"Lucy Potter and the Vengeance of Lucifer" - Lucy Potter Book 2 - Chapters 1 to 3

“Lucy Potter and the Vengeance of Lucifer’





by Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly

© 2009

www.noahidebooks.com



NOTE: SC = Since Creation (calendar)

Chapter One



5992 SC



The eternal Dreamlord, unnoticed, entered the throneroom of Zaphon.
He had time to spend with the God of the Covenant. The eternal Father
of Glory. He approached the throne. The flame of the eternal spirit
of God burned brightly, as it had always done, above the throne of
glory. All his life Daniel had known that flame. He had, from time
to time, studied the flame – the spark of the Glory of God. It flowed
through, in endless random patterns and variations, all the colours of
life. Often, for days at a time, a persistent streak of a colour
would radiate from the flame above the throne, and then suddenly
change without notice. At other times the flame flickered bright
sparks, sparks of red and orange, blue and green, and even dark black
on various occasions. No angel – no eternal – not even the humans
Enoch or Elaine understood the purpose of the flame or why it did what
it did. And, so it was felt, to guess the eternal mind of their
eternal God – a creature beyond the fathoming of even the greatest
minds of eternity’s realm – seemed, while not perhaps pointless,
certainly beyond the greatest of endeavours the community of God’s
angels could ever consider.



The Dreamlord spoke. ‘Father. Are you there?’ Nothing answered the
Dreamlord’s question. Nothing immediately, anyway. He looked at the
flame for a few moments more and decided, as others often did, that
God perhaps was unwilling to speak to them at that time. Silence
often responded to many angelic inquiries.



The Dreamlord turned, walking back towards the doors to leave the
throneroom. He looked at the benches alongside the walls of the
throneroom and decided to sit down momentarily, reviewing his
thoughts.



After a few moments, having seated himself down, the voice of God
spoke. ‘Yes.’ Daniel looked at the flame. Cautiously he began with
his request. ‘Father. The child of David Potter. Lucy. My eternal
sister from Azaphon. I have a request regarding her welfare. Elaine
Belloc, Michael’s daughter, has shown a great interest in Lucy. She
desired Lucy’s protection. Her safety and welfare. I understand, of
course, that in life – in this human life you have planned for each of
us your children – that innocence is often destroyed. Often unjustly
and brutally evil triumphs over good and darkness prevails. Yet I
also know that your eternal spirit of justice always rights wrongs.
That the truth and love of God always prevails. However, in relation
to Miss Potter, on behalf of Elaine I would likewise request your
special intervention. Your special favour. Your hand of protection.
I would, heavenly father, if you were to accede to this request of
mine, be most grateful.’ The Dreamlord left off speaking. Silence
answered his request. Yet, after what was perhaps a moments
consideration by the eternal, a word of God came forth. ‘Life.’ The
Dreamlord sat there, thinking on that. ‘Life.’ Now what kind of
answer was that? Life. Hmmm. He looked at the flame, a quizzical
look on his face, but decided to let it go. He stood, and said,
‘Thank you Father.’ He turned to leave and, just as he was about to
exit the throneroom another word was spoken, seemingly, seemingly at
the back of his mind, yet seemingly from the throne of God as well.
It was, again, one word. ‘Destiny.’



The Dreamlord turned to look at the flame. It burned, as it always
had. It burned, suddenly turning from red to bright orange, and a few
sparks coming forth. He looked at the flames, considered that word,
and turned and left the throneroom of Zaphon of the Realm of Eternity.



* * * * *



5992 SC



Lucy looked at the cat, once again, miaowing furiously in the air of
Shelandragh’s living room. ‘Mushroom. Control yourself. You know
full well I will not let you down until I am finished what I have
intended to do. Yet Mushroom, as belied Shelandragh May’s favourite
cat in her long sojourn through life, persisted miaowing at her female
opponent. The cat, quite sick to death at being the pawn in one of
Lucy’s many spell attacks, decided to hiss at her. Perhaps that would
work. She let out a ‘hissss.’ Lucy looked sternly at the cat.
‘Mushroom. Watch your temper. For that I will punish you.’ She
pointed her wand at mushroom and said a single word. ‘Tailfreeze.’ A
white light came forth from her wand, and Mushroom’s tail dutifully
froze up. Mushroom, in response, screeched and hissed furiously at
Lucy. ‘That is for your temper, Mushroom. Now, keep quiet.’ Lucy,
having today been working on various spell combinations, which was
combining elements of certain spells together to produce unique and
original results, thought on her next spell. She looked at the
grandfather clock against the wall, and decided on one of the new
spells she had been thinking of. Pointing her wand, she spoke,
‘Chronos Reversus’. However, instead of a light coming forth from her
wand, something different happened. Something like a spiritual bubble
started wrapping around her. Soon she was totally enshrouded by it.
Looking at mushroom, she noticed the cats’s tail unfreezing as quickly
as it froze. And a few seconds later, the cat started descending to
the floor, in the same manner as she had used the hover spell. Lucy
was puzzled. What, exactly, was going on? After a few moments,
Shelandragh entered the room. Yet, as bizarre as it looked, walking
backwards, and in a most strange manner sitting down as if she was
getting up from her chair in reverse. She looked at Shelandragh for a
few moments and then it occurred to her just what was going on. Time
was flowing backwards. The spell she had cast, Chronos Reversus,
while only intended to affect the clock on the wall, had affected the
whole area she was in. She thought on what she needed to do and tried
one of her new spell combination ideas. ‘Chronos Cease.’ Instantly
everything froze. Nothing was moving. The fire in the fireplace did
not flicker. The cat did not move, nor did Shelandragh. And the
clock on the wall was not moving. Very interesting, Lucy thought to
herself. But how did she get things flowing again. She thought on
that and then the obvious spell came to her. She pointed her wand and
said, ‘Chronos’. Instantly the bubble departed, and everything
started again. Shelandragh was actually speaking. ‘….so if you will
excuse me, I will get myself a cup of tea.’ Shelandragh got up from
her chair, as before, and left the room. Watching her go, Lucy
realized that time had restored itself. But now, in a strange way,
she was living in the past. Yet that was only for a few moments. She
would catch up shortly.



