by Sean Davies
Alice forced herself to fight away the imposing sense of dread to look upwards, knowing that she wouldn’t like what she saw.
The unbroken landscape of pristine white was quickly being replaced by a bubbling sea of thick orange fluid that seemed to be spreading out of the black seams lining the edges of the walls. It was beginning to drip down the walls and fall from the ceiling in clumps, especially towards the portal junction where Corriztis was preparing to depart; Alice knew the poison wasn’t intended to kill them, but to drive them away for another day.
“Goodbye. I’ll be seeing you very, very soon—under more beneficial circumstances for me, of course,” the hooded Demon host waved as he made for the nearest portal. “Try not to damage that lovely body of yours on the way out. It’s so very vital to my work!”
The stoic Lord Imperator fired her pistol wildly, sending bright blue bolts of plasma energy down the bubbling and slithering hallway. Suddenly, a tide of orange slime came crashing down, blocking the junction room from view and rolling slowly towards the two women, and it devoured the plasma bolts as though they had never been fired.
Chloe and Alice turned tail and sprinted down the corridor as more of the foul corrosive sludge dropped behind them, adding to the relentless wave charging at them. The Lord Imperator slowed her pace to match Chloe’s (who wasn’t as nimble and lacked motion-assisted power armour), eventually just scooping the girl up in her arms for the last length of the mad dash towards the exit. They flew out of the portal and back into the stone room beneath Central Isle’s northern shore.
The portal’s frame was lit up with a bizarre mix of colours, and Alice and Chloe could see a pool of the acidic chemicals forming around the interstice where it was already eating away at the featureless stone floor.
“Get back!” Alice ordered her Justiciars as she set Chloe down.
The troopers ran for the entrance of the room as the Lord Imperator charged forward, brandishing her Spell-forged steel war hammer.
The first wave of slime spilled into the room and Alice slammed her hammer into the ancient gold archway, denting it and causing powerful magical lightning to crackle through the rest of the structure. The portal shut down, but Alice gave it several more whacks and wallops to sate her boiling rage before finally relenting.
A large crater formed where the corrosive ooze had managed to escape, and it continued to eat away at the rock until Chloe finally froze it solid.
“Fucking Demon,” Alice grumbled miserably as she surveyed the excessive damage, and mourned the loss of her lead into Corriztis’ private portal network. She was back to square one.
“My sentiments exactly, ma’am,” Chloe panted, still trying to catch her breath. “My sentiments exactly.”
✽ ✽ ✽
Genevieve Jameson sat opposite Constance Lee at the Endless Overlook restaurant, gazing over her shoulder at the calm sea that seemed to stretch on forever, and tapping her blue fingernails against the white tablecloth as she waited for her food.
“Do you mind?” Connie asked irritably.
Genie stopped moving her fingers but continued to stare in the opposite direction. Thanks to her enhanced vampiric vision, she could make out the outline of several platforms and battleships on the horizon in the direction that would eventually lead to Rura; they would be working on installing the globally linked computer network that had been the brainchild of the late Autocrat Edgar Aurelius II. Genevieve saw tendrils and fins rising and falling beneath the lazy waves, and didn’t envy the work crews in the slightest. The thought of laying reinforced pipelines so deep in the ocean, around so much unknown life, gave her the shivers.
The day was drawing to a close, and the white clouds in the purple and blue sky were turning a shade of soft orange as the sun set. The sea breeze was cool and refreshing, and squadrons of seagulls and their larger, magical counterparts cawed slowly as they glided overhead, casually heading for their nests.
“They’re not coming, are they?” Constance asked with a voice full of dread.
“Nope,” Genie replied with a shrug, before turning to face Veronica’s latest matchmaking victim.
The Endless Overlook was a small but classy restaurant including half a dozen five-star hotel rooms, and was built on the edge of a protruding cliff on the north side of Central Isle, half of which rested atop a thick platform with sturdy supports that plummeted into the rolling waves below. The main building was a modern two-storey rectangle with wide tinted windows and featured a large balcony on the first floor that ran around three of the building’s four sides, in addition to roof seating for those who truly wanted a magnificent view of the surrounding sea, dark grassy plains, the nearby port town of Eonaria, and its neighbouring village of Galorthena.
