11:25pm
Xander sat on the edge of a bed in one of the hotel rooms they had been provided. The two rooms were directly adjacent, and the connecting door between them was wide open. From the open door, you could hear the running shower that Chauncey currently occupied, despite it not being his. Each room had two beds, he and Filza would naturally share one as husband and wife, and Chauncey was to occupy the other. Quayyum and Radiya shared the other room. The reasoning was simply that the Arabs, between their shared traditionalism and his advanced age, wouldn't do anything untoward towards each other. Quayyum knew better than to try that with Radiya. Chauncey didn't, and the last thing they needed was for him to end up dead. He debated having Radiya stay in with him instead, but the constant bickering that would result from having Quayyum and Chauncey in the same room was enough to dissuade that possibility. As for himself, he absolutely would not share a room with Quayyum, so this was the best possible outcome all things considered. That said, if this job lasted any longer than a week, a third room would be bought as a necessity. He'd go insane otherwise.
Outside the room was an insidious enchanted fog. They had yet to test the fog to discern its effects, but protecting themselves was their first priority. The room had been all-but sealed through herbal magecraft and wards, effectively dispelling any fog that threatened to enter, but equally effectively trapping them inside. There was no doubt this was related to the mission, but for the moment they were trapped.
Filza sat at the foot of the bed to his right, a pile of books around her, studying the circle Quayyum was currently drawing in chalk before returning to cross-reference her large library of tomes. Radiya stood adjacent to the old mage, watching him draw with falcon eyes. As for the circle, it was something Xander was familiar with, as was anybody who often worked with the Alghuls. Using their Necromancy, they had devised a method of parcel-transport involving advanced spirit evocation. They imbued a spirit into an object, usually a package, making sure to tether the two firmly. Then a second mage would draw a circle that would summon the spirit to their location, bringing the package along with it. Finally, the tertiary aspects of the circle would sever the spirit's tether to the material plane, effectively exorcizing them. This could only be done if the spirit involved was properly analyzed and its origin effectively translated into the circle. It was a complicated, multi-stage process, but, to the credit of the Alghuls, not one that had failed due to anything other than user error. Quayyum, being the most familiar with this process, had volunteered to draw it.
The exact circle had been sent to him via email, likely forwarded through several different accounts, and contained only the sketch of the circle, nothing more, not even a subject. While this level of secrecy wasn't uncommon for the Alghuls, the method spoke for itself. When doing jobs in cities and urban areas, the Alghuls usually relied on magical communication as it kept their issues hidden from the public, and ensured there were no incriminating messages should he be arrested or something similar. They only communicated electronically when other mages were involved. Mages were conservative by nature, and tended to be quite useless with modern technology, and as electronic communication was so new, there were no well-known magical means of interference. Whatever was going on, Aisha had decided that magical communication couldn't be trusted. The reason for this was likely related to why they weren't meeting her in person despite being in the same area.
From the other room, the water turned off.
Quayyum was adding the final touches to the circle; retracing the circle to increase its strength and to ensure no mistakes had been made.
Chauncey appeared in the doorway wearing nothing but a white bathrobe; his dog behind him as it always was, making no noise despite its claws. Xander expected some form of frustration from the group but none came except in the forms of furrowed brows. They expected nothing less from the flamboyant Frenchman.
"Is it almost done? We've been stuck in this damned hotel for hours."
It was Filza who responded, "Almost. We're adding the final touches now."
"Ah! Fantastic."
He sat himself down next to Xander, his dog jumping up and lying down next to him. "I'm so excited to see this for myself. The advanced necromantic techniques of the elusive and infamous Alghul family; what a sight!"
"Yeah," Xander replied, doing his best to hide his frustration from the man, "You should be thankful, only those trusted by the family get to see this."
"Hm. Thankful, eh? Sounds like I should be worried. As if they intend their secrets to die with me."
"Don't be an idiot. The Alghuls are as cold-blooded as any mage family, but all that means is that they protect their assets. If you're an asset, they'll protect you as fiercely as any of their secrets."
"We both know that's not true. If anything-"
"Done." Quayyum stood up.
Thankful for an end to his conversation, Xander turned all his attention to Samman, "Are we ready for the final step?"
"I am ready for the final step, yes."
"Now-" Chauncey interjected, "You all explained this process earlier, and I trust you know what you're doing, I do. But should we expect any kind of feedback? I can't imagine a ritual of this nature and scale wouldn't have some drawbacks."
