The Grey Ages: a The Dark is Rising story

Creative Content Literature
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Chapter One:

It was snowing in London. The white flakes drifted into streets filled with cars, people, and the ubiquitous buses and taxis. Stephen Stanton, RN, was heading to a restaurant to meet his brother Will. It had been a few years since they had last met, on New Year’s Day 1975. He wondered, briefly, how they had changed in that time. He remembered T the conversations they had had, Will reading from an old book of natural science, himself fishing in the Thames.

He turned the corner and stopped, surprised as he saw a certain man walking along the opposite side of the road. A bus rolled by, and when it passed, the man was gone.
Strange, he thought. I could have sworn that was the red-haired guy who was causing some trouble last time we met.
He looked at the address of the building beside him: 1125 Peter’s Square. It was the address he’d been given, but it didn’t look like a restaurant. Instead, it was a nice, large house, situated on the corner of the two adjacent streets.

He went up the front stairs, and knocked. The door was wooden, made of oak with brass fittings. The knocker he used was in a curious shape, a circle with a cross inside it, dividing it into four pieces. He heard a noise inside, as though someone had just played a short bit of music on a radio, though he immediately was unable to recall the sound. The door opened, and there before him was a man he had not expected to see in the least.

He was tall, and had interestingly hawk-like features. He was dressed in the suit of an average businessman, though this was all Stephen had ever seen him wearing before.
“Professor Lyon?”
The man smiled.
“Stephen Stanton, I presume? Your brother Will sent you here, I suppose. This house is safe from any dangers.”
Stephen felt vaguely confused by the intimation of his being in danger.
“I don’t think there’s any emergency,” he said. “Will’s all right, isn’t he?”
“You’d better come in, where we can talk about it more comfortably,” Professor Lyon said. “I don’t think you would have been given this address unless something was wrong.”

Feel free to leave your comments below!

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this is pretty great!

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Thanks! Although this will likely abandon canonicity pretty soon to avoid the story ending up the same as the books it’s based on.

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Ooh very interesting, the ending is making me wonder what it could possibly be…
Very nice.

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Chapter Two:

As he stepped inside, Stephen felt a strange sensation, as though he had received a slight shock from static. Then he noticed something truly remarkable: the room he was in was not the foyer of a house in London. It was a different building, large, built from ancient stones. Beautiful tapestries were hanging from the walls, depicting several intriguing designs: a tree growing from the roof of a cottage, a horned figure riding a horse, a skull of something like a horse, though with a strange stump of bone on the forehead. Another featured a broadsword with a crystal blade, and two shields of hold; while a third was decorated with a harp and a horn. A fire blazed in a large fireplace at the end of the hall, where a group of chairs and a few tables were placed in a comfortable proximity.
“Where are we? This isn’t London,” he asked.
“Don’t be afraid,” a new voice said.

Stephen spun to see a third person entering through a door on one side of the room.
“Will! What are you doing here?”
Professor Lyon laughed. “I’m glad that you could make it,” he said. “I was afraid you’d run into some difficulties on the way.”
“No, there wasn’t anything wrong,” Will said. “I just had to finish some shopping.”
He placed some packages on a nearby table.
“I can tell you’re confused about this place,” he said to his brother. “This is Merriman– I mean Professor Lyon’s residence.”
“Don’t worry,” the professor said. “You can use my name here freely.” He gestured to the chairs by the fire. “Come, sit. I’m sure you could use some food, and we have much to discuss.”

