Chapter 2. The Fall of the House of Blach.

I'm the one you never see, in the dead of night,
Peeking in your window, staying out of sight,
Go to bed, lock the door, don't look in the mirror,
What if I was right behind you,
Smiling like a killer
(Motorhead - Smiling Like A Killer)

Caspar Blach took a handkerchief and wiped his face once more. Trying to catch his breath, he looked at the cupboard they hauled into the classroom – it stood slightly out of place. It was a bit too late to push it in place – both Stephan and Carl already ran away and the damn thing is too heavy to move it by himself. To hell with it, he did what was asked of him – now he can go home. It took an hour and a half as it is. Generally nobody cared when he returned home from school, unless it was really late – he’s a grown-up after all. Even if his official adulthood would come in the spring, his family had a different outlook on the situation…
He didn’t attend to school for the last two months – the official reason for that was severe pneumonia, his family even took time to forge all the necessary documents. Now Caspar thought that real pneumonia wouldn’t be such a disgusting and sickening experience as what he had to endure in reality. And that was the transplantation of his father’s magic crest, the procedure he was being prepared for since early childhood…
Ever since the day his brother died.
...it was inevitable and definitely unpleasant. Many years his parents fed or injected him various types of alchemical shit that should have reduced the chances of rejection. Nevertheless, they were still high. And much to Caspar’s dismay, the procedure had some unwanted complications, which were dealt with over the course of six weeks. At the end of all that torture he acquired the family Magic Crest, which coiled around his arm like a snake. Now he was a full-fledged magus from an old and noble blood line. Caspar couldn’t boast about the number of his circuits – he didn’t even have the average thirty – and his elemental attunement was nothing special either, just fire. Nobody would be impressed with that for sure. Then again, he never really wanted to stand out from the crowd – why bother? The Clock Tower would grant him everything he deserves to have solely by his birthright. Of course he’d have to leave the mundane world for a very long time and that thought made him sad. Still, Caspar knew that home education would never be enough to strive for something significant or to leave a mark in the history.
Walking outside, Caspar looked at his watch once more. He was indeed late, better hurry. While his human teachers were considerate of his illness and the need to recuperate, he couldn’t expect such mercy from Maximillian Blach. His father took Caspar’s education very seriously and made every effort not to waste a single minute of his spare time. He understood of course, that his son has the right to take a walk every so often and have a chat with the people he will probably not see in a very long time, but he’d never miss an opportunity to lecture him about what is really important for a mage.
Blach was already going to head for the bus stop when a familiar voice called him. He turned around and tried to come up with a reason why he would need to go home when he saw who it actually was and decided to make an exception. Ellie was some half a year older than him and she was one of those people he was actually going to miss. He liked her, but unfortunately she happened to be born of mundane blood so he always knew how hopeless his feelings were. The thought of it was painful, yet he understood that nothing can be done and didn’t even try to get into a relationship, closer then what a magus could afford to have with a human. His family was a dogmatic one through and through – he could never cast his lot even with a magic bearer he had feelings for, let alone a member of mundane folk. For numerous generations all marriages in his family were made only with the thought of improving the bloodline. Sometimes they even employed the services of the families, who made it a business to provide a promising marriage partner for magus bloodlines. Since childhood Caspar knew that the same fate awaits him too and was content with it. He didn’t want to complicate his life further by trying to resist. He saw many human girls like her and his feelings faded each time. This one is no different, he told himself – he would forget her as soon as he leaves for London.
-I thought you already left. – He said tiredly. – Did something happen?
-Some loon was looking for you. – Ellie replied. – He almost clawed onto me, imagine that.
-What loon are you talking about?
-I thought you’d know, - she smirked. – Blonde hair, white dandy suit, gloves… a tall, handsome type. Looked at his golden watches all the time, by the way.
-Don’t know anyone like that. – Caspar answered, stunted. – Did he mention a reason why he needs me?
-He caught me on the street, asking whether I study here or not. When I said “yes”, he started asking about you, sounding so impatient. The man seemed like really interested about how your business is going. Asked if you still live at the old place.
-So did you...
-Yeah I told him your address, so what? You think I shouldn’t have?
-Doesn’t matter now anyway. – Caspar sighed. – Thanks for the heads-up; I’ve no idea who was that man...
-Really? – She didn’t hold back the laughter. – He seemed strange. Is there something you want to tell me?
-No. – Blach was pissed off. – Thanks again and bye, I’m heading home.
-You look pale… are you alright?
-Yes. Don’t worry about me. Here’s my bus...
