Requiem

by Jim Moens

Doug nodded in agreement.

  “Let’s--” he started, but saw a tall man in a thick red robe standing directly in their path.

  “Who’s this asshole?” Megan said.

  As if on cue, the man raised his open palms to waist level. Small flames sprouted from his fingers.

  “That would be the Fire Wizard,” Doug said. “One of the Elementals.”

  “Let me guess,” Nick said, looking about. “Air and Water Wizards can’t be far behind.”

  From behind them: “Correct.”

  A light breeze suddenly became a gust of wind. The gust became a whirlwind. Doug looked down and saw a trickle of water underfoot, as the whirlwind alighted behind them. A smaller man in a white robe emerged. The trickle of water became a torrent that gushed upwards into the air. Another wizard, a tall woman in a blue robe, sprang forth.

  They were effectively surrounded.

  “What is it you want?” Doug said. “We’re peaceful travellers. We mean no harm.”

  The Fire Wizard chuckled. “Not according to our Empress,” he said. “We are to eliminate you in due course.”

  “What did we ever do to you?” Rebecca shot back.

  The Water Wizard shrugged. “I don’t care,” she replied. “I do as my Empress wishes.”

  “Excuse me,” came another voice, soft and quiet.

  A small figure, shrouded in rough-hewn gray robe, shuffled up to the group.

  “Excuse me,” the figure said again, “would one of you be so kind as to direct me to the palace?”

  The Wizards looked at one another, uncertain how to deal with this transgressor. “You can see it from here,” said the Air Wizard and pointed at the castle spire.

  “Why do you need to get to the palace?” said the Water Wizard.

  “I need to see the Empress,” came the reply.

  The Wizards all looked at one another.

  “Do you have… an appointment?” the Fire Wizard asked.

  “I don’t think I need one,” the figure said.

  “Really?” the Fire Wizard replied.

  “No. I don’t.” The robed figure drew back its hood to reveal the gaunt face of an aged woman. Her long silver hair spilled out. She brushed back a lock of gray. “I should be able to see my sister whenever I want.” She smiled.

  Megan looked over at Doug. He shook his head.

  “The Empress doesn’t have a sister,” the Air Wizard said.

  “Are you certain?” the woman replied.

  The Wizards all glanced at one another.

  “Yes..?” the Air Wizard finally said.

  The woman slowly broke into a broad smile. She spread her arms before her and her hands began to glow with a bright purple light and the Wizards slowly backed away. The Fire Wizard took a tentative step forward. The woman raised a hand towards him in response. The Wizard took another slow step and a blast of light issued from the woman’s hand. The Fire Wizard, briefly enveloped in the purple glow, fell to the ground.

  “Begone,” the woman said.

  The two remaining Wizards stood their ground.

  “All of you,” she said, as the purple energy crackled from her fingertips. “Begone.”

  The Air and Water Wizards dashed off down the street, leaving their fallen comrade behind.

  “They’ll be back,” Doug said, “with reinforcements.”

  The woman turned to Doug. “We won’t be here,” she said.

  “Good plan.” Megan muttered. “Anything else?”

  The woman surveyed the rest of the group. She smiled.

  “Who are you?” Doug said.

  “I am Ayala Cristescu,” she replied.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The group followed her deep into the village. Megan took the lead, walking next to Ayala, with the others close behind.

  “So that’s your sister?” Nick said to Doug.

  Doug only nodded in reply.

  “She’s kinda hot,” Nick said.

  Megan half-glanced back and smiled.

  “She’s been dead for ten years,” Doug replied.

  Nick was silent for a moment. Then: “Your family’s weird, dude.”

  The streets narrowed more and more the farther they got from the village square, until they arrived at a small storefront just feet from the exterior wall around the village. Ayala drew an almost comically large iron key from deep within the folds of her cloak. She turned the key and pushed the door open. It creaked loudly enough that it made everyone look around uncomfortably.

  “Inside,” she said and rushed them all through the door.

