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Wednesday, 6 March 2013

Chapter 36 - The Last King of Shambhala

Salute Shambhalans!

Today's chapter follows on from chapter 35, hence it is called chapter 36.  But it follows the story of Cyan, Aleksandra and Mikael.

And just a reminder of what these poor souls face.  They are up against a psychotronic weapon that could melt the minds of the planet.  Werewolf super soldiers.  Mikael is having psychic dreams that are connecting him with the evil mind controlling Papa Vargulf that is behind it all.

Oh, and Aleksandra, having been a little bit tipsy, accidentally told Papa Vargulf where they were heading, thinking she was relaying the message to her home nation.

My goodness.  If you aren't up to date with this exciting adventure, click below:

Chapter 34Chapter 35

See you Monday for the next instalment!  Until then, hold onto your nerve, don't lose it or let it blow away.

Daniel :-)

No Stops ‘til Dusseldorf
Utrecht Centraal Train Station.  Rotterdam, The Netherlands.  Midgard, the land of the humans.  February, 1942.
“Where’s Aleksandra?” whispered Cyan to Mikael, looking up and down the noisy platform.  “I feel uncomfortable that she isn’t with us while so many German soldiers push by.  This is a particularly dangerous place to be right now for the three most wanted felons.”
“She’s gone to the bathroom to freshen up,” Mikael groaned.  “I feel like I was beaten over the head with a skipping rope last night.  What were thinking drinking so much?”
“I believe it was a game of who has the biggest tolerance for alcohol.  A deadly game when it involves a pretty woman who can drink for days on end.”
Cyan squinted through the crowd.  Mikael followed his gaze.
Through the clouds of soot billowing from the front of the train, Mikael could see Nazi soldiers cradling SMGs, beggars stretching their hands out to passersby and civilians carrying everything they owned on their back.  There were also SS soldiers in pristine black uniforms leading German Shepherds and checking everybody’s documents.
“Are you worried the documents Aleksandra forged will not pass the test?” said Mikael.  “Or that perhaps we will be recognised?”
“No, she’s much better trained than your ‘run-of-the-mill’ SS soldier.  I have full confidence her documents will be indistinguishable from the real versions,” Cyan replied.  “I just thought I saw someone get into the train.”
“You do realise we won’t be the only one boarding the train, don’t you?”
“No, someone in particular.”
“Who did you think you saw?”
“Papa Vargulf,” muttered Cyan.  “But if it were him, you would know.  You’d pick up his energy if he were in the same city as you, let alone the same train station.”
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” came a voice behind them.
They turned around to see Aleksandra in a blue gored skirt with white polka dots, long white gloves, a velvet snood, and a collared cotton shirt with puffed sleeves.
“You’re as radiant as the morning sun,” Cyan stuttered.  “I’ve never seen you in a dress before.”
“I did indeed think you were taking a long time to ‘freshen up’,” Mikael said.
“I am flattered, Aleksandra, but there really was no reason for you to dress up for me,” Cyan added with a smile.
“The Nazis looking for us, I feel it,” said Aleksandra, grabbing the arms of both young men and leading them into a carriage.  “So little disguises stolen from shops may help get us to Dusseldorf.”
She reached into her bag and pulled out two scarves and felt fedora hats.  The men put them on, and Aleksandra stepped back to inspect them.
“No, Cyan,” giggled Aleksandra, adjusting Cyan’s hat.  “You must angle hat this way.  That is how men today wear hat, and helps hide face from SS men too.”
Aleksandra and Cyan gazed into each other’s eyes briefly, while Mikael angled his hat down to match Cyan’s.
“I’d take your leather jacket off too, Cyan,” Mikael added.  “It makes you stand out like a melting igloo in the simmering Sahara.”
“Good thinking, Mikael,” Cyan said straightening his back.  “And unless anyone is in disagreement, I think we should get straight to work.  Let’s sit here.  It’s a little out of the way.
“Mikael, I need you to tell me what you have already picked up from the book I left, and the key Aleksandra stole.”
The three sat down and Mikael shook his head.  “I have picked up nothing useful yet.”
“I doubt that,” said Cyan.  “Just tell me what you have picked up.”
“I saw some very strange scenes from what looked like a myth,” Mikael said.  “Vikings finding the mythical island of Thule and being transformed into…”
“Into something like the supernaturals,” said Cyan, finishing Mikael’s sentence.
“Yes, but…”
“Only a handful survived,” Cyan interrupted.  “These survivors were instated into the twelve Knights of the Black Sun, soldiers of the Thule Society, which has essentially taken over the German government and the Third Reich.”
“Do you mean what I think you mean?” asked Aleksandra, entering the conversation.
“You are psychic, it is very likely,” Cyan said.
“You saying Nazi party controlled by thousand year old Vikings?” whispered Aleksandra.  “This seems silly, even for you.”
“The German people are controlled by the Order of the Black Sun, a secret group originating from Thule that has been trying to take over the world for thousands of years.  Most of the surviving members of this society are descended from that original group of Vikings, yes.
“And they control the German people by way of the psychotronic weapon they possess.  However, without a proper fuel source, expanding its influence has become virtually impossible.”
“This cannot be,” she said, shaking her head.
“It is true, my Russian comrade.  After all you have seen in the past three years, I’m astonished this surprises you.”
