Post by Stardrifter on Jan 1, 2013 0:06:08 GMT -5
by
Stardrifter
#6 - Chaos Theory Part 3
Playthings
-1571-
Spain
The services for Rodrigo are somber and silent, full of prayer and reflection. Jason had insisted that they return to the monastery even though they had no remains to offer for burial. Klarion thought it a nice gesture, though at this point he wished they hadn't come. He liked Rodrigo well enough, even if the monk's constant proselytizing was enough to make Klarion swear off religion entirely. Still, spending just one day with an entire group of monks was bad enough. Having spent three days and counting was torture.
Even his master had been bad company of late. Jason had praised Klarion for his actions during the battle, going so for as to say he was ready for his final trial. Yet the trial still hasn't come. Jason spent the entire trip from Italy to Spain in contemplation. Klarion has been unable to even satisfy his curiosity, as his master has kept the Helm of Nabu and the crystal holding Mordru on his person at all times.
The nine-o-clock bell rings out, signifying the end of evening prayers. The monks, all adorned in the same simple brown wool robes as Rodrigo had worn, get up silently to retreat to their rooms.
"How much longer must we remain here?" Klarion asks in a hushed tone.
"As you get older you may find such moments of peace aren't so objectionable," Jason says without looking at his apprentice. His gaze lingers a moment longer on the simple crucifix hanging on the wall of the monastery before finally turning to Klarion. "Worry not, we leave at first light. We have lingered here long enough. I want to see the Helm choose a successor and Mordru safely hidden for all eternity as soon as possible."
They say goodnight and head to their rooms. Klarion closes the door on his meager accommodations and reaches out with his mind to light the two candles inside. He surveys his room, little more than a cot and a single table in a space he can cross with two large strides. A small window let's in the starlight and sounds of the ocean not far from the monastery.
The monks sure know how to live, he thinks to himself for the hundredth time since coming here. Looking over at his pack sitting up against the wall, he considers reading one of his books to pass the time, but decides against it. He just wants the day to be over so they can finally quit this place. Reaching out with his mind once again, he extinguishes the candles and lies down on the hard, uncomfortable cot.
In the dark, oppressive room, with nothing but the faint sound of waves to comfort him, Klarion's mind begins to race. He once again thinks back to what Mordru said to him during the battle. He'll never be one of them. He doesn't fight for the right reasons, but just the thrill of combat. Klarion's mind lists off all the reasons why it's nonsense and he shouldn't listen to the insane wizard. Yet, despite himself, a part of him wonders if the words he spoke were true. Another part of him wants it to be true.
Rolling over onto his back with a sigh, Klarion reaches into the neck of his shirt and pulls out a small glass vial tied around his neck. His eyes, adjusted to the darkness, can just make out the light gray contents. Ash. All that he was able to recover of his mother after she was burnt at the stake. Even after all these years, the memory of that day still looms strongly in his mind.
He long ago forgave Jason. At least intellectually. Having learned what he knows about the inhabitants of Hell and Lord Satanus, having seen first hand what the likes of him does to people, he knows what happened to his mother had to be done. He knows it, yet every night when he closes his eyes he still sees the flames taking her as she watches him. He still misses her.
Wiping a tear from his cheek, Klarion rolls over onto his side. It had to be done, right? His mother and her coven had sold their souls to Satanus. They were his instruments for evil. They couldn't be allowed to do his bidding on Earth. Could they?
Klarion's mind races through the last ten years of his life. All the time he's traveled with Jason, learning magic and fighting demons and other creatures out to hurt humanity. No matter where they've traveled through Europe and Asia, they always find evil. Different forms, different goals, but evil nonetheless. Jason himself has been alive for a thousand years, facing evil for most of that time. If a man can live a thousand years and never vanquish evil, what's the point?
"Why did my mother have to die?" Klarion asks himself out loud, sitting up. "She died and another took her place. And another. And another. What's the point?"
Uncertainty still grips Klarion's heart, yet one thing he's wanted to do since the battle seems clear. He needs to talk to Mordru again. It takes a couple minutes to muster the courage, but finally Klarion places his feet on the floor and rises. Slipping out of his room in silence, he slinks down the hallway toward Jason's room. The hall is dark, the torches adorning the stone walls having been put out for the night. Klarion creeps slowly, gently placing one foot in front of the other, afraid of any sound that might disturb the monastery.
