Dr. Avel B’hadgai & The Primeval Magus

in Ask not for whom the Wedding Bell tolls!

Part Four: Exposition…of EVIL!

by Bubblegum Tate

Dr. Avel B’hadgai lays ate the center of a large, dark room in a circle of light and nearly prone in a chair of his own invention. Thousands of wires, conduits and cables spread from the chair and hook, plug or tap into a variety of machines and computers. Each device is either a source of information or assists in the collation, sifting and processing of the titanic amount of data flowing into the doctor’s brain. The chair itself was created for maximum comfort and to tend to the doctor’s every need. The doctor seems to twitch in the chair, but this is due to electrodes attached to major muscle groups, keeping them from succumbing to atrophy during the hours, days and sometimes months the evil genius spends in the chair. The headrest of the chair interfaces directly with the part of B’hadgai’s head that is no longer human; the section of his brain that was cruelly destroyed adolescence by Ajax Stewart.

The unblinking electronic eye pulses as information flows into B’hadgai’s mind and his still human eye lies closed, but flashes back and forth beneath the lid. One could say the doctor was dreaming, but B’hadgai would claim concepts such as the subconscious have been left behind by a mind as advanced as his own. His brain is constantly at work; scheming, conspiring, plotting, and each byzantine and nefarious plan pointed directly at Ajax Stewart. If it can be said that Dr. B’hadgai dreams, then he dreams only of the destruction and humiliation of this hated adversary.

From the shadows, a wheezy voice echoes from a reedy frame; a weak vessel that belies the authority with which the figure intones, “Even I, who have communed with the spirits for a moon-cycle, am astonished at your lethargy, Doctor.” A chuff chuff of laughter escapes the lips of the ancient shaman men call the Primeval Magus, amused by his own joke.

The fluttering human eye snaps open and a frown tugs at B’hadgai’s mouth as it creases the half-flesh of his forehead. “Don’t presume to speak down to me as though I were some hubcap stealing scofflaw, Magus,” B’hadgai said with a sneer. “I am the greatest criminal mind the world has ever known!” Smiling evilly, the doctor continued, “And, I might add, the key to defeating your enemy… a woman in an animal skin bikini.”

The Primeval Magus stepped into the ring of illumination surrounding the chair. Once again, Dr. B’hadgai had to marvel at the interesting and striking figure. The Magus was rail thin, but covered in wiry, sinewy muscle. Wrapped in tattered robes, much of his exposed skin from the top of his bald pate to the leathery soles of his bare feet was covered in runic tattoos. He wore several circles of bone and wood at both ankles, each wrist and surrounding the left bicep. He leaned on a staff that was as brown and knotted as his own skin. His eyes, though sunk deep into the sockets, were penetrating and cold. The Primeval Magus was old and looked it. Not just old, but ancient. As ancient as mankind. As ancient as the Enigma Isles. Ancient…and powerful.

For, as loathe as B’hadgai was to admit it, the Magus radiated power. Even as a deposed dictator, he was a man used to being feared and had a voice used to being obeyed. Men, women, even the elements themselves, all obeyed the voice of the Primeval Magus. Dr. B’hadgai believed that there were no ineffable forces in the universe, only forces that had yet to be catalogued by science, but that belief was shaken to its core each and every time he stood in the presence of this most ancient of sorcerers.

It was this voice that intoned, “Tell me, doctor, what progress is Stewart making in collecting the items we require?”

B’hadgai, seeing that the Magus was the first to break off their banter, replied, “Believe it or not, my nemesis has done two things that surprise me; a feat he hasn’t managed in quite some time. First, he simply asked for the Papyrus of Ani and, even more shocking, the British Museum gave it to him. Second, the supposed paragon of virtue cheated.”

The hairless brows of the Magus knitted together in consternation, “Cheated?”

“Yes,” B’hadgai nodded, “Although my instructions didn’t specifically instruct Ajax to work alone, I assumed his natural tendencies would lead him to mount so important a rescue mission on his own. Instead, however, he sent Tiger Jack Hwang to collect Kwan Yin’s Sapphire from Hwang’s old master.”

“Does this aid or hinder us?” the Magus demanded. Even when he asked simple questions, he demanded.

“In the short term, Ajax’s shenanigans mean nothing. In the long term, I will miss Yu Zhi Shou as he was a most cruel and clever collaborator and the Wudan a very useful organization. Still,” the doctor turned with an evil grin towards the Magus, “what need have we of simple criminal organizations when we seek to bend all of reality to our will?”

