Elias said.
'When'.
'Soon', Elias said.
He waited.
The door opened, and Ytoldsen gave him the dagger.
'Thank you', Elias said.
'A gift for good service. It needs a home. The dagger you need will be in my chamber if you have the gold'.
And he left, as Elias looked at the sharp weapon.
He placed it across his tunic, and relaxed, before he ordered a steak, with vegetables, and wizard's tea.
He had fifty gold coins left over.
***
Elias watched the knife competition. One of the players, a gruff looking man, bled from the knife wound; he grabbed a rag and dabbed it across the injured finger. He looked at the other players. 'I got to leave', Raul said. He watched the front door. As he did so, Cane Joph, the Leader of The Watch, stood near him. He wore a helmet on his right head, and silver armor. And chainmail to protect him from death. His feet was also covered in armor. He looked at the thief. 'Are you leaving so soon?', Cane asked him.
'Need some help for the wound', Raul said.
'Go on then. We're keeping watch on all troublemakers', Cane said.
Raul nodded, and ran through the Arched Halls.
***
Elias was nervous.
He hadn't imagined he had a dagger. He had lost it last season in the Swamp of Lost Souls. He wasn't sure what was going on now. Trouble was trouble. He wanted to play cards, and get more gold coins. He was good at playing. He headed to the brown chair, and warmed his cold hands. 'You're crazy to deal with Cane', Sawyer said.
'I don't need more problems', Elias said.
'Yes, the Watch are keeping tabs on families in Scotland, and London'.
'I don't lie to them'.
'No, they'll arrest you for some crimes'.
Elias shook his head, and ate his meal in silence.
***
After dinner, Elias played cards. There were six players. Three men; three women. They seemed unconcerned about the cards, until one of them shouted: 'I'm out!'. Elias took his place, as the man headed to the Room for Comfort. Elias saw the young woman. She held out three cards. After the game, Elias made one hundred gold coins; the rest of the coins were kept for another time. He pocketed the gold, and headed to the chair, where he slept for two hours. Afterwards, he headed to the Room for Comfort, and closed the door.
***
The bell sounded.
Orton walked to the Altar.
He watched the Dreams of Knights.
He saw the broadswords.
He lay down in the pews of the Catholic Church, and prayed.
***
Mara watched the signs.
Her faith was absolute.
It was a long, drawn out day.
Yawning, she had ate in silence, as the whispers of the group at the Library of the Arcane was quiet.
That was all that mattered to her.
***
Mike waited for the bells to stop.
He had been waiting for three hours.
Irritated, he saw Diane.
'What's the matter?', Diane asked him.
'Nothing', Mike answered.
'Don't like to me'.
'Sorry'.
'You need to sleep'.
'Fine, see you tomorrow, Diane. Good night'.
'Good night'. And, as they yawned, the moon's glow hovered above the Library of the Arcane.
***
Myerdon rose.
He was determined not to see the Watch. They were the law. He saw the girl was crying. 'Come with me, Edith'. Edith nodded. She was nine, and used to dreaming of better things. 'There's a Library in London. A magic one, you'll be safe there'. Edith waited. She was thirsty. She sipped the water, and touched the left side with her left hand; she saw bright colors.
And, in a matter of minutes, she was transported to the magical Library.
***
David was hungry. He looked at the group of travelers. He knew what was going on; he was shifting in the gloom of the room. He held onto the lamp in his right hand; he was sure that the grim warnings of the past. He heard the sound of snoring. The light was in the middle, where other doors was locked for the evening for safety. David watched, then saw the elf near his bed.
'Who are you?', David asked it.
'Culloch', it answered.
'Where's your Master?', David said.
'Away', Culloch stated.
David saw its pointy ears, and it wore green, blue, and red colored robes. Its boots were shining, and were the color of black.
'Don't move!', he warned.
Culloch nodded, and grabbed its spell book in its small, right hand.
***
The elf walked to the Arches.
'Everyone is scared of Quentin Marlowe'.
'The Grand Warlock'.
'Yes'.
'He is not the only Warlock in the United Kingdom. Some of the warlocks of America are paranoid over how their spells are cast; some are scared of having their secrets known to the public. There is a Warlocks League of Arcane Magic. It was a Members Only place for people to use their magic. No humans were allowed'. David thought for himself, then he waited.
'I came here by accident'.
'No. You were here because you're magical. Your bloodline has skipped a generation; your parents don't believe in magic, but they like clowns, parties, and games. And carnivals at holiday times', Culloch stated.
'I understand', David said.
Then he remembered his own father, John.
It was a long time before he thought about him.
***
Culloch, the Elf
The warm fire burned.
Mara waited, as she saw the elf.
'What are you? And what do you want?', she asked.
'I'm Culloch. I am here to make sure the Library is safe', the elf answered. He grabbed a lamp in his right hand; he was used to the bright light that illuminated the chamber room. The arches swirled in the gloom. 'It's dark', Mara sighed. She waited, then she looked at the Knights that guarded the hallways. Their armor shone. She waited for the clock to chime; she was eager to deal with the problems of the past; she breathed in, and out. Then she saw David. 'What's the matter?', Mara asked him. 'I was concerned about the elves', he answered. She nodded. Culloch waited for the bells to chime; bells that were decades old. David watched the darkness recede. Happy, he walked to the water fountain. 'Don't touch it', Mara said. David nodded. If he touched it with his right hand, he would go back to Hyde Park, and meet his father, John. But time flew when he was having fun. Culloch grabbed the ancient book in its left hand, and started to read several chapters. The rest of the book was on the bench.
'I'm tired', Mara said. She yawned, and slept soundly on the brown colored chair near the warm fireplace.
***
The darkness consumed the Library of the Arcane. The Watcher looked at the Temple of the Sighs; the dark wasn't lifting in the shadows. He had been around for three decades in the Catholic Church; he had been preying for two hours. He knew what was the problems of the World; the World was in the grip of magic that humans didn't know about, because of the secrets it kept. The Watcher smoked a pipe. He felt tired; he yawned, then he dreamed of a magical room inside the Library of the Arcane.
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David awoke.
He walked to the kitchen. Elves, and other dwarves, were sipping elven and dwarven tea, and eating pies in the chamber room. They smiled at him, and spoke in low tones, as if they had been wary of spies watching him. David waited, then he saw Diane. 'Are you okay?', he asked her. 'Yes, tomorrow is going to be long', she answered.