She sat down, thinking over the new spell. It could prove
interesting, to say the least, to use the spell in certain
situations. But, perhaps, that would not be the right thing to do.
It was like cheating, she thought to herself, if she used the spell
unfairly. But, in a dangerous situation – a situation were the use of
the spell was appropriate – well, that would be alright.



Shelandragh came into the room holding a cup of tea, and sipping from
it slowly. She looked at Lucy, noting the puzzling look on her
student’s face. ‘Is something concerning you, Lucy?’ Lucy looked at
her for a few moments before replying. ‘Uh. No Shelandragh. Well,
yes. But I don’t think I can talk about it.’ ‘Well whatever it is, I
am sure it can wait until later. For now we have one last thing in
today’s lesson to concern ourselves with, if that is okay by you?’
Lucy nodded. ‘Now,’ continued Shelandragh, ‘you have learnt the runes
now, and know each of them. Ancient Celtic runic witchcraft is barely
remembered in the old world of Terra and Britannia. Today I will
teach you your first spell in an ancient Celtic language. The spell
is called (Fire in the Water). This spell can make even water burn as
fuel. Now, here, take this cup,’ said Shelandragh, handing Lucy her
cup of tea. ‘Careful, it’s hot.’ Lucy took the cup, holding it by
the handle. ‘Best if you place it on the table, Lucy.’ Lucy did so.
‘Now take your wand. Point it at the cup and say (Fire in the
Water).’ Lucy did as Shelandragh asked, and immediately a bright
flame started up coming from the tea in the teacup. ‘Wow,’ said Lucy,
happy at her success. ‘The flame will continue until all the liquid
is used up, basically like kerosene or wax, but it should last quite a
while. As always, I trust you will only use this spell in appropriate
circumstances.’ ‘Yes, Shelandragh,’ said Lucy, very used to the oft-
spoken lesson.



* * * * *



5992 SC



‘Ooh. Back again are we.’ ‘Why yes, Minxy. It is I.’ The sprite of
the crossing of Chakola, in response to Lucy’s summoning, was hovering
just in front of her. Lucy, over the last few weeks since the
incident in Cooma and becoming Lucy the Hero had slowly been growing
in confidence. She had been speaking to Minxy, carefully though, to
learn as much about life that the sprite could teach her – to learn
the lessons she felt she needed to know. She had come to know that
Minxy’s sprite family had come from much further upstream, up near the
source of the river. Near the head, as in many rivers, congregations
of sprite families often lived and had their communities. Going
downstream, as it was called, was rarely practiced as, quite often,
the quality of the water deteriorated through use, especially, so she
had learned, in some of the larger rivers of the world. However, the
Newmerella river was most usually extremely clean and good water. Of
course, animal matter often floated downstream, as the river flowed
past a number of farms. Yet, usually, the river was still quite clean
and good to live in.



Lucy had been asking Minxy about life as a sprite and the kind of
things she thought life was all about. Minxy seemed wise. She was,
as many sprites were, quite old. Over 300 years Minxy had been living
at Chakola, and about 1000 years more upstream at the head were her
old family still resided. Lucy, as children her age usually did,
quite enjoyed Minxy’s cute humour. She was oh so sarcastic. She
teased Lucy, often, quite shockingly. She suggested certain sexual
activities that Lucy may want to consider very soon, often, to Lucy’s
surprise, quite brazenly. Once, when Jayden was over working with
David just in the paddock a little away from the crossing, Minxy
suggested to Lucy that she should shag him when he gets a little
older. Lucy had been most embarrassed. She really viewed Jayden as
more of a brother than a potential boyfriend. But he had been growing
a little cuter over the last few years she had known him. She would
remember Minxy’s words, though, and consider Jayden in a few years.
Perhaps around 14 or 15 when she planned on having her first
boyfriend.



