by Sean Davies
A smile appeared on Mortissa’s Demon face, knowing that she had already won. She leapt onto him and stabbed him over and over with a pair of scissors from her cloak. All that was left of her target’s once handsome face was a mash of gore and blood.
The doors to the room opened and the dead man’s guards rushed in, rifles pointing towards her. They hesitated for a moment as they took in the unholy sight in front of them, and that was their last mistake.
Mortissa channelled her rage, which was overflowing from the loss of her precious face, and channelled a spell onto the floor as she threw herself out of the window, and then detonated a blast of witchfire outwards and upwards. She fell backwards with a cloud of glass splinters and watched as the top of the tower exploded in a bright green burst of fiery light.
She landed on her feet gracefully and pulled her hood up, trying to hide as much of her face as possible. The Isle in front of her erupted into chaos as the Pollutia saboteurs detonated their charges, and the citizens of the Gloom revealed themselves to the frightened and confused Isle dwellers as they killed their way back to the ships. Mortissa’s maidens leapt out of the glass tower and joined her as they strolled casually through the chaos.
The Ironclads opened fire with their cackling green energy guns, wreaking havoc at random, and the Galleons let rip with their broadside cannons adding to the devastation. The shore defences facing them were disintegrated under small mushroom clouds, the battleships in the harbour were nothing but sinking scrap metal, and the Inquisition airships were completely devastated, spouting a mix of blue plasma and green witchfire.
The Inquisition had begun fighting back. Plasma rifles and pistols spewed blue molten energy at the puppets which engulfed them and left nothing but ash, but the Gloom forces still had the element of surprise on their side and retaliated just as hard. Kelpbeard and his pirates pillaged, burnt, and slashed away at their foes as the other Alt’s ran for the water.
It wasn’t long before the Alts were back on their ships and sailing towards the point where Winston would open the portal home for them.
- - -
Winston had watched the whole thing from the small portal he’d made aboard the deck of the Enslaver. He had been filled with nervous anticipation throughout the Alt’s approach to the Isle. His heart had been pumping so hard that Veronica had used her magic to calm it, but he still had to suffer the feeling of butterflies in his tummy. But when he saw the top of the Central Tower go up in a blinding surge of witchfire, he was instantly at peace. They had done what they came here for, and their way of life was now secure. The following explosions and distant chaos across the Isle had made him smile. His plan had gone well, and the Inquisition wouldn’t be recovering in a hurry – if at all.
The four ships had once again been cloaked by Mortissa and were approaching the point where they had entered into the real world. Winston reopened the big portal to allow them back into the Gloom. They cheered and celebrated aboard all of the vessels. Winston closed the portals and shouted his ecstatic thanks to all of the Alts.
“That wasn’t half bad,” the Commodore said to him as they began sailing back to Hellion Harbour. “I would like to do business with you in the future.”
“Thanks,” Winston replied. “We don’t have much of a presence in Tropica... our version of the Colonies, but I’m sure we will do soon.”
“Well, in the meantime if you wouldn’t mind bringing some of that sweet stuff everybody’s raving about these days to the fatso or tech-junky, get them to ship it to me and I’ll make it more than worth your while with whatever you need from my part of the world,” the Commodore said kindly.
“I will do. Thank you again, Commodore,” Winston said, shaking his hand.
Aside from wave generating tendrils, the journey back to Hellion Harbour went smoothly. The atmosphere was joyous, full of laughter and singing – although a dark cloud seemed to loom over the ship that Mortissa was on.
The Mayor was waiting for them when they arrived. Winston went to tell him the good news, but he seemed uncharacteristically sullen.
“He wants to meet you tomorrow,” the Mayor said gloomily.
“Who wants to meet me tomorrow?” Winston asked baffled.
“The Archmage above,” he replied.