-Wait, I’ve just remembered something! – Caspar was ready to run for the bus stop, but she stopped him again. – Last thing he said, before heading off… he said…
-What? Sorry, I don’t wanna miss the bus, make up your mind quick. – Caspar touched his bag belt nervously.
-He was going away already, but I think I heard him saying “Time to call Abel to the fields”. Bullshit, right?
-Sure. – Caspar exhaled, feeling cold sweat on his brow. – See you tomorrow, Ellie. Good luck.
-Hey, what if…
But he wasn’t listening to her already. He dashed across the bus stop and into the vehicle, even a little surprised by his swiftness. In the bus, Caspar quickly found a free seat and dropped himself into it.
Keep calm. It’s only three stops before his house. He’ll get there real fast. Then – tell everything to father, he must now what’s happening. Maybe it’s simply one of his colleagues from the Association – so what that he doesn’t work there for who knows how long – maybe it’s…
It’s time to call Abel to the fields.
What… Who…
His mind was racing, confused, jumping from one thought to another. Caspar paid for his ticked and stared outside, trying to keep the worries out of his head.
One stop was behind him, two more to go… only two more and he’s home…
The evening was quiet, too quiet. Caspar suddenly thought he wants to see more people in the streets – if something were to happen, maybe they could…
Dear lord, what is it that can happen? He can defend himself, he’s a magus after all, not some sniveling human, why does he shiver like a little kid – just like that one, who just happened to drop his ice-cream on the ground and cries.
And near that kid…
Caspar felt he was about to scream.
A strange man, was crouching near the kid, giving him a lone banknote. Then, he stood tall and looked at the bus – no exactly at Caspar, whose face was pressed against the window.
He was wearing a perfectly-ironed white suit, black shoes and black tie. A clock chain was hanging from his chest pocket. Blonde hair and pale face with sharp features, somewhat resembling a rat. His thin lips were stretched in a smile, his large eyes…
Even here Caspar could see that his pupils were flickering with strange colors – as if some little sparks were slowly coalescing into a flame. The man’s smile grew even wider and he slowly waved his hand to Caspar. His lips moved, but Blach couldn’t read what he was saying.
Somewhere ahead the traffic lights turned green and the bus rolled forward, carrying Caspar away as the man in white receded in the distance.
Home. I wanna go home. Wanna go home. Please, I wanna be home now so bad.
The moment the bus stopped at the Blach household, Caspar rushed out, pushing other passengers aside with his elbows. He made it across the stone-padded walk with a few jumps, ran up a short stairway…
Keys, keys, where are the damn keys?!
The door swung open. His father was standing on the doorstep, dark and brooding as a thundercloud.
-I...
-Get inside, quickly. – hissed Maximillian Blach. – We don’t have much time.
Literally falling in through the doorway, Caspar dropped his bad on the floor and was already going to tell his father about the weird mage who stalked him – the mage who carelessly activated his Mystic Eyes in front of so many potential witnesses – but, looking around he understood that there was something wrong going on in the house regardless of that.
All curtains on the windows were closed, as were the gratings outside. The walls were covered with flickering seals – the kind of magic so powerful Caspar never saw it in action before in his life, he only read about it in the old grimoires. Antiquate knight armor – the six suits that stood in the hallway for a long time – were piled up near the entrance as if those old wrecks were going to defend the mansion. Caspar barely recognized his mother’s voice upstairs – she was reciting a long powerful spell in an unnatural cold steely tone. At the same time he heard some growling or bubbling, maybe both…
-Upstairs. Now. – said his father while locking the door.
-What… what’s happening?
-No talking! – Maximillian roared in return. – Go to my office, there, on the table you will find a phone number, under the glass… on the left… a piece of paper.
-I don’t get it…
-You don’t have to. Just do as I say.
There weren’t many people who would go and argue with Maximillian Blach, even among those who didn’t know about his true nature. To put it simply, he was a massive grunt, whose shoulders were wide enough to nearly rip his suit apart. His sight alone was often enough to make people think twice about crossing his way. He was a dangerous man to underestimate as his huge hand were equally capable of both weaving complex magecraft and snapping somebody’s neck. He’s rough hair was always cut short and his face was seldom alight with a sincere smile or any other sings of emotions for that part. Now, however, he looked pained and exhausted so much that he didn’t even try to hide it.
-Call that number and say that we need help immediately. Then, go to your mother and help her set up the barrier.
Caspar was afraid of his father. But now something horrible was happening, something he didn’t understand at all – and that scared him even more. He fully understood what would happen if he were to disobey, but still he stood there like a statue. He just couldn’t move a limb.
