The Children of Light
Book Two
Chapter Twelve
This piece of fiction contains supernatural themes and sexual interactions between consenting male adults. Please do not read this if it is illegal where you are, or you are not of age to do so.
All characters are fictional and any similarities to known actual people are coincidental, unless otherwise specified.
Visit the blog to see visualisations of the characters throughout the story. As always your feedback is important and always welcome.
Lachlan - [email protected] or [email protected]
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The small framed man knelt on the grass for several long moments, his hands in his lap; the fingers curled slightly, his eyes haven't quite focussed on them. A single tear fell from the right eye and fell between clawed hands, landing silently on a blade of grass.
His vision began to focus and he saw the solitary tear, sitting motionless atop a blade of grass, weighted down by the foreign weight. He focussed on the tear drop and watched as the surface tension of the tear began to ripple, as if a constant force of movement was shaking nearby.
The transparent bead of water began shaking violently as the surface tension lost the fight against the movement, tearing apart as the water spilled out and over the blade of grass, disappearing in the soil beneath.
Hands shaking with uncontrollable rage, the Leader was now standing, his feet apart, the toes of each foot curled under, clawing into the earth, even as every muscle in his body vibrated with uncontrollable fury.
Lachlan looked up, fixing his eyes on the sun which was at this point setting in the distant horizon. The Leader’s eyes, naturally pale blue, began glowing bright yellow, his pupil’s pinpoints of white. It was as if he saw nothing, as if he were looking into the distance unseeingly. His body shuddered violently with suppressed fury.
The grassy meadow where he stood began to fade as he returned to reality, the astral plane vanishing around him, almost as quickly as Rama’s projection had.
‘Lachlan?’ Alex asked from somewhere near his side. The Leader, standing still in the middle of his living room, was still shaking with anger, his eyes fixed unblinkingly upon something in the extreme distance, not seeing, still glowing bright yellow.
‘Are you alright?’ Alex asked cautiously as he shuffled around the Leader, to stand in front of him. He looked into the face of the small framed man and shrunk back in fear. The normally serene and pleasant expression of the Leader was now a dark and waxy mask of emptiness; a visual representation of the hollowness within.
‘QUINN!’ Alex shouted in fear. ‘QUINN!’ Shaking with fear, the Italian telepathically shouted to the twins. Quinn appeared in the hallway, a sheet pulled around himself in an effort to cover his nakedness.
‘What the…?’ The blond asked nervously once he saw Lachlan, standing in the middle of the living room. Quinn saw not only the barely restrained vibrations of the man’s body, but an aura of bright light radiating from within. ‘Lachlan, what’s happened?’
The Leader turned to look at the person who had just spoken, recognising the familiar sound. Quinn felt uneasy with the empty look in the man’s eyes, the brightness difficult to look into.
‘He has been taken from me.’ An echoing voice stated, an emotional hollowness resonating; Quinn and Alex unsure if it were the Leader speaking at all.
‘Who has been?’ Quinn asked, moving closer to the trembling Leader, his hand extended cautiously.
‘My Rama.’ Lachlan said softly, his eyes dimming slightly, just enough that Quinn could see the black of his pupils. ‘He killed him.’ Alex was standing just behind his husband, a look of shock plastered on his face. Quinn had a hand to his mouth, stifling his own display of shock.
‘Who?’ Alex asked quietly. Lachlan’s face turned to the Italian, startling Alex slightly, and any resemblance of Lachlan vanished before them as the darkness took over.
‘William.’ The echoing voice stated loudly as the walls of the cabin shook, as if an earthquake had struck.
Before Alex or Quinn could ask another question, an explosion of light erupted from the shaking body of the Leader, the room immediately filling with large flames of white, the heat of which began to burn the exposed skin of the Italian and Canadian as they were tossed against the walls, as if they were mere rag dolls.
The structural integrity of the cabin began to fail as wave after wave of energy erupted from the Leader. The walls began to crack under the pressure, the support beams groaned under duress and finally splintering. Alex, barely able to retain consciousness against the exploding energy, waved a hand toward the guest bedroom where Nikolai and Callum lay sleeping. He created as strong a shield as he could around the bed and using his remaining strength, pushed the bed through the external wall and as far away from the cabin as he could.
A final wave of energy pulsed from the Leader and the cabin exploded in a hurricane of flame; the walls, roof and floor all splintering with deafening creaks of protest as they were torn to shreds and tossed in every direction in tiny fragments.
Jaden, with his brother right behind him, were heading for the Leader’s cabin, as they were caught in the explosion, both men thrown a dozen feet backward and landing heavily on their backs; large divots of earth flying from where their bodies impacted with the ground.
‘ALEX?’ The twins heard from somewhere nearby in the darkness. Callum had extracted himself from the bed and was staggering towards the remnants of the cabin calling out for his cousin. ‘ALEX?’
Caiden sat up with a loud groan, placing his hands on the earth behind him to hold himself up and looked with blurred vision toward the smouldering remnants of Lachlan’s cabin.
Alex and Quinn were both slammed into a very hard and immovable stone floor, both men partially stunned from the impact, a small cloud of dust swirling from their impact. Even with closed eyes Quinn could see the bright flames dissipate around him. With every ounce of energy he could muster, the blond hauled himself up onto his hands and knees, shaking his head to remove the dizzying effect of his sudden impact. On hands and knees, he staggered about trying to find his husband and felt arms wrapping around him from above. Alex lifted the blond upward and held him tight to his chest.
‘Are you alright?’ The Italian whispered in panic.
‘Dizzy.’ The blond replied pressing his face against the hard slab of tensed pectoral. ‘Where are we?’
‘I don’t know.’ Alex said nervously. ‘But we didn’t teleport here. It felt like we were dragged here, at speed.’ Still holding his husband to him, Alex shuffled slowly toward the middle of the room where a stone table was covered with odd objects. He walked around the table cautiously and saw a man with long, dark hair, kneeling on the dusty floor, the curtain of dark hair hiding the man’s face from view. Alex took a few more steps and saw that the kneeling man was leaning over a body, lying sprawled on the floor in a puddle of dark blood.
‘Please wake up.’ The Italian heard Lachlan whisper softly, sobbing gently. ‘Please come back.’
Alex, still holding his husband to himself, stepped toward his leader and friend, and caught a sudden movement in the corner of his eye. Even as he turned to see what it was, the Leader had erupted into flames and extended a hand toward the movement, the expressionless mask of a face still looking down at the fallen body of his husband. Alex, following the gigantic column of flame that somehow seemed an extension of Lachlan’s arm, saw a person pinned to the stone wall, a fiery claw holding the man motionless.
‘William?’ Alex gasped with shock when he recognised the person. William Braddock was trying desperately to free himself from the Leader’s hold, struggling in vain.
‘You tiny, insignificant speck of filth.’ A deep and echoing voice said, somehow amplified beyond normal volume, chilling both Alex and Quinn with fear. The Italian and his husband both turned to look at Lachlan, who was now standing; the gigantic Firebird emanating from his body, the wings spread and spanning the entire width of the large chamber they were in, the head of the majestic bird leaning down and toward the man, held against the wall by the claw of its right foot which surrounded and somehow extended from the arm of the Leader.
‘What’s the matter? Did I kill your husband?’ William sneered viciously, a maniacal smile lingering about his mouth, his eyes bulging obscenely. ‘Dirty faggot.’
Alex, releasing his husband, had launched himself toward his cousin, with the intention of tearing the disgusting human limb from limb. The right wing of the Firebird had lowered and caught the Italian, lifting him bodily from the floor and standing him on his feet, beside his husband. The head of the Firebird turned and looked down at the Italian and somehow seemed to bow to him.
‘Thank you friend, but I will take care of this.’ The deep voice resonated in the room, the sound pressing into their ear drums, as if they were being crushed under the pressure of being in deep water.
