Date: Fri, 11 Jul 2014 05:37:54 +0100 From: Enchanting Enchanter Subject: The Enchanter's Storybook: Chapter 15 I realise that it was about a year ago that I actually started this little thing, and honestly, I'm not really sure if people are even reading it anymore, but I have a great time writing it so I will continue anyway. I guess if you liked it you can let me know so I know people still give a shit. OFFICIAL NOTICE: I know, I know, I'm a shitty writer who writes really little chapters and doesn't bother to update months at a time, but let me explain that it was mainly because I'm a full-time college student, but please note that now, during the summer break (and other official breaks) I have so much free time that I will be uploading VERY frequently once again. I am sorry, bare with me, and sometimes I completely forget I'm even writing these stories and need to be reminded, so PLEASE DO FEEL FREE TO REMIND ME OF MY OBLIGATIONS AS A WRITER TO UPLOAD EVERY FEW WEEKS, JUST IN CASE I DO FORGET! Thanks for sticking with me this long, guys, it means a lot. Here are the rules to reading my story: 1: No under-aged kiddies sexually confused, openly gay, or whatever. Either you're of an appropriate age or get out. But, just between us, I can't and won't stop you. 2: If you're lawfully restrained from reading gay literature then don't read it, but, again, I won't stop you. It's clearly your country's fault (Hi Russia, Hi Uganda, etc) for being so closed-minded. We are, after all, in a post-modern world, I can't stop you, but I have warned you. 3: Read the previous chapters if you want to understand the story. 4: Donate to Nifty if you enjoyed this story. 5: Break the rules if you want, kids. I myself am a nonconformist and do so myself. Now I'll get on with the shit: The Enchanter's Storybook: Chapter 15 Varia could not believe what she had just done. She had committed one of the worst crimes known to witchkind, she had not only dared to defile the home of the three queens of the Witchlands, but she had stolen the life of one of the most powerful, precious and protected witches in the known world. She was astounded with herself. "I've committed treason," she hummed to herself silently. She knew that there was no way she was getting out of this alive. She had to be hanged, although what could they actually do to a treasonous immortal? The answer itself was: very little. And while that should have comforted her, it didn't. "The bitch deserved it!" Varia's mouth dropped. She couldn't believe what she had just heard. The holy mouth of Queen Violet had just cursed her fellow Sister Queen. Did she hear correctly? She couldn't have. "Excuse me, Your Majesty?" "You heard me," Violet replied squarely, taking Varia's hand. It was soft and warm, starting to wrinkle but only slightly. Violet's age was a mystery to many, she hid her face so well that none were able to see if it was blemished with wrinkles or age spots. "What will happen to me?" she asked, looking over at her queen guiltily. "Nothing, if the Gods are good. My sister was cruel and cold, she thought only of herself. You heard her in her final moments, she was stricken with an unquenchable thirst. She had the very audacity to declare herself Queen of the Witchlands. She was planning to commit treason herself, against me and Lilac. She deserved her death, but perhaps even a more painful one. She was the devil incarnate, and we only did the godly justice of sending her back into her fiery domain." The small slit in her head-robe allowed Varia to see the graceful eyes of Queen Violet, eyes that so few before her had had the pleasure of seeing. Blind as a bad and a colour like curdled milk, yet the things those eyes could see were enough to turn most witches mad. "Bitch or not, a queen is dead, and someone is to blame. I am to blame. I stole the life of a Majesty, of one of the Seven Wonders! I am damned, am I not?" She felt the tears coming, she had never felt so weak and desolate in all her miserable existence. Her country was the only thing she truly cared for, and she had betrayed it. She wanted repentance. Violet's hand struck her clear across the cheek, enflaming it red and purple and blue, the blow was so hard that it bruised. "Do not go weak on me now, Varia! Grisella has told me of your skill, you are the post talented, the most powerful witch in the Purgadorian Guild, and not only that, but now you are immortal. I hate to be blunt, but get over it. You cannot be harmed." "I am immortal, I can still feel pain, I can still be harmed!" she screamed back, suddenly angry that she had been struck for no decent reason. She regained her composure rather quickly. The blinded queen sighed and stood from her creaking wooden chair. "There is a clause, in the Seven Wonders. There can only be Seven Wonders, not eight, and certainly not six. When a wonder is killed, another must take their place. Traditionally, if a wonder is murdered, their murderer themselves take the title of wonder. If you want it, you can be proclaimed one of the Seven Wonders, one the seven most powerful creatures in