by Sean Davies
“The people accepted and moved aside for Glendrik to work his magic.
The young Book Wielder raised his arms to the heavens. The earth rumbled as the remnants of the Archmage structures were torn out of the ground and floated up into the air. Glendrik clapped his hands together and the rocks collided in a deafening bang. They fell to the ground as a rain of fine dust.
“Glendrik sat on the ground beside a pile of lumber and smiled. He offered to help the locals build their ‘town of Imperia’, but it would cost them more money… and more maidens.”
Connie exhaled loudly and the image faded away, leaving only blank worn paper.
“I didn’t know Book Wielders—or your books, rather—could see into the past!” Genevieve said, completely astonished. “That was the beginning of Imperia City!”
Connie caught her breath and took a long swig of champagne. “It’s not easy or well known, and you can only see little snippets. That was a memory of the Book Wielder Glendrik, or the memory of his book—I’m not sure.”
Genie leant across the table. “What else have you got, Connie Lee?” she asked eagerly.
Constance was weary from her last dip into the past, but Genevieve’s red eyes were lit up with wonder and she couldn’t bring herself to refuse. “Okay, let’s see…”
Connie once again focused her mind. She willed her book to show her the past, just like before, but this time she wanted something truly spectacular, something that would knock Genevieve off her feet in awe.
Her book responded with a tiny torrent of silver ink that swept across the pages like two waves of water. The small waves crashed together in the middle of the book and ebbed out calmly towards the edges where it faded away, showing a full colour image beneath.
Genie’s eyes went wide. “What the actual fuck?”
The Vampire Nightclaw was staring at the bridge of a cosy looking spaceship, complete with high-tech panels that had seen better days, holographic read-outs, and extremely-worn leather swivel chairs bolted to the metal floor. Standing in the centre, directly in front of the star-filled window, was a group of people with their arms around each other. It looked like they were posing for a photograph.
Genevieve could see that Constance was struggling to focus on her own work upside-down while maintaining control of the spell, so she described what she was seeing as quickly as she could for the Book Wielder’s sake. “There’s a life-like android woman with her arm around a hench guy; two young women standing back-to-back—they look Supernatural-ish; two guys holding hands—one looks like he’s dressed like a doctor; a super sexy but pissed-off looking babe in a black and purple bodysuit; an older woman carrying a small boy; and they’re beside a guy in a black duster and hat. He looks like a cross between a cowboy and a priest… oh, wait, I think he’s the Book Wielder!” Genie said, leaning in even closer. “He’s got a black book marked with a long gold cross in a circle, and a necklace with the same symbol. There’s some red writing forming again, but I can’t understand it. It doesn’t look like any language I’ve ever seen.”
Connie groaned an acknowledgement and tried to decipher the alien language by sensing the magical knowledge behind the strange letters. “Reunited. At last… but. Our real… fight. Is still ahead. Of us…” she stuttered, before losing control.
The image washed away as quickly as it had formed, and the two girls drained their nearest glasses of drinks and made a decent start on the next.
“How could that be the past?” Genie asked, keeping the picture alive in her mind. “That was like the future.”
Constance gulped down a sweet pink cocktail that tasted of strawberries and cream, and shook her head. “No idea, not a clue. Maybe it was the past, maybe it was another world—or dimension.”
Genevieve’s mind raced with ideas, possibilities, and questions, but knew that the Book Wielder was just as baffled and overwhelmed as she was. “I’ve got to say: confused as I am, that was the best damn party trick I’ve ever seen,” she said with a smile.
“Thanks,” Connie said, trying to hide her bashfulness.
The waiter walked out onto the balcony and brought their main courses to them. Constance was presented with a giant ploughman’s salad, which included thick slices of local cheeses, pork pies, savoury eggs and ham, and a toasted bun with different pots of garnish on the side. Constance, on the other hand, had a humongous triple cheese burger and a mountain of curly fries.
“Can you bring me a bottle of ketchup please?” Genevieve asked the waiter. “I never get enough out of these small pots.”
“Of course, miss,” the waiter sighed.