‘Ha!’ William laughed abruptly. ‘Hurry up and kill me.’
The phoenix turned its attention back to William, whom, despite his psychopathic façade, shivered with fear.
‘Soon.’ The deep voice announced as the phoenix’s beak opened and screeched a loud and quavering note of terror. Alex and Quinn slapped their hands to their ears in an effort to block out the sound and watched on in horror as William collapsed against the wall, unconscious. The claw holding the man to the wall released him and retracted as Lachlan lowered his arm, the Firebird itself shrinking slightly in size, now merely a few feet above the Leader’s head. The Leader turned on the spot and beckoned for Alex and Quinn to come closer. Alex wrapped an arm around his husband's shoulder and the two men approached cautiously, both completely naked, as the sheet that was wrapped around Quinn had been dissolved in flames earlier.
‘Are you alright?’ Quinn asked timidly when they were within a few feet.
‘No, he isn’t.’ The phoenix emanating from the Leader’s body said in its deep and vibrating voice. ‘Apologies, for I am not the person you know as Lachlan.’
‘Wait, what?’ Alex asked, looking from the blank mask-like face of the Leader up to the fiery head of the phoenix.
‘I am not Lachlan, and yet I am Lachlan. I am the living spirit that inhabits the same mind as him, he who is eternal.’ The Firebird replied, confusing Alex and Quinn even more.
‘What does that mean?’ Quinn asked gently.
‘I am the immortal part of Lachlan. The spirit that is eternal. I am the Spirit of the Sun.’ The Firebird said. Alex and Quinn both gasped in surprise; their mouth’s hanging open comically.
‘Spirit of the Sun?’ Alex asked curiously.
‘Yes.’ The Firebird answered, the head bobbing up and down slowly.
‘But what are you doing in there, in Lachlan?’ Quinn queried of the bird.
‘I am a part of him. I am him. He is me. I am immortality to his mortality. I am forever.’
‘Who are you?’ Alex asked, feeling lost already.
‘I am… the creator.’ The bird said, pausing slightly to find the easiest word to describe himself.
‘The creator?’ Alex questioned, still not following.
‘I am the Creator. The life bringer. That which burns and destroys, and that which brought you life.’ The Firebird answered. Quinn’s eyes bulged with understanding even as Alex’s face scrunched up trying to comprehend.
‘Alex.’ Quinn said, reaching out and putting a hand on his husband's shoulder, turning him around to face him. ‘That is the Sun. The Sun. The Spirit of the Sun.’ Quinn said pointing to the Firebird.
‘Yes.’ The phoenix agreed. ‘I am the Sun.’
Alex looked from his husband’s face up to the Firebird and finally understood.
‘You’re the Sun?’ Alex gasped quietly as the bird nodded again.
‘But, how?’ Quinn asked of the Sun spirit.
‘Another time. We have things that need to be done.’ The Firebird said in a sudden business-like manner. The Leader turned back to the body of his fallen husband and knelt again, his arms extended in front of himself, palms facing down to Rama.
‘What are you doing?’ Quinn asked in a mild panic, stepping forward quickly, now standing beside Lachlan.
‘Death is but an old friend who knows better than to try my patience.’ The Firebird said, a tinge of humour evident in the low, vibrating voice. Quinn looked at the body of Rama and saw the swirling golden light of his spirit beginning to collect together, preparing for departure.
‘Wait, you’re going to…?’ Quinn was cut off as flames erupted from the body lying on the floor, engulfing and surrounding Rama’s body, burning brighter than white. Alex and Quinn shielded their eyes, turning away as the fire consumed the remains of Rama Chadwick; the Firebird screeching eerily.
Over the dual toned screech of the Firebird, Quinn heard a faint crying, that of a newborn child. He turned back to the Leader and no longer saw Rama’s body. Below the Leader’s outstretched hands lay a baby, swaddled in a soft yellow blanket.
‘Is that…?’ Alex began.
‘…Rama?’ Quinn finished the question. The Firebird turned toward Alex and Quinn, Lachlan’s torso also turning with the movement.
‘He is reborn, and always will be, as I am. He is me. I am him. We are…’ The bird was unable to find the word to explain.
‘How is that even possible?’ Alex asked, his brow furrowed in deep thought.
‘Later. Please take him and keep him safe.’ The Firebird commanded firmly.
‘Wait, does Lachlan know?’ Quinn questioned the phoenix.
‘No. Nor will he ever.’ The bird said simply. ‘Take him to the twins. Keep him safe.’
The Firebird grew in size again as Quinn swooped down and collected the baby from the floor, keeping the soft blanket wrapped around it. The wings of the Firebird wrapped around the two men, Alex who had stepped in front of his husband protectively, Quinn holding the baby securely to his chest, and teleported them back to the Sanctuary, admittedly a lot more comfortably than their last journey.
‘ALEX? QUINN?’ The two men heard someone calling out. The Firebird had deposited the two men in the middle of the Gathering field.
‘ALEX?’ Callum bellowed loudly.
‘HERE!’ Alex shouted, letting them know where they were. ‘AND QUINN.’ The two men heard a thundering of footsteps as dozens of people ran toward them. Still standing in front of his husband, arms around him, Alex looked over his shoulder and saw Callum, Jaden, Caiden, Grayson, Tristan, Monica, Lillian, Nikolai, Johan, a few other mages and several other inhabitants of the Sanctuary barreling to them in a panic.
‘What happened?’
‘Where’s Lachlan?’
‘What’s going on?’
‘Are you alright?’
‘What’s going on?’
‘We need a moment.’ Alex said wearily, as the events of the past five minutes began to weigh heavily on him. ‘Please, just give us a moment.’
Quinn, whose shoulders were shaking with exhaustion turned from his husband and found himself looking straight into Caiden’s green eyes.
‘Who is…?’ The blond twin began, but didn’t finish.
‘I was told to give him to you and Jaden.’ Quinn said weakly, tears forming in his eyes.
‘But who is it?’ Caiden asked as he scooped the child into his arms deftly.
‘It’s… it’s…’ The blond twin scanned the thoughts of Quinn and recoiled in shock.
‘No way?’ Caiden asked, mostly to himself then anyone present. He looked down at the bundle in his arms and scanned the face of the baby carefully. ‘It… it looks nothing like him, but, I can sense him in there.’
‘Sense who?’ Jaden asked, stepping beside his brother and peering into the bundle of blanket.
‘Everyone, let’s all settle down and relax. Tristan, will you please get some clothes for these two. Monica can you gather everyone who is awake and bring them to the field please.’ Grayson began issuing orders.
The Leader shook his head as if shooing a bothersome fly away. He looked across the dusty chamber and spotted the slumped heap of body that was William. His eyes narrowed viciously as he appeared in front of the assassin.
‘Wake up!’ The Leader shouted as he telekinetically slapped the unconscious man across the face. William shuddered violently as Lachlan pulled him to his feet and slammed him aggressively against the wall. ‘Wake up you piece of shit!’ The Brit shook his head briefly before coming to his senses and shaking with laughter.
‘Going to kill me now?’ William asked with a leer of delight to the frail Leader.
‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ Lachlan asked through clenched teeth, his fists balled up at his sides, struggling with his desire to tear the man’s head from his shoulders.
‘You deserve the same fate as your faggot husband.’ William hissed poisonously. The Leader, several feet from the pinned Brit, waved a hand impossibly fast as the telekinetic energy crackled through the air, impacting so forcefully with William’s face that his head cracked the stone wall behind it.
‘Oh, I’m not going to kill you William. Not yet anyway. When I’m finished with you, you’re going to wish I had though.’ The Leader whispered furiously.
‘What do you …?’ The Brit began asking, but was cut off when the Leader disappeared from sight, pulling the Brit painfully behind him through the teleportation conduits. Lachlan landed firmly on the stone floor as William was slammed painfully onto his stomach. The Leader righted the Brit, suspending him a few inches from the floor behind him.
