#(i do have plans to go back and talk to enara because i never do that and jump straight to mother's rise)

[hzdtrees]

Embrace

[another-aspiring-writer]

A Little Kidnapping and Forced Dinner Date Never Hurt Anyone

Here’s my first piece. There’s not really any whump in it, it’s just here to introduce the characters and set things up.

Tag list: @ashintheairlikesnow

I don’t think i need to add any warnings for this. Please let me know though!

Enara sat with her back pressed against the rigid wood of her chair. She glared at the boy seated across from her. Theo stared at the table between them, making a point to not look at her.

That was fine. Enara didn’t really want to look at his annoyingly blue eyes right then. She glanced around the room, looking for anything she could use to get out. They seemed to be in a private room of a restaurant. At least, that was the only reason she could think of as to why they were stuck in chairs across a table from one another, their wrists and ankles cuffed to their chairs. She’d been awake for ten minutes, and she already hated that stupid table with it’s stupid white tablecloth and candles and a single rose in a vase at the center.

Enara knew it was Theo’s fault they were there. She had no evidence, but she knew. It was just like him to do something stupid that got them both caught. When they got out, Enara was going straight to Eli and telling him she would never go on a mission with Theo ever again.

First, she just had to figure out how they’d ended up here to begin with. She remembered driving into town for groceries and then stopping at McDonalds. It got a little fuzzy after that, but Enara thought she remembered someone grabbing her from behind. If only she’d had her knife on her, but of course this was the one time she left it under her seat in the truck. Things wasn’t supposed to get confrontational. Not yet. No one was supposed to know her team was in the area. If they did, it would defeat the purpose of the term ‘under cover.’

“Are you finished looking at me like I’m the devil incarnate?” Theo looked up at her, and how were eyes that blue even possible?

“No.”

“Is there a reason for this glare of yours? Or have you just decided to try out a new resting face. Because I don’t think that’s a very good look on you. Maybe smile more. You can think of all the ways you’re going to kill me if you want.”

“Shut up!” she snapped, desperately trying to cover the smile forming on her lips. She was supposed to be mad at him! “If it hadn’t been for you, we would have finished our supply run without getting caught!”

“Oh, so I’m the one who got us caught? Because I clearly remember that you were the one who insisted we stop to get you french fries.”

“I did not! That was you who wanted them!”

“I did want them, but only because you wouldn’t shut up about how good McDonald’s fries are,” he frowned, “They’re not, by the way.”

“And they’re at it again,” a tired voice said. Enara twisted as much as she could in her chair to see the speaker.

“Eli!” She shouted upon seeing his familiar face. “Thank god you found me! Can you come uncuff me? My wrists hurt.”

Zoe stepped into the doorway behind Eli. She brushed a strand of her hair out of her face with a sigh, “Can we knock them out again? They were so quiet when they were unconscious.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Theo pulled against the cuffs around his wrists. “You’re—? Knock us out again? What the fucking hell?”

Zoe leaned against the doorframe with a smirk. “You heard me right. You two were being so annoying with this little dance you’re doing. So, Eli and I decided to speed up the process. You’re welcome.”

“We’re not . . . what are you . . .” Enara couldn’t seem to form words as fire spread across her cheeks. She was probably scarlet, she thought bitterly. “There’s no dance going on between us,” She finally said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I couldn’t care less if I never saw him again.”

“What she said,” Theo added, his face the same shade of red as hers.

“Well, Eli and I disagree. The tension between you two is palpable.”

Eli smiled, “I’ll get dinner then.”

“Where the fuck does he think he’s going?” Enara shouted as he left the room. When she got her wrists out of those cuffs, she was going to murder all three of her teammates.

Zoe crossed to the table with a laugh. She pulled a lighter from her pocket, flicked it, and a flame appeared at the top. “He just said he’s getting dinner,” Zoe reached for the candles, lighting one, then the other. After they were lit, apparently to ‘set the mood,’ she put the lighter back into her pocket.

Maybe if she knocked the candles over, Enara thought, she could start a fire and make their death look like an accident. That could work. She glanced at Theo, trying to read his face. He looked like he was contemplating their deaths also. Maybe she would let him live, if he helped her kill the other two.

Eli swept back into the room, a tray stacked with food balanced in his hands. It smelled amazing, and when it was set before her, Enara considered letting them live.

