The Reign of the Darak Lord

Chapter 1
The Balance Keeper

Darkness crept about the land, sweeping across everything, consuming it all. The trees lost all form, the animals were no longer visible, and the shape of the hills and valleys became lost. Cries broke the silence of the night, sharp calls of pain and surprise as the hunters of the darkness prowled the wooded lands, and circled the watery lakes, trying, and succeeding, with their catch. Pinpricks glowed in the darkness fleetingly, appearing then vanishing, momentarily giving away the location of a night creature, which was trying vainly to hide. Amidst all that was occurring, an evil prowled. It slunk through the darkest shadows, crept along the deepest ditch, and stalked through the tallest grass, hiding from watching eyes, for they were there.
A wolf prowled close to the den in which the evil was hiding, sniffing, listening, and sensing the presence of the stranger. It knew something was out of place, for the den was its home. Slowly, stealthily, it crept towards the den. Every footfall thudded mutely on the floor, making a barely distinguishable noise, but there still. It is that which gave it away. The evil creature leapt from the den in a whir of darkness. Black light, darker than the night surrounding it, became highly evident as it leapt from the forelimbs of the creature. The black light struck the wolf, and it howled in a long, wallowing sound that chilled the blood, before it was suddenly silenced.
The darkness receded back into the den, along with the blacklight. Silence permeated the air, unusual for this time of night, and the creatures, which usually made those noises, were wary. Within the den, the creature that wields black light rested, but was constantly alert, conscious of the fact that danger may come any moment, just like it had with the wolf.

Dawn came, and a faint gold light crept across the land. It shone brightly in the face of the night creatures, and illuminated anything that did not belong. The nocturnal beasts fled from the suns evil glare, and sheltered in the closest caves or hollows. It was this that caused the strange occurrence.
At the entrance to a den, the same den at which a set of wolf prints simply vanished, a mother and her cubs returned from their hunting. The mother sensed the presence of the male of the pack, but knew it to be old. Then the other presence became evident, and she was suddenly aware of a threat lurking within the den. The wolf prepared for a fight as she heard a shuffling come from within the den, and was suddenly surprised. A wolf came out. It was the male wolf of the pack she had sensed to be here. Yet he was different. The eyes gave it away.
They were black. Not just a night black, but depthless, seeming to hold the secrets of the world. The female wolf stepped back, and this hesitation seemed to be a sign. The wolf with the black eyes suddenly howled. And this howl was like a summons. Strings of black light erupted from the earth beneath the wolf and her cubs, and they formed a cage about them. This cage turned solid, and enveloped them completely. It began to compress, closing inwards, and a faint howling sound came from within. Then the black orb vanished, and no trace of the wolves remained.

That night, the world lay in darkness, the trees whispering softly to themselves. The wind whistling briefly into the silence, before moving on to a more welcoming place. The animals of this cold and desolate place were in hiding out of fear of all of the creatures, which dwelled near them. No moon shone and no stars watched, no clouds flitted through the black sky and no end seemed to draw any nearer for this night. It was a night perfect for irksome things to occur.
The land was covered in trees and grass, rivers and lakes, snow and ice. Buildings dotted the land, like sleeping mice in a field of grain. No movement disturbed the peace and serenity of this cold night. A tall construct stood erect from out of the night, and it was almost black except for two small pinpricks of light, which shone from near the centre. They flickered and blinked occasionally, giving the construct the appearance of a cat, sitting in wait, ready to pounce on the unsuspecting mice that lay before it. This tall construct was Camelot.
King Arthur sat at one of these windows, a torch lit behind him, illuminating the room that lay behind him. It consisted of a large four-poster and writing desk. Curtains hung from the rails at the top of the four posters, closed at the moment, disclosing the woman who lay on its soft covers. Wall hangings covered the walls, veiling the secret doors that led from his room. An open fire sat against the left wall and it was blazing at the moment, in an attempt to keep out the cold. All these things were unnoticed by the King, whose mind was far away. His grey hair fell about his aged face like a curtain and his trimmed beard masked half of his face. His blue eyes shone from beneath the bushy grey eyebrows, like beacons in darkness.
Arthur was more concerned with his day to be worried about this night. His mind kept running over the things that had occurred and caused him to do the things he had done. It was their own fault, he told himself over and over, in an act to convince himself that their lives hadn’t been lost for his own purposes. No matter how hard he tried and how often he told himself that, King Arthur could still feel the guilt pressing down on him. He sighed deeply and shook his head.
“Don’t stress yourself,” a gentle voice cooed from behind him. Arthur jumped and spun around quickly. A shadow leant against the wall next to the bracket, which held the lit torch. The face was lost deep within a cowl and his hands were hidden deep within the folds of the black cloak. Arthur knew who it was however.
“Merlin, what are you doing here?” Arthur breathed softly. His heart slowed steadily and rose from the soft seat. Merlin never moved, but continued to watch from the wall.