Genie could feel the weight of Connie’s critical gaze and commented before the young Book Wielder could. “What? It’s not like I can get fat—being a Vampire has its perks. On that note…”
Genevieve dug a silver tin out of her handbag, engraved with the same Nightmare Nettle image as the blue tattoo on the shaven side of her head, and pulled out a pre-rolled Dreamleaf joint and a small disposable lighter.
Constance couldn’t believe what she was seeing and stared disbelievingly as the Vampire tore off the twisted paper tip, lit up the joint, and took a long drag.
“Want some?” Genie offered, spilling fountains of sweet-smelling light blue smoke from her mouth in the process.
“No, I do not,” Connie said moodily. “It’s not even dark yet!”
“So? Dreamleaf isn’t illegal anymore. Not that it stopped me before,” Genevieve giggled, and shrugged. “As long as it’s consumed in moderate amounts, and outdoors or in a well-ventilated area,” she continued, quoting the globally agreed law letter-by-letter. “The other drugs are regulated a bit stricter but still acceptable at home or in bars, nightclubs, and brothels at the owner’s discretion.”
“I’m guessing you Shadow Circle remnants have a pretty loose definition of discretion?” Constance asked with a frown.
Genie suppressed the urge to giggle again as the hallucinogenic drug painted her perception of the disapproving Book Wielder bright red with little trails of steam coming out of her ears. “If you met my business partner Gregory, you’d understand just how rhetorical that question is. You should have some, it will lighten your mood.”
“No, thank you,” the Book Wielder replied sternly.
“Go on, Connie-girl,” Genevieve pressed playfully. “You’re a white-eyed—well, sort of—Book Wielder. You’re just as immortal as I am. Unless you’ve never tried it before?”
“I have, a couple of times,” Constance confessed. “At parties. Not at a fancy meal!”
“Chillax, grandma,” Genie said, stuffing a handful of fries into her mouth.
Connie didn’t reply; instead she coughed deliberately and repeatedly as she began attacking her salad. Genie couldn’t resist the temptation to annoy her, and made a point of blowing as much smoke in the Book Wielder’s direction as possible.
“Seriously, I don’t know why Veronica would try setting me up with a bad-girl like you…” Connie mumbled miserably to herself.
Genie burst into hysterical laughter.
“What? What’s so funny?!” the Book Wielder demanded.
Genevieve calmed herself long enough to reply, “If my Annabelle could hear you calling me the bad-girl, she’d literally wet herself laughing! Not that long ago, I was just like you!”
Constance eyed the half-drunk, half-stoned Vampire with disdain. The thought that in a matter of years she could be sitting in Genevieve’s place made her feel uneasy, and she went to say something offensive but caught herself before it was too late. Connie remembered the Vampire had previously mentioned that her friend and lover, Annabelle, had been killed under incredibly tragic circumstances. She even noticed a few tears running down Genie’s perfect face, and wondered if they were from Connie’s statement or the memory of her lover.
Constance picked a drink at random and downed it. As soon as it hit the back of her throat and subsequently burnt her stomach she regretted it, but she wanted an
extra hit of courage before satisfying her curiosity.
“How did you meet?” Connie hedged.
Genie wiped the tears from her eyes, taking a large mouthful of a swirling silver beverage and another long drag of Dreamleaf before answering. “Our parents lived next to each other—still do, actually—over in a town called Legentium on the west side of Rura. We were best friends from the beginning, and as we got older… things went beyond friendship. We never really spoke about it though and it drove me mad, so before our eighteenth birthday celebrations I blabbed my heart out and she told me she felt the same.” Genie paused and took a deep breath. “Then Anna left for work—dealing drugs for the Shadow Circle, which I didn’t know in my human days—and she never came back.”
“That’s terrible,” Constance said, putting her hand on her heart. “I’m so sorry.”
Genevieve opened her silver locket and leant all the way over the table to show Connie. Inside was a little picture of Genevieve with plain brown hair and normal brown eyes, and on the other side was Annabelle. She was radiantly beautiful, with long wavy blonde hair, but Connie could tell from the alluring look in her emerald green eyes that she was no angel.
