A Sorceress From the Future

Chapter Eight

“This is not what was supposed to happen! You assured me-“

“I never assured you anything Dawson…I simply did what you asked of me…”

Dawson was currently staring daggers at the small cracked mirror in his pudgy palm. The reflection that was staring back at him wore a bored expression which angered Dawson further. This eerie meeting was, as usual, taking place inside his stark dark chambers. He had bolted the door shut as a precaution. If anyone in Chi were to discover his treacherous actions…Dawson shuddered visibly at the thought.

“This was the bargain. Kill the king, have Luke go rogue in search for your little band and I, the voice of reason, was to take over and rule this wretched kingdom!”

The reflection in the mirror c****d their head, their bored expression hardening.

“Little band? Do you know what the Ninth Order is capable of? Each one of us is powerful on their own but together, together we annihilate…The reason why any of you are still alive is because of our cowardly leader…She is the obstacle and that is why I also needed the King dead but of course, you humans always feel the need to act superior, better…now you are here rambling on about your problems, blaming me for your misfortune…”

Dawson gulped. He swiftly thought of words to calm his ally. Dawson had seen them in a bout of rage before. It was unpleasant, that night he had lost two faithful servants. One was still buried underneath his chambers.

“Calm down…I didn’t mean anything by it. Besides, there is still time…We can still end Matthias’ reign and after that, your people will be able to roam freely without any fear…”

The expression in the cracked mirror regarded Dawson coolly. Dawson squirmed under the intense gaze.

“Why don’t you just get me what we want? The only reason my kind fears Chi is because of what is in your possession. Without it your kingdom would be nothing but ashes as we speak…”

Dawson leaned back in his chair, the chuckle lodged in his throat threatening to escape.

“Yet you ask why I will not give it to you? The very thing that will grant you entrance into Chi? I might be reeking of avarice but I am not foolish…The only reason you wanted the king dead was so that his loyal, vengeful son could launch an official war against your kind and you could have an excuse to search for the vessel; the only thing that can destroy you and your people…”

The reflection, to Dawson’s surprise, smirked before initiating a slow daunting clap. Dawson’s free hand folded into a fist; he did not take kindly to being mocked.

“Well well, here I thought that you were simply a greedy man with no ounce of intelligence inside that brain of yours…The truth is, some of us are tired of hiding out in the shadows…our forefathers would be ashamed of us, rightly so too. Do you know how potent we are? We should be ruling these lands yet…humans, mere humans instilling fear on creatures that can create something out of absolutely nothing…You should be worshipping us, begging for your lives but between that wretched vessel and our weak, rigid leader, we have no choice but to sit in the shadows…Do you recall our last battle Dawson?”

Dawson shifted in his chair uncomfortably, he did remember. He was a child then, his best friend was still a prince. The King back then was a force to reckon with. It was he who had somehow acquired the vessel. Dawson had lost his hero that day yet his best friend’s father had lived on, dying of old age. Or so people thought.

“It was enthralling, that battle. My blood had pulsated with life, something that I yearn as we speak…I want to live Dawson…we were not created to simply lie in the shadows, upholding peace…By nature we are destructive…We are supposed to be fighting, wrecking, something, anything really! But our weak leader…she thinks that peace is the answer…living as one she calls it, using our gifts for good…Oh how I would love to use my gifts on her…but since I cannot…”

Dawson felt it before he saw it. His hands rushed to grab the arms of his chair as his head jerked back. He could feel the air in the room getting cold, his breath began to wheeze. His throat was beginning to constrict, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. Dawson was in mind-numbing pain.

“P-please…”

The reflection rotated their neck as would an owl. They were enjoying this. It had been a long time since they had tasted blood. Suffering brought them joy.

“I b-beg you…”

“Yes human, plead for your life…”

A mist began forming itself in Dawson’s chambers. The temperature swiftly lowered such that droplets of water trickled down the walls. Dawson’s face was currently purple, blood oozing from his ears.

“Listen carefully human…if you ever summon me in the name of scolding me, I will gladly watch life seep away from your veins…”

Dawson weakly bobbed his head. He felt as if his chest had been ignited on fire. Suddenly everything stopped. The pounding in his ear, the searing pain in his chest, the breathing constriction. Dawson leaned forward coughing ferociously.

“The girl, who is she?”

The image inside the mirror waited patiently for Dawson to recover. The mist was clearing, the cold dwindling. Dawson was quivering, he was both extremely terrified and desperately in need of warmth.

“The girl Dawson…”

Dawson blinked severally before his mind finally understood his ally’s question. He smacked his clammy lips together preparing his frozen mouth to speak.

“We do not know. Apparently, she appeared out of thin air, very much like your kind does…according to the guards, she is claiming to be from the future…”

The reflection in the mirror stroked their cheek. This suddenly felt like déjà vu all over again. The sound of approaching footsteps blared through the night air. Dawson quickly gathered his robes, nodded his head to the reflection and tossed the cracked mirror in its hidden place. The effect from the sorcery was still heavy on him. He felt fatigued and empty, like he had been dead and was only now being brought back to life.

“Father?”

Dawson slowly approached his lamp and lit it, his pudgy trembling hands failing at that small task.

“Father are you alright?”

Dawson wanted to scream that he would like to be left alone but his throat was still recovering. It was dry and raspy.

“Father I am coming in, I have news for you…the king has arranged a feast for the girl and all the council members are invited…”

Dawson approached the door, detached the lock and swung the it open revealing his son in the doorway. As usual, his son’s boyish charm and warm demeanor made him want to hurl. He had never met someone so gullible in his entire life.

“Lawrence, son! Tell me about this feast? What time is it again?”