“I have come to see how you are taking the deaths,” Merlin replied after a slight pause. “It seems you were deep in thought for you neglected to lock the secret passages that many know of. What is it that troubles you?”
The question had the intent of consoling someone, but when spoken by Merlin it gave the impression of being a mere passing comment. Arthur gave Merlin a stern look. He knew already what Arthur had been thinking about, it was one of Merlins many talents. A gentle chuckle came from the shadow beside the torch and the hood fell back, revealing the face and man beneath it.
Arthur felt his stomach turn cold. The man was not Merlin, his trusted advisor. It was a man with waxy skin and black eyes. No hair was in evidence and his mouth was simply a slit beneath a crooked nose. Arthur stepped back and seated himself once more. He tried to call out to his guards, knowing Excalibur to be too far from him. No noise came from his throat and he was forced to sit and look at this stranger.
“You do not know me, old man,” the stranger said to him in a voice very different to that which he had used earlier. It was not like Merlins any more, but was full of anger, spite and even a bit of joy. The voice was cold and emotionless. “I know you well though. I have come for Merlin and all who help him in his task of freeing the magic in this world. You are in the process of helping this being accomplished, so you must come with me.”
“I will not go anywhere with you,” Arthur spat to the stranger, feeling stubbornness rise in him.
“Is that so,” the stranger replied, smirking. He stepped from the light and his cloak seemed to spread through the room, enveloping everything in darkness. Arthur felt his sight go and he struggled against what was happening. He felt nothing happening to him, but could hear a small gasp of shock come from before him. It was that of a girl. The darkness suddenly lifted and Arthur could see once more. The stranger was back at the wall again, and in his arms a woman struggled, her body shining in the torch light. “I am a cruel man, but I try not to use that on others. However, should you anger me, I will be forced to use that cruelty on you lovely wife.”
Arthur felt his heart skip a beat. Fear rose in his chest and he knew that he must not allow for her to be harmed. “Who are you and where is it that you wish to take me,” Arthur asked, trying to stall time.
“I am the Balance Keeper and have come from a place you will have never heard of before,” the stranger replied. The Queen struggled in his arms, but he simply tightened his grip. “This place is where I must take you. Once there, you will get to find out more. Now, will you come with me?”
Arthur sat there, appearing to be in deep thought about the question which was posed to him, even though he already knew the answer. He would never go. He was now trying to decide how else to stall for time. Ideas came and went, but none were witty enough. He was almost out of ideas when an interruption came.
The fireplace turned around on the spot and out stepped a tall man draped in a grey cloak. His young face was set in a look of outrage and he hands were flexing at his sides. Arthur felt a smile creep over his face as he recognised Merlin. The Balance Keeper spun on the spot and the Queen seemed to be stolen into the folds of the cloak. Merlin stood there glared at the balance keeper, anger marked all over his face.
“You have come at last,” the Balance Keeper crowed to him, an evil grin creeping over his face. “You know what I have come for and so must come.”
“I know why you have come, yes,” Merlin replied in a gentle voice. He sounded older than he looked. “But you will not accomplish your task. Arthur, the Lady of the Lake and I shall not come with you. You may take any others who pose a threat against what you try to stop, but the others you must leave. Be off.”
The Balance Keeper simply sneered at him before he took another step forwards. There was no sign of where the Queen had been cast, but Arthur knew her to be near. The Balance Keeper raised his arms into the air and two threads of black light shot from the palms of each hand. These threads of black wrapped themselves about Merlin and he fought against them. Red sparks erupted from his hands and they shot at the black light, but the fire simply passed straight through the threads and hit the floor and walls, catching alight on the drapes.
The Balance Keeper stepped forwards again, and as he did so, one of the threads of black broke away from those that were entwining Merlin and they made their way towards Arthur. He leapt to his feet and scurried to the door, but he was too slow. The black light had come to him and wrapped around him, closing off any escape. It felt cold to his skin and his breathing slowed. His mind grew dizzy and the room spun. It was then that he saw his wife. She stood before him, smiling wickedly. She had two long threads of black light protruding from her palms and she had black eyes. Arthur knew it all then. His wife had already been killed, long ago, and the Balance Keeper had simply been holding an image. The Balance Keeper had been posing as his wife for a long time, in order to find everything he could about Merlin and Arthur. Now they were to be trapped forever.
Darkness enveloped Arthur once more, and coldness swept through him. Nothing could be seen, smelt, touched, heard of tasted.

The waters glimmered benignly in the morning sun. The green from the trees seemed to be unnatural. The fisherman watched as the red sun rose above the trees, giving them a heavenly look. The fisherman decided that they needed that after the night they had just endured. It had been very odd. It had started warm and bright, the moon and stars shining brightly. Then the night’s eyes disappeared and the moon vanished, the wind howled across the land and the lake like the call of a wounded animal. It had been short lived of course, the wind dying down to nothing. The silence took its place, making the night a time for none to be out during.
