Mydia's End

by Sean Davies

  Without thinking, Genevieve embraced her former lover and kissed her like there was no tomorrow, before Annabelle pinched one of her nipples viciously.

  “Ouch!” Genie shrieked. “What was that for?!”

  “Hmm, I don’t know…” Annabelle hummed, pretending to be lost in thought. “Oh, wait, that was it—for following me into the criminal underworld, getting turned into a Vampire, dancing with death, like, all the bloody time?”

  “It wasn’t like I promised,” Genie grumbled, rubbing her breast.

  “I thought it would go without saying, missy,” Annabelle said in a no-nonsense tone, before twisting Genevieve’s other nipple.

  “Fuck!” Genie yelped. “What now?!”

  “That one is ‘cos you’re taken, and your big-booty babe of a girlfriend just watched you snogging your ex!” Anna admonished with her hands on her hips.

  Genevieve pulled a guilty face, realising what she’d done. “I… well, is it technically cheating if you’re a ghost?” she asked meekly, covering her breasts in preparation for another attack.

  Annabelle shook her head and laughed. “You have gotten bad, Genie-Jay!”

  “I blame Veronica Reynolds’ influence. She’s like your twin sister.” Genevieve chuckled.

  “Isn’t she just? I’m glad you’ve got some bad influences in your life,” Annabelle smirked. “But in all seriousness, I’m truly glad you’re okay—and that you kept up with your writing! Oh, and thank you for telling my parents about what happened. I’d hate to think they were still waiting for me to come back.”

  “You know all that?” Genevieve asked in surprise.

  “We drift nearby sometimes… it’s hard to explain,” Anna pondered, trying to put it into words before quickly giving up. “It’s something you have to experience for yourself—not that you will for a very, very long time,” she added, poking Genie repeatedly on the nose.

  “Sorry to interrupt, Genie and Miss Ghost,” Stitches said awkwardly, approaching them. “I was wondering if either of you had seen Quoronastra’s spirit?”

  “Aren’t you just the sweetest?” Anna beamed. “I’m Annabelle, and you’re an Alternative, right?”

  Stitches nodded, and waited patiently for his question to be answered.

  “That’s so cool… living puppets, living on Mydia!” Anna said dreamily, before realising she’d brushed over his enquiry. “Sorry—your friend passed away recently, right?”

  “Yes, not too long ago,” Stitches answered.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, sweetie, but it takes a little while to get used to the… change,” Annabelle answered delicately. “I desperately tried to talk to Genie-girl once, I didn’t even truly know I was gone.”

  “That’s okay,” Stitches sighed in defeat. “Thank you, anyway.”

  “Aww, I really am sorry, puppet-dude,” Annabelle said, feeling awful for the Alt. She pursed her lips and looked like she was about to say something, but quickly stopped herself from uttering a single word.

  The Alternative offered up a polite smile and walked away.

  “What were you going to say?” Genevieve pressed, knowing that there was something she was hiding.

  “Sorry, Genie-girl, if I explain it might throw things off,” the gorgeous blonde apologised. “What do you call it? Fate crap?”

  “Yep…” the blue-haired Vampire groaned.

  “Well, don’t think about it. I’d better be off, and so should you,” Anna advised.

  Genevieve began to cry, and she reached out and grabbed Annabelle’s arm. “I don’t want you to go,” she sobbed. “We never even… we never…”

  Annabelle hugged the Vampire Nightclaw tightly. “We did, Genie-girl. We might’ve danced around making it official, but we always loved each other. Deep down, we both knew it, even if we never said it like that until the end.” She rubbed the tears from Genevieve’s pale face before continuing. “We had a lifetime together as friends, and a good—well, naughty few wild years as party-animal lovers.”

  Genevieve nodded, knowing that Anna’s words rang true, but still felt it difficult to let go. “This is yours,” she finally said after the long embrace, and unclipped the heart-shaped silver locket from her elegant neck before putting it around Annabelle’s.