“Wow, she’s gorgeous,” Connie said sadly.
“Yeah, she was,” Genie replied, returning to her seat. She took a massive, messy bite out of her burger before continuing. “We were going to write news articles and upload them onto Rura’s continental computer network—this was before the dealing, death, vampirism, Supernaturals, and gang warfare. Well, I was going to write them, putting my college literature studies to good use, and Anna was going to handle the photography and the tedious task of uploading them into that clunky old system.”
“That’s a really good idea,” Constance said, impressed by the unique idea. “Especially with the global network going up. You should still do it.”
Genie giggled. “I suppose Chloe could upload drawings instead of photos, but then she’d be on my tail for that all the time. It was bad enough with the book!”
“Dreamleaf Blues, wasn’t it?” Chloe asked. “The story of what happened…” She trailed off, unsure of how to proceed without causing offense, and picked up another drink. “I’ll have to grab a copy when it’s out.”
Genevieve chuckled awkwardly. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll give you a copy if you want, but I don’t think you’ll like it.”
“Why not?” Connie asked, frowning again.
“Chloe and Veronica convinced me to stick really close to the actual events, closer than I wanted to… it’s pretty dark in places, and dirty, like in the dungeon brothel.” Genie clapped her hand over her mouth, wishing she’d finished the sentence much sooner, and realised that the drink and drugs were really starting to kick in.
“Dungeon brothel?” Constance asked, very unimpressed.
“In Fort Dominia,” Genie explained, mentally kicking herself. “It’s been one of the Shadow Circle’s outposts for years. It was Golden Fang territory before I helped the Circle and Trinity take them down,” she added, hoping the history would get her off the hook.
Connie wasn’t so easily swayed. “Dungeon brothel?” she repeated.
“Uh huh,” Genie confessed. “It’s got a club and a bunch of bars too. Not to mention an excellent defensive position… they do really good food. Not fancy like your ploughman’s salad, though—are they fresh cucumbers and peppers, you think?” she asked hastily, knocking back a mouthful of wine straight from the bottle.
“So with everything going on, you slept with prostitutes?” Constance asked critically. She wanted to be sympathetic, but she couldn’t get her head around it.
“Yes, I did,” Genie said, trying to keep the anger out of her tone. She wasn’t sure if it was the narcotics or not, but the Book Wielder was beginning to grow on her; when she wasn’t frowning, at least. “You don’t know what it was like, though. My head was all over the place, and at one point I just gave up completely. It was only by chance, or Fate I guess, that Jonathan Knight—who’s now married to the Lord Imperator—got me to talk to the Shadow Circle. That’s how I met Veronica and the others, and eventually discovered the truth about what the Golden Fangs had done.”
“Next you’ll be telling me that you screwed more than one at a time,” the Book Wielder scoffed.
Genevieve played with her blue hair awkwardly and left far too long a pause.
Constance’s jaw dropped. “You didn’t!”
“Sometimes,” Genie replied with a pained smile. “But they were, are, like my friends too. We used to party hard, and then stuff just sort of happened. I dated Tanesha for a while—she’s a confident, slender, and wild Vampire,” Genie blabbed on to fill the icy silence, “but she was in love with Varsara, a black Werewolf babe—like Lady Cherriesa, but with bushy hair and not a bitch—so I moved aside. Then I was with Kaylie for a couple of years, a curvy brunette Mage who’s as sweet as she is sexy, but it wasn’t really going anywhere.”
“Gee, I wonder why?” the Book Wielder said sarcastically, knocking back yet more booze and picking at a slice of pork pie.
“They’re all high-ups in the Shadow Circle now,” Genevieve said, extinguishing the stub of her Dreamleaf joint in a glass ashtray. “It’s pretty cool that none of it effected our friendship.”
“Well, at least you haven’t slept with the Empress,” Constance grumbled, aggressively crunching on a slice of yellow pepper.
Genie averted her eyes, cursing her luck.