He nodded, and let the others talk.
***
Martin Blocker tapped on the cigar. He looked towards the branches. They were sharp; they could cause injuries. He waited for the dark to come. It was eight hours' away; it was as if the shifting of the woods itself had come down to cause mayhem; it was something that created more angst to those who came to the Forest of Dreams; it was as if something terrible was coming.
And Martin hoped that he would be safe.
***
Roghaert, the Hunter of the Forest
Roghaert grabbed the crossbow in his left hand. He walked to the woods to hunt; he was thinking about the food he was going to eat. The woods were dim. He glanced at the shack that was in the middle of the mud; the front door was open. He frowned, as he thought no one knew where he lived. Poachers couldn't come there for fear of the traps that was in the mud that he made himself. Roghaert wore armor, a brown tunic, and grey breeches. His grey boots kept him warm. For the last two years, the memories of his dead wife, Elsa, was on his mind. His long, grey hair was down his back; his blue eyes flickered in the woods. He passed the birch trees. He rested towards the shack, that led to the other places like the Library of the Arcane. He watched the broken carriage that was left abandoned by thieves on the run on the cobbled road. He breathed, as he watched the sun go downward across the sky. He aimed the sharp arrows near the tree, and fired into the target. The whooshing sound was eerily silent; the arrows hit the target. Before he could get them, the sound of voices disturbed his concentration. He backed away, as the voices came forward. Two dark elves whispered to themselves. They carried dark daggers with strange runes etched on the weapons. One of them pointed to the water fountain. Rogaert shook his head. He didn't know what was going on. He was a hunter. The talk of elves near the fountain bothered him. He wasn't in the mind to fight them, yet. Invaders to the woods were few and far between. 'Get the boy', the dark elf said. The second dark elf nodded, bowed, and touched the fountain with its armored right hand. A bright light hit the hunter's eyes. He backed away, in case he was blind. He wasn't though; he wasn't affected by the magic spell. He watched the dark elf ride away on his horse.
He shivered, then he ran to the shack, and closed the door behind him.
Then everything was silent.
Solana Drawmoor, the Noble High Elf
Solana Drawmoor, the noble High Elf, grabbed her sword. She walked to the Arched Walls; she was fifteen. The grey tunic shone across her face; her pointed ears flickered in the arches. She wore a brown amulet, that sparkled across her neck. She walked in her red boots, with an air of grace for a young elf woman. She watched the other nobles, who were prepared for Marriage Day. Soon she would marry, as was the elven tradition; she walked to the throne. The Elf Queen Margarethe was the epitome of beauty, as she attended her Elven Royal Court. Her silver crown was on her head; her eyes were wary, as she smiled. 'Good eve, Solana'. 'Good eve, my Queen. How is your day?', Solana asked her. 'Very well. I am sure there are elven matters to deal with tomorrow', the Elf Queen answered. Solana nodded. She was bowing before the Queen, as was the custom. She thought about what she would say; she said: 'As you're aware, Quentin Marlowe, the Grand Warlock, is here in the elven lands'.
'I'm afraid so. I want a full report on his whereabouts'.
'Yes, my Queen. Can you send for Carson Longbellow, the Wizard's Advisor?', Solana asked her.
'He is dead'.
'Dead'.
'Yes, he was old'.
'Then, who is your new Advisor?'.
'You are, Solana'.
'Me'.
'Yes'.
'But, that is a lot of responsibility'.
The Elf Queen grabbed a scepter, and tapped it on Solana's back. 'I declare that Solana Drawmoor, is the new Advisor to the Elf Queen, and is a member of the Royal Elven Court from now on. Do you accept the job?'.
'Yes, my Queen. It is an honor'.
The Elf Queen smiled, and waved to a spare lime-green chair, where Solana sat for the first time since she was part of the Elven Kingdom.
The bell rang.
Solana was waiting for someone to tell her that the Court would be free of in-fighting. She looked at the regal Princesses and Princes, that arrived by carriage. The Court was full of all kinds of royalty. She saw the young Elf Prince Archmearn. The fifteen year old elf Prince was popular in the Elven Kingdom. He wore a crown on his head, a lime tunic, brown breeches, and green boots on his feet. He had pointed ears, and wore a silver ring on his right, middle finger. And grey chainmail to protect his body from harm due to fencing battles. 'Solana. You're new here', he said. 'Good eve, my Prince. I'm the Advisor to the Elf Queen', she said. He thought about what she told him. 'About time. I am to go to the Swamp of Darkness soon'. She thought about what he told her.
'Isn't that dangerous?', Solana asked him.
'Yes, it is', the Elf Prince Archmearn, answered.
'Use this weapon', Solana said.
It was a dagger with strange markings on the weapon.
'What is this?'.
'A dagger for magic'.
'A magic dagger'.
'Yes, Mother told me to use it well'.
'I know. Let me practice it soon after Court is over'.
Solana nodded, as the Court started.
***
Quentin Marlowe bowed.
'My Queen. How are you this eve?', the Grand Warlock asked her.
'Why are you here in my Kingdom, Warlock?'.
'Business, my Queen'.
'Business. That is not of our concern'.
'But, there are the news of the Elven Council'.
'The Elven Council is not your concern', the Elf Queen repeated. The Warlock's face went from friendly, to being hostile.
'I demand things of you my Queen. And you know what I need'.
'I'm sorry but security is stepped up beyond the Barrier'.
'The Barrier is broken, my Queen'.
'Broken! Rubbish! I it safe...'.
And the Elf Queen stared into the Warlock's eyes, and saw only coldness.
'What is the matter, Mother', Elf Princess Zadiriah asked.
'The Barrier is broken', the Elf Queen answered her daughter.
'Broken. How can it be so?'.
'It is broken because of the Library of the Arcane', Quentin Marlowe said.
'The Library of the Arcane is not our concern', Elf Queen Amaderhn said.
'That is not true, my Queen. It has had humans going into that place. Humans. How many more humans are allowed there', Quentin said. She watched Solana. 'The breach is terrible', she said. The Warlock nodded. 'Yes, the Advisor speaks the truth; a truth which won't be ignored, or tolerated by bad rulers', Quentin said. The Elf Queen was exasperated.
'Very well, Warlock. The breach shall be filled in'.
Quentin relaxed.
'Breaches are because those who use the water fountain in Hyde Park will touch it with their hands, and they travel to the cursed place. If it is stopped, then no one will be going there at all'.
