path of power: book 2: the book of dawn and dusk by h. o. de jonge

8/11/2019 Path Of Power: Book 2: The Book Of Dawn And Dusk by H. O. De Jonge

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Harry Olferman de Jonge was born on the 21st of February 1989

and grew up in a small town in South Africa with his grandparents.

Growing up he found he had a love for a good book, which sparked

the obsessive collection of as many books as possible. Days and

nights were spent in front of his beloved books, until the day came

that he decided to take up the pen himself. And from that came the

first of what is predicted to be hundreds of stories written by anauthor named H.O. de Jonge.



P A T H

O F

P O W E R :

B O O K 2

T H E B O O K O F D A W N A N D D U S K



To my sister and grandmother, my favourite two women in this and

any other world.



H O D e J onge

P A T H O F P O W E R :

B O O K

2

T H E B O O K O F D A W N A N D D U S K



Copyright © H. O. De Jonge

The right of H. O. De Jonge to be identified as author of this work

has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 ofthe Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,

stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any

means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or

otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims

for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British

Library.

ISBN 978 184963 564 6

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2014)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd.

25 Canada Square

Canary WharfLondon

E14 5LB

Printed and bound in Great Britain



Acknowledgments

To my family, for their endless support. Without you none of this

would ever have happened.

To Theodore Dean Weilbach. Your support and constantconstructive feedback has helped to greatly improve the quality of

my work. You truly are one of the best friends a person can ask for.

To Mia. P, you are by far the most talented artist I know personally,

and your help to create a map that I am willing to have associated

with my work is greatly appreciated. To my friends, you might be

few and far between but I would prefer keeping the people I would

die for at a minimum.

To my readers, your support has been the most important thing tome from the start. I am thrilled that I have received another

opportunity to share my stories with you.

To my publishers, the people who believed in me from the start and

took a chance on an unknown author from a small town in South

Africa.



Prologue

Darkness started to spread across the sky enveloping not just the

light but also seemingly every feeling of happiness and hope.

Servilius made his way down the panicking streets of the city of

Profugus, the Black-Elf citizens stampeding in every direction to

escape the fate that has now found them and threatened to destroy

them. Servilius was just as afraid as the rest of the Black-Elves but

for all his flaws he at least had the ability to maintain a level head inmoments of crisis. He knew very well that the evil that was just

released needed to be stopped for the sake of the entire world. And

the only way to stop it was in the ethereal tower in the centre of the

city. The book had been used to lock the creature away before, it

could do so again.

“The Balarto is free!” someone from behind Servilius shouted.

A new wave of panic spread through the crowd of people at the

name of the evil creature.

Servilius could definitely understand the panic the frantic elves

experienced, the Balarto was by far the worst of all the ancient

demon lords. And now it was running amok in the city of the very

people who had imprisoned him for so long.

A sudden roaring sound from behind Servilius caught his

attention, but before looking back he first ducked behind an alley

wall. At the very moment when Servilius put his back to the stonewall a wave of shadow sped past the spot in the street he had just

vacated. The beast was fully free then, he thought as the shadows

started to spread into the alley where he was hiding. Hysterical



maniacally laughter rent through the air causing a shiver to run

down Servilius’ back. A high-pitched voice with the same maniacal

properties suddenly sounded from everywhere. Servilius was not

really sure if the voice emerged from the surrounding shadows or just sounded inside his head.

“Death! Blood! Fun!”

The sudden proclamation of doom spurred Servilius to run

again. The creature would not leave until he had killed, enslaved

and destroyed the entire city; this at least meant he had time.

As he moved through the empty alleyways of the city it seemed

that the shadow itself followed him. The idea made Servilius shiver

again and awoke a new sense of urgency inside him.

As Servilius made his way through the darkening streets he

heard explosions in the distance followed by the crumbling sound of

stone and brick. The shadows themselves seemed to be alive and

watching, each making sure its master’s prey did not escape.

“Omnibus locis fit caedes! Omnibus locis fit caedes!” the

Balarto’s voice called as people screamed and died. The smell of

fire, blood, and death filled the ever chilling air. It was like hopeitself was being killed. Servilius could not remember ever feeling

anything like this before. Could this be what it was like when the

old gods ran free in the lands? Servilius wondered to himself.

The ethereal tower seemed to grow out of the earth like a flower

as the elf approached it. The tower was made from solid ebony that

rose into the sky, seven sharp towers forming a sort of crown at the

top, the tallest of which held what Servilius needed. What the world

needed.

“Servilius! What has happened?” a voice called to him as he

reached the door to the tower.

“Caius? You are still alive. Praise the Lord of Heaven,”

Servilius said as he saw the Priest of the Ancients running towards

him. “The Balarto has escaped Caius, we need to seal it up again.”

“But how has this happened? What happened to Uriel?” Caius

asked as the two made their way into the tower. As they enteredServilius paused to stare back at his city, a shadow denser than

normal covered the entire city and not a star could be seen in the



sky, even the moon was just a dull grey circle. Fires burned in every

direction, none of which truly gave off any light or heat whatsoever.

A tear ran down Servilius’ cheek as he saw the carnage and

devastation, and as the tear fell so did a building in the distance. Heturned and walked after Caius into the dark entrance hall of the

tower, the faint calls of “Omnibus locis fit caedes!” still audible

through the thick walls.

“What does that mean?” Servilius asked as the two elves

stepped on to the first step of the tower.

“What does what mean?” Caius asked as the stairs began to

move upwards, taking them to the top of the tower.

“That thing the Balarto keeps yelling,” Servilius said attempting

to balance himself on the moving stair.

Caius looked solemn at the question and refused to meet

Servilius’ gaze as he said, “Omnibus locis fit caedes. Let there be

slaughter everywhere.”

