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Shape of Things to Come
Part 1:In the Fullness of Time Chapter 3
Justice with favour have I always done;
..........(Henry VI Part II William Shakespeare ) |
Just after the celebration of the Birth of Evil was completed, Tempus once again sat on his throne. Behind him stood several priests and leaders of the most influential demon sects, all of them watching, as Tempus knew without turning around, with expressions of anger, distrust and jealousy, as demons always did when they saw someone other than themselves gaining power.
At his feet knelt the new demon Briareos. Tempus was amused at the name he had given the demon because in legend Briareos was a terrible monster who had joined the god Zeus and fought and defeated the Titans, then served at Zeus’ side. He hoped the demons standing behind him understood the symbolism of the name.
The demon kneeling before Tempus, did not have the appearance of a warrior who could destroy Titians, although in its mortal life, it had built its reputation destroying kings. When offered a corporeal demonic form, the demon now called Briareos, had chosen its mortal presence, rather than anything more evil or frightening. It was bald and had a corpulent figure with no evidence of any physical strength, and as it looked up slightly, its soft benign face and narrow cunning eyes could be seen.
One of the higher priests had taken it upon itself to warn Tempus of the dangers of creatures that were comfortable in their own skin, and had no ambitions for more pleasing or awesome appearances. Tempus had turned around raising his hand to strike down the terrified priest, thought about it then waved the shaking creature away. It was a warning he needed to heed.
Tempus had reason to understand why this creature kneeling before him, the first of the evil souls in the great pit to be granted upper level demonhood was comfortable in its mortal skin. That mortal presence had served it well as it terrified other mortals, peasants and kings, and ruled as it chose in the mortal realms. It had also been the first evil soul sent to the pits by the previous source and for more than five hundred years it had suffered as it had watched that source gain power, rule in fear and then be lost.
This demon Briareos was, as Tempus knew, no great warrior. However, like the Briareos of legend it understood how to destroy and kill enemies without ever risking itself. It knew how to create chaos and further its own power from that chaos. It knew how to use the skills, ambitions and resources of the enemies and friends that surrounded it to become richer and more powerful than any of them could have dreamed. Like the Briareos of legend, this new demon that knelt at Tempus’ feet was a monster.
Tempus ordered the kneeling demon to its feet and it unsteadily stood up, gasping awkwardly at the complexities of demon sentience. Behind Tempus, the various priests and sect leaders who were witnessing the new demon struggling with its corporality, smirked and snickered. Tempus allowed them to continue, knowing evil as he did, he understood that vengeance for even the pettiest slights was one of the strongest motivators for creating great demons.
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As the demon Briareos knelt at Tempus’ feet, high in the Himalayan mountains in his hidden retreat, the guardian Proctor, the ex-demon watcher, who saw much of what happened in the known realms and magic worlds, and some others besides, was rather moodily, for him, sitting in front of his roaring fire, nursing a large glass of port. He took very little notice of his surroundings, even the wall at the end of the room in which he sat which was covered in almost liquid screens, hundreds of them, maybe more, that flashed events as they happened. Only a watcher as powerful as Proctor could have seen all flashing events, let alone interpreted them.
Proctor’s dwelling, as were the other safe havens where guardians resided, was a magic nexus hidden from both good and evil. Located high in the mountains, and once a Tibetan monastery, it was a place of solitude and beauty, built on the side of a mountain centuries ago, long before Proctor had turned away from demondom. A relatively small building, its stone walls had the appearance of being carved out of the mountain itself. It had several rooms surrounding a single courtyard on two sides of which there was a small stone wall that was bare protection against falling down the mountain. The building and courtyard were, as they were this day, frequently covered in snow by the winds that were raging outside.
The room used by Proctor to observe the happenings of the magic world was the largest in the monastery. In times gone by it had been a greeting chamber. It had thick stone walls that protected it from the raging storms and snow outside, a dark stone floor covered by very bright woven rugs, traditional to the area and the cold in the stone walls was kept at bay by large woolen tapestries, also traditional to the area. On one wall there was a very large stone fireplace that had great thick metal plates at the back which enabled the fire to throw out sufficient heat to warm even an ex-demon.
Proctor sat in a large wooden chair covered in gaily embroidered cushions, one of several in the room which also contained tables, chests and other furniture that would have been new when Proctor found the nexus six hundred years ago but were now antique. All around the room were items of local crafts, many very old and very valuable. The room also incongruously, contained some very modern comfortable chairs for those times when Proctor had visitors who not appreciate the rigidity of carved furniture.