As Will and Stephen sat down, the professor called out, “Cogman! Dinner!”
Someone outside the hall replied, “Ready! Just a minute…”
There was a metallic clanking, and then a figure totally incongruous entered the room. It was the size of a man, but appeared to be entirely clad in gray metal plating. It wore a medieval helmet, but under the visor two eyes were glowing.
Stephen started at the sight of it delivering their meal.
“I’m sorry to surprise you, sir,” said the figure. “I hope you will excuse my strange appearance. Here are your plates, and a menu.” It handed Stephen a menu featuring many delicious dishes. “Would you like anything to drink?”
“Some wine will be perfect,” said Professor Lyon. “Don’t be scared. Cogman is one of my most trusted servants, and he has impeccable knowledge of etiquette. He won’t harm anyone I’ve invited here.”
Will grinned at the last sentence.
“How have you been,” he asked Stephen. “I got your letter last week about your arriving in time for Christmas.”
Stephen smiled at the normalcy of the question.
“I’m doing well, I suppose. Not much has happened, really. My ship’s been traveling around quite a bit. We had a few places the government wanted us to check on in the Pacific, and we got to stop in Australia for a week.”
He took some photos from his pocket.
“Here’s a kangaroo I got some pictures with,” he said, handing the first one to Will.
“That’s something I’ve wanted to do someday,” Professor Lyon said. “I need to travel there sometime.”
Will smiled as he looked at the different pictures, seeing the different places his brother had visited. Then, as he pulled out the last one, his expression changed to shock.
“What is it?” Stephen exclaimed.

Will placed the picture on the table. It was taken on the dock in London where his brother’s ship was moored for refueling. In it, Stephen Stanton stood with several other officers. But behind them, smirking in an almost smug expression, was a person who was utterly out of place. A man dressed in white robes and a white hooded cloak. A closer look at him revealed the complete absence of a shadow at his feet.
“This is most worrying,” Will said. “They have returned… how? That should not be possible…”

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Ooh, very interesting. Who could “they” be…

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Chapter Three:

“Who is that?” Stephen asked. “I’ve never seen him around here. Especially in that get-up.”
Will paused, and shot a quick look at Professor Lyon. The professor nodded, and Will spoke:
“He is a leader of The Dark. They are responsible for some of the odd events our family have told you about. The greatest snowstorm in this century was their attempt to steal this:”
Will held up his left arm. On the forearm, there was a scar. It was shaped like a circle, divided into four sections by a cross.
“That symbol, what is it?” Stephen asked. “I know that the mask I sent you had that on it. The knocker, the lights here, even the crest on your fireplace– they all have it!”
“It is the symbol of The Light,” Professor Lyon said. “We are here to protect you and other humans from the attacks of The Dark. They are evil, and wish to rule with an iron fist.”
“Is this some sort of conspiracy? Will, tell me the truth,” Stephen said.
Will sighed. “I will try, but you will not believe me. You remember – wait, you wouldn’t. Merriman, I can’t do this. It would break his mind.”
Professor Lyon stood up.
“You know the legend of King Arthur, Stephen Stanton?”
“Yes,” Stephen said, questioningly.
“It is no legend, though it has been distorted by The Dark and the fallibility of human historians. You recall the boy Will met in Wales, Bran Davies? He is Arthur’s son, the Pendragon of the twentieth century. He and Will, as well as others of The Light, fought The Dark a few years ago, on New Year’s Eve. We thought we had won. There were all the signs of it. There have been no signs of their agents for the last few years. Then he shows up in a chance photograph, taken by yourself. He is coming, I am certain. You are a marked target.”
“He intends to threaten us in some way with you,” Will said. “A kidnapping, an assassination, or a bomb– he has ways. He can use magic, but he will not hesitate to use the weapons of mortal men against them.”
“What?! This is crazy,” Stephen exclaimed.

Suddenly, there was a chill wind. A fog seemed to fill the edges of the room as the fire burned low in the fireplace.
“You don’t believe in The Dark, Stanton? I thought you knew better. Your brother, after all, is an agent of The Light.”
“Who is this? Where are you?”
“You still do not know? I am everywhere. I am the shadow in the alley, the darkness in the bilges, the pitch blackness of the cave. I do not normally deign to warn such fools as yourself, human, but I warn you now: stay away from these people. They are dangerous. They are delusional. They will stop at nothing. Arson? Murder? Oh yes, I know your brother hasn’t told you. That woman in Wales… they killed her, blasted her from space and Time.”
“You lie, Dark One,” Professor Lyon said, standing quickly. “You twist our words, thinking to corrupt his mind. He will have none of you.”
“You fool… Very well. I give you safety until midnight tomorrow. Then you must choose: The Dark, or The Light. See you then, Stanton.”