Servilius felt the blood drain from his face, we are all doomed,

he thought as they made their assent in a grave silence.

When they reached the top of the stairs Caius immediately ran toa podium in the middle of the room. Servilius paused to stare out

over the city through the east side balcony. The room was

surrounded by four large balconies, one on each side giving the

room a very spacious feel. If it wasn’t for the chaos and destruction

taking place below them it would have been quite a beautiful sight.

“How are we stopping the thing?” Servilius asked as another

building collapsed in the distance. “Will we seal it back in

someone?”

“No, I’m afraid that spell requires about twenty elf mage

masters. We only have the two of us, neither a master,” Caius shook

his head.

“Then how are we going to stop it?” Servilius asked with regret,

for he knew full well he did not want to hear the answer that would

follow.

“Runes have been placed all around our city for just thiseventuality. The council knew that should the Balarto ever escape

all hope will be lost for our people,” Caius stared up from the book



as he said his next words, “All we can do now is stop that thing

from wreaking havoc on the rest of Anarchos.”

The words rang in Servilius’ ears with an iron certainty, but he

could not bring himself to believe what he had just heard. He staredout over the city that had been his home for over eight hundred

years, and then raised his gaze to the horizon. Out there, there were

unsuspecting people who did not know of the danger that had been

unleashed, innocent people who deserved death no more than any of

the people of Profugus. If there was no way to save the elves, then

at least they could save the rest of Anarchos.

“What do you need me to do?” Servilius asked Caius with a

steely resolve on his face.

Caius nodded his appreciation of his comrade’s calm

demeanour. He then turned the book that lay before him on its spine

so Servilius could see both the gleaming white and draining black

covers of the book. Caius then split the black and white again,

opening the book perfectly in the middle. “The spell will take some

time to activate the runes, so you can count on the Balarto realising

what we are doing. It will come here to stop us as soon as it does,I’m sure. So both of us are going to die here in this room for sure

tonight,” he stopped as if waiting for some sort of horrified

response. When Servilius did not oblige he continued, “You need to

stall it long enough for me to finish the spell. I have heard you are a

very well accomplished caster yourself so I will trust to your

ingenuity as to how you will manage that.”

“I will manage,” Servilius nodded.

“Good. Then let’s begin,” Caius said, both elves nodding at oneanother.

And so Caius started to read the chanting spell from the book

with the chiming grace expected from his kind. With every word

uttered Servilius’ heart beat faster and faster, a cold sweat trickling

down his neck. His eyes were locked on the city below, expecting to

see some sort of sign that the Balarto knew what was happening. He

thought the sign had come as a sudden vibration emerged from

beneath his feet. Then with a pang like some sort of giant bell the

tower itself rang out in rhythm with Caius’ chant. Suddenly the little

bit of light left was slowly being extinguished, starting at an



epicentre just above the tower. Servilius imagined some sort of

black net being cast over them, a net that would spread, until it

covered the entire city.

Then the sign he had been expecting showed itself.An explosion larger than all the others erupted in the city below.

A maniacally scream of rage filling the air like a wolf’s howl.

Servilius readied himself for what was to come, but he was not

ready for what happened. A streak of black cloud shot up into the

air from where the explosion had just taken place. It rose into the air

and then collided with something solid in the sky, then charged

down at where he was standing. It landed in a haze of black clouds

on the balcony before him bringing with it a biting cold. The

Balarto was veiled in shadows where it rose to its feet before

Servilius who felt his heart beating beneath his tongue. When the

creature stood fully erect it was twice the size of Servilius who

already towered above most mortals.

“Now, now boys. You’ve been very bad,” the Balarto said with

an exaggerated mocking tone. “You wouldn’t want to hurt my

feelings, now would you?” the demon giggled sickly as it slowlymade its way forward, its visage never truly entering into the light.

With a quick succession of movement Servilius formed the

necessary symbols to cast his spell. The Balarto was still giggling as

the spell took effect and hooked chains shot from the walls and

floor to bind the creature. Bars of thick iron shot out of the ground,

forming a cage around the Balarto as the hooks dug into its flesh.

Servilius breathed deeply with fatigue, but a grin spread across

his face as he realised the Balarto was no longer giggling.

“Not so funny in there is it?” Servilius mocked the motionless

creature. He then turned to Caius who was still chanting the spell

from the book and yelled, “I bought some time, but it won’t…”

The words were cut off as a large, long fingered hand closed

around Servilius’ throat. A deep gravelly voice so unlike the one

before spoke right next to Servilius’ ear, “I am really getting tired of

you little bastards trying to cage me up.”Servilius never saw how the demon got out of its cage and

bindings, nor did he ever see the thing’s face. The next moment



pain shot through his body, and was immediately followed by a

warm sensation running down his stomach.

The next thing he knew he was flung against one of the walls,

and the room filled with hysterical laughter. Servilius slipped in andout of consciousness as he lay there in the corner, dying. He heard

Caius’ last few chanting words before the Balarto killed him as

well. Again it laughed its hysterical laughter and he felt a tear

escape his closed eye. He opened it and found that he was still alive.

Caius was ripped in two, his body lying on one end of the room, his

head on the other. The Balarto was standing on the balcony

surveying his work and snickering with joy. Deciding to continue

his devastation of the city, it leapt down to the city floor. Serviliusstruggled to move his legs, but they would not obey. His arm,

however, would.

It took him what felt like hours to reach the toppled podium and

book. It was still open on the page Caius was reading from, in fact

there were only about three more lines to go from where Caius had

left off.