"Well-"
"-That depends on the object." Quayyum interrupted, "Denser objects require stronger spirits. They'll be exorcized in the end so it hardly matters, but there have been minor instances of paranormal activity in the meantime."
"Oho. Sounds like fun."
A devilish grin sat on Chauncey's face as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
From the back, Filza spoke, "If that's the case, should I lay some salt? I've got plenty of herbs for dissuading hostile spirits, and I brought extra- you know, considering our employer."
Before Xander could respond, Quayyum interrupted once more, "That won't be necessary. You'll be better off saving your materials for the job itself."
Xander finally spoke, feeling frustrated that he wasn't being allowed to answer as either her husband or the team's leader, "He's right, honey. It's a good idea, but we should save that for when we're in real danger."
She nodded, and the room turned back to Quayyum.
"Very well. Let's begin. Step back, assassin."
He never referred to anyone but Aisha by name, instead preferring to use pretentious nicknames.
Radiya moved back, standing now at the foot of the bed, in front of and adjacent to Filza as Quayyum sat cross-legged in front of the drawn circle, "Is everybody ready?"
"Get on with it old man!" Chauncey jeered.
Quayyum grimaced, but returned his focus to the circle without a word edgewise. He closed his eyes and placed his hands in his lap palms-up. He took a deep breath and began to recite mystic rites in an ancient Persian dialect, the language of choice for the Alghul mages. He couldn't understand the language himself, only bits and pieces, but that was the least of his worries.
As Quayyum recited his memorized evocation, the lights within the room began to dim and flicker erratically. This wasn't uncommon in the process, and, seeing the rising distress in his wife, Xander raised his hand to calm her, to say 'this is fine'. She was visibly calmer, but this only lasted so long. The air began to chill, and wind began to blow from nowhere. This wasn't unusual either, but...
Was it stronger than normal?
The light-bulbs across the room suddenly burst. Filza screamed and Chauncey bent over and covered his head instinctively. His dog began barking- the bark was odd and had a strange echo to it, like none he'd heard before. Xander and Radiya both began searching the room with concern; this was not normal.
The air blew harder and harder, such that Xander and Radiya both covered their faces. Quayyum, to his credit, never faltered, only continuing to recite the ritual.
Tables and objects across the room began to shake. Books, pens, and other small objects seemed to jet across the room as if thrown. One book in particular struck Filza across the head. Xander jumped on top of her as she collapsed to the floor, bending over and shielding her body with his. This continued for several moments before suddenly ceasing with a strange ethereal screech that resonated within the very soul.
Xander rose slightly and examined his wife. Filza was conscious, and was fine by all means except for a small bruised wound on her temple, now bleeding.
She caught her breath, "I'm okay. I'm okay."
"Are you sure?" He reached out his hand.
She took it and allowed him to pull her to an upright sitting position, "Of course. You know I've had worse."
"I do." He ran his hand through her white hair, his sad eyes meeting hers for a quiet moment. Finally, he gave her a peck on the cheek and rose to his feet, looking back at where Quayyum was .
Atop the circle was a large package, perhaps a two-foot cube. It wasn't difficult to figure out what had happened. This method usually delivered envelopes or small objects of note. A package this large, assuming it was filled more-or-less to capacity, would demand a powerful spirit. Some warning would've been nice, but it was too late now.
"Radiya."
"Yes?"
"Watch the hallway. Be sure no one approaches the room for any reason."
"What are my methods?"
"Subtle and forgettable."
"Understood." She walked to the adjacent room and disappeared out of sight.
"Get yourself bandaged, Filza."
"No, I should examine the package."
"If someone comes in and sees you like that, it'll implicate all of us. The package will be here when you get back."
She nodded sadly and walked off to the bathroom.
"Chauncey, get us some light."
"No, no, no! What the hell was that!?"
"LIGHT, Chauncey. Now."
He grunted stubbornly and looked to the dog, "Get us some glow, Cheval."
Ethereal flames suddenly appeared throughout the room, as if burning within invisible lanterns. It wasn't as good as the lamps or overhead lights, but they were at least better than complete darkness. Still on the floor, Quayyum was fiddling with the box, trying to open it and yet to succeed.
"Step back, Samman."
"Excuse me?"
"Step back. If you aren't the one this package isn't meant for you, you know what'll happen."
"Why wouldn't it be meant for me?"