  “You got it back!” the angelic blonde gasped. “If I wasn’t so happy, I’d twist your nips clean off for taking on an entire gang for my sake!” she added in a mix of elation and disapproval.

  “You’d have done the same,” Genie challenged with a smirk on her face.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right, Genie-girl,” Annabelle conceded chirpily. “Now, go and live your life to the fullest. Your sexy Tropican sweetheart is waiting for you.”

  “I will,” Genie grinned.

  Annabelle put her hands on her hips, a wry smile on her face. “Promise me, Genevieve Jameson.”

  “I promise, Annabelle Jones. And best friends keep their promises.”

  “Good. And make sure Little Miss Connie-Lee remembers what I said to her in my bedroom, and that I’ll haunt her for all eternity if she ever breaks your heart!” Annabelle yelled, loud enough for Constance to hear.

  The Book Wielder reluctantly turned away from her grandparents to give the beautiful blonde apparition an incredibly awkward thumbs-up, acknowledging what Annabelle had said.

  Annabelle blew Genevieve a series of kisses as she faded away, and the Vampire Nightclaw did the same.

  Everyone said their goodbyes to their ghostly loved ones, and one by one they met with Genevieve beside the extremely out-of-place golden doors.

  “Not only am I going to carry on adventuring—I’m going to marry Emileelee, the Needle Maiden prostitute!” he yelled gleefully to his disapproving dead family members. “And I’m not even gonna try and make her stop, I like watching her fuck other people! She’s a freaky and kinky, and I love her for it, so meh!” he taunted, pulling various childish faces as his snooty relatives faded.

  “You good, man?” Leanne asked, her lips wobbling as she tried not to cry with laughter at his display.

  “Better than ever,” Ricardo replied, composing himself while taking some deep breaths to calm down.

  “I’m sorry—about the whole Anna-thing,” Genevieve apologised to Constance.

  “It’s fine,” Connie replied, trying to keep the ice out of her tone. “It’s not every day the ghost of your ex shows up.”

  “Thank fuck,” Peter Zelphinas sighed in relief. “All my exes are nuts.”

  “They’d have to be nuts to date you in the first place, Petey,” Charlotte teased.

  “Actually, that’s a fair point, Char-Char,” he agreed with a laugh.

  They all eventually fell silent, and Constance gingerly touched the doors, her touch causing them to open out into a ginormous spherical chamber lined with pipes, chugging pistons, and spinning gears. A small solitary bridge, suspended above large rotating mechanisms, led to a walkway around a solid golden sphere.

  Connie grunted and rubbed her temples. “It’s in there, in the giant sphere. I can hear it screaming.”

  “I’ve got you. This will all be over soon,” Genevieve said reassuringly, as she helped the Book Wielder into the Creator’s Mantle.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The Conclave of Nations had dragged on much longer than Winston had been expecting, and had soon transformed into a massive question and answer session after he had brought the delegates up to speed on Mydia's condition and the existence of the Creator.

  Thankfully, Alexander had been quick to answer with the facts and theories he and Quoronastra had scooped together from the deciphered ancient Archmage texts.

  The news had been received with an erratic mixture of fascination and fear, but after dealing with the revelation of the Supernaturals’ existence and witnessing the planet’s restoration to a magical state (not to mention the strange former Gloom-dwellers), most of the world's delegates had grown somewhat desensitised to what once would've been considered ludicrous fantasy. Eventu
ally, all parties had agreed on the best way to pass on the information of Mydia's origins and the pressing dangers to their citizens, and drafted plans to increase security and send patrols to scout for and destroy the Creator's energy-draining spires. As Winston had assumed, the Alternatives were ready and willing to get their teeth stuck into some authorised destruction.

  Through the gathered information from the delegates around the world, everyone had concluded that the ground tremors had increased but the energy surges and ghost sightings had diminished, leading them to believe that the Creator was done testing its output and was purely focused on completing its lethal, world-renewing work.

