The Lazarus Effect (Henry and Chase)

[The Dark Knight]

The Dark Knight threw the door to the abandoned warehouse open with a bang. He was dripping wet, and lightning streaked across the sky behind him causing his armor to glisten with a spectral light for a brief second. He lit a torch and hung it over the table in the center of the room.

With a grunt, the coffin he had brought with him from the graveyard was hefted onto the table and torn open with a crowbar. Noxious fumes escaped that would have turned a weaker man's stomach, but the Knight simply grimaced and held the torch closer to examine the remains within.

The clothes were most definitely belonging to the man he was searching for, which was good because the body had rotted beyond any recognition. Small bits of flesh clung stubbornly to weathered bone, but the skeletal eyeless face that stared back was unrecognizable. From looking at the bones the Knight could see numerous healed breaks including seven fingers, six toes, one lower leg, one ankle, and all but one rib. This was him, this body could only belong to him, no other man the Knight knew had ever sustained so many injuries and lived.

Placing the torch back into its holder he pulled several jars full of strange arcane items out of a chest, along with a mortar and pestle and a leather bound tome. He opened the book and began grinding ingredients together. He painstakingly coated each inch of bone with the coarse liquid that was produced and began to chant. Booming thunder and blinding lightning filled the sky outside as the wind howled. Soon, the bones were covered with muscle, and the Knight began the process again.

The next mixture put skin on the newly created muscle, he hoped that he did the spell perfectly, otherwise it would not turn out right. If it had failed all had been for nothing, he felt that he had no energy left. Attempting to cast a simple charm at this point would put him out. He held the torch to the face of the naked body lying on the hard wooden table. It was perfect, even the scar.

The Knight grinned to himself and put clothes on the naked man and sat in a chair, waiting for the other two to come. He was nearly giddy with anticipation but he held his emotions in check with some effort. It was hard to contain himself. By sunrise, Dante Grixis would be back among the living.

[Henry Renold]

Henry crouched at the entrance to a dark cave.
The ceiling above him dripped with what he hoped was water, leaving his hair and face cold and dirty. Still, he thought, perhaps it would hide his scent.
And on that thought, he crept inside.

The further he went, the darker the cave got and finally Henry was forced to light a torch. He had hoped that he would manage with his better-than-average sight, but alas- it was just too black.
As the flames flickered, strange shadows were cast across the uneven surfaces that could only be describer as "walls", the sight unnerved Henry but he knew that he had no choice but to go deeper. Into the darkness.

Deeper and darker. That was all that went through Henry's mind as he wandered through winding corridors and dank tunnels. The map he had gotten from the Dark Knight was tucked in his cloak but he had no need to check it for he knew the way as though he had been here before. He had dreamt of it nearly every night since their meeting and had studied the map every day.
Finally, the dark tunnel he was in opened into a dimly lit chamber- just like his dream and there was something familiar and yet terrifying about that. In the centre was a stalagmite that rose from the floor and in the front of that was a small well with an ornament resting in it. That was it. That was the Heaven and Hell Pact.

Henry stepped forwards into the chamber and that was when it happened. A wind swept through the room so suddenly that it almost knocked Henry off of his feet and needless to say every light in the room- including his torch- was extinguished.

"S**t" Henry swore under his breath, as he dropped the now useless branch and pulled out his other blade. He was dual wielding now, but it didn't give him much of an advantage in the sheer blackness. But as he backed himself up against what he believed was the wall, Henry suddenly remembered something.

"That ring you have holds a special power. It grants the wearer darkvision. Even in the darkest places of the world, you well as on a starry night. You'll need it where you're going."

Fumbling wildly, Henry tried desperately to find that tiny silver band that he had almost forgotten. Finally he found it in the deepest crevice of his pocket, and he slid it on his middle finger as though his life depended on it. Which, incidentally, it did for as the power of the ring began to work, Henry found the room lightening or rather he found himself able to see better in the darkness. It was a strange sensation, as though stars were appearing within the sky, only they were so deep underground that Henry knew that to be an impossibility. But before, the power had really taken a hold, and before Henry had really adjusted to it he was forced to spring into action as a heavy broad sword crashed against the wall beside him.

