Origin of Evil

By Sinistral

 

 

Part Two: Dark Nexus

 

Chapter Five: The Appointed Time

 

 

The thunder and lightning crashed around the towers and turrets of Mageforce Castle. The rain lashed down as if the very foundations of the sky had erupted into spontaneous lamentation. Menas sat at the window of his chamber looking out across his dark and barren lands. He noticed that the thugrons had not stopped their work despite the heavy rain. They toiled away, water dripping from their green matted hair and off their hideous sallow skin.

 

“Brainless, senseless wretches,” he said to himself. “Perfect for menial assignments but useless beyond that. I still cannot believe that they were once seraphs.”

 

He was suddenly struck with the amusing thought of practicing his powers on the creatures just out of plain boredom. He smiled as he imagined striking down the ignoramuses with the Dark Destiny. Who would know? Who would care?

 

Then he remembered why he was bored in the first place. Many years had passed since he had been banished from the Spirit World. Eighteen years had passed to be precise. He knew that it was soon time for him to act upon the ancient prophecy that was wrapped around his evil self like a boa constrictor. It was a heavy burden but one that he could handle, especially when he contemplated its glorious outcome. He stared into a mirror on the opposite wall. He had not changed at all. His long black hair fell to his shoulders while the Menas-Rouge gleamed on his chest. As he stared at its unfathomable design he was reminded of Noxious. He lowered his eyebrows and stroked his beard.

 

“Things had better work out correctly this time. I would hate to imagine that I was headed for another defeat. I swear that someone will pay if the plan fails again.”

 

Eighteen years meant that his sons, the mysterious Unholy Quaternity, were ready for his iniquitous intervention into their existence. But the exact time was still unclear. He would have to consult Rosencrantz on the matter. The Archmage had been very supportive over the years. He had taught Menas new powers and how to master his sword in battle. All the while the avian-like Zaxx had watched him, with an almost envious look at times. Menas was not concerned. He cared not for those around him and only sought to achieve his prophesied destiny.

 

Then there were his other allies. Lord Tartarus had explained to him the secrets of nether lore, how to call upon malicious powers and, more importantly, how to control them. His sister, the old soothsayer, Emalgar, had clarified the importance of prophecy. The part that intrigued and also troubled Menas was the immortal fact that one was bound to their destiny and could never escape it. Fate could be both a generous and a cruel mistress.

 

Finally there was the one person who haunted Menas’s thoughts night and day. The Netherwitch, Lady Nefari, was still a mystery to him. After all the time that had passed his feelings for her were still strong. But he had never acted upon them. He feared the wrath of her husband? No, he was not afraid of Tartarus. He feared that she would reject his advance? Oddly enough that seemed a logical explanation. He was very much aware of what she had told him about her true feelings towards Tartarus. Was that perhaps an indication? Who could tell?

 

Still he visited her regularly and spoke with her on the matter of winning over the people of Recalcitrant, the reclusive demonites and their stubborn leader, Elder Uraeus. Menas’s attempts at turning them to his will were fruitless to say the least. Elder Uraeus had been unimpressed with his claims and all his protestations had fallen upon deaf ears. He was becoming irritated with them. He threatened them with his magic but they were still not moved. He recently had considered a full-scale attack on Recalcitrant, forcing the demonites to except him as the universal leader. To this idea Lord Tartarus had been enthusiastic. ‘I’ll send a thousand behemoths’ he had assured. But Nefari and Rosencrantz had advised caution, telling him not to do it unless it was absolutely necessary. Either way they would bend to him eventually, he was sure of that.

 

However, there was a much more immediate concern of his. He decided that he would speak with Rosencrantz and possibly Emalgar as well. He walked down the murky hallways of Mageforce Castle until he reached the main vestibule. It was then that he spotted Zaxx standing by the large wooden doors that lead to Rosencrantz’s grand chamber. Zaxx looked up as Menas approached.

 

“What are you staring at?” snapped Menas irritably. “I’m not too sure that you like me very much. Maybe it’s because I’m occupying all the time of your precious master. You’re jealous.”

 

“I’m sure I do not know what you are talking about my lord,” replied Zaxx, clearly finding himself to be above Menas’s childish taunts. “You stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours.”