  Winston had left Chloe O'Kelly and Alexander in charge of the Conclave, while Alice Eve had delegated her responsibilities to the ever-trustworthy General Stein, before she’d proceeded to Tropica through the Catacombs along with Veronica and a host of skilled Book Wielders. As Cherriesa was exceedingly satisfied with her haul of high-tech goodies from the Conclave and Justiciar stores, she turned a blind eye to her usual (deliberately stringent) security measures.

  The sun had almost set by the time they'd emerged in Tropica City, and it hadn't taken anyone long to notice that the twin moons were slowly drifting out of their normal orbit. They had quickly met up with Azalea and received their hastily finished long-ranged airship, the Mana Du Vortes, which the glamourous Queen of Tropica had assured them met the minimal safety requirements despite its rickety appearance.

  They had arrived on the opposite side of Mydia quickly and in one piece, making it across the planet just in time to witness the second sunrise of their day.

  They radioed the Aeria Gloris to confirm that Constance and the team had made it inside okay and that it was safe to approach, before closing in on the ancient pillar.

  Everyone on-board either stared in wonder at the huge structure propping up out of the endless ocean, or looked on fearfully at the twin moons that were drifting into the centre of the purple and blue sky.

  The Mana Du Vortes landed atop the pillar’s flat circular roof, and Winston, Alice, Veronica, and the others spread out once they had evacuated the airship. Some Book Wielders risked nearing the edge so they could wave at the crew of the Aeria Gloris on the overhanging ledge far below, until Winston called them over.

  “This is going to be a struggle,” Winston announced to the group, “I'm not going to lie. This could potentially be the end for all of us, but if we fail, everyone and everything we know and love will likely be scrubbed from existence. So give it your all—not only for your own skin, but for the whole of Mydia!”

  “So, to reiterate: don't die, and save the world!” Veronica added cheekily.

  Alice pointed up at the sky. “I think we’d better get ready.”

  The twin moons had started to grow humongous glowing crystalline spires on their surface, blossoming outwards until they resembled two giant diamond flowers that dominated the front of each moon.

  Winston held his wife's hand. “This is it...”

  Veronica leaned in for a kiss. “We've got this,” she said confidently.

  Alice nodded, feeling sad that she didn't have Jonathan by her side, but she was unwilling to let it be the end for either of them. “For Mydia!” she roared.

  The call was echoed by all those on the pillar's roof, as the crystal structures on the moons above fired beams of pure white light down towards the access shaft.

  Everyone grunted as the overwhelming energy collided with their joint barrier, and many Book Wielders soon found themselves too weak to stand, continuing to add their strength to the shield from the floor.

  Alice attempted to absorb the moons' power using her unique ability, and for a few seconds she felt invincible; however, the combined beams of light were so intense she soon felt like her body was on fire, and she was forced to just add to the regular barrier. The Lord Imperator reminded herself to take up Chloe’s offer to train together as her body and mind weakened, and she began to wish that the crazy and courageous ginger Book Wielder had stowed away on the Mana Du Vortes after all.

  Streaks of deflected energy smashed into the ocean around the pillar, causing huge blasts of boiling water and giant spouts of steam to rise, soon obscuring the pillar entrance and roof high above in a hot cloud of mist.

  After a few painful minutes, everyone besides Alice and Winston were well and truly spent, and luckily the moons halted their efforts; the enormous crystal structures on their surfaces remained, however.

  “Did we stop them?” Veronica asked groggily.

  “For now,” Alice groaned as she reached for a potion case.

  Winston also went for the Alchemy supplies, quickly knocking back three energy potions before passing more out to others, along with the Lord Imperator.

  Veronica glugged hers, and then drained a flask of blood she had stashed deep within her draw-dropping cleavage. “Let's hope Connie-Lee gets her sweet arse in gear.”

  “Not the words I would've used, but yes, let's hope she does,” Alice said dryly, looking up towards the heavens with trepidation.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  At the heart of Mydia, inside the Creator's Mantle, the expedition team slowly walked across the bridge that would take them to the planet's maker.

  “This is... just incredible,” Ricardo breathed, totally captivated by the artificial core, and also fervently hoping that everyone’s button cameras were still working.