-For god’s sake are you going to stand here like that?! – Elder Blach screamed. – I give you one damn minute to get the hell out of my sight or you will regret it!
Caspar didn’t even twitch, frozen with fear. He still could speak, however and didn’t hesitate to ask:
-Is it all because of that mage in white?
-Did you see him? Where? Where?! – his dad lifted and shook him in the air like a rag doll. – Where did you see’em? Answer me!
-In the street… when I was riding the bus… he waved hand to me. He had Mystic…
-Bastard. – Maximillian hissed, pushing his son aside. – That little sly peace of shit. Had to finish you off back then…
-Who is he? – Caspar asked, mustering all his courage. – What does he want with us?
-He’s your elder brother Albert. – The cold voice of his mother echoed in the room. – And he’s here to kill us all.

They called him Candle. He had a real name of course – Freri Lann – but he haven’t heard that name for a very long time, particularly because everyone who knew it was long dead. Except those the big shots from the Clock Tower, whom he faithfully served some day. Well, he did serve a lot of different people, after all…
His skin had the color of the cheap candle wax. It was even less pleasant to touch – anyone unlucky enough to brush against Freri’s skin felt as if he had just touched a toad or a snake – an absolutely disgusting feeling. People didn’t like it – people generally dislike things that don’t resemble their own kind, especially when such a “thing” has such untouchable skin, watery eyes and light gray hair with a texture of bast. Freri didn’t hold a grudge against people. He understood very early that humans are a stupid and cruel kind. And their children are the cruelest. It was them who lobbed stones at little and took out his left eye. The day it happened Freri Lann suddenly understood a few things. He understood, for example, that their skulls are so very fragile and their blood tastes even better than chocolate he once stole from a candy store…
Freri never felt any guilt over what happened. His mother was guilty for not caring about her lovers enough to get tangled up with that… abomination which was his father. She was also guilty, beyond any shadow of doubt, for not disposing of her child, but bringing him into this cruel and uncaring world. He had no place here. But Freri didn’t hold a grudge against her either. Not since the day he came back home and found her lifeless body hanging under the ceiling on a washing line. That day he even cried – for the last time in his long, but certainly not a happy life.
-One more cup of tea, please. – Freri curled his lips in a smile, taking care not to show his sharp teeth to the waitress.
The girl nodded and hurried away, trying not to look at Freri’s face, while he unfolded the map of the Blach mansion before him.
Freri Lann never went on a job without preparation, as he knew that many battles are won long before their beginning, if one has wits to scout ahead and not fuss around. Such attitude saved his skin more than once during the time he work with the Clock Tower. This was no different: first of all Freri gathered as much information as he could on the target he was going to tail.
The Blach dynasty was ancient, powerful and very respected within the Association. They were not an aggressive lot and rarely had the Association worry about them. Nevertheless, if someone were foolish or reckless enough to seriously provoke the Blachs – they always retaliated swift and deadly. Nobody knew the path to the Origin they practiced – the Blach family kept it’s key research secret. But it was widely known that they also practiced necromancy and had a great mastery in the art of conjuring all sorts of powerful familiars. Blach dynasty was tightly holding on to their roots and it wasn’t until very recently that they started to implement modern technology – if only the kind which could assist with their work, so one would be hard-pressed to find anything akin to a TV-set in their house. After thoroughly studying everything he had on the methods Blachs to deal with their foes, Freri once again noted that they are a formidable target which should not be underestimated. What few enemies Blach family did have – mostly those who desired to seize their secrets – lost time after time. Dispatched familiars and assassins didn’t return, traps turned on those who set them up… Blachs had a rule to always fight without holding back. They always struck once – no follow-up was necessary.
The Blach Mansion was an old and elegant building. Even though it seemed weathered and shaky, in fact it was a very tough nut to crack. Freri made a few attempts to scout in there, posing as a newspaper delivery boy, then as a postman, and lastly – as a specialist from a phone company. The last visit gave him a perfect opportunity him to install the wiretaps and from then on know everything about their phone calls. Freri learned everything. It wasn’t hard to calculate the positions of the most obvious magic traps, thanks to his heightened sense for such things. He also remembered where each window leads and how many exits does the building have, including the secret ones. Freri knew which alley is the best to hide in, frequency of the cop patrols in the area and when do the people in the surrounding houses go to sleep and wake up. At night he used sharp-sighted bird familiars, which were hiding in the trees around the mansion.