"Why would it? Are you the team leader? How about we play it safe, huh?"
Quayyum snarled like a house cat and slunk back to give Xander space with the box. It opened with ease.
The box was filled with bound parchment, scrolls. He recognized the type. These scrolls were made from skin -hopefully not human, not that he knew for certain- and enchanted with necromantic magic. If anyone other than the intended party attempted to open the scrolls, they would be assaulted with hostile necromancy and the scroll would incinerate itself.
Reaching in, he unbound each scroll one by one and without issue so that they could be viewed safely by everyone. Making his way through, most seemed to be documents of various kinds and in various languages, most notably Saudi, Hindi, Turkish, Hebrew, and Persian. This wasn't uncommon. The Alghuls rarely used English in their sensitive documents, and often went back and forth across languages for security reasons. He was fluent in each of these languages, which was likely the reason they had been written as such. Filza could read all but Turkish, Radiya could probably read all of them, Quayyum could definitely read Turkish, Persian, and Saudi, but he doubted that he could read any more than that, and he had no reason to believe Chauncey could read any of them.
It could be that it was intended for his eyes only, but he wasn't going to do things that way. There was far too much in here to go over on his own. Aisha be damned.
Flipping through, some things caught his eye. Mentions of a ritual from the Far East, sketches of leylines and magic circles, mentions of the Age of Gods, but he stopped after opening one in particular. On it was a sketch of a strange man. It was extremely detailed and the pencil marks resembled a printer; it was likely done via necromancy as well. Revived corpses were more like computers than people, so they excelled at detailed tasks like these, just as a camera can capture more detail than a painter.
The man was lithe with a goatee and short, wavy hair. He wore a pinstripe suit-vest, but what stood out was his eyes. Though the sketch was, obviously, only black and white, the coloration around the eyes was different than one would expect, hinting that they were likely of a bright hue, possibly Mystic Eyes. From the sketch you could make out a soft, sly smile that marked him as a smug and likely unreliable person. On the bottom of the portrait read "Caster Dionysus".
The roll contained two papers, and removing the one behind the initial sketch revealed a second. This sketch was of a muscular man with straight, almost angular hair, a pharaoh's beard and black, mummy-like wrappings on his forearms. His eyes were strange as well, being black with white irises. On it read "Disguised Caster".
He placed them to the side and Chauncey grabbed them up greedily. "Oooh... What do we have here?"
Continuing through, there were two more sketches. The first was a strange set of form-fitting armor with strange engravings, or at least it looked like a suit of armor, but what first appeared to be plumage was hair at closer inspection, long hair that seemed to blow in the wind. It read "Rider". The other was of what could only be described as a colossus, with a fierce expression and a mane of wiry hair. It read "Berserker Heracles".
At the bottom of the pile of papers, which Chauncey, Quayyum, and the now-treated Filza were already flipping through, was an envelope addressed to Xander, which he immediately removed and opened. It was written in Hindi.
"To the esteemed Xander Haq,
"I trust this package reached you intact. If not, then at least this letter would make it through, in which case you may respond to the initial email so that I may attempt to send another. These documents are of critical importance, as is this mission, so do not fear reaching out if something should go awry. We Alghuls pride ourselves on secrecy, success, and prestige, but more so on pragmatism; you will not be punished.
"Assuming all is well, I first apologize for any collateral caused by the spirit. This method of transport was absolutely necessary, though I trust you took proper precautions."
Xander mumbled a curse and returned to reading.
"Even so, have no doubt that the Alghul family will cover any necessary costs.
"Your mission is to ensure my victory over the other participants in this ritual. Unprecedented threats in Rider and Berserker have presented themselves, and threaten my victory, and so they must be removed as quickly and efficiently as possible. This, however, is not your role, but mine. I will call upon you should that be necessary, but your role is far more critical.
"My Caster has proven himself to be untrustworthy and malicious, and no doubt plans to betray me once the immediate threats are removed. Even now, I worry this may come sooner rather than later. You will act on my behalf, and conspire with the other Masters to remove my Servant from play. Worry not about what I will do once this is done, I have my plans. Even so, loss is preferable to death, so this takes my immediate attention. Were this a normal war, I would seek the overseer, but bringing the Church into this situation will only complicate things, and will no doubt lead to my arrest or sanctioning by the Clocktower, so we must do this without their aid.