  “Just look at it all,” Stitches said softly, studying every facet of the ginormous room intently, not wanting to overlook a single gear.

  “It feels like we’re inside a giant clock,” Charlotte remarked.

  “Or engine room.” Leanne added.

  Peter nodded. “Or a very weird spaceship.”

  Constance’s eyes glazed over as soon as they were beside the massive golden sphere that housed the Creator, and she placed her hand on the sleek metal surface.

  “Connie? Are the headaches getting worse?” Genevieve asked in a concerned tone.

  The Book Wielder shook her head. “No—it's calmed down. It senses that it needs me, but it's also worried we’re a threat.”

  “I wonder if holo-bitch tipped it off before she fried her circuits,” Genie theorised.

  Suddenly, the room around Constance melted away and she was floating in space, looking down at Mydia and its twin moons.

  “It's showing me something,” Connie said distantly.

  “The Creator?!” Genie asked.

  “No... Fate,” Constance replied, surprising herself. She watched the events in her mind unfolding before snapping back to reality, and retracted her hand from the smooth golden surface of the Creator's housing.

  “What did you see?!” Stitches asked enthusiastically.

  “What's happening to the planet, and what will happen unless I stop it,” Constance replied, rubbing her eyes blearily.

  “Care to elaborate a smidge, baby doll?” Ricardo asked, burning with anxious curiosity.

  The Tropican Book Wielder took a deep breath, trying to summon the words. “The Creator is desperately trying to get more power, and its sending more and more spires to the surface to collect it, but the guys above are fighting back—the Alts especially, since its contraptions can't handle Gloom magic. Winston, Alice, and some others are above us, or they're going to be—time is too disjointed down here to tell. Either way, they'll stop the remnants of the Creator's brethren, the Ascendants of Light and Darkness, from sending more energy. That might all sound good, but the Creator needs the energy and the spires to complete the reset.”

  “But we don't want the planet to be reset, right?” Leanne remarked, confused.

  “No, but the Creator's still going to try,” Constance replied gravely. “And when it does—and fails—it's going to tear Mydia to shreds.”

  “Shit… but you can stop it, right?” Charlotte asked.

  “Can't we just go in there and talk it down?” Peter suggested.

  “It doesn't work like that,” Connie
shook her head. “Their kind were like us once, but as they evolved and grew stronger through the eons, they became dependent on their connection with Fate, or at least so comforted by it that it's unnatural and scary for them to be without it. Imagine how Queen Azalea is, but times a billion. For whatever reason, its uplink is damaged. Probably from when the magic was siphoned out of the world, or from the merger, or even both.”

  “So we need to repair it. What do we do?” Stitches said, looking around.

  “I've got a choice,” Constance replied quietly. “We can either destroy the Creator, and life will continue on the surface—but it will be hard, and severely dangerous, without the mechanisms that maintain everything artificial about our world. Many people will die...”

  Genevieve froze up, realising long before the others what the alternative solution was.

  “Or, I go inside and join with the Creator,” Constance concluded, breathing a defeated sigh; her gut-feeling of dread had been right all along. “The connection is me—or in me. It's why I'm here,”

  “Then we take out the Creator,” Stitches said firmly, unwilling to lose his best friend. “We can adapt, if all the nations and provinces put their heads together... we can manage somehow.”

  “Yep, how do we destroy it?” Genevieve asked defiantly, trying to hold back her tears.

  The Book Wielder smiled sadly. “You both already know what decision I've made. I can't let anyone else die on my behalf. There are millions of people on the surface… I can't let them suffer if there's a better way, even if it means my death.”

  “No…” Stitches whimpered.

  “Don't... please don't. I can't. I can't lose you too,” Genie begged as tears streamed from her red eyes, and she wiped them away furiously. “I made a promise that I wouldn’t lose you down here, and I’m not going to break it! You can’t go, it’s not happening!”

  “I'm so, so sorry Genevieve,” Constance said gently, taking her girlfriend in her arms. “The moments I spent with you were the best times of my life. I love you, and I always will.”