Immortal Memories Page 2

  I, once again, lost my Geoffrey, still unable to make the leap of faith from man to god. He made such beautiful music for me, and I built a temple for his music. It is not an imperfect house, full of disingenuous dilettantes, with their dull and dogged discernments on the state of the arts. It is a temple to the music that moves and calms me -- a monument to my venerated friend. He wove songs from the tales of elder gods, from a time long since passed and forgotten by most -- so far away and sorely missed.

  It was strange that Geoffrey called himself Richard and feigned forgetfulness of our many adventures -- my brother, best friend and confidant. He centers me in each of his incarnations, drawing my consciousness back from the brink of madness with but a single word, and keeps me from succumbing to the legion that is my mind. It tortured my soul as I watched him grow feeble and old, the world tearing him apart -- tormented and lost. Beneath his pale blue eyes I sometimes could catch a glimmer of the Geoffrey I used to know and hope to know again, when we sailed the seas in search of our self-made providence.

  But that damnable, lecherous, murderous Gabryal is always just outside my vision, hovering like an evil specter in my periphery, taunting me. He was not far from my abode, hidden away in Austria, where he thought he was so cleaver, so crafty. I could smell his rot wafting over the snow covered mountains, beckoning me as a raven to decayed flesh. The others have become hopelessly complacent in their last expulsion of the demon, but on soft feet he has tread into our midst once more, foul thoughts and wicked deeds in his wake. The alchemist was right to entrust me with the cure to this virulent disease, a disease that has plagued humankind since first we looked up at the moon and saw the goddess. He will never find the heart.

  I drained the coffers of the Bavaria people, their lives a sacrifice in the name of the righteous way. The castle hides the secret that we have kept for millennia, awaiting the time when he will be most vulnerable – soon, soon. I must not be hasty. Deep within the bowels of the castle, the Black Heart beats, slow, very slow, but quickening with each passing year as the end time approaches, the end of all things, the beginning of the new. As a song fades with a diminishing echo, so it prepares the heavens for a new song to be born on the deft fingers and moistened lips of countless Awakened artisans. And despite our recent battle, the Shadow Load still does not know where it is, blinded by the corruption that fills his soul and clouds his judgment. Ever the fool.

  For nearly twenty years, I inhabited Ludwig -- the Fairy King, the Swan King and now the Mad King. He sleeps in here with us now, forever dreaming of his castles and childish whimsy. Sometimes he awakens me in the night, lost in a maze of nightmares -- naive, desperate and frightened. I silence him, sending him back to slumber with the others. Hush now, hush. Soon it will be over and only the Black Heart will remain, hidden away from the curious eyes of Immortal and man.

  They wanted to kill me -- how amusing and futile. Kill me? Ha! These sad, sleeping automatons, living machines, devoid of will and Weird cannot kill me. Death has no dominion over me, the scourge of the North. They tried, but not my sweet Geoffrey. He was spared the wrath of the ignorant, the false princes and ministers of this land in dire need of cleansing. Would that Thor, Odin and Loki would rise again to exact their revenge on the misguided thoughts of these feeble souls. Hatred boils their blood the more I am near, an effect of the dream and their lack of control, impossible to conceal from their accusing eyes and stabbing fingers.

  I nearly completed the fortress when it all came tumbling down, but the Black Heart is safe. Safe from that shadow of existence that blots the noonday sun with wickedness and greed. I should have listened to my Geoffrey, but my hatred attracted more than I expected. Now I must wait for my time to come once more.

  “Ludwig,” probed Geoffrey one night, as we sat sipping cognac, insisting on calling me the inferior name. “Why is this place so important to you? It is so far removed from the rest of your subjects, hidden away in cold mountains and secluded forest. I worry for you, my King, that you will be forever lost.”