The fog evaporated, leaving the room clammy in the rush of warmth. The fire blazed up again, filling the room with yellow light.
“I must give you some protection,” said Professor Lyon. “Cogman!”
“Yes, sir?”
The metal man entered the room, carrying a tray for their meals.
“Take Stephen to his ship. You will use your disguise. He needs to be guarded. The Navy, though second to none in their prowess, cannot stop a Lord of The Dark.”
Cogman nodded. “I will do that. Meet me out front in twenty minutes,” he said to Stephen. “There will be transportation for you.”
“And don’t forget your food,” Will added. “You can get that, right, Cogman?”
Cogman nodded again. “Thank you for reminding me. I’ll do that right away, sir.”
He began clearing away the remains of their meal.
“Will, I must warn the others. You know what to do?”
“I’ll get the Signs immediately,” Will said.
“Good.” The Professor turned away, his expression unreadable.
Stephen stood up. “I guess I believe you now,” he said quietly. “I see what you meant earlier.”
He turned to the Professor. “Thank you. Your help is vastly appreciated.”

Then he blinked. He was standing on the steps of the house, looking into the street below. A car, an expensive Aston Martin, was parked by the curb, engine running. The passenger door was open.

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Very nice! So this mysterious man is the leader of the Dark, interesting.

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Chapter Four:

Inside the house, Will peered intently at a book. The script upon the pages had been unseen by mortals for over a thousand years. It was no ordinary book. The Book of Gramary contained all the secrets of magic, at least those allowed to The Light. There was a High Magic, known to both The Dark and The Light, but it was forbidden to both. It was the origin of their powers, the source of their existence. There was also the Wild Magic, that innate power contained in all inhabited worlds, long since dormant upon Earth. It was now found mostly in the inaccessible areas of the planet; the seas of Tethys, and the mountain heights. It was dangerous, for it had no allegiances, existing on its own.

True, there were members of it, like Herne the Hunter, who were allied with them, but those were rare. He shivered a bit as he closed the book.
“Merriman, what time should we expect the Signs to be in?”
There was no answer, but Will remembered now what that meant. His master was gone, gone to spread the warning. He sighed.
“I know where to go first.”

Standing, he walked over to a painting on the wall. It showed the Tower of London, but viewed from an upper window, from the inside.
He placed his hand against the frame, focusing. Then Will spoke, words of power, ancient, incomprehensible and yet ringing with the sound of the High Magic. It was a simple spell, known to many, a spell to change one’s location. As he spoke, the painting changed. It grew taller, and the frame became darker, oaken. He stepped through, into the room of the Tower.

It was dark. Snow could be seen falling past the windows. There was a chest in the corner of the room. Other odds and ends were there, as it was an attic, an unused one at that. Will opened the chest, causing it to creak slightly with age. Inside was a bundle, wrapped in newspaper. He picked it up, and unwrapped it gently. It was golden, encrusted with gems. A circle, with a cross in the center. He placed it in the pocket of his jacket.
“I thought you’d be here.”
He started, spinning to see a man standing by the doorway.

The man was inconspicuous, dressed in a suit and a cap, pulled down to hide his face. He was normal in every way, but his posture looked slightly off, in a way Will couldn’t quite place.
“Who are you? Who told you I was coming?”
“I have my ways. That item you have, for instance. Certain people would give their souls to have it…”
The man looked up. In the darkness, Will could see his face, hidden on one side by the shadows. It was pale, and gaunt. The expression was blank, as though his muscles never moved. The eyes, though, were what held his gaze. They were glowing, appearing as irises of orange light within the sockets. It was quite unnerving. The man smiled, a stiff, wooden grin.
“I think you should hand that over to me. Right now.”