But now the night had ended, and the sun was beginning to rise. The fisherman was pleased about this, for the cold of the night had kept the fish at bay. Now they were to be seen splashing around in the water, allowing the morning sun to wash over their scales.
He felt the fishing rod give an almighty tug and knew that he had caught a big fish.
“Come here fish,” the Old Fisherman called loudly into the quiet morning, a look of immense pleasure crossing his aged face. “I am wanting you I is. Come on, come to me and let me feast off of the meat on your bones. I know I has you I do.”
He went on like this for a bit longer before the line snapped and he fell backwards out of the boat.
The Old man screamed loudly as he felt himself stumbling backwards and called out in desperation, “Lady of the Lake, help me.”
He tripped over the side of the boat and tumbled over the side. He prepared to hear the splash of the water and feel the coldness take him and pull him towards the bottom. But it never came. He opened his eyes, which he had closed tight when he tripped, and saw that a tall lady stood before him. She was floating above the surface of the water, but her hair seemed to float as if she were deep beneath the surface of the lake. Her dress mimicked her hair and shone like the brightest star. Her face glowed in the morning sun and beauty emanated from her. The Old Man stuttered as he felt himself floating in the air with her. His eyes were glued to hers, which read of sadness and glee in the same.
It was because the Old Man was so preoccupied that he failed to see the tall black shadow walk across the lake and come up to them. The Lady of the Lake turned to meet this shadow and as she did so, two threads of black light shot from within it. The Old man had a brief glimpse of the Lady of the Lake as she fought against the shadow and its threads, which had now begun to wrap about her and trap her, before he fell into the water and felt deaths grip taking hold of him. He could still see the glow of the Lady of the Lake and the blackness of the shadow. But as the shadow wrapped about the Lady of the Lake, so too did death wrap about the Old Man. When he finally passed on from lack of oxygen, the Lady of the Lake simply vanished and the shadow dissipated.

Chapter 2
Dr Schroeder

The sun blazed in the sky, high above the rooves of the many houses that sprawled across south Perth. The smattering of clouds that were scattered across the sky gave inconspicuous impressions of real and imaginary things, triggering the imagination and memory of those who took the time to observe them. Birds flew across the sky, though not many. The beach was just visible, shimmering light blue in the searing heat of the sun on this afternoon. The city seemed dead, void of life. Edward was curious.
He sat at his desk, in his upstairs room, trying to keep up with his chemistry homework. It was getting increasingly difficult. He had fallen behind a few chapters, and was taking advantage of the empty house to catch up. However, this tactic was failing. The silence was causing his mind to wander, and he found himself thinking about how easy life would be if there were no such things as school.
Edward snapped out of his reverie and tried to refocus his mind to the task at hand. It wasn’t working.
Suddenly, a noise came from downstairs.
Edward got up to investigate, and found it to simply be their pet cat, trying to get into the rubbish bin again. Edward stepped forward to pull the cat away when he remembered something. Their cat was dead.
He blinked, and the cat vanished. Edward shook his head in confusion, and made his way to the living room, thinking to watch a movie before he got stuck into more homework. Their exams were coming closer, and Edward hadn’t even begun to study yet.
He sat down on the soft couches, and felt himself sinking into them. He reached for the remote for the television, when he suddenly found himself confined to the chair. He could not escape. His arms were lost within the soft folds of the sofa, yet they were firmly holding onto them. He tried to pull himself out, but the sofa kept pulling back. He struggled and felt his strength drain. Suddenly, the sofa ceased its fight, and Edward was flung forwards across the room.
He got up, slightly confused, and quickly made his way to his bedroom. He reached the stairs, and found them leaking. A black substance, almost like a wisp in appearance, was seeping through the joins of the floorboards. Edward placed his foot upon the first step, and knew it to be a mistake.
It lurched sideways as his body weight was put upon it. The wall came rushing forwards to meet Edward’s face, when the step suddenly righted itself, and the wall seemed to help Edward, saving him from making fatal contact. He stumbled backwards a bit, and finally steadied himself. Edward grew highly confused, and so raced out the back, towards the pergola. He wished for nothing more to than just sit and think at the moment.
The back door swung open before him, without Edward doing anything to provoke it, and Edward slunk through it, being wary of how it had opened. The door swung shut, and clicked as the lock was turned. Edward spun on his heel, and glanced at the now barred doorway. What the heck was going on? Edward thought wildly. He raced toward the pergola, and he seated himself.
He was accompanied not two seconds later by a man, hooded and cloaked in black. He said nothing, did nothing, but sat there. Edward felt himself becoming a bit uneasy, when the man turned to him, and a face met him. It was not a man, but his mother.
She was smiling, her white teeth showing clearly against her tanned face. Her auburn hair fell about her face and her blue eyes glinted sweetly against the suns glare.
