All characters are 18 years old or older. I realized that I didn't have any sort of villain or bad guys in this story. I have added one. If you dislike this idea tell me and I'll drop it. I also want to add in flashbacks to a younger Thomas and how he developed some of his skills. We are shaped by our past and this is my chance to delve into that and use some exotic locations, okay exotic for me. If you have any suggestions or comments fire away. Also, please vote and tell me how well I'm doing. Should I continue this or go back and finish Evil Bitch or one of the other older story lines?
Please visit my profile I have been nominated for Most Influential Writer of 2017. There is a link in one of my posts if you'd like to vote for me. Also, I'd like to thank everyone for following me and helping me break the 3000 mark. That is amazing!
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Overlook:
His footsteps were precisely measured and echoed off the tiled floor and massively vaulted ceiling of the hallway. The architecture wasn't just a show of majesty but also a security measure. It made it harder for an assassin to slip in and reach the inner sanctum. It wasn't the only security measure, just the most obvious one. A plethora of sensors, cameras, and a host of magical means to keep the unwanted from this point. He stood at the door that opened into his master's domain. The twenty-foot doors swung silently outward. He continued into the darkened interior. He mentally counted his steps as he entered the ever-darkening area.
'...14 ...15 ...16' He readied to stop. '...20.'
"Perfect as always Dekkard." The deep rumbling voice called out from the perfect darkness.
"Thank you Master." Dekkard replied as he always did. "How may I be of help?"
"Do you know what today is?"
"It is the anniversary Sir." Dekkard replied carefully emphasizing the words 'the' and 'anniversary'.
"Correct," his Master replied and then continued. "It has been two hundred years since the Pride of Arkham set out for the South Pole." His Master paused as the image of the wooden ship weighing anchor and leaving the harbor filled his mind. "How long have you worked for me Dekkard?"
"Sir?" Dekkard said letting the word reach his Master's ears before he continued. "If by work, do you mean when did my mother sold me as a slave to your grandfather?"
"That is why you are my most trusted," the Master said with a laugh. "How long have you been a slave Dekkard?"
"Ninety-one years," he replied without any attempt to hide his bitterness.
"Nearly ninety-two no?" The Master continued a hint of mirth in his emotionless voice. "You have a birthday coming up soon."
"Yes Master."
"That is grand, tell me then, which world would you like to retire to? Come here and look."
The orb illuminated blinding the old man at the edge of inner sanctum. Dekkard squinted and approached the orb. The sphere was one hundred feet in diameter yet despite its size it didn't dominate the chamber. That distinction belonged to the articulated skeletal remains of the Elder Dragon that hung from the ceiling. The beast in life was six hundred feet from the tip of its nose to the end of its tail. The flickering surface of the orb show snapshots of the Earth. More specifically, the images on the face of the orb showed live feeds from a multitude of Earths. The technomagic involved allowed the Master to see key events as they unfolded across the Multiverse. History unfolded, and he was there to pounce when pivotal moments revealed themselves. It was his duty to shape the future so that imminent history came out in the proper fashion.
"Come closer Dekkard," the Master ordered with a motion of his cybernetic hand. "Tell me which one beckons to you."
"So many," the old man whispered. "Some dark and some bright... futures in flux while some already are doomed."
"Truer words were never spoken," the Master said placing a cold metallic hand on his slave's shoulder.
"The Thanatons are waking. The Thanatons are hungry." Dekkard's words echoed across realities.
The Master laughed as a single tear streamed down the old man's cheek.
Phoenix Born:
The leaves were well into their autumnal change. There is a distinct smell of fallen leaves and it filled the air. I walked silently over the bed of crunchy foliage. It was a simple thing but profound as I approached the front door of my home. I was dressed in jeans and a dark green hoodie, the hood pulled up. I rang the doorbell and Indigo answered the door. It took her a few seconds to realize it was me. The full beard and haggard expression made the process difficult. The shifter threw herself into my arms and cried out.
"He's home! Master is home!" She shouted and then whispered in my ear. "I didn't feel you. I can't feel you."
"It is safer that way. I would kill for a hot cup of coffee. How long has it been?"
"Three months Thomas," she replied as she led me straight to the kitchen.
"Oh good," I said as I settled into a chair at the kitchen table. "I feared it might be longer."
Everyone that was in the house piled into the kitchen. Lily was on her phone and talking to Victoria and Keisha. Katarina was speaking to Eleanor, who was still in China, telling her I was home and safe. Tiffany broke ranks and sat in my lap. She placed her head on my shoulder and clung tight. I placed an arm around her waist. As she wept I told her it was okay. The scent of coffee filled the air and I inhaled the mouthwatering aroma.
"It is so good to be home." I said.
"It is good to have you home." They replied.
"What happened Master?" Indigo asked.
"Well, it is a long story. My Osirian side of the family demanded my presence. I was teleported to an island they control. I underwent a traditional passage of manhood. I passed through a gate to a carefully chosen staging area or, so they believed."