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Ah very nice. cool story so far

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Chapter Five:

“I could drop you with a word.”
Will began to speak a spell, then choked. A burning feeling erupted in his throat and lungs as his vision began clouding over.
“Now you suffer,” the man said, his glowing eyes boring into Will’s vision. Suddenly, the feeling was gone. Will lay on his back, coughing painfully. The man stood over him, with his disconcerting smile. He laughed, and knelt down. Will lashed out with his fist, as the man’s arm touched his jacket.

He connected with a painful impact. The man reeled back, surprised by the pain. He clutched his elbow, grimacing.
“How could you do that? You don’t… you shouldn’t…”
Will opened his fist. He was clutching another one of the Signs, made from a dark metal that glistened in the moonlight.
“The Sign of Iron. It hurts any who are affiliated with The Dark.”
The man smiled.
“You know, then. Very well. You shall not see me again.”
He stalked backwards, and as he did, his appearance changed. His skin, at least that which was visible, seemed to melt, and was absorbed into a metallic structure underneath. His hands became claws, mechanical, sharp, and menacing.
“You will not know me. Believe me, you won’t know when I’ve returned.”
He stepped back, and vanished into the darkness.

Will stood up. There was little doubt that the attack had been merely a warning, an attempt to discourage him in his quest. I should find Merriman, he thought. He summoned forth the great door in the wall again, and stepped back into the room from whence he had started.

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Very nice. Interesting thing about the iron…

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Chapter Six:

“That’s odd,” Stephen Stanton said. He had sat down in the passenger seat of the Aston Martin, but there was no driver. In fact, there were no controls that he could see. The dashboard was smooth, and covered in chrome and leather.
“Don’t worry about the lack of controls,” a familiar voice said. “I have full control of this vehicle. In fact, I am the vehicle.”
A screen emerged from the car’s dashboard, displaying a digitally rendered image of London.
“Where do you want to go?”
Stephen said the name of his hotel.
“Perfect,” Cogman said. “No one will suspect anything.”
The car’s engine revved, with a rush of acceleration, and they were in the midst of the traffic.
Stephen suddenly asked, “How will you keep an eye on me at the hotel? You’re a robot, or an alien or something.”
“I have my ways,” Cogman said. “Don’t be afraid.”
They pulled up to the curb, and Stephen got his bags from the trunk. There was a noise, as of an electric motor spinning rapidly, and Cogman strode over to the door. As he did, he muttered something in a language Stephen couldn’t place. They entered the lobby, and something strange happened. No one reacted at all to the sight of a grey robot and a Navy officer in a prestigious London hotel. Cogman grabbed a newspaper as they entered the elevator, and leaned against a corner, reading contentedly.

“Who’s your friend?”
“Huh? Oh, er…”
“I’m the Second Lieutenant of Her Majesty’s Ship Churchill,” Cogman said to the man in the elevator.
The man was not unique, dressed in a khaki jacket and carrying a black briefcase. He looked with interest at Stephen, his dark eyes seeming oddly reflective and unreadable in the artificial light.
“Well, I hope you’ll enjoy your Christmas,” he said. “I’ve got to get off here.”
The door opened, and he left into the hall.
“You don’t suppose that was one of them,” Stephen said.
“No, he’s just an average businessman,” his companion said. “He works at the restaurant I ordered dinner from. He’s the owner, quite a rich man, they say.”
“This will certainly be an interesting night,” Stephen said.
“Well, we’ll see,” Cogman replied.

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ah, very nice chapter

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Interesting story so far, looking forward to see where it goes.

