The Sorcerer Mardoth

Underneath the starless night sky; hiding behind a veil of sinister clouds, the light emitting from the unusual glow of a large and powerful moon could be seen. An otherwise glorious and magnificent "Full Moon" was revealed to him, only when it was exposed, uncovered, momentarily from the parting of the electrically charged, and vicious thunderheads. These thunderheads were abnormal, caused by the sudden and remarkable recent changes in the weather.

The "thunderheads" that surrounded the foreboding moon, eerily seemed to resemble a dark committee of shadowy specters, visages of which looked to be that of a council of wicked and aggravated Gods. It was the day of the summer solstice; normally the climate would have been warm and temperate, even humid or balmy at this time of year. However the eruption of the Volcano had blanketed the entire globe of the planet turning the warmer parts of the globe into the likeness of it freezing counter parts. This was one of the reasons for the unusual sacrifice of the Kings daughter.

The parting of these violent clouds, cruelly revealed, the true sinister nature, of this malevolent moon. This was a disturbing moon, bathed in a blood red glow, from the ash and toxic gasses released into the upper atmosphere from the eruption event, upon this unholy night. As well known only to the priest, was that Mars was quite close to its aphelion at the time of its opposition, perhaps causing greater gravitational stresses upon our his planet thus being the final weigh stone for the eruption of which occurred on the previous days.

The eruption had occurred close to where he currently was. It had completely destroyed the Island he had attended and the school where he learned his alchemistic ways. But not so close as to be impending to his death, but nearly... nearly enough that consistent and timely earthquakes shook the ground beneath his feet violently, violently enough that some of the lintel stones did indeed fall on the day of The Event”.

Close enough that all of the trees in the surrounding area had been set to blaze. And even though it had not yet been a fortnight since the eruption their still smoldering fires only added to the unearthly glow, the smoldering fires had burnt villages and the smell of the stench of the bodies still burning within them, overwhelmed him with dread at times. In the far distance he could hear the screaming of woman and the wailing of small children mixed with the shouts from the frantic movements of men barking useless orders to save or salvage whatever was left, when then the ground beneath Mardoth's feet shook again.

Beneath this presentiment sky, lay the archaic large stone monoliths, the "sarsen" stones and "bluestones" which formed the giant granite columns and motifs of ancient Druid construction.

The well-designed brilliance of the blood red Moon was mostly hiding behind a veil of an electrically charged darkness of black looming vapor. A blanket of thick, black and ominous clouds blocked most of the celestial event, of which only took place every three thousand years. He could not view the supernatural event entirely with his mortal eyes because his eyes were consistently being blinded by brilliant flashes, of the violent and fierce arcing, of the electrical discharges in the atmosphere. They aggressively struck the ground with violent and destructive intent. He must hearken to use his ancient craft; the art that was handed down to him from his forefathers.

He was lucky to have been here on a pilgrimage to teach his arcane ways to a select few throughout the many lands. He spent most of his time at Santorini consumed by the libraries there; his thirst for the "lost" knowledge was unquenchable.

At "Stonehenge" currently the landscape was surreal, unearthly and impending especially when this arcing and the parting of the clouds revealed the crimson colored moon, this combined with the frantic lightning strikes and thunderous booms.

These events combined were as well felt in the vibrations of the earth beneath his feet and the granite pillars he was touching at the time. Everything about this deed sent shivers down Mardoth's spine and raised the tiny hairs on the back of his neck. He knew that he must make haste before the approach of the monster. Although Mardoth could manipulate time to some extent, and he would have to do so to accomplish his task, he could not control the beast.

The violent discharges of these electrical tendrils, were striking the ground, in the threatening black distance, but it was forthcoming, foretelling the approach of the monstrous beast. A hungry tempest, unleashed upon mortal kind from some "other" place.

Each step the creature took resounded in a loud applaud of thunder, the furious burst of luminous flashes were also the signs of the beasts approach. The echoing booms of thunder, from the distance as well mocked all who were before it, with its incensed laughter. "Burn you to fire ha, ha, ha,!" The imposing stones of the temple shook and vibrated with each step the creature took toward him "Eat your children Ha! Ha! Ha!" The beast roaring closer; "I will dine upon your souls Ha! Ha! Ha!” it pervasively came closer towards "her" towards him, towards them. Mardoth's vision, as he perceived the "event" taking place above the clouds, was keen to the events unfolding there, a temperament of seeing, he acquired which had been honed from the many years of spiritual discipline. He knew he must await the crescent and the arcing. But first he must acquire the jewel.

Mardoth was a High Priest of a lost order, of a special group known throughout the many inhabited worlds, occupied planets of the infinite cosmos. This brotherhood was known throughout the sands of time. They existed in all ages of endless history, they were immortal, and always there have been thirteen of them. They were the thirteen master builders of the temple of Notre Dame. Inlaid within the architecture of this sacred temple is the science and mathematics (spells) of ways lost to the world of Modern Humankind.

