Cloak of War: Michael Dawson's Journal Part 4

When my father brought me to his study to ask me why they hadn't gotten any good intel from my relationship with Angela, that was when he realized the amulet was gone.

“Where is it?” He hissed and struck me. It wasn't the first time he had ever hit me, but it stung the most. “How did you take it off?”

“I don't know!” I tried to cover my face. It's hard to seem tough when you've been backhanded in the face. It hits your tear ducts and no matter what you start to cry a little.

“Yes you do!” He pulled my hair and twisted until I yelped in pain. “Do you know what will happen if they find out you haven't done your duty? The freedom fighters will see you as a traitor, just like they did with your mother. Now tell me, what happened?” He threw me to the ground.

“She took the amulet off,” I confessed. “I don't know how but she had this golden magic in her hands when she took it.

“Impossible,” he said, reaching for a book on his desk and combing through the pages. “we did extensive research, there's no magic and certainly no hag blood in her family tree. Only hags or lady's of the hedge have golden magic, and even then it's not supposed to be able to work against blood magic.” he sat at his desk and meditated on this for several minutes.

“I know what to do.” He said with a sly grin. “My brothers are hungry to complete the ceremony again. Her magic is dormant and of no use to her, and her power is clearly enough to do harm to our cause. We will use her so her magic can go to someone who deserves it.”

“that could kill her!” I cried out even though I knew what he would say

“All the better,” he replied. 

“The brothers only know how to perform this ceremony on a virgin, but only I know how to perform it like this. All I need is to write out the instructions.”

That was when I knew I had to end this with my father once and for all. This ceremony would end with him.

Then I started chanting in an ancient tongue, an invocation I had learned from one of the old masters, Baba Yaga, to summon one of the most powerful wizards, Koschei. He was responsible for exposing the magical world at a demonstration for world leaders. Koschei was hated, but powerful. Humans without magic hadn't been fans of that, especially the ones who had thought it was all fairytales. He had disappeared towards the end of the war after stealing his general, my grandfather, ability to change face, to escape. I decided it was time for Koschei to return the favor.  I sacrificed my father to Koschei, the deathless. The old wizard used his powerful magic to make his father's body and DNA match his and staged the death in the woods. 

It worked nearly perfect until Angela requested to see the body. I forgot I had taught Angela how to see magic. I had to act fast. If Angela revealed I faked my death, the freedom fighters could find me before I had time to pay off the debt to Koschei. I should have known the truth of our deal…

I sent her a note to lure her into the woods and Koschei took the form of a werewolf to scare her from investigating this further. I just wanted to scare her. I didn't think she would get lost in those woods. I thanked the gods for the Darini who took her that night. 

With my new face, I thought I was finally free of those so-called rebellions until Koschei reminded me that I traded one debt for another. 

“I'm free!” I had exclaimed as I glad the town boarders to the main road that cut through the woods. It was foggy and Koschei appeared out of it, laughing 

“You poor boy,” he said. “Did you forget the promise you made when you were just a child yo your father? You said you would never harm him. You gave him your word. It was an oath of sorts. But here you are responsible for his death. You know what that makes you, right? An oath breaker. A warlock. And you know who controls warlocks, right? Me. Your soul belongs to me.”

“No, that's not possible.”

“Oh but it's far too true, Michael. You are nothing but an oath breaker. Its nearly all you do. Even if I didn't count the one you made to your father when you were so young, and I do, there's many more promises you've broken. When you were studying to become a mage, did you or did you not swear an oath to protect Aurelia?”

I said nothing.

“And yet here you are invoking one of their greatest enemies to save your own skin.”

“That's not why–” I started but he held up a hand to silence me.

Koschei moved closer to me and I could see his wretched face. His smile was menacing. “You can tell yourself you had no other choice and desperately try to believe it, but when you speak with me I only want the truth. It does not matter to me why you summoned me. I am here now. But more pressingly, you were going to be a mage and you broke your oath to Kateque. You brought her attention to you and your father's doings, and you know how protective she is of her witches.”

My pulse quickened and my breath shortened. The panic over what I had gotten myself into was setting in.

“You may have gotten free from those Freedom Fighters and avoided the problems of men, Michael. But now you have gotten the gods involved. How many promises did you make to Angela when you learned she was with child? And right before you abandoned her?”

“Everything I did was to protect them!”

“You can tell yourself whatever you must to sleep at night,” Koschei hissed. “You better pray the other gods don't learn of your betrayal of Angela” I flinched when he said her name– “and your daughter. If the freedom fighters don't get them first, the gods may intervene.” 

 “I fear I have made a grave mistake.” I said, my hands shaking.

Koschei laughed “it's okay my boy. All warlocks are under my protection. I will help you, but we must lie low for a while. Don't worry, I will help you.” He extended his bony hand and used a long decrepit fingernail to draw blood. “Let me mark you with my sigil, for protection. There you go, now stop wincing! Hold still … Pathetic weak boy. Now… What should we do about that name? Michael, gift from God will never do for someone like you. No, no Michael Dawson is dead and a dead name you will not be called… Jacob, for you will follow behind me as I tell you so you can be safe from those you have angered. Yes, I like that name for you Jacob. But we can call you Jac for short. Michael Dawson is dead."