(William Ja-On Campbell Hillman)

Chapter Three: The Proposal

Finally, after days of searching, and following, DeMagi had found his old friend and student, Boleau. Even after all these years of knowing him, DeMagi had never discovered if he had another name. The people who knew and feared him merely called him Boleau, the Zulu. It didn't matter anymore, for Boleau, nothing mattered anymore, this was a killing mission, and DeMagi didn't seemed bothered about it one bit.

 Many years ago, Boleau was one of the most noble of immortals DeMagi had ever met. A great fighter, a noble gentleman, and a good friend. But about 120 years ago, he had a run in with Montegue LeMoynne, and things went bad, very bad. LeMoynne toyed with Boleau, using his incredible powers of the mind to warp him. Eventually, the bombardment collapsed his mind, and Boleau lost all he was. He became as mad as LeMoynne, and became enamored with the idea of killing DeMagi. In order to get DeMagi, he only had to kill one person...

 "Boleau!" screamed DeMagi as he drew his two blades. The wind whipped  around him, acting as a whirlwind. The tall savanna grass swayed and twisted under the bombardment of elemental fury, but the plains were a dead quiet. "Boleau! Where are you?"

 A laughing voice echoed, "DeMagi! DeMagi!! You are dead already, bastard! Why do you pester me you inferior fool!"

 "Where is she Boleau!? Where is Gaelynne? You took her from me over 100 years ago! What have you done with her?"

 "Kameleo! You are still the crazy bastard!" Boleau yelled as he came into the open, his curved scimitar clearly drawn, it's deadly blade glinting in the sun's rays. "I'll forgive you for that, you insane fool, but... There Can Be Only One!!!"

 Boleau raised his weapon above his head and charged forward to DeMagi. His haphazard attack was easily parried by DeMagi's steel, but the shear momentum of the strike sent his primary blade, his prized katana flying through the air. It landed over twenty feet away, making it a helpless bystander in this battle.

 "Loosen up on your blade you always said, dear teacher. Hold it too tight and you have lost the fight, you always taught! How is the victor now, DeMagi? The teacher is about to become the student!" mocked Boleau as he raged his attack forward towards his former teacher, mentor and friend.

 "Boleau," DeMagi said as he parried the attacks and sidestepped his opponent, "You still have not learned that there are times to be a braggart..."

 DeMagi sidestepped the final attack of his opponent and in one swift upward stroke, removed Boleau's sword hand at the wrist, with his wakizashi, his counterpart of his katana. He continued the motion into a backhand strike and severed his opponent's right leg from his torso. As insane as Boleau was, he still felt the pain, and knew he was done.

 "... and times not to be a braggart." DeMagi continued as he walked over to his foe and looked into his eyes, "Now where is she? Where is Gaelynne Morgan?"

 Boleau lay on the ground, as DeMagi placed the tip of the blade to his neck. "Dammit, I don't have her man! I never took her! The Kurgan almost found you and she hid to save you! Bastard, you took my leg! You know how long that will take to grow back?"

 "It won't, don't worry."

 "Damn you. Got tired of the Game anyway... I don't have her Kameleo, I'm sane enough to know that! She was hiding and waiting till the Kurgan was taken out, and now she's looking for you."

 "How do you know this?"

 "She told me... about three years ago in Vienna. Bitch took three of my fingers... I don't know where she is damnit. I don't know..."

 "Thank you Boleau, and don't worry, this isn't personal..." DeMagi whispered as he raised his blade high above his head.

 "Yeah, right, nothing personal. Thanks for nothing... friend..."

 The blade cut through the neck and vertebrae like they almost weren't there. After the cut, DeMagi squatted down on the grass, exhausted not from the battle but from the killing, and the Quickening of his now dead friend seared into his body like hot electrical fire. He screamed a scream that could be heard for miles, and could only explain his sorrow for killing his once good friend. Light flashed into his body and the decapitated corpse hovered a foot into the air, white light flowing from the mass like souls escaping from hell. It suddenly collapsed onto the ground, and lay there. DeMagi hunched over on his thighs, gasping for air, and recovering from the Quickening. The grass around him lay burnt and charred in concentric circles extending over a dozen feet in all directions. At last, this part of his past was over, and he wasn't the least bit happy. He became even more agitated when he saw a man walk towards him, and felt the Quickening of another Immortal emanating from him.

 "Shit, not another one..."

