The Second Tale
DAYS OF THE EXTINGUISHING SUN
Part One
DAYS OF THE EXTINGUISHING SUN
Part One
Chapter One: An Awakening
Earth Standard Year 2200
The residence of Ben-Vell Parker, City of Asgard
Ben-Vell Parker stretched, trying to shake the cobwebs out. His body ached and he rubbed the sore muscles that lay under the surface of his blue skin. It had been a long, dark night in the golden realm. The Plain of Ida had been infested with Wraiths, and he and Beta Ray Bill had to fight their way through the darkness alone in a desperate attempt to drive them back to Limbo.
* (This story takes place after the ending of Fantastic Four 435)
"It is good you have the powers you do," Bill had told him as they tried to find the Wraiths in the sea of night. "You sense things … danger, mostly, but you have a definite awareness of the workings of the Everything. You should say a prayer for your forefathers tonight."
Ben-Vell yawned as he headed for his bath. ‘It’s hard to grasp sometimes,’ he reminded himself, ‘Bill was there during the First Age of Marvels. He’s known of Captain America and Moonstar and even Thanos for over 200 years. It’s funny, all these years growing up he was just that crazy looking guy who was always busy at the ‘Dall writing things down. When he did come out, he was always telling us stories, fairy tales.’ Ben-Vell eased into the tub, pressing a lever that brought in the hot water.
‘We never knew the legends were true.’
Heimdall Library
Ben-Vell checked his wrist chronometer and cursed himself as he skipped up the steps of the ‘Dall. He was late. ‘Shrab,’ he spat as he pulled open the large wooden doors, ‘Bill is going to kill me. Or worse, he’s actually going to make me read his Histories myself.’
He passed the statue of Odin that dominated the Main Hall, remembering to say a quick prayer for those who now resided in Valhalla. Up the winding staircase he ran, ignoring the landings until he reached the seventh floor. As fine shape as he was in, he was quite winded by the time he reached what everybody referred to as Floor Beta.
It was early, so there was sure to be an empty Library - save for himself and Bill. "Oh no," he groaned aloud.
"Oh yes," came the reply, the ever present hint of mischief grating on Ben-Vell’s nerves as it always did.
"So good of you to join us, young Parker," Bill scolded without ever looking up from his books. "As you can see, the Angel has joined us this morning."
Ben-Vell glanced at "the Angel" and wrinkled his nose. "Good morn, Angelica. So good of you to join us this day after. ‘Tis a shame you couldn’t have joined us last night."
"What’s that? The mighty Ben-Vell needed help against a mere hundred Wraiths? No wonder they chose another to bear the burden of Cosmic Protector." Angelica smiled. "Had I known thou sought assistance, I surely would have joined thee on the battlefield."
‘Thor’s hammer,’ Ben-Vell groaned, ‘her voice is even more irritating in the morning.’
"Are the two of you finished?" Beta Ray Bill, warrior and historian, asked. "As I have struggled all these years to tell you, this Eternal War will be decided by those who know the Histories best. Dealing with Thanos was difficult enough, but now with the return of Franklin Richards, things have gotten worse. I should not need to remind you that he nearly slayed Galactus a standard week ago."* Bill rose from the large oaken table and walked to a distant shelf. Ben-Vell and Angelica glanced at each other and smiled, an old joke passing between them without needing to be spoken aloud. As kids, they had always said the key to defeating any enemy in battle for Bill would be for him to take his warrior guise and speak in his scholarly tone. Any enemy would surely yield when faced with an opponent who looked like a warrior and spoke like a professor.
*( Last issue )
As it was, Bill was in his "historian" guise, his orange-yellow skin still present, but his face was more "normal", round at least, but without a defined nose - and certainly not the, as Ben-Vell had once called it as a child, "Dead Horse" face that he wore in his warrior guise. The two guises suited Bill well, for while he was one of the greatest warriors of any Age, he had the gentle heart of an historian, a man content to write down what he knew so that future generations might learn from his knowledge.
