Horrors of Fire and Skulls (Mystical Warriors book 2)

A COLD FIERY PRESENCE

Vaskàr, Haira, Brade, Harth and Roy landed in the same place, at the same building Vaskàr that's been closed down for years. This was the building Vaskàr visited with Ásvald. Ásvald was the one who warned Vaskàr about the growing cult and Vaskàr ignored him. It was this place where everything must have started: painting the Mark of the Sword on this building's walls and showing it to the planet.

Vaskàr was hoping there was nothing evil about this place. But looking at a worldwide cult and his Mark being painted in red, every point has to be looked at and observe closely. It could always be a misleading object; however, Vaskàr couldn't risk leaving a minor detail out. Every inch of this old fishing boat house needs to be checked out. And Vaskàr had his teammates to help him out.

"This is the place where I found my Mark in human blood," said Vaskàr. "This is where it may have all have started: a worldwide cult calling themselves Guardians of Ra'siar's Fire being created here. And we are here to end this cult before it goes viral and consumes every person like a raging forest fire."

Vaskàr signed. A thought of Ra'siar being considered a god isn't considerable wrongly evil. There just couldn't be a way for the dead to come back to life, only the exceptions of the soul becoming a Mystical Warrior or Årvondor making the soul with his own powers to be created into one of his loyal, brainwashed minions.

"And why are we here?" asked Roy.

Everyone turned to see Roy who seemed to be out of the loop. Unlike the Mystical Warriors, his mind was not linked to their minds like computers linked to the Internet. The Mystical Warriors' minds had the capabilities to communicate with each other, share information, and read the thoughts and memories of each other. And Roy was not part of that link with the warriors.

"Brade, if you please," said Vaskàr.

"With pleasure," replied Brade, taking off his armor gloves. Brade's bare hands rubbed his hands together.

"What is going on here?" asked Roy, worryingly.

"Don't worry, Roy," said Brade, smiling. "Since you're not part of our mind-link connection, I'm going to make you part of that connection so you would be left out of the loop. Since you're the only human that isn't a real Mystical Warrior, you've got to stay in the loop. And as the Master of Earth, my duty is to make sure you start getting our thoughts from the ground, not from the air. You'll be able to receive our thoughts from your feet from now on."

"What does that mean with your hands?" asked Roy.

"For you to receive our thoughts, Roy, my earthly powers must be inside you. Hard to explain, but it's a process every Master of Earth must do for the human body to receive messages from the soul of a different person. Now hold still." Brade jumped towards Roy and plunged his hands onto Roy's head.

Suddenly, Roy started shouting if he was being electrified from an electrifying kitchen appliance. He felt no pain but he could feel his lungs and brain and blood dropping to his feet. He could feel his feet sinking into the dirt.

In thirty seconds, Brade backed away from an electrified-looking Roy. Roy was shaking and sturdily kept falling every time he tried to stand on his feet. Soon, he could start feeling five different voices in his head; the voices of the warriors around him.

Vaskàr walked up to Roy. "Now you're feeling what we are feeling, Roy," he said. "Five voices: us, the Mystical Warriors. As you progress through life, you'll start hearing voices all around the planet as we do, Roy. This will be everyday life, and no one on this planet will be able to hide their thoughts from us, if they have some kind of evil connections to Årvondor." Vaskàr puffed and walked where he was and looked at the building. "Can you guys feel that? The feel of fire and a dreadful thought of bitter coldness? A cold fire?"