Ancients of 318:

The lost book of Sortilege

By: Jesse Aaron Blackboume

Dedications

To: the loving memory of, my father, David Norman Blackboume Jr.

To: my children, Lillith Wyvern-Rose Blackboume and Xavier Draconis Blackbourne.

To: the family

Ancients of 318

The Lost Book of Sortilege

Copyright © 2009,2011 by Jesse Aaron Blackboume.

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4502-8213-0 (pbk)

ISBN: 978-1-4502-8214-7 (clth)

ISBN: 978-1-4502-8215-4 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2010918872

Printed in the United States of America

iUniverse rev. date: 05/13/2011

Contents

Imperial Archive:

Volume 777

Author: Hex Sortilege

Magical we

To The Family … Call me Sortilege

Descendants of Genocide

From the Club to the Court House.

Poke her with Death.

Hopeless love

Cats and the fiddle …

The fall

The winter

Dragons in the Monster’s Closet.

I stand alone!

A reflective conversation

Blood Dancer

Bon Temps on Oberon’s dime.

The proclamation

Long Live Emperor Oberon

Josh’s awakening statement.

Carol’s awakening statement.

Reunion

She walked slowly along the edge of the battlefield as she gazed with her empty black eyes upon the bodies of the fallen soldiers and what remained of the charred rubble that was once a small, quiet town. Her long, ash colored hair gently swept across the blood soaked ground. She could not help but feel pride from her accomplishment as she thought, Surely I will be in Zorrati’s favor now.

The demon princess was beside herself with glee; however, she only allowed herself a half grin to express her delight. She continued her prideful walk through the battlefield - until her eyes caught the glimpse of a strange dark green object clutched in the grasp of the burnt skeletal remains of a fallen enemy. She curiously walked toward the object, realizing how strange it was that the body was burned to bone and ash, yet the object remained unharmed.

What sorcery is this? she whispered under her breath as she stepped close enough to realize the object in question was some sort of book.

The book was bound in dark green leather and held shut by a silver lock. Sculpted into the leather cover was a familiar symbol of an upside down triangle with three lines extending from the center, stopping at its corners. Underneath this strangely familiar symbol were the words, Imperial Archive Volume 777 written by Hex Sortilege.

The demon recognized that name, it belonging to one of her enemies’ generals. She knew there must be some sort of secret plans or hidden location buried in the text of this book. The book was magically sealed; however, her demonic powers easily overwhelmed the sorcery holding it shut and she ripped the silver lock off the book. As she opened it, a note fell out of the front cover. She grabbed the note quickly before it landed on the ground and read it before continuing on to the text of the manuscript. The note read…

Dear Olivia,

Please take this manuscript to my old teacher, Lord Vladimir Draconis. It is the latest volume of the Imperial Archives that I have written. It contains a detailed record of the events that have led to this war. Tell him I am sending him this volume so that he may use its contents to convince your father and the rest of the Nest members to send assistance to the Empire. I am aware of the Circle’s laws on staying neutral, but if the Circle does not intervene on these matters, the balance of the entire world may be at risk.

I cannot deliver it myself, as you probably already know; I am being hunted by the Circle. In fact, you are probably the one hunting me. I understand that you are doing your job and being loyal to your duty. I respect that. But, I have not lost my mind. I did what I did only out of instinct. I had no control over myself. Hopefully, after you read this text, you will understand. I only ask that you do as you have always done, and just trust me.

-Hex-

Zirdo a Ozien de a Vovin!

After reading the note, the demon crumbled it in her hand and tossed it over her shoulder. She then continued on to read the pages of text within the leather bound cover…

Imperial Archive:

Volume 777

Author: Hex Sortilege

With awakening statements written by Carol Armstrong and Josh De’Monte,

this volume of text is part of the Archives of Oberon’s Empire. This and all other volumes of the Archives are to be used for the historical education of future generations of ancients, and it should never leave the archive unless permission is granted by the Emperor. The crime of removing a volume of the archives without permission is punishable by no less than one year of incarceration at the proving grounds and no more than death. Offenders will face Imperial Justice.

My name is Hex Sortilege, and I have been instructed by Emperor Enoch Oberon to write this volume of the Imperial Archives. I have never written an archive before, so this will probably be different than the other texts in your studies you are more familiar with. Why Enoch has asked me to write this volume is still a mystery to me; however, he is Enoch, and he never decides anything without a reason. I have learned to trust in that fact over the years. The Oberon family has always felt that documentation of important events is critical to our survival.

Malich always used to say, We can’t learn from the mistakes of the past if we don’t know what they are.