'Then I shall use magic to stop the breach', the Elf Queen declared. She closed her eyes, and cast a spell. Bright colors filled the cold, English air. Then the colors disappeared, and the silence was loud.
***
Solana gasped, and so was the members of the Elven Royal Court. 'The Barrier is closed', the Elf Queen said. Quentin smiled. 'Tomorrow is another day, my Queen', the Warlock said. He bowed, and left the Court.
Solana made sure there wasn't any threats.
'The Court is safe, my Queen'.
'The Court is over for the night. Everyone is dismissed!'.
And they did so knowing everything was changed forever.
***
The Library of the Arcane-London, England, 2016
'The Library is closed', David said.
'Closed', Diane frowned.
'Yes, closed. Someone used magic to do it', Mara said.
'Ancient magic', Jim said.
'Yes', David said.
'What do we do now?', Amie asked her friends.
'Open it', David said.
He grabbed a spell book.
He looked at one of the easier ones.
'Unblocking the Library in rooms'.
A room can be unblocked by using a strong spell by using a Counter Spell. David read it, and performed it.
Once the spell worked, the Library of the Arcane was free from elven magic.
END OF BOOK 1
Part 3
Alana Pryce Forster's mother, Daemondra, Fife, Scotland, 2016
Alana Pryce Forster looked at the darkness. She was eager to talk to her mother, Daemondra, who was an enigmatic person who didn't care about her daughter's welfare; she had a fiery temper of the Scottish tradition. She was a witch, and her eyes were filled with fire that was magical. 'Come to me later on, Alana, I'm busy'. Alana cried, and knew she had to be strong. As a young girl, she was used to magic; she was talking to Francesca Iovne, an Italian girl witch. They walked to the Forest of Dreams near the Loch of Fates. 'Marriage Day is five years' away', she said. Alana nodded. All regal families were in line for the next stage of their lives; all of the witches, wizards, sorcerers, and warlocks, were eager to use their powers for good, or for evil.
It was called The Path of Ways.
Alana saw the Water of the Light, and drank from it.
Saebrine, the Scottish rogue
The woods were dim.
Saebrine grabbed the dagger with the runes on its edges, and headed to the birch trees. She had long, black hair, blue eyes, and petite. The grey chainmail kept her free from injury; her self-defence lessons with Kildareh, the Master -At-Arms meant that she could defend herself against enemies. The Castle was nearby, that was near the Elven Royal Court. The Elf Queen Amaderhn sat on her throne. The young Queen waited for her to bow; Saebrine smiled. 'It is an honor to meet you my Queen, for all of the Scottish members of the Royal Court'. The Elf Queen thought for a moment. 'Come near the throne, child'. Saebrine nodded. Near the Elf Queen was her daughter, Elf Princess Zadiriah. Solana Drawmoor, the new Advisor, sat on the green chair listening to the problem at hand.
'Quentin Marlowe wants to take over Scotland'.
'He is a warlock'.
'Yes, he is. He demands to use his magic for evil'.
'Will he succeed my Queen?', Saebrine asked the Queen.
'No', the Elf Queen answered.
And the matter ended there and then.
Alana Pryce Forster waited.
Other members of the Elven Royal Court whispered. They had been waiting for the Elf Queen to be married by now. The new King wasn't on the mind; a Elf King would make things better. But, over the last couple of decades, nothing happened. It was said that war was tearing Scotland apart, then peace happened. The Elven Council was bickering; Alana sighed. 'The Kingdom has been making changes in a hurry; changes that won't be good for either of you, my Queen, until you marry. A King needs to be ruling soon', she explained. The Elf Queen wasn't used to demands; she wasn't used to such bluntness. Nonetheless, she was thinking about her future. 'There is a meeting of other regal Kingdoms tomorrow. We'll see who comes to us', the Elf Queen Amaderhn announced.
And everyone cheered at the announcement.
***
Elf High Noble Aldred W Fesscoe
The whip was on the gravelly ground. Aldred W Fesscoe, the High Elf Noble, was near the carriage. His eyes focused on Shipton, the carriage driver. 'Go forward, my Lord', he said. Aldred adjusted his grey coat. He looked at the entrance to the Elven Kingdom that was heavily guarded. Despite all of the rumors of the Elf Queen not being married since the death of her husband last winter, her mourning was long; her suitors didn't matter to him. He had imagined the Queen would be greeting him with positive news of the union; he waited for the marriage to start soon. At least, he hoped so, unless talk of the Warlock, Quentin Marlowe, was around to ruin things; Marlowe was used to interfering in elven matters. If he was King, he'd get rid of the Warlock, and rule with honor.
He bowed in front of the Elven Gates.
'State your business', Myron Shinweoghe, the Head of the Elven High Guard, said. Aldred smiled.
'Good eve. I am Aldred W Fesscoe, High Elf Noble. I intend to meet the Elf Queen', he said.
'Are you a friend, or foe of the Elf Queen?'.
'The new King of the Elven Kingdom, a friend'.
'You may pass'.
And Aldred bowed, and headed into the Elven Kingdom, with Shipton following behind the noble man who would be King soon.
***
Solana saw the handsome noble man. She smiled at the Elf Queen. She didn't know who he was; she waited. 'And who are you, my Lord?', the Elf Queen asked him. 'My Queen, I am not a Lord; I am a elven nobleman. I'm Aldred W Fesscoe, High Elf Noble of the Kingdom', he answered. The Queen of the Elves was happy to see someone who was near her age. 'Why are you here this eve?', she asked. The High Noble man bowed. 'I see your hand in marriage, my Queen. I shall not rush into it, others have failed to acknowledge the past death of the King of the Elves', Aldred said. The Elf Queen smiled.
'Please, take a throne, Aldred. My daughter needs to approve of you', Elf Queen Almaderhn said. He saw the Elven Princess. She was smiling at him. 'Good eve. I am Elf Princess Zadiriah', she said. Her crown sparkled. She grinned at the regal noble. 'If mother loves you then I do too. Family is important, Aldred'. Her pointed ears heard every sound.
'I wish all elves to be able to be free from invasion'.
'The Barrier has been opened, it was closed before'.
'Who opened it?'.
'David Carter, a human wizard at the Library of the Arcane'.
'I've heard about that place in London'.
'We need to stop him'.
'Stop him'.
'Yes, we can't let him close the door; we need it to be open'.
'I will address the matter urgently'.
And the Elven Princess smiled.