  I laughed at him, his innocent, ill-thought questions entertaining. I told him that I needed to be away from the whining, the complaints, and misguided subjects with their failed endeavors, and blissful ignorance to the true game at hand. The subjects of Ludwig were merely pawns, callous and dreadful to say aloud, but the truth nonetheless. They drifted through existence in a fitful sleep, unaware that the actions they performed were without meaning unless I gave them meaning. Merely slaves to those who dream and are unafraid to impose their wills on the world. But, not my Geoffrey, he was different. Yet, try as I might, I have never been able to bring him forth, beyond his self-imposed sleep, into the sublime state of immortality. He is an unbeliever. Alas, it was too late and I laid his empty shell to rest years ago, but I will find him again as I have many times before.

  “Do you not feel this to be inherently wrong?” Geoffrey asked that cold evening, his brow furrowed against his internal struggle, trying to comprehend the incomprehensible. “Is it not the job of the King to care for his subjects?” He was playing a somber tune on the harpsichord, one I rather enjoyed, so I forgave his momentary transgression.

  I told him that they did not matter. We must sacrifice all that is necessary to stop the Shadow Lord and his iniquitous ways lest a fire consume us all, reduce memory to ash, and hope to a gasping cinder. Geoffrey did not remember that they all were empty shells, and their lives had little meaning. The darkness in my eyes conveyed to him my tolerance was limited, yet I explained that I was not a king, as I did so many times before. He found it difficult to see me through the lost, doe-like eyes of the Bavarian princeling, so I forgave his misunderstanding. I told him that there were greater things to accomplish; things that he need not be concerned. I expressed my displeasure in him probing further, but I knew his feline curiosity would visit the subject again at some later date.

  I will never forget their insolence, that early June morning when they presumed to take me from my greatest achievement, unknowing how foolish and ill-conceived their hatred for me was. I will be their savior and their judge one day, of that I am sure. I will bring reckoning for this imposition, against my duty to the world, and their screams will echo through the mountain valleys for all eternity. They declared this hapless German prince of being insane, and to be sure, he is quite mad or I would not have been able to so quickly push him to the subconscious and assume control. In hindsight, and through many internal discussions with the others who live within me, I should have been less callous, but they were merely Sleepers, and they would fade into time like a message in the sand. Matters that were more important required my attention.

  I should have anticipated the series of the events of the days that followed, their plans unfolding as they did, but my rage was unbounded at the audacity of these empty shells asserting their will over me, a true king of men -- I was blinded. I should have seen the weakness in Dr. Von Gudden – I should have paid attention. I should have seen it in his eyes when first he suggested that we were insane. I should have seen the lengthening of his shadow, and the evil in his eyes, but I did not have my Geoffrey there to calm me and center me. Geoffrey where are you? It is your time to return again.

  I should have smelt the stench dripping from his pores as they lead me to that forlorn childhood castle turned asylum, ripped from my work, my masterpiece. It is easy for rage to blind you, the blood filling my vision like ruby-colored glasses -- it is easy to mask evil behind innocence. I have learned this lesson a thousand times before, but the wrath inside me, from a thousand years of fighting, has caused me to become numbed, lost in the din of voices that fill my brain, each of my hosts too scared to reenter the void.

  They took me to that stale, plain room, deep within Castle Berg, hoping to imprison me and save their failing country, but that was over now. Bavaria would fall, but not through fault of mine, but through the innocence of a childling prince, thrust into manhood without the experiences of a man. The last vestiges of
my humanity wept for Ludwig who was kind, gentle and hopelessly misguided. Nevertheless, the others will care for him, deep within the recesses of my abysmal heart. And, perhaps one day, when all has been restored to as it should be, he will find peace in the new world.

  “Ludwig,” Von Gudden said, I remember distinctly as he dismissed the guards outside my cell. The voice was familiar to me then, but unfamiliar. It was merely a deception. “May I come in?”

  I accepted the invitation; I needed to be released to meet my faithful servant who waited to take me far away from this wretched place, forever concealing the secret of the whereabouts of the Black Heart.

  Von Gudden entered, a grave yet disingenuous expression darkening his face, as if he bore the news of a friend who had passed.