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Chapter Seven:

“I don’t suppose that you’re here for negotiations?”
Will stood before a man wearing a military uniform, though it was not one of the twentieth century. They were on the deck of a ship, in the middle of the Mediterranean.
“I’m looking for a Captain Emerson,” Will said. “I have orders from the Admiralty for him. This could mean the defeat of the French privateers in this area.”
The officer did not look convinced, but he strode off to the captain’s cabin. A few minutes later, Will had spoken with the captain. Now, he thought, I have three of the six Signs.
He was about to leave the ship when he saw something move. A strange movement in the water caught his eye, as though something was rising…
“Get down,” he shouted. Seconds later, a massive impact caused the ship to heel over dangerously, water streaming over the decks.

Will grabbed onto the railing, and stared over the side. A cloud of mist and smoke was rising from the water, along with sparks. Before he could react, a beam of energy smashed him into the main mast of the ship. A huge figure emerged from the cloud, with a huge weapon aimed at the ship.
“You have broken your contract, Old One. Now you must pay,” it said.
“Who are you? I haven’t seen you around here,” Will said.
“You don’t recall? I was the one who pursued you the night you found the Sign of Fire. I escaped the hunt with our special powers over time.”
Will shook his head. It wasn’t right, somehow.
“I don’t remember this at all,” he said.
The figure laughed.
“This is incredible. You don’t know what you’re doing. You come here to take one of the most powerful artifacts in this galaxy, and you claim to have never seen me?”
“Well what if I haven’t? I think you should be giving me some explanation,” he replied.
“Probe my mind then, or have you forgotten that?”

Will reached out, his mind entering the being’s thoughts. It was strange, as there were parts of its consciousness that didn’t match up in Will’s mind. Strange disconnected thoughts, most being various three-dimensional transformations and schematics, things that bothered him. They were not technologies that should exist…
It struck him suddenly, as he came upon a name in the the being’s mind: Shockblast. This was no agent of The Dark. This was not even an agent of the High Magic. This was a being alien to Earth, one that was also searching for the Signs. But why?

“Why do you need the signs?” he asked.
“If they are combined as you plan on doing,” the being said, “you will unleash the power of my kind on your planet. Already one of my enemies has taken service to fight against you. You may have met him, under the name Pretender.”

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very interesting.

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Chapter Eight:

The wind was beginning to pick up, the falling snow falling at a slant as a lone figure walked through the field. Behind him, the highway stretched far into the distance, the lights of London barely visible through the snow. He carried a flashlight, its beam shining dimly through the darkness.

With a suddenness that almost scared him, a stone pillar appeared in the light, then another. He continued on, passing between them into the ring that had stood for centuries. Stonehenge, the ancient Druidic site. He stood in the center of the great circle, his light illuminating it all dimly, as with a torch in ages past.
“Reveal yourself,” he said. “We need more than just the Pretender.”

A sound arose from behind a pillar. A glow, as of flames. A burst of orange fire lit up the circle as a tall figure landed in the middle, towering over the man. It was winged, though the wings were metal, jointed with strange circular shapes. In one hand it held a curved weapon, arched like a bow, though a stock like that of a gun could be seen on its arm. The other hand grasped a device like a radio, upon which flashed a map of London.
“So, you need more help? I thought that you had them in hand.”
The voice was female, though distorted as though with static.
“Yes. Pretender has a target in mind, but we have deliberately kept him unaware of the true capabilities of it. He is the perfect example of a ‘fall guy’, as it’s so wonderfully called.”
The winged figure nodded.
“Shall I find him, then?”
The other turned, looking into the snow.
“Yes. But observe him. Don’t you get him away from the target. Let him suffer his own punishment. Then get him out.”

The man turned out his flashlight, disappearing into the night. After a few minutes, a vehicle pulled out onto the highway. It was a Pontiac sports car, with a flashy black paint job and a firebird emblem on the hood, colored in bright red and yellow. The only noticeable difference between it and a dealership model was the symbol on the grille: an angular face, eyes slitted, spikes protruding from the top of the mechanical design. The Pretender would be punished.

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ooh very nice

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This is a very interesting story, hopefully at some point we get some new content for it
The Dark is Rising is a unique world from what I can tell and I’d love to see more

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