It looked so delicious — pasta and chicken in a pesto sauce with two breadsticks on the side of the plate. Maybe she would let them live. She was probably just hungry, and things would be better once she had eaten. And gotten out of those cuffs.

“We’ll be back to let you out in about,” Eli glanced at his watch, “Oh, let’s make it three hours. That should give you plenty of time to sort everything out.”

He turned from the room, Zoe on his heels.

“Wait,” Enara cried, “Aren’t you going to uncuff us?”

“Oh, right!” Zoe turned back to them, quickly uncuffing Enara’s left hand and Theo’s right hand. “It’s probably going to be awkward eating with your nondominant hand, but this way you’ll hopefully have a harder time using your silverware as weapons against us.” Zoe left the room, barely paused at the door, “Enjoy your evening, lovebirds!”

Never mind, Enara thought, they were going to die.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, staring at their plates. Enara had to do a weird shuffle forward to get her chair to move so she could reach the table, where she promptly picked up her fork.

The food was amazing, and she almost laughed at the situation she was in. She was tied up by her teammates in who-knows-where because she needed to ‘confess her feelings for Theo’ (which was not happening), but hey, at least the food was good.

“This was not how I imagined I would be spending my Friday night,” Theo said, finally breaking the silence.

Enara laughed, “No, I suppose it’s not how anyone would imagine their Friday night going.”

Theo poked at his noodles with his fork, pushing one around his plate. He glanced up at her, opened his mouth to say something, then closed his mouth. What could he say to her?

“I’m sorry—” they both started at the same time.

“You go first,” Enara offered.

“You sure?” He waited for her to nod before starting. “I, um, well. I guess I don’t know what I want to say. You’re just so . . . infuriating. And I hate how annoying you can be, which is why I try to annoy you. And it’s so easy to get under your skin. And then you make this face hat I just—there, you’re making it now when I’m not even trying to do anything.”

“Why do you always have to be right about everything?” Enara asked. She could feel her face heating again. How could he do that to her without doing anything? “I can’t stand how you’re always proving how right you are about every single little thing. People can be wrong once in a while, but you never are, and it’s just so infuriating.”

“I do that because I’m trying to impress you. You’re so creative and talented and smart. You’re good a tactics and fighting and all the undercover work you do. And I always manage to mess up something and Eli or Zoe have to come in and save me. Sometimes I just want to show you I can do things. That I’m not completely useless.”

“Oh.” Enara hadn’t thought about that. She’d never considered the possibility he was trying to impress her. How could she be somebody anyone wanted to impress?

They both stared down at their plates, the silence stretched on and on. Enara chewed on her lip. Was she really about to tell him this?

“I think I’ve been trying to impress you too.” She whispered.

“What?”

She looked up at him, brown eyes meeting blue ones. For once, the hostility one of them always seemed to have in their gaze was not there. “I— I think I’ve been trying to impress you. You never seem affected by anything and I have never once seen you mess up on a job. I do all the time. I have more mess ups than fingers to count them.”

Theo laughed, “So we both know we mess up all the time and neither of us notices when the other one does. Good to know.”

“I will definitely be keeping a closer eye on you now,” Enara smiled. For once, it looked like a genuine smile to Theo, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“So, can we agree to try to be more open to one another from now on?”

She shrugged, “Sure. And since we’re being open, I’m going to tell you that as soon as we get out of these cuffs, I will be murdering Eli and Zoe.”

“Don’t you worry, I will be helping with the murdering and disposal of all evidence.”

“Glad to know we’re on the same page.”

He nodded. “Agreed. And McDonald’s fries are actually pretty good,” he added, remembering their argument from earlier. How could that have that happened so recently? It felt like hours away. “I just wanted to annoy you earlier.”

“No they’re not. And you know it. There are so many better places to get fries.”

“Truce?” He asked.

“Fine, truce. But this does not mean that I’ve confessed my feelings for you,” she smirked, “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“Oh, definitely. No one can know Enara secretly has emotions. That would ruin everything.”

“Shut up,” she laughed.

“Okay, fine. But we still need to plan our payback.”

They leaned closer over the table as their plan took shape. They never expected their night to go this way, but neither were complaining now.

In the corner of the room, a security camera secretly feed their conversation to the room down the hall. Zoe leaned against a table, twirling a knife between her fingers as Eli leaned over the laptop on the table.