 "Phillipe Kameleo DeMagi. You know, its kinda strange how the scorch marks in the grass from the Quickening look like crop circles in America." the man said with a half humorous smile as he walked towards DeMagi, who was kneeling on the ground, his body shaking from receiving the massive shock of the energy he had received from his foe. "You know, finding you was easy as soon as I found out what continent Boleau was on.”

 The foreign figure walked over the decapitated body of Boleau the Zulu, once one of the most feared Immortal in Africa, and drew his sabre. During Boleau's 900-year life, he had secured most of the Ivory Coast under his iron fist, and exploited the resources and people in order to create his own personal empire, quite literally immune from any rival attacks. He just never took into consideration the fact that DeMagi would find out that he might have been responsible, at least in part, for the disappearance of his lover, Gaelynne Morgan, the druid. And even if he did, he would never have thought that DeMagi, once his teacher, friend and companion would destroy him.

 “I kinda knew that you had some sort of grudge against him, so all I had to do was wait until you took his head to find you." He looked into the blue sky and pointed at the white clouds that flowed overhead, "The release of the Quickening looks so lovely against the backdrop of blue and white."

 DeMagi struggled to get up, and looked at the man's sabre and picked his own weapon up from the ground. "You were the one who sent me that message of Boleau’s location I assume.”

The man nodded his head with a little grin, “You might say it was out of the goodness of my heart. My employer knew he knew something…”

“So you've come for my Quickening, while I am still recovering from the one I just took? How very noble of you." DeMagi walked over to his other weapon, lying a fair distance away, and picked it up. He sheathed the blade and watched his every move. Eventually he followed his adversary to the section of the grass that had not been seared.

 The man sheathed his weapon and extended his hand towards DeMagi, "Now Kameleo, you know as well as I do, you would still take my head in your weakened state. No DeMagi, I am not your executioner, but merely a messenger from someone who requires your certain... skills." He urged DeMagi to take his hand in a gesture of peace, but he remained wary, keeping his distance. “And since you do owe us…”

 DeMagi dropped his sword and eyed the man suspiciously, "And I am to trust a man who does not even introduce himself? Where are your manners... Ellis Carlisle... I thought Caernarvon taught you better than that."

 Carlisle smiled upon DeMagi’s recognition of his stature and turned his back on the warrior; "It couldn't have been easy to kill Boleau, the last of the Zulus. Killing a student and friend must be difficult."

 "When one has been corrupt and bent to where he slaughters a dozen children a day for his own amusement, I step in, friend or not."

 "Everyone has their hobbies..."

 "And yours would be chasing me across this very small world of ours?"

 "Merely on a part time basis, my friend. Boleau deserved some respect, no matter how little. Not everyone survives a battle with the Kurgan, but then again, I understand you have two times or so..."

 DeMagi stared blankly into the sky, as dark clouds rolled over the blue morning glow, and lightning flashed in the distance. The Kurgan...

Germany, 1537 A.D.

 Lightning exploded across the dark sky of the countryside and the sound of steel clashing echoed between the bursts of thunder. Rain poured down, as if it were the end of the world, and the wind screamed like a dying god. The collision of two blades illuminated the night as much as the storm's lightning, as one figure battered down his bladed weapon against the defensive posture of the second. Fire exploded from an old warped tree as a bolt from the sky carved the object in half. Flames erupted from the dead carcass as the red glow illuminated the battlefield.

 "DeMagi!" screamed the larger man, his body drenched in cold rain and sweat, the howling wind blowing his hair like a hurricane. "I shall have your head and feast on your meager Quickening!"

 DeMagi struggled under the immense strength of the Kurgan, his feet sliding in the mud-covered ground and his grip on his sword slipping more every second. "You won't have me Kurgan! You've taken everyone I know, you bastard!" Brave words, he thought, but I'm losing more every second, I've already lost the battle... and my head.

 "You will die as your teacher Ramiriz did..." The Kurgan growled as he grinned, "You will die like the worm, begging for forgiveness and for his pathetic soul! He will rot in his own personal HELL which I have sent him to!" He smiled and struck DeMagi's weapon out of his hand and then with an unearthly scream, the Kurgan ran his sword through DeMagi's gut. Kameleo screamed in pain as the Kurgan lifted his sword and flailing body into the air. "The Hell I will send you to!"

