Date: Sat, 22 Mar 2014 23:28:05 +0000
From: Enchanting Enchanter <enchantingenchantor@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Enchanter's Storybook: Chapter Fourteen

All the usual rules apply, kids. Just read the last chapters if you need
them because I can't be half-arsed. Let's rename the series to The
Enchanter's Half-Arsed Storybook, that's how lame I actually am. I FEEL
OBLIGATED TO INFORM YOU TO NOT BE SO TIGHT WITH MONEY AND DONATE TO
NIFTY, NAZIS STILL EXIST AND THEY STILL HATE THE JEWS. PERSONALLY, I
ADMIRE JEWS, I ADMIRE HOW THEY CAN MANAGE NOT TO SPEND ALL THEIR MONEY
WITHIN MINUTES OF RECEIVING IT! DON'T BE LIKE THE STEREOTYPICAL JEW AND
DONATE!

I know last time I seemed like one seriously arrogant British gimp but I
was feeling especially patriotic that day, and even more Anti-American
than I usually am, I only meant half of what I said. No, actually, I
fully stand by my statement. Sorry I'm not sorry. I won't get lost in a
rant about something useless and I'll just start the bloody story.

The Enchanter's Storybook: Chapter Fourteen

"I... I think we should talk about what happened." Darius didn't dare
look  at him as he said those simple words.
"What do we need to talk about?" he replied, turning at the table to face
him. "I don't know what we're supposed to say about it."
"Whether or not we should... you know... you know..."
Marcus did know, but he found himself easily wishing he didn't. What
they'd done, he didn't know whether or not it was the right thing to do,
or whether or not he wanted to do it again. He didn't know what it meant,
if it meant he was what the villagers back in the past had discussed.
"But what about... the villagers..." He found himself unable to form full
sentences at that point.
"You heard what Varia said. Humans think everything that's different is
wrong, well they were wrong, everyone in that stupid village was wrong. I
don't understand how they could stand there in those streets and scream
about the gods, and how it was wrong to disobey the words ascribed in a
book that was probably written by pathetic little men that just wanted to
keep control! Fuck the villagers, and fuck what they say! They think that
love is wrong if it isn't been a man and a woman, but if it's true, then
why does it feel so right?"
Marcus could do nothing other than smile. The words he was hearing, they
helped him so much. They helped him realise himself, he was in love. And
it wasn't with a girl. And that made his smile only grow wider.
Darius stood, smiling back, and stepped closer and closer to him.
Suddenly, there he was, right before him. Their faces inched closer and
closer together, their noses touched, and their lips brushed lightly over
the others. Marcus knew it was right.
-------------
The walls were thin, glass was easy to manipulate, especially obsidian
glass. It was almost tempting for Varia to live a little wilder and slap
her ears to the wall and eavesdrop on the juicy secrets of the three
queens.
She forced a strand of her curled, dangling red hair from her face, and
made a decision: she was going to. After all, what harm could they
possibly inflict upon an immortal?
The three queens were renowned for how they ruled the ominous Witchlands.
They were three of the Seven Wonders, ruling one single kingdom, but it
was well established that the Witchlands were inexplicably beyond the
simplicity of one kingdom. Ever since the undeniably embarrassing defeat
of Mankind's Empire hundreds of years past, the Witchlands had blossomed
like new spring flowers, and became the largest, most flamboyant flower
in the entire garden. And for that one kingdom to be ruled by three of
the Seven Wonders just further proved to Varia that the Witchlands
dominated the Known World. Varia smiled to herself knowingly, she had a
sudden thrill knowing how powerful she was, and how powerful her country
was. She considered the Witchlands the strongest kingdom in the world, it
was not to be messed with, the Trollsterf was no more than a dainty
scraping of dung dangling on the lush pubic bush that was this beautiful
kingdom. She laughed to herself, and to her use of the words "lush pubic
bush." Then again, the Witchlands had some strong opposition as a world
leader. The trolls had been conscripting millions more soldiers, and it
