Felix Megistus - Chapter Three

After sorting through the events of the woods, I began documenting my latest encounter in my personal codex. The worn, leather-bound book was filled with notes, sketches, and observations from my countless hunts. I took a moment to collect my thoughts before writing.

"Encounter - 372: A subspecies of tulpa encountered in the forests of Maine. Specifically, a spawn of a previous tulpa that I encountered in the Black Forest. This entity exhibited characteristics of a hybrid between a dark magician from the southwestern United States and a species of man-eating pale beings, akin to a wendigo or strigoi. The creature's form was given life through the modern machine network, feeding off the fears and technological dependencies of mankind."

I sketched a quick diagram of the creature in both its forms, noting its abilities and the methods I used to combat it. Satisfied with my documentation, I closed the codex and set it aside.

My stomach grumbled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten real food since the night before. I made my way to the small kitchen area of my realm and began preparing breakfast.

Deep within my otherworldly sanctuary lies a garden, a place with samples from ancient plants and forgotten herbs. A mere mimicry of the original, that garden long since closed to those with mortal blood. Mine has its own, lesser, treasure trove of primordial fruits and vegetables. 

As I step into the garden, I am greeted by an intoxicating blend of scents—floral, earthy, and sweet. The air is thick with the fragrance of blossoms and ripe produce, a heady aroma that fills my senses and invigorates my spirit. Here, the plants grow with a wild, almost sentient energy, their vibrant hues and unusual shapes a testament to their otherworldly nature.

I selected a few and began to cook, the familiar routine helping to ground me after the chaos of the previous night.

As I ate, my mind wandered to the next step. The spirit had escaped, and I needed to track it down before it could cause more harm. After finishing my meal, I shuffled over to my armillary globe, an ancient device imbued with powerful magic.

I placed my hands on the cold metal, feeling the sigils etched into its surface. With a deep breath, I began to chant an incantation in Latin, invoking the ancient magic to aid me in my search.

"Per vires antiqui, malum invenire. Circumvolvi sphaera, ostende mihi veritatem. Mihi da potestatem ad investigandum tenebras, Ut hostem meum inveniatur."

The sphere whirred to life, spinning faster and faster until it seemed to cut through the very air. I held a needle in my hand, its tip wavering as the magic took hold. Suddenly, it pulled like a magnet, pointing unwaveringly towards a particular location. I focused on the sensation, feeling the magic guide me.

The needle led me to a small village in England, its presence marked clearly on the map that materialized before me. As the spell settled, the needle sank into the locating artifact, pinpointing the exact destination.

"Amesbury," I muttered to myself, recognizing the location. "Right. I'll save energy by using the druids' nexus. But first! preparations."

"Where... are... you... hiding?" I muttered to myself lingering on each word as my eyes scanning the shelves. A cloak of invisibility is a rare and precious item, and I had taken great care to keep mine well-protected.

Finally, I reached a large, ornately carved chest, bound with iron and sealed with a complex array of runes. I knelt down and placed my hand on the lid, whispering an incantation to unlock it.

"Open says me."

The runes glowed faintly, and the locks clicked open. I lifted the lid, revealing the contents within. Inside, folded neatly and glowing with a soft, ethereal light, was Sîfrit's Tarnkappe.

"Ah, there you are!" I said, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. I carefully lifted the cloth from the chest, feeling the subtle hum of its magic. The fabric was light and smooth, shifting colors like an ultraviolet chameleon to blend with its surroundings.

I draped the garment over my arm and stood, closing the chest with a soft thud. As I walked back through the chamber, I couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship of the garment. The fabric had been woven by King Laurin, imbued with the spells of origin for most of the magics we now know as concealment and protection.

With the artifact, I would be able to move through the world unseen, hidden from both allies and enemies alike. It was a powerful advantage, one that I intended to use to its fullest.

Reaching my main living quarters, I donned the cape, feeling its magic settle around me like a second skin. I took a moment to adjust to the sensation, then moved to the armillary globe, ready to continue my search for the elusive spirit.