‘So what do you want to know today, Lucy. Hey. Huh.’ ‘You really do
have an attitude, don’t you Minxy.’ ‘Lucy, Lucy, Lucy. What is life
without a spark? So many people are sooo bloody boring. Like David,
for example. The intelligence of a farmer indeed. Sheer the sheep.
Fix the fence. Plow the field. Oh, exciting. Now that looks like
fun. Don’t ya think.’ ‘Well someone has to do it, don’t they
Minxy?’ ‘Mmm. Whatever. I suppose. I guess I have my work as
well. But the life of a sprite is far more interesting, I dare say.’
‘Why do you say that Minxy?’ ‘Well, I shouldn’t let on. Really, I
shouldn’t. But there are regular sprite and dryad gatherings we hold
around here. We do all sorts of things.’ ‘Like what?’ ‘Wouldn’t you
like to know.’ ‘So you are not going to tell me?’ ‘Maybe when you
are older, Lucy. Maybe when you are older.’ ‘Go on. Please tell
me.’ ‘Well, seeing as you asked. A lot of S-E-X. Pretty much a hell
of a lot of S-E-X.’ Lucy looked at Minxy, a little embarrassed. ‘Oh,
I see.’ ‘Oh, shocking aren’t I. Whatever will they think of next.
Huh. Huh.’ Lucy looked at Minxy and decided that was about enough of
that for the day. She felt, perhaps, a little too much of such
conversation could lead to things that young Lucy was not quite ready
for. ‘I must leave now, Minxy. Umm. Things to take care of.’
‘Whatever,’ Minxy said in return, and dutifully flew back down to the
riverbed. Lucy left the crossing and slowly walked back up to the
schoolhome, the thoughts of Minxy’s words on her mind.



* * * * *



Lucy looked at the pamphlet her mum, Caroline, had handed to her upon
walking through the doorway of her schoolhome in Chakola. ‘Cooma
Fair. Centennial Park. February 14. Be there or be square.’ Lucy,
very quickly, decided she didn’t want to be square, so assented to her
mother’s suggestion she attend the fair with David’s children. She
read through the pamphlet, looking at the activities for the day: The
band ‘The Extreme Kings’ would be playing at Mid-day and at 9.00pm.
There were various markets with traditional fare goods. Also, other
standard show attractions appropriate to the park. However, what
caught Lucy’s eye, was the tent of magic which was to be set up. She
would have to speak to Shelandragh about this as soon as possible to
let her know. Shelandragh, Lucy felt, would be most interested in
that attraction.



Later that night, having finally finished ‘Born of Thunder’, the
Asatru spiritual epic, Lucy thought on that subject Minxy had
mentioned. It was her 11th birthday very soon. February 13th, in
fact. The day before the fair. Perhaps, on her 11th birthday, which
such an age might warrant, she would look at one of those magazines at
the newsagent. The new ones with all the pictures of men through
them. She had never noticed them before, but when she was last at
‘Percy’s newsagent’ she had noticed, looking through the ‘girlie’
magazine section, a couple of magazines which were apparently filled
with men. She was, of course, far to young to think such things.
But, perhaps, at 11, having a look through might prepare her for the
boyfriend she planned at a later date. Give her the necessary
exposure and understanding to know what she needed to know on such
issues as S-E-X. It should prove an interesting study, young Miss
Lucy Potter thought to herself.



* * * * *



5992 SC



Grimlock, sitting in his abode on Sharp street in Cooma, sat looking
at an old photo of his late wife Matilda. Grimlock and Matilda had
known each other briefly. The romance had been quick – sudden
really. In terms of looks, Grimlock was average, or so he thought.
Yet Matilda had claimed that he did have a certain charm to his looks,
more noticeable with experience. Matilda, Grimlock felt, was a bit
beyond what he deserved. She was, while not a stunner as in those
magazines, certainly above average in looks. She had been non-magical
– a muggles. And she had taken no interest in the subject when he had
brought it up. However, what he felt she had seen in him, having
reflected on her words over the years, was a basic sense of stability
and competence. She had once said that he was not, really, a flakey
type of a person. Quite sure of himself, she had thought. Grimlock
considered this often. Her words had influenced his life since that
time. He did, considering himself, generally agree. He did not
really devote much time to the ‘stupid’ passions of the muggles.
Simplistic idiots. Better off dead, which he had in fact arranged for
the three philosophers in particular. In relation to the issue of
human life, Grimlock was not quite moral in his judgement. He did not
think that life, for a muggles, was really worth much. That they
were, in a way, less advanced. Less evolved. His idea of human life
and its origins were based around a spiritual power of passion and
fire. Through evolution the fire of life sought out those with spirit
to advance them to the next level of human development. In his
beliefs, the work he undertook as a human could change his genetic
structure over a life-time, further affecting his seed. He had, as a
full-blood, the power to evolve to the next level. To become a
‘force’ of life. A will of indomitable strength. To succeed in this
war of survival of the fittest, were only the strong survived, the
weak were eliminated. If necessary, killed and destroyed. Best to do
away with the weaker elements. Let them die out, as they served no
great purpose in the game of life.



Yet, occasionally, he was convicted. He had, once, been to church. A
Baptist one. The pastor had spoken to him personally and shared the
basic message of the Christian faith. It had confused him. It
offered a perspective not quite like his own. A sense of morality –
of decency – of kindness – which was not how Grimlock knew the world
to work. It was idiotic, ultimately, to Grimlock’s judgement. To the
truths he understood. Yet, they were enticing. They were enticing.
And the bible which sat in his bookcase he had read, rarely mind you,
but read from time to time.



The idea of the ‘God’ presented in the bible Grimlock did not really
relate to. It was a personal god. A being which, apparently, cared
for mankind. This seemed to be the way it was presented. Grimlock
did not, really, believe in this god. It was at odds with his own
views. But he did seem interesting. Interesting. Perhaps his
beloved Matilda was somewhere in the universe. Perhaps in the
‘heaven’ which Christians went on about. He did like to think that
would be nice. Yet perhaps just entertaining a fantasy about life. A
fantasy of what the meaning to it all was all about.





