[Mkguild] MK story - part 12 - the finale

[Christian Okane]

Here is part 12 - the last part of the story! I hope you are enjoying it!
Chris
The Lurking Fox


***************


   When the group returned all of them were quiet and Carlisle looked
visibly shaken.

   "What's wrong?" his wife asked.

   "We saw Doron wolves," Carlisle said slowly.

   "A real Doron wolf?" Gina said. Her face  alive with excitement.

   "An entire pack," Father Marchel said in a whisper, his eyes wide with
amazement. "At least ten. They escorted us all the way from the woods to the
city gates."

   "They came to the city gates?" The Cardinal asked, surprised.

   Marchel gave a short, sharp nod of the head in reply. "The entire city is
in an uproar."

   "They've never come to the city before," Gina said in awe. "They've never
left the woods."

   "They left the woods and followed us home," Carlisle said in a cold tone.

   "What does this mean?" The high priestess asked, unnerved by the reaction
of the mages. She had never heard of Doron wolves but anything that upset a
mage as powerful as Demarest was something to be worried about.

   The woman shook her head. "I don't know. I spent two years studying the
wolves and saw only four."

   "It means they are worried about this project," someone said.

   "No, if they had wished to stop us using the Culua they would have
attacked us," Carlisle said. "And simply taken it."

   "Why is nothing involving the Guild ever easy?" The cardinal snapped.

   "I have been asking that question myself for years!" The guild master
commented.


**********************


   A few hours later a large group was again in the meeting room. Everyone
was silent as the religious leaders slowly filed into the room. The only
changes from the last time they had been there was a small table erected in
front of the one holding the metal body of Salona. On the new table was a
cloth covered bundle.

   "Thank you all for coming," Guild Master Demarest said. "Our expedition
to retrieve the Culua was successful." He pointed to the cloth covered
object. "It rests before you still in its protective covering."

   "Was there any trouble?" The cardinal asked.

   "Unexpected incidents but not trouble," was the masters reply.

   "An entire pack of Doron wolves followed you back to the city?" Arstein
asked.

   "It did," Demarest answered in clipped tones. "But that was not part of
the escort I arranged. They came on their own."

   "Did they attack you?" High Priestess Delminie asked in a cold voice.

   "No, they just followed us. Never interfered in any way," the mage
responded.

   "Why were they there?" The cardinal asked. "Protection?"

   "Our best estimate at this time," Demarest said slowly and deliberately.
"Is that they sensed the power of the Culua and were protecting it."

   "That makes sense," Harson commented.

   "What of the history of the item?" Marchel questioned. "Where was it
before being brought here?"

   "We believe the culua was already in the possession of Nevittia
Aprontinia, one of the five founders of the guild in the year 151," Carlisle
explained. "And passed into guild hands at the time of his death. In the
year 405 several people studying the culua were nearly killed and it was
decided to move it to the vault."

   "So the item sat in the vault since that time?" Arstein asked. "All alone
and untouched?"

   "Yes," Demarest answered. "It was too dangerous to be touched or even
approached."

   "So Salona was alone all that time." The Rebuilder priest looked at the
Culua. "What must it have been like being trapped in there. All alone for so
long."

   "I can think of no punishment harsher," the cardinal said. "Then to be
trapped alone."

   "Unwrap this Culua," the Lightbringer priestess pointed to the bundle of
cloth. "And let us see this soul container."

   Demarest looked to where Joeline was standing off to one side. He nodded
his head and the young woman stepped forward. She walked up to the cloth
bundle and touched it on the top. The cloth fell away revealing the
beautiful metal heart.

   The audience instinctively moved closer to the item for a better look.

   "Not too close!" Misha ordered. "The wards on it are still active." From
a pocket on his vest the fox took a small bottle and a paintbrush. "Put out
your right hand please."

   "Why?" Marchel asked suspiciously.

   "The wards protecting the Culua are extremely deadly," Misha explained.
"I am going to give you permission to touch it without being instantly
killed."

   "And do you have such symbols on your hand?" The rabbi asked.

