Origin of Evil

By Sinistral

 

 

Epilogue

 

 

So Menas had finally lost his battle against the forces of good. He would never again be in a position to usurp the power of the Spirit World and destroy the one thing that always kept him from victory – the Book of Creation. His second defeat within the halls of the White Citadel marked the beginning of a new era, a time in which the Spirit World would see many years of peace and harmony. But the atmosphere was far from festive. Ever since the deaths of the original gods of the Spirit World, the White Citadel had become an extremely quiet and solemn place. The days of laughter and mirth seemed but a distant memory. The new King and Queen, Horus and Iras, were not at all prepared for their roles. In fact, the very thought of their ascension to the throne upset them terribly as it reminded them of why they were there. They were alone, if not for their daughters and the ubiquitous Book of Creation.

 

However, as time went by all notions of evil and hatred seemed to drift away. Painful memories of past events were discarded and Horus seemed to be making a genuine effort to move on from the apocalyptic tragedy of Menas’s failed offensive, towards a future that appeared to be bright and hopeful. But all the while the Book of Creation watched over the royal couple, noting their reluctance to remember the lessons of old, in case the mere action stirred up recollections of horror and anguish. The Book especially observed Horus’s attempts to steer clear of the subject of the prophecy to which his daughters were bound.

 

Several years after the defeat of Menas, the Book of Creation was surprised to find the young King within its chamber. Horus had entered the northwest tower chamber once again after many months. He had a troubled look on his face that revealed his urgency to speak of a subject that he had tried to suppress for a long time. The Book knew of what Horus was fighting within his mind, but preferred to let the King approach its podium with the question, rather than ask. It was true that Horus did have a pressing subject on his mind, one that failed to dislodge itself from the cranial caverns in which it lived. The subject in question was the prophecy surrounding his four daughters. He had tried his best to ignore the topic but could no longer hide himself away from a situation that was inevitable despite his best attempts to tell himself that it was not true. After all, he had never been totally accepting of the revelation that his daughters were the legendary Sacred Four on whom the future of the Earth would depend after its abandonment by those who had sworn to protect it.

 

The words of the prophecy still haunted his steps:

 

When the people of the Earth turn to evil, the Ancient Spirits of Goodness shall come to rescue the planet in its time of great need. To prevent the Ancient Spirits of Goodness from achieving their goal, the Ancient Spirits of Evil will do all that is in their power to harbour the evil already rampant among the Earth. So shall begin the great battle of the spirits. The battle will wage until galactic pandemonium shall bring all to a close.

 

The Book awaited Horus in complete, meditative silence. Horus looked at the mystic book with a casual awe and suddenly broke into a horrible glare. He was not angry at the Book itself, but rather the words of the prophecy. According to the prophecy, he noted, the people of Earth would eventually turn to evil.

 

“Wretched mortals!” he cried out loud. “Why can they not learn to live in peace. They are so easily tempted by the forces of darkness.”

 

“It is by design,” answered the Book, who had waited to reply. “This will not come to pass for at least another fifteen thousand years. That is very long time into the future. Thousands of generations of men will have lived and died. Old laws and morals from the dawn of time will slowly decay, as individual greed shall consume the minds of the people. This is a process that happens to all worlds, given time. And as I said, it shall not come to pass for a very long time.”

 

“But what will the people of Earth do that will merit the divine intervention of my daughters? Surely it will be significant.”

 

“I do not know what will actually happen. I only know that it will happen ultimately. And the event shall be the most significant in the entire history of the Earth. Many foul atrocities will have been committed between this time and then. But nothing will ever equal that final incident. It shall be a danger that threatens the very life of the planet.”

 

“And so the Ancient Spirits of Goodness, my daughters, shall come to the rescue of the planet,” finished Horus. “But all this time we have to wait until that event happens. I cannot stand such passiveness. Menas will be plotting and scheming away all the while. I hate him! Why could he not have been destroyed?”

 

“I do not think that it is Menas that we should be concerned about anymore,” noted the Book. “He can no longer harm us here in the Spirit World. You must remember that Menas has no part to play in this ‘battle of the spirits’ prophecy. And neither do you.”

 

“What?” exclaimed Horus. “How so?”

 

“The prophecy involves your daughters and it is their sacred responsibility alone. They must enter the nexus of events connected to prophecy at the appointed time. You are no longer of any importance as far as this is concerned. Your days of fighting evil have passed. Your daughters must be ready to battle against the Ancient Spirits of Evil. And when the time is right, they will know what to do. I will instruct them myself.”

 

Horus was baffled by the Book’s rather final disclosure. He found it difficult to believe that his influence was redundant. However, he would never again question the Book’s wisdom like he had foolishly done before. Then and there he accepted what the Book had told him without further hesitation.

 

“Go now Horus,” commanded the Book. “You and Iras must still rule this kingdom, even while your daughters are questing against the malicious forces of the darkest depths. The final words of the prophecy speak of ‘galactic pandemonium’. It is unclear as to whether this part of the prophecy only involves your daughters. But if you are needed in a future time of great need Horus, then I shall inform you of all. I now await the Sacred Four.”