When he finally reaches Jason's door, Klarion places his ear to it, listening for any signs his master might be awake. Hearing none, he ever so gently reaches out with his mind, probing the room being careful not to disturb Jason or alert him to his presence. His heart is pounding in his chest so hard he can hear it in his ears. Taking a deep breath and holding it in, he slowly lifts the latch on the door.
Once inside he finds Jason asleep on his cot. His arms are wrapped around a small sack, it's contents Klarion knows to be the Helm of Nabu. He looks about and smiles inside when he sees Jason's overcoat in a heap on the floor. Moving with the grace of a cat, Klarion tip toes over to it and reaches inside, never taking his eyes off his sleeping master. Inside the pocket he can feel the crystal in his hand.
It takes every ounce of determination he has not to sprint back out of the room. Keeping his eyes on Jason, Klarion slowly backs out of the room. He closes the door and holds his breath as he let's the latch fall back in place. Overcome by excitement, he risks some noise and walks briskly down the hall back to his room.
Jumping onto his cot, Klarion crosses his legs and opens his hand, gazing into the oddly shaped crystal. It's milky white color seems to swirl as the image of Mordru moves across it. Reaching out with his mind, Klarion sends his thoughts into the crystal.
"Hello Mordru. How do you like your new accommodations?"
"You find this funny?" Mordru's words whisper in Klarion's mind. Klarion can feel his impotent rage. "This won't hold me forever!"
"It may not hold you much longer, if you tell me what I want to know."
That gets Mordru's attention. He takes a moment before responding to consider his words. "So, you've thought about what I said? Decided you don't fit in after all"
"I've decided that nothing matters. We fight and fight and nothing changes. I'm tired of wasting my time fighting in a pointless war."
"Then why not just stop and settle down? Find a bar wench and raise fat babies? Why come to me?" Klarion doesn't answer right away. His silence tells Mordru all he needs to know. "I see, I was right. You love the fighting. The power. You don't want to give that up."
"I just want to go my own way," Klarion declares with determination. "I want to do as I please and...I don't want to die."
"Ah, so you want to know my secret? Is that it my boy? The secret to immortality?"
"You've lived even longer than Jason. I want to know how. I want the power to live and do as I please and never have to face either side in the afterlife."
Klarion can see Mordru's smile in the hazy image on the crystal. "I can give you all that and more. You have my word. All you have to do is free me from this prison and I will give you what you seek."
There's a moments hesitation in Klarion. A split second where he considers what he's committing to and the implications of it. A split second where his heart breaks knowing that his friendship with Jason is at an end. But it's only a split second.
Klarion bites his lower lip and lifts his hand up above his head. A strong throw ends with the crystal shattering into pieces against the wall of the monastery.
****
-The Present-
The sun is setting over Gotham City. The last rays of light break through the trees and enter the large windows of Jason Blood's study. The orange glow spreads more shadow than light, yet Jason holds off from turning on any lights to assist him in reading, having grown accustomed to the dark over his lifetime.
Sitting in his large chair, his legs crossed, he holds a first edition copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream in his lap. The book, given to him by Shakespeare himself, is excellently preserved with the help of some simple enchantments.
One thing Jason has found about having lived for a millennium and a half is that nostalgia comes often and easy. A quick glance at the book out of the corner of his eye led to the flooding of memories about his time on stage in Shakespeare's company. As he reads his old friend's words once more, he smiles wide with both happiness and sadness at the memories. In the back of his mind he feels the presence of another in the room. He simply continues reading.
"Always the scholar," Klarion muses as he steps out of the shadows behind Jason, circling around to the front of his chair. "In your mind is enough information to fill a whole library of books, and yet you feel the need to keep cramming more in." Klarion leans down slightly to read the title of the book. "Or go over things you've already read a thousand times, I see."
"Maybe you should try it again," Jason says in a sarcastic tone, not bothering to look up from his reading. "Might help you correct some of the mistaken conclusions you've come to in your life."
