***
The next morning refreshed and ready to meet the day, Arzealous climbed out of his King size bed onto the cold stone floor, as he did so, he reached out to steady himself and inadvertently clutched at the bell rope; a clanging rang out. Quickly attendants appeared and prepared a hot bath for him filled with fragrant rose petals. Once ready he sank into it, the fragrance gave life to his muscular physic, the heat of the water penetrated his bulky frame, relaxing it. As he lay back above the water line, the cold bronze basin sent a sharp chill down his spine. He wondered if Callinicus had stayed up all night in the archives, and whether or not he had discovered anything. A breeze caught the drapes, forcing them to shimmer like clear water; by the side of the tub there was a small table where on a copper platter, some fruit, cheeses, and a fish had been left, and by its side a cup of wine. As the time passed and with the help of the food, vigour slowly crept back into his limbs. Arzealous reached over and took hold of the cup and sipped the wine, its tart taste forced an exaggerated grimace from him. A knock at the door thankfully relieved him of having to pursue the wine further. Quickly he climbed out of the tub put on a robe and answered the door, a steward handed him a note then hurriedly left. Shutting the door, he opened the message, it was from the Emperor: he was ordered to go at once to the entrance to the catacombs, where the Pentarchos and Callinicus would be waiting for him; tragically the Rageon had struck once more.
When Arzealous had exited the palace he left along the Mese, two Stratiotai followed either side of him keeping pace with his hurried steps. He felt responsible for the poor unfortunate who had died, while he had rested; it was a reminder to him of all the innocents that had been lost. Such were his thoughts, as he made his way through the entrance to the Church of the Holy Apostles, the second largest in the city. The Church had a garlanded Iconostasis: it was split into several levels and adorned with icons of Saints, Angels and Apostles. As Arzealous made his way passed the many worn wooden benches and across to the doorway leading down into the Catacombs, he noticed the frescos on the walls of biblical scenes, and the deep smell of Frankincense that infused the air. The Stratiotai in full battle regalia were there waiting patiently for him. They were all tall and thick set, one had a scar that ran from his eye to his cheek. And they were all decked out ready for battle, shields, swords; helms tied tight, wearing thickly layered mail corselets beneath which were red linen tunics, they wore boots instead of sandals, which had long thick breeches tucked into them, and their eyes glinted with determination. Callinicus too was armed, he had with him an elaborate staff with a bronze tip in the shape of a hand that held a crystal: his long robe brushed the floor: hanging from a belt, was a sword that gleamed in the lantern light. At the sight of Arzealous the legionaries hauled their gear over their backs: they expected the expedition and the search not to be a short or easy one.
Access was through a large iron gate, a giant key was thrust into the lock by a monk, it turned with difficulty and slowly, as though it was unwilling to give up its secrets, the gate grudgingly was drawn back. Lantern light greeted hazy ancient gloom, frescos on walls, suggested the tunnels dated from a time when the city had first been dedicated. They would be descending into what were some of the oldest crypts in Constantinople, perfect for a creature such as the Rageon to hide in.
“The Rageon,” began Callinicus, “is a demon of an older age from the darkest of realms.”
“Oh, that’s comforting,” interrupted a Stratiotai who went by the name of Arminius, “and there are only eight of us and not a cohort because?”
“Because that’s all we’ll need,” responded Arzealous waving his lantern in front of a join of three tunnels, he held it aloft wondering which one to take.
Callinicus smiled and brushed past him, “The Monks informed me, if we are to reach the lowest chambers, then we are to keep to the right, and so that we don't get too lost, they gave me a plan that might be of some use, it will certainly help guide us, and it will no doubt be useful when we try to find our way back out.”
Arzealous grunted and followed him as he moved forward, the six Stratiotai guardedly brought up the rear.
Callinicus held up a piece of parchment to his lantern and quickly turned down a side tunnel, there was a waft of cool air, “we may be fortunate to find the lower levels not flooded.”
“That’s reassuring,” said another of the Stratiotai, “can’t these demons ever find a warm comfortable place to hide in, it’s always got to be deep dark, and most assuredly wet; isn’t that right Valerius.”
“Come on Bacchus, it wouldn’t be the same if their surroundings weren’t like your home.”
The other Stratiotai laughed, so clear was the sound that any listening would have been forgiven for thinking they were on a cheery jaunt rather than a journey into danger.
“You all seem unsurprised by all this?” remarked Arzealous.
“Sir, we have had to exorcize a few demon possessed people in our time, that’s why we were chosen for this task. Sergius here almost lost an eye trying to restrain one of them.” There was a grunt from behind Arzealous. “And the Pentarchos and Priscus have their own scars to show for their troubles; although from what I understand, what we’re dealing with here is a particularly nasty creature. A real Demon that doesn’t stop at possession but has fully crossed over into our world.”