“Wake up Edward,” she called to him, her voice sounding distant.

Edward Bowers hazel eyes snapped open, and the early morning sun, which shone duly through the windows, seared them. He squinted and looked up, barely seeing the outline of his mothers face. She smiled even broader and said something else.
“It’s morning,” she said gently, yet insistently. “I’ve got pancakes.”
Edward suddenly felt as if he had been awake for an hour. He leapt out of bed after his mother had left and got dressed. He raced down stairs, and seated himself at the breakfast table. Already there was his sister, Amber, and father. His mother was behind the kitchen bench, cooking something. The unmistakable smell of pancakes reached their nose. The three sighed a sigh of relief, as if the Holy Grail had been found at last.
“Love pancakes,” commented Mr Bower cooed gently, his eyes closed and face holding an expression of deepest salvation. Edward seated himself, and Mr Bowers snapped too once more. “Morning sleepy head.”
“Morning dad,” Edward replied, stifling a yawn. All of the energy he had felt moments earlier had suddenly been drained away.
“Sleep well?” the other asked. He seized the coffee mug before him, and took a hearty swig.
“Alright I suppose,” Edward replied. He too grabbed the coffee mug, which sat before him, and also took a hearty swig. Energy seemed to rush through his body. “I’ve had better. How about you?”
“Same as usual,” Mr Bower said, and raising his voice ever so slightly, added. “But I was a bit cold throughout the night.”
“Oh, stop your grumbling over there,” Mrs Bower called from the kitchen. Edward suddenly grew curious.
“What do you mean dad,” Edward asked.
“I’m not supposed to be saying anything about it, so I’ll leave it to your mother to explain when she feels it necessary,” Mr Bower said softly, so only Edward could hear. Edward found this information very unusual, and curiosity was bursting through his mind.
“Mum, what are you on about,” Edward called to the kitchen. A soft tinkling noise came from the kitchen, and Mrs Bower’s face appeared from behind the pantry door, and she smiled benignly.
“Never you mind,” she said, and disappeared behind the pantry door.
Edward soothed his curiosity, and returned to his coffee. The pancakes were ready within the next ten minutes, and the family were seated around the round table, enjoying the special treat. Then it occurred to Edward, what was the special occasion.
No sooner had this thought crossed his mind, than his mother squealed like an excited schoolgirl and grabbed his father’s hand, pulling it toward her stomach. He smiled as his hand was placed upon it.
“What is wrong with you two?” Edward and Amber chimed in unison.
Mrs Bower shrugged and glanced at her husband. He smiled and nodded. She nodded also and then they both turned to face their curious children.
“Well,” Mrs Bower said happily, a grin crossing her face. “Your father and I have been trying to find the right time to tell you both, and it seems that now is as good a time as any.” She paused for a minute or so, then heaved a sigh of joy. “I’m pregnant.”
Edward felt something odd well up within him, and he wasn’t sure what it was. Pleasure, joy, anger, jealousy, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he didn’t like the feeling at all. However, it was almost pleasurable, like greeting an old friend with whom he hadn’t spoken for a while.
He was sitting there, staring at his parents with an unreadable look on his face, when suddenly the power cut out, followed very shortly by a loud and vibrating thud. Everyone looked about themselves, and at the lights. Everything was dark, with the curtains not yet being drawn. Mr Bower got up and began to open up the curtains, when he saw that the power pole out-front of their house had fallen, a clean cut at its base, almost six feet off the floor.
Edward stared at the power pole, and strangely felt little curiosity. That odd feeling was still within him, and gave no inclination of leaving. He got up, and walked to the window, to get a closer look at the power pole, when suddenly, the chair that Amber was sitting on collapsed beneath her. The legs had been cut cleanly, about a foot off the floor. The family began to wonder what was happening, when suddenly, the odd feeling within Edward vanished, as quickly as it had come, and was replaced by happiness.
“Congratulations mum,” Edward said, a few minutes off the mark. She stared at him wordlessly as he hugged her and kissed her cheek lightly.
“What is happening mum,” Amber cried softly, looking frightened.
“I don’t know sweetie,” she cooed back to her daughter. She meanwhile gave her husband a meaningful stare. He knew what that stare meant.
“I’ll notify the electricity company,” Mr Bower said, picking up the mobile phone, which sat at the end of the bench. He walked into the lounge room, and closed the door behind him.
“Edward, could you do something about that chair,” Mrs Bower asked, while she began to clear up the dirty dishes at the sink. The pancakes sat forgotten on the breakfast table. Edward picked up the pieces of the chair, and carted them to the shed. The sky was clear and bright, but the biting winter chill was beginning to hang in the air, penetrating through Edwards clothing like a knife through butter. He shivered and went back inside.
“They said they’d fix it as soon as they fix one over in East Fremantle,” Mr Bower said as he seated himself at the breakfast table. “And I’ve scheduled the doctor for ten thirty.”
