Endymia:: Chapter 1

Chapter One

‘There, in front of you. It’s your only way out of this prison, this life, this misery. You want to be free? Take this chance, you’ll never get another. But you will have to kill them; if not, they’ll kill you. They’ll take your chance, and they’ll take your body. They’ll remove all of your organs and then toss the empty you in a trashcan when they’re done, to be turned into food for animals, and eaten. Do you want to be eaten by a dog? Wake up, Fiore. This is your chance, your one and only chance; change your destiny.’

Imaginary or not, the voice knew the truth. Fiore could feel the presence in front of him, watching with beady eyes, in shock and in greed, he could feel the vile aura of the two chubby men in front of him, ready to feast on his flesh. Their intentions were clear; they will kill and dissect him; was it for knowledge, for power, for money? He did not know, or care. This was his chance, his one chance, and should even the Gods try to stop him, he would take it.

“I can’t believe what I am seeing, James,” The older of the two, probably about forty years old, spoke shakily, not in fear, but both nervously and in excitement, “A human, alive and breathing, he could be centuries old!”

“How do we know it’s even human, Gerald?” The younger replied, though more confident in speech than his elder, “Look at his skin; it’s changing, morphing, like when you’re looking into a kaleidoscope and twist the lens. It’s like he’s not even made of human flesh. Besides, this technology we’ve discovered, we didn’t even know the Carthaginians had the ability to create it; we could be dealing with a completely different life-form here… and there could be more of them.”

Gerald thought for a few seconds and then pulled out a small radio from his pockets, “General Fryloko back in Washington should be notified. We were told to contact the command centre if we found anything which could pose a threat, remember? We don’t know who this man is… or what.”

James said nothing; he was staring at Fiore in front of him, floating in the glass tube. Bubbles, though small, seemed to come from the mouth at an increasing rate, it was not until the glass vibrated and he felt a small tremor along the floor that James said something, “I think something’s happening.”

For the few minutes beforehand, Fiore’s body had been motionless, held in place by various metal wires and tubes. Not now though; the wires had slowly begun to retract into the surrounding walls and surfaces like living veins. His almost non-existent breathing had become heavier and fast paced; larger air bubbles had started to seep through the gap between his face mask and his mouth as it slowly removed itself from his face. The electrical equipment in the room begun to act strangely; the computers and machinery had started to make strange, grinding noises, the lights and computer screens were flickering on and off. Now, the liquid within Fiore’s tube began to drain, quickly. Fiore, the man in front of the two explorers, began to move for the first time in years. He felt stiff, his bones and muscles ached as he stretched and made sure everything was in working order.

“He’s waking up. What did we do?” James, astounded by what he was seeing, asked his friend for answers, “Are they coming?”

“The General has said to go back to the portal immediately, he’s sending a few marines for security.”

“You can’t leave…”

A voice came from the direction of Fiore; confused, they looked at the dripping wet man in the glass tube. He was tall; he wore a dark green robe covering his entire body from his shoulders down to his feet, leaving only his face and arms exposed. His green eyes, bloodshot, stared at the two men in curiosity. Without warning, they began to glow a deep magenta, his hands, which he raised to the glass, soon did the same.

It was not a normal thing to watch. From his hands, now appearing to be alight with magenta flames, shot an incredible flash of pink-purple light through the thick glass cylinder surrounding him and sent shards flying across the room, one of which slicing the arm of the older explorer, who let out a cry in pain and clutched his injury with his muddy, scratched hand. Fiore, licking his sharp teeth as he saw the red blood drip from the older man’s arm onto the floor, was now out of his prison, and stood upright no more than 10 feet in front of the pair.

“Who are you?” The older of the two asked, trying to hold back the pain he was in, “What are you?”

“You need not worry about such things, my chubby little friend.” The unnatural, familiar voice came from Fiore’s mouth, and although he had no recollection of what his real voice sounded like, he knew this was not his own. This voice was of that which spoke to him earlier. “I’m going to kill you.”

