The Phantom

It was a night so cold and still, the fog hung as though frozen over the leaves and the roads were covered with a thick bed of snow

A closer look at a road through the woods showed a straight black line cutting through the snowy white road. The snow had been shoved to the side revealing the true face of the rod, the black line of tar.

But the black line had stopped and the carriage was leaning lean on its side. One of its wheels was off the ground but still spinning furiously; behind it was a faint skid mark on the snow, but it was quickly fading out; its other wheels were embedded in the snow, frozen in place.

The carriage was white and had golden engraving on its side. It was clear it belonged to someone of a high rank, but the crest on top of it denoted even higher rank; it was the crest of a great wizard, one of the only living ten.

The door of the carriage was open, and in front of it were shallow footprints leading away from it. The footprints lead into the woods, deeper and deeper into the shadows, going far from whatever little light came through the night clouds.

A screeching noise killed the silence of the woods as a white falcon flew out of the darkness. It flew in the opposite direction from the footprints and soared high above the trees.

It held a little note on its beak that dripped blood and it had some smeared on its wings too. It flew so fast, like something pursued it, and then, in an instant, a flash of light shot out of the depths of the woods.

It was lightning, a rare colored lightning, black as the night but still let out a white light. It struck the owl, but it did not smoke or burst into flames; it seemed like nothing affected it until it aged.

It aged so rapidly that in a matter of moments, its feathers fell off, its flesh dried away until it became a falling pile of bones, and the next moment was just a faint cloud of dust blowing in the cold wind.

"No!" a weary old voice cried from within the woods.

"Quiet father," a fair young voice cried, "he'll hear us."

The great wizard had cried as he watched his familiar of over two hundred years fade to dust. Clinging to him was his daughter, she had his arm across her neck and helped him walk

"We have to hurry, father"

"We can't call for help," he said. "We have to fight ourselves now; I can't let you fight; you can't, not while I'm here."

"But father," she said as they trudged through the snow, "you still have his dagger in you and your hairs have all gone gray, just what did he take from you"

"He's taken it all, Victoria, he's taken all my years; I've got nothing left; if I hadn't broken his hold at the time I did, he could have…"

"Don't talk father, let's go."

She pulled him along, he tried his best to support himself but the cold was getting to him. His knees were weak and his legs shivered. After a couple of steps, Victoria would pull him up, but she kept having a crawling feeling on her neck like a spider was walking across her nape.

"You're headed towards a cliff" a voice spoke, it echoed in her mind with a cold calmness, she turned around, terror in her eyes as she searched the darkness, but there was nothing there, nothing there to cause fear but everything began to spook her, the breeze, the trees, even the snow but especially the shadows, it was from the shadows that he had struck first.

She had seen a red blade thrust out of a dark corner of the carriage like a spear; before the great wizard could react, he stabbed in the gut.

She turned to her father and saw him still favoring the stab wound. Then she heard what sounded like footsteps behind her; when she turned, there was no one there.

She pulled him closer and said, "Father I fear we may be heading for a cliff"

He was breathing heavily and seemed too weary. "Go forward," he said. "there's nowhere else to go."

"Alright father."

The mist in front of her had cleared up and she could see the cliff up ahead. It all seemed odd to her, she looked around, clenching the wand on her waist. He tapped her hand and shook his head, saying, "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

She pulled him across the snow and they made it to the cliff. Immediately, the trees were behind them, the heavy snow on the cliff disappeared, and the air became lighter and warmer. It felt like a summer night, and trees smelt fresh, and the grass felt so alive as they crushed it under their leather boots.

The old wizard peers from his sunken eyes, looking around him, he turned to his daughter,

"He's here"

Victoria pulled out her wand and pointed it towards the wood; they stood on the rocks of the cliff.

"This was always your favorite Time of the year," a cold, calm voice spoke in the wizard's mind; he instantly turned to Victoria.

"Put that away," she wasn't sure what he meant, and in a fit of anger, he swung his arm and sent the wand flying off her hand.

"What are you doing!"

