The Brotherhood of the Abyss

CHAPTER III – Saint Jude

The air is still misty when Duncan sets out the next day. At seven in the morning the bus going to Saint Jude will leave and he still has an hour to spare. Duncan could have made things easier and use his magic instead, but he is enough with enchantments. It is still too early and the local taxi won’t start their daily operation until six thirty in the morning, so he had to walk all the way to the station. But today he is in luck.

Suddenly he began to pick up a disturbance in the air indicating the presence of someone around here. Unlike ordinary humans Duncan’s kinds have the ability to sense living creatures. Right now he could tell that another member of the Order is about to arrive, and sure enough a car stops by giving Duncan a friendly honk of its horn. Inside is a very familiar person of Duncan’s age. He had dark brown hair and a friendly face though a prominent scar is visible on the bridge of his nose.

“Hop in Duncan,” he said.

And seeing that he won’t take no for an answer Duncan then board his vehicle. He takes the backseat first before moving at the front seat upon the driver’s insistence.

“Since we’re going on the same way I might as well take you with me,” he smiled.

“Thank you Clause,” Duncan replied.

“No problem.”

For the first half an hour of their trip the two never said a word to each other. The only thing Duncan did is to watch the view in the window flashes past him. Clause understands that Duncan is a very quiet person but he cannot take the undesirable silence.

“Just bought this car last week, I will be taking this for a spin in the highlands,” said Clause just to break the silence. This did little to enliven the introvert Duncan; he just gave Clause the look that says that’s nice.

“Took me five years to invest on this one, I took extra jobs whenever we have time to spare.”

Duncan’s sole reply is a nod. After that Clause ran out of things to say. In his surprise Duncan then mentioned, “Our house …”

“Excuse me?”

“In Saint Jude we had an ancestral home along an old watch tower. It needs to be checked.”

Smiling, Clause replied, “well our home is not in this World and it was my second Uncle who looks after it.”

“You’re from a neighbouring World?”

“Yup, our clan lives in this manor house beside the ruins of a castle. There is magic in our World but I like yours’ much better.”

“You do know how dull life's here,” said Duncan while watching a group of tired looking office workers get home from their nightly shift.

“That is why it is so fascinating. I mean how you folks manage without magic and HEY YOU!”

Clause made a heavy swerve to avoid a speeding motorcycle.

“Those fool, charging without a helmet. Hah! Serves you right,” said Clause loudly as the driver of that motorcycle was pulled over by an enforcer.

“Motorcycles, I used to want one until Father had a fight with a street racer. You should see what my Father did to that poor thing,” Duncan mentioned.

“I heard that your dad works as an archivist in the Order.”

“Yes, so is my Mother. I’m the first in the family to take on combat related duties.”

“What made you decide then,” Clause asked as they cross the tollbooth.

“Actually, I don’t know. Call that rash decision.”

“Well, it’s family tradition in my case; my clan are known professional soldiers.”

“So it’s not your decision to become a member.”

“Not exactly, I was once offered a job as an armourer in the Order but I thought it was too boring. And I always wanted to fight in the battlefield like my forefathers,” said Clause impressively.

“I envy you. At least you have good reason.”

“What do you mean?”

“As I said before joining the Order was a hasty decision for me. I jumped in without thinking. Just look what happened now, I mean...”

Duncan briefly went silent. Clause also knew that Duncan had killed a girl and is unsure now on what to say.

“We have heard of it from Kane, our Captain. I wasn’t there so I’m not here to judge but on the way I see it you just did what you must. It seems unavoidable to me.”

“It was avoidable if not for my ego.”

“But at least you don’t end up like me.”

Duncan gave Clause a surprised look.

“You know in my first mission,” Clause moves on, “I’m a total mess. I got terribly sick after I killed my first man. I’m throwing out everywhere and ends up badly traumatized. My Investiture in the Order was on hold for a year because I need to get a therapy.”

Duncan finds this hard to belief. He always looks up to Clause and most of their team members as unbreakable.

“You’re kidding,” said the astonished Duncan.

“Monsters like us have feelings too,” chuckled Clause. This made Duncan smile and it felt better. Clause offers Duncan some sandwiches which they eat merrily as the view around them starts to change. They began their trip in the confines of the polluted suburbs which gave way to the open space of the freeway, where only the speeding vehicles are visible. One at a time trees began to show up followed by hills as they enter the edge of the countryside. The road starts to elevate, tilting a bit more in every mile they take. The mist too continues to thicken.

“And another thing,” Duncan said after gulping a mouthful of ham and chicken, “You didn’t do anything to this car, do you?”

He points at the fuel gauge that reads empty though they are cruising at high speed.

