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Allan ran his finger over the cover one more time before putting it softly on the desk to look at the first page. And then the second. The printed words weren't done on a major printer, there was no ISBN or things like that.
Allan flipped through a few more pages. The information on the pages looked like he was reading a fantasy book. Allan laughed,"We are sure these aren't crazy people." He read further. "Does everyone get to read books like this?" He blinked his eyes and kept reading. "How do you have this?"
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Nikolai was comfortable in the chair, draped in his robe and sleek lounge pants, accustomed to stealing away precious moments of contemplation in the very spot. To share the space with worthy company was the extraordinary circumstance of the day, and personally, quite thrilling a night for Nikolai.
Allan’s accounting of the book’s contents could not be more accurate. It resulted in a rare chuckle from the Ascendancy. “Any sane man would agree. It’s lunacy. That’s the premise upon which the Atharim existed unnoticed for thousands of years. The power of the Catholic church contained the rest: heresy, witchcraft, possession.”
Nikolai watched Allan’s exploration with burning eyes. Something about this book dredged long-dead ashes of his soul, sparking something alive that he thought to be forever cold. Allan’s question had a definitive answer, but it wasn’t easy to explain.
He tapped the arm of the chair, thoughtfully. The other hand tapped his lips. “Turn to page sixty and read the passage titled, Dreyken.”
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09-16-2020, 04:20 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-16-2020, 04:21 PM by Allan.)
Allan flipped to the requested page and ran his fingers over the title. 'Dreyken'
Such an odd name for a creature. Allan started reading the words and blinked several times as he saw the horribleness of the creature.
"Read the passage about their claws. Aloud."
Allan kept reading and when he out to the requested passage he was "heir translucent skin does not sweat and their hair and nails grow thick and wild. Their pupils are always dilated, flared nearly to the edges of their eyes surrounded by thin sickles of colored irises. For this reason, bright light is extremely painful for them and nearly blinding. The defect leaves their skin ice cold, their nails are as claws, and they feed on warm living flesh to survive (human preferably), shredding raw meat with their vicious claws."
Allan read a little further frowning. "This creature reminds me of the classic comic book hero wolverine with added effect of the feeding of living flesh. Horrible creatures. Why would anyone think this was a good thing to let out in the world?"
And then Allan turned to the Ascendancy. "Do you think this is what happened with the creatures Nox's speaks of? The dangerous ones we go to kill soon?"
[[ Nik modded with permission/request ]]
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Wolverine? The word was vaguely familiar. He wasn’t fond of comics even when the genre reached its height of popularity. He’d not been a fan of movies in general, preferring the serenity of books over film. It was part of the reason he was rather isolated in high school, especially after the switch from public to private education where academic progress was revered more than social prowess. It wasn’t without a small sense of smug approval that his long-lost classmates now likely marveled at the identity of the world’s most powerful man.
The question about motive was certainly reasonable, but Allan was a student of philosophy. Such questions should not disarm his consciousness. To ponder the very existence of everything – man, god, beast, and all the things in between – was kit and kin to the mind of a philosopher. In this case, however, Nikolai had a specific answer.
“Dreyken were bred. Imagine the scope and scale that modern science can manipulate genomes. At our disposal, we can create, evolve, transform, and design infinite microbiological lifeforms. It was at that sort of scale the old gods were able to breed creatures to do their bidding, or so the legend says. The proof is before us now,” Nikolai’s gaze turned toward the fire. The reflection flickered in the globes of his eyes. It wasn’t the first time he considered the potential: resurrecting old ways to put to modern use. It seemed someone else had beat him to the idea, someone insane, but he was successful. Nox’s creatures were the result, but if it was done before, it could be replicated, next time to better results.
“The dreyken were bred to have superior eyesight. Indeed they do, but there were side-effects unforeseen by their reckless makers. The creatures are blood-thirsty killers now, unable to be tamed or controlled. The only hope is to slaughter them all and try again, and so the old gods tried over and over. Their failed experiments fill the pages of that book. Their successful ones should bring a shudder to your bones. The Ijiraq was one.” Nik did not need to imagine. He knew first-hand how terrible the assassin of smoke and mist could be.