 

With that Zaxx walked off in the direction of the castle exit without looking back. Menas was left speechless.

 

“What impudence. He would be wise not to annoy me. He would regret such a move.”

 

Menas pushed open the wooden doors and stepped into the large hall. Rosencrantz was standing over his cauldron, evidently studying something very closely. When Menas entered the Archmage greeted him without looking up.

 

“Ah Menas. I’ve been watching over the White Citadel all morning. The time for decisive action is very near. I believe that before the day is over you shall seize the throne from Osiris.”

 

“What!” cried Menas, finding it hard to take in what Rosencrantz had just said. “You mean that my sons are now ready?”

 

“That is correct. Your foolish brother, the King, has failed to listen to the Book of Creation and has still not told your sons anything about their true heritage. They know little of you Menas. You will be the first to tell them.”

 

“The Book of Creation is an abominable thorn in our sides. I have a good mind to wipe it out before I do anything else.”

 

Rosencrantz’s head shot up in the direction of Menas. He looked almost petrified.

 

“No, you must not do that!” he cried. “By all things black and twisted, that would spell disaster!”

 

“Why?”

 

“Think! Think! If you attack the Book without first disposing of the others there will always be the slight possibility of that wretched thing flying to the hands of one who could wield its power as the Supernova. If that sword is used against you again then you are finished. Your plan will fail and you will never again be able to act against those that banished you.”

 

Menas began to understand and cursed himself for his rash judgement.

 

“Then I will kill the others and then destroy the Book.”

 

“That too would cause your plan to fail.”

 

Menas was beginning to get rather frustrated with the wizard. Nothing he seemed to suggest was right. However, he tried to control his temper and calmly waited for Rosencrantz’s explanation as to why that would not work.

 

“And why would that be wrong, great possessor of countless wisdom?” sighed Menas.

 

“Do not mock me Menas.”

 

The Archmage’s voice now had a hint of warning. He looked at Menas carefully, without blinking. Menas found himself reluctant to stare the old sorcerer in the eye. Something inside told him that Rosencrantz prized his own wisdom greatly and failed to find even light ridicule of any amusement.  

 

“I am here to prevent you from failing,” continued the Archmage. “I am trying to help you. I noticed how brash you were with poor Zaxx a few minutes ago. If you are to be successful in whatever you are doing, the first thing you must master is your temper. You will never be able to control anything if you cannot control yourself.”

 

Menas felt ashamed. Rosencrantz had been nothing but encouraging over the past eighteen years. He did not deserve this.

 

“I apologize Rosencrantz and I take note of what you have said. It has been a long time and I have been left to brood for far too long. I promise to heed your advice in the future.”

 

“I hope so. To get back to what I was saying. The reason why you cannot simply kill Osiris and the rest of your siblings and then attack the Book is very simple. In fact, it is one that you should remember as it was the main reason behind your last failed attempt. If you attack Osiris and the others, the Book will be alerted and come to their aid. Then it would be all over. You must divert the Book at the same time as disposing of the court.

 

“But how?

 

“Your sons have great evil powers within them. They just do not know it yet. When your son, Abydos, was younger, he called upon such powers to attack the Book of Creation. He failed. But the combined force of your sons’ powers should be enough to temporarily keep the Book distracted while you execute your retribution. Then it will be a simple matter to eliminate the Book.”

 

“Of course. I see that now. And I will call upon the nether lore that Lord Tartarus has taught me.”

 

“To what ends?” asked Rosencrantz.

 

“To stop the Book of Creation from alerting Osiris when I come through the portal. Speaking of that, I will need the Time Staff at last.”

 

Rosencrantz lifted his hand and a long white staff appeared before Menas. Menas caught the staff before it hit the ground. He examined it. It was not very remarkable, being just a simple staff of some unknown wood.

 

“Not very impressive, is it?” said Rosencrantz.

 

Menas was about to speak but found that the words could not enter his mouth. Rosencrantz began to laugh.

 

“You are the most predictable individual I have ever encountered. The reason why you happen to be tongue-tied is because I already said what you were going to say. Predictability is not a quality to be proud of Menas.”