Spinning around Henry found himself face to face with three men- assuming that's what they were under all of the armour- each of them carrying a blade bigger than Henry himself and wielding a shied half their size. As their blades crashed about him, Henry ducked and using his blades crossed above him as a sort of shield, rolled between them until he was in the centre of the room.
Unfortunately it seemed that the attackers too had darkvision, for they turned almost instantly and began to cross the room too.
The only advantage Henry could see was that their armour and weapons were slower than he, and perhaps if he was lucky he could-

Henry's thoughts broke off as a fourth man grabbed him by the shoulder. Legs flailing wildly, he struggled to escape the strong grip by swinging his sword behind him, but the man's arms were longer than Henry's and he couldn't quite reach. Finally though the flailing and kicking managed to muster some momentum and the monstrous hand let go, sending Henry crashing to the floor.
With numerous bruises no doubt, he clambered back to his feet just in time to avoid another blow from the sword.

This was ridiculous, all four of the men were stronger, bigger and more experienced in hand to hand combat than Henry. He was an assassin. A thief.

And that was the key to it all.

The Dark Knight hadn't sent him here to battle for the Pact, he had sent him here to steal it. And that was just what he was going to do.

With a leap he dodged another strike, and fell into a forward roll which carried him back to the centre of the room. He was to the left of the stalagmite now and slightly behind it. The guards remained in front, but were heading this way.

"Spawn of the devil!" Henry spat, raising his blades in front of him and taking a defensive stance that he knew was particularly effective against heavy weapons. But fortunately he didn't need to use it, for he waited until the first man had reached him and raised his weapon, before he darted to the other side of the rock formation.
The sudden change of position confused the guard and caused him to send his great weapon smashing through the stalagmite and sent the statue sliding to the back of the room.

Without a second thought, Henry raced to the Pact which, incredibly, had not a scratch on it. It took mere seconds to stuff it into his cloak, but that was long enough for the second guard to reach him.

As he turned, he saw the raised sword but not soon enough and it crashed into his forearm, which he raised in order to protect his upper body. He was wearing vambraces and so the blade didn't cut, but the sheer weight of the weapon broke his arm in several places and left him in agony. He had to get out now.




~24 hours later~

A dirty, wet Henry slid through the warehouse door quietly. His broken arm was twisted in an unnatural way and he had a black eye and cheek. He looked broken and like he was lucky to be alive, but all that mattered was the Pact.

"Here." He murmured, throwing a cloth pouch onto the table where a body lay. "That's what you were searching for."
The man in the chair said nothing, his face showed no emotion and so Henry decided that he didn't need to wait for permission and sunk to the floor in an exhausted heap.

[The Dark Knight]

The Knight looked over Henry for a moment. The boy's arm was shattered. The Knight first went to inspect the item in the small bag. He pulled it out and it pulsated with an unnatural power. The Knight smiled, his eyes glimmering in the torchlight. His smile faded almost as quickly as it came and he turned to Henry.

"You will be rewarded for your service Henry." He said in a voice that could barely mask the happiness he felt. He pulled a vial of black liquid from his cloak and he took three steps until he stood at Henry's side. He opened the vial and handed it to the boy. "Drink it, it should help with the pain, and speed up the healing process."

For a few minutes the room fell silent, the only sounds were the booming of thunder and the sound of icy rain hammering on the roof of the warehouse. He Knight's quiet voice broke the silence, "Be happy Henry, there is but one piece of the puzzle left. The first two are on the table, and the last one should be arriving shortly."

[Chase Caldera]

Chase strode through the storm feeling the power of the storm swell through him. He wished to fly through the rain and revel in its wild and carnal strength. During a storm all things were put to the test of survival. The weak were eliminated, and yet in a mad twist of nature even the strongest thing could be destroyed by a random bolt of lightning. It was the duel sides of strength and chance that made Chase love storms so much.