Klarion smiles to himself at the remark. He walks over to the bookshelves and looks over the titles. "So this is what the great life and times of Jason Blood has led to? A hermit who sits alone in his home, reminiscing about old times and not living any new ones. Obviously I'm the one who made the poor decisions."
Jason finally closes his book, placing it in his lap, and looks up at his former apprentice. He doesn't flinch when Teekl jumps up from the floor and into his lap, purring loudly. Jason moves the book aside and lets her lie down, gently scratching her head. Klarion hides a slight bit of jealousy over it.
"How long has it been, Klarion?" Jason asks rhetorically. "Almost a century, right? Since that business in Belgium. Are you truly so bored as to come visit me now? Who is the one reminiscing?"
A scowl spreads on Klarion's face briefly as he turns back to Jason. "Oh I'm not bored. Not at all. I have plenty to occupy my time. New playthings to enjoy. I just wanted to stop in and see what had become of my former teacher. It's always fun to see how wrong you are."
"Wrong?" Jason stands up suddenly, sending Teekl tumbling to the floor, landing on her feet. "You continue speaking of people as 'playthings' and call me wrong?"
"Certainly. After all, the great champion of good here is hardly out doing any championing? What happened to, 'the eternal struggle must be fought to maintain the balance?' That, 'making a difference to those in need is never a meaningless endeavor?' How much of a difference are you making right now?"
Anger wells up inside Jason. Anger centuries old, spurred on by the same endless arguments that never get settled. Anger more intense than ever before, considering the truth in Klarion's words. "So the answer is chaos? Since the conflict on large will never be settled, hurting the little people doesn't matter?"
"The only answer is chaos!" Klarion walks up and shouts in Jason's face, having to look up at him. "There's no point! There's never been any point! So why continue lying to yourself? Life has no meaning beyond enjoying yourself and doing what you want!"
"And hurting others is what you want?" Jason growls.
"Sometimes," Klarion says in a normal tone, bringing his emotions in check and stepping away from Jason. "Like you. I've always wanted to hurt you."
Jason heaves a heavy sigh. Disappointment seeps in to his voice. "I'm right here, son."
The last word causes Klarion's face to twitch with anger. A quiet, seething rage that comes out in his strained voice. "No. No not like that. You took my mother from me in your pointless struggle. Your guilt made you try to fill that role, but you're not my father. No. Your downfall shall come at your own hand. The results of your war will come back to bite you. Just you wait."
Teekl jumps into Klarion's arms and hisses at Jason. Before he can say anything, the two disappear. The sun having finally set, Jason is left standing alone in the dark.
****
Dawn smiles and hugs her friend Kathy as they part in the hallway, heading to different classes. The smile remains as she strolls through the crowds of students. It's been three days since Klarion first started teaching her how to control her powers. In that time he's continued to be amazed at her progress. Even she is astonished at how naturally it's all been coming to her. He even admitted to a bit of jealousy at how fast she's accomplished things that took him weeks to master.
True to his word, Klarion has become her roommate, though he comes and goes as he pleases. When she wondered aloud why no other girls have been assigned to her room, Klarion just gave her his most mischievous smile in response.
She laughs quietly to herself at the thought of what the school would do if they found out he was staying with her. If anyone did. The rumors would be salacious, despite Klarion having been a perfect gentleman the entire time. A fact that, Dawn has started to realize with a bit of shame, she wouldn't mind changing.
"Speak of the devil," Dawn says as she rounds the corner to her classroom and finds Klarion standing next to the door.
"Who have you been talking to about me?" Klarion smiles at her.
"All right. Think of the devil, then." Dawn returns the smile after correcting herself. She kneels down to pet Teekl, who rubs up against her.
"And what was my lady thinking about me?"
Dawn blushes slightly at the implication. "That you always show up at the most inopportune times. I have to go to class."
"Indeed you do," Klarion says while holding out his hand to her. "With me."
Dawn shakes her head. This would be the third class she'll miss in three days if she goes with him. The first was after he left and told her to keep practicing with the flame. She got so caught up that she completely spaced on Statistics. The next one was two days later, when on her way to Chemistry he appeared to drag her off to watch the Gotham Knights' football practice. There he taught her how to cast minor spells without causing others to take notice. It ended up being the most unusual and frustrating practice for the team in history.
