The 2nd chapter is in Shared Work, Please Read.
The Meeting
The hooded figure strode out of the tunnel, his long black cape sweeping the floor behind him. He carefully shut the great big-black door, with a practiced hand for sneakiness, as if to personally make sure it didn't do anything unwanted. He'd come here on business and nothing could go wrong, no not could, it mustn't he thought.
But his effort was in vain, for the door that he just shut, slowly but surely was changing; it was not how it was seconds ago. Suddenly a rumbling noise disturbed the air. The door handle had split in two, and one half of it was now on the opposite side. Even the hinges of the door had started to break loose; in a matter of seconds there, where the door should've been stood a strange creature.
It was a very peculiar sight even for the man- a man who had seen his good share of bizarre things in life. The creature was pitch-black, except for its the long bronze hands, which were previously door handles and its extended hinges which formed its legs. It held a serious resemblance to an overgrown duck with skin tone issues and a lot of disfigurement problems. But the freakiest part of the monster, the one part that sent chills down the man's spine was its face. It had a pointed edge in the middle, which the man assumed to be it's nose, and on it's side- pointed black ears; ones that elves from a fairy tale might have had.
A long slit, on its lower half of the head replaced its mouth. But the one thing the man would've thought the creature might have, it didn't- its eyes. The part where its eyes should've been was just blank, although it didn't have eyes the man knew somehow, somehow that it could see. For reasons unknown, he felt a strong gaze upon him. It must have been his instinct, he thought. The one thing which he'd honed for years. But one thing was for sure, one thing he couldn't doubt. The sight of this monster gave him Goosebumps. He knew this sight and memory would him, stay in his mind till the end of his days.
But another odd thing to add to the bundle of strange things was an invisible burden on the man. He'd first felt it, when he'd entered the room. An invisible force pressured him, a force that hung around with the strange air of malevolence in the shack.
Slowly, the fear of the unknown slithered into his heart, and with growing horror and epiphany, the man stepped backwards. This thing made the hair on his back stand up, he wanted to get out here and put as much distance between him. He felt a great urge, a desire to hide, hide somewhere this thing could never find him; but he found himself unable to move, his body was shivering so bad he could barely move a pace.. Thus, when the creature spoke, the man nearly stumbled and fell; the shock brought another huge wave of shivering upon him. The voice reminded him of nails being hammered, a scrapy like voice, so unusually delicate and oddly cute, for a monster of this sort.
"Password" It said in its vague and loud duck tone. On other occasions the voice might have have brought a grin to his face(That is, if he didn't see the speaker), but with that kind of appearance there was no way; put aside laughing, he could barely even change his facial expression. Al through out it remained panic-stricken and gleaming with terror. The trepidation, seemed to wipe everything in him and about him. There was no emotion. Happiness. Lust. Pride. Greed. No emotions at all. Everything seemed to have left him, but one. Only one. Fear.
He tried his hardest to process the simple question, a question many five-year old's could answer. He gulped and then pressed on with his effort, both of trying to gather his courage and knowledge. Finally, finding his voice, he blurted out the words as soon as they came to his mouth.
"A-A-Aeron Septor" managed the man before his voice deserted him. He desperately wished, with all his heart, that it would leave. Hoping that it would, he used the one last resort available to every man- praying. He knew if this kept up, he would go mad; his irrational fear would be enough to cause it.
To the man's great relief the creature abruptly turned backwards and rolled into a pitch-black sphere. Its black surface camouflaging so well with its dark surroundings, that it was almost indistinguishable for a normal person. Any other would have thought the creature turned invisible and would've started panicking, but this man wasn't anywhere near ordinary, thus he knew better. The sphere, now the size of a beach ball- revolved back into the tunnel entrance and turned into the strange black oak door it was meant to be, again. Everything was quiet once more, as if nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened there and door had never moved.
As soon as the creature was gone, the man felt a great invisible weight being lifted off of his shoulders, invisible force pressuring him was gone; he looked around to see if something might bother him again, but now to the man's relief, there seemed to be nothing.
The man now steadied himself and cleared the dust of his black robes. Helsmwoth needed a good shouting for pulling one over him, he thought. He should have told his senior that there was a- a, Boggart here. But that would be for later, first things first.
Now relieved of his fear, the man shifted his gaze to his surroundings. The inside looked like any other ordinary shack- old and shabby. A small bunk bed sat in one of the dark corner and a very typical wooden brown wardrobe stood in the other opposite corner. The only other furniture seemed to be a small table and a chair. There were three other doors connected to the room, one obviously a kitchen, and the two others- a bathroom and a toilet.
The wooden floor was covered in dust and soot, the walls in cobwebs and with moth eaten curtains. The man slowly circled the shack, taking careful steps, as if even one might cause some kind of wardrobe monster to jump out, making careful observations he looked for the one thing he was looking for among many of its kin, but still didn't find- shadows.