“I have to agree, Cyan,” said Mikael, “it does seem quite far-fetched.”
“And it is perhaps this lack of belief, Mikael, that has held you back from seeing all that you need to.”  Cyan’s eyes ran up and down the aisle as passengers put their bags and suitcases overhead.  “Did you see who created these supernaturals?”
“They found no living inhabitants on the island... no treasures or amazing technology. Just a dog made of straw.”
“Ah, so he’s blocked those thought forms from you then.”
“Who’s blocking me?  At the risk of sounding arrogant, Cyan, nobody can mentally block this steamroller of a mind.  No, sir.  Never has happened, and never will happen, sir.”
“Papa Vargulf, the man who brought this ‘supernatural’ sickness into our realm, and the man who is on the verge of controlling the mind of every living thing on this planet, has done so,” said Cyan scratching his chin.  “Apparently.”
Cyan grinned and patted Mikael on the shoulder.  “You shouldn’t feel too poorly on this revelation, my young psychic friend.  He was banished from Aghartha because of his insidious power, so it isn’t surprising he can stop a human psychic.”
“He must’ve been the one in the brown hood,” pondered Mikael.  “Wait just a minute - did you say he was from Aghartha?  I thought that place was just a myth.”
Cyan rolled his eyes.  “You’ve both seen incredible things already, yet these things still surprise you?  Yes, Mikael, Aghartha does exist.  As did Thule.
“Aghartha is an advanced civilisation of creatures from another dimension. The beings now live under the earth’s surface, and their mental capabilities are far more highly developed than those of the surface dwellers.  And to put things into context of his power, Papa Vargulf was so dangerous to them – a community of highly evolved psychic beings – that he was sent to the surface.”
“Well, I guess when I said ‘nobody’, perhaps I was referring to nobody human?” said Mikael with a shrug.
“Since then,” continued Cyan, “Papa Vargulf has established the Order of the Black Sun, and its political arm the Thule Society, created a hybrid wolf-human army, and has built a global psychotronic weapon.  But luckily the lineage of earth’s Master Sages has thwarted his efforts to take over the world since he came to the surface.”
“That was you?” Aleksandra said, smiling and touching Cyan’s forearm.
“I’d like to take all the credit, but I have done the worst of all the Master Sages.
“Haakon ‘The Good’ was the first Master Sage who had the challenge of Papa Vargulf.  He stole thirteen rune stones that created a portal into the underworld, and hid them around the world.  These rune stones were protected by the Master Sages that followed and their helpers.
“In my time as Master Sage, Papa Vargulf has found all the missing rune stones.  The only reason he hasn’t used the portal and brought through an army of demons is because he also needs my key to generate enough power for it to work – the key you currently hold.  Either that or he needs to find the Die Glocke … which will never happen.
“Haakon ‘The Good’, or Haakon ‘The Goodie Two-Shoes’ as I personally prefer to call him, also prevented Papa Vargulf from creating the psychotronic weapon he has now completed.  Haakon was able to compromise the raw materials needed over and over.
“In my time he has built that weapon, and so far taken over a whole government and committed atrocities within that nation as they helplessly submitted to his whim.
“Compared to Haakon, I have been quite an easy adversary for Papa Vargulf.  But I plan to do something that Haakon, and the Master Sages after him, have failed to do.  I plan to kill him.”
“Can you kill him?” asked Mikael.
“It won’t be easy. If it were, a Master Sage would have done it by now. But I have something none of the Master Sages before me had – I have you.  With your psychic abilities, you can uncover the location of the psychotronic weapon, and how we can destroy it and defeat Papa Vargulf once and for all… no pressure.”
Aleksandra leant over to the two men.  “Sorry to interrupt.  Mikael, I know that you said you cannot sense anything strange, but I’m getting a terrible feeling we’re going to get caught by the Nazis.  I’m going to take a look up and down the train.”
“Could you please get me some water while you’re up, if that’s okay?” asked Mikael.  “My head is still wrestling with the alcohol in my system.”
Aleksandra nodded.  She stood up, but as she did, tripped over onto one of the Nazi soldiers sitting across the aisle from them.
She apologised, stood up, then walked back towards Mikael.
“Here you go,” said Aleksandra, handing over the soldier’s pick-pocketed water bottle.  “I’m going to walk up and down the train and hopefully prove my intuition incorrect.”
“I’ll come with you,” said Cyan.  “You’ll be okay here by yourself, won’t you, Mikael?”
He nodded, sipping on the water Aleksandra had given him.
“As soon as I can clear my head I’ll start working on the location and mechanics of this machine, as well as any weaknesses Papa Vargulf has.”
“Be careful,” said Aleksandra, “no matter how good you think you are, if Papa Vargulf senses you snooping around or gets inside your mind, we’re all in trouble.”
Mikael nodded and bit at his bottom lip.

The Magical Elephant of Shambhala chooses YOU to help Cyan, Aleksandra, Mikael, Loki, Thor,  Ebben, Ariella-Maria and Lodbrok defeat evil, and prevent Ragnarok ... the end of days.
Muhahahahaha.  Papa Vargulf is in your head and your dreams.  And by your, I actually mean Mikael's.  But he needs YOUR help.  Keep your fingers crossed, your metaphorical ninja stars at hand, and tune in Monday to continue the greatest adventure on the Internet ... so says my mum.

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