Diane from the Library of the Arcane-London, England, 2016
Diane watched the Rogue of Sinners. She gazed at the rugged looking pirate. He seemed bored by the game of cards; he looked at the warm fireplace. Shadows hovered across his face, as he turned towards her. 'What are you doing here, Diane? Alf said you were not his wife'.
'I am not!', Diane sighed.
And she let the matter rest.
David watched the darkness.
He had grabbed the lamp in his right hand.
Then he explored the different type of books to read in the Library of the Arcane.
Temple heard the bell ringing.
She opened the doors, and saw a girl smiling at her.
'What's this place?', she asked.
'The Library of the Arcane', Temple answered her.
'May I come in?'.
'Who are you?', Temple said.
'Danielle. Mike's sister'.
Mike gasped.
'Danielle', he said.
'Good morning, brother', she said.
And she smiled.
The Library of the Magical Artifacts-London, England, 2016
Cara waited for the bell to ring.
A brownie appeared.
'Good morn, lassie', it said.
'How are you?', Cara asked it.
'I am well. I'm Dougal', it answered.
'Cara. What is this room?'.
'The Library of the Magical Artifacts', Dougal said.
'It's in a different part of the Library of the Arcane'.
'Aye, lassie. There's a lot of rooms, and chambers, in the Library. Secret rooms that humans don't know about', Dougal said.
'But I came here knowing about magic', Cara said.
'Then you know about the Warlock called Quentin Marlowe'.
'Yes'.
'After Mara killed the other warlock, Lord Nathaniel'.
'I heard about it'.
'Yes, she had faith'.
'Faith'.
'Religious faith'.
'I see',
'In short, you need to believe in God, or Jesus Christ'.
'That's a human matter'.
'Yes, it is'.
'I have no faith, does it matter?'.
'No. Let's look at the magical items, okay'.
'Yes', Cara said.
And the brownie smiled.
The Elf Prince Archmearn, Fife, Scotland, 2016
The woods were full of old twigs.
Elf Prince Archmearn watched the rain fall down. He was riding on his favorite horse, Silverio, who neighed all of the time. The silence was deafening. He hadn't imagined the elves were under threat; he was first in line to be King. But he saw the noble man, Aldred W Fesscoe, trying to romance the Elf Queen. He had seen suitors all of the time; he had been plotting since his father died. This was done in secret. Other elves were on his side. Nearby was a babbling brook. He got off the horse. 'Wait here'. He looked at the water. It was swirly. Afterwards, he heard the sound of voices. Human voices. He frowned. The elves of the Elven Council lied to him. The Elven Kingdom was breached; he grabbed a sharp dagger in his armored right hand. The whispers were closer, and closer. He saw two human hunters with Quentin Marlowe. 'The breach is complete', the warlock said.
'The Library is closed'.
'Yes, David Carter performed a spell. We have someone near the brook with a horse', Quentin smirked.
'This is elven lands', the Elf Prince said.
The Warlock cast a spell, and knocked the Prince unconscious. Then he, and his two servants, disappeared into the abyss.
Morchant, the Dark Goblin, London, England, 2016
Morchant stood near the entrance to the Forest of Eichfroing. The Dark Goblin held onto the dagger in its right hand; its eyes focused on the hut. It was a long morning, and it was tired from hunting. The coldness of the weather in London made it impossible for the goblins to attack humans. Morchant was eager to deal with the Warlocks that wanted power. It waited, then it had heard a woman's voice.
It waited before it decided what to do.
Gwendolyn Hart, the Thief of Guilds, London, England, 2016
Shadows hovered above the Thames River. Gwendolyn Hart shifted in the carriage. She wasn't sure what was going on; she saw her brother Caleb Hart, was bored. They saw Edrich Hass, the elven driver, had steered towards the arches. It had been riding for two hours towards the Library of the Arcane. 'How far is it?', Gwendolyn asked her brother. 'Four hundred meters to go', Caleb answered. She waited, and sighed. For a long time, their parents were too poor for school. Being a thief was something that needed to do, so she could feed her family. The rain started to fall. She saw the entrance to the Library.
The elf stopped riding.
'We're here', Eldrich said.
And the door opened, and they reached the place for safety.
***
David saw them.
'Who are you?', he asked them.
'Gwendolyn Hart. This is my brother, Caleb. And Edrich, our driver. It is dangerous at night', she answered. The small group was anxious. 'The Library is for magical people only', David said.
'You are human', Caleb said.
'Yes, but I touched the water fountain at Hyde Park, and came here'.
'I heard that it's a park in London, England', Gwendolyn said.
'Yes', David said.
'May we pass?'.
'Yes, you may. You can go inside'.
'Thank you', Caleb said.
And the door closed behind them.
***
Mara watched the newcomers.
'There's a lot of problems between humans and elves', she said. In her right hand was the King James Bible. The darkness was coming. She watched them, and introduced herself, along with the others. 'The Library is a place for reading books, education, and arcane magic. It's not going to be invaded by elves, dwarves, or orcs', David said.
'No one is invading England, or Scotland', Maisie said.
'But, they are', Mike said.
'We won't harm anyone', Caleb told him.
'We'll see', Mike said.
And he warmed his cold hands by the fireplace in the Chamber Room. Bright lamps illuminated the room, as the rain became heavier.
Mydor, the Magician, London, England, 2016
The mahogany table was full of artifacts. A bright lamp illuminated the magician, who grabbed the goblet in his right hand, and drank the wine from it. Then he headed to the Room for Comfort, and closed the door.
Simon Trenchard looked at the market's food. He glanced at the girl near the apples; he grabbed three apples, and placed it in the grey basket. In it were pears, green beans, red and green capsicums, and onions. He smiled at her. 'How much for everything?', he asked her. 'Three silver coins, Sir', she answered. He took out five silver coins, and he gave it to her. 'Keep the change', Simon said. 'Thank you, Sir'. Simon nodded, and walked away from the busy market.
Thor Massen, the Swedish hunter, stood near the woods. He had been hunting elk in the North American lands; he was sure the Swedish people would be different from those in London and Scotland; Thor heard a sound. It was a rifle. There was a loud booming sound. He ran to the water fountain. As he touched it, he was transported to the Swedish Library of the Arcane, that was protected by ancient magic.