Genevieve enjoyed the fact that the outlying provinces of Central Isle had been named by the citizens of the towns and villages themselves, and as such there were some truly eccentric names that reminded her of locations in the fantasy novels and role-playing games she enjoyed so much.
Despite Genie’s clear reluctance, Veronica had forced her into a tight white cocktail dress for the night out, claiming that she’d stand out like a sore thumb in casual wear, especially as Constance was looking so ‘ravishing’ in her little black dress. The curvaceous, interfering Vampire Bloodmage had also handled Genevieve’s make-up, which she hadn’t minded as Veronica was as good as any professional, but it had stirred up sorrowful memories of when her best-friend and unofficial lover Annabelle had done the same. Genevieve knew that her beloved Annabelle would’ve got on with Veronica like a house on fire, as they both had the same infuriatingly confident, overly flirtatious yet extremely lovable personas, along with looks that made hell look cold in comparison.
Veronica had responded to her thoughts of Anna in a soft tone. “She would have wanted you to move on, Genie-girl.”
Genevieve had mumbled an acknowledgement, knowing that her friend was right, but it was easier said than done. Genie had tried to move on several times over the years, but no one could ever truly fill the void in her heart that Annabelle’s untimely death had created.
Veronica had left to get herself ready (or so she’d claimed), leaving Genie in her reserved Conclave room. In reality, the beautiful Bloodmage had most likely gone to steal Stitches away. When Genevieve had arrived at the front of the Conclave Amphitheatre, a smart driver in a silver open-topped sports car was waiting patiently, along with a very lost looking Connie standing beside the front triple-fountain feature. Genevieve wasn’t shocked in the slightest and would have been more surprised to see Veronica there, but the Book Wielder hadn’t quite caught up. The driver had told them that Veronica was showing Stitches the Alchemy labs, and that they would join them at the Endless Overlook later.
The drive to the Endless Overlook had been awkward but brief, and both girls had spent it looking in opposite directions from one another. Genevieve really had nothing against Constance despite their rocky introduction, but she wasn’t in the mood to be meddled with and she hated not feeling in control of her own destiny; a sensation that seemed to occur a lot in her flirty friend’s presence.
Their chauffeur had pulled up to the front of the restaurant instead of parking the silver sports car, and left the engine running. He had informed them both that drinks were on Veronica and that they should go ahead and order appetisers.
They had been greeted warmly inside and guided to a table for four on the first-floor balcony, overlooking the ocean vista at the rear of the restaurant.
Constance played with the impaled olives within her martini and then took a small sip. “Why would she have gone to so much effort to—”
“To set us up,” Genevieve interrupted in a matter-of-fact tone. “Veronica thinks she’s doing us both a favour.”
“I know that, I’m not stupid,” Constance snapped. “What I meant was this seems a bit… much. She could have sent us to the cinema or something, surely?”
Genie chuckled. “This is light for
V’s standards, believe me. The first time we met was in the Praetor’s Pride restaurant in Imperia City. Her and the rest of the Shadow Circle’s Primary Book Wielder guard used to eat there on a regular basis.”
“The Praetor’s Pride? Regularly?!” Connie gasped. “I knew the old organised crime trade raked in the money, but not that much!”
“Yep, crime certainly did pay,” Genie nodded, and took a sip of her blood-spiked red wine. “Well, before the Archmage Omniosis came along and fucked everything up,” she added bitterly.
Constance grimaced. “At least everything worked out okay in the end, I suppose.”
“Not well enough,” Genie said icily, thumbing towards the Shadow Circle tattoo on her left shoulder.