Dawn bites her lower lip and steps aside to let other students in the classroom. She considers her options carefully, all while feeling the weight of Klarion's eyes on her. "Can you wait an hour or so? I really can't miss my class."
Klarion sighs and shakes his head, like a parent disappointed in their child. "Really? You'd rather waste your time learning about a dead society from two thousand years ago than learn magic?"
Dawn averts her eyes, staring at her feet, as if ashamed by his words. "No I just...I'm just asking you to wait a bit so I can do both."
"You would ask the stars to darken on a whim? You would ask the rain to wait until you're safely inside?" His questions are delivered with mock anger. At least Dawn hopes it's only mock anger. "Finish your lessons with me and you could travel to Rome itself in the blink of an eye."
"But I..."
"Dawn, come with me," Klarion whispers while taking her hand. His entire demeanor changes from anger to gentleness in an instant. He looks at her from under his eyebrows, his eyes pleading to her to come with him. She can't put up a fight.
"Okay," she smiles, turning from his gaze as she blushes.
"Excellent!"
Klarion snaps his fingers and it's as if the world blinks. There's an incredible darkness for an instant, then light comes back and they are no longer standing in the hallway at school, but instead standing in front of the Gotham City Opera House in the Business District. Her clothes have changed from her simple jean and tank top combo to a long, strapless black dress. Her hair is done up and her school books are nowhere to be seen.
"What...where...?"
"Don't worry about your things, they're back in your room," Klarion assures her. He takes her hand and she looks at him to see his clothing has changed slightly as well. Instead of his basic black suit jacket, he's now wearing a black tuxedo with a black bow tie. His hair, usually hanging down over his forehead and eyes, is slicked back.
"What are we doing here?" Dawn asks, her heart pounding as she looks about the busy street. "How is this a magic lesson?"
"Simple." He folds her arm and places it around his, leading her into the opera house. "Magic lets you do as you please. It's Friday night and I won't have you wasting it listening to that professor drone on and on."
When they enter the opera house, all the people inside are dressed as fancy as they are. The theater itself is amazing. Chandeliers light a large lobby with mirrored walls and golden trim. The sounds of the orchestra tuning up their instruments mix in with the roar of the crowd.
"Tickets please?" a snooty usher asks as they effortlessly cut ahead of the line. No one appears to notice or object.
"Ah yes, right here my good man," Klarion says in a mocking tone, holding up an empty hand. The usher stares at his hand for a moment. his round face glazing over for a moment, before looking back up.
"Thank you sir. Enjoy the show."
With a wink, Klarion leads her into the theater. They walk down the hallway, smiling at those they pass, with Teekl hot on their heels. They make their way around the curving hallway until they reach the entrance to a private box seat.
Klarion gives her his exaggerated bow. "After you, madame."
"Why thank you, kind sir," Dawn says with a slight curtsy and regal nod of the head. Her attempt to keep a straight face fails. She covers her mouth as giggles erupt, Klarion joining in the laughter. She enters the box to find a view overlooking the stage from the left. They're so close she could spit on it.
After they take their seats, Teekl lying down obediently in Klarion's lap, he waves his hand and produces a playbill for her. The opera is entitled, L'Amour Interdit. It is described as a tale of love and scandal set during the French Renaissance.
"What is this?" a loud, angry voice calls out from behind them. They turn quickly to see a rotund elderly man and a petite young woman standing in the doorway. The man's face is bright red. "Who are you people! This is my box! I demand..."
"Shhh!" Klarion puts his finger to his lips, instantly silencing the man. The couple looks at him, tilting their heads like dogs trying to understand something. After a moment they turn and leave.
"What did you do? Did you just control their minds?" Dawn whispers, not sure how she feels about what he did.
"I didn't force them to do anything, if that's what you're asking," Klarion leans over to whisper back. "Controlling someone's mind with magic is possible, but takes a lot of power and a very strong connection with the victim. Not something you can do on the fly."
"So what did you do?"