Chapter Two





5992 SC



‘Yes Lucy. I do know of the magic tent.’ ‘Will you be getting
involved at all with it Shelandragh?’ ‘Nothing directly planned,
Lucy. Naturally I will visit the tent. Alfric informed me that it is
being organised by some witches from Sydney. They have a more
established network up there – more resources to organise such
affairs.’ ‘Has there been anything like this in Cooma before?’ ‘Not
that I can recall. However, in recent years these sorts of gatherings
have become more and more popular. Much of the time wiccan witches
are involved. However, those of the older traditional craft, before
such things as wicca became mainstream, are often involved as well.
The Ministry oversees affairs in the traditional witch scene, however
the newer wiccan movements are often quite independent, more flexible
to the passions and desires of today. Not, Lucy, so steeped in
tradition. As a case in point, I have had relations with a particular
wiccan witch from Perth who calls herself the ‘Wiccan witch of the
west’ – I am sure you get the reference.’ Lucy nodded, but the
reference was actually lost on her.



‘She is, for a witch, extremely outgoing and passionate. Not in any
way of the dark side as our adversaries are, but, rather, dedicated to
the fires and passions of life. In fact, quite passionate from my
observations. Have you yet seen the ‘Craft’? Lucy looked at her, a
little confused. ‘The Craft?’ A movie from a number of years ago
about modern witchery. An American movie of teenage girls
experimenting in witchcraft.’ ‘What was the movie about?’ ‘Dramatic
teen witchery – typical teen drama for Hollywood, really. Yet the
dress code of these witches seems, from what I have noticed, to have
had a dramatic impact on the dress code of many teenage girls in
society. Witchcraft is now, thankfully, becoming socially
acceptable. This particular witch friend of mine from Perth was
infatuated with the movie. She models herself on their ways, and
pushes witchcraft to be accepted. Of course it has not always been as
such.’



Lucy, having grasped a little from Shelandragh of the difficulties
witches used to face, asked her a question. ‘Witches haven’t always
been accepted. Have they?’ ‘No Lucy. Not until recent years. In
fact, witch trials and witch hunts, with witches often having been put
to death for very simple magic, litters our history. There have been
dark witches in the past, but often from my memories and my own
experience we were simply attracted to some of the ideas of magic and
rebellion against the establishment.’ ‘The establishment?’ queried
Lucy. ‘The life and values our society has developed over its
history, Lucy. For example, the old testament teaches that witches
and magical people should be executed.’ Lucy reacted quite strongly
to this information. ‘That’s not right. It shouldn’t say that.
Madalene has never said anything like that too me.’ ‘Lucy, Madalene
probably does not yet know of this teaching. Many people in the
church do not read the bible in any great detail. It is, in a way, a
fading text.’



‘But why does it say those things? Why does God hate witches so?’
‘It was, really Lucy, a misunderstanding amongst the early chroniclers
of Jewish law. They were reactionary against their slavery and the
oppression they had suffered in Egypt. They took out their vengeance
in introducing malicious death penalties to wipe out their enemies.
They were, in truth, motivated by revenge and hate, rather than
forgiveness and love. However, certain biblical passages justify the
murder of witches and wizards when demonic beings are involved. This
is, in a way, less problematic. We – you and I – as witches need to
be dedicated to the light. People will always remain interested in
magic and spiritual energy, and it should never be forbidden their
knowledge. Yet caution is required. The darker forces in the magical
realm often interfere with Lightworkers activities, bringing disrepute
to the reputation we actually deserve.’ ‘But they shouldn’t kill
witches just because they contact demons? That is mean?’ ‘I
understand were you are coming from, Lucy. But remember, the nature
of evil is vengeful and dark. Full of maliciousness and hate. Those
who corrupt their hearts and give themselves over to the dark side
have, in truth, already started on the pathway to death from were they
will improbably return, perhaps as Solomon says in his proverbs.’
Lucy nodded, but uneasiness was in her heart. She hated the death
penalty. People needed to be allowed to live. They needed to know
that they were loved and could be forgiven. This was, in the heart of
young miss Lucy Potter, a most fierce and decided passion.



* * * * *



5992 SC



The Xtreme Kings looked at each other, a little nervous. Jerry tapped
on his drums a little, while Ty started plugging in some cords to a
Marshall amp. Doug began riffing on his Bass guitar, some new ideas
coming through. In front of the concrete stage, with a curved roof
overhead, the various citizens of Cooma were busy enjoying the fair
which had started that morning at 9.00. The Xtreme Kings had begun
setting up at around 10.00 and their first show was to start at 12.00
mid-day. They had performed in the pubs in Cooma from time to time,
but this was their first major gig. They had 7 songs in the morning
set and 7 more in the evening set. They had selected their best
material of the thirty or so pieces they had finished, and hoped for
good things.



