by Davies, Sean
When he got to the hotel, he went to reception and asked them to call the Archmage and then Lewis, but neither of them were available. So instead he went to his room, had a quick bath, and changed into a fresh suit. Then he just sat alone in his room, waiting for something to happen. For a short time he looked out of his window, out to the unmerged sky just beyond Imperia City’s walls, until the randomly occurring strange flicker from real sky to Gloom sky bothered him too much to watch any more.
After a while he poured himself a glass of whiskey, downed it in one go, and then took the whole bottle back with him to the sofa. For the first time, he could honestly admit to missing his boring old life at home with his parents before he’d found his book, or before his book had found him. Everything was such a mess, and he only had his gut instinct and the cryptic words of a seer to guide him. All of his close friends were gone, or were secretly his enemy, and he had no one to help share his massive burden.
Before he knew it, he had made his way through most of the bottle, but he was so depressed and anxious that it hardly seemed to have an effect. It was only after he’d gotten up to get his book and his quill that he noticed just how drunk he was. He put the bottle back into his kitchen and sank into the sofa with his book, hoping that somewhere within its mysterious pages he’d find the answers he was seeking. Or at least a momentary distraction from the pain in his busy mind and the dull aching sensation in his stomach.
Winston opened the book and watched the ink race across the pages, until they formed the words: ‘Don’t worry Winston, everything will work out for the best. Your real friends are coming to help’. The fateful Book Wielder stared at the words until they faded away, and he wondered if he’d actually seen them, or if he was just so drunk and in pain that he’d imagined what he wanted to see. He wondered, after everything that had happened, if his mind was finally at breaking point. Then someone started hammering at his door.
“Hold on a moment,” Winston said as calmly as possible.
He closed his book, rooted around his drawers, and found his trusty old lighter and a low calibre pistol. He quickly checked that the lighter still had gas and that the gun was loaded before he hesitantly went to the door. Winston unlocked it and slowly opened it.
“Winston, my boy!” the Mayor said with a beaming gold plated smile. Just like always, he was in his black and white striped suit, broken monocle, old dusty top hat, and carrying his metal cane.
“Hi Winston, we came to see you!” The Deputy Vice Assistant to the Foreman said excitedly. DVAF was wearing a dirty old brown overcoat, had his glowing green goggles on, his necklace of gears and cogs, and steam routinely sprouted from the joints in his copper and brass clockwork and steam powered arms.
Winston immediately dropped his guard. In all honesty, he couldn’t have been happier to see his Alternative friends. He found it terribly ironic how the people he was closest to weren’t really people at all. At the beginning of his career as a Book Wielder he would have been looking for the nearest exit or the quickest way to kill the strange puppet people, and now they were the best of friends.
“Come in, come in,” Winston said. “You guys want something sweet?”
“Sorry Winston, we don’t have time-” DVAF began.
The Mayor elbowed his Alternative comrade in the stomach. “Something sweet would be wonderful, Winston. That it would!”
“Take a seat, I’ll see what I can find,” Winston said to them as he hurried to the kitchen, staggering slightly as he went.
He dug out a couple of bottles of fizzy drink from the kitchen cabinets, and found a few bars of chocolate in his and Veronica’s treat tin. Winston passed them to the Alts who had settled on his sofa, and they began devouring them greedily. He then poured himself another stiff drink of whiskey and sat on an armchair opposite them.
“So,” Winston began, “I haven’t seen much of you guys lately. I’ve been meaning to catch up for a while now.”
The Mayor closed his round black eyes as he finished a chocolate bar in one go, and after the initial rush had worn off he opened them again to reply. “It’s not your fault, not your fault at all!” he boomed. “It’s the masked-prick’s fault. That it is!”
“He’s talking about the Archmage,” DVAF leaned in close to whisper the obvious to Winston.
“Thanks…” Winston whispered back as if he hadn’t known.
“He makes us do things, Winston,” the Mayor continued, close to tears. “He made me avoid you, my oldest of friends. My dear bringer of sweet treats, chocolate delights, and sugary drinks! That he did!”
