The Hand of Jack Dark
by L C Cranston

Chapter 1 The Revealing

“Do you believe in Angels?” a deep far-off voice rambled as if talking to no one in particular. “I didn’t believe in them either. I was once Human,” the voice slurred slightly as if his tooth had fallen out “there goes another one,” he referred to his tooth as it plonked to the floor. “Don’t worry, that’s normal. Now where was I?” He scraped his leg along the floor but carried on. “Oh yes, soon the whole world will know about them, something is coming. I can see dread in my master’s eyes,” the voice groaned a bit, letting out his true nature as he continued. “Shhh, it's about to start” the voice hushed at no one and stood frozen, watching the small wooden box TV.

It was an ordinary day at the beginning of October. Portal doors had been the most efficient way of getting around for the Angels, the transport was fast, inconspicuous and easy to use, the only problem was bringing them to life, the noise of wood unfolding out of thin air and forming a door made quite a scene but once in place it was just a normal looking wooden door. This was the first time any Human, known to the Angels as ‘Wingless’, had seen one - both the door that appeared suddenly, and the magic behind it.

The politicians and the British Prime Minister immediately stopped their debating, the floorboards creaked as they stood up

in shock at what had appeared in the House of Commons of the British Parliament. Curious mumbling swept through the drab silent room as the TV crew that had always recorded the live debate found themselves suddenly focusing on the most amazing event ever to occur to Humankind, instantly televising this live throughout England, and seconds later it was broadcast on news channels across the entire world.

Dust shuddered off the wooden door as it came to an un- crumpled standstill. Everyone held their breath, watching the gold doorknob turn, and the Royal Angels come walking out one by one. They looked normal, as normal as could be expected, apart from their feathered wings, they looked no different from any other Human, each holding an oak staff in differing designs, glowing with twisted neon names, and wearing crowns atop their heads in a different shape and colour: white, red, blue, pink and green.

The eldest blue-crowned Angel dusted off his brilliant blue suit and pinched the knot of his yellow tie in a proud manner, his face creased with wearing lines amidst his Japanese features and long grey beard. He looked around the Chamber with abnormally bright turquoise eyes, his wiry spectacles glinted as he walked forward causing a floorboard to squeak and the politicians to nervously step back, some toppling backwards into their own leather seats. He took in a breath, and with a deep voice he started to explain why they had so rudely interrupted the Prime Minister and politicians in mid-debate.

“My friends, of England and the world, please do not be scared.” His Japanese accent echoed clearly through the high- ceilinged room. He casually ruffled his blue feathers, not realising he wasn’t putting the room at ease. “I am the Blue King, the King of Hydromancy, the eldest of the Royals. My name is MerloBrightwater.” As expected, hushed gasps and panic took over the room. “We are the Rulers, six Royal Angels made up of three

kings and three queens, who rule over the six auras of this world.” He hesitated, and took his spectacles off to continue, “on behalf of the Black Queen I apologise for her absence.” The Royals all bowed their heads out of respect as he paused for a few seconds, then put his spectacles back on. “Our kind have lived secretly from the beginning of time, and we are here today to finally tell Humans of our existence.” He gave a confident smile towards the camera.

The Human viewers watched in dismay, families across the world thought it was a joke, a TV prank of some kind, but for the Angels worldwide this was the start of their era - and they had never felt so proud.

The chamber laid in silence for several minutes, the politicians looked at each other, waiting to see what the Prime Minister would do and then laughter started to fill the room. As if on cue, the Blue King nodded towards the rest of the Royal Angels, signalling them to start their planned performance.

In an instant, the Red King waved his staff causing indoor Pyromancy fireworks to scatter fiery sparks from the ceiling, lighting up the room in red, scorching the politicians’ hair and clothes. The laughter soon stopped as he nonchalantly checked his nails watching the Humans pat out tiny flames all over the place. They had no time to run from the second barrage of magic as he raised his staff knocking the end back down on to the floor causing a red mist to rise and along with it several reanimated red skeletons, that had no trouble bursting through the wooden floorboards. The politicians scrambled frantically back, but it was too late, the skeletons were having too much fun, they had never played with Humans before.

“Order, ORDER!” The round-faced Speaker stood up and shouted until he was blue in the face but wasn’t heard through all the chaos. In disbelief, security guards were desperately trying to catch the skeletons, trying to hold onto one but it managed to escape by popping its hands off. The Blue Angel King finished by turning the jugs of water dotted around the room into water

nymphs, that jumped all over the politician’s heads, causing a few to run out of the chamber screaming. And as quickly as it had happened, silence fell onto the Chamber, the last skeleton put a bony finger under the Prime Minister’s chin to shut his gawping mouth and bowed before disappearing back underground, the floor repairing itself before their very eyes.