Freri took his sweet time – his client said he had no need to hurry and otherwise was quite respectful of Freri. Freri was not really respected by anyone since his childhood, so his client’s unusual demeanor has earned him a certain measure of trust. Such trust from Lann wasn’t easy to earn, not by any stretch of the imagination. Freri didn’t hurry, but the scout runs and other preparations were finished yesterday. Today, he studied the map of the Blach mansion for the last time, the one he was drawing the whole night, using his client’s knowledge of the house as well as his personal observations from the outside.
-Your tea. – The waitress has put the cup on the table and swiftly hid herself in the service rooms, trying hard not to stare at her silent client.
-Thanks, - Freri mumbled, pointing his finger at the map, lost in thought.
Guest rooms, host bedrooms, a big kitchen, the current family head’s office, and a large library – its windows were protected by a fairly modern alarm system without an ounce of magic whatsoever – deep inside the mansion were the laboratory halls and summoning rooms…
-Still busy with your paperwork? – Freri heard a smug voice, to which he still couldn’t get quite used to.
Without bothering to ask, Lann’s client seated himself across the table and pulled the map towards him.
-Enough, Freri, leave it already. Everything is ready. – He took a watch on a chain out of his pocket, smiling.
-I know. One last overview before we start. – Replied Candle – You know, in case I’ve forgotten something…
-You know you didn’t. – his companion talked in a calming voice. – I think you’ve learned everything by heart long ago. I think we should seize the moment and relax while we can. Before the blood starts to flow.
-Alright, alright. – Freri sipped some tea. – Where have you been?
-I paid a visit of friendship to my dear brother. I haven’t seen him for such a long time…
-So you didn’t heed my advice after all. – Freri sighed. – You’re complicating my job...
-The whole mansion is on high alert since yesterday anyway. They are reinforcing their defenses so we can’t afford to wait any longer - we risk taking on the guys from the Association. We shall make our move tonight. Oh and by the way, that visit was more than necessary, Freri.
-Pry tell me, how so?
-Let them conjure their familiars and lay traps, let them put up barriers and walls. Let them arm themselves to the teeth for all I care. My brother will demand explanations and they will have to provide them. We’ll wait till dark, Freri. Let them tell him the truth, infect each other with doubts, fears and mistrust, let those feelings grow and spread. And then, we shall come to kill.

The wall clock read 11 p.m. Caspar Blach sat on his bedside, holding head with his hands – he was sitting like that for half an hour already – looking straight at the floor. Only the sound of the clock ticking across from him held his mind in reality. The reality where he was so cruelly deceived.
If it wasn’t for mother, who insisted that Caspar has the right to know, his father would, most likely, send him upstairs without telling anything, possibly after a couple of cracks to snap him out of the stupor. That way, he would still be in blissful ignorance about the whole story. He wouldn’t know who was coming for his blood. But Maximilian Blach listened to his wife’s words and grudgingly told Caspar the truth.
-Albert didn’t die that day. – His father’s voice was hollow, he struggled to find the words. – he was alive when the executor brought him to me.
-Then why? – Caspar shouted. – Why did you… what did you do to him?
-He overestimated his abilities gravely. He reached out to the power he had no hope of controlling. You see, you brother was a huge coward since the day he was born. He was afraid of everything and everyone, always thought somebody is going to hurt him. Of all the things magic could have given him, he was most interested in defenses and protection techniques. He studied wards, barriers and abjurations of the most powerful and complex kind with utmost fervor. Casting any of them was far beyond him at that time, of course, but he learned the theory behind them through and through.
-I don’t understand. What happened that day…
-When he got into that mess, he thought he’d be killed for sure. He later told me he panicked. And so he tried to weave the strongest shielding spell he knew. You have to understand, that magic – it is beyond capabilities of many mature and experienced magi. And Albert… well, he did have the potential, but it was nowhere near enough by itself.
Maximilian Blach fell silent for a long time. Caspar thought he’d never hear the rest of it, but his mother continued.
-His circuits couldn’t take that colossal stress. He burned through the entire lifespan of his magic circuitry in mere seconds. After Albert burned out, he was but a hollow husk.
-Executor, who took him, called and made an appointment. – Maximilian Blach spoke again. – He told me the truth immediately. Rarely a magus can survive that. And those who can, regret it for the remainder of their lives.
-That night you told me he died. – Caspar hissed, feeling ager welling up inside him.
-He did die. Magus Alber Blach was no more. – his father replied coldly. – he was paralyzed, but there was a kind soul among the executors – their healer did all he could. Still… nobody could return what was lost that night, nobody in the whole world. Never again Albert could use magecraft.
-And you threw him out!
-And I was expected to kill him! Murder my own son! – Maximillian Blach screamed, jumping from the coach. – I had to kill, if only to spare him the humiliating, dishonorable fate that has befallen him! It’s unthinkable for a mage!