Unfortunately Chase could not enjoy the storm this time. The Dark Knight himself had called for Chase and was going to put him to an ultimate test. If Chase passed he would be in the mysterious organization that called itself the Brotherhood. Then he would have access to their resources and would better be able to devote himself to his cause of destroying Dreamer, the man who had stolen everything from him. Still Chase knew that the test he was about to undertake would be his hardest yet. He would have to manage the impossible, the resurrection of a man.

Finally Chase arrived at the warehouse and entered it leaving the chilling rain behind. Inside stood the Dark Knight standing next to a man who looked so broken that for a second Chase almost wondered if he was the man to be resurrect. Still on the table underneath a lamp lay a naked body and Chase instantly realized that this was who he was supposed to bring back.

Turning to the Dark Knight Chase said, "So how are we going to do this?"

[The Dark Knight]

The Knight looked at Chase for minute before tossing him an ancient tome at him. "You're going to open that to the marked page and use it to unlock the power of the item that is on the table. If you do it properly it will bind the soul with the body causing resurrection. If you fail... well then there will be two corpses here." The last part of the sentence had a threatening edge, but the Knight knew that Chase wouldn't fail.

The Knight stepped away from the table into the shadows where the torchlight did not reach and he waited, watching carefully as Chase began his work.

[Henry Renold]

Henry fingered the vial that the Dark Knight had given him, with his good hand, reluctant to drink something so black when he wasn't sure what it was. The promise of less pain and faster healing was tempting, but he didn't much like magic and this must be a potion of some sort.

Still before he could make his final decision, the door opened and another boy entered. Henry recognized him from somewhere, had he taken a contract from him once? He shrugged unsure, and turned his attentions instead, to the body on the table.
When he had first entered the warehouse, Henry had not looked at the body particuarly closely, but now as he sat on the cold floor, in puddle that had formed from the water in his hair and clothes, he looked again at the naked form.

There was something strangely familiar about that too...was it...no, it surely couldn't be...Dante?

"What the hell is going on here?!" Henry yelled, standing up despite his aching bones. "I never signed up for this, what are you doing to Dante's body? He might be dead but have you never heard of resting in peace?"

[The Dark Knight]

The Knights' eyes turned to Henry with a cold stare. "His body may lie, but you know his spirit does not rest."

He didn't want to reveal to Henry what was about to happen, he was a volatile boy and saying the wrong thing might set off his short fuse. The Knight spoke, his voice low, "If you wish to help your friend, you will not interfere." With that he turned to Chase. "Get on with it, it's cold, it's late and I have other things that need my attention."

In reality there was nothing more important to the Knight than this, but he wanted Chase to hurry, the anticipation was killing him.

[Chase Caldera]

Chase examined the book for a moment before opening. It gave off such an aura of malice that he almost didn't want to touch it. Whatever secrets lay hidden in the book were obviously things that were better off not known to the world. Chase loved it! He would be one of the rare few who were privileged to read this book and gain the power inside.

Eagerly Chase opened to the marked page and examined the writing within. Vaguely he heard the Dark Knight and the other man talking but he ignored them to concentrate one the strange symbols that filled the page. Whatever this book was written in it was not English. However Chase could not shake the feeling that he could read the writing. It felt like the meaning was just out of reach of his mind. As if it was a half forgotten language. He stared at the individual symbols trying to make sense of what they said.

After torturous minutes of attempting to figure out what the symbols meant Chase finally stepped back and simply tried to skim over the page. Instantly he realized that when he stopped trying to concentrate on the symbols themselves and instead looked at the whole thing it was immeasurably easier. He didn't understand it perfectly but he could get the general feel of the sentences.