  “You must be cramped in these quarters, Herr Wilhelm,” he said with the subtlest hint of derision, and in that moment stripping me, stripping Ludwig, of his rightful title -- his birthright.

  “I am still King,” I warned. “And you would do well to remember that, because I will strike you down without a thought before you can draw a gasping breath enough to scream for your pathetic life.” Despite the bloated form of Ludwig, I still possessed my inner strength and I was certain I could snap Von Gudden’s neck without a thought. But, to the guards, this uncharacteristic display of anger and assertion would only prove the rumors of insanity.

  “My apologies,” replied Von Gudden with the same veiled derision. “My King...”

  “What do you want?” I insisted, anxious to dismiss him so that I could continue my plans for escape. There was still too much work to do.

  “It has been a long, trying day for you, I am sure,” he began with his feigned sense of concern. It was becoming clearer to me as he spoke that he was not who he appeared to be. This is often the case in the affairs of Immortals. But, I allowed him to persist.

  “I am due my supper,” I said dismissively. “Unless you have something constructive to say, or you are going to end this foolishness, please leave me.”

  “Actually,” he forced a smile. “I was going to suggest that we take a walk along the lake. It is a lovely evening, and we have long days ahead of us. Perhaps you will confide in me and we can exorcise your internal demons. You have many things to explain, Herr…” He stopped himself. “My King.”

  My natural suspicion would not allow me to blindly accept such a wanton display of compassion from a man who architected my incarceration, but I was also sure that he had no inkling that I had already made arrangements to escape. No prison has ever held me, unless it was by my will. With Ludwig here inside with us, I knew what he knew – this was his castle. But, because of the rage that burned inside, I saw it as an opportunity to escape, as well as to dispatch with the loathsome man that now stood before me.

  I remember the grandfather clock in the hall chiming six as Von Gudden ordered the guard to open my room. I knew I would be escaping that night, one way or the other. My trusted servant, Ives, would be waiting in the reeds by the shores of the lake – I remember feeling a great remorse inside knowing he would not survive the ordeal.

  As the guard opened the door, I could see Von Gudden standing off to the side, leaning on a cane, the hint of a smirk curled his lip – but that would not last for long.

  “Shall we,” asked Von Gudden, motioning down the hallway.

  As I stepped out of my prison cell – formerly a bedroom inhabited by the somnambulant Ludwig, I could sense something amiss, something familiar as I regarded the officious man standing before me. The guard went to grab my arm with such distain and disrespect it oozed from his pours with the stench of his sweat.

  “That won’t be necessary,” interrupted Von Gudden, motioning with his cane to the guard. “We can remain civil to the King until he is formally deposed.”

  I chuckled; they indeed amused me with their “civility”, caging me like a rabid animal in that dank, decrepit castle only to act as if I was on a holiday. I will tear it down one day, for the audacity of their insolence, but for now, I await a greater time.

  We left the castle as von Gudden instructed the detail of soldiers to stay behind. While curious that he would want to be alone with me, I tried to contain my delight. Freedom was waiting for me down the overgrown footpath, leading me away from the ignorance of these sleepers, and returning me to the pursuit of righteousness. I will rule the north once more with my bestial friends and internal legion.

  As we walked in silence, I sensed the familiar scent of the Weird beginning to surround me like a mist, dulling my senses with euphoria. I suppressed my own Weirdness, careful not to expose my location as it shines like a beacon on the shores of reality, harkening the other Immortals to come, beckoning them. The Alchemist was specific that I not display any of my abilities until my task was finished, and now that it was, for the most part, I would be free.

  “Well now,” Von Gudden broke the silence, dispelling my reverie as we reached the edge of the lake. “You have been a very difficult person to find, Deakin.” He paused dramatically, as usual. I knew instantly that it was he, the Lord of Shadow; his arrogance had no bounds, and his choice of words unmistakable. “You have no idea how much money and influence I have exerted to orchestrate the series of events leading up to this critical moment.”

