He dreamt of chains.
How many nights had passed since Eirik had began having the same dream he could no longer tell. Eirik had been experiencing it months apart sometimes even weeks but now they frequented even more. He was in a dungeon, a prison of sorts as he had come to conclude. The air was thick here not just with dust and rot but with sorrow as well. The weight of it pressed against him wrapping around him like a shroud and every breath he took tasted of stone and blood.
He could not move as Iron bound his limbs, ancient and chains curved with runes that bound him in place. A muzzle stained with rust and dried filth sealed his jaw shut while his body was caked with grime his muscles aching from the stillness.
Though it was a dream his thoughts were not his own, his was never in control of the events that took place.
The scraping of chains in the distance.The murmurs of others prisoners like him he believed to be speaking in languages long forgotten. Some cried, some sung while others muttered nonsense through the darkness like curses. He had never seen any of them, but he knew for sure like him, they were forgotten.
Buried, imprisoned in a place long forgotten and always in the end came the footsteps.
Boots on stone.
A sudden light,harsh and blinding.
The door to his cell creaked open. He didn't look up, he never could as all he ever saw were the shadows and then the pain. A boot to his ribs, a blow to his skull. Always the same always brutal and always without reason.
Then the beating began.
He didn't scream he couldn't. The muzzle made sure of that but something inside him twisted not in fear, but in defiance.
And then ..... he woke.
Eirik shot upright in bed his chest heaving, sweat clinging to his bare skin.His heart thundered as his eyes scanned the stone walls of his chamber, his blankets tangled in a mess around him. His sheets soaked drenched in sweat and his hand trembled as he wiped his face.
Again.
The same dream, the same cell, he had no memory of when it began. A curse that greeted him night after night, as constant as the moon rose and fell in the night's sky. He sat up slowly, rubbing his face with one hand while the other dragged back through midnight black hair which was damp at the roots. His eyes a piercing blue gleamed faintly in the low morning light that filtered through the floor to ceiling windows of his penthouse apartment. He stared at his palms and saw faint crescent shaped scars that now marked his skin where his claws must have had dug in during sleep. Phantom pain clenched in his lower jaw where the muzzle had bitten down. Outside the skyline of Geneva stretched wide and far in mist, the Alps towering in the background like sleeping giants. It was a quiet city by human standards.
To the human world Eirik Vollen was a wealthy man beyond measure. He owned property and companies in multiple countries across the globe. Drove vehicles that turned heads and a name that passed quietly through elite circles. But in his world wealth was measured differently. Vampires, Witches, Lykans, Shapeshifters and many other Velari who were immortal, powerful supernatural beings that had walked the earth since ancient times. Some had been monarchs who had reigned over mortals, others collectors hoarding art and relics before empires rose and fell, time was their inheritance. So no. Eirik was not considered wealthy in his world for wealth was power. He may have been comfortable but he was no man of influence.
Atleast not yet.
The buzz of his phone cut through the silence. He reached for it from the nightstand, not bothering to check the caller ID. Only one person ever called him this early. He pressed it to his ear.
"Tariq"
"You sound like you didn't sleep well" came the familiar deep voice.
Eirik swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood. He was tall easily six foot five with a frame built from discpline and hard.
"I didn't" he replied, walking towards the wide marble bathroom. "The dream again"
A pause on the other end " The cell?"
Eirik exhaled slowly, jaw tightening."The same one. Same place, same chains"
There was a long silence, filled by the sound of Eirik brushing back curtains and letting the morning ligjt spill in.
"I doubt its just a dream Eirik" Tariq said eventually "And we both know it"
Eirik did not respond, instead he stepped into the bathroom and turned on the cold water, splashing it over his face over the sink. He stared into the mirror, droplets clinging to his lashes. For all his power for all his strength he had bled to earn, he still could not fight the shadows that clung to his soul.
"What's going on" he asked grabbing a towel changing topics.
"You free?" Came the reply.
Eirik sighed "Define free"
"I need you to meet me in person"
Eirik paused, Tariq wasn't one for dramatics. If he couldn't say it over the phone, it meant it was serious.
"Where?" he asked.
"That little café in oldtown. The one with the chessboard tables"
"Time?"
"Now"
"Tariq....."
"They asked for us by name" voice lower now.
Eirik's eyes narrowed at that "The both of us?" he asked.
"My exact reaction" he replied " See you soon"
The line went dead.
Eirik stood there for a moment staring at the window, at the centuries old rooftops layered like slate armour across the city.