Three readings of the page later Chase started. First he picked up the ring that lay on the table and examined the pentagram etched into it. Despite its minuscule size it was far more complex than any pentagram Chase had yet worked with. After scrutinizing its basic patterns he slowly started to reproduce it on the floor beneath the table where the body lay.

It took an hour for Chase to draw the complex pentagram and its various symbols into the chanting incantations from the book the entire time. What they meant he couldn't tell except that they dealt with heaven, hell, and death.

After spending several more minutes examining his handiwork to make sure it was flawless Chase lifted up the ring and chanted, "Disgleirio yng ngoleuni'r nid sanctaidd a dod yn ôl marwolaeth" Instantly Chase felt a huge drain on his reserves of magic and he found himself breathing heavily as the spell took affect. Slowly the pentagram started glowing in an unholy light while the ring did the same. Even Chase couldn't help but feel slightly nervous about what he was doing. Who knew what could happen if he failed to resurrect the man.

Still Chase knew he had no choice but to continue. He could not pull out when he was this close to achieving his goal. Slowly he picked his way to the table careful not to touch any of the glowing lines. Once there he prepared himself for the most delicate part of the process.

Pushing the ring against his left wrist Chase braced himself and whispered, "Bwyta fy nghnawd ac enaid" A wave of nausea overcame him as the spell drained his energy and the ring came alive and started sucking his blood. Barely concious Chase felt more and more of his lifeblood leave him and he wondered what it would be like to die. He didn't want to die yet he knew that. He had left to much undone, he had yet to prove himself as greater than his father, overcome Dreamer, or become the strongest mage in the land. If he died now he would never be anything but a failure.

Chase refused to allow himself to be a failure with a gigantic effort he slowly pulled the greedy ring off his wrist and smashed it into the man's heart as he gasped "Dychwelyd at eu corff a oedd unwaith yn un chi a cherdded eto!"

Chase fell into the darkness smiling. He had done it!

[Dante Grixis]

The spirit of Dante Grixis sat alone, leaning against his gravestone. The rain was falling heavily and lightning lit the sky. The heavy drops of water passed through his ethereal form, soaking the ground beneath him. He sat quietly, looking at the dark skies.

He felt himself being pulled back to the world of the dead and he watched sadly as he began to dissipate. Dante closed his eyes and felt himself leave this world once again. But when he reached his destination something was different. He was trapped in something, a searing pain scorched his chest.

His chest. Pain. Dante's eyes opened and the world was blurry, when suddenly images flashed through his mind. He saw himself being stabbed by Arthur and he died. His lungs filled with air as the body on the table sat bolt upright, screaming in agony. He felt the pain of Arthur's sword in his chest. His breathing was erratic and he coughed, then vomited.

He looked around himself in a panic as the pain subsided. Dante held his hands in front of his face and looked at them. They were his hands, they were not the hands of a ghost. He felt a mixture of shock, nausea, and disbelief. In a daze he rose from the table and he heard a deep voice behind him say "Welcome back, Dante," but he didn't turn. He took wobbling step towards the door of the warehouse and pushed them open.

Dante felt the harsh wind blow on his face. He stepped outside and felt the relentless rain sting his skin. He began to laugh. He was truly alive again! He fell to his knees and looked into the sky as he laughed, a large smile beaming across his face. His tears mixed with the rain and fell with the endless drops.

After a long moment he rose and walked back into the warehouse. He knew that this was the Knight's doing, he was the only man in Camelot with this kind of power, but he stopped when he saw a familiar face.

"Henry!" He yelled and nearly knocked his friend over in a massive hug.

[Henry Renold]

Henry quietened after his outburst, the happenings in the room too much for words. He watched as the mage-boy cast whatever spell it was, shuddering slightly as the magic words were spoken. Magic just never sat right with him.

He waited and waited until finally Chase was done and he collapsed into a heap on the floor. Henry seemed to be the only person in the room to have noticed, but even he turned his attention away as he saw something even more disturbing. Dante was sitting up.