‘Where are we?’ William asked nervously.
‘What does it matter to you?’ Lachlan answered with a ruthless laugh that echoed around the chamber. William’s eyes bulged obscenely when he heard the shouts and hurried footsteps clambering down the hallway.
‘No!’ The Brit shouted angrily. The Leader turned to William, a cruel smile lighting his face. The dozen foot soldiers ran into the chamber, swords raised in preparation.
‘No!’ William shouted again, the foot soldiers believing he was speaking to them, their swords lowering slightly. With a flutter of the eyelid, all twelve soldiers were slammed against the wall behind them, pinned telekinetically in place. William was lowered to the stone floor quickly, his knees jamming painfully into the hard surface as one of the soldiers was flung forward, slammed to his knees two feet in front of the Brit. Pain and fear fought for dominance of the soldiers face. William felt an intruding mind pressing into his own and heard the echo of laughter, the same laughter that he had heard from the man who was holding him captive. As he wondered what was about to happen, he felt the presence of the foot soldier’s mind within his own, felt the fear of the poor soul as his own. Lachlan had connected William telepathically with the soldier.
‘Sir?’ The soldier asked with a sob. William tried to close his eyes, but found they were being held open. He couldn’t even shake his head.
‘I’m sorry Michaels.’ William was surprised he was able to move his mouth. He saw the absolute terror clouding the eyes of the soldier, the captain of his personal guard.
Lachlan appeared behind the captain, a darkness shadowing his face as a cruel smile transformed it.
William watched on in horror as the captains right arm was raised to his side, a sickening crack of bone sounded as the forearm twisted back on the upper arm at an abnormal angle, a second crack and the upper arm was wrenched down, a blood curdling cacophony of snapping bones and tearing flesh as the arm was torn from the shoulder socket, the wasted limb thrown to the side of the chamber. William watched the face of his personal guard twist in gruesome pain, his mouth wrenched open in a silent scream. The Brit was unable to block out the horrific screams that reverberated in his mind, the internal screams of Captain Michaels that echoed in William’s mind, the companion of the unbelievable pain that crippled both the soldier and the Brit.
William wasn’t sure he would survive much more of this and felt sick to his stomach as he watched the left arm of Captain Michaels rise, and in a revolting repetition of the right arm, broke twice before it was ripped from the shoulder socket; the telepathic screams were deafening the Brit, but barely enough to prevent the pain shooting through his own limbs.
Unable to turn away, William was forced to look into the man’s eyes; the bloodshot eyes that begged for mercy even as they filled with tears. Captain Michaels was lifted from the stone floor and dangled a foot from the floor. William felt a burning pain in his groin and vomited uncontrollably as Captain Michaels legs were pulled apart, both hip joints dislocating with loud cracks and the sickening sound of tearing ligament. William heard the flesh of the man’s groin tearing grotesquely, felt the pain himself through the telepathic connection, was deafened by the agonised screams as Captain Michaels legs were pulled slowly and deliberately in opposite directions. William begged over and over for it to end, his mind flashing with the screams of his guard as the pulling stopped. Captain Michaels groin had been torn in two, his body hanging macabrely, the tearing of his body ceased around his navel. Blood, flesh, intestines, stomach, bile, all dripped disturbingly from the gaping wound. William found he was unable to stop looking at the horrific scene and only managed to tear his eyes away when he heard Captain Michaels whisper to him.
‘Sir?’ The man gasped so very quietly, a splatter of blood gurgling from his mouth.
‘Rest easy soldier. God waits…’
Before William could finish the sentence, Captain Michaels was viciously pulled in two, the two halves of his body thrown against opposite walls, the sickening sound of flesh and bone splattering obscenely. William’s eyes overflowed with tears as his mind was suddenly quiet, the voice and mind of Captain Michaels extinguished, the pain still prickling in the Brit’s own.
Another solider was slammed onto his knees in front of William, replacing Captain Michaels, a new face of fear, staring at William as the two minds were telepathically connected.
The Brit sobbed with fear as he looked into the dark brown eyes of Lieutenant Jacobs which were already flowing with tears.
‘Please sir, I don’t want to die.’ Lieutenant Jacobs pleaded softly. ‘Please?’
‘I… I’m sorry Jacobs.’ William sobbed hysterically as the soldier was lifted off the ground. The man’s legs were straightened beneath him, his toes pointed to the floor as they curled furthermore; the moist cracking of the small foot bones snapping as the feet were folded in half. The lower part of the man’s legs were shattered as the tibia and fibula were snapped violently, the jagged ends of the bones protruding through the torn muscle. Lieutenant Jacobs’ mind was chaos as the pain flooded his thoughts and communicated to William. The Brit flinched involuntarily as the soldiers lower legs were brought forward and forced upward, bending the knees in the opposite direction, the grinding and cracking of bones and cartilage sounded as the knee joints were destroyed, tears streaming down the faces of both men.
William sobbed uncontrollably as Lieutenant Jacobs was again slammed heavily onto the stone floor, his broken and bloodied legs breaking further from the impact. The Brit looked into the unfocussed eyes of his foot soldier and felt a huge pressure against his sternum, a searing heat as he felt and saw Lieutenant Jacob’s rib cage forced in opposite directions, the man’s torso ripped in half.
William, through his own sobbing and screams of mental anguish, felt the mind of his soldier extinguish as the remnants of his broken body was swept unceremoniously to the side of the room.
Ten more times a soldier was placed in front of William. Ten more times William was connected telepathically with each soldier as Lachlan systematically broke each soldier, slowly, surgically, grotesquely. Ten more times William was overwhelmed with the telepathic screams of agony from each soldier, his body racked with the pain each of his private guards as they were broken, tortured and eventually killed.
William Braddock was on the verge of a psychotic break. Although all twelve of his personal guard had been killed, their bodies lying broken and discarded about the room, William could hear and feel each and every one of the soldiers. Their cries for help, their screams of pain, the pleas of mercy echoing around the empty chasm of the Brit’s own mind.
Tired, exhausted, and in amazingly large amounts of pain, William was raised from the floor and floated behind Lachlan as the small framed man walked slowly out of the chamber, down a small hallway, down a circular flight of stairs and into the primary chamber of the Order’s fort.
Several soldiers had formed a defensive line around a man in the corner. Spotting who the man was, Lachlan connected William telepathically with the several soldiers, and the old man.
‘Why are you still here?’ William sobbed from behind the Leader. The old man looked up to the prostrate figure of the Dominus and smiled.
‘I fear not death, even though you’re the fool that provoked this god.’ The old man said gesturing politely to Lachlan who watched on curiously. ‘Things would have been different if my fool of a brother had made me Dominus.’ He said with a bow to Lachlan.
The Leader looked from the man to his soldiers, scanning their thoughts briefly. They were not loyal to William. Their service was to Walter Benedict.
‘Yes. We do not follow William. But we accept our punishment.’ The old man said as the soldiers lowered their swords and stood at ease.
Lachlan waved a hand at the soldiers and they all gasped as they were held firmly in place, unable to move even an eyelid.
‘You are a fool William.’ Walter spat at the young Brit as he too was compelled to stand motionless.
One by one, a replica of the procession that Lachlan forced him to observe upstairs, Walter’s private guard were brought before William. And in similar fashion were physically broken, twisted, manipulated and tortured to their deaths.
William was fast losing himself to the collective pain of the two dozen minds that now crowded his own. Screams of pain, pleas of mercy, pain beyond reckoning.
‘Where is your brother?’ Lachlan asked as he drew Walter Benedict forward, a human marionette.
‘He died yesterday.’ Walter said calmly as he was standing in front of a sobbing William. ‘I would like to join my brothers, Mac de Grian.’