"Forgive me Victoria, but your skills would be of no use here"

"What are you saying, father"

"Forgive my dear," he took a deep breath and said, "KEEPERS LOCK ." His voice rang with far more intensity and depth; it echoed and stirred the very source of his magic, and instantly, glowing circles formed on his palms.

Victoria felt a sharp pain in her chest, she tried to scream but couldn't find the strength, she choked and scratched her throat, gasping for air. She saw her skin turn gray and wrinkly, and then she realized she was covered in a yellow aura, and so was her father.

"Father," she said in a fading voice. The great wizard turned to her, his face showing a brighter vitality than hers, then she fell on the grass and with the fresh summer grass on her winkled old face she saw her father for the last time.

A man stepped out of the shadows, he walked with the winter behind him and into the light of the moon

"A boy! "the great wizard said, his voice mixed with confusion and disgust. "you can't be just a boy"

The boy scratched his eyes like he seemed a bit sleepy, he looked around and saw the aged Victoria lying unconscious on the grass.

"You've done a dirty thing professor"

His words echoed in the mind of the great wizard,

"Don't speak like you know me, boy!" He spat on the ground and gave a groggy murmur. "You've done this to her, you imbecile, you forced my hands, how dare you to mess with the high order! Now give me back my years or die!"

"So that's it huh? You're betting her life on you beating me and getting your back." He placed his hand on his face and covered his eyes. "That's a little odd" – with his final word, he parted his fingers in pairs, revealing his left eye as it gave off a bright yellow flash – "but I like odds."

The wizard's face went pale, and fear filled his eyes like he was looking at a ghost.

"The dark lord? No! It can't be; I vanquished you!"

"And yet here I I'm, you've done nothing I'm sorry"

"No, it can't be!"The old man yelled, "I set the rules, you broke them, and you burned to nothing; I made sure of that."

"And yet here I am. again"

The wizard's expression had turned into one of bitter hatred; most of his wrinkles had smoothed out when he took Victoria's lifeforce, but newer ones were etching themselves now, each one born out of the intensity of his hate.

"So be it," his words carried the weight of a mountain. "The rule still stands!". On hearing this the young man smiled.

In a flash the great wizard's eyes shone like stars, with a bright blue light that peered out of his bushy white brow, causing his grimoire to manifest

"RULE!" The wizard said.

The young man smiled; he was dressed like a gentleman with a black suit and bolo tie with a green pendant; the only thing that made him look rather rugged was the white bandage wrapped around his forehead.

His eyes were big, but they seemed sharp and focused; every little detail seemed to be sucked into those deep black eyes. He exuded an unnatural calmness, it was insanity, most high ranking wizards would be shaking in their boots and grooving before the great wizard, Skarsgard the man known as the force of the north, but he seemed gentle and cold like he still had control somehow, despite grimoire, the great rule book being summoned.

The rule book had been the very book that immobile the world ender Imu and vanquished the dark lord. Depending on the opponent's power level, a rule cast from the rule book could be anything from; if you breathe, you die, to more severe and more calculated conditions.

"Now I shall cast a rule" the great wizard spoke like thunder

"Please go on ahead," he said, his voice landing like the song of birds, soft and gentle and with a glee in every note.

"I declare that your next move will vanquish you?"

The pages of the white book turned on a rapid pace and flipped shut, putting the rule into effect. He felt a warmness around his body, he looked around and saw a white aura similar to that around the book covering his entire body, he smiled and thrust out his hand to draw out his own grimoire

"You're dead, man,," The wizard said in a cold voice.

The young man looked at him, smiled,and said, "RULE!"

The wizard's eyes widened in shock; he was in disbelief for a split second but then realized he must be making fun of him; then he felt anger, but that anger died almost instantly as the grimoire manifested. It was an exact replica of his book.

"What!," he yelled, "what is this, how do you have that"

"You. you gave me"

"What?"

"Fifty years from now"

"What?" He looked confused

"Don't you get it," he said, "it's me. I'm your successor."

His brows furrowed and his face shifted in a mixture of horror and surprise as he finally realized

"You're from the future"

"Exactly, an hour ago you gave me this book; fifty years from now, don't try to wrap your mind around that; I'll hurt."