He cleared his throat, then putting the last of his life energy intoit, he read the last few lines. The Balarto was back instantly, yet still

too late. It barely took one step towards Servilius before the final

word was uttered, and the tower gave one last almighty clang

sealing the city for all eternity. The last thing Servilius saw was the

Balarto screaming in fury and agony, the sight was so sweet to

behold he gave one last giggle before he was taken by death.



1Six months after the fall of Pensilisurbis

A river of crystal clear water trickled through the valley, a gold

shimmering colour reflecting off the surface as the sun set over the

horizon. A light breeze gathered up the leaves of the nearby trees as

the sound of clashing metal broke the peaceful atmosphere of the

twilight covered valley. A trickle of blood ran down Alexander'sarm where the blade of the she-elf had just cut him, her slender long

sword curved just like her lips. The elf had black grey skin as

smooth and perfect as worked granite. She wore no shoes as her feet

were like those of a monkey and from her back sprouted the long

slender tail of a monkey as well. She smiled at her successful blow

as she danced backwards away from Alexander’s assault. They both

moved more rapidly and graceful than any mere human could ever

dream of as they parried one another’s attacks. Alexander wore aleather armoured jacket and wielded two swords, one of pure white,

the other jet black. His hair was a mahogany colour and fell to his

shoulders curtaining his alabaster white face with its shockingly

blue eyes. Blue eyes that seemed to lose their solidity for a moment

as the Prince of Angelia called upon his ancient bloodline’s power.

As the she-elf danced backwards out of Alexander’s reach, he

breathed out slowly, and instead of just air a stream of fire shot

forth. The she-elf twirled out of the fire’s way, the end of her long jet black hair singed by the heat. A musical giggle chimed from her

as she launched forward with a new wave of attacks. Alexander



fended her off as best he could but another slice caught him, this

time on his cheek.

“I warned you about wasted movements, didn’t I?” she mocked,

dancing backwards again.Alexander reached up to his face and wiped away the line of

blood with the back of his hand. No scar was left behind.

“Such an unfair ability that,” the elf shook her head.

“If you think that is unfair wait till you see this!” Alexander

yelled as he sliced the air before him with his sword. A rush of air

seemed to charge forward as he did so, and as it collided with the

ground and trees they split in two as if struck by some invisiblegiant’s sword. The elf , however, twirled easily out of the way, her

fingers working furiously forming elven runes.

“Another wasted movement, I keep telling you that it shouldn’t

look impressive it should be effective.” She finished the runes and

placed her palm forward, an enormous rush of golden flames

licking forward at Alexander.

Dropping both swords to the ground he raised his hands into the

air. The crystal surface of the river was suddenly distorted as he brought its content forward and into the fire. The stream of water

hissed as it met the flames, and within seconds the air was filled

with a thick white mist. The white steam was so thick all around

that Alexander could barely see his own hands before him. But that

also held for the elf he knew, and this was also perfect for the new

trick he had devised. Focusing on the air around him he

manipulated it to start spinning violently, stirring the mist around

him into a white tornado. Then closing his hand into a fist the mist

suddenly froze, a storm of flying icicles suddenly surrounded the elf

who attempted with no success to cover her face with her arms. It

was no use, she quickly realized that if she did not do something

fast she would be cut to ribbons. Alexander expected the attack

before it came. He was already forming the elven runes before she

sped forward with her sword held back for a final blow. He was still

new to the elven magic so he did not manage to cast the full spell

before she was upon him. He cast the half of the binding spell

before she was close enough to attack. Stone arms shot from the



ground beneath her, grabbing both legs in their stony grips. She fell

forward, her sword tumbling out of her grip.

“Got you,” Alexander smiled catching her sword and racing

forward to end it with her own weapon.“You forgot the hands,” the elf said pulling what looked like a

crossbow without string from behind her. The wooden weapon was

covered in elven runes from top to bottom that started glowing as

she pointed it at Alexander. Before he could stop in time there was a

loud crack and he flew through the air away from the elf. His back

struck a tree that cracked and fell on top of him.

“Yield?” was the next word Alexander heard as the elf stood

above him.

“Yield,” he confirmed.

“Good,” the elf smiled a dazzling smile, then lifted the tree off

of Alexander as if it weighed nothing more than a twig.

“Shadow, Ghost,” Alexander called his swords to him as he got

to his feet. Clouds of black and white immediately erupted before

him, and as his hands closed around the swirling clouds they

suddenly solidified into the two swords. “Become one,” he addedand the two swords merged into one.

As he and the elf walked to her campsite Alexander sheathed the

weapon at his side.

“You did well today,” the elf said as they walked into her

campsite. It was a pretty standard place as far as campsites went;

there was a tent next to a circle of stones where wood was piled for

the night’s fire. A pot filled with vegetables for the night’s vegetarian meal stood expectantly next to a log that served as the

seat next to the fire at night.

“Still not good enough,” Alexander said undoing the straps of

his leather armour. After he removed the jacket he took off his tunic

to reveal a massive purple bruise where the blast of the rune bow

had struck him. If he had not been wearing armour the blast would

have torn him apart.

“You are a lot better than you were in the beginning,” she saidgoing through her bag which was lying next to the stump along with

Alexander’s satchel.



This was true Alexander thought. He had always thought of

himself as a good swordsman, he had after all grown up hunting

pirates and had never lost a sword fight. That is until Pensilisurbis.

The elven general had swatted him aside like a fly, and he would bedead today if not for the help from the silver eyed visitor and the

Tapliens. Buffo and his people luckily were skilled enough to

nullify the poison in his system. Since then he had trained with

Buffo in the art of water manipulation, the last element he could

learn to master. Unless he somehow found a master able to teach

him lightning manipulation and according to Dante, Cain was the

only one left who could manipulate lightning. Somehow Alexander

doubted his power hungry uncle would teach him anything, hewasn’t exactly known for sharing power.