  After shutting the door behind her, Ayala pointed a finger at a far wall. A lamp immediately came to life, illuminating the whole room in an amber glow.

  The room was rather larger than it looked from the outside, yet still small. There was a wood-fired stove in one corner, a slab of a bed along another wall, and a wooden table with a couple of rickety chairs in the center of the room.

  “Sit,” Ayala said, gesturing towards the table.

  None of the group sat. Ayala eased into a chair at the end of the table.

  “I imagine you have a good number of questions,” Ayala began.

  “You got that right,” Doug said. He opened his mouth for more. Megan hushed him, holding up her hand. She glanced back at the others, a silent command that they should keep quiet as well.

  “And I imagine we were followed here,” Ayala continued, “so we should be quick about it,”

  Megan nodded. “So you’re dead.”

  “I am. As are you.”

  Doug remembered just who Ayala was. Megan had done countless hours of research into their family tree and had later shared it with Doug.

  “You’re the girl who was killed?” he said.

  “I am.”

  “So…” Doug struggled to find the words. “You’re…”

  Ayala bowed her head. “My dear sister Adela, in all of her rage and grief at my murder, cast a spell on your family. A curse, really… one that doomed your family to generations of failure and death. Damon started coming after you… coming after you both… just as you began to change your lives for the better.”

  “A curse?” Megan said.

  “Magic runs deep and strong through my family’s blood. We come from a very long line of witches, warlocks, and wizards. Papa brought us to America to escape that heritage. Unfortunately, there are those things that no one can run from. The magic was still there and always would be. It was strongest, by far, in Adela. She tried to suppress it for many years, with our sister Elena’s help, but it finally came spilling out when I was murdered.”

  “So who’s this Damon?” Doug said.

  Ayala shook her head sadly. “Damon is my son.”

  Megan drew a deep breath. “You and… you and Dennis never had a son. You died before you could get married.”

  “I was pregnant.”

  There was a moment of silence, then finally Doug spoke. “So how is it everyone is dead, yet I can… I fought Damon, for God’s sake. He blew up my house.”

  “Adela’s magic was… is… uncontrolled and undisciplined,” Ayala said. “Untrained and born of rage. Her powers are very strong, but she has almost no control over them. Thus, the curse is beyond her control and manifests itself in a variety of mostly horrible ways. Damon is the purest and strongest manifest of the curse.”

  “How else?” Megan said. “How else does this curse manifest?”

  “Adela’s dark magic and Damon’s existence have weakened the already thin walls between reality and fantasy, between life and death. That’s why you and I walk as if we are among the living. That’s why you are here in this... fantastic world.”

  “It’s a computer game,” Doug said.

  “I don’t know what that is,” Ayala said. “I am eighty-nine years old. I haven’t been a part of your world for over seventy years.”

  “It’s a good game,” Doug said.

  Ayala smiled at him.

  Megan clasped Doug
by the shoulder. “So that’s why we were able to use those cards of yours… you know, for the vortex thingie.”

  “The Wizard Wars cards,” Doug said. He fingered the stack of cards in his jacket pocket, grateful for his instinct to bring them along. “You said the line between reality and fantasy is blurry. We can use that to our advantage, right?”

  “I suspect so,” Ayala said.

  Tommy surreptitiously reached in the pocket of his jacket. He smiled.

  Megan leaned slightly forward. “And you’ve been here for seventy years?” she said.

  Ayala bowed her head. “I’m a part of this curse, just as Adela is. Just as Damon is. Her magic swept me up in its wake. I’m not a part of your world, but my spirit is not departed. I’m in a twilight between the two.”

  “Thank you for pulling me from the water,” Megan said. “That was you, right?”

  “It was. I also retrieved you from imprisonment. I knew you could help your brother if anyone could.”

  “So can we break this curse?” Doug asked.

  “The curse goes with Adela and Damon. Once they’re gone, the curse is gone.” The old woman fell silent for a moment. “You understand that I can’t kill my son and I can’t kill my sister.”