The right eyebrow of Lachlan rose slowly, almost meeting the hairline, as he observed the face of Walter inquisitively.
‘Please don’t.’ William begged incoherently. Lachlan’s emotionless face twisted horribly into a smile of pure malevolence.
‘Shut up William.’ Walter spat to the young man as a line of scarlet traced across his throat, the dark and thick blood beading at first then pouring quickly from the gaping wound. William watched on in horror as the brother of his leader, a man whom he had no respect for, pleaded not for mercy, but to be released and rejoin his brothers.
‘Ah, you see now, the precarious house of cards you have made for yourself.’ Lachlan said with humour. William didn’t reply, merely sobbed. Walter was released from the hold and fell heavily upon the stone floor, his eyes fixed horrifically on William’s in the throes of death. William shuddered internally as yet another voice was added to the crowd within his mind. Without a moment to rest, William was raised and pulled along behind Lachlan as the small framed man walked down another flight of stairs.
Into a smaller, darker chamber they entered, William sobbing hysterically now.
‘Please, please don’t kill us.’ A voice called from a corner. The Leader waved a hand and several flames appeared, lighting the chamber. In the corner, huddled together, were five young children and a woman.
Lachlan raised a hand and lifted one of the young children into the air as he created a connection between the young children and William. The child screamed with unbound fear as it floated slowly through the air and was stood in front of the Brit.
William’s mind exploded with roars of protest; screams of outrage, panic and chaos erupted and took over his mind. It was all that was needed.
William’s consciousness had lost the fight. Too loud were the screams, too intense was the pain, too unjust the slaughter. William Braddock, Dominus, leader of the Order had succumbed to the psychological trauma. His consciousness dissipated into nothingness, vanished from the realm of his mind.
The great Firebird erupted from the Leader and filled the small chamber, the children and their guardian all screaming with fear. The child standing in front of William was carried carefully back to the group where he was pulled into the embrace of the terrified woman.
‘That is enough.’ The dual toned voice of the phoenix spoke softly, the sound filling the room eerily. Over the sobbing of the children, the fire bird screeched loudly and the Leader and William vanished from the room.
‘So this is Rama?’ Jaden asked quietly of his brother, who still had the bundle of baby in his arms, cooing softly.
‘So it would seem.’ Caiden answered warmly.
‘Well damn!’ The red head said with a laugh. In a more serious tone he continued. ‘What do we do with him?’
‘Quinn was told to protect him, to give him to us and to protect him.’ The blond twin said quietly. ‘I say we raise him.’
‘Raise him?’ Jaden asked uncertainly.
‘Why not?’ The blond responded with a shrug of the shoulder. Jaden shook his head briefly, unable to think of a reason at the moment.
The people gathered in the field collectively leapt back in surprise as a large explosion of fire erupted in the middle of the field, retracting into the body of the now visible Leader. People gasped and called out as they hurried to surround their Leader. The Firebird was still visible as it waved a wing and all but a few people were frozen.
‘Come.’ The Firebird invited as Jaden, Caiden, still holding the baby, Grayson, Alex and Quinn all walked quickly to stand before the Leader, whose face was the emotionless, waxy mask.
‘What…?’ Jaden began, but was interrupted.
‘He has paid for his crimes.’ The bird said, looking down to the unmoving body of William Braddock, who simply lay on the grass, as if dead. ‘William Braddock is no more.’
Grayson stepped forward and moved the limp body of the Brit out of the way.
‘Lachlan is beyond help now. I cannot mend his mind, or his heart. He is broken beyond repair.’ The small group of people gasped in shock.
‘But what happens…?’ Jaden began asking, but was once more interrupted.
‘He will be reborn. Alex, Quinn, I have seen into your hearts. You will take him and raise him. Protect him and love him, as I know you will.’ The Firebird commanded, Alex and Quinn both nodding in agreement, mostly out of fear than acceptance. ‘I will return when he comes of age, like I always have.’
Alex was about to ask a question when the Leader’s body erupted with white flames, the body of Lachlan being consumed by the fire. Alex and Quinn watched on even as their eyes watered from the brightness. And after a few moments, the flames vanished, a newborn child, swaddled in a yellow blanket lay on the grass where moments before stood Lachlan Chadwick.
Quinn swooped down quickly and had the re-born Leader cuddled in his arms. Alex stood behind his husband and looked over his shoulder into the face of the newborn.
‘Well, those are definitely his eyes.’ Alex said with a smile, reaching out with his index finger and stroking the baby’s cheek, the baby squawking with delight, the pale blue eyes focussing on the Italian’s face.
‘Where’s Lachlan?’ Monica asked as she and the inhabitants of the Sanctuary regained movement. ‘The barrier is gone.’
‘What?’ Someone called out.
‘The barrier has gone. They’ll get in.’ Monica said in a panic.
‘Calm.’ Grayson called out loudly, raising his hands, gesturing for quiet. ‘The Order is no longer a threat. We are safe.’
A buzz of hushed words flitted around the crowd of gathered people as Grayson turned to Alex and the twins.
‘My cabin.’ The older man said with a jerk of his head. The five men disappeared from sight as they reappeared in the living room of Grayson’s private cabin.
‘Jaden, Cade, Alex, the three of you will need to raise a new barrier around the Sanctuary. Tonight if you would.’ Grayson said in a business-like manner.
‘Give him to me.’ Quinn said shuffling the baby Lachlan to one arm and taking the baby Rama in the other, sitting down on the sofa. The twins and Italian sat in a triangle and began the preparations to erect a new barrier. Grayson sat beside Quinn and took the baby Rama from Quinn and sighed.
‘I had no idea.’ The older man said softly, looking into the face of the child he was holding.
‘I don’t think any of us did. Even Lachlan.’ Quinn said smiling down to the new-born he was holding.
‘What do we do?’ Grayson asked quietly, a tear falling into the soft blanket wrapped around Rama.
‘I’m not entirely sure.’ Quinn replied as the two men fell into silence, their minds filled with their individual thoughts.
Several minutes later Quinn and Grayson were pulled from their reverie as three balls of fire hovered above Alex and the twins. A few seconds of silence and the balls of fire shot through the roof of the cabin as Alex, Jaden and Caiden all came to.
‘That’s the barrier taken care of.’ Caiden said with a smile as he stood and walked to Grayson, holding his hands out and taking the infant from his father.
‘I… we….’ Alex stuttered emotionally as he stood in front of his husband who was cooing to the new-born in his arms. ‘We need to sleep.’ Alex sighed softly.
‘Yes, we all do.’ Grayson said quietly as he stood up slowly. ‘I’ll go move William somewhere. You two, to your cabin and sleep. Callum and Nikolai should be there.’
Alex, holding the shoulders of his husband, guided him through the door and toward their cabin silently.
‘He’s falling asleep.’ Quinn whispered as he watched the child’s eyelids drooping closed. They entered their private cabin and walked to the master bedroom. Alex waved a hand and formed a bundle of solid blankets on the side of their bed. Quinn placed the precious parcel in the middle of the blankets and stood watching for a moment.
‘Come my love. You need to sleep.’ Alex said gently pulling his husband’s hand. The two men climbed onto the bed beside the bundle of blankets holding the new-born and within moments they were asleep soundly.
Callum and Nikolai peered around the corner of the door frame and saw Alex and Quinn lying beside the child.
‘Whose baby is that?’ The Brit asked of the Russian.
‘I don’t know.’ Nikolai answered honestly. ‘I’m sure we’ll find out tomorrow.’ Callum walked quietly back to the guest room and waited for Nikolai to enter, closing the door behind him.
‘Let’s get some sleep.’ Callum said softly as he climbed into the bed, holding the duvet up for Nikolai. The Russian crawled into the bed, turned over and shuffled back into the warmth of Callum’s front, the Brit wrapping his arms protectively around Nikolai. And within moments, the men had succumbed to sleep.