"I just showed them what I wanted them to see. Illusions are pretty simple and a much easier way of controlling people, if you know what you're doing. They saw the box as being closed for renovation. Now they'll likely go ask for another seat."
"Won't whoever they talk to think they're crazy? The box isn't closed for renovation."
Klarion closes his eyes and shrugs. "It is now."
Dawn turns in her seat to see the curtains of the box are pulled tight. On the outside, anyone passing by will see a rope tied across the entrance and a "Closed For Renovation" sign hanging from the rope. Klarion explains that to anyone looking up at the box from below, it will appear empty.
When the audience is all seated and the doors closed, the orchestra tunes up and the show begins. The music is grand, though sung in French, so Dawn doesn't understand any of it. Still she sits wide eyed at the pageantry of it all. Klarion explains a bit of the story to her. It follows a noble husband and wife. The wife appears to be happy, until a man from her past arrives and it quickly turns into an affair.
While Dawn spends the entire show enjoying it immensely, Klarion gets more and more frustrated. At first she doesn't notice, but as time goes on, his audible sighs and constant fidgeting begin to distract her. As the climax begins, the husband confronts the man and a duel begins. The wife appears to plead with the two men to stop. Just as the duel is about to begin, Klarion shouts, "Boring!"
With a wave of his hand, Klarion sends a blast of magic at the actor portraying the man. Suddenly he transforms into a demon, growling and hissing at the actors and audience alike. At first no one is sure what to make of it, but when the demon grabs the actress playing the wife, she screams at the top of her lungs. Like a dam bursting, the audience jumps up and screams as well.
"What are you doing?" Dawn yells over the ruckus, standing up over Klarion.
"Just having some fun," he smirks, placing his feet up on the railing. "Calm down."
The demon growls and brings the shrieking actress up to it's mouth, as if he's going to take a bite out of her. Dawn turns from Klarion and raises her hand, concentrating. She pulls energy from the electricity running through the walls, dimming the emergency lights in the process, and sends a blast of pure energy at the demon. The blast hits the demon in the face, causing him to drop the actress and stagger back.
"Turn him back, now!" Dawn screams. The audience continues to shout as they stampede over each other, trying to escape the madness.
"But it's so much fun!"
His smile sickens her. "Klarion, what are you doing? This isn't fun, this is wrong! You're hurting people! Stop it, please!"
Klarion's smile dissolves into a disappointed frown. He slowly stands up and looks her directly in the eyes. "I suppose it was too much to hope for."
"What?"
"That you would see things my way." He turns and places his hands on the railing, leaning down to survey the madness. The demon recovers from the blast and jumps down into the audience, crashing into the seats and sending people flying. "It would have made my plans so much more fun. I do like you, Dawn."
"I don't understand," Dawn growls, grabbing at her hair in frustration. "Plans? Why are you doing this? Why are you hurting people?"
"Because I like it!" he says with conviction, turning to her in a flourish. His slicked back hair begins to dishevel, falling over his forehead. "Because nothing we do matters! Because this," he spreads his arms out, indicating the chaos surrounding them, "is fun! It's what I live for!"
Dawn staggers back a step, her hand covering her mouth in horror at what's happening. The Klarion she'd come to know over the last three days is nowhere to be seen. The man standing before her is like a different person entirely, and he frightens her.
Turning back toward the stage, Klarion waves his hand and two fake horses spring to life, a patchwork of wood, flesh, and fangs. They run out into the audience as well, chasing down the last remnants of people who haven't managed to escape.
Looking down at the carnage below, the trampled innocents and half eaten people, fear turns to rage inside Dawn. Gathering power inside her, she raises both her hands and points them at the back of Klarion's head. She forms the spell in her thoughts and prepares to release it and...nothing. Nothing comes. The energy she's built up dissipates into the atmosphere.
Klarion slowly turns toward her, a smile on his face. "My dear girl, I have a lot of power. And in the three days we've been together, we've built a very strong connection."
Klarion turns past her and walks out of the box. Dawn screams aloud as her legs move on their own, following Klarion as obediently at Teekl. Tears stream down her face as Dawn finds that once again her body is no longer hers to control.
-To Be Concluded-