And the blood came to the Forest of Eden. The rush came forth, as the boy slipped on the jagged rocks; he screamed in agony, then he calmed down. It was a small cut. He limped onward to the old shack. The cut was the last thing he was sure happened before the Warlock came. He opened the door. 'Andrew, what happened?', Deanne asked her nine year old son. 'I cut myself, Mother', Andrew answered. 'Let me see'. She walked to the medicine cabinet; the door opened. She made sure she got some Band-Aids, and placed it on his cut, right leg.
And the matter ended there and then.
The last people were in the midst of the Dark World Order. Their eyes focused on the thick rain that battered the coast; the lightning fell out of the blackened sky, creating a sense of the chaotic, that gripped the ravaged coast of Dasdqilgh. No one wanted to go there, unless the ships were under water. There was a silence that descended upon the coast, and the sailors fought to live in times of war.
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Younger Flood, the Ranger, stood near the warm fire. He had been deciding on the footsteps that were nearby was from the enemy; the footsteps was silent from the entrance to the Library of the Arcane; the four goblins were snoring. Their ears were free of pain; their faces were covered in scars from battles long ago. Younger crept forward, and tapped on the Iron Doors. Mike opened the door. 'Yes', he said. 'May I pass, or go inside, or both?', Younger asked.
'Both', Mike answered.
And he walked inside, and the door closed behind them.
Lady Rowena, Edinburgh, Scotland, 2016
Lady Rowena glanced at the Temple of Sighs. She was seeing the statue of God, and Jesus Christ; she glided towards the Mirror of Solomons in her long, white gown. In her right hand was a grey staff. Her eyes focused on the puddles in the swamps. The sounds of frogs was heard. She knew the Catholic Church welcomed new comers; she was nervous.
She prayed in silence, as the wrought-iron gates opened, and Lord Daniel, her husband, appeared.
'It's time before The Ceremony of Times, my Lady'.
'I'll come now, husband', Lady Rowena said.
And she followed him out of the room.
The man watched the crackling fire. It was cold now. The carriageman, Porter, shook his head. The silence became annoying. He lit his favorite pipe. The fog was thick; the London sky was cold as last week. 'Porter, this is not the way to the Library of the Arcane', Briarson said. Porter nodded. 'There! See!'. He commented. One of the guards stood back, as if he was asleep. Briarson waited. Several orcs were holding daggers in their gloved hands. After a short battle, the bodies were buried in the deep woods.
Porter and Briarson tapped on the front door, and waited to be let in.
Christie Massing stood near the pew.
She clasped the King James Bible, and saw Father Moore. She looked up, as he smiled at her.
'Are you fine, Miss?', he asked her .
'Yes, Father. I am alone now since Jeff Richards left me', she answered. Father Moore thought for a moment, then nodded. 'He was not for you', he said. Christie sighed. 'I don't want to deal with him now', she told him.
'Fine, I am in my office if you need me'.
'Yes, Father', Christie said.
And he nodded, and left her alone.
The old man was asleep.
He watched the old woman in her rocking chair. The goblins were whispering; goblins that whispered in silence. They walked to the warm fireplace. After they slept, the darkness came. The old man went to the Room for Comfort. After he washed his hands, and dried them with a blue towel, he saw her still on the chair. The door opened, and a wizard appeared.
'Who are you?', the old man asked.
'Good eve. I'm Quentin Marlowe, a warlock', he answered.
'Warlock'.
'Yes, do you believe in magic?'.
'No', the old man said.
'That's unfortunate', Quentin said.
He grabbed his spell book, and smiled.
Amy Tracker was thinking about the time in which she saw the water fountain. She saw two boys who were fighting. 'Toby! Hans! If you two don't stop it, no ice cream, and dinner tonight', their mother, Francine, warned. Toby slipped on the muddy ground, and Amy touched the water fountain. The two boys were obviously playing like boys do, and not caring about their own bad behahavior. Amy sighed. She touched the water fountain, and was transported to the Library of the Arcane. The boys were in the 1998 limousine in the human World, and wasn't going to be allowed to see any magic at all.
Maisie walked towards the darkness of the chapel. She headed towards the Catholic Church; she was thinking about the blessings she received during her private time; she didn't wallow in self piety; she was thinking about her Mother, and her life in trouble in Edinburgh, Scotland, and her vacations in London, England. That was why she was secretive, and her letters about The Library of the Arcane. She was a student there, and didn't want to tell her daughter why she was going there. The last time was an unknown quality that Maisie wasn't part of. Maisie focused on the dark time, and prayed to God, to let the magical Light inside. Shadows focused on the Altar; more shadows clashed across the Confessional, which was covered by red and blue colored curtains.
'And, what sin have you confessed to?', Father O'Malley asked her.
'The sins of the Warlock's charms, Father', Maisie answered.
'What is this Warlock's name, Daughter of God?', the Father asked her.
'Quentin Marlowe, Father', Maisie answered.
And she cried.
The Confessional of Sinners-London, England, 2016
David had eaten.
He yawned, and went to sleep by the warm fireplace in the Library of the Arcane.
Porter and Briarson
Porter and Briarson saw Mike.
'Who are you?', he asked.
'I'm Porter, the carrageman. This is Briarson. We seek refuge against Quentin Marlowe, the Dark Warlock', Porter answered.
'I'm Mike. Please, come inside the Library of the Arcane'.
'Thank you', Porter said.
'Thank you', Briarson said.
And the door closed behind them.
Mara attended the Church service. The chapel was free of worshipers. She closed her eyes; she prayed to God. The man stood near her, as if he was the janitor. Humans used the Library to clean the Rooms of Comfort; he wasn't magical. Olivia made sure he did his job, and was paid for his work. Then he left. Mara made sure she had been been awake before the bells tolled. She looked at Olivia. The young woman smiled; the woman was holding papers in her right hand. 'Paperwork', Olivia said. 'Are you going to pray?', Mara asked her. 'Yes, soon', Olivia answered. Mara was nervous. In her left hand was the King James Bible. She stopped praying, and let the light go into the dim room.
The elf walked towards the woods. He saw the broken carriage. He looked around; he didn't have to look around to see the bodies on the ground. The shadows of the previous night had disappeared, leaving the light to illuminate its face. It shook its head; it knew the Elf Queen Amaderhn was young, and ruled faithfully. The deaths were inside the Barrier; the Barrier was tainted now. Its right hand was holding a small dagger. Voices were near a place he wasn't familiar with: The Library of the Arcane.
It went near two sleeping elves, who were guarding the front entrance. It knocked on the door.
Cara opened it.