It was after one of his lessons with Buffo that Alexander had

met Helena. The sight of anyone who did not resemble a giant toad

in the Taplien city was definitely noteworthy. She had come into

town to buy supplies she could not be bothered to scrounge up on

her own.

“She’s lived on the outskirts of our lands since her people fell.

She leaves every now and again to hunt down some demon or

another, but she always finds her way back here. She is the last of

her kind so she prefers to keep to herself mostly,” Buffo had told

Alexander when he enquired as to the Black-Elf’s presence.

It seemed to be a kismet meeting to Alexander who felt so lost

without his old mentor to guide him. Since Dante’s capture he had

been obsessing over what he would do once he was finished with

his training in water manipulation. He still needed to learn elvenrune magic so he went to her camp that night to ask for her help.

When he reached her campsite he found a less than warm welcome,

however.

“Go away,” were the only words she could spare him.

“I’m sorry? I just-”

“Go away.”

“All-” “Go away.”

“But-”



“GO AWAY,” she drew her sword.

The action caused Alexander to reach for his weapon as well,

but before his hand could close around his sword’s hilt she attacked.

Alexander was only able to block the first attack, the secondstopped inches away from his throat

“I thought Angelians were a little better than this. I must admit if

you are the best hope at defeating Cain we are all doomed,” she

whispered in a malevolent voice.

“How did?” Alexander began to ask but felt the question die in

his throat.

“I saw you learning water manipulation from Buffo, and onlyAngelians can manage that. And I know you want to kill Cain

because I know how it feels to have your home destroyed. A desire

to exact vengeance upon the one who destroyed your home is a

given,” she drew back. “You flurry around too much. Your style of

fighting looks impressive, and that scares lesser warriors into

making foolish mistakes. Looking good, however, is not good

enough to defeat true masters.”

That was the first time Alexander realised he might not be asgood as he thought. It was true, he had defeated a lot of warriors

before, but none had the necessary training to be called blade

masters.

The realisation left him feeling hollow inside. For all his flaws

he at least always considered himself to be a good swordsman, but

everything of late had proven the opposite. He was still weak.

“Thank you for the advice, I’m sorry I bothered you,” he said in

a defeated manner.

He had already started walking away and sheathed his sword

when she called him back , “Wait!”

Alexander turned to look at her, she had sheathed her sword as

well. “Come sit. I’ll hear what you have to say.”

For a moment Alexander considered declining and just letting it

go, but then the thought of Dante and Merrick entered his mind. His

friends had been captured by Cain’s generals and were in alllikelihood being tortured for information on him. He had to do

anything and everything he could to rescue them. And so he pleaded



his case with Helena, he told her everything. Who he really was,

what he had gone through, and what he needed to still accomplish.

He then begged her for her help, not just with rune magic, but to

teach him to fight like her as well.“What do I get out of this?” she asked Alexander, her hazel

brown eyes seemingly looking through his soul. “Cain is of no

threat to me, neither has he directly wronged me. I gain nothing by

helping you.”

“What would you ask of me?” Alexander asked, feeling more

than guessing that there was something specific she wanted.

“Well you are Angelian,” she paused as if waiting for him to try

and deny it. “Your people were created specifically to maintain

order on this world. It is said that nothing in this world can ever

grow more powerful than an Angelian.”

“There are things,” Alexander said shortly.

The elf looked at him for a moment as if measuring him up,

when she was done she said, “Yes that might be so, but in the end

you have the most power of the mortal beings. A lot more than I can

ever hope to achieve,” Helena paused again, an expression on herface Alexander knew too well. He had worn that expression ever

since his mother had been killed. It was shame. Shame of her own

weakness.

“The thing that killed my people is far too powerful for me to

kill, but with your help that might be possible,” she looked hungrily

at Alexander. “I told you I know how it feels to want vengeance on

the thing that destroyed your home and loved ones. I know where

the thing that wronged me is, if you promise to help me kill it I will

teach you all you need to know.”

“You have my word,” Alexander said without a second thought.

And so for the last five months Alexander had been training

with Buffo in the mornings, and Helena in the evenings. At night he

practiced his magic on his own from out the spell book he had

gotten from Pensilisurbis.

“Here rub this ointment on, it should help with the bruising and pain,” Helena held out a small clay pot.



“No thanks, I’ll be fine,” Alexander waved away the offered

ointment.

“As you wish, I figure if I offer enough times you will accept it

sooner or later,” Helena started rubbing the ointment over the cutsshe had gotten from the ice storm. “You seem to have pretty much

mastered water manipulation.”

“That was water wielding not manipulation,” Alexander

corrected her.

“What is the difference?” Helena asked.

“Water wielding allows me to shift the state of the water from

liquid to solid or gas. Water manipulation is just getting the water todo what you want it to in the form it already is in.” Alexander

summoned forth a flame and lit Helena’s campfire for her.

“But how is that possible? Only Angelians can use wielding and

I have seen Buffo shift the state of the water before,” she put the

ointment back in her bag, the cuts on her arms already healing.

“Buffo isn’t exactly a normal Taplien is he. He is over nine

thousand years old after all, that makes him the oldest living thing

in all of Anarchos. Something happened to Buffo long ago that hewon’t tell me about, but whatever it is, it has enabled him to do

more than just manipulate.”

“Is that even possible?” Helena asked picking up the pot of

vegetable stew and placing it over the fire.

“Apparently. You can’t see a person’s inner energy like I can,

but I can tell you Buffo’s is nothing like anything I have ever seen

before. He could probably live another nine thousand years easily ifsomeone doesn’t kill him,” Alexander explained as he played with

the dancing flame.

“His granddaughter threatening him with death again I take it?”