The guardian was dressed in his customary black, but in his home, he also wore a Tibetan robe, with bright embodied edging. His chair, close to the fire was turned slightly so without moving Proctor could observe the wall of screens at the end of the room. The room was lit only by the flashing screens and the fire light.
This day Proctor was only giving the screens a cursory glance because for some years the magic world had remained in balance, something that always happened in the early reign of a new source. Soon, this would change because the new source would discover how to destabilize that balance and the powers of Good would discover how to counter that instability. For the present, most of the events flashing on the screens were visions everyday lives, and small intimate happenings in magic creatures’ existence.
Generally, Proctor respected the privacy of those lives flashing past on his screens. Sometimes, however, Proctor found himself observing the everyday existence of the demon guardian’s whitelighter Francesca Rinaldi who for over a thousand years had served Good, as one of their wisest beings.
In truth, Proctor tried very hard not to watch Francesca. She knew that watcher that he was, he observed the lives of magic creatures and although she would smile and deny having secrets to hide, his watching did annoy her. Therefore, he gave her privacy, something he could do for someone he loved, a word he could admit to himself in the solitude of his Himalayan nexus. However, occasionally when he had been alone a little too long, he gave into the temptation to just see her.
At this time, he was observing her in an interminable congress with some powers of Good, creatures existing in a higher stratum who saw and understood much more than the witches’ elders, but not high enough to have a real understanding of anything of great importance in Proctor’s view. As was designed by the balance of the magic universe, not long after each magic eclipse, many of the higher levels of Good moved on, fading into another existence, finally leaving behind contact with the realms of their origin, or choosing to undertake roles of greater leadership and keep their connections. This meant that in those early years after the eclipse, congresses such as the one Francesca was attending, consisted of long and sometimes tedious interchanges as those who were new to the honour of serving sought to understand their roles.
As he observed Francesca, he recognised that she was doing her duty guiding those new to this level but she was bored by it all. After her thousand-year existence, Proctor understood that she found the inevitable reflection and postering of creatures who were newer than Francesca to magic and its powers difficult. Francesca, as had Proctor, had heard similar words after the last eclipse. Francesca like Proctor knew that as evil advanced under the new source, Good too had to discover their own wisdom, sometimes gently assisted by that of those who had already travelled the journey. He thought to himself that when the opportunity came, he should ask Francesca’s opinion about the continuous paths of boredom and exploration that magic creatures experienced as the moved through new existences, and higher levels of magic. He doubted however that the opportunity would be soon.
Francesca was the reason Proctor was feeling a little moody and melancholy. She was the centre of his existence, but he was assuredly not the centre of hers, and lately he had not had as much contact with her as he would have liked. Not given her the pleasure of his company, even to annoy her. Because of the stability of the early years after the magic eclipse, there was no reason for her to spend time with him. Having been a guardian for nearly six hundred years, regrettably Proctor knew his role as a watcher, he knew his responsibilities and he rarely needed guidance.
She did not seek his company and he respected her enough to not force opportunities to see her…too much. Francesca as he had observed and tried not to, was at present as content as she could be, given her long life as a guide and wise woman…except when she was attending boring congresses. The loneliness that haunted her existence was kept at bay by her friendship with the Halliwell family, especially her close friendship with Belthezor’s witch, where they shared, as far as Proctor could tell, views on politicians, gossip, discussions on gardening and Phoebe talked about much of the philosophy she wrote in her books. Proctor, as much as Francesca, and far more than Phoebe knew how much of the wisdom of her books was owed to Francesca. Francesca’s friendship with Phoebe and the rest of the Halliwell family was one where they shared the important and the trivial which Proctor had often observed formed the strong foundation of many mortal friendships.
Proctor did not begrudge Francesca her friendships but knew they would not last. Long existing creatures were doomed to say goodbye to those not so long lived and then and only then he could acknowledge, because he was melancholy, she would probably need the pleasure of his company.
Some instinct caused Proctor to glance at the flashing screens. He raised the glass to the image of Francesca and then his attention was diverted by the sight of Braireos as he was granted demon sentience by Tempus. Proctor watched the whole ceremony, noting the new demon’s slyness, the antagonism toward it of Tempus court and Tempus himself preening in the knowledge he was extending his evil. Proctor took a long satisfying sip from his glass and smiled to himself, realising the time where the balance of the magic world shifted had arrived. He raised his glass to give thanks to the new demon Briareos because he observed it was a great evil and very soon, Francesca would need to consult the guardian watcher.
“And so it begins” he said out loud. “Again.”
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