 

Menas glared at the wizard and gripped the Time Staff firmly in his fist. The Staff began to get very hot and Menas dropped it. Words, in some strange language, began to appear along the wood.

 

“What’s happening?” stammered Menas.

 

“The Staff has sensed your strength of feeling. It feeds off emotion. That is how it works. Anger, fear, even happiness will work its magic. We are not sure what the words mean exactly but Lord Tartarus and I have come to the conclusion that they say ‘command me’.

 

Menas picked up the Time Staff once again and shouted, “The Spirit World! The White Citadel!”

 

Suddenly there was a loud noise like the ripping of fabric and a clean tear appeared in the air before Menas’s eyes. He looked through the slash. He could see the outside of the enormous building that had once been his home. Rosencrantz looked worried.

 

“Close that! Quickly, before somebody sees you!”

 

“How do you close the portal?”

 

“Seal it up with the Staff,” answered the Archmage.

 

Menas was not too sure what that meant but followed his instincts as to what he thought it had meant. He traced the top of the portal with the Staff and lowered it to the bottom. The hole vanished.

 

“Do you know what you are going to do once you have gone through the portal?” questioned Rosencrantz. “You must remember that the Time Staff cannot go with you.”

 

“In that case I shall the leave the portal open until I have achieved my goal. The barriers between the two kingdoms must crumble eventually. As to the question, I do know what I intend to do. My sons must be told everything and then I will enlist their help in ridding myself of the scum that remain. I will open the portal again soon and this time I will use a cloaking spell to conceal myself from the everlasting gaze of the Book of Creation as I enter into the world that I once lived in. It will soon be my world to rule.”

 

 

 

 

That afternoon in the east wing of the White Citadel, three of the four brothers sat in deep conversation. Well, it was more of an argument as Abydos was hardly ever one for reasonable discussion. This worried the others greatly as he was becoming more and more like his father as the years went by. Athothis and Arbchee were trying hard to console him but with little success.

 

“I think that you are blowing this well out of proportion,” said Athothis. “I do admit that it is a precarious subject but one that I would like to say I have found out all I would wish to know.”

 

“How can you dare stand there and say that!” shouted Abydos. “I have waited eighteen years for an explanation but I have never been given one. Uncle Osiris is lying to us. They keep us from the truth because they fear what it might do to us, or them.”

 

“But how can you be sure?” asked Arbchee.

 

“That story about our father and mother succumbing to illness. It doesn’t ring true at all. I’ve asked Uncle Osiris many times and he’s just pushed me away. I get the same reaction from Aunt Isis and Uncle Anubis. Uncle Thoth looks to me as if he would like to tell me something. I wish he would. Whatever dirty secret they have it must be something they are all ashamed of.”

 

“Perhaps they are not telling us the full story about Menas and Charmian for a good reason?” said Arbchee.

 

“Even so, we have a right to know.”

 

“I agree with you Abydos,” sighed Athothis. “But it would be useless to bring up that subject now. Everyone’s so excited about the birth of Horus and Iras’s children. She’s had quadruplets, can you believe. And we are destined to be bachelors like Uncle Thoth and Anubis. That upsets me so.”

 

“Quadruplets,” said Arbchee. “Just like us.”

 

“Not quite,” said Abydos, giving his brothers a serious look.

 

Athothis nodded. He knew what Abydos was talking about. It was a matter that concerned all three of them and had become more and more apparent as time went by. The absent brother, Anquat, was dedicating much of his time to his cousin Iras. They all knew that he cared for her and such adoration was dangerous, especially with her being married to Horus already.

 

“Anquat has been spending a lot of time with our cousin. They have always been close, even though she belongs to Horus.”

 

“He’s so weak,” spat Abydos. “She just has to flutter her eyelashes and he’s above the clouds. I tell you she knows what she’s doing. She’s poison.”

 

“I don’t think so,” said Athothis. “She is not the type to do that. And besides, I do not believe that Anquat has any special feelings for her.”

 

“Who’s that?” said a voice from the doorway.

 

The three bothers looked around to see their cousin Prince Horus. He looked expectant. Athothis and Arbchee nodded. Abydos smiled strangely.