Helena smiled at the thought.

“As per usual, yes. Something about him not being too old to

wipe his feet before walking in her house or something like that.

She actually just might kill him this time,” Alexander smiled too.

He had grown quite fond of the Tapliens and their peaceful lifestyle.“To answer your earlier question, yes I have pretty much mastered



water wielding. Buffo says the rest is up to me to master on my

own.”

“Then I suppose you will be leaving soon?” Helena asked

hesitantly.“Could it be you have actually grown fond of my company?”

Alexander raised his eyebrow at her.

“Don’t be silly. You just still have a debt to repay me,

remember. I don’t want you vanishing before you pay it,” Helena

said refusing to look at Alexander.

“Yes I suppose it does mean I will be leaving soon. But I don’t

think I’m ready to fight the thing you told me of. ”“Oh no, you are nowhere ready for the Balarto. You can’t even

beat me yet,” she stopped at the look Alexander gave her. “So

where are you planning on going next then?”

“I’m not really sure yet,” Alexander’s expression suddenly

turned serious. “Dante wanted me to learn all the wielding arts. I’m

not sure what he had intended for after that.”

Alexander had never felt as lost as he had since Dante’s capture.

Dante always held the answers, always knew what to do next.

“I have to go,” Alexander said suddenly, “Buffo will be

wondering where I am.”

He got up and grabbed his satchel in mid stride. It wasn’t

completely true, Buffo knew exactly where he was. The thought of

Dante and Merrick being tortured somewhere just made Alexander

feel sick to his stomach.

“See you tomorrow then?” Helena asked in a timid voice thatmade him feel guilty. He knew she thought she had just angered

him.

“See you tomorrow Helena,” he said over his shoulder with the

best smile he could muster. To his relief she at least smiled back at

him.



2

The valley was completely covered in darkness when Alexander got

back to the Taplien city. The buildings of the Taplien city were all

completely comprised of living and still growing plants, giving the

place a magical feel like something out of a fairy-tale. It was by far

the most calming and peaceful place Alexander had ever visited,which was good seeing as being calm under pressure was the main

ingredient in water manipulation.

Staying calm was not a problem for him anymore, however, he

was angry only at himself to the result that he seemed to resent

himself for not being stronger than he was.

“Boy child,” Ashena, Buffo’s great granddaughter said as

Alexander entered their home, “you’re home early.”

The Tapliens, while an odd race were nothing Alexander was

not used to. He had spent the last year alone as a pupil to a race of

eagle and lion men, and to a young boy who had the head of a

mouse. The Tapliens were a bit different though. Where the Pride

and Moondrakes had the appearance of some sort of crossing

between men and animals the Tapliens seemed to be nothing more

than giant toads that had learned to stand upright and talk. On their

backs there were blue crystals that glowed soothingly, a result of

their staying in the tranquil valley they called home.

“Yes,” Alexander agreed, this was fairly early for him to be

back home, “I wasn’t up to much company tonight.”



“Ah, understood,” she nodded understandingly. “Would you like

some food before going up?”

“No thanks Ashena, I appreciate it though,” Alexander’s eyes

paused momentarily on Buffo’s empty seat.“He is still with the elder council,” Ashena said as she saw what

he was looking at.

“Still?” Alexander enquired.

“Yes, they are discussing something of great importance

apparently. Don’t ask me what, they don’t tell anyone outside the

council anything.”

Alexander nodded then left for his room upstairs. The room thatBuffo had given him was quite comfortable. It had a giant lily pad

for a bed, softer than anything he had ever slept on before. A shame

really, since he never really slept anymore. Against the wall

Alexander had assembled his alchemy set to experiment with

whenever he had time; he had grown quite fond of the art. It kept

his mind occupied for hours on end and also seemed to have a

rather calming effect on him. Black sludge was currently brewing in

the glass bottles, resembling tar as it gave a sticky bubble everynow and then. Nightshade’s truth it was called, according to the

book Lisa, the witch from the wandering city had given him. Once

it was done it would be one of the most powerful truth serums in

existence. He would need it once he was ready to rescue Dante and

Merrick to find out where they were being kept.

Alexander sat down on his bed with a sigh, he felt so frustrated

at times that he just wanted to scream. The hatred inside him grew

day by day, and the list of those he wished to exact his vengeance

upon grew with it. Fabien the Black-Elf who had almost killed him

back at Pensilisurbis and also the Black General of Cain’s army.

Peramier the White General who had captured Dante. Guerra the

Red General and Cain’s Lord of War, the one responsible for the

siege on Pensilisurbis and the death of King Garret Swan, and also

the one who captured Merrick. Cain’s Cloaked General the one who

has destroyed so much, including the city of Moondrake resulting in

the death of Klaus, Alexander's air manipulation master. Most of all

Cain himself, the man who took everything from Alexander, and



then just kept on destroying. All these men needed to die by his

hand, yet he did not know if that power even lay within him.

A knock at the door brought Alexander out of his revelry.

“Come in,” he called“Alexander?” Young Meg, another one of Buffo’s

granddaughters asked peering through the crack in the door.

“Grandfather asked that you join the council as soon as you return

from your training with the she-elf.”

“The council?” Alexander asked shocked. No one ever got into

the council meeting unless it was of great importance.

“Yes. It sounded important,” Young Meg said. “I’ll be there in a minute then,” Alexander assured her.

She nodded then vanished behind the door again. Alexander

leant down to his chest of worldly belongings and opened it. On top

there lay a crimson cloak weaved from phoenix feathers, the

material brilliantly bright and beautiful. He leant down and removed

the cloak throwing it over his shoulders as he rose to his feet again.

The cloak gave off a pleasant heat due to its magical properties, it

was a very soothing feeling.