“Oh good, I don’t want there to be anything wrong,” Mrs Bower said, unawares of Edward’s arrival.
“There wouldn’t be anything wrong with the baby would there mum?” Edward asked curiously.
She nearly jumped a foot in the air, and spun about to see her son staring at her curiously. “No, I’m just supposed to get a check up every few weeks,” she said, recovering slightly. Her voice, however, gave away the hesitancy in the lie she just told. Edward looked at her oddly, before he seated himself and began to eat his pancakes again.
“I would like it if you could come with us Edward,” Mr Bower said, as he poured some more maple syrup onto his five pancakes. His tone was slightly slower than usual, and Edward got the impression that his father was choosing his words carefully. “So you can see the ultra sound of the baby.”
“That’d be great,” Edward said in a falsely happy voice, while his mind mulled over what his parents where hiding from him. “What time would we be leaving?”
“About ten, in case of traffic.”
“Ok.”
Edward finished his pancakes in silence, and washed his plate in silence also. He then retreated to his room, and pondered things in the silence that followed.
What just happened? He thought at first. What was that feeling I possessed. Was it something I had felt before? was it like an old friend returned? What are my parents hiding from me? Was the second thought that paraded in front of him. Why do they want me to go to the hospital, why not Amber, who would like that sort of thing better. Also, what happened with the power pole and chair? Both of which had been cut cleanly. Many more thoughts crossed Edwards mind, and before he knew it, his father came banging on his door, and informed him that they were about to go.
Edward leapt up and put on something warmer. He raced downstairs, and sat in the back seat of the car. His parents were already waiting, and Amber sat beside him. They left, and took off down the road.
It took them a good half hour to get to the hospital, mainly due to the traffic.
They got to the hospital at exactly ten thirty, and they sped inside, getting to the waiting room just as the receptionist called “Bower, your up,” and stared around the room expectantly. The family raced forward and went to the third floor, where ultra sounds were held. However, Mr Bower waited outside, and held Edward back also. Amber and Mrs Bower went inside, and the check up was in process.
Mr Bower steered Edward to the stairs once more, and they went up two more levels. The fifth level door had a sign posted out front of it. It read “Psychiatrist, Occupational Therapists, Mental Health Sector.”
“What are we doing here dad?” Edward asked in a mild tone.
“Well, I booked two different slots. One for your mother, the other for you.”
Edward stopped walking, and looked back at the door. It wasn’t that far away to make a run for it.
“Come on Edward,” Mr Bower said, in an almost tired voice. “We must get there. It’ll be for your benefit.”
Edward hesitated for a few moments longer, and only moved when he felt his father’s hand on his shoulder. He felt himself being steered towards the door third up the hallway, and could do nothing to resist.
They entered the room. It was a neutral maroon, with deep blue carpet on the floor. The window overlooked the sprawling city of Perth, and it snaked away like a jungle of reptiles.  Edward stood in the doorway, and took in the furniture, with its dark red leather, and jarrah stained wooden things. Forms with highly important signatures hung on walls in frames, looking very important. Edward felt his father push him into the room, where they both seated themselves at the table. They waited.
Two minutes later, but it felt like hours, the door opened and in walked a tall, thin man with a goatee. He wore thick glasses, which made his small eyes seem the right size. His wispy grey hair was slicked back on his head and the creases of his face seemed to be twice as definable, due to the dim light in the room. The man sat himself on the other side of the desk, and gazed at the two who sat before him.
“I suppose that Welcome back is not a correct term to use here, for it most certainly is not a good thing,” the therapist said, in a weak yet brisk voice.
“I suppose you would be right by saying that Dr Schroeder,” Mr Bower said with a slightly forced smile. Dr Schroeder did not smile at all.
“You have grown up a bit I see,” Dr Schroeder said to Edward. “What did he do this time?”
This time? Edward thought.
“The power pole out front of our house fell,” Mr Bower said in an explanatory voice. “It was a clean cut, not even the marking made by a chainsaw. Then Ambers chair legs cut beneath her. It was like it was thirteen years ago.”
“I remember the incident that occurred thirteen year ago very well,” Dr Schroeder said. He held his hands before him, with his fingers interlocked and rested his forehead upon them. “The water main out front of the hospital burst. It was a tragic day. Five people were killed. However, the cause was not found. We know however, who caused this. Edward was, and apparently still is, unique. He could do things without meaning to or knowing he did it. Edward, can I ask you something? What did you feel when the power pole collapsed out the front of your house?”
Edward felt stunned. It was as if the Doctor knew. “I’m not sure what it was,” Edward began. “It felt like nothing I had ever felt before. However, it was like an old friends return after a long separation.”
