Magic, Rhazdon's Way

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TLC 02/7

Magic, Rhazdon's Way Also, see Characters, Rhazdon

A small group stood in a circle on the top of Shiprock, a rocky outcropping over fifteen hundred feet high situated all by itself in the open desert of San Juan County, New Mexico. The ground was considered sacred by the local Navajo and never open to the general public, but there was nothing general about this gathering. It was a mixed lot of magical beings whose ancestors came from Oriceran thousands of years ago and stayed, mating with the local population of humans. Two were rogue witches who were briefly part of the Silver Griffins, a few more were half Light or Wood Elf but could pass for locals on Earth, and some were from the Crystal tribe, but without the magic from Oriceran had reverted from being covered in crystals to a more human appearance. Still, they preferred the coldest climates on Earth and the heat of New Mexico was making them surly. A few were even said to have Atlantean blood in them from the only magical tribe that originated on Earth. They never tired of pointing that out. They came from different parts of the globe to pool the recesses of the magic they had stored in different relics and artifacts. Even though they were all very different, they had one thing in common. They believed in the rise of Rhazdon and that his magic would unite the magical community again. And this time, they would win.

They were gathered on the top of a large kemana, holding hands around every artifact they had saved in their closets and attics, pulling them out of old boxes and drawers, waiting for a day like this. The vibrations from the explosion in Chicago were felt as far away as Missouri and every magical being inside of the radius took note. Most brushed it off and went on about their day. These things happened and the Silver Griffins would get to the bottom of it. There was a proper and orderly system. Best to not get involved. But there were others who had met in secret for generations who longed for a different ending. A rebirth of Rhazdon’s movement and the purity of magic and the right beings to follow his teachings.

Recently, rumors were flying around their circles at dinner tables and card games and standing by the soccer fields at children’s games, that there was a new high priest rising up to take Rhazdon’s place. He believed everything Rhazdon had taught and even was said to have skill at dark magic. A twisted hope sprang up, weaving itself through groups spread out over the Earth, bringing them together in ever closer circles. Then the explosion happened and those closest to it knew it was all true. An artifact from Oriceran that carried great powers, both light and dark, was brought to Chicago. The most powerful kind of artifact that could be used for something magnificent and dangerous. They wanted to open a gate, between the two worlds centuries early. It would stay open, but be hidden from everyone but their own kind, those who believed in the teachings of Rhazdon.This time it would be possible to find their new leader, this high priest, and join forces. A new darkness would begin and this time, on both worlds.

They joined hands around the pile of artifacts and relics that were purposefully arranged so that the energy would continue to combine and connect outward toward the circle. Each hand grasped the one next to it, and the energy began to flow faster around the circle, building in intensity, flooding the members of the new cult. Their faces glowed, first pale gold, building to a dark royal purple. A feeling of bliss came over them, a few even giggled, unable to contain themselves. But everyone held even tighter, determined not to break the ring of energy. Slowly, small embers appeared around the pile, racing around it in the sand. A blue light expanded upward, throwing off a hot wind powerful enough to knock someone off the rock formation if they got too close. The heat intensified as the artifacts and relics were picked up by the wind, swirling into the blue haze, melting into pure energy. Rivulets of glowing, metallic blue liquid flowed out toward each member of the circle, seeking them out. A young half elf cried out, trying to pull her hands away and run but the others held on tighter. The energy seeped into their feet, crawling through their veins and settling into their bones. A vision appeared in each of their minds. The same vision.

“The necklace is in Chicago,” said the young elf, wonder in her voice. She could feel the surge of power. The blue fire subsided, gradually disappearing back into the ground. The artifacts and relics were gone and in their place the rock beneath their feet was cold to the touch, scattered with small crystals littering the ground. Everyone in the circle let go at the same moment and went to fill their pockets with the crystals. Small pieces of energy they could use later that worked like an energy balm. The user only needed to be magical and hold it tightly in their hands for a burst of temporary energy, enough to pull off one good spell.

“We should get going,” said an older male Light Elf. His face was aglow with a blue inner light, much like everyone else. A younger Light Elf stared at him in wonder. “The glow wears off in a few hours,” he said. “The energy will too after a few days. There isn’t a lot of time. We’ll need to gather together again and hit the road.” “Not everyone,” said a half-Crystal man. “We should ring the city with followers. That way if the Order manages to escape with the necklace, there will be others waiting to stop them. Besides, it will be easier for us to slip through unnoticed by the humans if we don’t march in there like a brigade.” “Then we have a plan.” “And a mission.” The Light Elf’s eyes glowed blue and he smiled as he looked out over the dark vista.