"Take the battle last night against the Wraiths," Bill spoke as he returned to the table. He motioned for Ben-Vell and Angelica to sit. "Ben-Vell wanted to drive them not only into the portal, but inside it, all the way to wherever they came from and defeat them there. Had I not been present, Ben-Vell would have gone through that portal and entered the Wraith’s home dimension of Limbo. We could’ve searched for him for a million years inside Limbo and never run across him."
"Good moves, Ben," Angelica chided.
"Stow it," he shot back. "I was mad with rage and yearned to slay the troops of Thanos."
"Sure," Angelica smiled, causing Ben to blush.
"The point," Bill raised his voice, "is that Ben-Vell was either ignorant about what Limbo was like, or had not a clue that the Wraiths were from that Dimension. Thanos and his allies are not so ignorant. If you have not learned this lesson yet, learn it now - they cannot be beaten by raw force. He never could and he never will."
"So what are you saying, Bill?" Angelica asked agitated. "That we have no chance?"
Bill slid the book he had taken off the shelf across the table to Ben-Vell and Angelica, "You will learn the Histories. I will teach you what I can, but there are others from which you can learn as well. In time, you will travel to the planet Rus, where the Elder of the Universe Kamo Tharnn - mentioned in some of my Histories as the Possessor - has long provided the Cosmos a mammoth university and library. Perhaps you will even enroll there. You need to know the past for you are both direct descendants from Marvels of the First Age, as you well know. Ben-Vell can trace his lineage back right to Spider-Man and Captain Mar-Vell and you, Angelica, you have the blood of -"
"Yes, yes, we know, Bill!" Angelica spat, as Ben-Vell looked on with obvious concern and not a little bit of surprise. "There’s no need to tell everyone else, though, is there? I’m not proud of what happened. We know the curse, Bill, we know the betrayal that led to the death of the Sorcerer Supreme! We know that already! Don’t you think I live with the legacy every single day?!?"
"Easy, Angel," Ben-Vell whispered, extending a hand.
"Cram it, Parker!" she hissed. "You’ve got heroes and legends and sacrifice down your family tree, but mine’s littered with betrayals and failures. God, it hurts so much to delve into this, Bill. Why do I have to study this? Every tale uncovers another rotten ancestor. Every story another skeleton for my closet. Why, Bill? Tell me why?!?" Bill watched her closely, studying her. He chose his next words carefully as he placed a heavy, leather-bound tome onto the table in front of her and Ben-Vell.
"Learn the past to save the future."
Chapter Two - When It All Went Wrong
Earth - The First Age of Marvels - 2011
Mount Rainier - State of Washington, United States
"You’ll never take me, you bastards! I will destroy you all! I will tear your body limb from limb, dance on your grave and desecrate your tombstones!"
The Black Knight yawned. "Is this guy for real or what?"
"The Defenders have dealt with this one before and will likely do so again, Dane Whitman," Brunnhilde the Valkyrie answered, smiling.
"Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord! And he’s not a happy dude, my friends!"
The Defenders stood in an arc in front of an old man dressed as Santa Claus, carrying a placard that read: STARK/SUMMERS IN ‘12. His withered face and wrinkled hands betrayed the man’s large, athletic frame. Unlike the "real" Santa Claus, this man had no belly full of jelly. Valkyrie, Black Knight, Firebird, Rogue, Lady Metal and the Hulk had come to the top of Mt. Rainier because their guiding force, Dr. Strange, had told them that clues to the fate of the world were going to be found at the peak.
"Ah don’t get it," Rogue stated, perplexed. "Why would Doctah Strange send us here to find this old man? He can’t have anything to do with the fate of the world, can he?"
The Black Knight and Valkyrie laughed. "Oh, Rogue," Dane chided, "you can tell you’re the new person in this group. This isn’t even the strangest thing we’ve seen this week."
Rogue’s face became flushed with embarrassment, "Ah’m sorry. Ah need some time to get back into this hero thing. Ah’m a bit rusty after my … layoff."
