Chương 6: Chaos is coming

Q'Shar sat beside the phone, his gaze glued to the device as if it would disappear if he left it alone for just a split second. He was ready to hit Answer the instant it vibrated. He used to resent needing a special phone—touchscreens were hard to use—but now he was thankful for the ability to slam a button as fast as possible, without having to worry about scratching the screen. The door to the room opened, and Q'Shar heard Hori speak in a low voice.

"You think if you stare hard enough, he will call sooner?"

"He should have called a few hours ago."

"Then why not contact him first?" Q'Shar moved his eyes from the phone to give the speaker an annoyed glance before bringing them back to the screen.

"You don't call an exorcist when he's working."

"Fine, fine," Hori said with a sigh.

"All the stress about a slightly strange job. Aren't you tired of this kind of thing by now?"

"No." Hori stood in the doorway, his eyes glued to his friend, not sure how to broach the subject.

"Look," he started awkwardly.

"We are wasting quite a bit of resources trying to track down something we don't even know exists."

"We have resources to spare."

"And you are losing quite a bit of sleep. Do you have that to spare, too?" That gave Q'Shar pause—and Hori used it to continue.

"What if his father was simply wrong? What if he really did all of this out of desperation?" For the first time, Q'Shar looked up from the phone to look at his friend with raised eyebrows.

"You never actually met him, right?"

"I heard about—""I'm not asking about what you heard," he interrupted.

"I'm asking if you saw the man with your own two eyes."

"No." Q'Shar nodded with a light smile.

"Do you know what he was—what form he spent the last five hundred years in?"

"I heard that he sacrificed his body. So… a ghost?"

"No."

"A zombie or a lich?"

"Not even close."

"Fine," Hori rolled his eyes.

"What was he?"

"A head sealed in a jar," Q'Shar said slowly, enunciating every word.

"All that was left of the man was his head, sitting in a container. Preserved by a mixture of magic and technology."

"What?" Hori's question made his smile widen.

"Hard to reconcile with the terror from the stories, isn't it? He lost much of his power, but still, if you could feel his presence…" Q'Shar paused for a second, closing his eyes.

"When I was younger and began taking over deals with the Alhazred family, we ran into a dispute with one of the noble clans. That family had just changed leaders to one much younger and more ambitious—to a man who thought that the legends about our backers were just that, legends—so they pressured us to fold into their Frumentarii network."

"The bloodless massacre," someone else in the room whispered, and now everyone was listening to the conversation.

"Yes. We asked the Alhazreds for help, and they did 'help.' One night, that clan just disappeared, all but the previous patriarch. The man returned home to an empty house—no blood, no signs of battle. He went crazy after—some say with a little more help from the Alhazreds. And much of our power today is thanks to the disappearances from that night, so no, I'm not tired of this, and I don't regret the resources," he finished in a firm tone.

"Is it wise?" an older voice from the side interjected.

"Aren't you afraid that if we ever find whatever it is we are supposed to be looking out for, the same thing will happen to us?"

"It's risky, sure. Any business worth pursuing is risky."

"Why not find someone else who can use the same magic?" This time, the one interrupting was one of the younger recruits—ambitious and not yet taught proper etiquette.

"I heard that Alhazreds have to give up their humanity to gain their power." Q'Shar looked at the new speaker with light disapproval. It seemed Hori's question opened the floodgates. Q'Shar knew his father already had that conversation when he ran things, and it seemed now was his turn.

"No," he groaned.

"They don't give up humanity. They give up fear."

"So they're just fearless?"

"No." Q'Shar was feeling a headache coming, but all eyes were turned to him now.

"Not fearless, but unable to feel fear. You can block the sensations in the body with stimulants, sensations from the mind with enough training and magic, but the primal fears that sit in the soul—the fear of death, the fear of the unknown, and others like those—they can't be truly avoided. With one exception. The rites that all Alhazreds go through remove that very concept from their being, allowing them to look into the abyss without flinching, even when it looks back.

They do become a bit mad in the process, sure, but not necessarily inhuman." Q'Shar locked eyes with the young recruit before he could spit another question.

"And they don't like hearing idiotic gossip about their magic or their gods. They say some people disappeared for that." You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. This finally earned him some silence, in which Q'Shar looked back into Hori's eyes.

"And Samuel is no different from his forefathers. You can sense the presence of his god in his aura, can't you? Is that what unnerves you this much?" Hori finally broke eye contact, looking to the side, while Q'Shar simply brought his gaze back to the phone.

"And I have a gut feeling that if Samuel's father was right, we will find out soon." After another half hour of lying on the floor with my thoughts as my only company, I slowly sat up. My joints were stiff, and my head was pounding, but I could move. I immediately took another potion, gulped it down, and went into meditation. My spiritual world was a mess. The mana was all over the place, not under my control, but to my great relief, I saw no permanent damage.

After roughly thirty more minutes of getting my spirit under control, I was done. I wouldn't be casting any spells in the next few days, but the pain was more bearable now. Next, I took out the potion with holy water and bone dust. Reluctantly, I took a swig to make sure there was no risk of possession, in case the attack didn't kill the thing entirely. The soothing, warm energy filled me, and… nothing happened. I winced at the wasted resources and slowly got up to leave.