“Ahh, for that it was,” Dr Schroeder commented. “You have the ability to cause damage to things. Of course, all people have this ability, but you can do it without doing anything. The burst water main was your fault thirteen years ago. Although you were only three, you were so angry that you burst the object close to you that held a large amount of pressure. Now you have been faced with an emotion that you have not felt for years. You caused things to happen about you.”
“What are you on about,” Edward asked.
“I mean, that you can do, as some have referred to it as, magic,” Dr Schroeder stated. Edward felt his stomach drop. Come off it! He thought. “I don’t believe in magic for I am a man of science. So I see it as you have the ability to change things about you, by rearranging the elements in these objects. How it is done, I do not know, but I am certain that I will be able to figure something out. Please, lay on this couch for me.”
Edward got up and lay on his back on the long maroon chair. Dr Schroeder then spoke once more. “Mr Bower, if you could please leave us for the time being. I shall call you back in again when you are needed.”
Mr Bower stood and left without saying a word. The door closed softly behind him and silence fell. Edward could hear his heart beat in his chest. Lubb dubb, lubb dubb. Dr Schroeder came and seated himself by Edward’s head, but just out of sight.
“What happened prior to you having these feelings?” he asked.
“Well, my parents told me that they were going to have a baby,” Edward informed him. The scratching of pen on paper reached his ears.
“Mhm, and then what happened?”
“Well, that weird feeling came over me and I just sat there, trying to figure out what it was. Then the power went out and the power pole hit the ground. Then, as I got up to investigate the power pole, the chair that Amber was sitting on collapsed.”
“I see,” Dr Schroeder commented. More pen on paper noises. “And then?”
“And then it all stopped,” Edward said. “I felt the odd feeling leave me and I felt normal again.”
Silence. The pen on paper noises had stopped. Edward sat and listened. He could not even hear the gentle breathing that should be coming from the doctor. He turned in his seat, and found that the chair that should have been occupied by Dr Schroeder was now empty. Over in a corner, a shimmer occurred. Edward snapped his head up, just in time to see the man walk from the shadows, almost like he was a part of them.
Edward leapt off the chair, and stared at the man. He was hooded and cloaked in black, his face not visible.
“You must come with me,” the man said, in a voice as dark and cold as his demeanour. “No questions.”
“No.”
“You have no choice,” the man said. Two threads of black light suddenly leapt from within the folds of the cloak, and they shot towards Edward. He gasped as the coldness of the black light enclosed about each wrist. The length flickered like fire, yet was black in colour. Edward though it a bit odd, for black is the absence of light. The trails of black about his wrists spread up his arms, enclosing him completely. Before he knew it, the room about him was black, and no noise could be uttered. The blackness was like a death shroud, and Edward began to panic.
What the hell is happening?

Chapter 3
Garlanding

The world slid past him, like a crowd at the zoo, none stopping to see the already viewed animal. Edward could do nothing to stop his movement, for he was not moving. He felt trapped, claustrophobic within the small back cocoon that had wrapped itself about him. The feel of the black substance was soft against his skin, the gentle rubbing of it soothing him. However, it was also bitingly cold, chilling the area at which it came in contact with his skin. Edward was torn between emotions, wishing to sink into the softness of the black substance, or to simply hide himself in the centre of the mass, trying to avoid contact and worry about where he was going.
The thought that he might be dead never crossed his mind, something in his mind giving whispers to him. This is not what death feels like, it said in a sly voice, almost knowingly. But you may wish to be dead. Edward shook the voice away, and sat in worry, pondering what he could do to get free of this predicament. No ideas came to mind.
Suddenly, he could see something. Or something’s. Millions of little white pinpricks of light suddenly shot past him, rushing towards him before they suddenly flew by and vanished behind him. They seemed like stars, yet did not contain the look that stars possess. Edward was starting to ponder what the small specks were when he suddenly saw a huge orb appear before him.
It started off like one of the pinpricks of light, but grew larger as he steadily came closer. Now it was as large as the moon is being viewed from the earth. Its mass hung there, coming ever closer. As it grew larger, Edward realised it was a planet. Clouds were scattered across its surface and oceans spanned between the clumps of land. Mountains began to form, and rivers took shape. Before long, only a small area was visible. It was then that Edward felt nothing. The black veil, which had been hanging around him, had gone. Now, however, he was falling.
The wind rushed past him, whistling in his ears, chilling him to the bone more effectively than what the black veil had done. Edward saw the world beneath him rushing forwards, coming ever closer. He could see buildings now, large hulks of stone, looking over the world. A large ring of mountains was directly before Edward, like a target. And like an arrow, Edward shot forwards. He closed his eyes, not wishing to see the end. He knew enough to be aware that when he stopped falling, he would hit the world beneath him. He would die upon impact.
Then, before he knew it, the wind around him ceased. The sound of it rushing past his ears was gone. He was still not game enough to open his eyes, aware that he was not touching anything. Sounds began to reach his ears. The sounds of wind rushing between the trees, birds chirping in the sun and the chattering of animals rushing on the forest floor. Edward listened, but still didn’t feel solid surface beneath him. So he kept his eyes tightly closed.