"That is okay," Firebird offered. "We are just glad to have you here. Everyone’s always coming and going with this group, and we are made up of an admittedly older group of heroes, so it’s the perfect place for you to find yourself." Firebird eyed the Hulk as she said this, his blank stare still upon his face.
Bonita Juarez was worried about her … friend, Dr. Bruce Banner. Ever since he had returned over a year ago to the New Mexico desert where his origin unfolded, his Hulk persona was neither the intelligent being he had once become or the Hulk Smash creature he was initially. Bruce himself, was fine, but the Hulk …
The Hulk just stood at the back and stared straight ahead. He never said anything anymore and Bruce didn’t know what went on inside the Hulk’s head during his period of transformation. But if a fight started, he’d help and to the others, that was enough.
But it wasn’t enough for Bonita.
"Hey, did I disappear or something?" Santa Claus exclaimed. He approached the Defenders and paced before them, staring at each in turn. "What am I, an insignificant piece of dirt? Bastards. That was always your problem, you never listened to me. No one ever did. I was just the big goof. Ho ho ho, let me provide the daily cheer but don’t ask my how I feel. Bastards. I hate the lot of you, but especially you, Whitman."
"Settle down, Santa Claus," Lady Metal retorted, smiling inside her mask at the uncomfortable look Dane had on his face. "We’re here to listen to whatever you have to say, just hurry up, okay? I’ve got a date with-"
"Just like your father, you are!" Santa Claus screamed at Lady Metal, raising the curiosity of her teammates who weren’t aware of her secret identity. "Always the lust before the love!"
"That’s enough, old man," Valkyrie commanded, stepping in for her teammate. "You have aided us in the past three times. Once, you had managed to come into possession of the Casket of Ancient Winters. A second time you somehow managed to be stuck in a room alone with Terrax, and when we finally got the doors open, he was unconscious."
"I told you - he had a heart attack. Couldn’t be helped!" Santa Claus ranted, pacing wildly with his STARK/SUMMERS in ’12 sign, before becoming deadly serious. "Everything is about to change. Someone is about to die and that will change everything."
"Who will die?" Valkyrie asked. "And should we stop this death?"
"She’s taking him seriously?" Rogue whispered to the Black Knight.
"Hey, when you’ve been in this group as long as Valkyrie has, nothing surprises you anymore. Doc Strange says to trust this guy, we trust him. End of story."
"Did he tell Val that before or after he and Psy-"
"Again, the one who calls herself Lady Metal is quick with the lip, but slow with the understanding! Never learns! Never will!"
Valkyrie shot Lady Metal a sharp glance. "Please, go on, old man."
"You’re one to talk, Brunnhilde. You’re not exactly a spring chicken yourself, are you? Hrm, did we ever find out who you served before Asgard? I forget, so many things clutter up my mind." Santa Claus mumbled under his breath and scratched his scraggly beard, before shaking his head to clear his thoughts. "Right, what was I saying? Oh yes, the person who will die," the old man coughed and stood up straight. Surprisingly to Rogue, the Black Knight and Lady Metal, none of whom had seen him before, he appeared to be an incredibly well-muscled man. "The person who will die is the beginning of the end! A dreamer, a person who believes in the goodness of others will find nothing but Death. And let me tell you something about Death, she’s a mean ol’ bitch, she is."
The Defenders listened to Santa Claus with varying degrees of humor, interest and seriousness. Lady Metal tapped her metal boots impatiently, sighing audibly.
"Is that it?" the Black Knight asked.
"Is that it?!?" Santa Claus exclaimed, wide-eyed and furious. "I tell you that someone is going to die and it’s the beginning of the end and you ask, ‘Is that it?’ No wonder I always thought you were a jerk, Whitman."
"My apologies, Santa, but we’ve saved the Universe ourselves a hundred times. And that doesn’t count all the times the Avengers saved the Universe, or the X-Men or the Royal Court or the Champions or the Crusaders or the Fanta-"
"Shall we give thee a lift, Santa Claus?" Valkyrie asked, cutting Dane off. "We can take thee wherever thou wish to go."