Their second album, the Stoned Philosophers, had been picked up by
Warner Brothers records in Australia. This one, they hoped, would be
their breakthrough album. They had different sounding material on
this album – not like their first. It was laced with religious
elements, a popular topic of conversation for the Kings. The first
song, ‘In the New Age’ was an intense musical rush. Extremely
condemning of the ‘New Age Movement’, which they had decided to have a
go at. Of course, the killer track on the album was the second one,
their best song, ‘Goldilox’. This was an intense musical melodrama of
forlorn love. A heart devoted to a lady, so hard to get. Almost out
of reach. It was, for the kings, their purest moment. They had
initially decided to call the Album ‘Out of the Silent Planet’, and
had designs of multiple earths on the cover. But they had ultimately
decided on the ‘Stoned Philosophers’, in honour of their fallen
friends. Warners had suggested a band-name change to ‘Kings X’, but
the band had decided to stick with the name ‘The Extreme Kings’.



The other killer track on the album was ‘Shot of Love’, which was a
rewritten version of ‘Afterlife’. The music was the same, but they
had decided to change the song title to reflect the heart they had for
their fallen friends. They had sent the philosophers, in their heart,
off to God – off to heaven – and prayed a spirit of love from God to
come to them to inspire their hearts.



They decided to start with those three tracks in that order, and
choose the rest as they went along.



* * * * *



5992 SC



George Daley, aged 55 – the Cherubim Saruviel - Brigid’s brother and
David’s brother in-law sat with Hubert in front of the stage were the
Xtreme Kings were warming up. Elizabeth, George’s wife was seated
next to George. A friend of Hubert’s, Kylie, was sitting with them.
George began speaking. ‘My brother Daniel has their debut CD. He is
a big fan.’ Hubert nodded. ‘Yeh. We have a few copies in the shop.
They sell occasionally. A bit different, but there ok.’ ‘What type
of music do you like Kylie?’ Elizabeth asked Kylie. ‘I like Eminem.
S Club 7 are ok as well.’ Elizabeth nodded. ‘I have never really
listened to Eminem, but George has an S Club 7 cd. The first one.
They are really good. Very positive. Funloving. I like them.’ ‘Who
do you like Elizabeth?’ Kylie asked. ‘Jewel is one of my favourites.
As well as Delta Goodrem.’ ‘Yeh, I like Delta,’ said Kylie.



Up on the stage Doug announced they were about to begin. The kings
were, now, extremely well experienced at their craft. They were by no
means a young band. They had been playing music for years, and now in
their middle-age. But they had gained passion in recent years and
were now ready to really push. They were sure they were on the verge
of a breakthrough for themselves.



The music began. An introduction flowed out in the most original and
unique of sounds. And then the lyrics. ‘The Riddle of the Ages is
the New Age of the End, when the souls and hearts of mankind no longer
call God friend. The Riddle of the ages is the New age you will
find. Were they follow riches vainly, and unto God they are so
blind.’ The song continued on with ever more complex lyrics, yet this
didn’t really bother the audience who took it as standard rock metal.
The kind of stuff they were used to.



They finished the song and the audience reacted quite positively.
They had seemed to like it. Doug steadied himself, prayed a quick
prayer, and began his soulful melody. ‘I wish you were here with me,
my heart in yours, devotedly. I wish my soul was joined with you.
Forever pure, forever true. I say these words, they are my soul, to
sweetest love who makes me whole. Be with me, forever mine, and I
will love you for all time.’



At the end, the audience was quiet. It had taken them by surprise.
It was, musically, different. Decent. Kind. Some hearts had
softened a little, and slowly people started clapping a bit. Doug
looked at Ty, who nodded. He looked at Jerry who nodded also. He
gave a little grin, and started on the next track.



* * * * *



Lucy sat with Madalene, Jayden and Georgia a distance away from the
stage, all of them eating chips. Lucy looked, nervously, so as not to
show it, at Georgia’s new scar. Just the previous night Georgia had
been with Lucy at the farmhouse with Jayden and Madalene. Georgia had
been outside for around half an hour, and Caroline had suggested Lucy
go off looking for her. She had found her down by the stream, having
apparently fainted. And, seemingly, she had hit her head, as a wound,
hauntingly in the shape of an ‘l’, now graced her forehead. Right
between here eyes. Georgia could not remember how she had gotten the
scar. In fact, she had said she could not remember anything since
leaving the house. Caroline and Brigid both assumed that what was
probably a bump to the head had made her forgetful. Brigid, Georgia’s
mother, had taken her to the hospital in the morning to have her
checked out. The doctor at emergency advised caution, but said she
seemed generally ok. They had glued the wound together, rather than
stitching it, which was a newer treatment.



The ‘l’ haunted Lucy. It seemed as if it was an ‘l’ named
deliberately after herself. As if Georgia had gotten herself
entangled in something and taken the ‘l’ in Lucy’s honour – as her
friend. They were strange thoughts for Lucy. Paranoid really. But
after the incident with Lucifer Malfoy, she still worried a little.



Unknown to Lucy, though, was that Alexander Darvanius II had sent one
of his henchman, Brax, to place a spiritual ‘bug’ upon young Georgia –
one through which he could watch over and keep his eye upon young Lucy
Potter. Brax had grabbed Georgia down by the forge of Chakola, and
placed the spell upon her. And, to complete the spell, Brax had taken
out a pocket knife, carving the slightest ‘l’ mark into her forehead,
not to damaging, to appear as if she had hit her head. Yet that mark,
the ‘l’ for ‘Lucy’, enabled Alexander Darvanius II to trace young Miss
Potter, so as to be aware of her whenever he needed to.