Then it happened. The ground met him. Edward had expected it to hit him with such force that it would shatter his bones and kill him instantly. However, it was like falling, very slowly, onto a bed of feathers. It padded him, stopping any injury from occurring. Edward listened for a few moments longer, before he opened his eyes and looked upon the world around him.
It was huge. It spanned before him like the layout of a house, only much larger. Rivers crisscrossed across the land, disappearing into thickets of tress, passing through dam walls and eventually vanishing behind large mountains or into the huge lake, in the centre of the land. Mountains towered above the shore of the lake, casting half of its glassy surface into the afternoon shadow. Mountains towered around the land, acting like a wall, keeping both outsiders out and insiders in. The sky was dotted by clouds, which cast curious shadows upon the basin of the large valley. In the centre of the land, to the west of the lake and bordering on the mountains was a tall castle, ringed by two walls and a moat. It was then met by a large flat plain, which spread to the foot of the mountains. The area that this land took up was enormous. Edward was so enthralled by the world that lay before him, he didn’t hear the arrival of the second person.
“Beautiful isn’t it,” a voice whispered into his ear. The voice was cold and dark and familiar. Edward leapt a foot into the air, and spun to see that tall menacing figure draped in the black hood and cloak. His face was still hidden by the shadow of his hood, even with the afternoon sun shining right into it. “This is Garlanding, your new home.”
“What?” Edward said astonished. “My new home?”
“That is what I said isn’t it?” the man asked, still in that same cold voice. Edward nodded. “Then why did you ask if that is what I said? Are you deaf?”
Edward shook his head. “What I meant was, why does this place have to be my new home? What was wrong with the other one?”
“You did not belong in that world,” the other replied, putting an almost repulsed emphasis on the second last word. “You belong here, according to the Third Law of King Rasta. You cannot go back either, so you had best be making yourself at home here.”
“Who is King Rasta, and what Law are you talking about?”
“‘Who is King Rasta?’ you ask?” the man said, almost with astonishment, yet still in a cold voice. “He was the ruler of the mighty land of Ingtar Shiba. He ruled for three generations, taking the throne when his father passed away while he was only ten. The King Rasta ruled Ingtar Shiba for one hundred years, before he was assassinated. He was, and still is, the most beloved King ever to have sat upon the throne at Estron.”
Edward stood there in bewilderment. He ruled where? Edward thought to himself. He knew that if he asked the man this, he would probably be most unhappy. “What are the Laws that you spoke of then?”
“There is a story to tell behind that answer,” the man said. He turned his head to look behind him, and said, “He’s late. I suppose I have the time to explain it to you. Be seated.”
Edward looked about him, saw a fallen tree two-steps behind him, and so sat down on it. The man sat beside him and lowered his hood. Edward struggled not to gasp. His face was hideous. It was waxy white, and bald. His mouth was simply a slit beneath a crooked nose, which seemed ready to drip the waxy skin from. But the most noticeable feature was the mans eyes. They were black, completely, and Edward felt as if they drilled right back into the mans skull. They were bottomless and pitiless. Edward shuddered and cast his glance somewhere else.
“Well,” the man said. “I suppose an introduction is necessary first of all. I am the Balance Keeper, and I make the balance of magic between your world and ours at the right level. Now, King Rasta has been dead for nearly nine and a half million years, and before he died, he gave me the ability to live forever, and not be able to be killed. Back then, the world was simple, and life was grand. Then some explorers came upon an object that captivated the King. It was a great circular arch, constructed from solid Uranium. It was an elegant object and caused the curiosity of King Rasta to stir. He spent many years staring at this object, wondering what it did. In the end, he discovered how it worked. A small heirloom that had been passed down through the generations of Kings and Queens was a key. This key operated this gate.
“King Rasta caused the gate to begin to work again,” the Balance Keeper explained, still in his same cold voice. Edward listened in silence, making it all sink in. “This gate was a portal to a world never entered by us. It led to planet Earth.” Edward snapped around and looked at the Balance Keeper. “The King sent an expedition of five men into the gate, and they sent back a report. It said that some very primitive creatures similar to themselves live on a large mass of land, just five hundred yards from their island that the second gate opened up onto. The King then had two hundred people ready to send into the portal, and when it glowed a yellowish green, the King would send through as many people as would be allowed. Eventually, the King himself entered.
“The world was fertile and clean, ready to be inhabited by intelligent life,” the voice of the man said coldly. “The King had the team of Magic Bearers at his command use their magic to alter their surroundings and make it more inhabitable. The King found out upon his arrival that an attempt at living on this island had already been made, by us. However, to cut a long story short, he found that their arrival on the island had altered the course of evolution in the world. The primitive creatures evolved so fast that within ten years, the islanders were placed under siege. The gate would not open for them, and King Rasta discovered that it would open within the next ten years. So they waited. After twenty years, the gate reopened, just as the invaders broke through the defences. King Rasta escaped, and ordered me to come with him.