They called themselves The Brotherhood of light, and they could be found throughout History to our current time. The secrets of which were taught to him by his Grandfather were handed down to him through a long lineage of seer priest. Many secrets had been revealed to him even when he was a young boy because he held the sign since before his birth. Mardoth was special. He would have been Prince Mardoth, then King Mardoth had it not been for the sign of Ceres'

In this peculiar and foreboding way Mardoth could sense the eerie presence of the arcane symbol above. The night grows cold, shivering him to his bones. The icy chill comes with an old familiar companion, a dark silhouette of which first makes its companionship known to him when an overwhelming feeling sadness and grief gives him the warning. It is then that the terror sets in. He must face the monster that would come to take her soul, and she was made sacrifice for this holy day by the local tribes people and their dark malevolent ways. Their ways were this, "they' spilled innocent virgin blood from the bodies which were possessed by the purest of souls; children of the light, The spilling of this innocent blood had to be executed at a fixed reference point (The monuments they built for such purposes) on specific days, at specific times using a selection of mixed and different rituals. Their means were exotic and taught to them by the priest of an ancient "dark order"

Mardoth finds himself painfully alone, yet again. To save her he must travel again through time. How can I explain what a painfully difficult task this was for one of "his" ways. He could easily get lost in a future life time to never find his way back. He could experience entire life cycles when only seconds had passed at the stone temple, but this he must do, it was the only way to save her soul. The priests of the dark order had put a very dark and powerful spell upon her, even he was not sure that he could mend and undue what they had done, and if he could not he would as well perish with her, for they were "soul mates" not just kindred souls. If one should perish then so would the other. So for without her...

For without her he was truly...

Alone...

He thinks of the only person of whom he has ever let close to his heart, for a moment the sun is shining as he visualizes her perfect smile... Then for some unknown reason dark clouds roll in with a loud clap of thunder...lightening flickers in the far of distance just before the willow whips of light make their presence known, their electric tendrils dancing menacingly towards the earth, He feels as if they are laughing at him.

The sinister black presence is hungry "It" knows that he is alone again... and "it" expects its feast of his soul again, of which it will dine on all through the night."

Again, he is here, alone, cast out, left for dead, abandoned. He cannot tolerate one more moment of this relentless torture, but the darkness shows him no mercy, not for him... The darkness does not know of the trickery of the sorcerer. The agony of the Sorcerer however will continue throughout the night, until Mardoth is begging for his death, but even then his torture will not abate. He will have no-peace, not tonight. Not for him." Not here where he has come to attend the ceremony only for the newly sacrificed dead and the dark entity to feast.

The ceremony of the dead was an ancient druid ceremony and it was performed when great warriors or a king died, as well it was performed as it was at this time for reasons known only to a few. These few were fashioned to be administrators of iniquitous evil.

Most of these ceremonies and rituals were sacrificial in nature and were sometimes performed with great brutality, and at other times with a tranquil and benevolent means where during a merry festival and joyful event, Like their very own marriage ceremony, a sweet poisoned elixir enticing a feeling of euphoria was administered to the victim after succumbing peacefully to the effects of the powerful drug This ritual was always given to a virgin, sometimes a male virgin, sometimes a female. To make a sacrifice of a Virgin was a mystical pagan belief that life exist on the "other side" but the "rite of passage" was only allowed when this offering of a virgin was given to their sinister God.

It was here underneath the spires of old where he would begin the ritual to contact her, where on the previous night the ceremony of her death was performed. And there before him on the cold damp granite lay her corpse. The Laurel halo wreath, still shrouded, her blond curly hair. Suddenly he caught the aroma of the myrtle leaves mixed with the odor of her copper scented blood, this then made his stomach convulse and heave, yet he controlled his emotions, as he was taught. Even here in this vanishing state, with her throat cut, and the silver bowel of her blood, which was collected underneath the granite slab she was still a creature of exquisite beauty. She had died a peaceful death, How she died, her emotional state of being was very important to the executioners.

The special drug they used entrapped her soul within her corporeal blood for twenty three point seven hrs. The dark entities thus contracted, revealed the rituals to the pagans in precise detail, for payment of this offering. The pagans were filled with promises that would not come into fruition for thousands of years. Yet they gave humankind enough knowledge to keep them entrapped to their bidding.

Mardoth considers the unwise; "Her memory has not yet faded." He thinks to himself in blatant disregard for the ancient ways he has been taught. He wants to be ablative, he wants to sever the rules, and he wants to liberate her now! "Perhaps I can hold on, for a little while...she does not know it but she can take us away from this place to a place where there are no nightmares, where the "thing" cannot follow but first I must awaken her. But I cannot awaken her yet. No! I will not."

They both did not see the solitary figure in the dark hooded robe observing them both from beyond the meadow in a much larger wooded and more secluded area Mardoth was monitoring them with the keenest of interest. The Druid priest had traveled to his distant future, in search of the jewel that must be found for her, for her freedom and their immortality.

Suddenly Mardoth is swept far away from the moment, from this day, that was "their" day, the day that belonged only to the two of them, where the sun was shining immaculately bright, high above the deep azure skies. The sky changed colors from the vivid blue's to the lighter pastel shades of blue, beyond of which lay the blackness of space and the vastness of the starry skies beyond. The faint chill of winter could be felt in the cool autumn air. His mind slipped into a day dream of which was a nightmare from his sordid past...

... Over the past decades as well as lifetimes, she had become the only one who was truly sacred to him, and there is nothing that he would not do for her, not even now in death. "I must remember" He tantalizes himself. ...something about the death of a beautiful princess, a dark hooded figure, lighting and a sinister laughing in the background...the memory fades, out of reach, it is gone, again.

“The color of the sky was a strange, dark orange, opaque…

Author"s Note... This story is continued on "Desert of Fire."

Written 2010 Copyright All rights reserved Cerey E. Runyon

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