Chapter 9:
Archmage Revealed
Back in the real world, Lucius was most pleased with Winston and the Alt’s attack on the Isle. Nothing had been linked back to them and the Inquisition was in ruins. They had partied at a nightclub the Shadow Circle now owned called Club Rouge, but Winston’s mind had been elsewhere all night. He had sat on a table in the slightly quieter VIP lounge with Lewis and Veronica and discussed what the Mayor had said to him.
“So he wants to meet us both?” Lewis had asked.
“Apparently – at least that’s what the Mayor told me,” Winston replied. “He said it was nothing to worry about but he really wasn’t himself and he told us to come alone.”
“Well, I think we should check it out,” Lewis said courageously. “How bad can it be?”
“Firstly, you just jinxed the hell out of it,” Veronica said sternly, “and secondly, neither of you have any idea of what you’re actually walking into.”
“But what if this is what you prophesied?” Lewis retorted.
“I think it is,” Veronica said sharply, “and that’s what worries me. What if I’ve predicted something bad and this is our chance to stop it?”
“What if you’ve predicted something good and this is our chance to embrace it?” Lewis said in a weird tone.
“Stop it you two!” Winston snapped, and finally made up his mind. “We’ll go but we’ll be extra careful. We can’t carry on as we were without getting this Archmage business over and done with.”
Lewis smirked and Veronica frowned, and with that Winston said his goodbyes and went home to his room to bed. He had a restless sleep filled with dreams of masks and stars.
When he got up in the morning he made himself a hot cup of coffee, cooked up some fried eggs and bacon on toast, and sat down on his sofa to enjoy them. He flicked on the television and the news was playing on all stations; the death of the Autocrat and the attack on the Orphan Isle was being reported on.
“...the Councillors are yet to come to a conclusion on who will be the next Autocrat,” a female voice had said whilst camera images of burnt out buildings and smoking wrecks played on the television. “Just a moment... we are getting this message from Inquisitor General Alice Eve, Edgar II’s appointed leader of the Inquisition, and potentially the new Autocrat.”
The attractive yet stern dark-skinned woman that Winston had once seen outside of the Capital’s World GOVT building popped up on the screen in front of a white, gold, and black Inquisition banner. “...we will never forget what has transpired here on Orphan Isle, nor will we forgive. The perpetrators of this heinous attack on good Goddess fearing citizens and Inquisitors alike will be brought to swift and unmerciful justice.” Alice glared into the camera. “I know you’re out there, and I know what you are, and I will not rest until you are burning in holy fire...”
Winston switched off the television and threw the remote on his sofa. “Yeah... good luck with that, bitch.”
His phone chimed with a message from Lucius asking him to meet him in his room. He had a quick wash, got suited up, and walked to the Autocrat’s suite.
The bodyguards allowed him entrance and Winston walked inside to find Lucius standing by the window of his study.
He turned to Winston, smiled, and handed him a piece of paper. “Take a look.”
Winston looked at the paper, which resembled an old piece of parchment with elegant light blue writing. He skimmed down through the fancy swirly font. In short, it was a Summons from the Trinity. “What are you going to do?”
“This.” Lucius took the paper, pulled out a lighter, and watched it burn slowly until it reached his fingertips. He let the last scrap d
rop to the floor as it turned to ash on the way down.
The morning wasn’t off to a great start. “I’m sorry, Lucius. I should’ve realised that the Trinity would’ve just blamed us, evidence or not.”
Lucius waved his hand. “Don’t worry about it, it was going to happen sooner or later with us expanding at the rate that we are. I brought you in here to warn you about them. As my primary Book Wielder they’ll try to come after you as much as they will for me. Just look after yourself.”
“Thanks, I will.” Winston didn’t tell him about this Archmage character.
Lewis was waiting for him outside of his room. “You ready, man?”
“You’re a bit eager, aren’t you?” Winston was hoping to see Veronica before he left.
“I just want to get this over and done with. The suspense is killing me.”
“It might be a Demon killing you if we do this,” Winston said dryly.
“Come on, it’s us two!” Lewis said cheerfully. “We’re always alright. Let’s face it – we’ve got a guardian angel or something watching over us.”