"You've used cursed magic just so you can come here, and for what, to seal my doom? Well, this will be your last mistake." the old man's eyes blared with rage.

His grimoire opened, and a green lightning shot out of it, a curse of death; the phantom smiled and blocked with his own copy; the lightning struck it, connecting both books.

"I'm sure you've never experienced this before but a grimoire can't act against itself"

"What!"

The magical energy transferred from one book to the next, the lightning changed colors rapidly, sparks flew out of them, and the great wizard tried to pull the book back but to no avail.

The energy from both books was compounding and repelling each other, it was swelling against itself into a catastrophic burst of energy. The wizard looked on in disarray; not having experienced anything like it in all his years, he took a step back, keeping his distance from it.

The phantom watched on, keenly waiting for his time; his tie danced in the wind amidst the raging chaos in front of him; he was ice cold, focused, and didn't move an inch.

The energy massed, and both books exploded into a flurry of sparks and energy that shot at them in a powerful wave; the phantom jumped into the heart of the blast.

The wizard was stunned by the brightness of it all; his eyes were too old and easily strained; the sparks shot at him and burned his skin, then in a flash, he saw a red blur, then the head of a snake coming at him, he quickly blocked it with his arm.

The fangs of the red snake sprang out and he expected a shot of venom but its eyes shined like rubies and its fangs like diamonds and with a flash of silver and a blade shot out from the depths of its belly and out its out its jaws, piercing through the wizard's arm and into his chest, stabbing his frail old heart.

The brightness dulled, and he could see clearly enough; he saw a red snake wrapped around the arm of the phantom, with him holding onto the head of the snake as a hilt as a silver blade protruded out of its mouth.

Clever boy, the wizard thought, there's so much hate in his eyes, but he can't be the dark lord, but still, he'll ruin this world; I mustn't let him. The wizard coughed up blood. Shards of the exploded grimoire fell on the ground, and he looked at them and said, "What's your name, young man?" the phantom smiled and said.

"Its ivan, ivan Blackzad"

"Blackzad huh?" the wizard said as he slowly raised his head and looked him in the eyes. "Blackzad if you're indeed as you say, he grabs the black, grasping it tightly, then you must die with me, I won't let you ruin Paradise"

The phantom tried to pull the blade back but it was stuck. The wizard's eyes burned with the fire of his youth, this would be his swan song, his final gift to the world he had lived for and sacrificed for all his life.

A heavy thundercloud troubled overhead, it seemed like it was churning in and out of itself, like it was cooking up a storm overhead, the phantom looked up and saw the clouds and rain began to fall, he knew this spell and what it could, so he said to him

"Don't let it rain, sir; it's only summer, and your daughter might get wet, too."

The wizard knew what he meant by this, but without hesitation, he spoke, "Any sacrifice is worth your extermination!"

"Why did I even ask when I know you've done so much worse? Alright, sir, carry on, it's fine with me."

The wizard coughed up a pale of blood as the phantom pushed the blade in, sending it through his heart then a rain of lightning descended on them, and the wizard grabbed his hand

"You must have been a fine apprentice, Ivan," he said.

Looking into his eyes, the phantom couldn't keep up his act, and for once, he had a genuine smile on his face; it wasn't a smile of mockery or triumph but one that held the feelings of many shared memories, then he said, "Not anymore, sir."

The wizard's head slumped over, and the lightning rain struck them both, scorching the earth to cinders.

Cold silence descended on the valley; everything was still and lifeless again, all excitements had died out, and the bleak whiteness of the winter took over; two soft feet landed gently on the snow; it was the phantom, and he barely made a dent in the ground.

He had the lady Victoria in his arms. He stood just by the carriage, he looked at it, and with a flash of his eyes, it took on a life of its own and stood upright, and he placed the lady inside.

Like a magician, he drew a black cloth from under his sleeve; it only got longer and longer, and when it was finished, it was a large black blanket, and he covered her with it.

He looked at his watch and looked up the road, following the black trail and the shoved snow down to the horizon and he saw the lights of an approaching carriage then he smiled and said

"Just in time," then he disappeared, like the mist at dawn.