existence. In doing so, you become absolved of all crimes. Now, we have only minutes before the guards bombard my chamber, so we must decide what you are going to do." "Very well," she said, fully regaining herself. She, too, rose swiftly from the chair, flamboyantly throwing her long red locks over her shoulder with an empty smile on her face, and the blood of the dead queen still drying on her hands. ----------------------------------- They woke up beside each other, encased in the arms of the other. Marcus never thought in a million years that he would be here, in this situation, wrapped up in the warm and loving arms of his best friend, Darius. His own dreams were never so sweet, for not even his mind knew how painstakingly in love he was with his best friend. Gazing over at his face, breathing lightly, watching his chest rise and fall, having the absolute pleasure of looking into those closed, beautiful eyes, at his soft pink mouth. He was clinging to the idea of suddenly kissing him, kissing him like he had last night, and the night before, and hopefully, for all nights to come. His eyes suddenly popped open, brown like the chocolate his grandmother used to give him if he was a good boy. But Marcus soon came to discover that chocolate did not exist outside of the bitter remains of mankind. Apparently, it was a human delicacy, and was looked down on amongst the magical creatures that now controlled the known world. Still, that did not, and that could not, ever, stop him from looking deep into those eyes and smelling chocolate, tasting it on his tongue, feeling everything he felt for this boy bursting inside of him. He was a giddy, love-sick teenager, and he couldn't be happier that way. "Morning," Darius said lazily, turning onto his back to hide his face behind the soft, swan-feathered cushions. "Well good morning to you too, Darius!" They both jumped in fright and fell off of the bed, scrambling on top of each other and climbing hastily to their feet as they recognised that voice. Daisy. "Ugh," Darius sighed. "I know you two are the best of friends and everything, but I'd like to imagine a world where I can wake up without you being here, just me and Marcus, so can you at least get the Hell out for five minutes so I can appreciate what I have?" Blushing, Marcus kissed him quickly on the lips, before turning to Daisy. "What is it?" he asked gently. He'd recently discovered the Daisy had some hidden powers of her own, and among them were her tendencies to get very upset, very fast. Everyone tried to avoid making Daisy upset. "It's... Varia," she said slowly, suddenly looking to the ground shyly. "What about her? Is she unwell?" "Uhm. Not exactly. It's rather a long story..." She waited patiently before she continued, "She may or may not have murdered one of the queens, she may or may not be placed on trial for murder and high treason, and she may or may not have done it all to save you." Marcus took a double take. "To save me? Why?" "As it turns out, Queens Lavender and Lilac were planning on arresting and torturing you to uncover the dark secrets of your powers, but were interjected by Violet and Varia, who, together, managed to kill Queen Lavender and silence Queen Lilac. The trial is happening... right now... in the throne room." By the time the odd little trio of extant humans had found their way to the throne room, the trial was nearing its end. The room itself was huge, surrounded by hundreds of jurors all encircled around one single, ghost-like judge, with Varia and Queen Violet encapsulated in the centre of it all. "The jury has officially reached its verdict," the judge called out, his voice dead and echoing silently throughout the entire room. "Usually, in situations of high treason, the queens themselves would come to judgement. Due to the nature of the offence, I, Chancellor of Justice over the Witchlands, am hereby bound by oath to place judgement upon the accused." Marcus watched with fear in his eyes, fear for his friend and fear of what will become of the miracle boy who can grant those immortality if he had no protector, and fear for Darius, if he tried to stop those who would seek to use his gift like Varia had tried with the queens. His heart was pounding against his ribs. "I henceforth decree Varia guilty of murder and high treason of Queen Lavender of Purgador. However, as Queen Violet has repeatedly informed us, the deceased had plans of her own to seize power and convert our kingdom of a triarchy into a monarchy, making herself the singular queen and banishing her fellow sister queens. With this in mind, my judgement is clear. Varia, rise anew, queenslayer, immortal, and Seventh Wonder. As with such proclamation, Varia, as one of the Seven Wonders, is hereby absolved of her crimes, and is beyond the justice of all mortals. That is my final verdict. Now all of you, get out. A queen is dead, pay your respects." It seemed like everyone in the room let out a long, drawn-out sigh of relief. Lavender must have been the most hated of all of the queens, if none seemed even remotely tarnished by her sudden