So it has become tradition for all ancients to document their awakenings in their own words, and that the Empire should keep a record of all major events. I chose to include Carol and Josh’s statements because their awakenings came at a time of significant importance, and their statements hold valuable information that correlate with the rest of the events I am documenting.

As a stipulation for me writing this archive, I have asked the Emperor if I could include some of my poetry. He, of course, agreed to the stipulation. I do hope you enjoy them; but, if you do not, I don’t care. I am the one writing this archive and you are a student; therefore, you have no say in the matter. The rest of the archive will be an accounting of the events that have taken place in Louisiana during the month of February in the year 2009.

Magical we

Here be us, magical we Hiding among normality

Mystical souls of earthly desire

Dancing around our wondrous fire

Whispering secrets into the wind

Swimming the waters of the river’s bend

Chasing the Wolf through the moonlight

The blood will flow when the Bats take flight

And the elves are ready to join the fight

The Demons wait in want and regret

While the Necromancers observe the new found threat

The Angels sing a song of the king

While the humans are blind to everything

The dragons try and keep the balance

But achieving that takes more than talent

The Wiccans hang on to the old religions

While the untrained cultists make bad decisions

Spirits dance behind the veil

While the Gods do hope that we prevail

Hear these words, for this prophet is true

Among the many we are the few

You may not see us, but we’re all around you.

To The Family … Call me Sortilege

I remember when we were called family

When I was known as just Phoenix

And our bonds were tight knit

Like a genetic double helix

Most of us searching the quick fix

To life’s little turns, twists, and cruel tricks

I remember the what-am-I

The what-is-he

The who-is-who

And the what-could-she-be

Misinformed of our true nature

Dancing like puppets

For a twisted mind’s pleasure

But being there for each other

Hoping not to fail one another

Follow the leader further

Every day something new to discover

Searching to infinity

To find ourselves a new identity

Lost in a spiral

Of mystical insanity

Then hope turned to dread

When old one-eye lost his head

And Lies and deceit

Made the Outlaw’s bed

A Raven’s manipulation

Sowed the seeds of destruction

And all blamed she

Who was mad with confusion

Though the Countess held the strings

Of all these precious things

The Raven set up

With betrayal in her wings

Some fools followed suit

As the pied piper

Played a trickster’s flute

Fussing and fighting

Betraying and forgetting

Fighting over scraps

That were never ours for the taking

A family some ran from

When they heard the storms come

Their minds then eroded

And they forgot where they came from

So call me story boy

Cause you fail to hear

Bitch I got your story boy

Right fucking here

So was it all just pretend

It wasn’t faked then

When I called you my friend

But here is a fact that can be understood

Some of them never knew

The meaning of brotherhood

So hear it now near and far

Hear the sound of the dragon’s call

It pulls them close

And draws them near it

But most of them

Won’t even feel it

Their vanity has betrayed it

And utterly destroyed it

You all were my family

And I will never forget it

Now I know some of you

Have always been here and stayed true

And to my true Brothers and Sisters

I still have love for you

But a change has been made

And a new day has dawned

New life has taken over

Now phoenix is gone

He left with the age

And now I turn the page

So here I am

Call me Sortilege!

Descendants of Genocide

We are the descendants of genocide

The truth can be seen

Look deep into your own eyes

Feel it in your veins

Deep in the blood where it lies

Waiting in sleep

As it prepares to arise

Our ancestors betrayed

And caught by surprise

Women and children burned

Alive in their sleep

Fathers and husbands that returned

Could do nothing but weep

For the loss of their families

They fought back in grief

Laid waste to their enemies

But the victory was brief

For the past is revealed

By our present state

Hunted and slaughtered

Genocide was their fate

For the Crusades and Inquisitions

Lay blood thirsty in wait

Jealousy and greed

Fueled their war and filled their plate

They erased us from history

And raped our culture

Made fables of our family

Hoping to keep us out of the future

They stole our practices

And tainted our faith

How naive were they

Who thought we vanished without a trace

But the blood has survived

Thin as can be

The genetics still thrive

I feel it within me

The lies were a myth

Passed down by fools

And you’re right to be pissed

BUT THIS IS YOUR FAMILY!

YOUR BLOOD AND YOUR HERITAGE!

THIS IS WHERE YOU CAME FROM!

HOW DARE YOU NOT DEFEND IT!

More truth shall come

In time when you’re ready

To those who see the light

I say be patient, hold steady.

From the Club to the Court House.