 

Horus nodded and walked out the tower room, his feelings an odd mixture of sorrow and relief. The Book rested upon its pedestal, waiting until the time came for the Scared Four to embark upon their mission against the Unholy Quaternity, and the salvation of the Earth.

 

 

 

 

As the situation in the Spirit World remained relatively passive, events in the Demon Realm were surprisingly similar. The Unholy Quaternity spent their time learning more about themselves and their purpose. They had spoken with Emalgar, who was more than happy to explain their destiny to them. The old witch was well aware of the famous ‘battle of the spirits’ prophecy. She knew all about the conflict between the Ancient Spirits of Good and Evil. But there was something that she knew that the Book of Creation did not know. The battle of the spirits was to be a metaphorical one. In other words, the battle would take place between representatives of the Spirits.

 

“What exactly do you mean, representatives?” asked Anquat.

 

“I mean that there will be one of the Earth who will carry out your orders, an eternal slave,” replied Emalgar.

 

“A mortal?” said Athothis.

 

“You will find this certain person well before he is needed.”

 

“Who is he?” asked Abydos. “Where is he now?”

 

“All I know is that he will be born under the reign of Pharaoh Seti I. That is far into the future, ten thousand years to be approximate. Seti is an extremely distant descendant of Pharaoh Armon I, your one time uncle.”

 

“So all we can do is wait?” asked Arbchee.

 

“Your enemies in the Spirit World are aware of the ‘battle of the spirits’ prophecy as well,” warned Emalgar. “The Book of Creation will look for ways to prevent us from succeeding. We must be constantly ready to anticipate their every move.”

 

“Have they done anything as yet?” enquired Athothis.

 

“The Book of Creation has revealed the identity of your arch enemies the Sacred Four. They are the four daughters of your cousin King Horus no less.”

 

“So it is to be kept in the family,” laughed Abydos. “Very well. We will be prepared and when the time comes we will stop all who attempt to hinder our destiny. Thank you for your time Emalgar. It has been most beneficial.”

 

The old soothsayer’s image vanished from the waters of the cauldron. The room in which it stood had changed dramatically. In fact, the entire castle had. It was larger and considerably more garish. Down were the mouldy draperies of Rosencrantz’s days and up were tapestries, flags and pictures depicting battles between Menas and Osiris and their other adventures, not to mention the monumental failure they were so ashamed of. The Menas-Rouge, with its intertwined double-headed snake design, dominated the décor. It was their eternal symbol of evil and they were proud of it. The castle had been renamed Satanicca, a much more sinister sounding name and one which evoked almost as much terror as the dreaded Deathanox itself.

 

The waters of the cauldron began to move again and this time the stern face of Emalgar’s son, Ghirofelgo, appeared within its waters. Abydos and Anquat stared at the young behemoth with mild curiosity. It was unusual for them to be addressing him rather than his mother, although the four brothers were familiar with Lord Tartarus’s extended family by that time.

 

“I have something for you,” began Ghirofelgo. “This will help you when facing the forces of goodness in the years to come.”

 

Suddenly a strange mist appeared above the waters of the cauldron and a large black book appeared. The book then slowly drifted towards the four brothers. Abydos studied the book. It was certainly different to the Book of Creation.

 

“What is this?” asked Anquat. “Is it a spell book?”

 

“That is a copy of the Norbag-Nargé,” stated Ghirofelgo. “Some call it the ‘Anti-Book of Creation’. My uncle, Lord Tartarus, created this copy for you to use as you please. With this book you will be able to master the malevolent powers of nether lore, summon behemoths and cast deadly curses. If you are to overthrow the Sacred Four then you will need this, to add to your own powers.”

 

“We do thank Lord Tartarus,” said Abydos, as Ghirofelgo vanished from sight.

 

Anquat picked up the Norbag-Nargé and began to casually leaf through its pages.

 

“With this we will be truly unstoppable,” he said. “I am only upset that we have to wait another ten thousand years to act upon the words of the prophecy. What do we do in the meantime?”   

 

“We master our powers of course,” said Abydos. “All the while we wait for this prophesied servant of ours to be born and be ready to seize the main chance. Horus cannot be allowed to win again. We will show him the full power of the Unholy Quaternity when we make history of his precious daughters. Just let them come against us. Their puny representative will be no match for Mumm-Ra the Ever Living.”

 

“Mumm-Ra?” said Arbchee.

 

“Yes my brothers, Mumm-Ra. In the nether tongue Mumm means mortal and Ra means fury. I have decided that our representative shall be known as Mumm-Ra as he will be of mortal origin; yet possess all the fury of the spirits. Mumm-Ra the Ever Living shall be the immortal warrior that will crush any attempts to bring peace and unity to the world of men. His name shall be feared across the Universe.”

 

“Then it is a new beginning,” added Athothis.

 

“Yes. To make ourselves all the more determined we should discard the title ‘Unholy Quaternity’ and use our new designation, the ‘Ancient Spirits of Evil’. We are no longer the Unholy Quaternity, who were defeated by Horus in the White Citadel. We are the Ancient Spirits of Evil who trampled over the bodies of our enemies and ground them into the dust.”

 

And so it was to be. Over the following twenty thousand years the wrath of the notorious Ancient Spirits of Evil would chill the very souls of even the foulest creatures.

 

 

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