 

“What were you talking about?” asked Horus.

 

“Why do you presume that it is any of your business?” said Arbidos. “We were having a private conversation.”

 

“Come on Abydos. We are cousins after all. There’s no need for hostility,” said Horus, smiling at his three cousins. “I was meaning to ask this. Will you come to the birth ceremony of my children tonight?”

 

“Of course,” said Athothis. “How are the children?”

 

“They are fine Athothis. I believe my daughters will make fine rulers one day. But perhaps I am being an overoptimistic father.”

 

“Perhaps I know something that you do not,” said Abydos, to which Athothis shot him a worried glance.

 

“What would that be?” asked Horus, laughing lightly. “Have you developed a sense of humour or something?”

 

“Oh, just a rumour that I heard about your wife playing you for a fool. Have you noticed all the time she’s been spending with Anquat?”

 

“There is nothing to that. Anquat is just being a loyal cousin. It’s a pity you cannot be the same.”

 

“I wonder what sick pleasure she gets out of using her wiles to entrap hapless males. And she will take anyone. I fancy a go myself one day.”

 

“That’s it!”

 

Horus leapt on Abydos and pinned him against the wall. Abydos laughed loudly and pretended to squirm. Horus held him firmly, refusing to loosen his grip. He had come to the end of his tether with his wretched cousin. This time he meant to teach him a lesson.

 

“I’ve had just about enough of your scheming. If you don’t watch out I’ll have father send you where he sent your monster of a father!”

 

Abydos began to see red. The subject of his father was always in the back of his mind and everyone knew how delicate the issue was to him. He pushed Horus off himself and onto the floor. He held his cousin down powerfully.

 

“What did you say? You know the truth about our father! Tell us!”

 

“I don’t know what you are talking about?”

 

“Liar! You hide all the answers!”

 

Abydos punched Horus hard in the face. He let out a cry of pain. Then Abydos was thrown back onto the ground by a sudden force of energy. He yelled in agony as the mysterious symbol on his chest began to glow and burn into his flesh. Horus stared in horror at his incensed cousin.

 

“Abydos! Stop that!”

 

Aybdos looked up to see Anquat standing over them with a look of utter bewilderment. He helped Horus to his feet and tried to examine the cut on his face. Horus pushed him away angrily.

 

“Sorry Horus,” said Anquat. “I don’t know how to explain my brother’s awful behaviour.”

 

Horus simply brushed himself of, glared at Abydos and walked off. When he was halfway down the corridor he stopped and looked back at Anquat.

 

“I think you ought to stay away from Iras from now on. I am her husband and none of you had better forget it. You are all too freakish for me. Stay away from us.”

 

Then he was off, never looking back. Anquat stared down at the dazed Abydos. He then glanced at Athothis and Arbchee.

 

“What was that all about?” asked Anquat. “And why did he tell me to stay away from Iras? You’ve done it again, haven’t you? You always overreact Abydos!”

 

“Spare me your indignation brother,” said Abydos, rubbing his sore chest. “We have more important things to discuss.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Like the fact that our cousin knew about what really happened to our father.”

 

“What?”

 

“Horus let something slip when we were brawling before. He spoke of our father being banished somewhere. Our Uncle has deceived us. He has put his beloved son before us. Even in the matter of our heritage. It makes me sick! And then all of a sudden this blasted symbol flares up.”

 

Anquat was speechless. He had always had his doubts about the story of his parent’s fate and this revelation made him feel even more assured that his Uncles and Aunt were biased towards Horus and Iras. Was that fair? Suddenly Iras did not seem like the innocent girl he knew her to be.

 

“How could they do that to us? I still fail to see.”

 

“I know Anquat,” said Abydos. “We must now confront them on the matter. The sooner the truth is out in the open the better.”

 

“But Iras. I still cannot imagine her to have kept information from me.”

 

“Face it Anquat. She and the others have been deceiving us.”

 

Anquat hung his head looking utterly miserable. Athothis and Arbchee followed suit. Abydos, on the other hand, looked determined. He was finally going to get what he wanted, some way or another.

 

“Let us go and force them to tell us the truth. I swear I will find out what really happened to our parents.”