  I was ready for the moment, knowing he would not stop until he found the Black Heart. But I knew he could not be sure that I had it, despite my erratic temperament, I have a great deal of respect for the Alchemist, and I gave him the word of my honor, the honor of my family and the honor of my father that I would not allow it to fall in Gabryal’s hands.

  “Finally,” I responded jovially. “I have so grown weary of being addressed by that name. A child-like king lost in a dream from which he will never wake.”

  We stopped and looked at one another; I could see the Weirdness in him begin to surface from the depths, the unmistakable indigo sparks of the Weird crackled around him. He must have masked it on his journey from Austria to Bavaria, hidden it beneath the frail shell that now stood before me. I would need to be swift, before he could jump into my own waiting shell.

  “I must say,” he said as he displayed his hallmark toothy grin, revealing his true form to me for a fraction of an instance, his unmistakable Sumerian features and those piercing devilish eyes. “He has really destroyed this country with his castles, has he not? But, they will remain for all time. It’s a pity he’ll never enjoy them again.”

  I scanned the coastline of the lake casually, disinterestedly. The game had begun, and he would make every attempt to sway me to his side, as he has done so many times before. I could see Ives waiting in the reeds, but I was unsure at the time as to whether he too sensed him.

  “What do you want, Gabryal?” I tried to mask my annoyance, a trait Geoffrey tried to teach me time and again. When dealing with Sleepers and Dreamers, it is easy to treat them as children – but when dealing with Immortals, one must never underestimate their experience, and their command of the Weird.

  “You know what I want, my friend,” replied Gabryal, his words dripping like poison from his daggered smile. “I must know where the Alchemist has hidden the Black Heart, so we can end this nonsense.” He waved his hand dismissively, always fearful to speak the Alchemist’s name aloud as not to draw his attention. “The Sleeper population must be reduced so that we can return the Weird to this world, return magic so that we, you and I, can change the face of this miserable little rock which has become our prison. We’ve been left here to wither while One and the others exert their will upon the rest of the universe.”

  I laughed heartily at him, “You know Shemhazai wouldn’t trust me with something that important.” I grinned. “You know I have a tendency to be… unpredictable.”

  Gabryal narrowed his gaze at me, I could see the urge to use his Weirdness building inside – the lengthening shadow behind him, moving of its own free will as if to lash out at me -- but that would most certainly draw the attention of the others,
as well as enrage any nearby Sleepers.

  “That is precisely why I think he gave it to you to guard,” his tone becoming annoyed and unsettled. “I’ve grown weary of his games. His affronts to my superior intellect.”

  Again, I laughed in his face, full and bellowing, “If you’re such the superior intellect, why do you not have it already?”

  “Because,” he retorted. “All of you are too blind to see the true uses of such an artifact. It is our duty to cleanse this world and return it to an age when we ruled as gods, and the Sleepers were merely cattle for our return. Their numbers have grown unchecked.” He jabbed me hard with the cane in the center of my chest, a spark of electricity surging through my bones, exerting blatant, raw Weirdness on me. “You of all people should know that. Do you not long to be rid of the constant voices, the whining of these wretched constructs that fill this pathetic little world? They plague it with their banality, their disbelief, weakening all of us with each passing century.”

  “No,” I said, Geoffrey’s words whispering in my mind. Stay calm, my friend. Stay calm.

  “Well, then,” he said, waving a hand over his head. “Until we meet again, Deakin.”

  Without warning a tendril of shadow erupted from his mid-section, encircling me in a near paralyzing grasp. Two shots rang out in the distance, and I could feel them pierce my back -- red hot metal dissolving my insides. I did not respond as Gabryal smiled. But, he, with his superior intellect, underestimated me once again. I summoned everything I suppressed for two decades, storing my power for this one moment, and lunged at him, knowing that the life was draining from Ludwig. He seemed somewhat shocked and surprised when I grabbed his head, and with one quick twist broke his neck, turning it to face the way we came, like an owl’s head.