Witch Hunt

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Witch Hunt Page 11

by L R Deney


  “Oh good, because that was starting to disorient me,” Melanie said with relief. Then she looked around. “Where are we?”

  “Olympic National Park.”

  “Oh! Well, at least we’re close to home.”

  “Yeah, but we can’t go home.”

  “So what are we going to do?”

  “I have a friend who we can very likely stay with. You might like them, one of the few technomancers in the world. For that reason, they’re kind of outcast from the rest of the arcane community.”

  “What’s a technomancer?”

  “A spellcaster who can manipulate electronics. They’re still rare in this age, but their numbers seem to be increasing as electronics continue to become more commonplace. The next evolution of magic, I guess.”

  Melanie nodded.

  “Well, come on, Mel, I’ll introduce you to them.”

  With that said, Staci led the way through yet another portal.

  Chapter 13

  “Do we have the armies prepared?” Speaker Friedrich Fromm asked as aids attended to his lavish, red and black ceremonial robes.

  “Yes, Speaker,” replied his assistant, Abigail McAlister. She adjusted her glasses as she looked over her pad. “Seventeen legions of golems have been crafted and are ready for our counterstrike against Hell.”

  “Do we know where in Hell these legions are going, Abby?” He gave her the side eye.

  “Yes. Intelligence reports that Kadmon is a powerful force within Hell; she has been accumulating kingdoms over the last several decades. She names her empire Luciferion.”

  Fromm squinted at the name. “Hardly original. She couldn’t come up with something better?”

  “That is what intelligence reports. I have no comment on the name.”

  “Wonderful, so we’re dealing with a fanatical Lucifer fangirl with armies of demons at her disposal.”

  Abigail shrugged at that and held her pad to her side.

  Fromm sighed and looked himself over in the mirror. He didn’t expect to become the new Speaker of the Council of Magic; he was so ill prepared for the position. Nevertheless, he had to perform his duties as Speaker like those before him. Councilors Vasiliev and Andersson both assured him that he would perform well in the role of Speaker, and that if he needed any advice, both were willing to offer it to him.

  And he was acting on that advice now. The entire city of Azramoas had to be gathered for the momentous speech he was about to give. The whole of the arcane world had to know that Azramoas would not stand for unwarranted invasions and acts of terror. The assault on the capitol had to have a response. Kadmon had to pay for her actions and crimes against the city. And it was his general position as the de facto head of government to call for it.

  And after his speech to Azramoas, he had to organize another session of the Council in concern to the war he was about to declare.

  “Well, I suppose we can’t keep the citizens waiting,” he remarked before walking out of his chambers and down the corridor with a City Watch escort, his assistant trailing behind.

  The rumble of the crowd could already be heard as he approached the capitol’s front gates. Then when the doors were opened for his passage, the noise of the crowd seemed to crash in like a wave. That rumble then rose into cheers as he stepped out and descended the stairs to the podium where he took his place. He raised his arms, signaling that the cheers could rise as much as the citizens would like, then lowered them for a call for silence. Nearby, the rest of the councilors stood gathered.

  “Yes, yes, citizens of Azramoas, thank you. We stand here today because I am to announce something that will have great impact on our city in days to come. Months perhaps.

  “Yes, you all know about what happened here several days ago. We were brutally attacked by a demonic horde that interfered in the process of bringing the nefarious terrorist Staci Drenvauder to justice. As result, Drenvauder was able to slip free and several councilors met cruel and grisly ends.

  “Even more horrifying was the cold-blooded assassination of Speaker Johnathan Ravenford by the traitorous criminal, Drenvauder. She left a despicable calling card meant to intimidate us. Well, I’ll tell you one thing for sure, we will not be intimidated!”

  The citizens roared with that declaration.

  “That is what I like to hear, fierce determination from our citizens. Yes, as you know, I am your new speaker. I promise to hold up my duties as invested in that office. I speak for the Council, but we remain equal in all of our decisions, your representatives in government. So it’s with a heavy heart that I have to announce that we have made the decision that will affect us for some time.