"All of the information on the other Servants and Masters I've so far obtained can be found within. Approach them at your own discretion. I trust your judgement. Do not let me down. Time is of the essence. If Caster should approach you, flee. He is too powerful, though I understand your curses are most powerful following the death of the mage, so if you deem your death to be inevitable, use your magecraft to weaken him as greatly and permanently as possible.
"As a final note, Caster possesses a limited Clairvoyance. I do not yet know the full scope of this ability, but I do know that the whole city at the very least is under his watch. If you do not possess any anti-scrying magecraft, I'd recommend investing in it at your earliest convenience.
"Sent from the desk of Aisha Alghul."
He looked back to the sketch of Caster, which now sat on the bed, and it seemed to glare back at him, as if challenging him. The box which had contained the papers, now empty, began to dissolve into dust, evaporating into the air and collapsing like wet cardboard. It was gone within a matter of moments.
Did Aisha expect them to survive this?
Whatever was going on, Aisha had contracted with a mage, or perhaps something much more ancient than a mage, and now regretted it. And she was relying on them to get her out of the hole she had dug for herself. He looked to his team, minus Radiya, who sat around the bed, examining the other papers. To his surprise, Chauncey had joined in as well. His eyes glowed from within with a demonic red; it wasn't difficult to see what he was doing. Their team suddenly made sense. Experts on ancient spirits with practical experience, including combat, behind them. His eyes lingered on Filza, on the gauze stuck to her temple, and he asked himself once more:
'What are we getting ourselves into?'
A wind started to blow.
They all looked back to the empty evocation circle, which was now glowing with new light.
"Quayyum!?"
"I don't know!"
Thankfully less violent this time around, a flash of light revealed a second box as the wind calmed.
Xander looked to his companions, who all returned his gaze with confusion and fear.
"Samman. Aren't these circles one use only?"
"T-they are. It's possible to use the same spirit twice, but that would require more time than we had to undergo the whole process. Unless Aisha found some way to expedite the ritual?" He scratched his chin and lost himself in his ponderings, no doubt doing mental calculus to try and discern the answer to their conundrum. It was an obviously hopeless endeavor.
He looked to the others, and they were all in agreement.
The box was smaller than the former, but as each circle was only compatible with a single unique spirit, the reaction should have been the same, unless, perhaps, she had split the spirit? But wouldn't both halves have a different signature still? There was no time to think, so he leaned over and opened the box.
Within was an envelope identical to the other, as well as five red bands, bracelets most likely. He opened the letter, written in the same language and calligraphy as the last.
"A final issue has been brought to my attention.
"In order to maintain the secrecy of the war, Caster has enclosed the city in a cursed fog which imposes on all people a curfew through means of suggestion. In addition, he has created undead whose role is to enforce said curfew. The only people immune to this effect are Masters within the war, which naturally would not include the five of you.
"These bands, when placed on your wrists, will mark you as 'Masters' so that the magic won't effect you. They will be necessary for any engagements after 11:pm.
"Good Luck"
"Ah... I'd be careful if I were you." Chauncey spoke up.
Xander looked at him quizzically, not even realizing he'd been paying attention, as did Filza.
"The ink on the signature of the previous letter was magical, but that one doesn't have a signature at all."
Quayyum scoffed, "Well, clearly. What are you implying?"
"Well... this 'Caster' seems like a shifty guy right? A magic shifty guy at that. If we're all so suspicious of the package, maybe don't put 'em on, eh?"
"Please," Quayyum interjected, "Nobody but Miss Alghul herself understands the machinations of the evocation ritual. It's impossible for anybody else to replicate it in such a way. This can only be Aisha."
"But how can we know for certain without the signature? Everything else about the letter is identical."
"And? Her signature isn't on each of these documents, and do we not trust them? She clearly sent the second package in a rush. We can't expect her to enchant every piece of parchment that crosses her lap."
Xander picked up one of the bands and examined it. It was plain in appearance, possibly plastic.
He looked outside the window behind him, the enchanted fog beyond, before returning his gaze to his team. They all looked to him with bated breath, Filza especially.
He took a deep breath, fully aware of the risks in what he was about to do.
"No matter what these are, we can't do our job if we're stuck in here."
He pulled the bracelet onto his wrist.
It glowed with a strange red light, formless and aberrant, before sinking into his flesh with a tingling sensation. When it faded, there was a crimson tattoo, curled around his wrist like a snake.
....