murder. "A QUEEN IS DEAD! And you allow her guilty murderer to roam free? Judge Vaskare, I beseech you as Queen of the Witchlands to arrest this woman and execute her! Lavender is dead, you fools! Knights of the Order, Witches of the Guild, seize this red-headed demoness and send her back to Hell!" Queen Lilac screamed so suddenly, her voice echoing over the silent halls. "Are you quite finished, Lilac?" Judge Vaskare responded dully, his voice empty of emotion. "My judgement is final. She is beyond control of mere mortals now, as one of the Seven Wonders, such as yourself. She is absolved. Let us all not forget how much Lavender was despised. I believe I speak freely here when I say that she shall not be missed." He rose from his chair and hobbled away with a grunt, looking daggers at any who dared to face him. "What does that mean?" Darius asked him. "We can leave," Marcus decided. "It means... we're free. We're free!" Suddenly, his lips found Darius', his hands found themselves running through his silky black hair. Their bodies pushed together, and in that quick moment, they were the only two people in the room. To most, it seemed like one soft, simple kiss. But to these two, it was so much more than that. It was their future together, a future that they could only hope would be filled with magic and wonder. Never before in his life had Marcus felt more proud about loving Darius, regardless of gender or age. Those factors did not matter, nor would they ever again. But just like that, his happiness crumbled like ash into his hands, so simply had his life turned to smoke. Their kiss was interrupted, they broke apart. "What is happening?" Darius screamed, but the entire room had suddenly gone dark. The windows cracked and shattered, and through from outside flew in smoke thick and as black as death itself. It shivered in and surrounded them. And in the midst of it all, stood a little blond-haired boy with a fate darker than he knew. Darius could barely see what was happening, but still, he knew. One moment, Marcus lay perfectly in his arms, where he felt safest, and the next, Darius felt him slowly sucking away. As his eyes opened and their kiss tore apart, all he could see were the eyes of the creature staring back at him. The creature that he once called his friend. But this was no longer Marcus. It was no longer the little boy he had grown up with, the little boy with light blond hair and ethereal blue eyes. These eyes were black and empty, void of all feeling, of all love. And as they stared back at him, Darius knew that their kiss had somehow awoken the darkness that dwelt within the shy little boy from the Rocky Pass. Slowly, the body of what was once Marcus Mallow descended into the air. His arms outstretched, his neck twisted so that he was facing the ceiling, his mouth wide open. He floated in the very centre of the room, surrounded in heavy black fog that shrouded the screams of hundreds. From his open mouth spat fire, black as hate, endless scorching flames that ate and tore and burnt at everything nearest. The empty boy began to spin in mid air, tossing flames everywhere, and nothing Darius could do would stop it. All around, the fire engulfed witches whole, swallowed and scorched and melted away at living beings in seconds. One slight touch of the murderous black flame spitting from Marcus's mouth, and their skin twisted and blotched and blisters, melts and dribbles off of bone. Screams of the dead and dying filled the air. A hand found his, Daisy's. "WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE!" she screamed. "I'm not leaving him!" Darius asserted. "Derek," Varia began, making Darius sigh, "I'm sorry to have to do this." Hard, fast, and with mercy, she clubbed him in the back of the head and grabbed him by his legs. Daisy, grabbing him by the shoulders, slowly began to carry him from the room. The doors flew shut, fast, as dozens of people rushed to flee the scorching flames. From the centre of the room, the darkness pointed his fingers right at the three of them, tormented black flames spitting from his fingertips and shooting directly at them. But before they reached their target, the flames vanished into smoke and fled. From mid-air, he fell, and his small, motionless body collided with the floor. The thick, black smog sucked away from the room, leaving in its wake a pile of hundreds of dead, burnt, and blackened bodies, amidst them all lay a little blond-haired boy consumed by his own darkness. *Snaps shut Enchanter's Storybook* There's no better feeling than bringing my characters to the cusp of a happily-ever-after, before I rip it away from them and leave them all stunned, tired, and feeling pretty shitty. But don't fret, even after that massive showdown, Marcus'll be fine. Probably. Hopefully. Only time will tell, so come back and read the next chapter, my clots. *Places Storybook down on the new coffee table I had imported from Italy worth $12,000, whereupon it magically transforms into a potato and rolls off into the sunset* Until next time, my wonderful, clotted cornish creampies, the Enchanter.