“I did a few touches you know. Gasoline costs a fortune and we don’t want to ruin the fresh mountain air,” Clause chuckled.

The fog recedes a bit soon as their vehicle reaches the high ground of the mountainside road. And a view of breath-taking proportion is revealed. On their right side are dark mountains crowned with splotches of clouds, overshadowing the great lake on their left. The early morning sun gave the lake a fiery hue as the volcano peering out of its midst spew steams. It is like a primordial world, a secret realm untouched by man. Duncan and Clause had seen the most bizarre of environments but they agree that nothing compares to this.

“Locals often say that a giant serpent lives there,” Duncan mentioned.

The road went higher and three massive mountains with strange shapes appeared.

“Mount Aedina, Raina and Urduja,” said Duncan while pointing at the mountains.

“Strange names those mountains had.”

“Yup, those mountains are named after the three mythical nature spirits of the forests around Saint Jude. Now, observe...”

By the light of the dawn the outlines of the mountains becomes defined.

“The mountains do resemble like reclining women,” said Clause in awe.

“And no one had seen their western sides before. People are careful not to venture close to the mountains due to the thick fog and for the fear of the Nature Spirits.”

An hour passes and a signpost of a granite club appears.

“That’s the symbol of Saint Jude, we are near,” Duncan reminded. Not too soon they reach the gateway marking the entrance to Duncan’s beloved town.

“Here we are, the ancient walled town of Saint Jude,” said Duncan proudly.

“Looks interesting, let’s go in there.”

But with face reddening Duncan politely refuses.

“Maybe next time Clause, I need to go in there alone. You know for some personal matters. I’m sorry.”

Clause gave Duncan a friendly tap on the shoulder.

“I understand but please promise me one thing. Your place makes the best strawberry jam, mind bringing some?”

This made the once overly serious Duncan smile.

“Certainly,” he assured.

There is a rush of cool mountain air as Duncan steps out from Clause’s vehicle. Before they part he asked Clause one last thing.

“Clause, you said earlier that killing your first man had traumatized you, yet you didn’t quit the Order.”

“I told you before that I want to be like my forefathers. I must carry on the tradition of my family in the battlefield. And besides, there are people we must protect.”

And the two bid each other farewell with Clause’s words continuously reverberating in Duncan’s head.

***

“I have been away for too long,” Duncan whispered to himself after entering the gates of his beloved hometown. Everything around here had changed. Saint Jude is no longer the humble place he knew. He is now looking at a bustling city, where as far as the eye could see every corner teems with shops, stores and commercial establishments. The place is alive with tourists, students or ordinary people alike doing their shopping or sight-seeing. Newly built structures like tall buildings could be seen at a distance and proud architectural landscapes had reshaped much of the view.

Saint Jude is now so prosperous, so evolved, and so different. Yet beyond the modern façade, the old Saint Jude still lives on, as Duncan noted while making an early survey of the city.

Saint Jude is the place where past and present had merged. For one thing gasoline powered vehicle is not that common. The inhabitants had fought well to minimize these smoke belching monsters and Duncan had to contend himself with a horse driven carriage. The ride is bumpy but enjoyable for the road still uses cobbled stones. Around the city ancient structures share their places among modern buildings, like century old houses, ruins of arches, statues of heroes and water fountains. And dominating the skyline is the Cathedral of Saint Jude, a massive four spired Gothic building overlooking the now polished Town Square. Time seems to go back many years ago, when his family will go there to hear the Sunday Mass. And during lunch time, his father will take them to a famous food stop run by an Order of Nuns. Duncan will then spend the remainder of the day playing and frolicking in the Town Square.

“I should buy a souvenir for my parents once I get back,” Duncan said to himself.

And with mood uplifted and heart leaping with joy, Duncan then spends the whole morning going to places he fondly remembers as a child, like the University of Saint Jude. Seeing it inspires fantasies of an alternate reality, where a very different Duncan will be standing here had his dream of studying there came true. And there is also the old cafeteria ran by a family friend and the lamp post where his father had pulverized that noisy street racer. And there is the library, the gymnasium, the uphill shrine of Saint Jude and many more. Suddenly the chaos of the battlefield seems miles away. The feeling of overflowing joy is hard to contain and Duncan felt more alive than ever, as if for the first time he is a full human.

Shortly after lunchtime, Duncan heads out to an old neighbourhood near the remnants of an ancient watchtower. The scent of the air is welcoming and unlike most of the places in Saint Jude, this neighbourhood is still unchanged.

“Now where is our house,” said Duncan while consulting the map his father gave him. As what’s indicated, their house should be here in an empty lot where a dead maggot infested tree stood.