Alexander Darvanius II had studied witchcraft and was adroit, like
many masters, in the ways of witchery. He was attuned, in particular,
to the dark side of magic, yet, in his redeemable way, Saruviel was
not ultimately evil. Perhaps, if anything, misunderstood. The mark
he had born in his youth, for a short few years, the birthmark of 6 6
6, was undoubtedly the work of prophecy. Alexander himself knew
nothing of the mark, as it had faded before he had known about it, and
in this respect he was as much a pawn of prophecy as anyone could
possibly be.



Yet the father of Glory, long ago, had planned out a destiny for his
son Saruviel. Lucy Potter, the lastborn of the children of Heaven,
was key in that destiny. Lucy, with the aid of many others, would in
time defeat Alexander Darvanius II and his attempts to rule
Christendom and the world. For soon, just ahead in the years of life
for young Lucy Potter, the Taheb – The Seraphim Angel Davriel of the
Realm of Eternity – would come into prominence, making Israel’s great
declaration before the children of mankind. And then, Darvanius
empire – his glorious New World Order – would begin forming in
response to his bitter opponent, the Taheb. Yet, Darvanius would be
defeated, and the Taheb would emerge triumphant. The Taheb – the Son
of God – and the first Messiah would emerge and fulfill his rulership
for 400 years, the allotted time prophetically for the Messiah’s
rulership in writings of Esdras.



* * * * *



5992 SC



‘Yeah, whatever. But Herbie’s better.’ ‘Herbie. You call that piece
of junk Herbie? That’s a joke, right. Herbie. Ha.’ ‘Watch it,
creep.’ That said, the creep who had been pestering Lindsay and
boasting about his Ford Falcon, walked away. Lindsay, grateful to see
the pest leave, said to Herbie, ‘Ignore that creep Herbie. He has no
idea what he is talking about. You’re going to win, alright. You’re
going to win.’ In response to that encouragement, Herbie let out a
honk on his horn, which gave Lindsay a puzzled look. Lindsay was at
the Canberra Dragway, having entered Herbie into a dragster
competition. The organisers had thought, looking at the car, that
while they understood the practical joke Lindsay was playing on them
in entering the competition, they decided to let her enter anyway for
comic relief. She was now, though, ready to put Herbie to the
ultimate test. She’d had Herbie fitted, at her grandfather’s great
expense, a jet engine specially designed for a bug. Her father had
said she was a nut, but she loved Herbie and decided to do it anyway.
And now she was ready to put Herbie to the ultimate test.



The creep who was her opponent in the next dragrace had mocked Herbie,
but she knew she could win. She was going to come first, that was
certain. ‘Well, Lucy. The race is set to start shortly. You had
better get back to your seat.’ ‘Good luck, Lindsay. You’re going to
win.’ ‘You bet.’ Lucy left the race track and returned to her seat
next to Shelandragh and Darren, who were both anxiously looking on.
Shelandragh turned to her. ‘Is Lindsay nervous?’ ‘No, I think she is
okay, Shelandragh. I think she is determined to win.’ ‘What was all
that with the other racer?’ asked Darren. ‘Oh, he was having a go at
Herbie. But Lindsay told him to go away.’



The announcer came over the loudspeakers declaring that the next race
was about to begin. As Lucy watched on, Lindsay drove Herbie up to
the starting line. ‘Good luck Lindsay,’ Lucy whispered to herself.



Inside Herbie, Lindsay started pushing some special buttons – buttons
which she had not told the organisers about. The Jet engine
propulsion system started charging up, and out the back of Herbie
panels rolled back and orange fiery flames started shooting out. The
people in the stands started yelling and shouting, pointing to the
flames. Lucy looked at them, and wandered just what Herbie was now
made of.



One of the race organisers came over to speak to Lindsay. ‘Just what
the hell is in your car?’ he asked. Lindsay gave him a cute look and
said, ‘An engine.’ The organiser went to look at the back of the car
and stared at the flames for a moment. He came back to Lindsay, shook
his head, saying, ‘Yeah, well. Good luck.’ ‘Thanks.’



The track cleared, and the crowd started its usual tumultuous
behaviour. Lindsay looked at the lights. They suddenly started on
red. ‘Okay Herbie. Here we go.’ The lights went through their
colours and when they hit green, Lindsay pushed the accelerator to the
floor and Herbie belted away.



The race was over in a flash. The two cars started together, but
after a split second, Herbie flashed like lightning as the jet engines
power pushed the bug to the limit. And then, when Herbie passed the
finish line, well in front of the creep opponent, Lindsay yelled out,
‘Herrrbiieee.’ The crowd, as such crowds usually do, erupted. Cheers
were everywhere. Lindsay slowed Herbie down, and the bug eventually
came to a stop. She got out of Herbie and raised her hand to wave to
the crowd. ‘The cheering was intense and Lindsay had won.’ Sitting
in the crowd, Lucy had a big smile on her face. ‘Way to go Herbie,’
she said softly.





