Six months ago a young man was dying. He laid there with his back at the steps of a gate that seemed to lead to nowhere. Indeed, it led to nowhere. The ancient stones, with the carved symbols from a time eons ago, stood erect and out of place from its desert origins. Instead, it stood in front of a sign detailing when it was discovered, who discovered it and what it could be for. The name it was given, “Twilight’s Gate,” was in bold and underlined.

The young man looked up at the ceiling. It was glass domed, and he can see through it. It was night. The moon was full and the stars twinkled brightly.

He started coughing and felt something sticky wet on his hand. He brought that hand up to his face and saw a coat of red blood. He tried to move, but a sharp pain in his back stilled him immediately.

He wondered how he got here? Where was his partner? Why was he lying on the steps of a monument dragged thousands of miles to be placed in this museum?

Perhaps it was the blood loss, or he was having those, “flash your life” before your eyes moment, but it seemed like he was replaying what had happened hours before….

“So I hear you’re the boy wonder? The once in a thousand years,” said Marcus, a young man with curly red hair. He was on a skateboard as she leaned against the wall with folded arms. He was wearing a grey faded shirt and torn jeans. This was a contrast to the other young man whom he was conversing with who wore a gothic outfit that seemed to come out of Hot Topic. Probably did.

“I hope that isn’t why you called me out here,” said the other young man. He was taller than Marcus but much skinnier in build.

“No, Elijah, I wouldn’t waste the time of the son of the High Priestess,” said Marcus, putting extra emphasis on the word, ‘son.’ “I just thought you’d like to know why the coven had been so nervous around this.” He thumbed behind him at the wall he was leaning.

“Yes, there was word out that everyone stay away from here,” said Elijah, slightly annoyed.

“Rumor is that it holds a great ancient power,” said Marcus. Then he shrugged. “Or it can utterly be nothing. You know rumors. Most of the time, it is not true.”

“But sometimes they are true,” countered Elijah. He was very much interested. “Funny, I actually heard it was holding a powerful curse.”

Marcus grinned. “A cover up?” he asked, intrigued.

Elijah sighed. It was his hallmark after all. Spreading rumors and misinformation in order to seek out powerful magic before anyone else can. “So you want to go investigate it? What if,” his lips upturned a bit, “Hammer already got his hands on it?”

Marcus crossed his arms. “No, I am confident he hasn’t. The East Coast Coven are observing his movements in Europe. Apparently, there is something greater than here,” he said.

“Or misdirection,” said Elijah. “Still, it is worth investigating.”

“I expect no less. Shall we enter then?” said Marcus with a half sort of bow.

Elijah let out a puff. He knew if it wasn’t for his pedigree and his status as a savant, Marcus wouldn’t be so courteous with him as he is now. “Go, lead the way,” he said.

Marcus, his eyes not leaving Elijah, placed his left hand on the wall. “Open sesame,” he grinned.

The brinks in the walls made a grinding noise and parted away, leaving a perfectly rectangular opening. “You can hold your praise,” said Marcus, still grinning.

Elijah shook his head, but he grinned as well. It was hard not to. He entered through the opening, followed by Marcus. Marcus waved a hand, and the opening closed in on itself as if it was never there.

Once inside, Elijah summoned a ball of light. The light just hovered over his left shoulder as he surveyed his surroundings. To his left was the bones of a T-Rex, looking as formidable as it would have been in real life. To his right were rows of glass in cased artefacts. Most of them seem to have hieroglyphics.

“Was this Egyptian exhibit or something?” asked Elijah. He was slightly confused as there was the T-Rex and a few other non-ancient Egyptian related items lying about.

“Yes, but it's ending. So they started moving back the old stuff,” said Marcus. He put his hands on his hips. “Don’t worry about the night guard. I gave him something special,” he said as he started walking toward a staircase.

“Sleeping spell?” asked Elijah concerningly. When it comes to magic, their magic, anything done to another human being came back three times. This was the Law of Three. And there was no time table on when that would happen. It could happen in the next minute or a few weeks down the line.

“No, I put sleeping pills in his coffee before closing,” smirked Marcus. “Do you take me for a novice?”

“No, I, just,” said Elijah, a bit caught off guard with the question. He didn’t mean to be offensive. He knew Marcus was about to take a test to become a third grade and be completely dedicated to the Craft and has already shown some mastery at least in object manipulation.

Marcus laughed. “I didn’t think the mighty Elijah gets tongue tied.”