The room was pretty dark and the only source of light was the moon, its rays penetrating the gaps in the curtains and there were obviously shadows, but not the kind he was looking for. He was looking for a shadow, precise in its shape and with its unique color but the man had yet to find it. He kept his eyes wide open, constantly turning his head, looking for even the minuscule of details. And as he looked around with years of his experience, he noticed a very small navy blue shadow spinning in one of the corners.
It was a circle-shaped navy blue spot, about the size of small coin; it was spinning like mini-sized whirlpool, its outline growing larger and its center growing ever so darker and deeper. It was quite hard to see even for the man, he had to strain his eyes to their limit to not let it sight.
Finally, about time too, thought the man, breathing a sigh of relief. The shadow grew larger and larger, soon becoming three-dimensional, until it assumed the shape of a man.
The pudgy man walked out of the shady corners, dusting the imaginary grime he thought might have been tainting his robes. He spotted the hooded figure and grinned.
"Fancy your timing, as usual." he said, with his mad grin.
The hooded figure grabbed the fat man by the collar, lifting him off his feet and pinned him to the wall. The figure put his covered face centimeters away from the other man's face; his eyes seemed to gleam in the moonlight, the only other discernible fact of the man's face other than his mouth.
"Where have you been, you bickering idiot?" he scolded "For once, in your pathetic excuse for a life, can't you be punctual? Huh answer me."
"G-get yer hands of me" answered the man in a choking noise, as the hooded figure regained his composure; he left the man, who held his neck gasping for air. After a few heavy breaths, the man spoke again. "Are ya nuts? Were ya trying ta kill me?"
"No, of course not, why would I want to kill you" lied the man sarcastically.
"Yeah, I thought so, you wouldn't dare kill me, the great Spike" sneered the man stupidly.
The hooded figure sighed, how stupid could a person get, he thought to himself. This idiot couldn't even identify sarcasm.
Now that the man was out of the corner, his features seemed much clearer. The man had a thick face which strongly resembled a pig, with little blue eyes. The man clearly needed exercise, because he was a little over what one might "fat".
To the hooded figure's horror, the rumbling noise- one which he'd heard before cam again. He looked back at the door, the door was changing again, he subconsciously re-collected his previous encounter with the Boggart and as he saw the door change shape, panic engulfed him. "Aeron Septor, Aeron Septor" he yelled at the door.
The transformation abruptly stopped and the mid- transformed Boggart slowly turned back into the door. The man heaved a sigh and turned to look upon Spike again. Spike had back into the corner, the second he caught sight of the door changing and he stood in the dark, covering his eyes, his back towards the door, facing the corner.
"I-Is it g-gone?" stuttered the man, slowly turning his back and looking between his fingers
"Of course it is, you moron, now stop sucking your thumb there and come here" commanded the Hooded figure.
"Really it is?" said Spike, coming back with a relaxed expression. He quickly looked around, then puffed out his chest and spoke again "Of course, it is, it probably ran away after seeing me and my majestic greatness". He bragged with a big smile.
"Yeah, whatever you idiot" said the figure.
"Hey, who're you calling an idiot?" complained Spike with a finger raised.
"You obviously, but that aside do you have it?" questioned the figure. This seemed to be the part that the figure truly wanted to discuss. The anxiety in his voice was obvious.
"Yes, I've got it" replied Spike, taking out a large wooden box, about the size of a pineapple from his robes. He put it in the hooded figure hungry arms, which grabbed the box almost immediately.
The hooded figure looked at the box, though his greedy eyes, he'd waited for this for so long, he'd waited a very long time indeed. With this, he would be unstoppable, unbeatable and invincible. He'd show all those blasted people for messing with him; they'd all pay very dearly, every one, even Ronath, especially Ronath.
He tried to open it, but to his great irritation, the box wouldn't budge. He slowly turned his head towards Spike, who seemed to be trying to suppress a grin. "It's got a shadow lock on it" said the hooded figure.
"I know" replied Spike, who grinning with pride over his trick.
"Well then open it, you fool" yelled the figure. These days every other idiot seemed to pull a trick on him, he thought. If only, this fat buffoon wasn't the cousin of the chief of the Shadow raiders, he'd have killed him already.
"No" said Spike, seemingly cross."First say pretty please"
The figure held the bridge of his nose, sighing at Spike's immense retardedness. Taking deep breaths, he tried to control his rage. He put up his fists, about to hurt the fat man, but stopped himself on the last second. This was the most important day of his life and this one moment a turning point, one that was too important and yet, this spoilt brat was playing with him. What timing, he wondered. They send the dumbest of the dumb pack, on the most crucial day. Maybe he should have specified, that they send someone with a brain bigger than a walnut. He felt a strong urge to punch Spike on the nose. No, he couldn't loose his temper, he told himself. He needed the contents of that box.
With his fists held in the air, he spoke "P-pretty please". His rage and refusal were quite evident, but Spike appeared not to notice, satisfied he placed a finger over the box and moved it in a circular pattern.