 

Suddenly there was a horribly loud tearing noise and a flash of light appeared in the air. The brothers leapt back in fright. The tip of some long instrument could be seen drawing a perfect vertical line in the air. When the line reached the floor it began to stretch and a striking dark-haired stranger casually walked into the room.

 

“What in the name of all things sacred!” cried Anquat. “I’m going to call Uncle Osiris!”

 

“Shut up you fool!” shouted Abydos. “Look at his chest!”

 

The brothers gasped. The stranger had the same strange symbol, on his chest, as they did. All four brothers were now transfixed with both fear and confusion.

 

“You have the same mark,” said Abydos, trembling. “Who are you?”

 

“I am the Dread Lord Menas of the Demon Realm, the brother of King Osiris,” said Menas, smiling darkly. “And yes, I am also your father.”

 

The brothers could not move. They were frozen with shock. Finally Abydos attempted to reply.

 

“How did you…”

 

Menas raised his arm to silence his mesmerized son.

 

“Let me explain Abydos. I have a lot to say and very little time.”

 

Menas then proceeded to tell them everything, from the time that he and his siblings had overthrown Ra, to the time that he had been told of his destiny, to the time of his banishment and the eighteen years that had followed.

 

When he was finished the four brothers still found it difficult to say anything. The whole situation was too strange for words. Abydos looked at Menas. It was his father. He was definitely not what he had imagined. Menas stared back into his eyes. There was a mutual affinity between father and son.

 

“So this revenge against King Osiris is based upon the fact that you were never allowed equal power to his?” said Anquat. 

 

“More than that Anquat, much more,” replied his father. “Osiris may be a good and fair person on the outside but underneath he is selfish. He is sole possessor of ultimate power and he refuses to share it. Horus shall be the same when he is older.”

 

“But the others have not complained,” said Arbchee.

 

“Yes, but they have excepted it and chosen to abide by Osiris’s laws. Why? Who gave him the right to dictate to us all? The weak in this life do not survive. One must be forceful and determined to succeed. In the beginning I was a firm believer in the virtues of equality. But the terms of Osiris’s prophecy taught me that only a single individual can rule and others must obey. Following that logic I am determined to show Osiris that I am capable of supreme power, that I am the one. If one believes strongly enough in their convictions then they must ultimately be right. Those who disagree shall have to be disposed of.”

 

The brothers all nodded in agreement. They were not sure why but they approved of every word he said. Somehow it meant a great deal to the four brothers that had grown up as underdogs, forever in the shadows of their royal cousins.

 

“And we have been deceived,” said Abydos. “Osiris has kept the truth from us. He told us that you died of illness.”

 

“Such pathetic behaviour is typical of Osiris. By doing this he has proven to you that he does not trust you. He never intends to share any power with you. His precious children come first where he is concerned and they always have.”

 

“And we cannot let them win!” said Anquat, who seemed to be riled up all of a sudden. “They have kept us in the dark for so long. They do not respect us. I have been such a fool. I let Iras trick me by pretending to flirt with me. All the time she was probably laughing behind my back with her wretched husband.”

 

The brothers looked at each other. They began to grow angrier and angrier, thinking of how they must have been ridiculed by the others at court.

 

“Now you understand,” said Menas. “I must now ask if you will aid me in my plan. I need to know that you will help me. So much depends upon your loyalty to me, your father. Without your support I cannot continue in my campaign.”

 

“But how can we help?” asked Athothis. “We have no special powers.”

 

“You are wrong Athothis. The destiny of you and your brothers is connected to my own. You are no ordinary youths. You are the Unholy Quaternity. You do not know it yet but you hold a dark power to rival my own. Together we cannot lose.”

 

The brothers nodded. Anquat looked at the symbol on his father’s chest and then looked back at his own.

 

“This symbol has some relevance I suppose? We have never known its meaning.”

 

“It is my dark insignia, better known as the Menas-Rouge. You have it too. It is the very icon of our malevolence.”

 

“What must we do to aid you?” asked Abydos.

 

“Tonight we shall overthrow Osiris and his followers. However, it will not be easy. Osiris has a powerful ally. A certain mystical book.”