As he moved through the narrow passageways to the council

chamber the crimson cloak blew about him, causing him to look

like some sort of fire spirit wandering the streets.

The building that housed the council chamber was one of the

biggest and oldest trees in the city. It was a giant willow bigger than

most noblemen’s homes. A shimmering light emerged from its top

between the hanging leaf covered vines. There Alexander knew thecouncil was waiting for him.

“Ah Alexander, good. They are waiting for you,” the Taplien

who had gotten guard duty croaked before the willow’s doorway.

“Thanks Emmet,” Alexander nodded his thanks beneath the

crimson cloak’s hood.

The inside of the willow was gorgeous, everything seemed to be

built out of willow vines, from the furniture to the enormous

spiralling staircase. Candles hung from the walls from mini

chandeliers resembling willow trees. As Alexander made his way

up the staircase he gazed in wonder at the brilliant water paintings.



“You mean you found a way for me to learn the arts of the

Angelians without an Angelian to teach me?” Alexander asked

flabbergasted. He found it difficult to believe that anyone could find

an answer to a question not even Dante could answer.“Yes,” Buffo said simply.

“How?” Alexander asked after he realised no one was going to

elaborate.

“There is a place to the south, near the Last Point of Civilisation.

No one has known of this place in over six thousand years,” Buffo

started explaining and Alexander suddenly understood. If it was

past the Last Point of Civilisation, very few people would know

about it. No one knew what laid beyond the mountains to the south,

on occasion some brave explorer would attempt to find out, but

none ever returned to tell their heroic tales.

“What lies there that can help me?” Alexander asked with a

childlike hope blooming inside him.

“There lays a place built by Angelus himself,” Alexander moved

to the edge of his seat, “this place is known as the Pillars of

Knowledge. There you will find more knowledge than in all thelibraries in Anarchos. The Pillars have recorded everything since

the dawn of our world, and thus they will hold the secrets of your

people as well.”

“And you know the position of these Pillars?” Alexander looked

at Buffo with amazement. Only someone who has lived over nine

thousand years would know something like this, which would

explain Dante’s lack of knowledge on the subject.

“Not the exact position, no. But I know what you must look for

in the mountains in order to find it. Once you find the Pillars you

will know everything your uncle does about Angelian abilities and

more,” Buffo explained.

“Then I will find it, no matter what it takes,” Alexander

promised, fighting back fervent desire to rush off to the Pillars

without a second thought to how he would make it there.

“Then listen well,” Buffo lent forward on his chair balancinghimself with his staff , “the Pillars are beyond the Last Point of

Civilisation, in the mountains of snow and nightmare. Before you



3The beginning of a new journey

Alexander had to exercise inordinate amounts of self-control as not

to start sprinting back to his room in order to pack his things. He

felt completely revitalized now that he once again had a destination,

now that he once again had a plan. And once he reaches the Pillars

and learns all he needs to know about the Angelian powers that laydormant inside him, he would be able to rescue Dante and Merrick,

he was sure of that.

“That was quick,” Ashena said as Alexander entered the house

again.

“Yes it was,” he agreed not looking at her as he spoke. “I am

going to go upstairs to pack. I’m leaving soon.”

“I guessed that you would say that when you returned,” Ashena

said, her voice quivering more than usual.

The sudden emotion in Ashena’s voice made Alexander pause

as he reached the stairs to his room. As he turned to face her he

said, “I will miss you Ashena. You really made this place feel like a

home to me,” he paused to steel himself a bit more, “and that is a

hard thing to accomplish for someone like me who has never really

known a home, not since I was a child.”

“Oh Alexander,” Ashena said with a tear in her eye as sherushed to hug him. Her head rested on his stomach as her arms

closed around his waist. Tenderly Alexander closed his arms around

her neck and squeezed back.



“Now go and pack boy. I’ll fix you some food you can take on

the road. It’s not an easy path back to civilisation from outside our

village,” she said patting Alexander’s hand and turning to the

kitchen with a sniff.Alexander would truly miss Ashena, he thought as he closed his

room’s door behind him, the sound of scuttling in the kitchen fading

away. She was one of the kindest creatures he had ever met, a

motherly nature about her that made anyone comfortable around

her.

With a sigh he stared around at the room he had occupied for the

last few months. Packing would not be hard, nor would it be a long

drawn out process.

In fact it took Alexander all of an hour to be fully ready to go,

with his armour on and the satchel bearing his books and potions

strapped on safely. Shadow and Ghost were hanging in their

scabbard from his side and his cloak was flung around his

shoulders, the hood drawn back.

The alchemy set with the black bubbling potion inside it still

stood next to the wall however. It was far too big to be carried alongon the kind of journey that lay ahead.

He also left the trunk before his bed that was filled with his

clothes, most of which had been made for him by Ashena. One

spare shirt and pair of pants would have to suffice for this trip,

without a horse the trunk would be just a big burden.

“Alexander?” the ancient voice of Buffo asked from behind the

door.

“Come in Buffo, it’s not locked,” Alexander called as he slipped

his silver dagger into its scabbard strapped to his boot.

“You were in such a hurry when you heard about the Pillars I

was afraid I might be too late,” Buffo said walking into the room

resting most of his body weight on his cane, a small green

something held in his free hand.

“Like I would leave without saying goodbye to you Buffo,”

Alexander lied. In fact he was so caught up in the excitement ofhaving a plan once again that he had completely forgotten about

anyone and everyone still in the village.



“I would hope not,” Buffo gave a small giggle then made his

way over to the lily pad bed and sat down with a groan of relief. “I

brought you a little parting gift,” he added holding out his hand

clutching the green thing.“What is it?” Alexander asked looking quizzical as he held out

his hand.