  “We have declared war.”

  The crowd went silent.

  “Yes, we know that no one likes war. It can be bloody, wasteful, and expensive. However, we have an obligation to respond to the attack that was orchestrated against us. We have to respond to the deaths and mindless, wonton violence. We must show that we will not be pushed around by foreign powers determined to assassinate our leadership.

  “So it is because of these acts of violence and terrorism that we declare war against the Empire of Luciferion in the anarchic realm of Hell. As you know, Hell is composed of many feudal, demonic states full of lawlessness and destruction. It has existed since the dawn of time and has remained a source of vile and terrible evil throughout creation. But we find ourselves at odds with the largest kingdom within that dark realm, ruled by a brutal tyrant who calls herself Kadmon. Kadmon is clearly a dangerous expansionist and views herself as a new Devil, obsessed with the mythology of Lucifer.

  “Such a fanatic must be fought. We cannot become another victim in her maddened desire to expand her territory. We shall strike back against her and strike hard. Thus the Council of Magic has commissioned a grand new army of golems, designed for combat within the dark recesses of Hell.”

  He looked at the banners that hung on either side of him, his banners, representing his tradition of magic, black and red with lightning bolts and a magical glyph in their center. He had to smile with pride; the banner was being hung throughout the city as he made his speech. He must be strong as Vasiliev and Andersson advised.

  “We will win, we will be victorious. Our enemies will fall, and we shall crush this Kadmon underfoot. We shall see to it that her empire is dismantled and broken. We will not allow our way of life to be threatened by demonic influences.

  “It is because of that that I’ll be forming a City Watch task force. As the betrayal of Staci Drenvauder, agent of Kadmon, has revealed, there are diabolists among us. Diabolism has been illegal for hundreds of years, and with good reason. Therefore, the Azramoas City Watch shall be rooting out these dark influences from our city. For too long have arcane practitioners been accused of diabolism by the despicable Catholic Church, it’s why we created this city in the first place, a safe haven for all who practice the Arts.

  “So we must remain vigilant. The enemy may be among us. If you notice suspicious, diabolic practices, please alert the watch, do not engage. The watch is specially trained to deal with diabolists. So it will be prudent to follow this guidance. If you see something, say something.

  “Furthermore, I ask you to all remain strong in these dire times. Many changes will be taking place as we make Azramoas safe from any further attacks. These changes will be voted upon by the Council, so do not worry over unfounded concerns of fiat. We will remain strong, we will remain free!”

  The crowd roared again, and applause echoed through the campus and the streets. Speaker Fromm reveled in that moment, he had made an impact. These people loved him, and he loved them back. A smile crossed his lips.

  “For Azramoas!” he declared. It was promptly echoed back to him and his heart swelled with pride. “Thank you, I am now ready for questions from the press.”

  “Ah yes,” spoke up a distinguished gentleman with unusual multi-lensed glasses, a light brown suit and beige top hat with a slip of paper in its band declaring him
part of the press. “Azramoan Herald. How long do you expect operations in Hell to last? Because of its chaotic nature, couldn’t it pose a drawn out mess?”

  Speaker Fromm narrowed his eyes slightly at the question. The audacity. “The area of Hell which we’re invading is far more organized than the average province there. Kadmon runs a smooth and well-oiled empire according to intelligence reports we’ve received over the last few days. That’s probably why her empire has been rapidly expanding.”

  “So we can expect standard engagements in this war?”

  “Possibly, although the attack several days ago can leave room for doubt.”

  “Speaker!” cried a brunette in a very modern red dress suit. “Arcane Weekly. Are you able to determine the motives of this Kadmon that rules this demonic empire?”

  “We are not certain of her motives, no. The more our intelligence has brought in, the more we know. We do know that Kadmon is obsessed with the mythological figure Lucifer. She has claimed the title of ‘the Devil.’ Beyond that, we don’t know much.”

  “So we can expect further details to be released as the war continues?”

