Last Anchor

Standing next to the Obelisco Egizio in the Giardiano di Boboli, a lonely man in his fifties was there.

He had been there for over an hour without moving from that spot. One could imagine he was admiring the monument, but a second glance would reveal that he was completely focused on something else.

A second man walked over to him, his hair long and black, his demeanor similar to that of a soldier, and his body tall and well cared for.

"The last anchor has been ubicated."

The first man moved his head toward him.

"Let's do the ritual as soon as possible. Lucchesi will be pleased. Who is the manasi?"

"It's a boy who just turned eighteen today; his parents died last month in a robbery, and he isn't conscious of his status as manasi."

"He must feel lonely; I will have to go wish him a happy birthday personally. Send me his location; I will bring him at eleven this night to the gallery underground; do the preparations for the summoning."

"Understood, Grande Maestro Abato. But I must warn you, the initial analysis shows this boy has the second greatest mana output of all the anchors."

Domenico thought about it for a few seconds. A manasi who doesn't know about his gift suddenly using magic when faced with danger was not unheard of.

"What's the mana difference between he and Renzo?"

"He has half of Renzo's limit, but that is still thirty times more than us."

"I will do something about that."

Both men left the place. The second one went to a nearby street. Standing there, he pretended to be texting someone on his phone until the street was empty for a moment. 

It took him a few minutes to find the perfect chance. Quickly, he walked into an alley and crouched behind a big trash can. There was a manhole. 

He entered it as silently as possible and found himself in a dark tunnel. He was under the city, in its sewers. 

The hedor was suffocating, but he kept walking until he found a wall that had a hole in it big enough to fit a twelve-year-old child.

He crawled into the hole and found himself in a straight corridor. He went through it, and at the end, there was a metal door. He knocked it in a certain way, and a voice asked from inside.

"Who is the enemy of men?"

"Death."

The door was opened from inside by a masked man.

"Edoardo Zabassi, I thought you were with Abato."

The man greeted him while he entered a hall. He could count at least sixteen other masked members, man and woman, old and young, but he only knew two by name, and sadly, this was one of them.

"The Grande Maestro ordered the preparations for the last summoning, Beniamino Caruso."

He began walking, but Beniamino followed him.

"And why doesn't the Grande Maestro announce it himself? I didn't know you were now his secretary."

Edoardo ignored him. For the sake of his sanity, he needed the patience to not engage in a conversation with him.

"Lately, you have been awfully close to Abato; are you trying to become his successor, taking the Order for yourself?"

Beniamino said this loud enough to be heard by all the presents. Now he couldn't let this slide, but there was a way to not end this in a duel.

"Successor? Successor!? There's not going to be a successor! The Grande Maestro is going to become immortal, and soon we will follow! Or is it that you doubt the ritual? You know very well; it isn't my fault that you have so little mana that the Maestro can't take you seriously!"

Edoardo turned the table with that statement. Beniamino had to submit in front of everyone or admit that he didn't believe in the ritual.

"..."

He chose the first option. Edoardo kept walking, unable to hide a smile on his face. Now he could do what he wanted to do.

Behind some computers and machines, there was a man who wasn't wearing a mask and was in a doctor's uniform. He was the other person Edoardo knew by name, Lorenzo De Rosa. His hair was dark blonde and very short, recently cut; his eyes were a shade of gray and hid behind glasses; his complexion similar to that of a man in his second month in the gym. 

"I already informed the Grande Maestro; we are doing the summoning tonight; start the preparations."

"Understood. I will start drawing the circle."

"Wait, I wanted to ask you something first."

"What is it? Don't take too much of my time; the circle and the incantation are very lengthy."

"How sure are you about the mana levels of the fourteenth sacrifice? Don't you think it's very convenient that a person with this potential who doesn't know it's a manasi just happened to donate blood yesterday?"

Lorenzo looked at him, offended.

"The analysis was of such quality that we don't need to do the second one right before the summoning, like usually."

Edoardo tried to deescalate the misunderstanding, he perceived that his words had been taken the wrong way.

"It's just that it's problematic to have a person like that; he could overpower the rest of the anchors with ease after learning the basics. The last manasi is Federico Balossi, a soldier from the First World War. He was so powerful that it is said that he participated in and survived all the battles of Izonso. Imagine if both of them were a team!"

Lorenzo put his hand under his mouth. It was something he usually did when he was thinking about something.

"If you are so worried about things like that, since this is the last summoning, there would be any problem if you killed them just right after the manasi from the past appears. Now, I don't think the Grande Maestro would be very happy about this, so please refrain yourself from doing something stupid."

Lorenzo was right; even if he thought it wouldn't be a good idea, he couldn't go against Abato.

He wandered off while Lorenzo drew the circle.

The room where they were had been found by one of their members a week ago; they presumed it belonged to a now-forgotten secret society, maybe around the time of the Risorgimento. All of modern Europe was built on top of the remains of the past, making it possible to find underground places like this. According to Abato, there were whole cities under the surface, but he didn't knew if he was just exaggerating.