A young waiter approached the table, expertly balancing a silver tray holding their starters, and spoke in a dignified tone. “One serving of watercress & celeriac soup with goat’s cheese croutons…”
“That’s for me,” Constance said. She was looking forward to trying fresh food that had been sourced from ingredients on Central Isle.
“And one plate of cheesy nachos, with hot Desem peppers,” the waiter continued, struggling to keep the criticism out of his voice.
“Thank you.” Genevieve smirked slyly as she was presented with her appetiser. “I hope it wasn’t too hard to fix up?”
“Not at all,” the waiter replied patronisingly. “Mrs. Reynolds called ahead and informed us that you prefer less civilised cuisine. She also asked us to present you with this…” He produced a small envelope and passed it to Genevieve.
Genie rolled her eyes and opened it to find a letter, which she’d been expecting, but to her surprise there was also a key card.
“What does it say?” Connie sighed as she watched in trepidation.
“Hey sweeties,” Genevieve began in a mocking parody of Veronica’s voice. “Blah, blah, excuses, excuses… dinner’s on me and so is the hotel room. P.S. please don’t hate me, etc. etc. You know that I know these things… crap about Fate, and so on.” Genie put the note down and grinned at the waiter. “Can we have the drinks menus again please? Our order is going to increase significantly.”
“Certainly, Miss. Jameson,” the waiter replied with a curt nod.
“Won’t she be annoyed if you go too overboard?” Connie asked, concerned.
Genevieve shrugged. “V will be expecting it. Besides, it’s not like she has to worry about money.”
Constance looked down at her glass hesitantly.
Genie caught the worried look in Connie’s alluringly shaped pearl-tinted white eyes and grinned. “Think of it like payback. She tried setting us up and now she’s going to pay us back in booze. Personally, I plan on making her pay big-time.”
Connie swished the martini around a bit and then downed the remainder in one go. The more she thought about it, the more Constance realised how annoyed she was that her first day had been derailed so much, and about the fact that someone had turned the end half of it into a surprise date that neither her nor Genevieve had wanted.
“Good choice,” Genie said, raising her glass in a fake toast.
Constance began to sip her soup and appreciated the fine taste. However, her culinary experience was ruined by the constant crunching escaping from Genevieve’s mouth, and Connie began slurping her watercress soup louder in retaliation. Genie noticed what Connie was doing and started to chomp harder, and soon both the Book Wielder and the Vampire Nightclaw were engaged in a battle of who could create the most din from eating alone. Constance lifted her bowl to her mouth and took a massive swig of soup, leaving a line of green liquid above her top lip like a moustache. Genie burst into hysterical laughter, sending a shower of crumbs across the table.
“Eww, sick!” Connie exclaimed, shielding herself with her arm. “What’s so funny?!” She felt her face out of paranoia and when her fingers touched her soup moustache, she quickly wiped it away on a napkin and went red with rage and embarrassment.
“What are we doing?” Genie asked as she tried to force away the giggles.
“I don’t know,” Constance sighed.
“Let’s try again. It’s not you I’m mad at—it’s that bloody Veronica,” Genevieve chuckled, and extended her hand across the table. “I’m Genevieve Jameson, most people call me Genie for short,” she said, reintroducing herself and shaking Connie’s hand.
“Constance Lee,” the Book Wielder said with a slight smile, “or just Connie for short.”
The girls went back to their starters, eating in a far more dignified manner than before, and when the waiter reappeared they ordered their mains along with enough drinks to kill an elephant.
“So…” Genie began after their appetiser plates had been cleared and replaced with a myriad of beverages. “What did you do before you found your book?”
“I was studying history,” Constance began.
“And you packed it in when you found out it was all lies, half-truths, and conspiracies?” Genie guessed.
“Yeah, something like that,” Constance replied warmly. “Besides, I got pretty obsessed with studying my book,” she added, gesturing to her eyes.
Genevieve found that she was focusing more on their beautiful shape, and the way the Book Wielder’s eyeliner complimented them, than the actual colour. “Have you ever thought about going back to it someday?” she asked, stirring a neon-blue steaming cocktail. “You know, like figuring out what really happened?”