   "Yes," Misha answered. "They're tattooed on but the fur covers them.
Along with several others that I am not sharing with you." With fast, deft
and precise strokes Misha painted a series of complex symbols on the back of
the man's hand.

   The Lightbringer Priestess stepped forward and extended her hand.
Suddenly a bolt of bright blue light shot out of the culua catching Delminie
dead square in the chest and sending her tumbling to the floor.

   Misha let out a loud curse and raced over to where the woman lay on the
floor. Delminie slowly and unsteadily sat up. A crowd quickly gathered
around her.

   "Hold still!" Misha ordered. "You were really hit hard!"

   "What happened to her?" Azaelle asked in nervous tones.

   "The wards on Salona have never reacted this violently," Carlisle said.
"Never."

   "Salona doesn't like you," Madog said in a surprisingly serious tone.
Then he turned and started to walk away.

   Misha grabbed the metal fox by the tail and pulled him back. "No you
don't. Explain what you mean by that."

   "No." Madog dropped his head and tucked in his tail.

   "Madog," Misha ordered in the cold, crisp tones of command. "Explain. She
was almost killed."

   "Salona not like her," Madog answered. "Salona not like ANY Pintia
priest."

   "That's understandable," one of the Rebuilder priests said. "After all
we've spent the last two months talking about destroying her body and
sending her to heaven or hell."

   "They smash, rend and destroy everything. Others build. They destroy,"
Madog snapped with surprising anger.

   "Same argument, different people," Valarie Delminie said calmly. The
woman seemed a little unnerved but unhurt by the recent attack."They used
the same arguments eight centuries ago when the emperor Crepereius declared
all Automata abominations."

   "This is an old argument," the Cardinal commented. "Dating back to when
the first automatons were created."

   "They kill my friends," Madog snarled. "They purge. Cleanse. Burn."

   "Like the Burning," the Cardinal said in a pained tone.

   Harson winced noticeably. "The Centli invasion, the Suielman invasion,
the Elf war, the lutin invasion and finally the Burning. Why is so much of
Marigund history filled with killing and burning."

   "All of history is filled with it," Misha commented. "Not all of it
caused by religion."

   "Much of it was," Cassandra countered from her seat.

   "Indeed," Arstein said slowly. "What we don't understand we try to
destroy."

   Delminie slowly stood up and gently touched the blacked scorch mark on
her blouse. It was right over her heart. Then she looked up at the item that
had caused it. "This seemed so clear and simple before. Now it's complex."

   "Everything in life is complex," the cardinal commented. "It is not any
man's place to decide what to do with a soul, or to even have power over
another soul like this. No person has that right."

   "We cannot punish those responsible for creating this," one of the
Rebuilders added. "The dead are beyond us. We are left cleaning up the mess
they made."

   "We cannot allow this soul to remain trapped, cut off from the rest of
creation," the cardinal announced.

   "But also we do not have the right to destroy the culua. Our task is to
help souls along to heaven," Harson added. "Not send them there personally.
There has been too much death and destruction already."

   "Our task is to guide souls along the right path and to help the lost
souls of this world. And is there more lost a soul then hers?" Valarie
pointed to where the culua was resting.

   Only silence greeted her in way of answer.

   The four religious leaders looked at each other. No words were needed.
They all already understood the question. All the arguments and debates came
down to this moment.

   The cardinal nodded his head ever so gently. Rabbi Arstein, Father Harson
and High priestess Delminie all nodded in agreement.

   "If we allow this culua to be reunited with the body," Harson started
slowly without taking his eyes off the culua. "We will closely monitor and
guide her."

   "When will you be ready?" the rabbi asked calmly.

   Misha shrugged. "I'm not sure. This must be planned carefully. We cannot
take any shortcuts."

   "When we are ready," Carlisle added. "All of you will be contacted."


*********************


   They were not contacted for three weeks. When it did finally arrive the
message was brief and blunt. "Be at the Guild hall tomorrow by 4:55am.
Expect to be occupied for the entire day and out of contact. Tell no one
what you are doing or where you are going."