 There was a flash of light as a bolt of lightning struck the Kurgan’s sword, and the two bodies erupted in electrical pain. The Kurgan released his sword and staggered back. DeMagi dropped to the ground, the Kurgan's sword still imbedded in his stomach, his life blood mixing with the mud and rain, and he knew he was dead any second. He lay staked on the ground by the Kurgan's weapon, struggling to stand, and maybe live a few seconds more. The Kurgan screamed and kicked DeMagi's half-dead face so hard that his limp body flew into the air, and he landed on the hilt of the blade. Lightning flashed in the sky and he lay on the ground, impaled by the massive black blade, rain falling on his pain etched face. The Kurgan merely smiled.
 "You are good DeMagi... but not good enough..." the Kurgan said as he walked over to DeMagi's fallen weapon and picked it up, admiringly, "...skill is not all there is, and even your mentor Ramiriz can follow that." He walked over to DeMagi picked him up by the neck and spit in his face. DeMagi didn't even resist, shaking and trembling, in too much pain to move. The Kurgan propped him up against a tree and raised the sword; "You are good, but not strong enough..."

 Light flashed behind the Kurgan, illuminating his devilish visage and the blade fell, as the Kurgan screamed...

"There Can Be Only One!!!"


Africa, 1997 A.D.

 "But you lived another day, and the Kurgan is now dead, thanks to our friend Macleod. But now there is a greater danger in the world. One that pales the Kurgan by far, DeMagi..." Carlisle said with a stern, harsh face. He drew his sword and jammed the blade into the ground. "The Time of the Gathering is growing near..."

 DeMagi perked up, and broke out of his hypnotic trance. He looked over at Carlisle and wondered, after all this time, is it truly about to end? "How do you know, why have I not felt it? If the Gathering were to come, I would have felt the urge..."

 "Yes, I know, but my master has felt it in his meditation. The Gathering is growing near." Carlisle's face turned to a dreaded fear, which seemed to send an ageless fear into even DeMagi, "And have you heard the story of the Hermit?"

 DeMagi began to breath heavily, and a shocked look came across his face, "Joshua Morlock, The Unbreakable. The Hermit. The Insane. Yes, I have heard of him. Monte took him out of the Game before he lost his mind. One of the most dangerous Immortal ever. The story says he was one of the Five."

 "Unfortunately, you are entirely correct. But it is worse than you could possible imagine... he's back..."

 "Mother of God... you can't be serious... How do you know he's alive? How is he alive?"

 "We don't know, DeMagi. My master has sensed him... and I've seen him, in battle. I barely escaped with my life. Join us. We can join together against a common enemy more dangerous than death itself, Morlock The Unbreakable...  Join the Brotherhood of the Eternal Curse, we need you, everyone needs you...

 DeMagi turned around and walked away. He stopped to pick up his sword and sheath the blade. "No thanks Carlisle... I am not a mercenary. And you can't offer me enough, not even protection,  for my services. Going against the Hermit is not my idea of fun..."

 "He will find you DeMagi. You will be one of the first he seeks out. We are your best protection." Carlisle bowed his head, and leaned forward on his sword. His body tensed up as he drew the sword out of the soil. "Where is your woman Kameleo. Gaelynne Morgan, was her name, wasn't it?"

 DeMagi stopped. Carlisle had struck a nerve and DeMagi's hand tensed to the sound of cracking knuckles. He turned around again, and raised his sword. "What have you done with her, you bastard? Where is she?"

 "One Hundred years is a long time to search for someone, DeMagi, and we know where she is. We can help each other my friend, join us... we need you..."

 "Is she alive? Where is she?!" he screamed, "Tell me now or I'll kill you where you stand!"

 "Yes, she is alive, and very safe in hiding. But know this... Morlock is searching for her... she is being hunted...  and when he finds her, she won't stand a chance..." be continued in Chapter 4...


Cover Page
Chapter One:
The Beginning
Chapter Two:
Enroute to Revenge
Chapter Three:
The Proposal
Chapter Four:
Encounters and Agreements
Chapter Five:
Montegue LeMoynne
Chapter Six:
Chapter Seven:
The Heist
Chapter Eight:
Ambush at the Safehouse
Chapter Nine:
The Dividing of the Quests
Chapter Ten:
The Soul-Stealer
Chapter Eleven:
Chapter Twelve:
The Marnin' Gull Tavern
Chapter Thirteen:
Coming to America
Chapter Fourteen:
Monte's Fall from Grace
Chapter Fifteen:
Prelude to Hell


Copyright 1999 William Ja-On Campbell Hillman