“I suppose we do have quite good luck,” Winston grumbled.
“Quite good? You went from being nobody to the unofficial number two of a Supernatural gang in no-time, and I escaped the old folk’s home in the Catacombs and got very rich because my best friend can open portals.”
Winston chuckled. “Okay, okay, we are very lucky. But this still worries me.”
“You’re a superstar to the Alts, man. They wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”
“Hmm... true. Let’s get this over with then.”
They made their way into Winston’s room, stocked up on sweet food, bottled water and weaponry, and then he opened a portal into the now familiar Gloom equivalent of the Hotel Noir.
The Mayor was waiting at the front desk with Lanky. “Winston my boy, you came.” He sounded sad again. “And Louise, good to see you again.”
“It’s Lewis, LEWIS!” Lewis said angrily. “Louise isn’t even a boy’s name.”
The Mayor shrugged. “If you say so Larry, if you say so. Now we must be off, it’s waiting.”
Without waiting for a reply the Mayor went outside, so Lewis and Winston followed. The Gloom outside was quieter than normal. There was less witchlight coming from the windows of the buildings around them, and the whole place had a daunting feel to it. It felt like they had gone back in time to before Winston had found the quill.
The Mayor disappeared around a corner and the two Book Wielders went to follow. There was an unpleasant chill in the air, and the silence somehow seemed louder there than anywhere else.
The Book Wielders gasped in shock as they turned the bend to catch up with the Mayor. Two huge dragons with black and ash grey scales, glowing red eyes, and enormous folded dark grey wings were waiting on all fours in the middle of the road. They had brown leather saddles on their backs with handles to hold onto and rope ladders either side to help mount them. The Mayor was talking to them and the dragons were nodding along.
“What the fuck?” Lewis said, stunned silly.
“I guess they’re our transport,” Winston said, gazing at the creatures.
The Mayor walked up to them. “They’re ready to take you to him. I told them to be careful with you, indeed I did.”
“Okay then...” Lewis said, approaching the nearest one. He hesitantly climbed up the rope ladder and sat on the saddle. He gave a thumbs-up to Winston.
“Be careful my boy,” the Mayor said quietly to Winston.
“Okay, I will,” Winston said as he made his way to the other dragon.
On closer inspection, the dragon looked very old. Some of its scales had fallen off, and ash and dust had collected in-between its good ones, though even those looked worn and scuffed. With slow and careful movements, Winston climbed onto the saddle and placed his hands on the handles. With a joint growl the dragons outstretched their wings and beat them hard until they were off the ground.
The cool wind roared into Winston’s face as the dragons picked up speed, and he had to squint to keep his eyes partially open. Soon Gloom City in all its glum grimy glory was beneath him. It was a city of darkness enclosed by its thick serrated black steel wall. It wasn’t long before they were closing into the hazy purple clouds of the Gloom skyline. Winston braced himself as they penetrated the ceiling of clouds.
The Book Wielders held their breath as the dragons took them higher and higher through the misty purple clouds. They were damp, tingly, and smelled of damp burning wood. Suddenly they immerged into a brightly lit open space, although there seemed to be no source for this new found illumination. The cloud line beneath them now looked fluffy and coloured in shades of white and gold. The sky around and above them was like a twilight sunset. There were fading stars dotted around that struggled to sparkle, and two bright ones that seemed to call out to Winston. But his focus was on the floating castle before him.
It was just like one from his dreams. It was a floating citadel made of expertly cut white and light grey stone blocks, with red tiled roofs on its circular towers and main fortress. It had the same billowing waterfalls that curved back around, defying gravity and flowing upwards back into the structure. Black dragons flew lazy patrols around the skies nearby the structure and some sat peacefully on its ramparts.
The dragons took them into land on a marble platform made of big black and white marble slabs. The dragons craned their long necks around, growled slightly, and nodded at Winston and Lewis. The Book Wielders climbed off and the Dragons flew away to join their kin.
“I guess we’re here until it’s over then,” Lewis said.
