"Lost Nation - Escalation I" by Antony Bailey

Light spilled from the tome turning the room an emerald green. The texture of the pages forming lines, twisting and contorting into words and sentences. Once again he sat to chronicle the foretold. Night after night he watched events appear in writing, decoding the ancient languages and riddles in hope of being one step ahead of the game.

His name is Simon Maple, a scribe in the service of ‘The Order of the Shield’. It is his duty is to read through the many tomes, the countless news articles and reports, to find signs of intrusion into our world.

It is important to understand that the mortal realm is under constant infiltration by forces that most of us would find difficult to comprehend. Powerful demons, creatures of a hellish netherworld, push through into the weak minded and the corrupt. Once in our world they sow deceit and distrust, forming cults of worship to bring forth more of their kind.

In ancient times great warriors from the skies scoured our world of these creatures, they fought upon the great plains and much legend was told of their battles. In recent times the warriors have disappeared, leaving the fledgling race of mankind to fend for itself.

Since the disappearance of these warriors, those who know the existence of the demonic hold a constant vigil against the darkness, recruiting those who have special ‘talents’ to help their cause.
Mystics, warriors and scribes, those of great faith battle the demons together. This goes on behind the scenes, a thankless existence which they endure to keep our world safe.

Simon scanned through the words twisting within the pages, his quill taking them down and decoding them, his ‘talent’ allowed him to read and translate the ancient languages at phenomenal speeds.

His usually expressionless face began to show signs of fear. The usually cryptic symbols warping within the pages turned to clear images cast into the air above the tome. Scenes of devastation filled his vision, the pages showing him in glorious colour the events of days to come.

Fires burn as mankind turns on itself, a great city lying in ruin and the dead walking the land. A powerful master of evil rises from their world and turns the sky black, warping the landscape to his very whim. Then the view is blocked by a great storm, the images fade to darkness and the light of the scriptures dies out. This was the legend of the Dark Messiah, the reason he had been given the most powerful of the scriptures, the destiny scrolls. He has to warn the others of his order.

He ran, with a prayer on his lips that he’d misread these images. There was no time to clarify, now he needs to get back to the others, to plan the days to come, the very survival of mankind is at stake. Gripping the scriptures tightly in his arms, Simon ventured out of his flat into the dark London streets. He tried to ring the others in his order on his mobile, frantically dialling the number. There was no signal, no way to get a message through.

“Calm down Simon” he said to himself, “there is still time, we are still one step ahead.”

He wasn’t convinced.

As he made his way down the city streets he could feel a presence following. Daring to look behind Simon saw the silhouettes of three large men. He remembered the teachings of his master, that he was never to take the tomes outside of his abode.

“They great enemy can sense magics like a shark can smell blood.” his master used to say, “To take the scriptures outside without the proper rites being intoned is very dangerous indeed.”

As he was carrying the most powerful of the scriptures it was obvious who his pursuers were.
He broke into a run once more. The station was not far now, maybe he could lose them there.

By Antony Bailey and Adam Gomm

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