'Who are you?', she asked the elf.
'Mosegretch', the elf answered.
'Come inside. I'm Cara. Welcome to the Library of the Arcane'.
And the elf bowed, as was the elven custom, then it followed her towards the warm fireplace, where others greeted the elf.
'What made you go here, Mosgretch?', Cara asked him.
'Travels. I didn't think I would meet Quentin Marlowe, the Dark Warlock. He burned down my village last winter. I escaped, but I vowed to get revenge. I have no house to go to', it answered.
'I'm sorry', Olivia said.
'Thank you', the elf said.
'How can we stop him?', Mike asked.
'You can't', Mosgretch answered.
And he told them why.
David thought for a moment.
He had a book in his right hand.
'The Warlock has a lot of powers...magical powers. We have to defeat him, but it won't be easy', he said to the group. Mosgretch nodded. Jim was sipping wizard's tea; he was thoughtful as he was free of magic, he wasn't. The dark arches was illuminated by the lamps that glowed in the walls.
'We have to deal with him, now', Mara said.
And they nodded.
Quentin Marlowe waited.
It was mid-afternoon on Wednesday. He had thought about the Library of the Arcane; he hadn't imagined the problem had irked him. Yet he had a plan. The stories of magic hadn't waned. He sipped wizard's tea, and relaxed. The woods was dark. He grabbed the lamp in his right hand, and walked towards the shack. It was an ordinary afternoon, and the dark was gone. The fickle weather meant that he was in London; he was saying a spell, and his magic was stronger than ever.
The girl walked to the water fountain.
She drank eagerly.
After she finished, she heard the sound of voices. She backed away, and frowned. The old woman walked to the fountain. Nothing happened to her because she didn't believe in magic; she was unconcerned about what was happening. She smiled at the girl, and saw her husband. The girl shook her head, and touched the water fountain. In a matter of seconds Hyde Park illuminated the place, and she was transported to the Library of the Arcane, which was only for magic people.
The door opened, and Mike saw her.
'This is silly. Who are you?', he asked her.
'Sara Moesten', she answered.
'How did you get here?'.
'I touched the water fountain'.
'Yes, that will do that. I'm Mike'.
'Can I go in?'.
'Yes', Mike said.
And, like before, the front door closed.
Olivia grabbed the book.
She was thinking about the warlock. She didn't want to deal with the darkness. It was five o'clock now. The shadows hovered, as she saw the candles on the mahogany tables in the middle of the spacious room.
And she read in silence.
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The little flowers bloomed in the winter. Shadows filled the icy streams in London, England; streams that were slippery. Evan Chambers slipped on the ice, and cried: 'Mom! Dad!'. He saw the parents were rushing towards him. 'I don't you Ian, not to go in the ice; I told you', Eve said. Ian sighed. 'It's a cut, Evan. I'll get a Band-Aid'. Eve shook her head. They were on vacation from New York. They didn't need to deal with the stories of elves in Central Park; they said it was a dream, a fantasy. And then Evan's school closed, and his life in the magical World increased.
The Ice Queen of Hyde Park, London, England, 2016
The Forest of the Faeries-London, England, 2016
The Forest of the Faeries sign was near the grey road. It was raining nearby, as the drops filled the green shrubs. Taylor Moore stood near the sign. She was looking at the darkness; she saw her mother, Karen Moore, was on her cell phone. 'Isn't it good, Mother', she said. Karen, who was checking her messages, nodded. She forced herself to eat the sandwiches; she sipped her favorite coffee. As she did so, the southerly wind blew across her face. 'Mother! Can you see the sign?', Taylor asked her.
'Yes, I can', Karen asked her nine year old daughter. She made sure her messages were read, as the darkness of the afternoon, increased.
The Elf Queen-Fife, Scotland, 2016
The shadows lingered.
Solana watched the procession. It was an honorable tradition in the Elven Kingdom; it was something to behold; it was something she had been looking forward to since she was part of the Royal Court. She glided in the green robe. Her eyes flickered in the grey stones in the deep woods; her face was young. She saw Saebrine was whispering in the left ear of the Elf Queen. Other elves were in attendance. They were happy to talk in secret.
'My Queen, I've given you a report on the dark orcs', Solana said.
Elf Queen Amaderhn nodded.
'The Ka'elkhm are dangerous', the Elf Queen said.
'I don't want the Elven Kingdom to be in trouble'.
'We're safe', the Elf Queen stated.
Then she attended to other important matters.
The purple flowers were in the wild woods. Sao, the hunter, walked to the darkness; the moon's glow filtered towards pool. Sao yawned. He looked at the moon, and shivered from the cold. He saw two sleeping dwarves who were asleep in their bags; the dwarves were small, but wore brown tunics, and grey breeches. Their red boots kept them warm. Sao waited. Nearby, he saw their daggers that was covered in ancient runes from centuries ago. He was yawning again. Then he saw the water fountain. He drank water eagerly; he touched it with his left hand. And he disappeared.
He reached the Library of the Library of the Arcane in London, England, in another magical country in the United Kingdom.
The twisting falls of the branches forced Simpkins to crash. He was thinking about the darkness; the darkness filled his eyes with tears. He was eager to deal with the burning fires that ravaged the London streets, savaging the night. He walked to the trees that was black; he walked away in case the trees fell. He saw the cowering girl; the girl was afraid. 'It's fine, I'm here to save you'. She cried until her blue eyes became red, and were sore. 'I want Mummy'. He nodded. The guards were dead; the security was abandoned. Simpkins watched. 'Go! Go!'. The girl did as she was told to ; she was scared of death.
Yet she found courage to go with the stranger, and the darkness faded away.
The talk ended.
Myerson stood near the Walls of Time. He saw Lady Rowena. She glanced at the Mirror of Shadows; she sighed. 'What's the matter, my Lady?', Myerson asked. 'The Timers of Rhyert were afraid of the Sorcerers', Lady Rowena answered. He thought about what she was saying.
'The Sorcerers aren't in Scotland, nor London, England'.
'They're coming', Lady Rowena said.
And the sirens blared.
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The haggard looking man was scared. He saw the shallowed walls. The water was vast; water that was like a semi-flood. The lamp illuminated the arches. He wiped away the food from his grey beard with his hands; he saw the carriage that was broken down. Others looked at the lamp, and became disinterested in the carriage. He watched the Forest of Kerein, that was guarded by elves, and dwarves. He yawned again, and slept soundly on a grey rug in a tent.