Four fucking days! That’s all it took for everything to go from happy and peaceful to all out unholy hell. It all started when King Enoch sent me to investigate a new ancient reported to him by Bast. She told Enoch this new blood could have been an elf; but she was not sure, because the girl she spotted seemed to have a dark aura about her. Of course, it is possible for elves to carry a dark aura, but it’s not common.

As I passed the entrance of a club called The Underground, I felt her. Her presence was strong and radiating passion, and it was obvious she was not trying to hide it. I began to wonder if she was either too inexperienced to hide it or if she was looking for attention. I showed the doorman my I.D. and walked into the elevator to ride down to the basement. The club was literally underground.

The entire main room was dimly lit, except for the stainless steel bar in the center and the hardwood dance floor to the right, which were both teeming with the soft glow of black lights. The dance floor was also littered with lazer lights and strobes. The bartenders were performing tricks as they were mixing drinks. They were tossing bottles into the air, flipping glasses, and breathing fire all to the rhythmic beat of the music. I would have spent some time watching the show, but as I walked towards the dance floor there she was. The elf was dancing and flirting with every guy she could get her hands on. Her obvious attempts to draw attention to herself only showed her inner desperation for affection, which is definitely not an attractive quality in a woman.

I walked up behind her on the dance floor and said, Hello there. while I anxiously rolled my fingers around my dagger in the sleeve of my trench coat.

As she turned her head to look at me, the fluorescent black light swept across her pale skin shining the few flakes of glitter placed carefully upon her cheeks. She was short, but her platform shoes made her as tall as I was. She was wearing fishnet stockings under a plaid knee high skirt, which was complimenting only a black bra with a long sleeve, fishnet shirt over it. Her hair was unnaturally straight, she must have used a straightening iron, and it was dyed dark purple, like the color of concord grapes; and the makeup on her face was various shades of grey and black.

When her ice blue eyes met mine, she smiled, leaned over to me pressing her cheek upon mine, touched her black lips to my ear and whispered, Not many Ancients around these parts. What brings you my way?

I guided her chin with the tips of my fingers back to eye contact and said with a smile, Your beauty and your soul called out to me.

I was going to try and seduce her into giving me some answers like Bast had suggested, but I decided that just wasn’t my style.

So I quickly took on a more serious persona while in a scolding tone I questioned her, I could sense you from across the street. When did you get into town, and why did you not make yourself known?

Her flirtatious smile turned quickly to a scowl as she grabbed me by the lapel of my black leather trench coat and dragged me into the nearby women’s restroom. My black fedora almost fell off my head, but I was able to quickly secure it with my right hand.

She flung open the door tossed me inside throwing me up against a wall as she checked every stall to ensure there were no witnesses. Then she locked the door. As she turned around her eyes turned quickly from ice blue to bright red. She then held up her right hand and red sparks of electricity began to arc back and forth between her fingertips. She was obviously quite powerful. Elves are naturals when it comes to manipulating others’ emotions, but manipulating energy takes them years to master.

She then launched a small bolt of red lightning, hitting the wall next to my head as she spoke. I came here to get away from your pathetic Council and your bullshit rules. If I can’t even come to Shreveport to get away from you then I’ll just have to start taking you all out. I will kill you all one by one if I…

I could not stop myself from interrupting her with my uncontrollable laughter. This girl could not have gotten me off my feet, even on her best day, if I had not allowed her to. Even though she was powerful, she was in no way a threat to me. I decided to show off a bit, so I hovered about a foot off the ground.

I condensed the air around her to put out her little light show and make her sit still for a second as I began to explain, "Little girl, I am not here to tell you what to do. I am not part of the High Council. In fact, the High Council has not been welcome in this town for quite some time. I am, however, a close friend and associate of the man who is in charge in this town. Though there may not be any Council influence here, there are rules and you just broke a couple. You should not assume so much. Assumptions are the mother of all fuck ups. First, I am a high ranking member of the Circle of Dragons, so you will respect me. Second, this city is not a Council

city. It is an Imperial city, and you just insulted a lord of this city. Now, I will take you to our king and you can explain to him what you are doing here. Oh, and be warned, he’s a vampire, so he already has an ill disposition toward elves, even elves with auras as dark as yours."

I then grasped her arm and lead her though the crowd of gothic wannabes and spoiled emo brats, pushing and moving people out of my way; the whole time thinking to myself that the occupancy limit in this place has pretty much been thrown out the window. As we entered the elevator to get up to the ground floor, she looked over at me with worry and fear in her eyes, almost as a child would look at a father knowing they were in trouble and trying to gain sympathy.

I felt sorry for her, so I said, Don’t worry, doll. This is not a Council city, and we do not cut off your head for speaking your mind. You just need to know who is in charge and we need to know who you are. This is for your own protection as well as ours.