“I don’t,” said Elijah. “I just didn’t mean to come off as an asshole.”

“None taken. C’mon, let’s go find this awesome power,” said Marcus as he nudged for them to go upstairs.

Elijah followed Marcus up the stairs. The red curly haired man led the way. Once they reached the top, they went down a hallway that opened up to a room with many cubicles and rooms. They twisted and turned around rooms and cubicles until they reached another set of stairs. They went up the stairs and then down another set of stairs.

“Do you even know where we are going?” asked Elijah when they reached the bottom.

“Nope. I thought you’d have some sort of secret power seeker spell,” grinned Marcus. “Or maybe I just wanted you to chase me.”

“What?” Elijah was a bit flabbergasted. Not sure if it was the first or second statement.

Marcus seemed a bit disappointed. “Um, I was hoping you could feel it out or something,” he added quietly. “The magical power. If any.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, as far as I know, don’t have such a spell. However, I can read this.” Elijah jutted a thumb at a stone tablet on display next to them. “Interestingly, it doesn’t say to stay away.”

Marcus lifted a curious eyebrow. “You don’t say?”

“Seek the power that holds… can’t make out the next set of symbols. Too ineligible,” read Elijah.

“Then we go that way,” said Marcus as he moved past Elijah, slightly brushing his knuckles against Elijah’s arm as she passed and toward an exhibit showing more artefacts from ancient Egypt.

Elijah followed Marcus and wondered why he was letting the red haired man lead. If anything, he should be leading as someone who is from one of the Zodiac families. Marcus, as far as he knew, was from some minor line of some non-zodiac family. And then there was this weird feeling building up in his stomach. Was it nervousness at the thought that Hammer would be here?

“You going to just stand there until dawn?” asked Marcus who had stopped and turned around. “You like to do that a lot, don’t you? Stand around at random times lost in thought.”

Again, Elijah didn’t know what to say in response. He just shook his head instead and said, “Just lead.”

Marcus shrugged and turned around, walking toward a large curtain. “Seems like this one is the centerpiece.” He grabbed a piece of the large curtain and swung it away. He made a loud whistle. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s big.”

Before them was a dark blue platform and on that platform were stairs that lead up to two fifteen feet pillars that encased a large stone door. On that door were many symbols and drawings.

Elijah started up the platform and then went around it to see what was behind it, but there was nothing. “Seems like it’s just the stairs and that door.”

“You call that a door? Door for whom? A giant? Better not be Godzilla,” said Marcus as he started up the stairs. “We will be in shit if Godzilla popped out the doors.”

Elijah, rolling up his eyes, went back to the front of the platform and started up the stairs, following Marcus. “Well, I can tell you that isn’t Egyptian on the door,” he said to Marcus. When he reached the top, he paused next to Marcus, who seems to be trying to read the symbols on the door. “Why are you trying to read it?”

Marcus turned to Elijah and playfully nudged the lankier man’s shoulder. “Didn’t I say I wasn’t a novice? I was trying to see if there was a magic booby trap.”

Elijah shook his head but stopped midway. “Y’know what, I think you may be onto something.”

Marcus scrunched up his eyebrows. “So, there is a magic booby trap?”

“No, maybe, but the point is these.” Elijah made some hand movements in the air. Green sparks flowed out of his fingers that ran down to the floor and up the pillars. Then they spidered out across the door and touched each symbol.

The symbols started to glow and move around. They warped and changed shape. Swirling and swirling, it seemed the symbols were never going to settle. Then they disappeared.

“What did you just do?” said Marcus, almost in a whisper.

“Gave it a little power up,” smirked Elijah.

Suddenly the room was filled with heavy hair and a powerful gust of wind twirled around the stoned door, threatening to knock the two men off the platform.

“Hey, take my hand,” shouted Marcus as he reached out to Elijah.

Elijah, who could feel himself about to be blown off the platform, grabbed onto Marcus’ hand. His legs went underneath him. Then he was in the air with only Marcus keeping him from flying off.

“I got you,” shouted Marcus.

Elijah looked down and saw Marcus' feet sunken into the floor. If he could, he’d be grinning. The red haired man seems to have invoked another object manipulation spell. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was impressed.

“What do we do now?” shouted Marcus, who pulled Elijah closer to him by sheer strength with one arm.

“Wait,” shouted Elijah.

Then it stopped.

