Page 110 of Cerulean Truth
Jackson took a deep breath. “After the Battle, all magi agreed not to expose ourselves just yet. That didn’t sit well with some survivors. Although most had their memories wiped, a few escaped without agreeing to keep our existence a secret. The Offensives of Cyclos had fought in the Battle to maintain the secret, as instructed by the Maumars, and when they returned, they promised us peace for the foreseeable future.”
Jackson paused.
“Fast forward thirty years later. James, Matthew and I were only Entry’s back then.”
“So, you were sixteen years old?” I confirmed.
Jackson nodded. “Yes. We were only sixteen when we started hearing whispers about exposing our kind to humans. Out of nowhere, movements were popping up all over the globe, declaring that exposure was the only way to live. Some of these movements were rather ‘motivated’. Before we knew it, fundamental groups began gathering in the Human World, translating things to reveal our existence. It was bad, Emma. Some just translated nearby so humans would notice, but others…” His voice trailed off, and I noticed a shiver run through him. “Let’s just say they had less pleasant ways of convincing humans of our existence.”
Jackson finished his drink and ordered a second. I joined him hastily, hanging on his every word.
“So what happened?” I whispered.
“There was no reasoning with these fundamentalists. You have to understand, the safety of our Collectives and the well-being of every magus and maga were being threatened.Immediate action was required. So, the Council of Cyclos took it upon themselves to ‘fix’ the situation.”
“How did they do that?” I asked, extremely intrigued.
Jackson shot me a pointed look. “They sent James in, of course.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
“James was the one they sent into take…necessary measures to end the situation.”
“As in, end them?”
“Yes.”
“All of them?”
“First, those in the US and South America. But James proved to be rather efficient, so they sent him to Asia as well, where the more ‘hardcore’ groups resided. The rest of the fundamentalists were eradicated by other Offensives.”
My gods.
“How many?” I almost didn’t dare to ask.
“There were forty-three groups in total, but I have no idea how many James was responsible for.”
I swallowed hard.
“Groups of how many magi?” I whispered.
“Again, I don’t have precise data, but back then, it was estimated each group consisted of an average of 500 fundamentals.”
I gasped and felt all the blood leave my face.
“James is a mass murderer.” It wasn’t a question. It was an assessment.
Jackson let out a snort. “James was never a poster boy for rules or obedience, but he had no trouble carrying out those orders. I often wondered if those killings allowed him to channel his anger and somehow ‘fixed’ his control over translation. Anyway, his success rate put him on the short-list for First Offensive.”
I had so many questions. So many uncertainties. But the big one was…
“I’m sorry, but how does a trained killer become the Leader of an entire Collective?” I asked first, my confusion evident.
“That’s actually a great question but again, not my story to tell,” Jackson replied, a smile playing on his lips.
Frowning, I asked, “Okay, so why are you telling me any of this?”
Jackson sighed. “Because you now fully understand why James has been a poster boy for the Council, publicly at least, and how they molded him into their perfect weapon. But since your arrival, he’s been... difficult. His rage has been...” Jackson’s voice trailed off.