Buffo dropped the green thing into Alexander’s hand, who then

stared at it in confusion. Resting in the palm of his hand was a small

woollen knit frog.

“It’s a Grylio-Pouch. It’s made from a very old magic. And one

of the most dead useful things you will ever own,” Buffo explained.

“Uhm, what does it exactly do Buffo?” Alexander asked turning

the Grylio-Pouch over and over in his hands. It looked pretty

realistic for a woollen copy Alexander had to admit, but there was

no function he could think of putting it to, except maybe keeping

two gold coins in its mouth.

Buffo smiled at him then pointed at Alexander’s trunk with his

cane, “Point the grylio at the trunk then say ‘voro trunk’”

Alexander pointed the pouch’s knit head at his trunk then saidloudly, “Voro trunk.” As Alexander said the words the grylio

opened its mouth, and shot forth a long pink tongue that wrapped

itself ten times around the trunk. Then with speed very unlikely for

such a small object, the trunk was pulled towards the grylio which

opened its mouth wide and swallowed the trunk in one gulp.

Alexander stared incredulously at the pouch, his eyes not

completely believing what they had just witnessed. Opening the

mouth of the grylio he stared inside it, hoping to catch some sort of

glance at his trunk, but all he saw was a pitch black void.

“Dimension magic?” Alexander looked up at Buffo with his

look of incredulity increasing. Buffo only smiled as he nodded.

“Most wizards believe that dimension magic is only a myth and that

it never truly existed.”

“As I said, it’s made from a very old magic. It was given to me

on my fourth birthday by my grandfather who had gotten it from hisfather and so on. I figured you could make a little more use of it

than I.”



“This is amazing Buffo, thank you so much,” Alexander said

still staring in awe at the grylio.

“It’s a pleasure my boy,” Buffo smiled. “Now just remember

that you need to remember what you call the objects you store inthere. The grylio will only relinquish an object you name correctly.

That’s why it’s better to keep it simple like with the trunk.”

“How do I get it back now anyway?” Alexander asked.

“Just point it away and say ‘odio trunk ,’” Buffo explained.

Alexander tried it, and as he said, “Odio trunk ,” the pouch spit

out the trunk with the same speed it had swallowed it.

“So I can basically store it under any name, I will just need toremember what name I gave it when I want it back again?”

Alexander asked as he replaced the trunk inside the grylio.

“Precisely,” Buffo nodded, “there are still a few items of mine in

there I dare say. But they have been in there for so long that I can’t

remember what I called them when I put them in there.”

“Things like what?” Alexander asked looking at Buffo in a

mischievous way.

“Mostly books, some very good pipe weed, and I think my

grandfather lost a puppy in there once.”

“How did he manage that?” Alexander asked aghast at the

image of a puppy alone and starving inside the grylio suddenly

dancing in front of his eyes.

“He wasn’t supposed to have the puppy in the house you see,

and when his mother walked in he quickly had the grylio swallow it

before his mother could see. In his haste, however, he mumbledsomething quite different to what he had intended and he could

never again come across the exact words,” Buffo laughed but when

he saw Alexander’s expression of shock he added, “Oh don’t worry

about the puppy boy, it is still perfectly safe in there. Wherever it is

the grylio stores its objects, it seems to be a place without time. If

we should ever get the dog out of there it will think no time has

passed whatsoever.”

Alexander stared down at the grylio again. Buffo was right, it

was one of the most amazing and useful things he owned now.



“Voro Alchemy,” Alexander said, the pink tongue of the grylio

encasing the entire alchemy set and swallowing it into its storage

dimension.

“Is that all your things then?” Buffo asked looking around at theroom.

Alexander paused, a sudden expression of darkness on his face.

“One more thing,” he said. And without a sideway glance at Buffo,

he moved to the far end of the lily pad bed. Sticking his hand

beneath it he rummaged for something, and after a minute or so he

seemed to have it. He pulled out a long thin package wrapped in

cloth.

Then kneeling Alexander tenderly took the arrow from the

wrappings and placed it inside the Grylio-Pouch.

“Does that arrow carry some sort of special meaning?” Buffo

asked softly.

“Yes,” Alexander stood up again, “vengeance.”

Then he strode to the door and held it open for Buffo to pass

through. Clearly Buffo understood Alexander was not prepared to

answer any more questions about the arrow because he just got upfrom the bed and strode through the door while saying, “I can’t

remember the last time the people of this village have been this

emotional you know. You really do seem to have crawled into

everyone’s hearts.”

“Oh and you’re not going to miss me then?” Alexander asked

playfully.

Looking back at him with a sly smile as they walked down thestairs Buffo asked, “Who are you again?”

“Stop lying you old bullfrog!” Ashena scolded Buffo as she

placed what looked like a ball of seaweed into a basket.

“Maybe I should leave as well,” Buffo grumbled under his

breath, “what say you lad, have any room in your company for an

ancient old bullfrog who can barely walk a mile without needing to

sit down?”

Alexander laughed, “I think the pace I will be travelling at will

be a little too much for your old bones.”



“Besides, you would probably die from lack of comfort if you

set even one foot outside our village,” Ashena added handing the

basket to Alexander.

“Comfort!” Buffo laughed hysterically. “Do you think it’scomfortable for someone of my age to look after a group of tadpoles

like you? Well I tell you it’s not.”

“Oh please all you do is sit in a chair and say yes or no to

everything all day long,” Ashena countered.

Alexander smiled at the quarrelling pair as he placed the basked

full of food on the ground. “Voro food” he said pointing the grylio

at the basket. Instantaneously it was swallowed up safely into the

pouch, which Alexander then strapped to his satchel.

“You try doing my job and I’ll do yours and I’ll show you how

easy it is,” Ashena continued arguing with Buffo.