Chapter Three



5992 SC



Lucifer Malfoy sat in his cell on the island of Azkerban, off the
northern coast of Scotland – an island hidden from mankind by the
spells of the Ministry of Magic – brooding intensely. In his heart
one idea had permeated thoroughly – vengeance on the witch child Lucy
Potter. Having escaped his prison cell of Azkerban the old fashioned
way, a way not thought to too closely monitor by his Ministry captors,
simply by digging an escape tunnel with a metal spoon he had stolen
from his dinner room, Lucifer had been sent by his brother Alexander
Darvanius II to monitor Lucy and associate with Grimlock.



For reasons Lucifer knew not, Alexander feared the young witch –
feared her greatly. Lucifer had suggested they simply kill her and
have done with it, but Alexander had recoiled greatly at the
suggestion – alarmed almost. No, it would simply be best if Lucifer
worked under Grimlock’s authority, and that had meant eliminating Mr
Merryweather, even if Lucy became aware of whom Lucifer was. But the
little witch had cast a ‘Relocate’ spell on him, without specifying a
location and, now, he had been taken to the point such a spell had
last been cast upon him, to his cell were the Ministry of Magic had
sent him, through the same spell, to live. And since then he had
brooded.



He had a gut instinct that Alexander would get him out. Most of the
work Lucifer undertook for the family was, in a way, out of kicks. He
liked being the bad guy in the family – it suited him – and doing the
dirty work was not a problem. But, like Alexander, he had the long
term goal in mind and as the ‘Western Alliance’ grew in power under
his brother’s influence, and his father, Alexander Darvanius I
completed his work in uniting Christendom, it would soon come one day
in which is family, and the other head families of the Illuminati,
ruled the world. Yet for now he would have to patiently wait the
freedom his brother Alexander would bring him.



* * * * *



‘Yes Lucy, she said yes.’ Lucy smiled, ever so happy at the good
fortune of one of her mentors from the Ministry of Magic, Darren
Merryweather. Darren’s girlfriend in Sydney had said yes to Darren’s
recent proposal, and was now in the process of arranging a permanent
transfer down to Canberra in the national carpeting company she worked
for. Fortunately the company had been scratching around for a new
area manager for the Canberra district, and Carol Davidson seemed the
perfect choice, or so she’d told Darren that her supervisor’s had
claimed. They had set the date for early January 2023, just a year
from then. Lucy was pleased and delighted that Carol had said yes,
and as Carol was planning on coming down to Cooma for a few weeks,
Lucy looked forward to meeting her for the first time.



That day Lucy was with Darren at Alfric’s house in Deakin in
Canberra. They had been studying various textbooks on magic lore, and
then Alfric had announced that, beginning 2023, if Lucy would accept
the offer, she could begin studying under a Ministry sponsored
scholarship at ‘Zeraxxus’, the school for wizards and witches in
Sydney, hidden in the ‘Rocks’ area of Sydney.



Lucy had been overjoyed at the news and looked forward to telling
Shelandragh and her mother when she got home. Of course, her regular
schooling could continue in either Cooma or Canberra, or even Sydney
if she wanted to, but the magic school would run through the regular
school terms holiday times, which would mean a very full year of study
for young Miss Lucy Potter.



‘Well, dear young Lucy. What have you learned today.’ Lucy, sitting
at Alfric’s table, staring through the window, was lost in thought.
Darren looked at her, waved his hand, and said ‘Lucy’, but with no
response. He turned to Alfric. ‘She must be off with the fairies.’

Lucy turned to Darren and said ‘Very funny’, at which Darren and
Alfric smiled. ‘I have learned lots of things,’ she responded.
‘Another grand day of witchcraft.’

‘I only hope you are saying that when you are my age,’ replied Alfric.

‘How old are you anyway, master Alfric?’ queried Lucy.

Darren looked at Alfric, curious as well. ‘A good question Lucy. I
wonder what the response will be.’



Alfric looked at both of them, sat down at the table, and took a drink
from the glass of juice in front of him. And then he began, ‘Age is
not so important as you may presume, younglings.’

‘Younglings?’ queried Darren, slightly taken aback being called as
such for a grown man.

‘Yes, younglings,’ continued Alfric. ‘Yet as I was saying, despite my
many years, which by modern comparisons are vast indeed, age is not
everything. It seems to me, from personal observation that wisdom –
true wisdom – can lie in a soul at a bear 10 years of age, often
vastly contrary to the wisdom which should be there for someone 100
times that age.’

‘Your not a thousand are you?’ asked Lucy earnestly.

‘I could only wish, young lady. Nay, I am yet to reach my millennial
year, but it beckons, as do the days of older age. But I did know a
man, once – a fierce wizard of a man – who had crossed the threshold
of a thousand years, but by no means by the grace of love and life one
would, or should expect, for such an accomplishment. Yet Voldemort
was not living, nor seemingly ever had done, for the pleasures of
goodness towards his fellow mankind. His long age, I fear, has been
gained from the vampiric like soul-sucking of his wizard and witch
victims. For this dark lord sucks their very souls, killing them
quickly, yet extending his own manifold. For such is the evil of this
foul lord.’

Lucy looked at Darren, who nodded to her.

‘This is Voldemort? Who sent Lucifer? Isn’t it?’

‘The one and the same, young Lucy. Of course, Voldemort, while being
an ancient evil, is not the one we should fear the most. Believe my
words when I tell you that, dear child. You may have heard, these
days, of a certain Alexander Darvanius.’ Darren nodded, ‘The great
ecumenist.’