The Prime Minister gulped down his fear and desperately tried to compose himself by straightening his brown suit jacket and dusky hair. He looked sheepishly towards the Royals but before he could speak, another voice roared through the silence.

“ENOUGH OF THIS!” Renowned for his temper, as with all Pyromancy Angels, the Red King’s voice rumbled loudly, causing his dark red hair to flop forwards, the lights to dim and the room to shake. “DO NOT TAKE US FOR FOOLS, WE ARE NOT MAGICIANS NOR TRICKSTERS, WE HOLD A POWER BEYOND HUMAN COMPREHENSION AND WE ARE HERE ON MORE PRESSING MATTERS!” His red wings flapped open in anger.

The front few politicians quickly knelt out of fear, as the Pink Queen placed a pale hand gently onto the Red King’s shoulder, squeezing the maroon velvet of his coat softly causing the King to instantly relax, a calming effect all Harmancy Angels possess. Her voice was as sweet as crystallised sugar, drawing everyone to her beauty, as with all Pink Angels, capturing their attention instantly as she bent forward to help up the few kneeling politicians at the front.

“We are not here for your worship either,” she leant on her staff to pull herself back up gracefully, as the Blue King agreed.

“Quite right,” he gave a stern glance at the Red King who was now shrugging his way to a spare chair, having been calmed by the Queen. “We are here to warn you of a great danger that will not only affect Angels but Humans alike.” The politicians strained to look away from the Pink Queen as the Blue King continued. “It has been foretold by the Grey Wing, that a

dormant curse will return on the day of death.” He stamped the floor with his long blue staff - called ‘Umiko’ - its name swirling around the end in neon blue, wobbling up and down with his force. The politicians mumbled between themselves, trying to make sense of what they had just heard.

With his hands, the Blue King summoned a fog that rose from the ground in twisting blue shapes, showing a mountain landscape with a snowy, jagged top. His words became graver. “The first time this curse roamed the Earth, we imprisoned it in a mountain not visible to mankind. Many died that day, and if the prediction is correct then...” he coughed, trying to catch his breath, as the Green Queen laid a hand under his frail arm, causing a few colourful flowers to sprout onto his knuckles. Her power was, of course, nature. He caught his breath as the young White King shakily joined in.

“N-not just any curse, a living curse, a curse that is made of flesh and bone. Wingless in appearance, it can devour and consume the living soul.” He inclined his head trying to look past the ceiling, flopping his white hair back. “God save us all.” His voice cracked between the politicians’ worried mumbling of what the Angels had just said.

The Blue King shook his head gravely as he put a hand on the White Kings shoulder encouragingly.

“But what we do know, is that its powers can drain you of your soul with just one touch.” His audience gasped. “We have had two Great Angels go missing already, feared dead.” He switched hands and continued, “they truly are Demons.” He whispered his last few words as the broadcast abruptly stopped as if removed from TV stations on purpose.

A lady that had been watching the whole thing, blinked with shock at what she had just witnessed. She stared at the ‘we are experiencing technical problems’ wording on the TV screen for some time, then nervously turned it off.

Jack, her son, a young twelve-year-old boy, was oblivious to the televised commotion. He had found a dead rabbit in the woods a few miles away, and was aiding it into the afterlife, or so he thought. He had always had this power, to see the dead. His abnormally bright blue eyes shifted to the emerald-green moss around the dead body, as he placed it like a beautiful forest funeral. The branches above seemed to bow towards him, like a gentle magnet.

“I’m sorry you died.” He whispered out wafts of air into the cold as he spoke to the rabbit ghost in front of him. “You can leave and go to your rabbit god now.” He didn’t even know if rabbits had gods, but thought it was appropriate to encourage the spirit to leave so they wouldn’t get stuck amongst the living. The ghost moved closer and raised up on his hind legs, but instantly vanished into a runaway mist as twigs were crunched underfoot, and Jack was grabbed from behind and lifted high into the air by the back of his jacket collar.

“New boy, you’re always talking to yourself, we could smell the poor reeking from you a mile away.” It was Mason’s cruel voice, a boy he had known less than a week after moving to Manchester. A boy he had figured out to be the local bully, much taller than Jack, and in the higher years of school. He preyed on the smallest and weakest with his local gang of wannabes.

Jack scoffed out a laugh, showing he wasn’t scared, which in turn infuriated Mason even more.

“What the hell are you laughing at?” Mason spat as Jack spun slowly to view him.

“Your face.” Jack remarked casually, as he caught Mason’s followers from the corner of his eye trying to hold back a laugh.

“He’s calling you ugly, Mason.” One dared to speak up, which annoyed him even more, his cheeks puffed up as he went red in the face.