  “Perhaps. It depends how sensitive it is to our operations in Hell.”

  The woman nodded and stepped back.

  “Orcland Gazette. We have some questions!”

  Speaker Fromm turned his eyes toward the orc in a red and yellow striped suit, feeling a rise of nausea rise in his stomach, having forgotten that such a paper existed in Azramoas. “Yes?”

  “What do you think of the rumors that the Order of the Black Sun has returned?”

  Fromm rolled his eyes. “Just that. Rumors. The deranged ramblings of the wanted traitor and diabolist, Staci Drenvauder. None of it is accurate or close to the truth. If the Order returned, the Council would be the first to know.”

  “Yes, but what about reports that Staci was elsewhere during the assassination of Speaker Johnathan Ravenford?”

  “Absolute nonsense.”

  “Perhaps it was the work of Black Sun operatives within the Council in an attempt to frame her?”

  “Baseless conspiracy theories. Tell me, orc, would you happen to know where Staci Drenvauder is?”

  “Not at all. Just trying to get to the truth. I have several sources that suggest something more to this whole picture. Something the Council needs to investigate.”

  “Very likely story. Seize that orc! I wa—the Council wants him questioned!”

  “Ohhh shit!” exclaimed the orc, before pushing back through the crowd in a run. Behind him were three watchmen also pushing through the crowd in pursuit.

  The orc was able to make it out of the crowd and darted out toward an alley in a hope to lose his pursuers, but it was ultimately to no avail. The orc found himself being hammered down to the ground by the magic of the City Watch’s staves. Eventually they caught up with him, crumpled on the ground as they continued waving their staves, ignoring his pleas. Then they stopped and seized him by the arms, lifting him to his feet. From there, they led him away, the entire gathering watching, dumbstruck with disbelief.

  “You’re infringing on the free press!” shouted the orc. “Observe the corruption of fascism as we turn into a police state!”

  Fromm waited until the orc and the watchmen were out of sight. “Well, I apologize for the gentleman’s outburst. I guess some people just don’t know how to behave themselves in public.”

  The crowd laughed at his remarks and he simply smiled to the gathered citizens.

  “With that, there will be no further questions.” Speaker Fromm then turned around, ignoring the only two “legitimate” reporters as they tried to ask more questions as he ascended the steps to the entrance.

  ◆◆◆

  Grithnak looked to his companion, Saroos, and frowned after the Speaker disappeared from view. The sight of the reporter, Badlabb, being dragged off by authorities to have who-knew-what done to him was a terrible sign of where Azramoas was heading.

  “This isn’t good,” he said. “If they’re willing to infringe on the rights of the press, regardless of how popular or unpopular the method of reporting, then they’re willing to silence any of us. Staci was right; we’re in deep shit here.”

  “So what do we do?” Saroos asked, peering back over her shoulder.

  “We look out for each other in the community like we’ve always done. It’s only a matter of time before they come down on us, so we need to be prepared.”

  Saroos frowned. Azramoas was becoming terrifying in recent months, the human government becoming more authoritarian each day. Now it was snowballing in just half a week. And unfortunately the non-humans living in Azramoas were going to suffer the most for it.

  “C’mon,” Grithnak said, “let’s get back to the bar, this place makes me nauseous.” And he led the way out of the capitol district.

  ◆◆◆

  The entire Council, as it currently existed, was fully assembled. No new councilors had been elected yet, the number remained at six. Speaker Fromm sat in the center, the seat reserved for the title he held. He looked over the bills that were to be decided over, most of them were proposed by Vasiliev and Andersson. He smiled at that, considering the two councilors the most prudent and practical of all of them.

  He cleared his throat, momentarily looking to each of his peers. “Session has begun. As we know, we’re now at war, and this requires new legislation to be enacted. Our number is reduced, so we have to consider each vote to be gravely important.”

  Lacosse nodded, having been the deciding vote that elected Fromm. He was grateful to him for that.