“That would be correct, the name Rageon is old indeed since before antiquity. It is said that such a creature is the only thing that ever fought mighty Hercules and lived. Believe me when I say, this will be nothing like what you’ve encountered before.” There was a silence among the guard. “But not to worry, we know its workings and how to prevent it from entering our realm, isn’t that right Callinicus.”
“Right, for sure, we certainly know its workings.”
They strode on, only the patter of their feet and the chink of their mail breaking the silence. The air began to cool, it was difficult to tell the passage of time, all they knew was that they had been going for some hours when they came out into a large cavern; as they held their lanterns up, tall magnificently carved columns appeared and vanished into the rise. This truly was a marvel of engineering, unsurpassed for many an epoch. They all gasped in awe, even Arzealous who had seen many wonders in his long age, saw the beauty of it.
The chamber disappeared into some unknown expanse, the small light the lanterns gave off, seemed to be swallowed up by the dark. They could hear the soft trickle of water echoing, and realised it had taken them nearly most of the day to reach that level. Arzealous recognised that the Stratiotai needed to rest and take refreshments, so suggested they make camp. He received little discouragement for such a proposal, quickly weighty packs were hurled to the ground; once they had been lifted off the Stratiotai yanked off their boots and sat down to rub their sore feet.
It was Sergius who was volunteered to build the fire. And soon enough, a warmth grew in that deep place that had not been felt since ages past. Bacchus reached into his pack and pulled out wrapped in vine leaves, some salted fish for the fire. A slow sizzle and crackle murmured calmly: the fire glowed bringing to life the emptiness that surrounded them. The fragrance of fish covered in herbs began to tease the air.
“We could be here sometime, these catacombs seem to go on for ever,” said Priscus breaking off some bread and passing it to Valerius.
“No, if the Rageon is down here we’ll find it or it will find us," replied Callinicus. "I discovered a means of how we might track and cast the creature out in the annals of Heraclius, from his campaigns in the east. It will take us straight to its lair. So eat heartily my boys this could be our last supper together.”
“Really, you know how to track this thing, I don’t suppose it’s got anything to do with that stick of yours, has it?” Priscus chuckled to himself; before realising Callinicus was not also laughing. “It has,” continued Priscus, “I could have got you half a dozen of those sticks down at the local flea market. All that campaigning against
the Persians and Heraclius brings back that.”
“This is no ordinary stick, as you would put it.” A little irritated Callinicus held the staff up; “I need everyone to unsheathe their swords and place them in a heap on the ground.”
Curiosity getting the better of them they did as asked. Callinicus leant forward and turning the top of the staff first one way then the other, he placed it over them; the crystal throbbed as the swords seemed to vibrate and glow for a moment, before returning to normality.
“Okay that was weird,” said Arminius retrieving his sword and guardedly studying it.
“Your swords will now be of use in the coming conflict,” said Callinicus.
“What you're doing wears the apparel of Black Magic,” responded Valerius throwing his sword back to the ground.
“Not at all, the staff transmits and focuses a natural energy; and through that, has an ability to discharge power, so that it affects the things it touches. That is why it is a weapon against the Rageon. You’ve seen the power of lightning; did you ever question where it came from?”
“Well, of course not.”
“It is an act of nature or if you prefer an act of God, and in the Archives it mentions, and you may have heard of them, the ancient batteries of Mesopotamia, which store power and create light; again they were naturally made and without the aid of any Magic. My staffs a tool, the way your sword is a tool, nothing more and nothing less: I dare say even the Rageon is a natural creature in its own realm, it’s just unnatural that its here.”
“Speaking of its own realm, what do we do if there’s more than one of them?” asked Sergius, the fire gave his scared grizzled face a more macabre appearance.
"Worse than that, what if there's more than two of them?" responded Arminius.
“Then maybe we have a problem,” replied Callinicus, “anyway everyone sleep for a few hours, if you can, I’ll take watch as I am the most rested, and besides I still need to mull one or two things over in my mind.”
“I’ll stay up with you, I don’t need the rest,” said Arzealous.
Callinicus began to rise, “Okay then, and by the way no one exits the circle.”
“What circle?” said Priscus.
“The protective one I’m about to place round our camp,” replied Callinicus.
“Great, more magic, I feel safer already,” muttered Valerius.
“No, it is not magic and neither was what I did earlier to your swords, what I am about to do is what is referred to as a protective holy rite, so just go to sleep,” said Callinicus between gritted teeth.
Callinicus rose a moment and taking his staff, made a circle round the camp. He then took from his pocket a piece of parchment which had symbols on it, and proceeded to draw them round the outside of the circle with a line connecting each one to it. When he was satisfied that he had completed the task he sat back down next to Arzealous with his back to the fire staring out into the emptiness of space and waited. Soon all that could be heard was the shallow breathing of the Stratiotai.