DVAF gave the Mayor a hug and patted him on the back as the big blubbering puppet cried loudly. “He’s a powerful Demon, or at least many of them all stuck together, so he can make everything connected to the Gloom do his bidding,” the Alt from Pollutia elaborated.
“So why are you here?” Winston asked confused.
The Mayor pulled out a filthy hanky from his suit jacket pocket, and loudly blew the nose he didn’t actually have before answering. “He’s got your lovely wife Veronica on a ship not far from that middle-island place of yours, and he wants us to bring you to him! That he does!”
Winston was shocked but not surprised. Strangely, he was more relieved knowing that his wife was still alive. He had a strange, almost subconscious feeling that he knew how things would play out, but couldn’t quite unlock the knowledge within his conscious mind.
“Kelpbeard is waiting for us all with some ships in Galleon Anchorage,” DVAF added cheerfully.
“Surely you guys shouldn’t be telling me all this?” Winston asked. It really didn’t feel like they were here to force him to play along with the Archmage’s wishes.
“Of course we’re not, my dear boy!” the Mayor said happily. All of his earlier sadness had disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. “He’s a Demon-”
“And we hate Demons-” DVAF interrupted.
“We fucking hate them to fucking bits!” the Mayor interrupted back. “That we do!”
“I thought he controlled you, though?” Winston asked baffled. He was certainly having second thoughts about the heavy drinking.
“To a degree, my dear boy,” the Mayor explained, “but we just hate him so much. Oh, how we hate him so!”
“It seems that our hatred for him has overpowered his control,” DVAF added enthusiastically, “and our love for you, of course. You see we really like you because you’re nice to us. The best part about all of this is that the Archmage doesn’t seem to realise that he’s lost control of us!” He giggled like a naughty child.
“So we came up with a crafty little plan, a crafty plan indeed,” the Mayor whispered sneakily. “We’re going to take you to the Archmage-”
“But we’re only going to be pretending!” DVAF cut in, and received a big slap to the back of the head from the Mayor.
“The sneaky part is,” the Mayor continued to whisper dramatically, “that we’re only going to be pretending!”
“We distract the Archmage, you rescue Veronica and get yourselves back to our ships, and then Kelpbeard and the others annihilate him with some of the most lethal, catastrophic, and extremely volatile weapons that I’ve had the immense pleasure of tinkering with!” DVAF said merrily.
Winston was actually so happy that he felt like he could cry. “That’s great, you guys. Really, I don’t know how to thank you enough.” He got off his armchair and hugged the pair of Alts tightly.
“If we survive, a lifetime supply of candy would be a nice start,” the Mayor said cheekily, “a nice start indeed!”
- - -
In the short time that they had been above the surface of Central Isle, Brooke and Alexander had become quite fond of the place. Although they were confined to their house by the shore for the most part, occasionally they were granted an escorted trip along the calm beaches or to the local supply centre to stock up on food.
Brooke was looking out of the window across the still ocean, watching the stran
ge thin purple clouds spread like the sky was made of slowly cracking glass, and sometimes she would get a glimpse of a dark purple sky that wasn’t their sky at all.
Since her freedom from the detention centre, Brooke had attacked her crazy hair growth with a pair of clippers, and blunted several disposable razors to get her dark skinned body and scalp back to its silky smooth self again.
She brought the two cups of tea into the almost bare living room, where Alexander was sitting at the table reading an old book that one of the Inquisition guards had given him.
“Thanks honey,” he said, lifting his purple eyes up from his book. “Any news yet?”
“No, nothing since she came to the detention centre that day.” Brooke was beginning to think that the Lord Inquisitor had forgotten about her and the mission.
“Well at least it’s not too bad here, and this book is actually really good!” Alexander said optimistically before having a sip of tea.
“You are one of the biggest nerds I have ever met in my life,” Brooke sighed, and then leant in for a kiss. “Why is it that I love you so much?” she asked jokingly.