"No, I’m fine," Santa Claus answered, looking towards the distant horizon. "I’ve got to find a town northwest from here called Olympia. Very important stuff going on down there."
"Got your reindeer hidden around the back of the mountain?" Lady Metal asked.
"You’re not funny, Metal Girl," Santa Claus answered solemnly, "and that wise-arse sense of humor is going to get you and the people around you into trouble. We’ve all got to be serious sometimes."
And with that, Santa Claus walked down the far side of the mountain and started singing a song.
"‘Wouldn't It Be Nice, I believe," the Black Knight identified, though no one seemed to care.
Alaska
"God, I hate being here. I hate this entire tedious process. I hate being away from Jean."
A confident voice laughed in response, "Ah, Scott, you do amuse me. I’m so very glad that I chose you as my running mate."
"I’m thrilled you find me funny," Scott answered indignantly. "I’m glad you can find humor in any of this. I mean, god, we’re only running for the Presidency of the United States here."
Ice cubes clink against a glass and Scott eyes them with concern. "It’s our humor that sees us through these dark times. And, all things considered, these are not that dark of times. Mutants are gaining acceptance, thanks to the Civil Rights Addendum that Charles Xavier was able to work through Congress ten years ago. It’s slow, and it’s painful, but it’s happening. You must be thankful for that, at least."
"Charles Xavier can rot in Hell."
"Your inferiority complex is astounding, Scott Summers," the confident voice shot back. "You blame him for your lack of emotional growth, your failure to have children with Jean, the death of your friends, but you fail to look in the mirror and place any blame upon yourself."
Scott Summers, also known to the world as the X-Man Cyclops, waved the remarks off with a disgusted flick of his arm. "I led that team for him. If it wasn’t for myself and Storm, and even Logan to some small extent, the X-Men would’ve curled up and died a long time ago. But we couldn’t go anywhere with him. He’d leave, then return. We’d think him dead and move on, finding our own way, only to have him reappear and step back in as leader. He went nuts - remember Onslaught?"
"How can I forget?"
"So we pick up the pieces and move on, but he came back and when he did everything went right back to the way he thought things should’ve been run. The Dream became bigger than him and he couldn’t deal with it. He never could and he never will."
"Poor Scott and his precious X-Men should’ve moved out of Charles’ Mansion, then. His house, his rules."
"That doesn’t surprise me coming from you. You never could let go."
"Boys, boys, boys, at it again, are we?" The two men turned to look at the still shapely figure walking through the door.
"Hello, Karla," Scott said, trying to be courteous. "Or shall we call you Dr. Sofen in private. Or Moonstone? Meteorite? How about the Hulk’s punching bag?"
"Scoff all you like, Summers," Karla Sofen said confidently, "but there’s no way you’re getting to the White House without me."
"That’s why I hired you to save this campaign, Karla," Tony Stark, billionaire industrialist and once the Armored Avenger known as Iron Man charmed as he leaned in and kissed Sofen on the cheek. "We’re ten percentage points down with two months to go. We need you because you’re the only one who can get us to where we want to go." He paused, letting the drama build, "You’re going to make us two of the most influential people in the world. Behind every good man, as they say, and all that."
Sofen’s eyes lit up with the compliment. She truly loved playing the games of politics. "You two need to hit wardrobe and make-up. This is an important stop. Ever since the lost reserves of Skrull gold were discovered here in ’06, Alaska has become the wealthiest state in the union. We need to make a good impression so we can get as much of that money as we can."
"Why can’t Mr. World’s Most Eligible Bachelor here just foot the bill himself? God knows he can afford it."
"Why, Scott," Karla ribbed, "that would be breaking campaign finance laws. We can’t have anything illegal going on, can we? Or is there room for cheating inside your precious Dream?"
Defenders Sanctum Dimensionarium - Out of Time Dimension
"Well, Val, what do you make of this supposed Santa Claus?" Dane Whitman asked as the Defenders gathered around their meeting table. The Hulk had regressed back into Bruce Banner and Firebird kept a close eye on him.