Elijah flopped down, but Marcus caught him in time before he hit the ground. They found themselves in an embrace and staring into each other’s eyes. For a while, they kept their current position, not sure what was going on.

“You, uh, alright?” asked Marcus finally.

“Yeah,” answered Elijah, almost breathlessly. He gently pulled away from Marcus and looked at the door. “Look, as I thought. These symbols are magic created.”

Marcus turned and went wide eyed. “Greetings,” he read out loud. The word was in English. “How?”

“I guess that crazy wind was it scrying us,” said Elijah but wasn’t all too sure if ‘scrying’ was the right word. It was more like it had spiritually, in its own way, searched through their souls and learned what it can do to make them understand.

“It?” said Marcus. “You make it sound like this door is alive.”

“It’s the magic on the door. That is what is alive,” said Elijah mystically. “And you call yourself not a novice?”

“Ha,” snorted Marcus. “That’s a good one.”

Elijah smiled but quickly turned his attention back to the door, which seemed to be writing another message.

“What do you come for?” read Elijah.

“Uh, we heard there was great power?” said Marcus at the door. He looked at Elijah with a raised eyebrow.

Elijah only shrugged.

The words began to form another sentence.

“The power you seek does not exist here,” read Marcus. “I don’t think I like where this is going.”

They watched as the last sentence was repeated over and over down the door.

Elijah snapped back and watched a shadow emerge from the floor in front of the door. It began to take shape. “It’s a curse,” he shouted. “Damn it!” Without thinking he took from his belt a blunt knife with a crooked blade. The handle was smooth despite the intricate carvings of animals. This was his athame, a gift from his mother on his eighteenth birthday, and it granted him a connection to an ancient god that dwells in the forest.

“Let’s just run,” said Marcus, who made a symbol in the air. The floor lurched forwards forming a barrier between the two and the shadow still forming.

“I can beat it,” snapped Elijah. He lifted his athame in the air using both of his hands. “Be gone!”

A bolt of constant green energy shot out of the tip of the knife, smashing through Marcus’ barrier and into the shadow. A battle raged as the color of neon green and black tried to out eclipse each other in a twirling mess. Elijah stood his ground and gritted as he kept his energy pouring out. The curse, the shade, the whatever dark thing was very strong.

“Elijah,” said Marcus as he came behind the skinner man. He clasped his hands around Elijah’s and lent his energy.

Red bolts started to shoot out of the tip of the athame and it too joined the twirling battle between green and black. Soon the Shadow shrunk, overwhelmed by the red and green energy. Then, with a small whimper, it was gone. Evaporated into the air.

Elijah sank into Marcus, feeling the release. He was drained to the point that he dropped his athame. The clang of metal against the stone floor reverberated throughout the museum.

“Well, I guess that’s why you're the one in the thousand,” said Marcus breathlessly. He was barely holding himself up, let alone hold Elijah up, but he didn’t mind.

Elijah just closed his eyes. He was tired.

“Hey, that door is saying something,” said Marcus.

Elijah opened his eyes and turned to the door.

The word “behind” was written.

“Shit,” said Elijah as he pushed away from Marcus, which caused him to fall backwards. In the corner of his eyes he caught sight of a dark figure, holding something glinting sharply in the moonlight, lurched at them.

From there, Elijah could remember bits and pieces. He remembered hearing Marcus cursing, feeling pain in his back and something cracking before he hit the floor, losing consciousness.

Hours had passed when his eyes fluttered open. Pain wrecked his body and he could feel wetness around him. He lifted his hand and under the spilling moonlight, he saw blood coating his finger. He groaned as he tried to get up but only managed to lift off a half of an inch before giving way back to the stones?

It was uncomfortable, but he was sure that somehow he was on the stone stairs. Perhaps the Shadow knocked him out here? Where was Marcus? He tried to turn his head but didn’t have the energy. All he could do was look up into the glass ceiling of the museum.

He coughed, tasting blood before a dark liquid came out of his mouth. Was this death? He closed his eyes, having no energy left to even think. He was dying. Someone spoke to him. He couldn’t make out the words, nor could he make out who it was.

“Mijo!”

Now he recognized the voice. “Mother?” he croaked. He cracked open an eye and saw at first a white blur hovering over him. Then, as he focused this time, the blur became an image of a dark haired woman with wavy hair looking down on him. He had her eyes, stormy brown eyes.

“Marcus! Young master!” Someone called out in the background.

“Take them to my house,” barked Elijah’s mother. “And send word to preparing two beds! Now go!”