All characters are fictional and any similarities to known actual people are coincidental, unless otherwise specified.
Visit the blog to see visualisations of the characters throughout the story. As always your feedback is important and always welcome.
Lachlan - [email protected] or [email protected]
***
The small framed man knelt on the grass for several long moments, his hands in his lap; the fingers curled slightly, his eyes haven't quite focussed on them. A single tear fell from the right eye and fell between clawed hands, landing silently on a blade of grass.
His vision began to focus and he saw the solitary tear, sitting motionless atop a blade of grass, weighted down by the foreign weight. He focussed on the tear drop and watched as the surface tension of the tear began to ripple, as if a constant force of movement was shaking nearby.
The transparent bead of water began shaking violently as the surface tension lost the fight against the movement, tearing apart as the water spilled out and over the blade of grass, disappearing in the soil beneath.
Hands shaking with uncontrollable rage, the Leader was now standing, his feet apart, the toes of each foot curled under, clawing into the earth, even as every muscle in his body vibrated with uncontrollable fury.
Lachlan looked up, fixing his eyes on the sun which was at this point setting in the distant horizon. The Leader’s eyes, naturally pale blue, began glowing bright yellow, his pupil’s pinpoints of white. It was as if he saw nothing, as if he were looking into the distance unseeingly. His body shuddered violently with suppressed fury.
The grassy meadow where he stood began to fade as he returned to reality, the astral plane vanishing around him, almost as quickly as Rama’s projection had.
‘Lachlan?’ Alex asked from somewhere near his side. The Leader, standing still in the middle of his living room, was still shaking with anger, his eyes fixed unblinkingly upon something in the extreme distance, not seeing, still glowing bright yellow.
‘Are you alright?’ Alex asked cautiously as he shuffled around the Leader, to stand in front of him. He looked into the face of the small framed man and shrunk back in fear. The normally serene and pleasant expression of the Leader was now a dark and waxy mask of emptiness; a visual representation of the hollowness within.
‘QUINN!’ Alex shouted in fear. ‘QUINN!’ Shaking with fear, the Italian telepathically shouted to the twins. Quinn appeared in the hallway, a sheet pulled around himself in an effort to cover his nakedness.
‘What the…?’ The blond asked nervously once he saw Lachlan, standing in the middle of the living room. Quinn saw not only the barely restrained vibrations of the man’s body, but an aura of bright light radiating from within. ‘Lachlan, what’s happened?’
The Leader turned to look at the person who had just spoken, recognising the familiar sound. Quinn felt uneasy with the empty look in the man’s eyes, the brightness difficult to look into.
‘He has been taken from me.’ An echoing voice stated, an emotional hollowness resonating; Quinn and Alex unsure if it were the Leader speaking at all.
‘Who has been?’ Quinn asked, moving closer to the trembling Leader, his hand extended cautiously.
‘My Rama.’ Lachlan said softly, his eyes dimming slightly, just enough that Quinn could see the black of his pupils. ‘He killed him.’ Alex was standing just behind his husband, a look of shock plastered on his face. Quinn had a hand to his mouth, stifling his own display of shock.
‘Who?’ Alex asked quietly. Lachlan’s face turned to the Italian, startling Alex slightly, and any resemblance of Lachlan vanished before them as the darkness took over.
‘William.’ The echoing voice stated loudly as the walls of the cabin shook, as if an earthquake had struck.
Before Alex or Quinn could ask another question, an explosion of light erupted from the shaking body of the Leader, the room immediately filling with large flames of white, the heat of which began to burn the exposed skin of the Italian and Canadian as they were tossed against the walls, as if they were mere rag dolls.
The structural integrity of the cabin began to fail as wave after wave of energy erupted from the Leader. The walls began to crack under the pressure, the support beams groaned under duress and finally splintering. Alex, barely able to retain consciousness against the exploding energy, waved a hand toward the guest bedroom where Nikolai and Callum lay sleeping. He created as strong a shield as he could around the bed and using his remaining strength, pushed the bed through the external wall and as far away from the cabin as he could.
A final wave of energy pulsed from the Leader and the cabin exploded in a hurricane of flame; the walls, roof and floor all splintering with deafening creaks of protest as they were torn to shreds and tossed in every direction in tiny fragments.
Jaden, with his brother right behind him, were heading for the Leader’s cabin, as they were caught in the explosion, both men thrown a dozen feet backward and landing heavily on their backs; large divots of earth flying from where their bodies impacted with the ground.
‘ALEX?’ The twins heard from somewhere nearby in the darkness. Callum had extracted himself from the bed and was staggering towards the remnants of the cabin calling out for his cousin. ‘ALEX?’
Caiden sat up with a loud groan, placing his hands on the earth behind him to hold himself up and looked with blurred vision toward the smouldering remnants of Lachlan’s cabin.
Alex and Quinn were both slammed into a very hard and immovable stone floor, both men partially stunned from the impact, a small cloud of dust swirling from their impact. Even with closed eyes Quinn could see the bright flames dissipate around him. With every ounce of energy he could muster, the blond hauled himself up onto his hands and knees, shaking his head to remove the dizzying effect of his sudden impact. On hands and knees, he staggered about trying to find his husband and felt arms wrapping around him from above. Alex lifted the blond upward and held him tight to his chest.
‘Are you alright?’ The Italian whispered in panic.
‘Dizzy.’ The blond replied pressing his face against the hard slab of tensed pectoral. ‘Where are we?’
‘I don’t know.’ Alex said nervously. ‘But we didn’t teleport here. It felt like we were dragged here, at speed.’ Still holding his husband to him, Alex shuffled slowly toward the middle of the room where a stone table was covered with odd objects. He walked around the table cautiously and saw a man with long, dark hair, kneeling on the dusty floor, the curtain of dark hair hiding the man’s face from view. Alex took a few more steps and saw that the kneeling man was leaning over a body, lying sprawled on the floor in a puddle of dark blood.
‘Please wake up.’ The Italian heard Lachlan whisper softly, sobbing gently. ‘Please come back.’
Alex, still holding his husband to himself, stepped toward his leader and friend, and caught a sudden movement in the corner of his eye. Even as he turned to see what it was, the Leader had erupted into flames and extended a hand toward the movement, the expressionless mask of a face still looking down at the fallen body of his husband. Alex, following the gigantic column of flame that somehow seemed an extension of Lachlan’s arm, saw a person pinned to the stone wall, a fiery claw holding the man motionless.
‘William?’ Alex gasped with shock when he recognised the person. William Braddock was trying desperately to free himself from the Leader’s hold, struggling in vain.
‘You tiny, insignificant speck of filth.’ A deep and echoing voice said, somehow amplified beyond normal volume, chilling both Alex and Quinn with fear. The Italian and his husband both turned to look at Lachlan, who was now standing; the gigantic Firebird emanating from his body, the wings spread and spanning the entire width of the large chamber they were in, the head of the majestic bird leaning down and toward the man, held against the wall by the claw of its right foot which surrounded and somehow extended from the arm of the Leader.
‘What’s the matter? Did I kill your husband?’ William sneered viciously, a maniacal smile lingering about his mouth, his eyes bulging obscenely. ‘Dirty faggot.’
Alex, releasing his husband, had launched himself toward his cousin, with the intention of tearing the disgusting human limb from limb. The right wing of the Firebird had lowered and caught the Italian, lifting him bodily from the floor and standing him on his feet, beside his husband. The head of the Firebird turned and looked down at the Italian and somehow seemed to bow to him.
‘Thank you friend, but I will take care of this.’ The deep voice resonated in the room, the sound pressing into their ear drums, as if they were being crushed under the pressure of being in deep water.
‘Ha!’ William laughed abruptly. ‘Hurry up and kill me.’