   There are quiet times, times when even a city the size of Marigund
sleeps. The complex clock in one of the towers of the Menomenta Gul that
ticked away the hours had just finished chiming four am. The streets of
Marigund was quiet at this hour. The drunks and revelers of the night before
had all found some place to sleep and it was far too early for even the
workers who greeted the dawn each day. The only thing moving about were a
trio of heavily cloaked figures who made their way down the street. The
group had come by a circuitous route that now took them to one of the
countless small doors leading into the Mages Guild's headquarters. The high
priestess hated such covert maneuvers dismissing them as unnecessary
theatrics but in this case she understood the need for them. Some things are
best left secret. High priestess Delminie knocked twice on the wooden door.

   The door opened, revealing a man dressed in full armor. One hand he used
to hold open the door, the other held a drawn sword. The soldier nodded and
sheathed the blade. Without a word he gestured the new arrivals inside. When
the door was closed behind them a light blossomed revealing the small room
they were standing in.

   "Welcome High priestess Delminie," the soldier said. "Please come this
way. You're expected."


   **************


   They were taken through a maze of corridors and hallways and finally up a
long flight of stairs that ended in a door sheathed in metal. Once through
that door they found themselves in front of another door and behind that was
yet another door. The group passed through that door and Delminie found
herself in a room far different than she had been before. This room was
twenty feet by twenty feet and only bare stone. In the center of the room
was a table made of steel upon which rested the automaton called Salona. The
dozen wooden chairs arraigned around the table were filled with people, all
of whom Delminie recognized from the last time she had seen the automaton.

   Clustered around the table was Guild Master Demarest, Carlisle and
several other members of the Guilds Automata department. With them was Misha
and the otter woman Caroline. Perched on the end of the table was Madog. The
metal fox was surprisingly quiet and still paying no heed to the new
arrivals. His eyes never strayed from the still form of Salona.

   Standing off to one side were three people. A woman of middle age with
slightly graying hair down to her shoulders. The deep burgundy dress she was
wearing had only one decoration, the tightly interlocked rings that were the
Mages Guild emblem done in gold.

   Standing next to the woman was an elderly gentleman who held the hand of
a woman equal to him in age. The older couple was unknown to her. By the
look and bearing they were people of some wealth and determination.

   Delminie pointed to the three. "Who are they? The younger woman I
recognize as a guild mage."

   Torrey peered at the two for a moment. "That is Lady Elizabeth Lumas and
Lord  and Lady Brightleaf. Misha's sister and parents.

   "Misha's parents?" Delminie asked, surprised.

   "Yes," Torrey responded in a confused tone.  "It never occurred to you he
might have family?"

   "I did not know he was from Marigund itself," the high priestess
explained.

   "An old family," the priest added. "They are big merchants in the sheep
and wool trade. The rumors have it that Misha's great grandfather discovered
a fabulous treasure up in the Giantdowns and came back to Marigund to live."

   Delminie shook her head. "I've heard THAT tale said about all the big
families at one time or another."

   The priest shrugged. "What I do know is that he brought that massive,
black axe back with him. And it's been in the family since then."

   Carlisle walked up to the table and took a deep breath. "Thank you for
coming. I cannot over emphasize just how deadly what we are attempting is.
We're about to attempt what has not been done in over a thousand years. If
events go wrong the damage should be limited to the top, four floors of the
tower." The mage turned to Misha. "Are you ready?"

   "Yes," the fox man said as he walked to stand with Carlisle. He looked at
the assembled mages clustered around the table. "We've discussed and planned
this. But there is no way to tell how this will go. Endure it as long as
possible but when you feel yourself slipping break the connection and back
away."

   Carlisle turned to the assembled audience. "Do not approach us once we've
begun. We are working with very deadly magic."

   The mages clustered close around the table until Salona was no longer
visible. After a moment Marchel became aware of a feeling in the air as if
it was charged electricity. He was reminded of how it felt during a
lightning storm when the very air was filled with the power of the storm. He
felt the hairs on his arm standing on end. A soft glow suddenly covered
Misha's body and quickly spread to all of the mages.