Half an hour later Eirik was in front of the café. It was tucked along a narrow side street in Geneva's Old Town, Its wrought iron sign creaking faintly in the breeze. It was the kind of place that smelled of dark roasted coffee and aged wood.
Eirik stepped inside.
Light filtered through stained glass, windows casting muted colors across the wooden floor. He scanned the room once and spotted him seated near the back, calm as ever.
Tariq.
An African man with bronze like skin that seemed to glow under the morning light. Across his skin, ancient runes twisted in ink, his eyes were the deepest shade of brown Eirik had ever seen, nearly golden at the edges. His long dark locks were twisted and adorned with golden bands, matching the ones encircling his wrists.
Tariq always dressed sharp. Today he wore a crisp white shirt with black trousers with boots polished to a mirror finish. He wore two rings on his left hand, one a matte black ring on his ring finger, the other an iron band silver hued on his fore finger. Like Eirik Tariq was an immortal being called a Velari. But unlike him he was a Witch.
"You're late" Tariq said a half smirk playing on his lips.
Eirik slipped into his seat and Tariq pushed a cup of coffee across the table.
Eirik nodded in thanks and took a sip. "I'm listening" he said.
Tariq's smile droppedall business now. "We've been requested for a transport job" he said.
Eirik scoffed."Then foward it to Selene, She'll assign the proper team. We don't waste time with cargo runs"
"Like I said earlier, they asked for us specifically. Meaning they want both of us on the job"
Eirik stilled the cup paused mid air.
"Specifically us?" he asked.
Tariq nodded."Specifically"
Eirik set his cup down. "Thats rare"
"Indeed" Tariq said " They must be willing to spend a lot of money if they requested the both of us, especially if its just for a transport job."
"Forget that, I'm now more intrested in knowing what the cargo is that we are supposed to be transporting. Must be very valuable indeed any details?"
"None" Tariq replied. "Just a time and location, we are to be briefed on site"
"What else?" Eirik asked.
"That's all I got. I ran it past every network we could trust, it came back clean"
Eirik and Tariq had earned their reputation over the years. They had escorted digniteries across war torn borders, retrieved artifacts that had not seen the sun in Millenia. To the mortals they provided the best security the world had to offer but to the Velari they were much more.
"If they want us then they'll have us" Eirik replied standing. Tariq stood too, adjusting the cuffs on his shirt with a smooth motion.
"Good, I'll send the coordinates for the pick up point. We'll meet up there tonight"
Eirik reached for his coat. "Time?." he asked.
"Midnight. Gives us enough time to prep"
Eirik nodded "Fine by me"
They steeped out into the morning chill.
"I'll see you tonight then" Eirik said slipping his hands into his pockets.
"Try not to be late this time" Tariq said a grin tugging at his lips.
"I'm never late" he replied " You're just always early"
They parted.
The coordinates Tariq had sent arrived around 10pm. A simple string of numbers that pointed to the outskirts of Geneva where the city bled into forested hills and forgotten roads. He took one of his offroad cars just in case the road got rough. By the time he reached the gravel pull off it was nearly midnight. A lone figure stood under a flickering street lamp hands in pockets, coat stirring gently in the wind.
"You're late" Tariq said.
Eirik killed the engine and stepped out. "Like I said, I'm never late. You're just always early"
Tariq gave him a smile.
"What now?" Eirik asked walking up to him.
"We wait. Pick up should be arriving soon"
The silence that followed as they waited was'nt uncomfortable. These were the quiet stretches they'd always known and respected of each other.
Ten minutes later a black SUV woth tinted windows rolled into view, its headlights cutting clear arcs through the trees. The vehicle slowed, idled then came to a halt just a few feet away from them. The side door slid open. A woman stepped out, she was tall, dark haired and dressed in tactical gear with a long overcoat.
"Mr Vollen, Mr Aman" she said.
Both men nodded and without another word she gestured for them to get in. The drive took just under an hour, the SUV gliding through remote roads and winding passes. The silence inside the vehicle was absolute. There was no small tall, no radio, no sound but the faint hum of the engine.The woman said nothing else, and neither pushed her for answers as they knew they would eventually be briefedon the job. Eventually the SUV slowed as they approached what looked like an abandoned logistics compound nestled against a ridge, with iron gates manned by more guards than either of them had expected to see.
Tariq let out a low whistle " That's a lot of security." Eirik agreed.
The vehicle passed through the gates after a brief scan. Inside it was like a beehive with dozens of operatives moving around with clear purpose. Securing crates, testing comms, prepping armoured vehicles and the like.
