106 - Man in the Mirror

It was too late - Magnus' voice carried out over the ruins of Kloster and up into the skies and after a moment . . .

Whoosh!

A sudden wind kicked up plumes of dirt and sent debris flying high into the skies - a single silver cloud tore back through the night skies, sitting at its front Magnus could very clearly make out the silver suited man upon it. His eyes blazed, a golden glint furiously scanning back and forth over the ruins.

He flew around the whole area three more times, then landed on a flat patch of ground close to Magnus. He was so close . . so close Magnus could make out the lines on his face, could see the folds in his silver suit . .

Magnus stared at him with curiosity - no matter how he looked the silver suited man appeared to be a normal human. There was no special aura - no sign of any sort of Logos or energy gathered around him, the strangest thing was the silver lined cloud. The cloud that the man rode in on gathered above his head into a strange fluffy ball, floating in place.

"I heard it . . I heard you. ." The silver suited man muttered to himself. "I felt it and now I heard it . . he has to be around here somewhere . ."

A normal human, right? No . . there was something more to him . . something Magnus couldn't quite place - not quite an aura . . more a scent - the scent of something familiar - the taste of rusted metal in the air.

One of the twelve . . one of the twelve who defeated the Celestials, who made the Alchemists . . one of the twelve responsible . . the ones who did this! Who destroyed Kloster!

A black fury took ahold of Magnus' heart as he held the silver suited man in his gaze - a deep urge to crush him, to devour him whole . .

Anger . . resentment . . all the bubbling heartfelt emotions that had been building inside now rose up - like black bile, a foul acid filling Magnus.

Magnus knew that, logically, the man before him did not destroy Kloster, did not kill all his friends and family, did not kidnap Rolf and take him away for evil experiments - he knew that, but he could not help the bitterness and hatred that took a root in his heart.

Logic, reason - these things mattered not a bit - all Magnus saw was the silver suited man and his silver bloody cloud, his stupid face, his stupid golden eyes - Magnus saw and Magnus hated them all to his very core - wanted nothing more than to crush and smash that silver suit to a silver paste.

The gold-white core at the pit of his navel rotated, responding to his emotions, and emitting a powerful force. With a single breath Magnus spread the power around his body, felt all the strands of the Logos connect up - felt the presence of the giant within him, his Celestial form - all within a single breath - Magnus tensed, ready to leap out - but -

Nothing.

As if he'd been doused with a bucked of ice cold water - not a single strand of energy still coursed through his veins, everything evaporating. A sudden void - his arms, legs - every part of his own body was out of his control - even the breath in his chest caught in place.

Stay still! Magnus, for all that is holy, don't even think about moving!

Hob? Hob you bastard - you're holding me in place? You're controlling my body? Why'd you stop me? I could have taken him! I could have crushed him into dust before he knew what was happening! He's the enemy, right? One of the bastards who is keeping all the Celestials locked up, right?

It is for your own good Magnus, believe me! Your own good! You can't act against the seven divines! Not now . . not yet . . just be a good lad and stay still, stay, stay . . . .

Magnus opened his mouth - no words formed, his tongue limp against the base of his mouth, the back of his throat numb.

Hob? Hob? I can't move . . Hob? You bastard! You, you, you, what have you done to me? Hob! HOB!

Hob's voice faded from Magnus' mind leaving him locked in place and utterly helpless - able only to call out in his mind again and again to nothing, to no one.

A hundred feet away he could see the silver suited man moving around and muttering to himself, looking over the rubble with intense golden eyes - unable to see Magnus at all.

Hob?

No response . . .

Magnus struggled within the woods-for-trees formation - it felt as if he'd been tied to the spot by heavy iron chains - every inch of him bound and unable to move so much an inch.

The silver man finally stopped looking about - now he stood stock still, one arm raised and the other pointed down.

"Come . . come . . . COME!" With a single word repeated three times the heavens moved - the silver clouds poured down onto his finger, wrapping around the man and across his chest, flowing off his other arm and straight down, following the direction of the finger.

The silver clouds flowed from finger to finger, from the skies to the ground along the man's two fingers. When they struck the earth the burst - silver clouds spreading out at ground level in every direction, instantly forming a thin layer of silver mist covering the surface of the land for miles and miles, the silver suited man at its epicenter.

Magnus felt a shiver run down his spine - where the silver mist touched his formation he felt it shake, instantly losing its outer most layer and a great deal of efficacy - the green stones making the formation each vibrated fiercely cracked in several places - but the formation held.

"Celestial! You are too careless! Are you in that much of a hurry to join the other Celestials in the Stellar prison formation? Hah! Careless - and a coward, you won’t even dare to come out and face me, one man! I’m right here! Come! Celestial, I am here - just one human! Just one man! Are you not a god? Pah!”

His taunts met only with silence. Borges muttered something beneath his breath, suddenly shouting “Who is it? The King of the Woods? The Lady of the Sunless Seas? Who? You cannot go against the Lord of Embers with just this, Celestial!" The man stamped his foot and several spires of silver cloud rose from the earth, the silver line cloud returning to the skies above his head. "You hear me? What has come to pass . . will come again! My name is Borges! Show yourself!"

Silence.

"Humph!"

Borges leapt up, a tendril of flowing silver cloud came down to meet him and pulled him up into the skies. Together, he and the cloud rushed through the air to the south and quickly vanished over the horizon.

The night wore on - the moon moved through the skies - a light wind rustled the blades of grass between the rubbles of Kloster. For a time nothing seemed to move in the world.

Magnus remained frozen in place, his face twisted into an ugly grimace - unable to barely so much as draw breath. All around there was still the scent of rusted metal - what did it remind him off? The more he thought of the smell the more he pictured that place . . a sudden realization struck Magnus - the thing he was reminded of was the strange place he’d seen back in the Ether, the robed man and the giant tree . . . the thick syrupy stench of the pools of blood resting stagnant between the roots of the giant tree . . that place within the forest . .

Hob?

Hob? You there?

Hello?

Nothing.

Not a thing.

Then . . .

More nothing.

For a whole hour - nothing. Just the sounds of the night . .

As the night darkened and his eyes became more attuned - with little else for Magnus to do he focused on the things he could see, seeing how even the smallest of things moved on the web of silver droplets, catching every sign of movement - every tiny insignificant insect, every scrap of wind or falling stone sent those shimmers flickering out.

All around - Magnus noticed - everywhere the silver mist had touched it had left behind a slight residue, and now, slowly, the little silver drops spread out, formed a vast and intricate web. Any movement - even the rustle of the blades of grass and the lightest of breezes - made the silver web tremble.

Whoosh!

A third time - the silver cloud came tumbling through the skies, at its head the silver suited Borges - his face ashen, his lips drawn tight into a despondent frown.

Bam!

Borges leapt from the silver cloud and landed heavily amidst the rubble.

"Celestial! Coward! Is this how you intend to act before the Lord of Embers, by hiding? Oh, what a noble race of godly beasts - cowards!"

Borges stamped his foot and the silver droplets shot out of the earth, returning to the cloud above.

"Coward!"

With a last indignant word Borges took his silver cloud and headed south - this time the stench of rusted metal went with him, as did every trace of the silver cloud.

"Coward . . coward . . coward . ."

The words echoed through the plains, echoed through Magnus head - Magnus trembled, straining with all his might against his own body, trying to do all he could to free himself - to no avail.

Coward? How dare you! I'll kill you! I'll tear you to pieces! Come back here! Come back, you bastard! I'll rip that silver suit from your skin! I'll . . . I'll . . .

Hob! Where are you Hob! You bastard! Come back! Let me go! Hob!