“Still confident nothing bad is going to happen?” Winston asked.
“If this Archmage wanted us dead, we’d have been dragon food. Come on, let’s go inside.” Lewis walked off to find an entrance.
“That’s true, I suppose.” Winston joined him.
They walked along small well-kept gardens of brightly coloured lush plant life that neither of the Book Wielders had ever seen before, passed by trees with odd glowing fruit, and spotted strange sparkling butterflies that looked like fairies. The saw the occasional statue of tall, good looking, robed individuals who they assumed were depictions of the ‘super-mages’ of old before they became Demons.
“I think we can get in here,” Lewis said after scouting ahead.
Winston caught up with him and saw that he had found an open stone archway that lead inside the citadel. “Wow, that’s an impressive interior.”
In front of them the inside of the citadel was lavishly decorated with ceiling high bookshelves, floating white light chandeliers, and strange ornaments that were displayed on pedestals or floating in mid-air. Black banners with a white masquerade mask were suspended in the air, and the floor was the black and white chequered marble slabs just like the dragon landing pad.
“It doesn’t exactly scream evil Demon trap, does it?” Lewis said, moving deeper inside.
“No, but it doesn’t seem right somehow,” Winston said, playing with his magical ring. He had felt the artefact was wasted on him until now.
“Come on man, it only feels like that because you’ve never seen a magical castle before!” Lewis said, hurrying towards a big set of dark blue wooden doors.
“And you have?”
“You know what I mean. Cheer up, as far as the Gloom goes this place is a walk in the park,” Lewis said happily. “Remember, if the Archmage wanted us dead he could’ve finished us off dozens of times by now!”
“Oh yeah, that cheers me right up. Thanks Lewis,” Winston said sarcastically.
Lewis pushed on the doors and they opened to reveal a circular room in the heart of the citadel. It had a circular glass or crystal floor and ceiling, and spaced symmetrically around them were more blue doors. Beside them were towering bookshelves filled with books that floated around and filed themselves into different shelves at random. They seemed identical
to those that all Book Wielders owned. In a flash of light, the Archmage appeared in the centre of the room.
It was tall and clad in plain white armour. Over the top of that it wore a tight black robe, cut at strange symmetrical angles that left its chest and stomach bare as well as its lower arms and legs. Its head was covered by a black chainmail coif, and had a long plume of black and white hair that fell down to its waist like a ponytail. It had at least three plain white masks on its head, one facing them with a calm expression and two at the sides. It also had plain white masks on each of its chest and shoulder armour plates, and one on the middle of its stomach armour. All the masks seemed to change expression when they weren’t being focused on, apart from the centre face mask which kept its poised dignified expression frozen throughout.
“Welcome,” it said in a pleasant yet distorted tone that was similar to Mortissa’s, but less scary. “Thank you for coming, Winston and Lewis. I know you must have had your reservations about accepting the invitation.”
“No worries,” Lewis said smoothly. “We like your pad, by the way.”
“Why are we here?” Winston asked, getting straight to the point.
“You don’t trust me, Winston? That’s understandable; after all, you’re no fool,” the Archmage began. “But please believe me when I say that I have your best interests at heart.”
Winston hesitated, but the thing seemed sincere enough.
“As you already have guessed, I am the Archmage. My name is Omniosis, and you are here because I need your help to restore the world to its former glory.”
“What former glory?” Lewis asked.
“As Winston deduced a short while ago, we once lived in your world. There were many Archmages back then and we looked more like you,” Omniosis said sadly. “It was magnificent. Magic and wonder were everywhere. The world was like our book and we were the writers. I was part of a conclave that looked after the world, and we were tasked with the governance of both human and Archmage affairs. The world seemed harmonious, but two foul Archmages became jealous of our power and disagreed with our leadership, so they formed their own secret conclave and plotted to overthrow us. We discovered their plan and moved against them. They were no match for my companions and I, and we had almost won the day when they used a spiteful joint spell that ruined us all.”