I grabbed the needle floating above the location of England on the globe. Before leaving my sanctuary, I made sure to check my other gear. My flask of holy water was refilled and secured at my belt, my codex was safely stowed away, and my pockets were filled with various other artifacts and tools I might need.

I activated the sigils on my platform on the edge of my isle. I stood within my faux Aos Sí circle, the ancient stones humming with power. With a thought, I found myself in the otherspace. 

The world around me shifted, and I found myself standing at the entrance of the old giants' ways. The sight never failed to amaze me. The extradimensional walkways stretched out before me, an endless expanse of twisting nature and vibrant shapes that seemed to flow into themselves like an M.C. Escher masterpiece.

Each cobblestone floated irregularly in the air, suspended in a colorful void that defied the conventional laws of physics. The stones glowed softly, their surfaces etched with ancient runes that pulsed with life. Around me, the expanse was filled with twisting vines, blooming flowers of impossible colors, and streams of light that wove through the space like living ribbons.

I stepped onto the first cobblestone, feeling it shift slightly under my weight. The path ahead curved and spiraled, disappearing into the distance. With each step, I felt the walkway respond to my presence, guiding me through the labyrinthine expanse.

As I navigated the old giants' ways, I encountered the occasional practitioner, their forms shimmering like mirages in the distance. We exchanged nods, an unspoken acknowledgment of our shared knowledge and purpose. These practitioners, like me, were adept at navigating this otherworldly realm, each on their own journey through the ancient paths.

The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers and fresh rain, mingling with the faint hum of magic that permeated the realm. The light here was ever-changing, shifting from the warm glow of a setting sun to the cool, serene light of a moonlit night. Each twist and turn of the path revealed new wonders—cascading waterfalls that flowed upwards, trees with leaves that glowed like lanterns, and fields of grass that whispered secrets to those who listened.

I continued my journey, the cobblestones forming a seemingly endless spiral beneath my feet. The path occasionally split into multiple directions, each one leading to a different destination within the realm. Trusting my instincts and the subtle pull of the magic, I chose my routes carefully, ensuring that I stayed on the correct path.

The walkways themselves seemed to defy logic, bending and looping in ways that made it difficult to discern up from down. At times, the path would loop back on itself, creating an optical illusion that left me momentarily disoriented. But with each step, I grew more attuned to the rhythms of the realm, allowing the magic to guide me.

I reached a point where the path branched out into a network of arches, each one leading to a different destination. The arches were adorned with vibrant flowers and twisting vines, their beauty masking the complexity of the choices before me. I paused for a moment, closing my eyes and letting the magic flow through me, guiding my decision.

When I opened my eyes, I knew which arch to take. I stepped through, feeling the familiar pull of the Aos Sí circle as it transported me closer to my destination. The transition was seamless, the world around me shifting and warping until I emerged into a new section of the realm.

Here, the walkways were narrower, lined with luminescent crystals that cast a soft, ambient light. The air was cooler, and the sounds of distant waterfalls filled the space. I could feel the presence of other practitioners nearby, their energy signatures like faint echoes in the magical tapestry.

As I continued along the path, I encountered more wonders—floating islands covered in lush vegetation, ancient ruins hidden beneath cascading vines, and pools of water that reflected the sky in perfect clarity. The old giants' ways were a place of infinite beauty and mystery, a testament to the power and creativity of the ancient beings who had created them.

Finally, I reached the end of my journey. The path led me to a grand archway adorned with runes and symbols of protection. Beyond it lay my destination, a place where I could continue my quest. I stepped through the archway, leaving the old giants' ways behind I teleported myself emerging into the cool morning air of the Salisbury Plains.

Stonehenge stood majestic and timeless, its ancient stones bathed in the golden light of dawn. As I walked, I encountered a few magically veiled practitioners, their forms shimmering as they moved through the nexus doors. Such sloppy spellcraft, I am not even trying to discern the hidden, but their illusions fall short of my perception.

My mind shifted to the task at hand. The needle in my hand spun violent while adjusting to our currently location. It acted like a compass, pointing me towards the village of Amesbury. 

The air filled with the scent of dew-covered grass and blooming flowers. As I crossed over the River Avon, the needle in my hand fell dead, its magic wiped clean by the running water. I sighed, frustrated by the setback.