“That is true, I am calling you a joke.” Jack agreed, as Mason’s followers took a cautious step back. “For all the times you have

picked on smaller kids like me.” Jack causally continued, as he tilted his head causing his dark hair to flop to one side, then raised an eyebrow before grabbing Mason’s broad shoulders and head- butting him.

With a splatter of blood, he let go of Jack instantly, crying out through gritted teeth as Jack rolled to dizzying stop.

Jack didn’t seem to care how large Mason was, built like a beef steak dinner. His mother’s words were ringing in his ears, telling him to “control his anger”, but it was too late.

“Get him,” Mason ordered, cradling his nose in pain as Jack was dragged to his feet by two others. The cut on his head seeping as he stared at Mason in front of him in a concussed manner.

“You have something on your face there, Mason.” Jack slurred out a laugh as he watched the blood trickle from Mason’s possibly broken nose. “Who did that to you?” Jack seemed proud of himself as he asked sarcastically, as if his own anger issues stopped him from being scared or he wasn’t afraid to die as they dragged him to the nearest river. His life went into a blur and for a second, he regretted provoking Mason, but only for a second, as his head was dunked into the freezing cold water, waking him up to the situation.

He struggled, but too many were holding him under. One by one, muffled water-clogged screams came from above him, as the surrounding reeds started tangling with Mason and the others above, pulling them away as if helping. Then, he heard a watery dog bark and a man yelling. Jack surfaced, to see a local farmer had chased them off. The next moments found Jack at his caravan door with the farmer in tow, knocking it loudly with his cane.

Jack’s mother opened the door, blinking at how wet Jack was. “What happened now?” She sighed out the words loudly as if it was normal to see him come home dishevelled.

“Ah, ya see Mrs Dark, I’m happy for ya to stay on my land, but please keep ya boy away from the riverside. It’s a dangerous

place to play, that boy pushed ya’s in.” The farmer looked down at his dog, “lucky Jamison heard him,” he squinted back up at Jack. “I didn’t hear a thing, and that boy Mason is no good. Don’t hang around with the Pollocks, the family are, well, powerful. Ya got that boy?”

“I didn’t ask him to be there,” Jack shook his head in anger, “and he’s no friend.”

“Mason? You promised not to get into any more fights here,” his mother quickly wrapped him up into a towel and tutted at seeing the cut on his head. “Thank you for finding him,” she smiled at the farmer as an out of place black limousine came rolling into the field.

They watched as a very well-dressed large lady, also looking completely out of place, stepped out of the car. Her high heels instantly squished into the mud, she wobbled a bit as the chauffeur came running to her aid, then composed herself and wrapped her fur coat further up her neck, the late sun catching the cluster of diamonds peeking through on the necklace underneath.

“Mrs Dark?” The lady literally spat out the name in wafts of cold air, as a boy stepped out of the car door. It was Mason, his nose bandaged in several places, red and swollen. Jack couldn’t help but laugh under his breath. The lady inhaled a light gasp at Jack’s reaction.

“Is this the way your son acts towards the things he has done to my Maymay?” Her voice pitched higher as she held out paperwork. “Maybe this is how poor people act, undignified. I will wipe that smirk off your son’s face soon enough,” she gave a wicked smile “you’re lucky my Mason’s nose wasn’t broken, however we will be pressing charges over this matter.” She coldly threw the papers to the floor in front of them.

“Oh really?” Mrs Dark burst from the doorway of the caravan, stomping over the papers, pushing them into the mud, and got

so close to the woman, she could smell the tuna and cucumber sandwich on her breath from lunch that day.

“Mrs whatever-you-are, it seems like you have us confused with someone else.” She looked up and down at Mason, “doesn’t look like my son could hurt your bully of a son, he’s huge.” Her voice was firm and demanding, making Mrs Pollock fall back into the seat of the limo. “And if you dare to go to the police regarding this, I will have no option but to report that your son tried to drown mine.” She smiled pleasantly, holding back her anger. “Obviously, if he hurt Mason, it was in self-defence.” She picked up the paperwork without looking at it and slopped the muddied pages into her lap. “Bye-bye now.”

Mrs Pollock had to quickly pull her feet in as the car door slammed shut. Jack’s mother walked back to the caravan, dusting off her hands triumphantly, as the limousine drove off with a very frustrated twosome in the back seats. The farmer clapped at her bravery. She bowed sarcastically in a posh, over the top manner, as Jack laughed and clapped with him.

“You can call me Hestia,” she nodded at the farmer as he waved goodbye laughing in amazement.

It wasn’t until much later that Jack had found out about the news of the Angels. His eyes were still glued to the TV as he sat with his mother in their small white caravan. Every TV station had reports on the Angels, documentaries sprung up, chat shows, and the news were all about the Angels.

Hestia knew she couldn’t hide Jack from his future any longer, the time was getting close, the autumn leaves, dusky brown and purple, had blown down around where they had set up camp, and Jack’s birthday was very soon.