“I’m here,” he whispered, and the protective enchantment making the house invisible is deactivated. A simple two storey building now looms over Duncan. There is nothing magical or special about this house, just another old dwelling place you could find anywhere in this neighbourhood.

“Hello there Duncan,” several people greeted him, as if he had been with them this whole time. It seems that the protective enchantment also had mind altering effects on the townspeople. No one in Saint Jude is aware that Duncan been gone for years. Finally with a satisfied smile, Duncan proceeds into the house feeling home at last.

***

Duncan woke up early next morning both to savour his first day in Saint Jude, and to finish a few articles. For a part time job, and to relax his mind Duncan works as a freelance writer for several online magazines

“What’s this,” Duncan muttered after reading the email in his laptop. His editor had asked him to compose an essay about dating and relationship. Unable to come up with any ideas, Duncan decided to do his work outside, in a newly opened cafeteria where the lively atmosphere might help him think.

“This is a tough one,” Duncan muttered while fiddling mindlessly with his laptop. Even after choosing the best seat in the cafeteria (next to a window), and eating his way through several helpings of bacon and eggs, nothing seems to enter his mind. The problem is Duncan never had any serious relationships during his teenage years. He simply had no idea what proper dating should be. A womanizer chasing girls is all the unromantic Duncan could think of.

To refresh his mind, Duncan briefly closes his eyes. The cafeteria is getting crowded and noisy, better if he move to somewhere else more private. Duncan then hastily closes his laptop and pays for his very large meal which now includes pancakes and milkshakes.

“I do long distance marathon,” he explained to the giggling waitress who is eyeing the large pile of dishes on his table with amusements.

“That explains it. Most of our customers here rarely finish a plate. We even have one who will come here just to paint.”

She pointed behind her, in an empty table where an unfinished painting was left to dry.

“Amazing,” Duncan exclaimed. He is so struck by the beauty of the painting he gave the grateful waitress a substantial tip.

“This is the Urduja’s Hollow,” he said to himself while examining the curious artwork. The Urduja’s Hollow is a heavily forested area outside Saint Jude, a misty wilderness visible from the windows of the cafeteria. Its most striking feature is the trees with strange coloured leaves. When seen from above, the forest would resemble an artist’s pallet. It’s a landscape with splashes of auburn, red, orange, and yellow.

“It still needs a lot of work though,” said Duncan while observing the painting. There are still rough lines and splashes of paint that Duncan assumed to be trees. Duncan wishes to meet its maker to shake his hand but a sweet scent of woman’s perfume fills the air.

“You like it,” said a playful voice coming from behind. Duncan turned and there is a girl there, a girl his height and age. Her hair falls just below her nape and she sports horned rimmed glasses. Her face is alive with a sweet and warm smile.

“Well, y-yeah,” Duncan said nervously.

“I painted it, took me quite a long time and it is not yet finished,” she smiled.

“Well, you know, just giving it a check,” Duncan muttered.

Duncan began to stare at a spot between his shoes. His hands start to get sweaty.

“Something wrong mister,” the girl smiled.

“It’s just a bit warm here,” mumbled Duncan even though the mountain air blowing around is ice cold.

The girl is unable to say anything for she is fighting the urge to laugh.

“Feeling nervous are we,” the girl said then.

“Nervous? Not really.”

“Relax Mister I won’t bite,” the girl managed to say amid her attempts to suppress a laugh, “and I see you love my painting here.”

“Oh the painting,” said Duncan while trying to regain his composure.

“Yes, you like it?”

“Well, yes. It is a fine work of art actually.”

“Thank you Mister. I will be hanging this to the city library once it is finished. And is there something wrong?”

“Huh, not at all,” said Duncan coolly.

“Really, your hands seem to be shaking,” the girl chuckled.

“I injured my hands on my way here, I slipped.”

“Both hands, you’re a clumsy type?”

And before he could say yes, the girl grabs his left hand to examine it. It’s an odd sensation. Strange warmth seems to be rushing from where her palm touches his skin.

“And I forgot, we’re never been properly introduced. The name is Claire. I work as a historian in the library. And you are…”

“I’m Duncan,” he replied.

“Oh Duncan nice meeting you,” Claire merrily greeted. She still had his hand in her firm grip.

“Err, nice meeting you too Claire,” mumbled Duncan awkwardly, almost dropping his laptop tucked under his right arm.

“Oops,” said Duncan loudly, “what would my editor say if the thing broke?”

“You’re a writer aren’t you?”

“Yes, I work freelance for a teen magazine.”

“That’s great, so what’s your preferred subject?”

“Depending on what my editor asks me,” answered Duncan.

“You must be good then. I tried sending essays once, but they got rejected,” said Clara sounding amazed.

This made Duncan’s face burn brilliant red.