The two men’s pupils constricted and became unnaturally small that it seemed they both suddenly developed Miosis. They turned and tried to run through the door, but with a simple flick of his wrist, Fiore closed the door instantly. Slamming shut and causing three loud echoes to be heard through the corridors behind it.

“Destiny has decided the fate of three men today. I am one of them; I have been released from my prison. I have been given a second chance. You two however…” Fiore smirked brutally, loving the expressions on the two male faces. But his smirk quickly turned to a frown as the older of the two removed a small, metal object from his pocket, grasped in both hands and pointing it at Fiore.

“What is that?”

“It’s a gun, come any closer and it will kill you. Now open this door!”

“That small thing will kill me?” Fiore laughed, and took three steps forward. The explorer fired his pistol and watched as the bullet flew towards Fiore. It missed. Fiore laughed again, but stopped quickly and raised his own weapon, his right hand. Once again, it began to glow magenta, he pointed it at a nearby wall and, almost telepathically, ripped a single screw from a machine and sent it flying towards the older explorer’s thigh. He didn’t miss; he watched as the screw pierced the flesh, crushed the bone and the man as he fell to the floor in agony. Fiore then turned to James, who let out a small yelp.

“While we give your colleague time to think about the situation, I’m going to ask you a few questions. Understand?” He nodded, and Fiore continued. “Tell me; where am I?”

Confused, the younger man paused in disbelief, he thought it strange that Fiore did not know where he was; he spoke,

“I don’t know. Gerald and I were sent here to discover what was on the other side of the Artefact; an object we found in a Carthaginian cavern brought us here.”

“Carthage… I can’t remember much of it any more… How is it?”

“Carthage was almost completely destroyed over two thousand years ago…”

“I see,” Fiore paused, lost in thought about his lost home, “Where is this Artefact?”

“It only works one-way, it didn’t travel with us. The Artefact is back in a military base in Washington.”

“Liar!” Fiore’s voice got louder, “I heard you speaking about a portal. The artefact is merely used as a medium for a portal to be opened. Portals have always had two entrances. This is the way of all portals. Lie to me and I will remove your limbs.”

“Enough!” shouted Gerald, still wincing from the pain in his thigh, “Remember your loyalties, James; the more information you give to this man, the more dangerous he becomes to our nation! You have already said too much!”

“I assure you that practice of the rule, ‘Speak only when spoken to’, would be in the best interest of your health.” Fiore snarled at the older man, “Now, I am sure your allegiance will prevent you from discussing the whereabouts of this portal, however, to prevent a painful demise you’ll answer my last question. Who is General Fryloko?”

After a moment of silence to reflect on the last few minutes, James spoke, “Fryloko is the man in charge of this expedition. Gerald and I were recruited into the US Military after we found the artefact in Carthage. We were told to contact Fryloko if we discovered a hostile force.”

‘A hostile force?’ Fiore’s expression changed as he moved forward in disgust, ‘I suppose that is what you would have described me as… Hostile; it saddens me that the Carthaginian Mage has been reduced to such terms. Nevertheless, this ignorance will not go unpunished.”

He lifted his right arm once again, and the sight of the eerie magenta flame made the two men cower in fear, “You two have taught me a lot about Destiny today.”

The two men screamed in agony as Fiore waved his arm in a sword-like fashion, slicing their limbs, torso and faces as if they were naught but sponge. Blood sprayed across the floor and surrounding walls as arteries ruptured and the men sprawled around for cover, bones cracked and flesh ripped. The screams stopped in seconds; the floor now looked like a sick, human soup, death had filled the air and Fiore wore a sadistic smile. He walked through the human remains towards the door, opened it with the same flick of his wrist, and shut it behind him.

‘Good work brotherrr…’

“They did not need to die.”

‘Why? They would have killed you. Destiny gave you a second chance and she does not take kindly to being rejected. Who are you to refuse the path?’

“They were innocents. They had no part in putting me there. Their presence was merely coincidence.”

‘The death of innocent’s means nothing if they’re part of the plan to destroy you. It’s obvious that they would have killed if they were able to, but you’re stronger than that. Get over your foolish morals and search this place for answers! Where are we?’