The phoenix turned its attention back to William, whom, despite his psychopathic façade, shivered with fear.
‘Soon.’ The deep voice announced as the phoenix’s beak opened and screeched a loud and quavering note of terror. Alex and Quinn slapped their hands to their ears in an effort to block out the sound and watched on in horror as William collapsed against the wall, unconscious. The claw holding the man to the wall released him and retracted as Lachlan lowered his arm, the Firebird itself shrinking slightly in size, now merely a few feet above the Leader’s head. The Leader turned on the spot and beckoned for Alex and Quinn to come closer. Alex wrapped an arm around his husband's shoulder and the two men approached cautiously, both completely naked, as the sheet that was wrapped around Quinn had been dissolved in flames earlier.
‘Are you alright?’ Quinn asked timidly when they were within a few feet.
‘No, he isn’t.’ The phoenix emanating from the Leader’s body said in its deep and vibrating voice. ‘Apologies, for I am not the person you know as Lachlan.’
‘Wait, what?’ Alex asked, looking from the blank mask-like face of the Leader up to the fiery head of the phoenix.
‘I am not Lachlan, and yet I am Lachlan. I am the living spirit that inhabits the same mind as him, he who is eternal.’ The Firebird replied, confusing Alex and Quinn even more.
‘What does that mean?’ Quinn asked gently.
‘I am the immortal part of Lachlan. The spirit that is eternal. I am the Spirit of the Sun.’ The Firebird said. Alex and Quinn both gasped in surprise; their mouth’s hanging open comically.
‘Spirit of the Sun?’ Alex asked curiously.
‘Yes.’ The Firebird answered, the head bobbing up and down slowly.
‘But what are you doing in there, in Lachlan?’ Quinn queried of the bird.
‘I am a part of him. I am him. He is me. I am immortality to his mortality. I am forever.’
‘Who are you?’ Alex asked, feeling lost already.
‘I am… the creator.’ The bird said, pausing slightly to find the easiest word to describe himself.
‘The creator?’ Alex questioned, still not following.
‘I am the Creator. The life bringer. That which burns and destroys, and that which brought you life.’ The Firebird answered. Quinn’s eyes bulged with understanding even as Alex’s face scrunched up trying to comprehend.
‘Alex.’ Quinn said, reaching out and putting a hand on his husband's shoulder, turning him around to face him. ‘That is the Sun. The Sun. The Spirit of the Sun.’ Quinn said pointing to the Firebird.
‘Yes.’ The phoenix agreed. ‘I am the Sun.’
Alex looked from his husband’s face up to the Firebird and finally understood.
‘You’re the Sun?’ Alex gasped quietly as the bird nodded again.
‘But, how?’ Quinn asked of the Sun spirit.
‘Another time. We have things that need to be done.’ The Firebird said in a sudden business-like manner. The Leader turned back to the body of his fallen husband and knelt again, his arms extended in front of himself, palms facing down to Rama.
‘What are you doing?’ Quinn asked in a mild panic, stepping forward quickly, now standing beside Lachlan.
‘Death is but an old friend who knows better than to try my patience.’ The Firebird said, a tinge of humour evident in the low, vibrating voice. Quinn looked at the body of Rama and saw the swirling golden light of his spirit beginning to collect together, preparing for departure.
‘Wait, you’re going to…?’ Quinn was cut off as flames erupted from the body lying on the floor, engulfing and surrounding Rama’s body, burning brighter than white. Alex and Quinn shielded their eyes, turning away as the fire consumed the remains of Rama Chadwick; the Firebird screeching eerily.
Over the dual toned screech of the Firebird, Quinn heard a faint crying, that of a newborn child. He turned back to the Leader and no longer saw Rama’s body. Below the Leader’s outstretched hands lay a baby, swaddled in a soft yellow blanket.
‘Is that…?’ Alex began.
‘…Rama?’ Quinn finished the question. The Firebird turned toward Alex and Quinn, Lachlan’s torso also turning with the movement.
‘He is reborn, and always will be, as I am. He is me. I am him. We are…’ The bird was unable to find the word to explain.
‘How is that even possible?’ Alex asked, his brow furrowed in deep thought.
‘Later. Please take him and keep him safe.’ The Firebird commanded firmly.
‘Wait, does Lachlan know?’ Quinn questioned the phoenix.
‘No. Nor will he ever.’ The bird said simply. ‘Take him to the twins. Keep him safe.’
The Firebird grew in size again as Quinn swooped down and collected the baby from the floor, keeping the soft blanket wrapped around it. The wings of the Firebird wrapped around the two men, Alex who had stepped in front of his husband protectively, Quinn holding the baby securely to his chest, and teleported them back to the Sanctuary, admittedly a lot more comfortably than their last journey.
‘ALEX? QUINN?’ The two men heard someone calling out. The Firebird had deposited the two men in the middle of the Gathering field.
‘ALEX?’ Callum bellowed loudly.
‘HERE!’ Alex shouted, letting them know where they were. ‘AND QUINN.’ The two men heard a thundering of footsteps as dozens of people ran toward them. Still standing in front of his husband, arms around him, Alex looked over his shoulder and saw Callum, Jaden, Caiden, Grayson, Tristan, Monica, Lillian, Nikolai, Johan, a few other mages and several other inhabitants of the Sanctuary barreling to them in a panic.
‘What happened?’
‘Where’s Lachlan?’
‘What’s going on?’
‘Are you alright?’
‘What’s going on?’
‘We need a moment.’ Alex said wearily, as the events of the past five minutes began to weigh heavily on him. ‘Please, just give us a moment.’
Quinn, whose shoulders were shaking with exhaustion turned from his husband and found himself looking straight into Caiden’s green eyes.
‘Who is…?’ The blond twin began, but didn’t finish.
‘I was told to give him to you and Jaden.’ Quinn said weakly, tears forming in his eyes.
‘But who is it?’ Caiden asked as he scooped the child into his arms deftly.
‘It’s… it’s…’ The blond twin scanned the thoughts of Quinn and recoiled in shock.
‘No way?’ Caiden asked, mostly to himself then anyone present. He looked down at the bundle in his arms and scanned the face of the baby carefully. ‘It… it looks nothing like him, but, I can sense him in there.’
‘Sense who?’ Jaden asked, stepping beside his brother and peering into the bundle of blanket.
‘Everyone, let’s all settle down and relax. Tristan, will you please get some clothes for these two. Monica can you gather everyone who is awake and bring them to the field please.’ Grayson began issuing orders.
The Leader shook his head as if shooing a bothersome fly away. He looked across the dusty chamber and spotted the slumped heap of body that was William. His eyes narrowed viciously as he appeared in front of the assassin.
‘Wake up!’ The Leader shouted as he telekinetically slapped the unconscious man across the face. William shuddered violently as Lachlan pulled him to his feet and slammed him aggressively against the wall. ‘Wake up you piece of shit!’ The Brit shook his head briefly before coming to his senses and shaking with laughter.
‘Going to kill me now?’ William asked with a leer of delight to the frail Leader.
‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ Lachlan asked through clenched teeth, his fists balled up at his sides, struggling with his desire to tear the man’s head from his shoulders.
‘You deserve the same fate as your faggot husband.’ William hissed poisonously. The Leader, several feet from the pinned Brit, waved a hand impossibly fast as the telekinetic energy crackled through the air, impacting so forcefully with William’s face that his head cracked the stone wall behind it.
‘Oh, I’m not going to kill you William. Not yet anyway. When I’m finished with you, you’re going to wish I had though.’ The Leader whispered furiously.
‘What do you …?’ The Brit began asking, but was cut off when the Leader disappeared from sight, pulling the Brit painfully behind him through the teleportation conduits. Lachlan landed firmly on the stone floor as William was slammed painfully onto his stomach. The Leader righted the Brit, suspending him a few inches from the floor behind him.