  “So if--” Megan stopped short and glanced at Doug. “When we break this curse, what happens to you? To me?”

  Ayala leveled her gaze with Megan’s. “Then we’ll take our rightful place among the dead. I’m sorry.”

  Megan shrugged. “As little brother might say, this is a bonus life for me.”

  Megan looked over at a silent Doug. He stared at the floor, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Like in one of your video games,” she said.

  “Yeah, I get it,” he replied, his voice low and rough.

  Ayala stood and approached Doug. ”But you understand what breaking this curse means for your family, don’t you?”

  “I think so.”

  “It’s up to you,” she implored, gripping Doug’s hand. “You can change your family’s destiny.”

  Doug looked over to Frankie. She offered a wan smile in return. He felt the awful weight of this responsibility.

  Ayala stood and approached Doug. She gently placed a hand to his cheek. “You have it in you to be a hero, Doug. You truly do.” She scanned the rest of the group. “You all do.”

  Bill’s words bounced around in Doug’s head again. Do better. Do better than me.

  Doug cleared his throat. “I’ll do my best,” he said quietly.

  “Fight or die, little brother,” Megan whispered. “Fight or die.”

  Ayala held up a hand.

  “Did you hear that?” the old woman said. “The scrape of a sword.”

  Ayala approached the door. Doug and Megan followed suit.

  “They’re here,” Ayala said.

  Megan reached back for her own sword.

  “No,” Doug said. “We let them capture us. They’ll take us to Damon and Adela. They’re going to find us eventually anyway.”

  The door burst inside, clean off its hinges. Volitor bowed his head to get under the low door frame and lumbered inside.

  “Come with us,” Volitor said in his deep, guttural voice. “The Empress wishes to see you.”

  Four more guardsmen came in past Volitor and drew their swords. The entire group all raised their hands, almost as one. The little stone hut was suddenly very crowded.

  “No problem whatsoever,” Doug said. He almost smiled.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  They reached the Empress’ castle mere minutes later. The guardsmen, with Volitor in the lead, surrounded the group. Their quick procession through the village caught barely a passing glance from the citizens. Doug surmised that a group of prisoners being brought before the Empress was a fairly common occurrence.

  They reached the door at the base of the castle spire.

  “Open!” Volitor boomed.

  The sound of gears grinding issued from within the palace and the door began to raise.

  Doug leaned in to Megan. “That big guy in the red armor,” he whispered. “He’s all mine.”

  “Little bit of a vendetta?” she whispered back.

  “Last time we fought, my router went out.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “Never mind,” he said.

  Volitor turned back toward the group. “Forward,” he said.

  They entered the throne room. Somehow it was brightly lit this time, despite only a few torches providing illumination as before… and as before, a robed figure sat on the throne.

  “Empress,” Volitor called out.

  “Thank you, Volitor,” the Empress said as she rose. Much as Ayala did, the Empress drew her hood back, only to reveal the hauntingly beautiful face of a young woman.

  “Hello sister,” Ayala said.

  The Empress smiled beatifically. “My sweet Ayala. How I’ve missed you.”

  Ayala crossed her arms in response as the Empress approached.

  “Make this insanity stop,” Ayala fairly well hissed.

  “To what ‘insanity’ are you referring?” the Empress replied.

  “This curse of yours,” Ayala said. “These people did nothing to you. Nothing. Yet you destroy their lives and kill them.”

  “Their family destroyed ours,” the Empress said. “so I'll destroy theirs.”

  “These people are innocent,” Ayala shouted, her voice rising with each word. She stepped forward toward the Empress.

  The Empress stepped forward as well. “No one, dear sister,” she said, “no one is innocent.”

  Doug cast a sidelong glance at Megan, who nodded back. She, in turn, glanced over to the Imperial Guardsman who held her swords under one arm.

  The two sisters stood toe-to-toe. “That little girl is innocent,” Ayala said. “And those other people? They’re not even members of the family.”

  Empress Adela pursed her lips. “This is all for you, sister.”