The Magus shook his head as he answered, “Though you have had far less time to master the disciplines of science than I have had to master the occult, you have demonstrated that you are no less puissant than I. If any two men can combine the powers of sorcery and science, it will be men such as us. Tell me again how you plan to do it.”

“Magus, how have you managed to live so long?” B’hadgai asked, now all business.

“The earliest forms of what men would call magic were sympathetic,” the Magus began to explain, “a man who wished to hunt as a wolf would take a wolf as his totem, wearing its skin, trying to see the world as a wolf would see it. Over time, and with much practice, the man would take on wolfish characteristics. A more pugnacious demeanor, heightened senses, a love of the hunt. In a similar fashion, I was able to form a sympathetic bond with those islands that men call the Enigma Isles.”

Nodding along with him, B’hadgai asked, “And this affected you how?”

“As I told you before, the Enigma Isles are a convergence of powerful forces, a storehouse of occult energies. They are untouched by time because time is a lesser force than the amalgam of forces that have taken root in the Enigma Isles. As I tuned myself to the Isles, the Isles attuned themselves to me. They showed me secrets, mysteries and shared their life force with me. As they stand outside of time, so do I. I have told you all this many times, Doctor!”

“Yes, I know, but tell me again how this made you the ruler of the Isles,” B’hadgai said.

“The Isles seemed to love me as a favored son, they…,” the Magus paused, obviously struggling with concepts no other human could comprehend, “every thing from the lowest daffodil to the largest beast seemed to worship me. Vicious animals refused to attack me, vegetation moved to shade me from the sun, geographical areas to which I wished to travel seemed to move closer together simply because I idly wished my walk to be shorter. The people of the Isles have become attuned to the energies and sensed the support the Isles gave me. I was their natural ruler and the Isles gave them to me as my playthings.”

“Until Shiarra led your playthings in revolt.” Dr. B’hadgai couldn’t help but say this in a mocking tone.

“Be careful speaking of that which you cannot possibly understand!” the Magus thundered. “After MILLENIA of my mastery over the Isles, they seemed to throw me over in favor of another. I was left, a jilted lover, as it wrapped another in its charms. Shiarra had no knowledge of occult power, but her father loved the Enigma Isles enough to die for them and when I took his life to stop his expedition, the Isles saw this as a betrayal. It was the Isles themselves that sent a Dire Wolf with a new litter to find the toddler. It was the Isles that made her able to understand the wolf pack that was her new family and live as one of them. And make no mistake, Scientist, the Isles themselves sought to exacerbate my misery by causing her to lead the Islanders in revolt against me. Though my knowledge of magic was ancient and vast, with the Isles against me I never stood a chance. And I will hate her until the end of time for that.”

“Hatred like that is something I can…sympathize with,” said B’hadgai laughing at his erudite turn of phrase. “And you can create this sympathy magic with any item of power, correct?”

“Given time, no item of occult power can withstand the will of the Primeval Magus,” intoned the ancient warlock, “even the items of great mystical power you have instructed Stewart to gather to ‘save’ the life of his betrothed.”

“Even as you seek to bend those items to your will, augmenting your already amazing strength, I will seek to unravel the mysteries of the Celestial Stele. Though it is so far removed from modern science as to appear like sorcery, it is a technological marvel lost from the far future in the rushing headwaters of Time itself!” Despite how he hated the “mad scientist” stereotype, Dr. B’hadgai couldn’t help but dissolve into mad cackles that reverberated throughout the chamber.

“And you believe that combining my mastery of occult energies and your newfound mastery of time will allow us to bend all reality to our will,” the Magus said with a firm nod. “Apart, Dr. B’hadgai, we could never undo the evil perpetrated on us by the Engineer and his She Wolf. Together, we will bring all creation to its knees and FINALLY there will be a reckoning!”

“You speak the truth, my ancient ally. Now, if you will excuse me, Ajax is on his way to collect the final piece of our vengeance puzzle and I must monitor the proceedings.” Dr. B’hadgai lay back in the chair, allowing his cybernetic mind to meld with the machines surrounding him. The Magus stepped back into the shadows, leaving his maniacal collaborator to his machinations. Both men were content that soon they would ascend to their rightful places in the cosmos.