“No fucking way. Seriously?!” Connie groaned. “Veronica too?!”
“Only a couple of times,” Genevieve replied defensively. It felt as though all her bad history had been dredged up in one hit. “And it was before Winston came along.”
The Book Wielder looked down at her plate and silently engrossed herself in her food, but her stomach twisted with jealousy, although she put the feelings solely down to the alcohol messing with her perception.
“It was really weird though,” Genevieve continued, more for her own benefit than Connie’s. “Even when I was dating Tanesha and Kaylie. Like, it was always so good when the drink and drugs were flowing, and the sex was amazing, but in the morning I’d wake up naked next to a friend, not a lover. I always thought that’s how me and Annabelle were for years, but looking back it was so obvious we were both in love with each other.”
Constance mused over all the information, swirling another glass of champagne in her hand. She couldn’t begin to understand what the Vampire Nightclaw had gone through, and she felt terrible that it had all happened to her, but she couldn’t feel okay with what she’d heard. Connie had felt confident, cheeky, and quite reckless at times amongst her friends in the Tropican Military Forces, especially late into their nights out, but compared to Genevieve and most of the Supernaturals on Central Isle, she was a sheltered saint.
The new member of the Conclave pondered again as to why the Bloodmage had pushed them together in the first place. She and Genie had some common interests and could get on well for a minute or two, but ultimately clashed violently. Constance also couldn’t imagine anyone ever holding a candle to Annabelle in Genevieve’s heart.
Then, a mystifyingly troubling thought entered Connie’s head. “Did Veronica predict that you’d become a member of the Shadow Circle when you first met?”
“Yeah, dead on,” Genevieve said, performing a sloppy attempt at a finger-gun gesture, and happy for a break in the silence. “Her instincts are pretty damn sharp.”
“Huh, is that so?” Constance muttered, wondering if the busty Bloodmage had seen them together with her foresight, and if she would actually end up with Genevieve in the long run. The chain of thought reminded her of Azalea’s foreboding visions, and Connie decided drunkenly that she was done dealing with destiny.
“Oh, except for Archmage dick-for-brains,” Genevieve laughed tipsily at her own insult. “She knew that Omniosis was up to no good in her heart, but her head told her to go along with it, and that’s what she told Winsto
n too. Although the merger was part of Fate’s plan, so I suppose it had to go down like that. I wasn’t happy about any of it, though. I never imagined that I’d be part of an organised crime gang, let alone an army trying to rule the world. Hostile takeovers are one thing, but global domination… I even missed Veronica and Winston’s wedding because I was put on duty, in case the rebels struck while the Capital was busy! I’m not missing their vow renewals here on the isle… if it ever happens now,” she chatted on, slurring slightly.
“If you were so against Omniosis, why did you go along with it all?” Connie asked, coming out of her shell again.
“If it wasn’t for Veronica and the others in the Shadow Circle, I don’t think I would’ve made it through the loss of Annabelle and all of the Golden Fangs’ bullshit,” Genie said earnestly. “So when the orders came through, I followed them. It really sucked being on the opposite side to Jonathan and Chloe, I was worried about them every day, but I had people to protect on my end too, people who needed me. It was a horrid situation to be in. I tried to play it all out defensively, but then I had a regular stream of orders from Lewis Thorne in Imperia City when he caught on, and you could only put off the Archmage for so long before being branded a problem.”
“Lewis—as in Winston’s old friend?” Connie asked before popping a bit of strong cheese into her mouth.
Genie nodded. “Yup, but at that point the poor fuck wasn’t really Lewis anymore. Not that I really knew him much before then. Chloe had told me about him, though—she had a major crush on him when he was in the Trinity of Old,” she whispered unnecessarily. “He didn’t match the description at all, but I just thought he must have changed after he joined the Circle. You know what they say about absolute power.”
“It’s all so tragic,” Constance replied, shaking her head.
“Uh huh. So if you discover a spell in that book of yours that brings people back from the dead, put Lewis Thorne at the top of the list for Winston and Chloe’s sakes, and then bring back Annabelle for me,” Genevieve joked.