To him, he was just an ordinary boy. An ordinary boy that can talk to dead animals, that is. He was feeling a connection and couldn’t get it out of his head.

That week, Jack had noticed the change almost immediately. Recruitment had started, they were building an army ready for the Curse. Rainbow coloured posters and fliers could be seen everywhere, each one encouraging their own aura Angels to join up, some were even blown up by the winds down the streets. A handful of Humans believed the prophecy, but the majority chose to ignore it. The cities and towns became more futuristic, white and clean, the shop signage and street advertisements had become more vivid and magical, even Big Ben had its time circling it in neon blue.

Angels everywhere were finally able to show off their magic aura colours, their hair and eye colour became more vibrant, they stood out, not just because of their wings, they wore 19th century suits in their own aura colours, followed by an entourage of fairies or creatures called Familiars, which are random spirit animals that assist Angels. It might look normal to them, but going shopping with a cat, let alone a Gryphon was not normal for any Human. Jack had even heard a bizarre conversation between a Blue Angel and his octopus spirit, which sat clinging to the end of his staff, as they walked past. They were talking about baking a chocolate cake, and discussing what ingredients to get.

It made Jack think of the BBC news report that morning, “Mrs Pertwig, from London, was asked by a white cat where to find the butternut squash in the supermarket near her home. She explained that she was so shocked, she fainted on top of the cabbages and sprained her ankle.” Jack couldn’t help but laugh at the thought and then hurried to catch up with his mother.

There were two types of Human in the world - ones that loved the Angels and wanted to worship them like a fan club, and ones that despised them, and they didn’t hide that fact. Some Humans were angrily moving away from the Blue Angel, some were even throwing stuff at him, knocking his small octopus off its perch. Jack didn’t hesitate to double back to intervene, the rowdy group

stopped as Jack stood between them, not wanting to hurt one of their own kind, especially not a little boy. A few moments later the angry mob had dispersed. Jack knelt and picked up the octopus for the Angel.

“Don’t tell me, Black?” The Angel smiled at Jack “You’re a Black Angel, right? I can feel your aura from here.” Jack looked up at the Angel, his blue wings tucked back so as not to get in anyone’s way, and yet Jack could feel it too, the Angel’s aura, Blue. It was as if he could smell it. No, it was most definitely a feeling.

“No, he’s not an Angel,” Jack’s mother appeared from behind, her hands firmly held onto Jack’s shoulders. “Sorry we must be going, busy day ahead of us.” She smiled sheepishly at the Angel. Jack quickly handed the clinging octopus back to the Angel and headed off with his mother.

“What a weird feeling, could have sworn she was an Angel too,” he watched them hurriedly walk away, her hand pushing at Jack’s back. “T-thanks anyway,” he shouted, watching them disappear into the crowded street.

Jack silently walked beside her, he kept his eyes down to the floor as he dared himself to speak up about his abilities, talking to the dead animals that is. He gave a sideways glance up at his mother, but her eyes were locked on an advert on a billboard above, it moved like a TV screen.

“I'm ready to start my training,” a girl with blonde hair and bright green eyes beamed down, as if she was a giant above them. Deep green foliage surrounded her, and branches crunched under her feet. “Join me if you are ready.” She walked into a large clearing to show Smoothcoat Palace, the Palace of Naturemancy. Her clothes suddenly changed into a Palace uniform with a green tie, and she was joined by a boy who also had blonde hair and green eyes. “We, the soldiers of Smoothcoat, welcome all Naturemancy recruits into our Palace. Join us and learn what it is to be Green.” As they walked forwards the palace seemed todisappear into a flurry of flowers and butterflies.

Just as the police showed up to control the growing disturbances, someone below threw something at the billboard, making the screen crack, and fall to one side. The advert looped in a warped, damaged manner. “I’m rrreaddy to... staRt mY training,” the girl repeated, as the advert began melting off the screen.

The Angels had started advertising on TV, just like any other normal Army recruitment. But they weren’t normal, especially with training like Undeadology, which unwittingly prompted fear in the Humans across the world.

It was the daily TV chat shows that enlightened the Humans as to who these Angels were. Humans were still learning to either fear or love the Angels. The same thing was being repeated across the TV stations for days...

“It was written in The Book of All Seeing, the first book of Angel, the six colours of aura are White for Aeromancy the power of weather, Red for Pyromancy the power of fire, Blue for Hydromancy the power of water, Pink for Harmancy the power of Harmony, Green for Naturemancy the power of Nature and Black for Necromancy the power of Death. There was one Angel king or queen for each magic aura and under oath they had become a covenant to protect and nurture over the Angels of the world.”

Each day continued as usual, or not so usual, until that fateful day — the 31st of October — the day of Jack’s thirteenth birthday.

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