It was strange that I was trying to comfort this girl. Normally, I was not so nice, especially when it comes to refugees from a Council city. The last time something like this happened, I had to bring the king a smoldering pile of embers rather than the live invader. That one had it coming, he tried to use a flame thrower on me, and I had to redirect the flames back at him. What kind of an idiot uses a flamethrower on a dragon? Anyway, he was also a guy; so my kindness towards this girl was probably simply due to my kinder disposition towards the female gender.

I helped her across Market Street to my car, which was a 1988 red Chevy Camaro, and then I opened the door for her to get in.

She seemed surprised as she sarcastically said, Oh, are you a gentleman now? I didn’t expect that from someone like you!

I was not amused with her sarcastic tones. But, then again, what was I to expect from a damn elf. She was silent the entire drive. I tried to make conversation but she just whipped her head around to turn away from me. I began to think that maybe I should not have been so nice in the elevator. I was not sure which attitude I hated more: the frightened child or the stuck up brat. All I knew for sure was that both of her attitudes were merely fronts to hide her true personality. I could not wait to try and break down her walls to see the real person behind her masks.

I rolled down the windows and turned the radio all the way up. I remember the first song that was called, Welcome to the freak show. It was ironic actually; the lyrics seemed to fit the situation perfectly. I could tell she realized the irony behind it because her face cracked into a slight

smile. Until, that was, she saw I was looking. Then she quickly turned herself back into a bitch.

As I turned on my blinker to take a right into the Highland neighborhood, I figured I would go ahead and let Enoch know I was coming and why. I did not want her to hear the conversation, so I used my telepathic connection with the king to inform him of my impromptu arrival.

WHAT THE HELL! the girl yelled, as if scolding a dog.

What? I asked quite innocently even though I knew why she was upset.

You were driving with your eyes closed.

I smiled, looked over and noticed her eyes had become red again. So I made sure to keep eye contact with her when I said, Calm the fuck down … I got this!

Her eyes faded to blue and she cracked a smile from the right side of her mouth. I could see some of her true personality peeking through. Something about that moment just stuck with me. I think it was because she did not try to hide her smile this time. She let go, and allowed herself to be comfortable with me.

She finally spoke up to make friendly conversation. I have never been in an Imperial city before, she said. How is it different from a Council city?

Without looking at her - and keeping my eyes on the road - I began to explain, Your Council cities are ruled by the leaders of several different factions. They have to put everything to a vote between themselves. So they sit for days locked away in their overpriced hotel rooms, bickering and fighting until they all finally agree on something. They don’t even bother asking their people what they want done. They just make all the decisions amongst themselves and say to hell with everyone else. And if you disagree with them and you’re not on their precious Council, then they have you killed. And, of course, they don’t do it themselves. The cowards hire others to do their dirty work for them. An Imperial city, like ours, is run by one man, the king. Sure, he has his dukes, lords, duchess, and ladies which he allows having rule over various territories amongst the city; but overall, he is the final word and law. This may seem unbalanced to you, but he must make choices in the best interest of the people he rules over. Otherwise, the Law of Challenge could be invoked.

She looked somewhat confused as she asked, What’s the Law of Challenge?

I suddenly realized this girl really knew nothing about the Empire at all.

With a sigh of irritation I explained further, "Anyone can challenge the king for his throne if he is not looking after the best interest of the people. If one person alone cannot defeat him, then a group may challenge. And when

he is defeated, the group that defeated him must then vote on a new king. Basically, the king is checked by the people and the people are checked by the king. Decisions are made faster and we get things done without having to bicker and argue about it like your pathetic Council."

She immediately perked up and shouted out with a disgusted and insulted tone, THEY ARE NOT MY COUNCIL! I want nothing more to do with them.

Just then I pulled into the driveway of Enoch’s house. She looked very confused. Her confusion was probably due to the fact that we were in a less than rich area of town, and Enoch’s house was nothing special, just a plain one-story, three-bedroom, beige brick home, with a wood roof painted white with black shingles. Really, the only thing special about it was the fact that it had a rundown guest house in the back. This came in handy for court meetings and parties. I stepped out of the car and walked around to her side. Right before I got to her door she quickly stepped out of the car and shut the door.

She then strutted by me and said, Oh, did I ruin your chance to be a gentleman? I’m sorry!

At that moment, I knew Enoch was not going to like this elf at all.

She skipped up to the door then stopped to look back at me and said, "Are you coming? You need to hurry up because I don’t know these people. Oh, and,