   The room was as silent as a tomb while the mages worked on the feline.
The hours passed slowly and no one was sure what time it was. To Marchel the
beating of his own heart was like a loud drum booming across a mountain
side. Could everyone hear it? Were they hearing it and just ignoring it out
of politeness? Some people sat still, while others got up and walked around.
One took out a bag and started quietly eating an apple.

   Through it all Madog stood as still as a statue. Watching over the
process like the gargoyles that glowered down from above the Gargoyle gate
leading into the city.

   Suddenly Joeline let out a cry, staggered backwards and collapsed to the
floor. A dozen people rushed over but Caroline got to the woman first.
Second to the prostrate woman was the healer. They stretched the woman out
carefully and began to examine her with the skilled movements of a
professional healer.

   "What's wrong with her?" The cardinal asked keeping his distance and
allowing the healer to use her skills.

   "Exhaustion," Caroline responded instantly. "Working the magic is very
tiring."

   "Are you a mage as well?" The rabbi asked.

   "No, but I've seen Misha work it enough to know what happens."

   "How long will this take?" Marchel asked.

   Caroline shrugged. "No way to know but  probably all day at the least."

   The hours seemed to drag by, each second taking a lifetime. One by one
the other mages began to drop out. Some collapsing to the floor where they
stood and some managing a few steps backwards first. Finally only Carlisle
and Misha remained still intently working.

   The glow around them and the table grew in intensity until Marchel had to
squint. Then suddenly the glow vanished like a candle being snuffed out. It
took a moment to get used to the darkness after the bright light. The priest
could see Misha and Carlisle both sprawled on the floor.

   Caroline reached Misha in moments and with surprising strength lifted her
lover off the floor and gently placed him in a chair. "Misha!" She cried.

   Misha looked up at Caroline and weakly wagged his tail. She hugged him
tightly and tenderly kissed him. Next to the otter and the fox Gina was
tendering to her husband. Carlisle looked to be in no better shape the
Misha.

   "Are they all right?" One of the Rebuilders asked.

   "We'll be fine," Carlisle answered. "Just exhausted."

   Misha gave a weak wave of his hand. "It was far harder than I expected."

   The cardinal smiled. "I am glad you both survived. Did you succeed?"

   "Yes," both mage and fox answered in unison.

   All eyes turned to Salona. The metal feline was resting in the same place
as before but to Marchel she seemed different. Before it had always looked
like an inanimate metal statue devoid of life. But now she felt alive. He
peered carefully at her trying to explain why she was different. His eyes
saw no change but in his heart and mind he felt a difference.

   To Marchel it seemed like forever as the sabertooth just lay there
unmoving. The room was utterly silent. No one moved or spoke; waiting for
any sign from Salona. None of them was sure what she would do. Would she
attack them all instantly? Perhaps she would try and flee? Perhaps she'd do
nothing at all. What happens to a soul left alone for over 600 years?

   Click! The sound was soft and slightly muffled like it was coming from
deep within the automaton.

   Slowly the left ear spun about lazily. Then the right ear moved. The two
ears flicked about for a moment. The eyes fluttered and then opened wide.
Then the massive, metal cat stood up. Her mouth opened wide in a yawn
revealing a set of impressively large, sharp teeth. She stretched each of
her legs slowly and deliberately. Marchel was reminded of Sprinkles, his own
house cat.

   "Does she know we're here?" Joeline asked nervously.

   The massive, metal head snapped around in the girl's direction and those
metal eyes widened with surprise.

   "She does now," Misha muttered as his hands tightened their grip on his
axe. "No one move."

   "She's undoubtedly very confused," Carlisle said speaking softly.

   Slowly the metal Smilodon looked at each of the people in the room. Her
head moving and her eyes missing not the smallest detail of each one.

   "Irtul fuw shun tulano," the feline said in a deep, growling voice.

   "Anyone speak old Suiel?" Misha asked slowly.


The End



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