  Ayala shook her head. “No. This is all for you and your hate.”

  Adela sighed. “Fine.”

  Adela turned and looked over the group. A few young men. Two women. A little girl. She half-turned back.

  “Damon!” she shouted.

  Damon stepped out from the shadows behind the throne. “Hey, Doug!” he said brightly. “Good to see you again.”

  Doug’s only reply was a scowl.

  “Take the little girl to one of the rooms upstairs. The woman too, I suppose.”

  Rebecca looked at Doug, stricken. He gave her his best reassuring smile. Frankie looked up at Doug. He kneeled down and gave Frankie a kiss on the forehead.

  “Love you,” he said. “You’ll be fine. Rebecca will watch out for you.”

  Frankie nodded and calmly walked over to Rebecca and Damon. Doug thought it odd, how stoic she was being. Perhaps she had a bit of Megan’s steel heart in her after all.

  “What are you doing with my sister?” Nick said to Damon.

  Damon turned to glance at Nick with undisguised disdain. “Putting her away for safekeeping,” he replied as he walked off with Frankie and Rebecca in tow.

  Adela gestured to the Guardsmen. “Take the rest of them outside.”

  The lead Guardsman pointed in the direction of an arched doorway. “Do as the Empress says or your head will be rolling about on the floor.”

  “You guys sure like to threaten decapitation,” Doug said.

  The Guardsman pointed again in the direction of the doorway. The group dutifully filed out to the arena. The dusty arena was about half the size of a football field, surrounded by stone walls as high as a four-story building.

  “This is just like Attack of the Clones,” Kevin said, looking about.

  Megan suddenly pivoted on one foot and toward the Guardsman who carried her swords and arced a kick at his helmeted head. The force of the kick was enough to throw him off balance and the swords clattered to the floor. Megan picked them up just as quickly as they fe
ll. She stood and held a sword down towards the Guardsman’s neck. The other Guardsmen drew their own swords.

  Doug broke into a dead run, only to immediately be knocked down by Volitor's extended arm. Doug, his head swimming from the blow, looked up at Volitor. Somehow he knew a smile had formed under that heavy, blood-red armor.

  "I'm still going to kill you," Doug said.

  Volitor shook his head.

  Megan took a step back from the Guardsman. Rather than lopping off his head, she pivoted and drove a foot into his chest. She tossed a sword to Doug, who caught it just in time to parry a blow from Volitor.

  Megan spun her sword around and slashed at one Guardsman, who dropped to his knees, cradling his wounded arm. She jabbed the sword into the midsection of another Guardsman who fairly well leapt at her.

  Doug parried a thrusting attack from Volitor, while Megan slashed at another Guardsman with her Katana. He fell to the ground.

  The Empress raised an open hand as it began to glow a bright purple. Ayala took a few steps back and did the same. Adela shot out a bolt of energy. It narrowly missed Ayala and exploded against the wall behind her. The two women shot out bolt after bolt. Suddenly, Adela’s eyes began to glow. She raised both hands and shot forth a powerful beam of light.

  The bright beam struck Ayala square in the chest. She screamed as she dropped to her knees, enveloped in the purple fire. Megan turned abruptly at Ayala’s scream, then twisted slightly and drove her foot into the midsection of the last Guardsman. He fell off his feet and onto his back. Megan leaped and her flying side kick dropped the Empress onto her back. Ayala fell back too as the enchanted flames dissipated. Megan rushed to her side. The old woman’s face was burned beyond recognition, but her eyes still gleamed with life for another moment. She grasped Megan’s wrist just as her strength left her for the last time.

  “Little girl?” came a voice from above.

  Megan turned to see the Empress floating some twenty feet above the ground, her hand glowing bright.

  Doug dodged another sword thrust and answered with a swipe at Volitor’s head. The sword solidly connected instead with Volitor’s armored shoulder. Volitor grunted and stepped back.

  Doug smiled. “I hurt you, you son of a bitch.”