“Told ya they just needed a little alone time together,” Zoe said. She nudged Eli’s leg with her foot, “Look at them, thick as thieves and its only been forty five minutes.”

“Yeah, but now we have to deal with them working together to get back at us.”

Zoe waved her hand, “It’s fine, nothing we can’t handle. If we couldn’t get these two to work things out, then I don’t think we’d deserve to call ourselves spies.”

Eli looked up at her, annoyance written all over his face. He couldn’t argue with her, but he still didn’t like what Enara and Theo were planning. “When this backfires, it’s all your fault.”

“Whatever you say, boss. But for the next two hours and ten minutes we have nothing to worry about. Relax, everything’s going to be fine.”

Far across town, a woman laughed. She watched as the hazy image on her laptop flickered between the young couple cuffed at the table and the pair in the room down the hall. All four of them were sitting there under the assumption they had everything under control.

In reality, she was the one pulling the strings. And they didn’t know it yet, but she had them all right where she wanted them.

[chevalier-tialys]

Look to the Stars

Rating: Gen

Summary: Lee is offered help by a few witches, and finds himself in an even bigger problem than he was in before.

His Dark Materials Fan Week

Day six: thing you are most looking forward to about season two | Lee attending the witches’ council

[Read on Ao3]

The sky split open, and Lee knew deep in his bones that something had gone wrong.

Unfortunately, his balloon had taken a terrible hit during the storm, so he couldn’t go and scout out exactly what was going on. No doubt Serafina Pekkala was doing as much right now, while Lee got his balloon back to Svalbard with the help of a few bears. He didn’t see Iorek anywhere, but then hadn’t expected to be able to with his new rank as king. King Iorek Byrnison, Lee thought with a wry grin. He’d told Iorek years ago that he had royal blood, exile be damned, but the bear hadn’t really listened.

Lee would do anything to shove that memory into his friend’s face, but right now his priority was to get his balloon fixed somehow and go find Lyra.

A rush of wind at his side alerted him to Serafina’s presence. “Lord Asriel opened a bridge to another world,” she announced without preamble.

“I’m sorry, what?” He had not signed up for this nonsense, and even now he was only helping out for Lyra’s sake, but… other worlds? “How is that even possible?”

She shrugged helplessly. “I think it has to do with Dust, since he was reportedly researching it in incredible detail. I saw an airship docked by his laboratory – I assume his research is now under Magisterium control.”

“The Oblation Board…”

“Perhaps. It doesn’t bode well for us,” she admitted, sounding as close to troubled as Lee had ever heard her.

He sighed. “Did you find Lyra and her friend anywhere? Roger, I mean.”

Serafina’s expression twisted. “I found the boy’s body in the snow,” she said mournfully.

“Not dead?”

“I’m afraid so. And I found this beside him,” she added, handing over a scrap of blue fabric – Bolvangar uniform, Lee supposed. “I believe it’s Lyra’s.”

Lee’s eyes widened. “She was there?”

“Not when I flew there, no. But I assume she was, at some point before. She likely took the bridge into another world,” Serafina mused aloud.

He swore under his breath.

“That’s not the worst,” she added grimly. “I found something else there as well, and the image is… disturbing, at the very least.”

“Worse than Bolvangar?” Lee asked, only halfway sarcastic. When Serafina didn’t respond, his heart sank. “Miss Pekkala…”

“Intercision cages,” she said grimly. “With a manual lever. Mr. Scoresby, I believe Lord Asriel killed Roger Parslow when he – when he cut them, to open the bridge in the Aurora.”

Lee fell silent, horrified by the act. He couldn’t tell if he found it more sickening than the experimentation in Bolvangar, or less so. For one thing, Asriel must have had the guts to commit the act himself, so there was no impersonal automation controlling the guillotine. On the other hand, the kid’s murder had probably been instrumental to Asriel’s success, which meant that it was planned.

“Damn.”

“I did say this was bigger than anything we might have imagined,” Serafina responded, still grave.

“Yeah, but – worlds? None of us could have predicted this, except–”

 “A city in the Northern Lights,” Lyra said, peering up at the Aurora. She’d opted to lay beside him on the sled that carried his balloon and stargaze for a change, instead of trekking beside the rest of the gyptians. Lee hadn’t protested, the kid had to be pretty tired from all the walking and thinner air at this altitude. He might have been used to it by now, but her Oxford upbringing wouldn’t be.