Now that he was out of his cage, he was beginning to dislike the voice. He would have never killed an innocent before like that, not in that way. He couldn’t remember where he learnt such brutal techniques; he had always been a user of nature, a shape-shifter and what he considered a ‘good’ mage. What had just happened was certainly not a good thing; he needed to rid himself of the evil brewing inside of him and fast.

He could move either down the corridor on the right, or the one to the left. Either way looked disgustingly smooth and shined as if to say, ‘I’m better than you.’ He hated it. He thought for a moment, were there other people like him in this place? If so, would they be contaminated by this same evil too? He wondered whether he would be safe if he tried to save anyone who might be here. He decided against waking anyone up intentionally should he find them, he would hate to kill another as this voice would undoubtedly demand. He walked to the left, and saw a number of metal, ornate doors similar to the one which hid him from view. He sneered. Had the explorers seen what was inside these ones too? He was scared to think about what might be behind the doors; he didn’t want to enter any of them, just in case. He took a turn around the next corner and found himself standing in front of a larger door emblazoned with a large emblem, a giant circle, with another inside of it, connected by a small straight line at the bottom. He entered, and was shocked by the contents.

It was truly magnificent, if it weren’t for the small window revealing a fragment the world he was in, he would have become enticed by the enormous, green, glowing crystal levitating in the centre of the room, throwing out fiery bolts of magical energy which thankfully, he managed to avoid as he ran to the window.

‘So this is it.’

“…You know this place?”

‘We were always meant to be here. Don’t you feel it?’

The window revealed a strange, unknown planet to Fiore. He saw short grass, littered with stone and marble ruins, much like the broken houses and temples which he would have once said belonged to Carthage, had he not known it had met its demise many years ago. The scattered remains of what appeared to be a city continued all the way up to the horizon, where he could make out the top of a forest which he figured surrounded the building he was in and the surrounding grounds.

“I’ve seen this before.”

‘It started everything; your knowledge of this place.’

“Yes. When my soul was altered, I had a vision of an area like this. But I don’t understand; why was it so important?”

The voice was silent. Fiore felt uneasy, it seemed to have an answer for everything but the memory loss. He knew all the basics, his name, his hometown, his powers… nothing else. But as he looked at the scattered ruins below him, he imagined himself elsewhere, within memories of a dusty alleyway, littered with empty boxes and crates. He was at the end of his teens, looking down the street, tense, angry and betrayed. The wind blew through his short hair, sand grains moved across his face. He could smell the smoke in the distance as he looked forwards. He was staring at the shadowed man at the end of the alleyway; the one with the red, glowing eyes.

‘Snap out of it.’

“Hmm?” He blinked three times and was back in the real world.

‘What happened?’

“You didn’t see that?”

‘No. Tell me.’

“I had a memory; from my past. I’m not sure what it was, though.”

‘Explain.’

“I suppose it’s comforting to know you and I don’t share everything together.” Fiore’s attention redirected itself towards the large crystal, “Do you think this is what powers the building? Back in Carthage we used to use smaller crystals like this, but this is enormous.”

The voice was silent. It was either annoyed with him or unable to answer, either way it seemed useless in times when violence wasn’t required. He figured it was time to move on and although the voice seemed a lot calmer than it was whilst motivating him to kill the two men, he felt unconfident in keeping it. He wished to remove it; soon. He left the room; in front of him he saw a spiral staircase. He could only go down from here, and he knew he was fairly high up from looking out of the window earlier, so he figured he had a long descent ahead of him or a high probability in getting lost on many floors. As he walked towards them he looked at the walls either side of him. On his small walk earlier he disregarded them as patterns to make the walls more interesting, but here, where they were deeper, he could tell that they were unmistakably giant clawed scratches, as if some rabid, crazed animal had been dragged into this tower and given something to hunt. It worried him, who or what had made this marks and were they still here? They had obviously been made some time ago but it was disturbing nonetheless. The soft laughter of the voice certainly didn’t help his mood.

‘Do you remember? Isn’t it funny what different things speak out to us?’