“Because I’m an incredibly smart, gifted and handsome white-haired fox of a man,” Alexander chuckled. “And I’m modest too…” he added sarcastically.
Brooke laughed and kissed him again. Despite the desolate décor, she had actually grown quite fond of the place, and of the peace and quiet. Maybe if the world didn’t end soon she would hang up her rifle and settle down with Alexander.
An Inquisition trooper slammed open their front door. “Come on, quickly!”
“What’s going on?” Alexander demanded, standing up and bringing a spell to mind just out of reflex.
“The Isle is being evacuated,” the trooper said frantically. “Please hurry.”
“The whole Isle?” Brooke asked as she gathered up a few essentials. “I hope that includes the detention centre,” she added tersely.
“It does,” the trooper replied quickly. “They’re getting shipped back to the Omni, and you two are going down the Catacombs by request of Kaine.”
“Kaine?” Brooke and Alexander asked in unison.
“He’s the third Trinity member now,” the trooper said hastily. “Now please come with me, I don’t want to get left behind!”
Brooke and Alexander finally left the house to follow the grateful Inquisitor to a troop truck loaded with other civilians. They hopped onto the back and sat with all the other nervous civilians heading to the Catacomb entrance.
“I guess this the end of the world then,” Alexander said wistfully.
“I think I’m more shocked about Kaine joining the Trinity, to be honest,” Brooke lied, in an attempt to lift the dire mood.
“I’ve got a million questions for the old dog about that one,” Alexander replied. “It’s just a pity that you didn’t get to shoot Omniosis between the eyes with a nice explosive Sanctium round.”
“He’ll get his comeuppance, I guarantee it,” Brooke said confidently. “All power hungry pricks do in the end. I just wish I could be there to see it.”
- - -
Winston had driven his Alt companions to Galleon Anchorage against the Mayor’s wishes, as quickly and as safely as he could, considering that he was still intoxicated. The Mayor had wanted them to ride in his Spidercar-driven carriage. Instead, Winston had taken them in his flashy white sports car, even though the Mayor had a hard time squeezing his well-stuffed puppet body into the sleek automobile. If this was to be his final chapter of life then Winston wanted to get at least one last drive in it.
The harbour city of Galleon Anchorage was like a ghost town, the only sign of habitation being the occasional movement of a curtain or a head peeking out of the window cautiously, and of course the mixed forces of the Omni. As they drove by patrols of MPK’s, Alts and Supernaturals, the Mayor would shout out that they were on ‘official Archmage duty’, even though the patrols didn’t seem that concerned with them. The city had sustained some damage throughout the fighting, though not a lot considering that it was one of the Omni’s main ports, but the places that had been attacked were completely devastated. The smell of smouldering wood and ashes now joined that of the smell of the salty sea and freshly caught fish.
Kelpbeard was waiting on board his personal Galleon named the ‘Driftwood’, and was waving with his crab claw arm as they parked up by the harbour. Wooden puppet pirate Alternatives leapt sail to sail with acrobatic grace as they prepared the ship for departure. Further out to sea there was another similar looking Galleon and two Pollutian Ironclads the colour of copper, brass, and rust, which crackled violently around their many armaments with surges of green Gloom energy.
Winston came to a stop as close to the harbour as he could, and DVAF had to help the Mayor out of his car by pulling him with his strong mechanical arms until his large form popped free of the door.
The Driftwood was a classic styled Galleon, made from mould-encrusted dark Gloom wood, and had the overall appearance of something that had been dredged up from the bottom of the ocean. Since Winston saw it last, the Galleon’s broadside cannons had undergone significant modifications, probably thanks to DVAF, and now they were brass coloured tubes covered in thick steaming pipes and glowing green lights. Just like the Ironclads, the Driftwood’s sides occasional crackled with bolts of unstable Gloom energy.
“Are ye ready to send the Archmage down to a watery grave, Winston me laddo?” the soggy wooden pirate captain shouted merrily.
“Damn right I am,” Winston shouted back, and he began climbing up the damp rope ladder to the main deck.