Constance thought about it for a moment, taking a sip of the restaurants’ most expensive champagne before answering. “Maybe one day down the line. If I did, I’d focus on the bit we know the least about; the years that followed the Twin Archmage’s handiwork.”
“The period of time after the magic was removed from the world?” Genevieve asked, genuinely interested. “When the Archmages were sucked into what would become the Gloom? Well, the ones that didn’t cling on and split into the first Feral Supernaturals…”
Constance raised her eyebrows; she was shocked that Genie would take an interest in such matters.
“Don’t judge a Supernatural by their cover,” Genevieve said with a wink.
“You can’t read my thoughts, can you?!” Connie asked in embarrassed terror, preparing to raise her magical defences.
The Vampire Nightclaw laughed, while also wondering what the Book Wielder was worried about revealing. “No, don’t worry, I could just tell from the look on your face. Veronica tried to teach me some Bloodmage talents, but I just don’t have the knack for it. Maybe I’ll try again in a decade or two. Anyway, you were talking about history,” Genie added politely.
“Oh, right, cool,” Connie stammered in a relieved tone. The alcohol was going to her head quickly, and she’d broken her cardinal rule about not mixing drinks, so her thoughts and eyes had begun to appreciate the blue-haired Vampire’s cocktail dress along with the fine figure beneath it. “Well, it just fascinates me that after the dust had settled, our ancestors were suddenly rid of their oppressors and free to start the foundation of our civilization. I’d love to know what it was like, going from a magical society back to the basics, but so much history has been lost. We know that some information made it through the test of time—it became the basis for many myths and legends, not to mention the Church of the Twin Goddesses—so maybe there’s more info out there somewhere?”
“I’ve never really thought much about that time to be honest, only the recorded history that followed,” Genie replied. She liked the way Connie came to life when she was inspired, and it reminded her a lot of the way Chloe looked when she was engrossed in her artwork. “I guess it was harder for them to adapt to the absence of magic than it has been for us lot to deal with its resurgence.”
“Resurgence—I like that word,” Connie said appreciatively. “I found something interesting in my book, let me show you.”
The Book Wielder took her tiny black book out of her handbag and willed it to grow to its normal size.
“That’s a cool emblem,�
�� Genevieve said, taking note of the sea serpent crest. “My Spell-forged steel Katana has a similar design on its Saya—its sheath. I should’ve brought it, I always forget that I don’t have to hide it in public these days.”
“Wow, I’d love to see it sometime,” Constance said, opening her book down the middle and turning it towards Genie. “There’s not many normal Katanas about, let alone Spell-forged ones. Where did you get it?”
“It was a gift from my mentor Gaius,” Genie said broodily. “Something to buy my trust and keep me from seeing what was right in front of me all along.”
“Did you cut him in half too?” Constance joked.
“No, I blew him up,” Genevieve replied in monotone, deadly serious.
“Oh… kay…” Connie sighed awkwardly. “Take a look at this,” she added as she pointed towards the old pages of her tome, eager to steer the conversation elsewhere.
Lines of black ink appeared at the edges of the pages and raced inwards, darting left and right in crazy erratic movements. At first Genevieve thought the magical lines were all travelling completely at random, but soon she noticed the ink was creating a sketch of a Book Wielder, standing beside a group of people in tatty unrecognisable clothing, next to a large pile of rocks that looked like Archmage ruins.
“Is that… the past?” Genie gasped.
Constance nodded but stayed silent, concentrating further and clenching her fists tightly. Her face became visibly strained as more ink, this time red, formed legible writing over the black and white image, and Genevieve quickly read the simple sentences out loud.
“The young Book Wielder Glendrik asked the locals what they were doing.
The fiery and proud populace told him that they were destroying all signs of their former masters, including the stonework.
“The cheeky Book Wielder offered them a trade; he would destroy the old Archmage buildings for them in exchange for their hospitality, a bag of coins, and the love of a fair maiden.