He walked down the stairs, uninterested in what psychotic memories may have emerged into the voices memory. As time went on he was sure this voice was more than a problem within his mind. It was unnatural, it didn’t belong and strangely, it kept referring to itself as a separate entity, as did he himself. He was deeply confused about it; he certainly didn’t have this voice in his head before he became a prisoner, or at least he thought not. Down the stairs he went, gliding his fingers on the smooth, metal railing on the outside, what would be on this floor; more prisoners, crystals, the portal?

A few minutes later, when he reached the bottom of the staircase, he looked around at the large circular room he had appeared in. This metal prison which had held him for so long was nothing but repulsive. The ugly shine and unnatural glow of the objects around him made him ill when he compared it to that what was outside… the ruins; the ruins of a Phoenician city which reminded him of home. Apart from a few black, obsidian pillars keeping the ceiling up, the room was empty. The black, glasslike floor appeared to have tiny, round marks dotted around the place. Though he was now far too engrossed in where the sound of wind was coming from to hear the quiet but distinctive chattering of talon-like claws on the floor behind him. He could hear wind rushing through corridors; it suggested that he was not far from getting outside. He looked around and turned to the direction of the single corridor on the south west of this room. Proceeding at once to investigate where the wind was coming from, he made his way down the corridor. The wind was unnaturally strong to be a simple draught, allowed entrance into the tower through naught but a crack or a window and ahead he saw a strange source of dark blue glow. Something wasn’t right with this “wind”, he knew it, but he was intrigued and further followed the corridor to its source. He disregarded everything around him, the deep, red claw marks on the walls, the scratches on the floor and that of the sound behind him. It was as if he was in a trance, lured towards the light like a moth to the sun.

The closer he got to the light, the warmer it became. It was not intolerable, but he was beginning to sweat. This “wind” was certainly not that of the outside world and if it was, perhaps it would be better for him to remain inside anyway. Against the dark blue mist in front of him he saw shadows of beings rushing about from side to side, sometimes pausing whilst looking down the corridor, but then moving out of sight once again. Fiore stopped.

‘This could be dangerous. Remember that you were imprisoned here; anyone in this place now is here to keep you within this cage. You must show them you’re determined to escape.’

“You keep telling me to kill everything. I’m starting to think I’m better off not listening to you.”

‘Indeed, my precautions may not be up to your height of moral standards, but they are the most thorough and should you lack the time to react-’

Fiore let out a high-pitched scream. Ruptured by a long, thick spike of some sort, his back trickled blood onto the floor. Enraged, his eyes turned to green flame as he turned around to see what had struck him. Standing on its four hind legs out of eight, a blue and white scaled scorpion-like monster stood upright, ready to attack. Fiore noticed the thick red blood, his blood, dripping from one of its many claws; it appeared to be oddly metallic in texture. The monster, obviously impatient with Fiore’s inspection, threw another swipe aimed for his head. It, along with the rest of Fiore’s body, clothes and all within him turned to sand; the scorpion took a step back, confused. Within a second, Fiore returned to his normal, flesh and bones form. He smiled; as expected, his back wound had healed after his shape-shift. Though no longer wincing in pain, he had lost a lot of blood, which sparkled on the floor beneath him. He was weakened, but certainly able to fight. The monster’s mandibles dripped with silvery drool. It was hungry.

Fiore jumped towards the monster, shifting his skin in mid air into a dark, bark-like substance and his fists into long, sharp, thorny tendrils. He slashed at the monster, it dodged the attack, but he had succeeded in forcing it backwards down the corridor. It opened its mouth, showing its many rows of tiny, sharp teeth. The monster let out a loud roar; Fiore stepped backwards. Four iridescent wings erupted from the back of the monster. It took flight at Fiore at an immeasurable speed and swiped at Fiore, knocking him onto the floor but not piercing the skin. Snarling, the creature looked confused at its failure to kill and Fiore stood back up. Swiftly, Fiore lashed his now vine-like fingers and the creature, catching it off guard and ripping two of its wing off. Pale blue-silver blood spewed from the creature’s wounds as it howled in pain. Suddenly, the creature exploded into a mess of green fire, scales and insect guts.