The driver parked the vehicle near one of the central buildings. The woman stepped out and gestured for them to follow. Inside the hallways it smelled of cold metal and ozone enchantment residue Eirik noted. The place was heavily laced with protective wards. She led them to a briefing room, where a man in tactical gear as well was waiting. As they approached he looked up from the maps he was viewing his expression unreadable. "Gentlemen" He said. "I am Commander Alric Kessler and I will be overseeing this operation"
No handshakes.
The room behind him had already began to fill in with most wearing tactical gear. Eirik noticed most if not all were lykans.
"The mission is straightfoward" he began as he paced infront of a screen. "We will be transporting a high value cargo from this site to a classified location in Russia"
The map lit up behind him highlighting the route. The convoy will consist of two armoured vehicles ahead and behind of the primary transport unit in the center"
"And what exactly are we transporting?" Someone in the back asked.
"That is not your concern. Your job is to ensure that the cargo reaches its destination without incident" he replied.
"Then why not fly it out?" A woman this time " Driving across Europe given the value of this cargo is reckless. Would'nt flying be much safer and faster?"
A wave of murmurs passed through the room. The woman clearly having voiced a question that was on everyones mind. Alric's expression didn't shift, but the weight of his voice deepend.
"Because it is not meant to be above ground"
A beat followed.
"The runes that keep it contained draw power from leylines. Ancient ones that run underneath the old world, hence the route we are to follow. If we take to the skies we risk severing thay connection thus weakening the containment. This is not something we want"
Tariq lifted a brow " So it's magically tethered?"
Alric nodded. "The container draws its strength from these ley lines. The containment wards are only stable within the proximity of these lines. The further we stray, the weaker they get. And if they break....."
Erik finished the sentence. "Whatever's inside gets free."
"Precisely Mr Vollen and so we drive."
There were a couple of murmurs across the room but no further questions were raised.
Erik leaned slightly forward toward Tariq. "Still think this is just a standard job?"
Tariq's eyes remained on the screen mapping the route.
"Not for a second."
Alric continued, "You'll each be assigned to a team. Vollen, Aman, Lévesque and Varga, you'll be with me directly under the cargo transport."
The woman who had first arrived with Erik and Tariq stepped forward.
"Follow me," she said, voice crisp. "I'll take you to the containment bay."
Erik fell into step beside her. "You never told us your name."
She gave him a sideways glance.
"Commander Lira Voss."
"Figures" A lykan said who Eirik assumed to be Varga.
Tariq glanced back at him. "You know her?"
Karl snorted. "Heard of her. Voss the Viper, cleaned out an entire rogue den up north by herself. She's got a reputation for getting things done and leaving a trail of bodies behind."
"I prefer the term efficient." she replied.
They descended two levels, the fluorescent lights above flickering once before stabilizing. The air grew cooler, heavier as the hum of engines or machinery intensified. Reinforced doors parted with a hydraulic hiss revealing the containment chamber.
Inside, a massive obsidian monolith sat in the heart of the chamber. Matte black, its surface shimmered subtly not with light but with the absence of it.
It devoured shadow.
Sera Lévesque stopped in her tracks.
"Is that...a...a null box?" she breathed, eyes wide. Tariq stepped forward, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.
"A fully active null box. I thought only high circles kept those." he said clearly not expecting to see one especially not in the possesion of Lykans.
Lira turned to them. "We are borrowing this one for the transport. What's inside has been deemed too powerful and dangerous to be left unbound. Miss Lévesque and Sir Aman, you are to reinforce the null box with your magic. We are not taking any chances."
Erik raised a brow. "To add more magic to a null box, surely whatever is inside can't be that powerful. That seems like overkill."
"I assure you, Mister Vollen," Lira said, "You have no idea."
Sera stepped closer her eyes scanning the runic etchings glowing faintly at the corners.
"Some of these sequences are ancient," she whispered. "The layering is genius, but flawed in structure." Her pen traced a pattern, then she glanced at Tariq. "You could overlap these with an inverse binding. It'll boost the seal without triggering feedback."
Tariq raised a brow, clearly impressed. "Impressive. You've studied Ye'ari matrices?"
She smiled faintly. "Speciality of mine."
They went to work. With swift and fluid movements, the two witches set to work. Fingers traced glyphs, spells fell from their lips and fresh runes flared to life across the surface of the box. The tattoos on Tariq's skin began to glowhis tattoos flaring with a golden color, the air buzzing as power was drawn from the two lines feeding the containment bay bolstering the null box field.
Karl Varga leaned towards Erik. "If that box's contents are as strong as the shield around it we're hauling a goddamn storm."
Eirik did'nt answer. His eyes were on the runes. On the magic. On the box.