‘Where are we?’ William asked nervously.
‘What does it matter to you?’ Lachlan answered with a ruthless laugh that echoed around the chamber. William’s eyes bulged obscenely when he heard the shouts and hurried footsteps clambering down the hallway.
‘No!’ The Brit shouted angrily. The Leader turned to William, a cruel smile lighting his face. The dozen foot soldiers ran into the chamber, swords raised in preparation.
‘No!’ William shouted again, the foot soldiers believing he was speaking to them, their swords lowering slightly. With a flutter of the eyelid, all twelve soldiers were slammed against the wall behind them, pinned telekinetically in place. William was lowered to the stone floor quickly, his knees jamming painfully into the hard surface as one of the soldiers was flung forward, slammed to his knees two feet in front of the Brit. Pain and fear fought for dominance of the soldiers face. William felt an intruding mind pressing into his own and heard the echo of laughter, the same laughter that he had heard from the man who was holding him captive. As he wondered what was about to happen, he felt the presence of the foot soldier’s mind within his own, felt the fear of the poor soul as his own. Lachlan had connected William telepathically with the soldier.
‘Sir?’ The soldier asked with a sob. William tried to close his eyes, but found they were being held open. He couldn’t even shake his head.
‘I’m sorry Michaels.’ William was surprised he was able to move his mouth. He saw the absolute terror clouding the eyes of the soldier, the captain of his personal guard.
Lachlan appeared behind the captain, a darkness shadowing his face as a cruel smile transformed it.
William watched on in horror as the captains right arm was raised to his side, a sickening crack of bone sounded as the forearm twisted back on the upper arm at an abnormal angle, a second crack and the upper arm was wrenched down, a blood curdling cacophony of snapping bones and tearing flesh as the arm was torn from the shoulder socket, the wasted limb thrown to the side of the chamber. William watched the face of his personal guard twist in gruesome pain, his mouth wrenched open in a silent scream. The Brit was unable to block out the horrific screams that reverberated in his mind, the internal screams of Captain Michaels that echoed in William’s mind, the companion of the unbelievable pain that crippled both the soldier and the Brit.
William wasn’t sure he would survive much more of this and felt sick to his stomach as he watched the left arm of Captain Michaels rise, and in a revolting repetition of the right arm, broke twice before it was ripped from the shoulder socket; the telepathic screams were deafening the Brit, but barely enough to prevent the pain shooting through his own limbs.
Unable to turn away, William was forced to look into the man’s eyes; the bloodshot eyes that begged for mercy even as they filled with tears. Captain Michaels was lifted from the stone floor and dangled a foot from the floor. William felt a burning pain in his groin and vomited uncontrollably as Captain Michaels legs were pulled apart, both hip joints dislocating with loud cracks and the sickening sound of tearing ligament. William heard the flesh of the man’s groin tearing grotesquely, felt the pain himself through the telepathic connection, was deafened by the agonised screams as Captain Michaels legs were pulled slowly and deliberately in opposite directions. William begged over and over for it to end, his mind flashing with the screams of his guard as the pulling stopped. Captain Michaels groin had been torn in two, his body hanging macabrely, the tearing of his body ceased around his navel. Blood, flesh, intestines, stomach, bile, all dripped disturbingly from the gaping wound. William found he was unable to stop looking at the horrific scene and only managed to tear his eyes away when he heard Captain Michaels whisper to him.
‘Sir?’ The man gasped so very quietly, a splatter of blood gurgling from his mouth.
‘Rest easy soldier. God waits…’
Before William could finish the sentence, Captain Michaels was viciously pulled in two, the two halves of his body thrown against opposite walls, the sickening sound of flesh and bone splattering obscenely. William’s eyes overflowed with tears as his mind was suddenly quiet, the voice and mind of Captain Michaels extinguished, the pain still prickling in the Brit’s own.
Another solider was slammed onto his knees in front of William, replacing Captain Michaels, a new face of fear, staring at William as the two minds were telepathically connected.
The Brit sobbed with fear as he looked into the dark brown eyes of Lieutenant Jacobs which were already flowing with tears.
‘Please sir, I don’t want to die.’ Lieutenant Jacobs pleaded softly. ‘Please?’
‘I… I’m sorry Jacobs.’ William sobbed hysterically as the soldier was lifted off the ground. The man’s legs were straightened beneath him, his toes pointed to the floor as they curled furthermore; the moist cracking of the small foot bones snapping as the feet were folded in half. The lower part of the man’s legs were shattered as the tibia and fibula were snapped violently, the jagged ends of the bones protruding through the torn muscle. Lieutenant Jacobs’ mind was chaos as the pain flooded his thoughts and communicated to William. The Brit flinched involuntarily as the soldiers lower legs were brought forward and forced upward, bending the knees in the opposite direction, the grinding and cracking of bones and cartilage sounded as the knee joints were destroyed, tears streaming down the faces of both men.
William sobbed uncontrollably as Lieutenant Jacobs was again slammed heavily onto the stone floor, his broken and bloodied legs breaking further from the impact. The Brit looked into the unfocussed eyes of his foot soldier and felt a huge pressure against his sternum, a searing heat as he felt and saw Lieutenant Jacob’s rib cage forced in opposite directions, the man’s torso ripped in half.
William, through his own sobbing and screams of mental anguish, felt the mind of his soldier extinguish as the remnants of his broken body was swept unceremoniously to the side of the room.
Ten more times a soldier was placed in front of William. Ten more times William was connected telepathically with each soldier as Lachlan systematically broke each soldier, slowly, surgically, grotesquely. Ten more times William was overwhelmed with the telepathic screams of agony from each soldier, his body racked with the pain each of his private guards as they were broken, tortured and eventually killed.
William Braddock was on the verge of a psychotic break. Although all twelve of his personal guard had been killed, their bodies lying broken and discarded about the room, William could hear and feel each and every one of the soldiers. Their cries for help, their screams of pain, the pleas of mercy echoing around the empty chasm of the Brit’s own mind.
Tired, exhausted, and in amazingly large amounts of pain, William was raised from the floor and floated behind Lachlan as the small framed man walked slowly out of the chamber, down a small hallway, down a circular flight of stairs and into the primary chamber of the Order’s fort.
Several soldiers had formed a defensive line around a man in the corner. Spotting who the man was, Lachlan connected William telepathically with the several soldiers, and the old man.
‘Why are you still here?’ William sobbed from behind the Leader. The old man looked up to the prostrate figure of the Dominus and smiled.
‘I fear not death, even though you’re the fool that provoked this god.’ The old man said gesturing politely to Lachlan who watched on curiously. ‘Things would have been different if my fool of a brother had made me Dominus.’ He said with a bow to Lachlan.
The Leader looked from the man to his soldiers, scanning their thoughts briefly. They were not loyal to William. Their service was to Walter Benedict.
‘Yes. We do not follow William. But we accept our punishment.’ The old man said as the soldiers lowered their swords and stood at ease.
Lachlan waved a hand at the soldiers and they all gasped as they were held firmly in place, unable to move even an eyelid.
‘You are a fool William.’ Walter spat at the young Brit as he too was compelled to stand motionless.
One by one, a replica of the procession that Lachlan forced him to observe upstairs, Walter’s private guard were brought before William. And in similar fashion were physically broken, twisted, manipulated and tortured to their deaths.
William was fast losing himself to the collective pain of the two dozen minds that now crowded his own. Screams of pain, pleas of mercy, pain beyond reckoning.
‘Where is your brother?’ Lachlan asked as he drew Walter Benedict forward, a human marionette.
‘He died yesterday.’ Walter said calmly as he was standing in front of a sobbing William. ‘I would like to join my brothers, Mac de Grian.’
The right eyebrow of Lachlan rose slowly, almost meeting the hairline, as he observed the face of Walter inquisitively.