Arzealous leaned into Callinicus so as not to disturb the others, “Those are fairly elaborate symbols. If I’m not mistaken some are in the script of the early age of the Angelos.”
“You are not mistaken,” replied Callinicus, his eyes searching the dark.
“And the others?” asked Arzealous straining to see.
“They are of the Djinn,” Callinicus sighed.
“The Djinn?” asked Arzealous suspiciously.
“Yes Arzealous, it does appear according to the Annals that the Rageon were once vassals of the Djinn.”
“The Djinn are not that dark,” there was a glint of fire in Arzealous’s eyes.
“I’m afraid perhaps some are. Do not think the Angelos were the first visitors from another realm to this world.”
“If it has a connection to the Djinn that complicates matters,” whispered Arzealous. "Especially after our run in with them on Turtle Island, but I cannot believe the Rageon would be subordinate to anyone or anything."
“There’s something else I found in the Archives,” Callinicus’s voice dropped below a whisper as he explained what he had discovered, his tone was only broken by the intermittent nodding of his companion as he listened; when he had finished they both sat back, Arzealous carefully taking in what had been said.
The hours passed interminably, when the two became alert, the sound of the dripping water had changed, it had in fact slowed. There was also a rustling that at first seemed but a distant echo, steadily it got louder or was it closer. Callinicus and Arzealous rose quietly. Callinicus then knelt down and firmly planted the staff in the ground and turned the wrist of the bronze hand, which was made up of separate segments, the crystal began to throb and glow.
Almost immediately the water stopped all together. Callinicus adjusted the wrist once more, twisting it until the light emanating from the crystal steadied itself. Then he thrust it forward as he did so it sent out a shaft of light. There was a savage cry, and in the dark, rising above them, the Rageon. Its eyes shone with a powerful flame, its frame was that of a giant, its helm held a single green crystal that glowed eerily. Its jerkin was made of mail and glistened in the embers of the fire; its long breeches were lost in heavy boots. At the sound of its cry the Stratiotai shot up, instantly alert, and were horrified by the sight before them, still they were too disciplined to stay startled for long, quickly they drew their swords and took cover behind their shields. They stood a moment, bracing themselves for the order to advance.
The Rageon roared at them from the dark but could not pass beyond the symbols. Callinicus seizing his opportunity thrust the staff forward; again a flash of light sprung from it and hit the creature on the shoulder. It wailed and tried once more to enter the circle, still the barrier held firm, the creature paced back and forth, and knowing that it could not cross, struck out with its powerful mace, that ineffectually fell at their feet, as it could not reach beyond the symbols and enter the circle, it gave out another shrill cry before backing away. They waited a moment barely drawing breath anticipating a further attack by the creature. The Rageon enraged by the encounter and not knowing what to make of the men that stood against it, smiled sinisterly, it had heard how resourceful humanity was, and by the use of the staff, the Byzantines had revealed something about themselves, something perhaps they were unaware of, the creature drew itself up to its full height, and slowly backed away until it was devoured by the dark, the unmistakable sound of water dripping resumed. Arzealous and Callinicus could not quite believe the encounter had ended. While the Stratiotai, though they remained tense, breathed a collective sigh of relief.
“So that’s how the Rageon strikes without people detecting it, except of course for the poor victim; it passes through time making it appear as if time itself has stopped; when in effect what occurs is its Chakra naturally creates a field of energy, that enables it to shift with its prey to a different reality. The power from that staff of yours must make it possible for us to counter its powers. Absolutely incredible; though it doesn’t explain why such an entity is here now,” Arzealous seemed to be muttering to himself.
Priscus clutched his sword tightly, still unable to move. “Was that it, if it was, we’re all going to need bigger swords.”
“We’ve fought worse,” replied Valerius.
“When have you ever fought anything worse than that?” queried the Pentarchos.
“Well, there’s your ex-wife for one thing.”
“Oh! I’ll give you that; and our next move?” The Pentarchos had turned to face Arzealous and Callinicus.
“We can now follow it. The staff will now be able to trace where it has gone; according to the annals the closer we get to it, the brighter the crystal will become.”
“So that’s how we track it; how do we bind it?” asked the Pentarchos, as he hurled his pack over his shoulder.
“Firstly we need to discover where it crossed over from; and then we need to cross to the other side to find
out exactly why it’s here.”
Priscus who was busy folding his blanket gave out a gruff sound and looked up, “And if there are others like it, I would hate to fight a legion of them. And the thing is this, what if there is worse waiting for us on the other side; we will all certainly be heading into the unknown quite literally.”
“Into the unknown, I’m afraid that’s another risk we must take,” repeated Arzealous, although they could not see his face clearly, in the shadowed light his furrowed brow suggested that even an Angelos as high as he was, held concerns.