A great pop sounded in the air and the lid of the box suddenly slid open to reveal the mysterious contents of the box. In there, sitting on a small purple cushion was a pale green stone. One so bright and luminous, that it seemed to emit its own light with great outlandish brilliance.
The hooded figure eyed Spike; even he seemed to be captivated by the stone's mysterious beauty. He quickly pocketed the stone and shuffled through his robes, apparently looking for something. He then pulled out a bunch of papers held together by a paper clip and handed them along with the box to Spike, who seemed to look quite dissatisfied with the exchange.
"There now, all done. You can leave now" said the hooded figure looking at Spike with repulsion.
"Yeah, alright; No need to kick me out, I can leave by me self you know." he said looking very cross. He slowly turned and turned, into a dark shape. And then again he spoke " Oh, yeah and Randall, chief I mean, has a message for you- don't forget your oath to the Shadow raiders." he said the last part pointing one of his pudgy fingers towards the figure. With that said he abruptly vanished into thin air.
With Spike gone, the hooded figure relaxed; he sat down on the dust covered ground relieved that everything was going according to his plan. As soon as he sat, a voice split the quiet night air, it was a breathtakingly cold and chilly voice- seemingly arising with no apparent source for it seemed equally distributed among the air.
"Quick, perform the ritual" it said slowly.
"Yes, master" replied the man unsurprised. He pulled out a long wooden box, which was extremely odd since a box couldn't possibly fit into the robed the figure was wearing. He placed his palms on the box and carefully opened it. The box seemed to be mostly empty, its bottom was covered in a red loincloth and the only contents seemed to be, a small glass vial and a mysterious rag covered object.
He placed the stone next to the ragged object, and started mumbling to himself. He pulled back his long clothing covering his left hand and lifted it up; he then closed his and gritted his teeth.
As time passed, sweat beaded the man's hand and all his visible skin that was not covered; he seemed stressed out, because he'd been constantly panting for a while now. He then raised his arm even higher, increasing his panting, but then something very peculiar happened that very instant- the room which was only lighted with a few moon light, was now completely engulfed in bright red light.
In his palm, now millimeters away and floating was a strange luminant ball, it was, in every manner- quite the peculiar sight indeed. The sphere's core was occupied by a small bright flame, shielded by a cover of pure blue water, which was in return, layered by a very think compressed layer of clearly visible grayish-white air. The sphere itself seemed to radiate with power. With great effort the man pressed the hand wielding the power sphere towards the small wooden chest.
By now, a dark turquoise colored three-dimensional circle had appeared over the ragged object and the stone, thin purple strands stuck out of it and connected themselves to both, the object and the stone. From the moment, the power sphere touched the hovering circle and till the moment the last of the sphere had been taken in, the circle gleamed many colors which in turn lit up the room in varying shades.
The glow seized almost immediately, even the sphere and the circle suddenly vanished. The man lied on his back, out of breath and weary. And the voice then, came yet again.
"Fool, weakling" reprimanded the voice.
"I-I'm sorry master, forgive Me." apologized the man, through his deep fatigue.
"Even you do not possess enough power for this, blast it, blast it all." it said. "I should've chosen someone better, someone more powerful, someone maybe like Ronath"
"No, master" opposed the man. "Not Ronath, not him master; I'm better, more loyal and in every manner better than that scumbag."
"So you say, but the difference in power is evident, though I doubt he would be willing to help, us. Well, either way, your Trigram Spell is way too weak for the job; I need someone else, someone.... No, wait I've found one."
"What are you talking about, master? found who?" questioned the figure.
"Even though you could not perform the ritual, the presence of the Aurora stone has clearly expanded my reach, now I'm able to sense one; Its a boy, he is the last one of them."
" Wait what, I thought all of them were dead by now, how is it possible, how could one still survive master?" said the man clearly shocked due to the information.
"I do not know how but, not to worry my dear servant; I see him, he is young and I see that he will be here within the week. We must make preparations, if we manipulate him properly we can use him to our benefit, after all- a young mind is the easiest one to influence." declared the voice, with a smug touch to it.
"Yes, master and then, all those fools will pay dearly, they will for once in their miserable life's see what true power means." laughed out the figure, completely delighted by the idea.
"All in good time, but first we must obtain him and his power. If we are lucky and he complies with us, I shall be back before 'the incident' but if not, we shall take him and go on with our plan after the 'incident', is that understood?.
"Yes, master; and just so you know master, I made sure to erase all traces of our presence here" he added, pointing to the ground where there were no footprints on the dust covert ground.
"All right, but we must return immediately, before anybody suspects anything." said the voice.
The man said a quick 'Yes, master' and then began packing his belongings, both- old and new. As soon as he finished, he paced towards the door; with mild hesitation he slowly gripped the handle and pulled it. He swiftly got out and closed the door after pulling out his long cape. All was quiet again.
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