For a moment Caspar thought father would lash out at him. But instead he just wobbled backwards, painfully sighed and sat back.
-I almost did it. – he said. – I’ve almost worked up the resolve. But Irma wouldn’t let me. What could I do? What? How could I look a fellow magus in the eye if they were to know that my son, my successor had become a useless husk!? A soulless clod, who’d never be able to achieve anything!
-Don’t you say such things about him! – Caspar screamed in return.
-I… I almost did it. His father repeated. – Almost, yes. But Irma pleaded for his life… and he as well. He cried every day when I came to his room. He begged me to forgive him.
-So what did you do to him?
-As soon as he could walk, I took advantage of my connections and sent him away. I’ve sent him to the Sea of Astray, to make sure he stays there forever…
Maximillian Blach fell silent for a while, bracing his heart to continue. Caspar had never seen him like this – for him the figure of his father was an unshakable pillar of solid confidence and personal strength.
-He cried back then too. He knew what kind of life was laying ahead. He sobbed, crawling at my feet, asking not to send him to the Wandering Tomb. And I had no choice. None. I did it because it was the best thing possible in my position.
-You mean all these years…
-Nobody should have found out about this disgrace. Not even you. – Blach senior once again started walking in circles around the guest room. Now you know it. You may be angry, you can hate me, you can do whatever you please. I’ve done what any magus would do in my shoes if he has any dignity. If you to blame me for this, it means you are not worthy of the Blach Magic Crest. It means you are still a child…
Caspar didn’t answer. He had nothing to say… almost nothing.
-Something’s weird here. – He said.
-Oh what exactly? – His father growled back.
-You just said he was left with no capacity for magic whatsoever…
-Exactly. The executor, who took him, called him Hollow. As far as I know, somebody at the Wandering Tomb had heard of it and it was stuck to him ever since.
-How do you know?
-I couldn’t send him letters after what I’ve done. But I had a few contacts there and as a gesture of good grace they took it upon themselves to keep an eye on Albert and occasionally sent me a word about how he’s doing there.
-If Albert is indeed unable to cast magic, then how do you explain the Mystic Eyes he showed off on the streets? – Caspar asked angrily. – If he is indeed such a husk, then why is our whole household turned upside down? What are you afraid of?
-He didn’t escape from the Tomb alone. – Senior Blach answered. – He found a way… or some item… I’m not even sure how’s that possible, but either he managed to somehow get his powers back, or stole enough artifacts to compensate for his personal lack of magical ability. I’ve known about his escape for a long time. I knew it and hoped, more than anybody else, that he would be intercepted at the sea. I was wrong. As soon as he reached the land, his trace was lost. But yesterday… last morning he came here.
-What? Here? – Caspar gasped.
-No. I met him after the walk in the park. Well, not exactly met, I guess… he dashed at me in a car, trying to run me over. When it didn’t work, he turned tail and fled. I recognized him immediately. You said you saw him today on your way back home…
-Yes. He was stalking me, he searched for me. He wanted to tell me something.
-It doesn’t matter anymore. – Caspar’s father interrupted him. – I do not know, how long did he circle us, waiting to strike, but I’m certain that everything will be decided tonight.
-What… are we going to do?
Caspar knew the answer before his father said anything.
-Albert is a tumor on our family. A tumor we need to cut out.
Caspar Blach raised from his bed and came to the window, going against his father’s direct orders. He peered into the night. The windows on the nearby house were dark – they probably went to the country…
He still couldn’t believe it. Albert. To think, that such a kind, quiet person who smiled so often, the one with whom Caspar played chess and most of the time kept losing… Albert held his role and responsibility much more seriously than Caspar ever did. Albert should have become the next head of the Blach family, if he didn’t get into a wrong place at a wrong time, putting the whole mission of the Church’s executors in jeopardy…
He could barely get over his loss. And now, when Albert returned – alive, real – the family is going to kill him off for real.
No. No. This is wrong. He will talk to them, he will… it’s hard on them too after all. Now he understood why his mother cried last night – she heard who was coming home. Now Caspar knew that he can’t trust even the closest relatives – because they’ve been lying to him for so long…
The door creaked, and Maximillian came in, holding a shotgun.
-His truck is outside. – He said. – And our phone no longer works. Albert has decided at last.
Caspar stood up, looking father in the eye, hoping to find there a hope to resolve this without bloodshed. He found none.
-This is for you. – Father left the gun near Caspar’s bed. – Except this time it won’t be like on a hunt.
-I...