“Nox’s monsters seem to be different than anything to be found in there, except for some details that mimic components of various beasts. They must be a hybrid of sorts, and as such, are much more fearsome than their lineage suggests.”
With a heavy exhale, Nik returned his focus to his guest, and pulled up the sleeve of his robe. It was wide enough to push above the elbow, and he wore no shirt beneath it. The arm, his left arm, was puckered with old scars. Lines that healed deep. The very, very astute may notice that he was slightly deficient in the use of his left hand, during the finest of finger movements, but that could be assumed to be related to a dominant right. He watched closely for Allan to put the pieces together.
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The words were horrifying. Why would anyone want to create these creatures as weapons? Whatever possessed them to turn humans into things like this must have been a horrific war. But the history of man wasn't ever pretty. We were barbarians.
But it wasn't the words in the book that had Allan's jaw on the floor. The puckered and slashed scar, the same insignia faded on the Ascendancy's skin. A secret organization marked by the snake eating its own tail -- and the Ascendancy... Allan's voice came out a raspy whisper, "You were one of them?" But he wasn't now.
Allan's eyes moved up to meet the Ascendancy's gaze. "What happened? I don't expect they just let you go." Was it a case of his being able to channel or was there something more? Allan knew the Ascendancy had many secrets but to be part of the very cult that was hunting him, and others like him.. That he had not expected.
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Allan was disgusted, and he had every right to be. Perhaps it was the forty years to think about it, but Nikolai derived greater amusement in the shock of others than other horrific contemplations. War was always savage. What would their descendants say of nuclear bombs? What would they say of the weapons currently woven beneath Kola peninsula? Dreyken were amateurish experiments in comparison. A more harrowing question was where the gods of old found the flesh to experiment upon in the first place.
Allan’s gauzy whisper and blood-drained cheeks curdled intimately of fear, though Nikolai was certain that fear was not directed at him. He waved him closer. “Sit here,” he gestured nearer himself. He wanted to see the fire reflecting in the blacks of those eyes.
He answered plainly. The weight of it decayed in an old grave, but the stench of betrayal still lingered on his voice. “Yes I was, a long time ago. Tomorrow, I’ll show you the weave that incinerated three Dreyken where they stood,” he said, laying his hand across his arm, their screams terrorizing his memory. Soon after, he tugged the sleeve back to the wrist.
“You may read the book if you still desire, but it may not leave this room,” he said with all the promise of punishment for any breech of Nikolai’s trust, but they knew the threat was little more than idle chat. Allan wouldn’t betray him. Not now. “Well?”
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Allan did as he was instructed and sat closer. There was fear but there was anger and other feelings that Allan didn't know. And the prospect of learning a weave like that was more impressive. Allan could almost feel the heat of such a weave in his imagination. The Ascendancy offered to read the book but it couldn't leave. He laughed. "Does that mean I can stop by when I want to?" That alone would be make the other guys envious, they wouldn't care about the contents of the book but they should. What other secrets could the book could should. "I would love to learn the weave and anything else you could teach me. As well as read the book, can I take notes?"
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Nikolai gave Allan credit for the questions. There were a variety of options to arrange the visits
“I’m sure you can work some arrangements when you’re interested in a boring story. Take as many notes as you want,” he said.
What was the fascination with the book? Was Nikolai so far-removed from the discovery that the concept was mundane to him now? Even the fear of the Dreyken’s red smile was faded to the distance of time. He was once enthralled by the notion of monsters and men, that life was more than just what was.
Allan’s genuine enchantment was beguiling, and watching the young discover the unknown for the first time was an unexpected thrill. A stirring coaxed within, like the disturbance of ashes long formed to death’s shape.
Perhaps the hunt with Nox was exactly the sort of distraction Nikolai needed right now.
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