Tooem, the Dwarf, sipped his ale. It had been in the Mines of Sagjothhn, two miles from the Scottish loch, that was frozen over time itself. It was eager to deal with the gold in the bags. It took two of the bars out of the bag; it fell into its left hand. The rain eased; the loch was known for its mysterious creatures. Tooem glanced at the hammer in its right hand that was in runes. It watched the Loch. The rain was terrible; rain that came from the sky that was black. Tooem watched the rain. Over the next couple of hours it became a chore. Tooem reasoned that the night time was full of mystery, that created a force of immense power. It ate its meal hungrily; it then slept for the rest of the evening.
The shadows left the village.
Farr looked at the darkness. Yet, for some time, the Fates of the World descended on the Arches of Time. Farr walked to the edge, as Orra, his wife, was cooking in the kitchen. She hugged her husband. He was smiling at her, as if the day was long. Farr warmed his cold hands by the fireplace, then he sat down on a grey chair, and ate his meal with her.
The morning dawn sun glowed in the London windows.
David watched Cara.
'It's what is done, that can't be changed'.
'You're worried'.
'Yes, I am worried. You're scared'.
'Yes, I am. Aren't you?', she asked.
'Yes, I am', David answered.
She nodded, and the light came across their faces.
***
Mike watched the Grandfather clock. He waited, and watched the timing. Down. Down. Down. Down. Up. Up. Up. Up. 'Isn't it strange?', Olivia asked him. 'Yes; yes, it is', Mike answered. He grabbed the book on the shelf; he saw it was old novel of fantasy that was written by an author that wasn't popular-yet. The timing was off; the timing was disconcerting.
And then they heard the sound of laughing coming from The Room of Ancient Things, whch was full of spidery webs in the rafters.
The dark world was closed off.
Simpkins waited, he was shaking his head. The voices were clearer now. Before it was off, as if the chimes of the silver bell came towards him. He looked tired, as if the talk of elves, and dwarves, orcs, and other magical creatures, drained him. The last time he was frustrated was when he was prevented from entering the secretive place; he shook his head.
He walked to the entrance, and knocked with his left hand.
The door creaked open, then he went inside.
The last time Soren Kapp stared at the Witch of Time was before the Reckoning. He saw the young woman who was dressed in a red gown. Her long, black hair fell downward; her hazel eyes flickered in the abyss. 'Are you alright, my Lady?', Soren asked her. 'Yes, I am sure you're demanding to use the Grimoire'. Soren waited. 'No; no, that's dark magic', Soren said. She nodded. The Grimoire was full of arcane magic that Lord Nathaniel, and Quentin Marlowe performed. I believe Mara killed Lord Nathaniel; Mara had faith', Soren said. She nodded, and they discussed important matters that filled them with wonder at the news that the darkness and the Light, were a long way away.
The great fire burned.
Olsedy Waincott dragged the blackened pipe, as the sky was dark. He watched the sun go down, as he slept for a long time.
The darkness lifted.
Cara watched the Knights of the Lost People. They guarded the chambers. The girl was holding the spell book in her right hand; her face was concerned about seeing witches, wizards, and warlocks, who used dark magic for their own nefarious ends. Diane watched the Grandfather clock.
It was Midday.
Diane walked to the Room of Ancient Things.
She grabbed a book, and read it. The voices were waiting, as she knew, deep down, what was going on; voices that were soft, and whispered in a language that was foreign to her. Maybe it was Irish; maybe it was Gaelic Irish. She knew she was tired; she was yawning.
She placed the book back on the mahogany shelf.
And slept on the black chair.
The last time Solas Wiejin shook his head, the shadows hovered above the room; his face was etched in concern, as he saw Esther Kraigh walking towards the warm fireplace. 'Are you cold?', Solas asked her. 'Yes', Esther answered. He nodded, and they made sure the heat was inside.
Mike awoke.
He wasn't sure what was going on. He saw Diane was with Mara. That irked him; that was what was making his life hard. Diane wasn't religious; Diane didn't have faith. That was what was the matter. He begun to sigh, then he opened the chamber door; he warmed his cold hands, and waited for the others to arrive.
Olden Dawd, the old farmer, gazed at the farm. He heard the sound of footsteps; the footsteps were closer. He watched the house outside, and he was cold. He grabbed the grey coat, and put it on. He was eager to deal with the invasion himself; he was thinking about the Library of the Arcane. The whispers was in his brain, searing the fabric of time itself. Olden waited. At forty-seven, he had been older than his dead wife, Essie, who died last summer. She was forty-nine. He remembered their children; he waved at them as they were growing up. Lastly, Olden smoked a pipe. He walked towards the attic, and closed the door.
He rested his feet, and dreamed of a better future.
H. K. Lowe, II, the Assassin, walked to the Forest of Dreams. He breathed heavily. He was eager to show the King what was going on. He glanced at the Royal Court. There was a lot of Princess, Princesses, Advisors, and Magicians; there was a lot of of magic users who were talking. He glanced at the King. He focused on the Knights. And the Guards. They were waiting for anyone who looked suspicious. Assassins were few, and far between. Political ones were messy. The darkness caused him problems. He walked to the river. He saw a girl nearby. 'Are you lost?', he asked her. 'No. I'm Princess Maddie. Who are you?', she asked. 'Brad Kent', he answered. 'Are you bad?', she said. 'Yes, sometimes. I am faithful to the Crown, and Kingdom', he said. She pondered what he said. 'You need to be safe'. He watched the carriage nearby.
'Is that yours, my Princess?', he asked.
'Yes, Father and Mother is waiting for me. Good bye, Brad Kent'.
He watched her, and knew she would be Queen of Ireland soon.
The woman was cooking.
She became nervous.
Patrick Clement wished he was away.
She thought about her husband.
She focused on the shadows outside.
Children were throwing rocks at arches.
The memories dimmed.
She walked to the fireplace, and heard the door was banging.
She opened it, and saw someone she thought was dead.
It was the Warlock, Quentin Marlowe.
'Good afternoon', he smiled.
The shadowed man stood near the arches. He smoked a cigar, as he heard the whispers. He backed away, as he watched the woman cooking again. The aroma filled his nostrils. He saw the pamphlet with the words: The Library of the Arcane; he shook his head, as if the strangeness of the words gripped him. Arcane. The old word was in his mind now. He headed to the Hyde Park water fountain. As he touched it, he saw bright colors that gripped him. He was transported to another place, which was full of young witches, and warlocks.