DVAF quickly followed, and then the Mayor slowly pulled himself up last. When he got on the Driftwood’s deck, he panted heavily and dabbed his brow free of imaginary sweat with his dirty handkerchief.
“Make sure Veronica’s safe before you try out these new weapons of yours,” Winston reminded Kelpbeard.
“Don’t you worry, Winston. Yurr lady friend is in good hands with me, yarr!” Kelpbeard said, showing Winston his normal hand, and opening and closing the pincer of his crab-clawed one.
“Everybody, remember the plan,” DVAF said. “Winston’s meant to be our prisoner.”
The Mayor smiled. “We’ll do a good bit of acting, a good bit of acting indeed!”
“Yarr!” Kelpbeard agreed. “The scurvy masked Demon bastard won’t know what’s hit him, ah ha!” And his whole crew echoed the cheer.
“Let’s go then, and thank you all again for this,” Winston said gratefully.
“Don’t mention it, my boy!” the Mayor boomed. “Though don’t forget that lifetime supply of sugary treats I mentioned…”
“I’d be happy with a promotion,” DVAF butted in.
“And I’d settle for some plunder and booty!” Kelpbeard added his request to the list. “Some needle maiden booty that is! Yarr ha!” His crew joined in with the dirty cheer.
Winston laughed heartily. “Don’t worry, if we live though this I’ll make sure that you’re all handsomely rewarded with whatever you want.”
The Driftwood set sail, and joined the other Galleon and pair of Ironclads. Together they sailed for Central Isle, and for better or worse, Winston’s story was about to end.
Chapter 10: Winston’s Final Choice
The Archmage and Lewis had made themselves at home in the bridge cabin, and left Alice and Veronica trapped at the prow of the ship as they awaited Winston’s arrival.
The two heroines had both given up their attempts to escape from their semi-invisible prisons. Veronica had even tried cutting at the floor with her sword, only to have a surge of energy knock her over, and Alice had tried to negate the magic only to find that she was hopelessly overwhelmed by the Archmage’s power. Now the pair of captives sat cross-legged, bored and anxious, as they awaited their fate.
Alice had started flicking through her book to see if it could shed any light on how to escape from an Archmage’s magical prison, but it was only showing her some advanced
powerful spells that weren’t of any relevance. Considering that she struggled just to create a decent orb of mage light, they were especially useless to her. She carried on looking through the pages just to distract herself from her perilous predicament, and then her book displayed something in large plain writing that shocked her greatly. The strange sentence read: ‘When the sky falls, look up to the stars that you once called goddesses, and their light will assist you’. The sentence faded, and Alice wondered if she had imagined it.
“Winston’s going to do whatever the Archmage asks of him, isn’t he?” Alice said grimly.
“To keep me safe,” Veronica replied sadly. “Yeah, he probably will. Even if he knows that the Archmage will just kill us all anyway.”
“I guess this is the end then,” Alice said, even though in her heart it only felt like the beginning.
“Guess so,” Veronica agreed. Her instincts were also telling her that things had only just begun, but she couldn’t see how.
Lewis and Omniosis exited the cabin. They briefly exchanged words and looked over the rear of the ship.
“Good news ladies," Lewis called out to them, “Winston will be here soon!”
- - -
The Driftwood took the lead and the other three ships followed at a slight distance. It didn’t seem long before Winston and the small fleet of Alternative vessels spotted the tanker sitting just at the edge of Central Isle’s waters.
Kelpbeard passed Winston a rusty spyglass with a cracked lens and pointed to the front of the stationary ship. “I can see yurr woman, looks like she be safe.”
Winston looked through the spyglass at the prow of the tanker. His heart raced and adrenaline surged through his veins when he spotted his wife wearing some casual clothes and wielding Xavier’s spell-forged sword. He was so glad that she was fine, but he was dreading what would happen next. Strangely enough, standing beside her was the Lord Inquisitor Alice Eve, the other white-eyed Book Wielder. She too was dressed in regular clothes and armed with her own spell-forged hammer. Both women seemed rooted to the spot.