-If you feel like not up to do it, then stay here and don’t get in my way. I’ll sort it out myself. – Senior Blach’s voice was like steel. – But if you are going with me, remember this: no warning shots, no attempts to make him surrender. It’s all bullshit. Don’t touch the weapon unless you shoot to kill.
-I...I understand. – Caspar slowly raised the gun. – I’m ready.
-That’s the spirit. – Father patted his shoulder. – You’ve grown to be a real mage after all.
They walked downstairs. There was light everywhere, each damned bulb in the house was lit.
-Where’s mother?
-Upstairs. I doubt he would harm her, but she can’t bring herself to…
-I see.
They took positions in the hall. Caspar occupied the stairs, or – more exactly – the small flat area upstairs, from where the smaller stairs went in all directions on the second floor. Maximillian rolled up the sleeves on his striped shirt and started to slowly swing a small metal disc on a chain. His son didn’t remember seeing that particular trinket before.
-The warning charms are breached! – Irma Blach screamed from the second floor. – He’s passed the outer boundary!
-It has begun. – Maximillian hissed. – Unleash them all!
-Charge! – Caspar’s mother roared and at the same moment dozens of shadows dashed past him. He couldn’t get a good look at them, as they shrieked, hissed and ran straight through the wall.
Something flashed outside the mansion, night’s darkness chased away by a bright flame. They heard crashing and clanging noise, which was followed by two loud claps and a wild scream.
Then, everything fell silent again.
-We got him. – Maximillian said with uncertainty in his voice. – No, it was a bit too easy… Irma! What’s happening?
-I don’t know! – She yelled from upstairs. – They attacked… and…
-And what?
-And I’ve lost them all. In an instant.
-That’s nonsense. – Senior Blach frowned. – Does the barrier hold?
-Yes. – Caspar’s mother leaned out from the doorway. – But I can feel somebody probing it now.
-We need the proactive abjurations, fast. – The head of the family spat the words out.
-I can’t do this…
-Now! – Maximillian snapped.
Irma Blach sighed and returned to her room. Caspar heard three or four short, sharp commands – and once again something flared outside. He knew it was a proactive abjuration his father spoke about. He knew it quite well: a year ago there was a burglar, who tried to rob their house. What was left of him fit into a dust tray.
Same fate befell on Albert…
-Roasted and toasted, you little bastard. – Maximillian said with a smug grin. – Irma, what are you…
A pained screech filled the house from upstairs.
-Irma! What the hell?
-I have no idea! Something retaliated! I’ve barely had time to drop the link to the barrier…
Something retaliated.
Caspar tried his best to keep from shaking.
-He’s breaking through! – Caspar heard clear panic in his mother’s voice. – Where did he get such power?
-Can you hold? – Coldly asked Blach.
-I don’t think so. Oh… one more minute and the barrier will bend back on us like paper!
-Strike again. Torch him.
-Max!
-Do it!
A flash. A scream. And a loud bang.
Caspar’s mother yelled so terribly once might have thought she was being torn apart.
-I can’t hold any more! I have to lower the shield!
-Don’t you dare! – Blach roared.
-He’s power is increasing! We quenching all life in the vicinity if the barrier is not dropped! It will drain the whole area dry! I’m dropping it!
-Don’t you...
This time around there were no claps. The sound from outside the windows was more like an old rag, slowly being torn.
-The barrier is no more. – Caspar’s mother said with a sigh, leaning from the doorway. – I’ve done everything I could.
-Go back and hide somewhere. Don’t open the doors until I tell you to. – Commanded Maximillian Blach, turning to his son in a moment. – Well, it seems we’ll have to put Albert down personally.
They returned on their previous positions and exchanged a few short, strained lines.
-How could he… I don’t understand…
-Me neither. This barrier shouldn’t have fallen. If anything, he shouldn’t have reached it, even.
-Maybe we could try…
-No, Caspar. We won’t talk to him.
Quiet. Too quiet, almost as if after tearing the mansion’s defenses apart, Albert considered his work here done. Blach-junior was going to say something else, when the silence was broken by the roaring of an engine. Caspar suddenly realized, why his brother needed a truck…
-Stand back! – He screamed. – Away from the doors!
Headlights pierced the windows with rays of light. A large truck effortlessly smashed through the mansion walls with a terrifying rumble. Debris flew in all directions. Maximillian whispered something a covered himself with a hand – everything that flew at him crumbled in the mid-air, stopped by an invisible shield. Caspar aimed through the smoke, which filled the hall – somewhere in there he heard the cabin door slap…

Irma Blach fled to her room after losing both her barrier and all familiars. She did her best and now it was upon others to finish the job. Besides, to look at how they are going to…
To see them murder her son…
No. There’s no way to stop it now…
No way at all…
If she were to intervene, they would do the same thing to her… and to make the matters worse, Albert isn’t likely to…
No, the thing, that returned to them after all these years is not likely to show mercy either.