The Shattering People roamed the city of Dublin, Ireland. They wore religious clothes; they spread fear of God, and Jesus Christ, into the Un-Blessed Ones. They denounced the Library of the Arcane for spreading un-truths. They were prepared for the Day of Time, which was going to be soon.
David yawned.
It was a long, cold day in London, England, and the magic was only just beginning, as he went to sleep.
The fire burned.
Olger Saimwortun used the torch in his right hand. He waited for The Dawn to rise; he was eager to find the Woman of the Light. He breathed in and out; he was eager to seek her out, as the rain started to fall.
Cara was with Diane.
'We have to deal with the dark warlock, Quentin Marlowe', Diane said. She grabbed a book, and she read it, with Cara.
Mara watched the bell toll. She looked at the old books. The colors of the books were in her mind; the book spine was good for its age, and not tattered from decades ago. She saw Olivia. 'Are you alright?', she asked her. 'Yes, I was dreaming again', Mara answered.
Olivia nodded, and told her all about the book she was reading.
The twinkling of the stars blined Ross.
He looked at the woods, and imagined he was in Werewolf Lodge. The moon's glow shimmered in the black sky; the sky was in darkness. He saw the elf girl named Roa. She was eager to tell him about how the wolves would howl; she shook her head, then she closed the iron door, and the howls vanished, as Ross warmed his cold hands by the warm fireplace.
Father Moore stood near the shadows. He gazed at the Altar, and preyed. He looked at the statue of Jesus Christ, and motioned to the blind girl. She was eager to deal with the silence; she looked at the Altar. 'Are you alright, Emily?', the Father asked her.
'Yes, Father. I hear that warlocks are in the Library of the Arcane', she answered. The Father stopped what he was doing.
What is she talking about?, he thought to himself.
He sighed, and knew she was talking about a place of fantasy.
'I'll call your parents', the Father said.
'Okay, Father', Emily frowned.
And she knew she was in trouble for telling him about it.
The darkness arrived in London, England. Mabel Thomas walked to the Tavern of Heroes. Some travellers were arriving for their meals. She warmed her hands by the fireplace; she saw a boy was asleep on a grey chair to her left; she focused on the light that filtered in the windows. Lady Rowena arrived. She gazed at the Lords, Ladies, and other members of Royalty; she looked at the group. Mabel saw an elf girl appear, and smiling at her.
'Good evening. Do you want to have a seat?', she asked.
'Yes, please. Nice tavern', Mabel answered.
'Yes, it just opened in London, and Edinburgh, Scotland'.
'Which table is free?', Mabel said.
'Three', the elf said.
And Mabel was shown to her table, as everyone started to arrive.
Mike walked.
He was thinking about the dark elves. They were eager to be in the shadows. He watched the rain coming down. He shivered. He had enough problems today. Diane was with Mara. 'Hello, Mike. Are you well?', Mara asked him. 'Yes, there's a lot of warlocks around the city', she answered. Diane sipped some wizard's tea. The aroma was lovely.
'It's late, let's go to sleep', Diane said.
The next morning, Diane watched the statues. She focused on the thin hall. The last time she did, she was concerned about the Library of the Arcane's other rooms. Some of the other travelers enjoyed were away on business; some were intent on other matters that didn't concern them. She heard a girl that was whistling a folk song.
The door creaked open.
'Anna'.
The girl, who was on the rocking horse, smiled.
'Who are you?', she asked.
'Diane. Is this your room?'.
'Yes, Mother is dead, and Father too'.
'I'm sorry'.
'It's fine. Karen Amberson'.
'That's a pretty name'.
'Is it?'.
'I hope so. May I come inside, Karen?'.
'You are in my room'.
'Of course'.
'Anna is my sister. She's in Dublin, Ireland'.
'I see'.
'See the horse'.
'Yes'.
'Granmother got it for me'.
'That's good'.
'She's in London'.
'Not too far away'.
'No', Karen said.
She rocked back and forth, then the door closed behind them.
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The room was full of people.
Lady Rowena waited, and decided enough was enough. She hadn't imagined Lord Nathaniel's death was an accident; she hadn't investigated faith-based deaths by magic; she was concerned about what the Bishop would say. Evidence, he said. Yes; yes, evidence. She had to concentrate. The door opened. 'My Lady, how are you today?', Quentin Marlowe asked. 'I didn't know you were here, Warlock', Lady Rowena answered.
'Others don't like me'.
'I have problems with your kind of magic'.
'I don't have the time to deal with that, my Lady'.
'And the point is...'.
'The point is nothing'.
'Nothing'.
'Yes, my kind of arcane magic is dangerous'.
'Dangerous'.
'I have the Grimoire'.
Lady Rowena's face blanched.
'Get rid of it'.
And the Warlock bowed, opened the door, and left her alone.
Tom A Marre walked towards the Chamber of Sorrows. He waited, then he knew what was going on, as other worsippers prepared for the New Dawn.
Cara waited for the bell to ring.
She had been asleep for five hours.
The dreams of the past came back again.
The last time Daniel Gorman reached the point of no return was yesterday. He walked to the Arched Bridge. Other people ignored him, and the tales of goblins was known to him.
David watched the mirror.
It was a bleak night.
He yawned, and waited for sleep to overtake his body.
***
Mara attended the Catholic Church.
She saw Father McNally.
'Father, what is wrong?', Mara asked him.
'Nothing', Father McNally answered.
'Something is wrong', Mara said.
He sighed, and preyed to God.
Culloch was armed with a spell book.
It spoke in the elven language, and waited for the magic to begin.
It was cold.
Seamus waited.
He looked worried.
Candles burned brightly.
He watched the ceremony begin.
Afterwards, he knew what was going on.
He ran into the Forest of Dreams.
The Princess rode towards the Vale of Darkness.
She was eager to tell Elf Queen Margarethe the truth.
That Quentin Marlowe was evil.
She watched the Forest of Darkness.
Rain started to fall.
And she waited for the dark to leave.
The shadows hovered above the city of London. People weren't using magic spells because they didn't believe in arcane magic; magic that was practiced over the last couple of years.
Rain started to fall, and chaos happened.
Mara was awake.
She heard the bell.
It was time for prayers.
She didn't want to be disturbed, and welcomed the silence.
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Time stood still.
Marsten Klob stood by the water fountain.
He reached for the water, and drank it eagerly.
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