“I followed,” the Balance Keeper continued. “He told me of what had ensued them, and that he must take measures to stop it from happening again. He created some laws. They are thus, ‘The practise of Magic upon fellow humans, or to aid ones self in technological abilities is discouraged.’ That is the First Law of Peace. ‘The opening of the Vintrok Gate is forbidden, and punishable by death.’ The Second Law of Life. ‘The presence of Magic in the land of the Unwanted is to be altered, and the magic be brought to its rightful place.’ The Third Law of Equality. Finally is the Fourth Law of Insurance. ‘The Laws must be abided by all, and ensured by the Balance Keeper. Failure to comply will result in exile.’”
“So I’m here on the basis that I have magic,” Edward said, looking at the Balance Keeper inquiringly. “I had magic in a place that wasn’t accepting it. That’s all.”
“That’s right.”
“Ok,” Edward said disbelievingly. “If this is the truth, then how come I am in this place? You said it was somewhere other than Inkcar Sheepa. Why aren’t I there.”
“You are standing at the Sacred Site of the Coming,” the Balance Keeper explained. “Garlanding was once a part of Ingtar Shiba. In fact, Garlanding never existed back when the Sacred Site of the Coming was placed. It was created by a colony of Lingratior Giants, a breed of Giants that was extinct many years ago. It is uncertain to how they caused the creation of Garlanding, for they vanished one night thousands of years before it was created, but the Dwarves claim to be the direct descendants of the giants. But, the Sacred Site of the Coming was close to the edge of Garlanding, exactly where we stand now. It was a beautiful shrine, with ornate carvings upon its surface and luscious gardens growing all around it. I was standing upon it with an exile when it collapsed.”
“How come you didn’t die?” Edward asked, forgetting what he had been told earlier. “What’s an exile?”
“An exile is someone who has been banished from his or her home world and forced to live in another under the Third Law of Equality or the Fourth Law of Insurance,” the Balance Keeper replied, still in his cold dark voice. “You are an exile. You have been ejected from your own world, because you do not belong. Now, I have already told you that I cannot die, nothing can kill me.”
“Oh,” Edward replied in a sheepish voice. “Sorry, I forgot.”
“I figured,” the other retorted. “Any other questions?”
“Yes,” Edward replied almost instantly. “What will my parents be wondering? I will never return home again, they would spend the rest of their lives in worry. How will they be made to accept my absence?”
“You do not exist in the normal world anymore,” the Balance Keeper said. Edward just stared.
“What?”
“You do not exist in the normal world anymore,” the Balance Keeper said again, looking at Edward with an expression bordering on bewilderment. “Must I repeat everything that I say to you?”
“Sorry,” Edward said, in an unconvincing voice. “But what do you mean I don’t exist anymore.”
“Any trace of your existence in your old world has been eliminated,” the Balance Keeper replied, as if commenting on the weather. “Your profiles have been erased. Your parents never gave birth to you, and live life as if you never existed. No one knows you. If you ever return to Earth, you will be non existent.”
“How is that possible?”
“Magic can do many things,” the Balance Keeper replied. “Especially when you’ve had as long as I have to perfect its ability. I can completely erase someone from any world, and make him or her unknown, even to his or her self. I can also, as you have witnessed, transport people between worlds and set up blocks on other people, forcing them to stay in the world they live in.”
“Oh,” Edward said, at a loss for words.
“Anything else that you would like to know while we wait for him to come,” the Balance Keeper asked.
Edward shrugged, in uncertainty, and looked over the edge of the cliff upon which they stood and surveyed the world beneath him. It was no longer green and lush, as he had first thought. In fact, it looked like it was dying, from some plague, which crossed the land and steadily killed many of the inhabitants. No life stirred, only the murky brown water that ran in the rivers moved. No wind stirred the trees and no bird songs reached their ears. The land was quiet, as if in waiting, or in fear, of something even it fears. This caused Edwards mind to click into gear.
“Why is the world so desolate?” Edward asked. The Balance Keeper looked about and took in what Edward had seen, but he seemed to be reading the land, as if it were a book that told the story of the Land. Edward looked also, in the attempt at being able to see what the Balance Keeper saw, but he only saw what he had seen before.
“It is sickened,” the Balance Keeper replied at long last. The sun was growing ever closer to the rim of the mountains in the west.
“Sickened?” Edward asked curiously. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that this land is not healthy,” the Balance Keeper said cryptically. “It is fallen victim to an evil that not even Garlanding can withstand.”
“What is the evil?”
“I think I could answer that,” another voice, more human voice, called from behind them.
“About time,” the Balance Keeper replied to the new voice without turning around. Edward, however, turned to see who had come.