"He’s never steered us wrong, Dane," Valkyrie answered. "In the Defenders past, we have come to identify certain consistencies in the way the Everything operates. The ‘crazy old man’ motif has appeared from time to time on our many journeys and even moreso with others. While he appears to be a rambling old fool, there is often great wisdom in his words - it is the Everything’s way of delivering omen’s to those who wish to heed It’s warnings."
"But, and Ah don’t mean to speak out of turn," Rogue questioned cautiously, "how do we know he isn’t just a crazy old man? How seriously should we take what he says?"
"I’m with the Southern Belle here," Lady Metal answered, still in her armored form. "Why listen to some wacked old fogey?"
"Because I said you should."
The Defenders turned towards the entering form of Dr. Stephen Strange, Master of the Mystic Arts. Time had not been kind to the Sorcerer Supreme. Lines marked his face, and his hair had whitened almost completely. Of all the people in this Cosmos who would care, Stephen Strange was almost alone in his awareness of the sense of dread that the Universe itself felt.
"Maybe that’s not good enough for me," Lady Metal responded.
"Then you can leave." With the wave of his hand, Lady Metal vanished. The Defenders looked on passively. They had grown accustomed to Dr. Strange’s growing impatience and knew that though his actions were sometimes unclear, his motives were always for the best of the Everything.
"What is our move, Doctor?" Valkyrie asked. "How grave is the old man’s cautionary tale?"
"That old man is older than he appears, yet not as old as he looks," Dr. Strange answered, not bothering to explain his statement, "but he can be trusted. There are forces that use him to deliver messages to us when our aid is needed."
"From what the others have told me," Dr. Banner began, "we have four puzzles to solve, three primary and one secondary. One, who is … er, Santa Claus referring to when he mentions, ‘the glory of the coming of the Lord’ and Two, why isn’t he happy?"
"Third," Firebird continued, "who’s death will bring about a great change?"
"A negative change, right?" Rogue asked.
"Aye," Valkyrie answered. "He said the person who shall die is the beginning of the end. That this person was ‘a dreamer, a person who believes in the goodness of others’ and that this person ‘will find nothing but Death.’ No other clue was given."
"The final matter would be what the old man thought was going on-"
"That is unimportant," Dr. Strange stated flatly. "That is his own quest, it has nothing to do with ours."
"Right then," the Black Knight sighed. "So who’s the Lord, why is he mad and who’s death do we have to prevent?"
"I do not know," Dr. Strange answered honestly. "His use of the word ‘Lord’ could mean a god, a demon, a religious leader or possibly just someone of vast power. The fact that he is angry leads me to believe that this Lord is either one given to villainous ways or a hero with a reason for vengeance."
"Horus, maybe?" Firebird asked. "Isn’t he the Egyptian god of vengeance? I’m not really up on … mythologies."
"There are plenty of possibilities that fit one or several of my categories: Shuma Gorath, Mephisto, Satannish, Furganth, Magneto, Dormammu, Loki, Odin, Zeus … the list is endless."
‘Then what about the person whose death will change everything?" Rogue asked as the Defenders pondered. "What about the Dreamer?"
The Xavier Institute for Advanced Learning - Westchester County, New York
Charles Xavier sat in his wheelchair, staring out at the beautiful grounds of his estate and cried softly to himself. His X-Men were out on one mission or another - he had stopped paying attention the day Cyclops and Jean Grey had left for good.
The fall air was crisp and it sent pins of sharpness into Xavier’s lungs when he breathed. It felt good, he thought, it reminded him that he was alive.
Tears rolled down his cheeks and he felt very, very old.
A hand came to rest on his shoulder. "I wondered when you’d come for me," Charles Xavier thought aloud as he reached a hand up to his shoulder to touch the skeletal hand of Death.
Death, for her part, said not a word.
Days of the Extinguishing Sun to be continued …
We Never Knew the Stories Were True.
We Never Knew the Stories Were True.
MBQ 9.October.1998
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