 

“Yes!” cried Abydos. “The Book of Creation, the source of all benevolent power. The most powerful force in the known Universe.”

 

“It is not simply a book. When its master is in jeopardy it comes to his aid in the form of a tremendously powerful sword, the Supernova. The power of this sword is incredibly potent and could destroy us. That is why it must be our priority to prevent the Book of Creation from coming to the aid of its owner. That is where you come in. The four of you must enter the northwest tower. There you must stop the Book from leaving its chamber at all costs.”

 

“But how do we stand a chance against such a power?” asked Arbchee.

 

“Remember that you are the Unholy Quaternity. Believe in your power. The combined force of the four of you should be enough to keep it at bay long enough for me to destroy the others.”

 

“But how do we call on these special powers?” asked Abydos. “Do we just imagine them to be there?”

 

Menas looked as if he had suddenly remembered something of great importance. He walked over to the other side of the room and then turned to face the four brothers again. The expression on his face was irresolute.

 

“Time passes quickly and we must begin before it is too late. I cannot keep the Book of Creation blinded to my presence for much longer. After I have anointed you all you must proceed with the plan we have discussed. Step forward now Abydos.”

 

Abydos walked towards his father with a confidence that seemed almost unreal. Menas unsheathed the Dark Destiny. The brothers could hardly hide their awe at seeing the hellish blade. Menas pointed the sword at the symbol on Abydos’s chest.

 

“Rise Abydos, Lord of Malice.”

 

Red light from the blade rushed towards Abydos, landing squarely on the Menas-Rouge. Abydos surged forward as if he had just been granted breath for the first time. His eyes gleamed bright red for a few seconds afterwards. Then he looked at the others. He was smiling cruelly. They could see that he knew exactly what he had to do.

 

“Your power is represented by the Maleficent Bull,” continued Menas. “This creature loves nothing more that to see others in pain and endless suffering. This is according to the old nether lore taught to me by Lord Tartarus of the Netherworld, one of my many allies in evil.”

 

“Thank you father,” said Abydos. “I will not fail you.”

 

“Excellent. Step forward Anquat.”

 

After the same routine Anquat rose, his eyes sparkling like perfect rubies.

 

“Anquat, Lord of Destruction, your power is represented by the Callous Crocodile. This cold-blooded monster sees to it that all things done in the name of purity and goodness are torn down and ripped into untraceable pieces.”

 

Anquat nodded and went to join Abydos by the door.

 

Athothis and Arbchee followed. After Athothis’s anointment Menas told him of his powers.

 

“Athothis, Lord of Deception, your power is represented by the Fallacious Vulture. This sadistic bird of prey follows its victims pretending to be their friend. But when their victims are at their most vulnerable it swoops down to devour their flesh.”

 

Finally Arbchee was informed of his powers to complete the initiation ceremony.

 

“Arbchee, Lord of Corruption, your power is represented by the Profligate Jackal. This dishonest canine makes it its business to see all good moral people turn into crooked, depraved wretches with nothing left to live for.”

 

Menas then turned to look at his four sons. They stood looking back at their father, determined and unstoppable.

 

“Do your duty to me,” said Menas. “The good that has plagued this fortress shall be obliterated. Never again shall the pure of heart breathe within these walls.”

 

“We hope to serve you well father,” answered Abydos, the others nodding also. “We will now go to the northwest tower and confront the Book of Creation.”

 

The brothers ran out of the chamber and down the adjacent corridor. Menas looked around. He broke into a smile that revealed a mixture of both pleasure and triumph. The White Citadel seemed oddly homely to his eyes even though he had been away for so long. Then the reality of the situation began to sink in. He was so close to finally achieving his ultimate goal.

 

“Beware all followers of the Supreme Lord of Light. Menas has returned for his revenge. And never fear for I shall not be leaving this time. Osiris, place your heart upon my blade. The Dark Destiny thirsts for your blood as do I. Tomorrow shall begin a new era for this realm. Good must beg for mercy at the feet of evil and evil must look down and crush them in their wretchedness. As I conquer the head of my enemies, so shall my sword remove it from its shoulders!”

 

Menas was back indeed. And this time it was personal.

 

Continued

 

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