“It is exactly because of stupid suggestions like that, why I am

in charge and not you,” Buffo said sticking out his long sticky

tongue and striding out of the house.

“You had better run you old fool! I’ll kill you someday I swear

it!” Ashena shook her fist in the air. Then as if no fight had justhappened at all she added to Alexander , “Well goodbye then

Alexander dear. Please do visit us again one day.”

“Definitely,” Alexander hugged her, and then not wishing to

prolong the goodbye he strode from the house after Buffo.

But as he walked through the door and into the light from the

burning torches Alexander found that more than just Buffo was

waiting outside Ashena’s house for him. What looked like the entirevillage stood outside, all of them looking particularly crestfallen.

“I told you they were all emotional. So I told them all to come

and say goodbye to you,” Buffo giggled a mischievous laugh.

Alexander’s heart swelled at the sight of all the Tapliens who

had come to see him off, all the sad yet smiling faces that hugged

him and said how badly they would miss him.

“There is one gift that we all have decided to give you,” one of

the Tapliens who Alexander recognised as the master painter said.

He beckoned for two of his assistants to come forward carrying a

huge tarp covered with a white cloth.



“You have seen the council house where the paintings of all the

great Tapliens adorn the walls,” he waited for Alexander to nod

before continuing, “We have all come to agreement that it is time

for a new painting to join all those greats.” Then with a flurryingmotion the painter pulled the white cloth from the tarp, to reveal a

life-sized painting of Alexander. He was standing dramatically in

the middle of a lake in a storm with pillars of ice forming all around

him.

“We acknowledge you now as not just one of us, but as one of

our greats,” Buffo said slapping Alexander’s back with a webbed

hand.

“All he needs. Another ego boost,” the chiming voice of awoman said from behind them.

Alexander turned to see Helena standing next to a traveling pack

and dressed for a journey.

“I sent a message to her to tell her of your departure,” Buffo said

to Alexander’s confused stare.

“You still have a debt to repay Alexander, until then I’m not

leaving your side,” Helena said throwing her pack on. “Plus youstill have a lot to learn from me,” she winked.

Alexander smiled then answered, “That I do.” Helena’s presence

would definitely be welcome on the long journey that lay ahead of

them.

“Now that’s enough! It is time for them to go,” Buffo

announced after about half an hour of farewells between the

Tapliens and Alexander and Helena.

Alexander waved back at the crowd of Tapliens as Buffo led

him and Helena to the edge of the village.

A thick white fog always hung around the borders of the village.

Buffo once told him that it was thanks to this fog alone that no one

has found their village in over seven thousand years. Alexander

could not see how mere fog could hide them so spectacularly from

even Cain who surely must know of some sort of spell to track

through fog. But when he had voiced his concerns that day all Buffocould say was, “You will understand the day you leave.”



Now finally he was about to see what it was Buffo had been

talking about. When they reached the swirling white border

Alexander attempted to manipulate some of the mist but found that

he could not.“You’ll need stronger magic than simple Ecokinesis,” Helena

said at Alexander’s shoulder.

“Ergo what?” Alexander asked looking confused.

“Ecokinesis, the manipulation of elemental forces. Surely you

knew that is what it was called when you wielded the elements,”

she looked incredulously at Alexander.

“Dante just called it wielding,” Alexander shrugged. “Perhaps the term has fallen out of use with your people. I

would not know having been alone for who knows how many

thousand years.”

“I thought you left the Taplien village every now and again to

hunt?” Alexander enquired.

“The things I hunt, I usually hunt alone,” she said simply.

“Enough,” Buffo cut in as they came to a standstill, “are youready? I can close it only for so long.”

“Close what?” Alexander squinted at the fog, thinking there was

some sort of drawbridge there just out of site in the swirling white

veil.

“The dimension door,” Buffo explained.

“We are in another dimension?” Alexander exclaimed looking

around him in shock. Everything suddenly seemed twice as odd to

him with this shocking revelation.

“Not exactly, we are merely hiding behind another dimension,”

he pointed to the fog. “In other words I need to close that dimension

for the two of you to pass into the swamp.”

Alexander thought about this statement for a moment but then

decided to just let it go. The stories he had heard from Dante about

dimension magic always pointed to the fact that only the most

ingenious wizards could understand the premise of dimensionmagic, and only after years of confusing study.



“How will I find you again?” Alexander asked as he stared at

the wall of white next to him.

“You’ll manage lad don’t worry,” Buffo patted Alexander’s

side, “now get ready I’m closing it, and opening your way.”Alexander nodded sadly. He finally understood why the

Tapliens were so sad to see him go. The odds of him finding his

way back here were non-existent.

“Don’t worry,” Helena whispered in his ear as if reading his

thought at that moment, “I’ve left many times and have always

found my way back.”

Alexander wanted to ask her how she had managed to alwayscome back, but before he could manage it he was distracted by the

sudden noise coming from Buffo. It was the deepest and most

rhythmic humming, reverberating off the mist itself. Then suddenly

the mist seemed to lose its density, it still hung thick and moist in

the air but at least you could see.

“Go. It won’t stay like that for long,” Buffo hurried them.

And so Alexander started walking forward with Helena on his

heels, the moist smell of the mist filling their nostrils. As the mist began to thin around them Alexander looked back at Buffo. The old

Taplien was placing a tentative foot over the border of his village

and almost like someone testing a river’s water and finding it too

cold to swim pulled back his leg immediately.

A smile creased Alexander’s face, but a heavy weight seemed to

settle on his heart. The short-lived peace he had known with the

Tapliens was gone now; he would not know peace again for some

time.

path of power: book 2: the book of dawn and dusk by h. o. de jonge

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