“Don’t move. Don’t turn around. We will kill you. Revert to your normal form” A stern, dry voice echoed behind him. He had been too troubled by the scorpion to hear the footsteps of the people behind him come closer. Was he caught? He obeyed, shifting backwards into skin and flesh; his arms and fists now, once again, those of a human.

“Who is this that I have the pleasure to be meeting today?” Fiore spoke inquisitively.

“Place your arms behind your back and shut up.”

Fiore had just realised the absence of ‘kill them!’ comments; had the voice decided it was best to go along with these men? Did it think he couldn’t kill them? Was it a test? He was confused, but in this situation he couldn’t think of any other way out than combat. Maybe the voice was right after all.

He shifted to sand and spun around. He heard and saw half a dozen men in black suits fire what he understood to be guns, though larger than that of the explorer he saw earlier. The dark green bullets passed through his body as if he wasn’t there. He heard the shards of metal explode behind him, and the green fire changed the light behind him, gleaming in the eyes of fear worn on the faces in front of him. Fiore did not speak, but took a step forward. The men, pale as snow and probably now just as cold, ran backwards down the corridor towards what he expected was the portal. But, instead of pursuing and killing them, Fiore let them go.

“They seem to be unfamiliar with the abilities I possess. This might mean my escape is possible after all.” Fiore thought to himself and walked upwards through the corridor. His state of mind returning to that of what he assumed was his before his capture. Had the voice disappeared? Why? How?

The ground began to shake as he saw the figures move into the portal ahead of him. He could see it quite clearly now, circular in shape and it held a blue-purple mist within it; Elemental Energy. It was the pure form of all that is, he had learnt in school that few people in the world could manipulate the material, but doing so opened up endless possibilities. Unfortunately, Fiore was only able to control one of nine segments of Elemental Energy, and Nature glowed green, not this colour. What kind of energy was dominant in this area? His mind ached as he tried to remember, but told himself that the falling rocks and fragments of ceiling around him were a cue to leave. He had to shift back to normal form now. He was unable to keep in his sand form for long. Dodging the falling pieces of metal and glass he dashed towards another staircase and leapt down it, skipping three or four at a time. This much more convenient staircase connected more than two floors; he passed at least five before he reached the bottom. Maybe his captor did not think he’d be able to escape the monster above him, maybe he wouldn’t have, should those other humans not have arrived.

This bottom floor, large and pillared much like the one above him, shone in a strange blue hue; the same circular symbol he saw earlier was decorated on the floor in glass. The rest of the floor was covered by medium-sized square tiles. Hearing crashes above him, Fiore ran forward towards a large door, was this the one to lead him outside? He walked slowly until he could hold his hands out to grab the two cold, blue handles. He pulled on the anxiously and as he did so, he became lost in his thoughts once again. What happens when he gets out? This place, earth or not, he had no idea where he was. He knew no-one. What were the people like here? Were they like those he met earlier? Scared of his presence, unaware of his abilities? Shaking his head to regain focus, he grabbed the two handles and pulled on them.

The door would not budge. It was stick, locked. Fiore shouted in anger, his eyes ignited a green flame as did his hands and attacked the door with a furious wave of green energy.

“Stop…” An airy voice behind him spoke. Fiore turned around slowly. “This place was never intended to be a prison…”

Fiore said nothing, but he mouthed the word, ‘Rhaet’. His eyes widened as he began to take in exactly what was speaking. A pale green spectral being; a ghoul, a spirit was floating above where the circular symbol sat imbued into the ground. Phasing in and out of existence, Fiore could not understand all it was saying.

“This tower… fear, a pinnacle of elemental control, sat once …to horde elemental energy as a resource… When the first king reincarnated… angered by the abuse of… destroyed everything…”

Fiore, now more confused than ever, was becoming increasingly interested with this ‘first king’, “Who is this first king, spirit?”

“Now is not the time… escape is necessary but never anticipated… the Scorpix was killed but… within the carcass… the key! Before… of fear crumbles to naught but dust… hurry!”