"Of course," I muttered, pocketing the needle. "Running water, the bane of my existence."

I stood on the bridge, taking in my surroundings. The spirit was close, I could feel it. But without the needle, I would have to rely on my instincts and the residual traces of magic left behind.

With a determined stride, I made my way into Amesbury, the hunt once again consuming my thoughts. The tranquility of the village belied the danger lurking within, and I was ready to face whatever came next. The spirit had escaped once, but it would not elude me again.

I entered the quaint village of Amesbury, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the bustling streets. I uncapped my flask of holy water and took a deep swig, feeling the purifying liquid course through me. The familiar ritual helped steady my nerves and sharpen my senses. I needed to be at my best.

As I walked, the streets came alive with foot traffic. Children played and laughed, vendors called out their wares, and the air was filled with the mingling scents of fresh bread and blooming flowers. A flyer caught in the wind fluttered past me, and with a quick motion, I snatched it out of the air.

The colorful paper read, "Amesbury Super Fête!" The flyer promised games, food, performances, and a grand dog show at the park on the opposite side of town.

"Interesting," I murmured, folding the flyer and slipping it into my pocket. A carnival would be the perfect place for a spirit to hide amidst the chaos and joy.

I continued down the cobblestone streets, inspecting various stalls and vendors. A fruit stand displayed an array of vibrant produce, while a blacksmith hammered away at a glowing piece of iron. The locals seemed cheerful and unaware of the dark presence lurking nearby.

Thanks to the magical veil of my tunic, no one noticed me. The special garment, imbued with ancient spells, allowed me to move unseen among the crowds. It was a useful tool, one I had used many times before.

As I walked, the noise of the carnival grew louder. The sound of laughter and music filled the air, creating a festive atmosphere that belied the seriousness of my mission. I navigated through the throngs of people, my eyes scanning for any signs of the spirit.

Eventually, I reached the park on the far side of town. The dog show was in full swing, with owners proudly displaying their pets' talents. I watched for a moment, the normalcy of the scene almost soothing. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a raven perched on a bench beside a well-dressed gentleman.

The raven's presence sent a chill down my spine. My eyes locked with the man's, and he smiled, a knowing glint in his eye.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mister Megistus," the gentleman said, his voice smooth and confident. "What a lovely little cloak."

I approached cautiously, my hand instinctively moving to the flask of holy water at my belt. "The pleasure is all mine, I'm sure," I replied, my tone measured. "Who might you be?"

The man stood, his raven hopping onto his shoulder. His suit as ebon as his familiar. His smile as white as ivory. He extended a hand, his grin never wavering. "My name is... not important, but what is, is that I've been expecting you."

I ignored his hand, my gaze shifting between him and the raven. "And why, may I ask, have you been expecting me?"

He chuckled, withdrawing his hand. "I have my sources. Let's just say that your reputation precedes you, Mister Megistus. Your recent... activities have not gone unnoticed."

The raven cawed softly, its eyes reflecting a sinister intelligence. I felt a surge of annoyance at the cryptic responses but kept my composure. "I don't have time for riddles. I'm here for the condensate."

His smile widened. "Oh, I know. And I can help you. But first, perhaps we should find a more... private place to talk."

I hesitated, weighing my options. Trusting this man could be a risk, but he seemed to know more than he was letting on. With a curt nod, I gestured for him to lead the way.

We walked away from the park, the sounds of the carnival fading behind us. The raven shifted on his shoulder, its beady eyes never leaving me. I could feel the weight of its gaze, a constant reminder of the danger that lurked just beneath the surface.

As we walked, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being led into a trap. But I had faced worse before, and I was determined to see this through. The spirit was close, and I would not let it escape again.

We reached a secluded alleyway, away from the prying eyes of the townsfolk. The-man-in-black stopped and turned to face me, his expression serious. "Now, Mister Megistus, let's discuss how we can help each other."

I crossed my arms, my eyes narrowing. "I'm listening."

The unsettling smile returned, and I knew then that whatever he had to say, it would change the course of my quest—and perhaps much more. The game was afoot, and I was ready to play.