‘Please don’t.’ William begged incoherently. Lachlan’s emotionless face twisted horribly into a smile of pure malevolence.
‘Shut up William.’ Walter spat to the young man as a line of scarlet traced across his throat, the dark and thick blood beading at first then pouring quickly from the gaping wound. William watched on in horror as the brother of his leader, a man whom he had no respect for, pleaded not for mercy, but to be released and rejoin his brothers.
‘Ah, you see now, the precarious house of cards you have made for yourself.’ Lachlan said with humour. William didn’t reply, merely sobbed. Walter was released from the hold and fell heavily upon the stone floor, his eyes fixed horrifically on William’s in the throes of death. William shuddered internally as yet another voice was added to the crowd within his mind. Without a moment to rest, William was raised and pulled along behind Lachlan as the small framed man walked down another flight of stairs.
Into a smaller, darker chamber they entered, William sobbing hysterically now.
‘Please, please don’t kill us.’ A voice called from a corner. The Leader waved a hand and several flames appeared, lighting the chamber. In the corner, huddled together, were five young children and a woman.
Lachlan raised a hand and lifted one of the young children into the air as he created a connection between the young children and William. The child screamed with unbound fear as it floated slowly through the air and was stood in front of the Brit.
William’s mind exploded with roars of protest; screams of outrage, panic and chaos erupted and took over his mind. It was all that was needed.
William’s consciousness had lost the fight. Too loud were the screams, too intense was the pain, too unjust the slaughter. William Braddock, Dominus, leader of the Order had succumbed to the psychological trauma. His consciousness dissipated into nothingness, vanished from the realm of his mind.
The great Firebird erupted from the Leader and filled the small chamber, the children and their guardian all screaming with fear. The child standing in front of William was carried carefully back to the group where he was pulled into the embrace of the terrified woman.
‘That is enough.’ The dual toned voice of the phoenix spoke softly, the sound filling the room eerily. Over the sobbing of the children, the fire bird screeched loudly and the Leader and William vanished from the room.
‘So this is Rama?’ Jaden asked quietly of his brother, who still had the bundle of baby in his arms, cooing softly.
‘So it would seem.’ Caiden answered warmly.
‘Well damn!’ The red head said with a laugh. In a more serious tone he continued. ‘What do we do with him?’
‘Quinn was told to protect him, to give him to us and to protect him.’ The blond twin said quietly. ‘I say we raise him.’
‘Raise him?’ Jaden asked uncertainly.
‘Why not?’ The blond responded with a shrug of the shoulder. Jaden shook his head briefly, unable to think of a reason at the moment.
The people gathered in the field collectively leapt back in surprise as a large explosion of fire erupted in the middle of the field, retracting into the body of the now visible Leader. People gasped and called out as they hurried to surround their Leader. The Firebird was still visible as it waved a wing and all but a few people were frozen.
‘Come.’ The Firebird invited as Jaden, Caiden, still holding the baby, Grayson, Alex and Quinn all walked quickly to stand before the Leader, whose face was the emotionless, waxy mask.
‘What…?’ Jaden began, but was interrupted.
‘He has paid for his crimes.’ The bird said, looking down to the unmoving body of William Braddock, who simply lay on the grass, as if dead. ‘William Braddock is no more.’
Grayson stepped forward and moved the limp body of the Brit out of the way.
‘Lachlan is beyond help now. I cannot mend his mind, or his heart. He is broken beyond repair.’ The small group of people gasped in shock.
‘But what happens…?’ Jaden began asking, but was once more interrupted.
‘He will be reborn. Alex, Quinn, I have seen into your hearts. You will take him and raise him. Protect him and love him, as I know you will.’ The Firebird commanded, Alex and Quinn both nodding in agreement, mostly out of fear than acceptance. ‘I will return when he comes of age, like I always have.’
Alex was about to ask a question when the Leader’s body erupted with white flames, the body of Lachlan being consumed by the fire. Alex and Quinn watched on even as their eyes watered from the brightness. And after a few moments, the flames vanished, a newborn child, swaddled in a yellow blanket lay on the grass where moments before stood Lachlan Chadwick.
Quinn swooped down quickly and had the re-born Leader cuddled in his arms. Alex stood behind his husband and looked over his shoulder into the face of the newborn.
‘Well, those are definitely his eyes.’ Alex said with a smile, reaching out with his index finger and stroking the baby’s cheek, the baby squawking with delight, the pale blue eyes focussing on the Italian’s face.
‘Where’s Lachlan?’ Monica asked as she and the inhabitants of the Sanctuary regained movement. ‘The barrier is gone.’
‘What?’ Someone called out.
‘The barrier has gone. They’ll get in.’ Monica said in a panic.
‘Calm.’ Grayson called out loudly, raising his hands, gesturing for quiet. ‘The Order is no longer a threat. We are safe.’
A buzz of hushed words flitted around the crowd of gathered people as Grayson turned to Alex and the twins.
‘My cabin.’ The older man said with a jerk of his head. The five men disappeared from sight as they reappeared in the living room of Grayson’s private cabin.
‘Jaden, Cade, Alex, the three of you will need to raise a new barrier around the Sanctuary. Tonight if you would.’ Grayson said in a business-like manner.
‘Give him to me.’ Quinn said shuffling the baby Lachlan to one arm and taking the baby Rama in the other, sitting down on the sofa. The twins and Italian sat in a triangle and began the preparations to erect a new barrier. Grayson sat beside Quinn and took the baby Rama from Quinn and sighed.
‘I had no idea.’ The older man said softly, looking into the face of the child he was holding.
‘I don’t think any of us did. Even Lachlan.’ Quinn said smiling down to the new-born he was holding.
‘What do we do?’ Grayson asked quietly, a tear falling into the soft blanket wrapped around Rama.
‘I’m not entirely sure.’ Quinn replied as the two men fell into silence, their minds filled with their individual thoughts.
Several minutes later Quinn and Grayson were pulled from their reverie as three balls of fire hovered above Alex and the twins. A few seconds of silence and the balls of fire shot through the roof of the cabin as Alex, Jaden and Caiden all came to.
‘That’s the barrier taken care of.’ Caiden said with a smile as he stood and walked to Grayson, holding his hands out and taking the infant from his father.
‘I… we….’ Alex stuttered emotionally as he stood in front of his husband who was cooing to the new-born in his arms. ‘We need to sleep.’ Alex sighed softly.
‘Yes, we all do.’ Grayson said quietly as he stood up slowly. ‘I’ll go move William somewhere. You two, to your cabin and sleep. Callum and Nikolai should be there.’
Alex, holding the shoulders of his husband, guided him through the door and toward their cabin silently.
‘He’s falling asleep.’ Quinn whispered as he watched the child’s eyelids drooping closed. They entered their private cabin and walked to the master bedroom. Alex waved a hand and formed a bundle of solid blankets on the side of their bed. Quinn placed the precious parcel in the middle of the blankets and stood watching for a moment.
‘Come my love. You need to sleep.’ Alex said gently pulling his husband’s hand. The two men climbed onto the bed beside the bundle of blankets holding the new-born and within moments they were asleep soundly.
Callum and Nikolai peered around the corner of the door frame and saw Alex and Quinn lying beside the child.
‘Whose baby is that?’ The Brit asked of the Russian.
‘I don’t know.’ Nikolai answered honestly. ‘I’m sure we’ll find out tomorrow.’ Callum walked quietly back to the guest room and waited for Nikolai to enter, closing the door behind him.
‘Let’s get some sleep.’ Callum said softly as he climbed into the bed, holding the duvet up for Nikolai. The Russian crawled into the bed, turned over and shuffled back into the warmth of Callum’s front, the Brit wrapping his arms protectively around Nikolai. And within moments, the men had succumbed to sleep.
Next Chapter - ETA 08th July 2014 (Possibly later)
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