Promptly, Henry was sick. This was wrong. Dante was dead. He shouldn't have been sitting up, coughing, breathing. He should be laying in a box in the ground. Cold, hard and dead.

Yet no matter how many times he blinked and rubbed his eyes, there was no denying that Dante was as alive as he was, and even as Henry watched, his friend was leaving the shed.

Strangely, The Dark Knight seemed perfectly calm about all of this, and finally Henry understood that this had been his plan all along. He had only wanted those statues for this purpose and Henry had been an unwillling part of it all. But would he have been unwilling if he had known all along? Would he have agreed? He didn't know, but he didnt have much time to think about it either, for he was suddenly bowled over in a huge hug.

"Dante." Henry said, once he was on his feet again. It felt strange to be saying the name and looking at the man, whose death had caused him so much pain and grief. Still, it could only be a good thing couldn't it?

[Dante Grixis]

Dante smiled. "I... It... I've missed you Henry." Tears welled in Dante's eyes. He had missed Henry greatly. "It's good to see you again." Dante clapped a hand on Henry's shoulder and chuckled a bit.

He then turned and looked at the Knight, who for the first time Dante could ever remember, was smiling. The Knight didn't say anything, but he handed Dante a bundle, inside was his leather and chainmail armor, his cloak, and his belt with his swords. Dante thanked him. The Knight simply nodded and picked Chase up.

"When he wakes I'll give him your thanks." He said as he slung the unconscious boy over his shoulder and left the warehouse, leaving Dante and Henry alone.

Dante carefully donned his armor and strapped his sword belt to his waist. He threw his cloak on over it all and turned to Henry. "Well, looks like I'm back." Dante said, addressing the elephant in the room. He wasn't sure how Henry would react, but he hoped that he was back to the good old Henry he knew, and no longer the Henry he saw after his death.

[Henry Renold]

Henry smiled weakly, a little unsure of how to react to such a bizarre state of affairs. He decided in the end it was best just to accept things on face value and worry about it later.

The Dark Knight had left, with a smile sitting oddly amongst his coarse features and Chase flung over his shoulder. Henry sort of wished he hadn't, for now they had to address the atmosphere in the room and he had no idea how.

"Its good to see you." Henry said, his weak smile finally broadening as he enveloped his friend in a rough embrace. It felt good to be able to do that and feel someone, instead of just passing through the ghostly apparition that Dante had come to be.

"I don't quite know why or what has just happened," Henry stepped back, looking over Dante's face, making sure that this wasn't some kind of nightmare. "But I'm glad it has."

[Dante Grixis]

Dante chuckled, "Me too, Henry, me too." He looked out the open door into the rainy night and was silent for a minute. He was suddenly hit with the realization that he had much business that needed tending to.

He had to find Evie and show her that he was back. He figured by this point his child was already born, but he couldn't be sure. He had no idea how much time had transpired since his death. Henry didn't look too much older, but he looked more mature, as if the time that had passed had been long and difficult.

Dante also had business with the Prince that had ended his life. He didn't know what he would say, or what he would do, but he knew that he had to see him.

But tonight was not a night for vengeance or redemption, it was a night for celebrating and reconnecting with his old friend. "What say we go get a drink, Henry?" He said with a smile as he turned back to Henry.

[Henry Renold]

Henry paused, just for a moment, before breaking into a grin and nodding wildly.
"I'd say that was a damn good idea my friend! But maybe not at the Black Bear..."

The last time Henry had been there he had cause quite a seen on the roof of the tavern and he didn't think anyone would want to see him back quite yet. But there were enough other pubs and inns in Camelot to see that both he and Dante were well and truly intoxicated by the time they left for home.

But where was home now?

Henry had been living in Dante's house since his...passing, and now that he was back it begged the question of where he was to go. There was no way two grown men could live there together and he couldn't expect Dante to leave. He wouldn't dare mention it to his friend though, he would simply find somewhere to crash for tonight and look for a more permanent residence tomorrow.

"So where to?" He asked, his smile never faltering.