Even though it was still early in the morning, I drove to my client's apartment to get the boring part out of the way. After arriving, I knocked on the door, and when someone opened it, I reassured her that the job was done and she didn't have to worry. After receiving an envelope with money, I went back outside and called my broker. It barely took a second before someone picked up the phone. I waited to see if he would start with an explanation, but heard only silence, so I went right to the point.

"Did you know about the veins?"

"The veins?" came a confused answer. I scrunched my eyebrows, trying to decide whether he was acting or genuinely confused.

"There was an active mana vein in that place. And a spawn's nest tied to it. Almost got me killed."

"…Oh," my broker choked. I silently waited for him to choose his words, as I could practically hear the torrent of thoughts on the other end.

"We took the case because it was unusual. That's all. We didn't know anything," he explained slowly. I was still not sure. The Frumentarii had their own secrets, like everyone in the world of magic.

"So, just a hunch?" I could hear a groan from the other end.

"Look, this talk is not for the phone. Meet me at my place tomorrow at 1 p. m."

"Fine," I said, and the call disconnected. Well, it looked like I would get some answers tomorrow. I returned home and collapsed into bed, dreading sleep. I knew I really needed it, but the power I used had its side effects. And as much as I was incapable of having nightmares, the night after invoking the contract was the only exception. Finally, with a heavy heart, I closed my eyes. That night, I dreamed of the unknowable. Of the dead stars and the loneliness churning between them.

I meandered through massive black spires alongside processions of strange creatures with black chitin bodies and membranous wings. I played strange instruments in the halls of the slumbering one, with the pipers as my haunting, otherworldly companions. And I drowned—slowly falling to the bottom of the ocean and into something deeper and darker as the city of otherworldly geometry started to reveal its spectral spires. Its ancient master ready to open the gates for me.

I finally woke up on the floor, trying to cough up the non-existent water from my lungs. My fingertips were bloody from scratching the floor, as before waking up, I had tried to swim deeper and deeper into the dark, cold void. The next day, I waited impatiently for the meeting until the time finally came, and I drove to my broker. He lived in one of the wealthier apartment complexes.

Nothing fit for millionaires, but the building had been renovated recently, and I could see a security guard reading a newspaper in the booth. I entered the building, knocked on the door, and waited. After a moment, someone approached the door.

"Yes, honey?" came the voice of an elderly woman.

"Hello, ma'am. I'm here to pet the cats," I replied happily, like an excited teenager, cringing at the procedure I had to undergo. After that, I could hear lock after lock being opened and, focusing on the magic, I sensed several seals being deactivated. Finally, the door opened. Inside stood an elderly woman sporting a stereotypical grandmother appearance—a head of gray hair, glasses as thick as bottle glass, perched precariously on the end of her nose, and a hunched back.

Behind her, there was the inseparable entourage of all cat ladies—the cats. Many of them, in different shapes and sizes, wandered about, doing cat things. But I could see that a couple of them were always watching me, a spark of recognition in their gazes. I made my way inside.

"Tea? Coffee?" asked the woman.

"No, thank y—""I just baked cookies. Wait, I will get you some," she cut me off, apparently having already made the decision.

"You really—" I started as the woman turned her back and went to the kitchen.

"Don't have to," I finished into the now-empty room. Sighing, I sat at the table, shooing one of the cats off its spot—which earned me an irritated hiss—and waited, looking around. It was a typical old apartment, from the old wooden furniture to the mandatory old, gray, creepy photos, and a sewing kit inside a cookie box. A typical old apartment—aside from a few enchantments that could've taken my head off if triggered. The place also had a massive number of cat pictures.

The felines in them somehow posed, much like an employee would for a badge photo. The lady returned with a tray of cookies and tea. I knew arguing was pointless, so I took the offered food and quickly devoured it. The grandma just sat there, smiling, as I ate, making small talk. Finally, three cookies and a cup of tea later, she stood up and went to the door leading further into the apartment.

"There you go, honey," she said, and opened it to reveal a lavishly decorated room with red Persian carpets on the walls and floor, and a couple of distinctly Egyptian ornaments. In the middle of the room stood a small table with a comfortable-looking chair on one side and a stand with a massive pillow on the other. On the pillow sat a giant Maine Coon cat, while a few more animals strolled around the room. The cat looked at me with a grin and opened his mouth.

"Hello, Samuel. Long time no see," he greeted.

"Hello, Q'Shar," I greeted in return.

"I see you were already served some cookies and tea, but maybe you want something more concrete? Wine, whiskey, beer? Blood of the innocent?" The cat purred, apparently happy about the joke.

"The blood's only for special occasions—you know, dark rituals, world domination," I answered flatly. At that, he made a surprised face and then shook his head in mock disappointment.

"Ah, yes. How could I have forgotten?"

"Your servants are getting older every year. If my memory serves me correctly, you were once cared for by pharaohs and only the most beautiful of priestesses, and now, an old lady and her cookies?" I asked with the most forced curiosity I could muster.

"Well, I heard your family had a mansion and a vault instead of an apartment and a warehouse. Times change, I guess," he shot back.

"I guess so." We let a moment of silence linger before the cat broke it.

"Well then, let's get to the point." Now, his face turned serious.

"Leave us." At that firm command, the other cats rose and left without a word. A couple of silencing and anti-spying enchantments activated as the door closed.