‘That is him, Darren. Well, from my incantations and peering into the
pool of knowledge, I have discerned a great evil associated with this
man. Not him, directly – I mean not him, personally – but associated
with him. Most definitely associated with this man.’

‘And what evil do we speak of, Alfric,’ queried Darren earnestly.

‘The most ancient of evils, Darren. The most ancient. The one spoken
of in John’s Apocalypse. The final child of wrath who will usher in
the end of the age. The one we of the west have feared for millennia
now, whom is finally approaching.’

Lucy looked at them, a little familiar now with biblical concepts.
‘Do you mean the Antichrist? Like in the Omen? I saw that two weeks
ago with mum. It was really scary.’ Alfric looked at her, and just
nodded his head.

‘So we are living at the end? The end of days?’

Alfric looked out the window for a moment, and then looked at Lucy.
‘Jesus taught the church to know the time of the end, Lucy. When
things begin happening, like he taught, he encouraged the church to
know that the end was at hand – and I fear, now, the end is at hand.’

‘Madalene is in the church,’ said Lucy innocently. ‘But I have never
been baptized. Should I be baptized Alfric?’ Darren listened to that
question with interest, as he had begun taking more of an interest
himself in Christian religion, and had been considering the baptism
question. Alfric raised his hands apprehensively, ‘Of God and truth,
and baptisms and covenants I cannot answer you Lucy. I am aware that,
by birth, you are under the covenant of the Rainbow – the covenant of
our father Noah.’ Lucy looked at him squarely, and brightened. ‘That
is what Brigid’s brother Daniel goes on about. The Noahide
covenant.’ Alfric looked at her, curiousity piqued.

‘The NOAHIDE covenant,’ he queried, most interested.

‘Yes. Noahide means child of Noah. And Daniel is the head of a
fellowship called ‘Haven Noahide Fellowship.’ Alfric looked at
Darren. ‘Do you know anything of this fellowship? I am asking
because, well, I am not strictly speaking a Christian, but have long
abided by the Rainbow as the sign of our covenant with God. It
actually surprises me that a religion exists based on this covenant.’

‘I am not really sure about it myself, Alfric. But I have met Daniel
and will have words with him. Perhaps you two could get together and
have discussions on the subject.’ Alfric nodded, seemingly quite
pleased to have gained this information.



Lucy got her bag and took out the Bible she had with her. Finding the
passage in Genesis which Daniel had shown her, she began reading:



‘And God blessed Noah and his sons. And he said to them: “Increase,
and multiply, and fill the earth.
And let the fear and trembling of you be upon all the animals of the
earth, and upon all the birds of the air, along with all that moves
across the earth. All the fish of the sea have been delivered into
your hand.
And everything that moves and lives will be food for you. Just as with
the edible plants, I have delivered them all to you,
except that flesh with blood you shall not eat.
For I will examine the blood of your lives at the hand of every
beast. So also, at the hand of mankind, at the hand of each man and
his brother, I will examine the life of mankind.
Whoever will shed human blood, his blood will be poured out. For man
was indeed made to the image of God.
But as for you: increase and multiply, and go forth upon the earth
and fulfill it.”
To Noah and to his sons with him, God also said this:
“Behold, I will establish my covenant with you, and with your
offspring after you,
and with every living soul that is with you: as much with the birds as
with the cattle and all the animals of the earth that have gone forth
from the ark, and with all the wild beasts of the earth.
I will establish my covenant with you, and no longer will all that is
flesh be put to death by the waters of a great flood, and, henceforth,
there will not be a great flood to utterly destroy the earth.”
And God said: “This is the sign of the pact that I grant between me
and you, and to every living soul that is with you, for perpetual
generations.
I will place my arc in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the pact
between myself and the earth.
And when I obscure the sky with clouds, my arc will appear in the
clouds.
And I will remember my covenant with you, and with every living soul
that enlivens flesh. And there will no longer be waters from a great
flood to wipe away all that is flesh.
And the arc will be in the clouds, and I will see it, and I will
remember the everlasting covenant that was enacted between God and
every living soul of all that is flesh upon the earth.”
And God said to Noah, “This will be the sign of the covenant that I
have established between myself and all that is flesh upon the earth.’



She stopped reading, and then quoted the chapter and verse, ‘That was
from Genesis 9, 1 to 17.’

Alfric nodded, familiar with the passage, but it was mostly new to
Darren.



‘The Death penalty for murder, I see,’ said Darren. ‘But I guess such
was the era in which the text was written.’

‘Yes,’ nodded Alfric, although having a slightly different perspective
on how important that principle of the covenant was.



‘So someone who follows this is a ‘Noahide’’, stated Lucy. ‘I guess
that makes me a Noahide then.’ Alfric looked at her, somewhat
consoled at such a statement. He put his hand affectionately on her
shoulder, ‘I guess it does dear Lucy. I guess it does.’



They chatted on for a while longer, before Darren announced that the
day’s lesson was finished, and that it was time to return home.



Driving back to Chakola, Lucy thought on the Rainbow. Really, it was
a nice sign to have for her covenant with God. Perhaps, now that she
had decided what her religion was, she could also speak with Daniel
and look even more into what was apparently her religious birthright.
It would, she believed, prove a most enlightening experience.

To Be Continued
.