Lorenzo was using a big compass to draw a circumference with a diameter of one meter surrounding a smaller one of ninety centimeters.

The circle was made using unicorn blood mixed with silver powder and the eyes of a vampire. The smell was like burned sugar with a scent of gun powder.

While he was doing this, he was writing some words in latin and languages older than latin in the space between the circles; Edoardo was only capable of recognizing aramaic; Lorenzo recited something multiple times as he did all of this.

Edoardo had already seen him do this another thirteen times but was still unable to decipher a single word of what he was saying; the only thing he knew for sure was that the word Asfaroth was said lots of times. The process would go on for another five hours.

Flavio Sartori was coming home alone from a café. He had spent there an hour eating some desserts for his birthday, but he couldn't stop feeling so lonely; he felt like there was a hand around his neck squeezing it, and no matter how much he resisted, he couldn't get the hand to let go.

His amber eyes were tainted by a drop of sadness; the usually bright, buttery-colored hair now seemed gray; the clear skin now appeared sickly; and the skinny body seemed famelic.

The future appeared full of uncertainty, and he didn't think he had an objective in life that he could achieve.

But today was a day of celebration, even if only he was there to enjoy it. He was an adult now, and he had to put order into his life. Even if the weight of the world was unbearable, he had to go forward.

Forward to what? He didn't knew, but he had to. The way home was long, and tomorrow he was going to search for a job to pay himself university.

Suddenly, he realized the street was as empty as a desert. He couldn't even hear the wind passing by. Instinctively, he looked at his surroundings; there was a man behind him wearing a raincoat.

"Happy birthday."

There was a loud noise and a flash. A sharp pain in his stomach was followed by a hot liquid pouring out. He touched it with his hands, and something inside of him told him the truth. It was blood.

Flavio opened his mouth, maybe to scream, but the man punched him between the eyes before he could do anything. He fell to the ground, knocked out cold.

He awoke in absolute darkness. Was it because he was in a place without light, or was he unable to see? He didn't knew. The only thing on his mind was pain. The one in his head felt like fire, and the one in his stomach felt as if something was biting in the same place again and again. Flavio couldn't determine which was worse.

He tried to move, but he felt too weak to do it.

The sound of footsteps was captured by his ears, but he couldn't focus on them at all.

"The anchor is awake!"

Edoardo said it with a dagger in his hand.

Now Flavio knew for sure those were footsteps, but as much as he tried, he couldn't see anything; the answer hit him like a brick: He couldn't see because of the blood loss.

Now the question was, would this blindness be temporary or not?

"Con questa saga spezzo il corpo e la mente per raggiungere l'anima." 

Flavio heard a voice; he couldn't determine if it was male or female, nor if it was high or deep; the sounds were distorted. Had he not been so wounded, he could have easily understood that there was not one voice but many.

Edoardo kneeled in front of him and stabbed him in the belly button.

"Madre Natura e Padre Tempo creano leggi inviolabili." 

A new pain made his senses tense, as if they were struck by lightning. The dizziness dissapeared, now replaced with awareness. His sight returned, but he couldn't move for much he tried, was he paralyzed?

"L'anima è selvaggia e incontrollabile."

I am going to die? I don't wanna die! I don't wanna die! Please I don't wanna die!

His brain worked at light speed; ten of thousands of thoughts ran through his mind. He knew he was going to be killed at this rate; the awareness was temporary; soon he would fall asleep and wouldn't awaken. He didn't want this, but he truly was unable to move a muscle. Flavio was terrified.

"Oh, anima di ieri, accetta l'anima di oggi e squarcia il velo dell'ignoto."

Mom! Dad! Please someone help me! Please mom where are you!? Dad help me!

He then remembered, the people he was calling were dead, like he was going to be soon; he was alone; there was not a single person in the world who would help him.

"Anime simili cercano anime simili."

At least, the feeling of loneliness would dissipate with him.

"Oh, tu che sei come il fulmine, accetta quest'ancora e salta le leggi del padre tempo!"

That wasn't it. Was his last thought going to be about how lonely he felt? Flavio disagreed; he wanted to live a life where, at the end, he could look back on it and think he really had a good time. He didn't want to die.

Why am even going to die for? Who are this persons? I want them to stop. I want them to stop. I want them to stop.

"Rituale di creazione della vita eterna, quattordicesimo sacrificio del nuovo mago e del vecchio mago."

Flavio felt as if they were grabbing his insides and digging them out. The pain from before was nothing compared to this. He thought it was funny; just a moment ago, he wanted them to stop, and now he would have everything just to go back to that torture if it meant what he was feeling right now would dissapear.

His muscles tensed and stretched as long as humanely possible, if not a bit more, and then all of his nerves screamed in pain. Absolutely all of his nervous system was on fire. His body started convulsing as if attacked by electrical shocks, but the worst part of it all was that Flavio could feel how his heart stopped and reanimated countless times.

It all stopped.

Flavio couldn't tell what had happened, was he dead, this was it? The other side? 

A hand carelessly played with his hair.