became common knowledge that a village of trolls had been attacked by a
witch of the Purgadorian Witch Guild and her three unidentified
companions. The rumours spreading were that Daisy, Darius and Marcus were
imps, and that made Varia chuckle. Trolls were so unbelievably stupid.
There were tensions growing between witches and trolls, and the thought
of a war was looming on the midsummer horizon. But the trolls were
pathetic and disgustingly stupid, albeit in numbers, they were a serious
nuisance. Fairies, they were the true enemy, in her eyes. The Fairylands
were growing, their armies expanding, and their territories were spanning
into parts of the Known World that the witches hadn't even heard of.
Fairies were a different kind of powerful, an odder kind of magic. While
witches dabbled in witchery and trolls dabbled with mud-magick, fairies
played with darker forces, a much more uncommon kind of sorcery: magique.
Fairy magique wasn't a physical force, like witchery or mud-magick, it
was imaginary, it attacked the mind and tainted the free will of all, it
was a dream-like and fanciful kind of torment that was tricking,
inescapable, and most of the time, highly incurable. Considering fairies
were nothing more than the size of Marcus, if they were lucky, they were
definitely a force to be reckoned with.
"The boy stays," the voice of Lavender beseeched from beyond the glass
wall.
"The immortality must be bestowed upon us," Lilac agreed. "I say we throw
him in the Tower until he reveals the secrets of his craft."
There was a noise, Varia heard it clearly. It was the screech of Queen
Violet. "He is a boy, he does not know what his powers are, how to use
them, and how to control them, so do not dare presume that it is a craft,
it is a skill that the three of us should be glad to possess. We should
ask him graciously, and allow him to leave."
The other two queens gasped dramatically. "No. So he can travel the world
handing out immortality to any of its seekers? I think not, Sister Queen.
I say we lock him in the tower, the boy will break rather easily, and
then we shall unlock his secrets, and reverse engineer the power to
reclaim the immortality in himself and Varia, killing them all, and
bringing ourselves to the cusp of immortality."
Violet expressed her outrage in the form of a squeal, a scurry of feet,
whispering of spells, and suddenly, the obsidian wall that hid Varia from
view shattered. The room lay bare before her, the three queens staring at
her, albeit Violet could not see her.
"I do apologise," she murmured, turning to leave.
"Varia. Run." Those two simple orders from Queen Violet where enough to
have her running in a wisp of red hair and black leather.
"Stop her!" one of the others screamed, but the last Varia had seen,
Violet had frozen Lilac where she stood, and a battle ensuing between
Lavender and Violet raged.
"Sister, lower your hands!" Violet screeched, as the power seeped from
her fingertips in the form of violet smoke.
"Never!" Lavender screeched in reply, her own fingers imbued with
lavender flames that licked through the smoke with ease. "You will die
for this, knowing I, the True Queen of Witchkind, shall become immortal!"
But Violet did not die, and Lavender did not become the immortal queen.
Varia's dagger dipped slowly yet forcefully into Lavender's back,
slashing her heart and killing her slowly. Her lavender dress stained
red, her lavender licking flames died away, and the Seven Wonders soon
became six.
"You will die," Violet screamed, "knowing you have lost."
A sick laugh spurted from Lavender's lips, thick with blood, and her body
decayed into ash and scattered into nothing.
Queen Lilac overcame the freezing enchantment, screaming, "Treason! A
Queen is dead! Guards! Treason!"
Varia blasted the third Queen into a wall of glass, shattering it,
grabbed the wrist of Queen Violet and tugged her from the room.

*Slams the Storybook shut, stuffing it into the wonderfully enchanting
cloak of the enchanting enchantor, ripping off aforementioned cloak,
folding it neatly, and stuffing it into a shoebox for safekeeping* Why a
shoebox, you ask? Well, because I'm the Enchanter, THAT'S WHY!

Thanks for reading, dearies, come back next time, or continue reading if
the next chapter is out already. I hope you enjoyed this,

Yours Sinfully,

The Enchanter