She turned the key for the second time and put it in her pocket with shivering hands. Then, she pressed her back against the closed door, fighting the only desire a mother could have in such a moment – to run back and try to stop them, stop…
But as soon as her back touched the door, even that thought left her mind.
The reason was that she wasn’t alone in her room.
There was a tall man, stripped to the waist, standing near the old fireplace, which hasn’t been lit for five years or so.
Or was he even human?
His sinewy body was covered in scars and it’s skin had an unnatural, sickly color. Long arms had unbelievably thin fingers, and each ended with a small, but hard and pointy claw. His hair was messy and his left eye was covered by an eye-patch. She even saw two rows of sharp teeth…
-Good evening. – The ruffian grinned from ear to ear, taking a small knife from behind his back. – And good night.

-Get ready. – Blach whispered to his son. – Shoot as soon as you see him.
The smoke gradually thinned out. Something clicked in there and then a blond mage in a white dandy suit showed up with a shining smile. It was the same mage, that scared Caspar oon his way back home.
Albert.
-Home, sweet home. – He laughed, throwing his arms wide, as if he was going to hug someone.
Caspar’s fingers went numb – he just couldn’t force himself to shoot
-Is it how you welcome back you beloved son? – Albert stepped forward, still smiling.
Maximillian snapped his fingers.
At this moment all the traps fired at once.
The mage in white was struck by a dozen branchy lightings, which came from the seals on the walls. He was engulfed by a roaring column of fire and, as if it wasn’t enough, all six armor suits went in to chop what was left of their master’s foe.
Maximillian Blach lowered his metal disc, expecting to see nothing but lumps of charred flesh. He was already going to give his son an earful for hesitating to shoot…
-Not bad, dad. Rather good actually. – The smug voice made Maximillian stagger.
How?
How could he…
Albert came out from the smoke and steam – without a scratch. Only his suit and watches were damaged – the charred rags fell from his body and the metal scraps littered the floor.
And then Maximillian saw it.
All his body – from the shanks and up to throat – was covered in shimmering lines, deep fissures carved into his flesh and skin. Those lines spread across his entire body and shimmered stronger and stronger by the minute.
-What… what have you done to yourself? – Blach snapped.
-Oh, lot’s of interesting things. – Albert waved his hand to Caspar. – Greeting, brother! How are you doing?
He didn’t answer – the gun in his hands wobbled from side to side and his teeth chattered.
-You won’t walk away from this. – Blach whispered. – This much I can promise.
-Oh but you shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep. – Albert glanced at the armor suits, shambling at him. – But first of all, call off this old scrap.
-You...
-Do it… or else she’s a dead woman! – Albert made a dramatic gesture toward the stairway. – Candle!
Caspar turned around reflexively and froze in place, when he saw his mother – with a knife pressed against her neck, held by a weird one-eyed ruffian.
-You wouldn’t dare. – Maximillian exhaled, white with anger. – You don’t have the guts to kill your own mother!
-Shoot, Caspar! – rasped Irma Blach.
-Yes, shoot! – Freri roared with laughter.
Caspar felt like he was going to faint any minute. It was far too much to endure for him.
-You say I wouldn’t dare? – Albert smiled again. – Once I thought not to be able to do to myself what you see now, either. And yet…
-What do you want? – Blach had to yield.
-Drop your weapons. Both of you.
The metal disc and the shotgun hit the floor. Armor suits halted a few meters away from the mage.
-And now you will tell Caspar everything. – Hatred flared in Albert’s voice. – Here and now.
-I don’t understand...
-Father? What else did you hide from me? – Blach-junior shouted from the stairs.
-Nothing! – Maximillian bellowed. – Don’t listen to him!
-Tell my brother what fate was awaiting him were I to stay the heir. Tell him. Or else Candle will…
-Never.
-I’m going to count to three. Then her head will roll down these stairs. One…
-No! – Blach screamed. – You won’t dare, you monster!
-Two…
-We’d have to cast you out, Caspar! – Shouted Maximillian Blach.
Albert laughed without restraint.
-What? Dad… - Caspar was at his limit.
-To have more than one progeny in a magus family is very undesirable. The infighting for the Crest is an ever-present menace. – His father’s voice was dulled. – But you two… you were always keeping up with each other, so we couldn’t decide which one we’d keep.