  “Okay then,” Fromm continued, “so the first on our agenda today is whether or not we should hold another election to bring in more councilors to fill up our empty seats. The bill in question proposes that we wait until after the war is finished to hold an election. Anyone have any statements on this?”

  “Yes,” Councilor Okar answered, steepling his fingers in front of him. “Are we going to throw democracy to the wayside just because of a war? We need to hold an election, the people of Azramoas deserve it and our number is too few. If any more of us were to fall prey of assassination, there would be no council left. We need this election.”

  “But we are at war!” Vasiliev shot back. “We cannot distract our efforts by holding an election when we’re engaged with a powerful enemy. We must concentrate on winning the war and defeating Kadmon.”

  “At the cost of a representative government?”

  “There are already representatives here. You, myself, Speaker Fromm. Each of us was elected. We already serve the people and there being less of us won’t change that.”

  Okar began to stammer out another argument when he was interrupted by Fromm. “All right, it looks like both sides have articulated their positions well enough. Any further and I grow afraid that the discussion would devolve into petty squabbling.

  “So I ask that this bill be brought to an immediate vote. Is anyone in favor of postponing elections until after the war?”

  “Aye!” Vasiliev declared.

  “Aye,” echoed Andersson.

  “Nay,” Okar challenged with his vote.

  “Nay,” stated Frandsen.

  Lacosse exchanged a brief glance with Andersson and nodded. It was subtle, but it caught Okar’s notice. “Aye,” the French wizard announced.

  “Very well,” Fromm said in acknowledgement. “I support it too, so the measure passes four to two. Moving on, the next bill ascribes new, emergency powers to the Speaker of the Council of Magic. Such powers inclu—”

  “What is this?” interjected Okar, his dark eyes narrowing. “Who proposed these bills?” He glared at Vasiliev and Andersson. “The Speaker is only supposed to arbitrate and speak for the Council. He’s not supposed to have ‘extra emergency powers,’ he’s not a president or prime minister.”

  Frandsen placed a hand on Okar’s shoulder. “Drake, please calm down. We can debate this issue calmly and rationally.”


  Okar looked at his friend in horror. “What is there to debate? This goes against the very idea of the Council. We are all supposed to be equal here.”

  “And we are all equal here,” Andersson said, speaking up for once, usually quiet. “Cannot any one of us potentially become Speaker? It’s clear due to recent events that we need stronger leadership to guide us through these difficult times.”

  “I cannot agree with that perspective. It opens up a dangerous precedent for our society. The whole idea for the Council was not to concentrate all the power into a single person, like how the Catholics had their Pope.”

  “Different times, my friend.”

  “My pardon, but I don’t think we’ve ever been friends.”

  “Enough of this,” interrupted Speaker Fromm in a raised and frustrated voice. “Shall we have this measure voted on, now that we’ve had a… ‘debate’ over its pros and cons?” It had hardly been a debate, more like a squabbling argument. Politics!

  “Who is in favor of assigning new emergency powers to the office of the Speaker?”

  “Aye!” both Andersson and Vasiliev declared in unison.

  “Nay!” Okar replied a little too loudly, shortly echoed by Frandsen.

  “Aye.” Lacosse. Of course.

  “Very well, I also vote ‘aye,’” Speaker Fromm said, leaning back in in his seat. “Then it is settled, the office of the Speaker will be receiving emergency powers. The following bills consist of those emergency powers.”

  “So this is it,” Okar muttered under his breath. Then he proceeded to watch with horror as bill after bill ascribing new, horrific powers to the Speaker were overwhelmingly passed. Some of them even Julia Frandsen voted for.

  For the first time in his life, Drake Okar was truly terrified.

  ◆◆◆

  The Rusty Hook was rowdy as ever, a few orcs pushing each other jovially, goblins laughing to loudly, satyrs and centaurs getting too drunk to stand…. Every night was like this. With a few nice beats playing on the jukebox, the bar was the image of the slums of Azramoas, and Grithnak couldn’t be any happier about it. This place was his pride and joy.

 

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