“Thank you,” said Duncan reddening, “and the painting… I mean you paint well.”

“Oh, I just love to paint, that’s all,” she chuckled.

Claire removes her glasses and Duncan thought she had beautiful eyes.

“Something wrong Duncan,” Claire asked after seeing him stare blankly.

“Err-nothing,” Duncan said nervously, and Claire laughed

“Sorry about that, hope you’re not offended,” she smiled.

“It’s okay.”

“Honestly you’re a fascinating person Duncan, quite different from the many people I met, and that reminds me.”

She turned at the wilderness visible at the window.

“Mind if I share you a story,” Claire asked.

“Go on then,” Duncan replied.

“Do you know it was once believed that there is a castle in the middle of Urduja’s Hollow? I try telling this to my friends and they thought I have spent too much time in the library.”

“Really, I love to hear it.”

But Claire hastily grabbed her ringing phone to answer the message she received.

“Sorry Duncan but not now, got some things to settle in the library,” she said while scooping her things and her painting on the table, “and Duncan, thank you.”

“Thank you for what?” Duncan asked. But again Claire grabs his hand to give him a calling card and a small packet of something.

“This is a special tea for curing nervousness,” Clara chuckled, “and when you have time, you can pay me a visit in the library.”

As she left, Claire throws Duncan a kiss, a common friendly gesture among young women in Saint Jude. Overall it felt kind of odd to meet someone like her. Talking to a girl brings in a strange sort of feeling that is so hard to explain.

***

The days go by pleasantly and peacefully and life was never been so blissful. Each morning, Duncan will do a bit of leisurely walk as he basks in the early morning sun. He will then do his articles by noon and unwinds by reading the books he procured from the nearest book stop (somehow he felt too conscious to visit the library). And before he knew it a week had already passed.  At some point the routines are becoming repetitive, if not boring. But given a choice he would prefer a dull life over an adventurous, but bloody existence. At least you don’t get to see people dying in front of you.

And Duncan should have known that pleasant things in life are too good to last, as the coming of Thursday had shown.

That clear Thursday morning, as Duncan heads out for a walk to come up with ideas for his next article, he began to feel something odd. The specialized sense made to detect living entities is warning him of an approaching peril. Danger is lurking somewhere here, an unknown form of evil possessing strong and malevolent magic.

As if his insides start to swirl. Here in his hometown, the place of his childhood and where he spent his remaining years as human, evil had reared its ugly head. How dare they desecrate his beloved Saint Jude! Suddenly his training in the Order kicks in. Casually Duncan blends in among the crowd to find the source of that dark magic. At every step the scent grew stronger, indicating the source is nearby. And then he sees it; hovering above them fathoms high in the air are two gigantic blurred shadows. One is elongated and finned; it bears a strong resemblance to a winged whale. A large human shaped silhouette bigger than an ultra-light plane flies along its side. Duncan’s hands ball into fists. Those are weapons of war from another World. The whale shaped one is the Windsprite, a form of a flying boat while the one with the human shape is an Iron Beast.

“But what are they doing in this non-magical place,” Duncan asked himself, but the answer will have to wait. Danger is now flying over a crowded city and if the need arises, he had no choice but to fight. For now he had to forget his woes about his tragic past. Crying over a mistake that happened more than a year ago won’t help in this scenario. There are people he must protect. Clause’s words then come to his mind. But it’s strange how people seems to be unaffected by the weird apparition above them. The people around go about their business with the objects flying in the air going unnoticed. The objects must be invisible then. Invisibility spells are always used for military equipment. Or maybe they are illusions that only he could see.

“Let’s find out then,” Duncan said to himself. Through his will, he conjures a spell which will allow him to see through solid objects. Suddenly everything around him looks transparent, like hazy glass sculptures. He could even see the people scurrying around the insides of buildings like tiny ants. But the flying objects only appear as empty shadows, as if they are just insubstantial images from a projector.

“They are only False Spectres,” Duncan muttered.

False Spectres, as what Duncan called them are blurry images of objects from another World which became visible when the barriers separating the many Worlds to each other weaken. Generally they are harmless and invisible to normal humans, which explain the people’s indifference towards the flying objects above them. And sure enough the two False Spectres then zooms meekly westward before vanishing.

It took Duncan several minutes to get over with the shock of seeing alien objects flying over a crowded street. With a huge sigh, Duncan leaves the place but stopped after a few paces and looks back at the patch of sky where the objects appeared. What if the False Spectres is a sign of something more sinister?

It can’t be!” Duncan said to himself, knowing that those are no more than harmless illusion caused by very rare phenomena and only visible to a trained eye. Finally he walks away, trying to convince himself all is well.