-You’d k-keep? – Caspar stuttered, forcing the words out.
-After some deliberation, we decide it would be Albert. If not for that story he got himself into, we would wipe your memories in about a year and send you into a mundane family. But as he was lost on us, we had to… adapt.
-You… were going to throw me away?
-Yes. – Blach sighed. – There is no other way.
-It means… I…
-Just a backup plan. You were good enough, given the lack of alternatives, but that’s it. – Albert raised his voice once again. – And now you know what it is like to be a magus child. How fun it can be. And how painful!
Caspar stared at his father with his eyes wide-open, unable to believe what he just heard. They… They’d cast him out?
-I told him everything. – Maximilian hissed again. – Now let her go.
-I thought about it. – Albert answered. – You are right about one thing. – I may be a freak, but even I can’t kill my mother with my own hands. Candle!
-No! – Roared Maximilian.
Albert waved his hand. Freri buried his knife in his victim’s neck.
-Mama!
Caspar didn’t even understand where did the strength come from, but it was enough to cover the whole stairway in a few jumps and reach the scum that hit his mother with a knife…
-It’s yours. – Freri pushed the bloodied, dying woman in the back, grinning nastily.
Irma Blach fell on her son and tumbled down the stairs, pulling Caspar with her. Her head was dangling on the last shred of skin and when she reached the floor, the head severed completely and rolled at the feet of Maximillian.
Maximillian Blach has completely lost his speech, snatched the meal disct from the floor and swung it thrice, spooling the chain around his arm. Then his hand shot forward and he barked an arcane formula, pointing at laughing Albert.
-I wouldn’t recommend that. – He said with amusement.
Blach’s hand was glowing, almost burning with power and his spell was supposed to crack Albert’s skull. The result, however, was the entirely different: Blach himself was flung backwards and screamed in pain, as his arm was twisted, broken and bloodied. The bones stuck out and his palm dangled like a rag.
-What are you?! – Roared Maximillian Blach. – Just what the hell are you?!
-I’m your worst nightmare. Candle, take my brother upstairs and pack him. I’m going to need him.
-Caspar, your gun! – Blach cried.
But his son didn’t listen. He was sitting on the floor, looking at his mother corpse with maddened eyes, not paying attention to Freri, who approached him.
-I don’t know what they did to you in the Sea of Astay, but I will end you here. You and that bastard you brought along. – Maximillian Blach finished his line with considerable effort and immediately spoke a sort spell.
His son didn’t intervene for some reason and just watched with a smile.
-You should know this, dad…
-Die!
A shadow jumped from Blach’s fingertips and covered Albert whole. But after a moment it burst with a deafening clap.
-How did you…
-...whoever hurts me, shall be repaid sevenfold.
Maximillian’s skin started to melt away, flowing like wax. Blach screams, like he never screamed in his entire life.
His body falls heavily to the floor, continuing to writhe and squirm there.
-I’ll butcher you… butcher… son of a bitch… kill you…
His screams didn’t last long – his throat eroded from inside.
-I dreamed about this every day on that damned rock. And every damn night. – utters Albert, while kicking his father’s body to his heart’s content. – You see? You’re not scary, dad! Not scary at all.
Albert’s eyes almost pop out and his pretense of disdainful tranquility slips away, revealing true self of the magus – a warped and insane face.
-You’re not scary! Not scary! Not scaaaaaaryyy!! – Albert snaps completely and starts screeching and spattering foam from his mouth, all while kicking and kicking the lifeless body. – How’s that? You like it? Huh? Feel’s good? Answer me! Answer!
Albert kept kicking the body till his leg started to hurt.

Caspar Blach came to his senses. To find out that he is still alive was surprising at first and deathly terrifying, knowing that...
Maybe it was all just a dream?
-Don’t count on it. – Albert’s sinister face appeared above his head. – Perish the thought, old fellow.
-Wait! Wait! – Caspar shouted, crawling towards the wall. – I didn’t know what they’ve done! I knew nothing!
-Ignorance won’t save you. – Albert nodded to his companion and he dropped a large suitcase on the floor.
When it opened, Caspar wanted to faint again. But the darkness didn’t come.
-W-what is it…
-Those are the necessary tools, nothing more. – Uttered Albert. – You see, daddy gave you something that ought to be mine. Yes, I’m speaking about the Magic Crest, my old fellow. Fortunately, in the Sea of Astray, I came upon a correct method of their extraction.
-Ex-ext-raction…
-Forgive me, Caspar, but I can’t guarantee that it won’t hurt…