"Hold on for a little longer; could you do that for me?"

A beautiful voice asked him; it was otherworldly; he felt that he must do whatever the voice said. Flavio knew it was a woman's voice, but it was as authoritarian as a dictator.

"What is your name, manasi."

Beniamino asked, stepping forward a bit confused, all of them were expecting Federico Balossi, but who in the world was this?

"Your name! Identify yourself!"

Beniamino walked close to her. Lorenzo and Edoardo gazes met, and without saying a word, they understood each other, and quietly and slowly, they tried to get as far as possible of that manasi.

The summoned one was a young woman, and if someone had to guess, he would say she was twenty or twenty-one years old. Her eyes a mix between silver and emeralds; her hair reaching her waist with a hue between sky blue and white; her body was well worked, with some scars here and there and almost reached two meters when standing.

Even as nude as she was, her demeanor was like that of a general; obviously, she expected her words to be absolute. 

The same Edoardo that was willing to fight Eloisa was trembling, scared, but why? He didn't knew how truly strong Eloisa or this woman were, or if there was a difference between them, but something was different. What was it? He couldn't really pin it down, but if he had to guess, he would say that Eloisa was a duchess, but this was a queen.

Beniamino had gotten too close to her; what was it that prompted him to take such a risk? Couldn't he understand the situation? Was he such a fool? He looked back at Edoardo and grinned.

Edoardo understood it now; he was doing all of this to prove he wasn't inferior to him, to show that he wasn't scared like him.

Beniamo was going to kill himself over his ego.

"Were you the ones who hurt the boy?"

The woman asked, putting both hands on the sides of her waist, ignoring Beniamo as if he simply just wasn't there.

Counting Lorenzo, Beniamo, and Edoardo, there were thirty-four masked people right now; most of them probably arrived while he was talking to Lorenzo. The Grande Maestro wasn't present; did he thought something was going to go wrong and left after leaving Flavio? Edoardo couldn't tell when did he left.

Beniamo was trembling out of rage for being ignored; how could he be ridiculed two different times on the same day in front of everyone? Unacceptable.

"If Beniamo does something, I will cast the spell I used to get away during the twelveth summoning. Be near me."

Edoardo whispered in such a low voice that Lorenzo, who was at his right, had trouble hearing him, but he understood nonetheless. No reply was needed.

Flavio started coughing. It seemed like the paralysis was running out of effect.

"Couldn't you hear me? I don't like to repeat myself; were you the ones who hurt the boy, yes or no?"

Not a single one of the thirty-four replied or did something. Except for Beniamino.

He closed the remaining distance between him and the woman and put his left hand on her chest. Everyone hold their breath, even Flavio.

"SAY YOUR NAME WOMAN!"

Beniamino wasn't a fool; he was beyond stupidity.

None of the presents expected him to do that. But the most surprised by far was the woman. Everyone could tell by her expression that she just realized Beniamo was there, and his existence disgusted her; it was similar to seeing a big fat fly sit down on your food.

"You have one second."

She warned.

"Obey me woman."

Edoardo realized he still had the dagger on his hand, so he quickly hid it, praying the woman didn't realize he was the one who stabbed Flavio.

"Ira del cielo."

There was a blue flash and a roar. Beniamo's hand was on the floor. The woman just said the spell with zero hand movement.

"YOU DAMMED WOMAN!"

Beniamino raised his other hand. The other members raised theirs too.

"Ut nox cum luna movet, non me solum, sed socios meos incolumem dabo."

A black veil covered Edoardo and Lorenzo. In just a moment, they disappeared.

"You want to keep going?"

The woman asked, raising an eyebrow. This time she extended two fingers of her right hand without taking it from her waist.

"MALEDIZIONE DELLA PUTRE—"

"L'elettricità è il futuro."

From the fingers she had extended, blue lightning came out, making Beniamo's head disappear as if it vaporized and then striking every single one of the remaining masked men in a chain reaction.

She had killed forty-two people with a movement of her fingers and five words. Only her and Flavio remained.

"Are you still alive boy?"

She suddenly said turning to Flavio, her usual authority replaced with true concern.

"Y-yes..."

He answered weakly, he had lost approximately a liter of blood and needed urgent medical attention.

"What is your name?"

She asked, kneeling towards him and putting her hands on his wounds. Being both of them without clothes would usually make Flavio feel ashamed, but he was so hurt he didn't even realize he was nude, and she didn't seem to care either.

"Fla-flavio Sartori."

"Anche l'essere umano funziona con l'elettricità."

Flavio felt electricity running all over his body, but this time it wasn't painful; instead, he felt relived and energized. Was she healing him?

"Your name is Flaflavio?"

She said it with a smile, almost giggling.

"N-no-no, it's Flavio I ju-just... Stuttered!"

"Hmm, you amuse me, Flavio. My name is Elettra Balossi."

She said while looking directly into his eyes.

"Elettra Balossi."

He repeated it to not forget the name of his savior.

"Now that you know my name, answer me, Flavio, would you marry me?"