Meanwhile, a number of floors above, floors crumbling and tiles cracking, two humans stood still looking around. One of them, albino, in a white military suit and black sunglasses, gestured to the puddles of blood close to the Scorpix.

“One is blue; the other is red. Collect samples.”

“Yes sir!” The other male, in a black outfit, walked swiftly towards the puddles and collected two test tubes of blood by using two pipettes, “Sir! There’s a key in the carcass of this creature.”

“We don’t have time to collect relics. This place is falling to pieces. Besides, it might be contaminated with an alien virus. Get through the portal, now.”

“Yes sir!”

Fiore ran up the staircase, skipping as many as he could to get up faster. Some stairs no longer existed; some fell before his eyes onto the floors below him. He reached the top after a few minutes, somewhat out of breath, he saw two men walk back into the portal which strangely didn’t seem to be affected by the falling tower. He saw the dead Scorpix, found the key and picked it up. The floor beneath him began to crack, he ran towards the staircase but the floor collapsed beneath him before he reached it. He fell down, landed on his back, heard a loud cracking noise he assumed was his spine and cried in agony. Once again, he shifted to stand and after a few seconds, stood up, allowing time for his bones to heal he looked around the room. The room was large and rectangular. There were no windows, there were no doors. There was no visible stair case, which was odd considering he could have sworn he saw a door leading there. The floor had nothing on it apart from a fairly large, royal looking rug, patterned with strange symbols and markings he did not recognise. There was but one object in this room, a small monument, right at the end of the room. It depicted a scrawny looking, short haired man, draped in robes and holding his arms up to hold a small shard of white crystal.

As pieces of the ceiling fell around him, Fiore grabbed the crystal and felt a nauseating surge of power fill him. Choking a little, he dropped the crystal and it shattered on the floor. As the sharp fragments scattered on the rumbling tiles, they disintegrated into dust and wisped away as dust. The tower stood still, silent. It was unnatural for a falling building. However, the silence was not around for long; Fiore heard the tower groan above him, and then a deafening crash as a floor disappeared under one of the higher ones. Dust and pieces of metal came from above and scattered on the floor around him. The rumbling was now more violent than ever as larger pieces of the ceiling began to fall around him. But what was he supposed to do? There were no exits in this room. Was this it? Would he die after such a short time of freedom? No! He wouldn’t allow it. Fiore shifted to the bark-form he had used earlier to fight the Scorpix, and attacked the walls. Three of them stood and took the blow and remained perfectly still. The fourth one, however, obviously weakened, gave in and Fiore found himself standing in front of the staircase he had been looking for earlier.

“Someone’s determined to keep me here… or kill me”, Fiore thought.

Running down the stairs, Fiore found himself in the same room he had met the spectral being earlier. It had departed now, but a small orb of green glass remained in the centre of the emblem on the ground. Fiore picked it up and ran to the door. Used his key and opened it. There were no distractions this time. No voices or monsters behind him. He checked just to make sure. He opened the door, and what he saw made his stomach fall to the ground.

He looked at the rich, blue sky and the clouds. There were various birds flying and squawking at the tower which was falling to the ground, white, marble ruins of an ancient city. Instinctively, Fiore ran straight out into the open fields and looked back as the large, conical tower above him crashed and groaned, floors disappearing as others took their place. After a while, dust erupted from the ground as the tower crumbled into nothingness.

Fiore turned his back to the tower. Hearing the dust settle and groans of the remaining tower’s walls push against each other he moved forwards. Where next?

“You will do as I say. Turn around Fiore.” Shocked, Fiore looked behind him. He had heard the voice through his ears but had not let a single word escape his mouth.

“My name is Rhaet. You may or may not remember who I am. But I am one of the group who set out to put you in the prison you see fallen ahead of you, namely, the Tower of Fear. I am one of the group who taught you how to manipulate elemental energy. I am currently the only one of the group either willing to help you, or able to. I am not alive, but I am able to reincarnate in my spectral form to guide you to what you seek. Now, tell me, Fiore, what is it that you seek?”