“A mirage?” Lee had never really seen a mirage himself, but he’d heard the ranchers back in Texas talk about the heat-illusions on particularly hot days when they’d been on the road for a while. He much preferred lying to travelling across land, so it hadn’t really become relevant.

Lyra shook her head. “An actual city. My father, Lord Asriel, he took a photogram of it to show the Scholars in Jordan College. So I know I ‘ent imagining things.”

“I didn’t say that you imagined it, kid,” he grunted as he sat upright, craning his neck to look at the shifting lights. No matter how much he saw them, the view never got old. “But if others have recorded the sight, I suppose…”

“What?”

“Could be some celestial phenomenon,” Lee mused aloud. “That sort of thing happens sometimes, the Aurora can look like different shapes from certain angles. Once, it even looked like a freshwater trout.”

Lyra frowned at him. “No, it can’t have. That’s ridiculous.”

“It is ridiculous,” Hester agreed, nipping at Lee’s finger. He hissed and flicked her ear in return, leaning back against the balloon.

“I guess it is,” he said amiably. “But it probably could look like a trout one day. Who knows, you might have seen an actual city there too, like Asriel. Anything’s possible ‘round these parts.”

 Anything’s possible indeed, Lee thought.

“Mr. Scoresby?”

“Lyra knew,” he said sharply. “She said that Asriel recorded an image of the city in the Aurora. You don’t think…?”

“It’s possible,” she said slowly. “But there are hundreds of thousands of worlds to cross into, Mr. Scoresby, we can’t risk following her into a place we don’t know only to get lost ourselves.”

Lee sighed. “You’re right,” he conceded. “‘Sides, we probably need to get my balloon fixed first. Though how that can be done in Svalbard I have no idea.”

“You won’t need to fix it in Svalbard,” Serafina assured him. “I summoned the aid of my clan, so my sisters will take you to Lake Enara and assist you with it themselves.”

Lee’s eyes widened. “Miss Pekkala, this is – you don’t have to–”

“Perhaps not, but it’s always good to help people when they’re in need.” Serafina’s eyes glittered. “And as I told you earlier, the universe has greater plans for you, Mr. Scoresby. Helping you wouldn’t be as altruistic as it sounds if it helps save the world, or, if my suspicions are correct, worlds.”

“Because obviously I was worried about altruism.”

She laughed.

-*-

“Lee, stop pacing,” Hester scolded. “The witches are here to help you, it’ll be fine.”

“We’ll be fine,” Lee corrected pointedly. “We don’t know where Lyra is, or – or what’s happened to her. She could be injured, and she just lost her friend! Does she even know about that? She’s probably in a strange world, and I have no idea if she’s with safe company.” He kicked a tree root and swore when pain shot up his foot.

“Don’t,” he snapped when Hester moved to speak. She sighed, exasperated.

“Lee, you’re trying to help her. If there’s any way we can find her, it’ll be with the help of the witches. They know of these worlds already, remember? Even if they’ve never been in them.”

Lee nodded. “I know, I know, I’m just–”

“Worried,” Hester completed. “I get it. I’m worried about the kid too.”

“Of course you are, we’re the same person.”

“Lee.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he conceded. “Wait a minute – that’s not a witch from the Lake Enara clan.”

From the distance, a light blur whizzed into view, landing a few paces away from Lee. A witch, certainly, from a different clan – light where Lake Enara was dark, and, lucky him, also familiar.

“Miss Virtanen,” he greeted amiably. “It’s been a while.”

“Mr. Scoresby,” she returned enthusiastically. “How are you faring, I didn’t expect to see you at this council meeting.”

“It’s a weird time,” he answered honestly. “Wait – council?”

She nodded. “I’m sure you know the significance of inviting someone who isn’t a witch into these gatherings.”

Well. Yeah.

“I thought men weren’t supposed to be witness to councils?”

“Like you said, Mr. Scoresby,” she replied sadly, “these are strange times. My sisters are meeting with the Lake Enara clan to discuss what we’ve observed so far, and Queen Serafina tells us that you have some important information of your own.”

“I hope so,” he said. “I’m not sure how relevant it is, but I’d hate it to be insignificant in the end.”

“I’m sure it won’t be,” Lisaveta assured him. “I can sense the calling of fate about your daemon.”

“Witches can do that?” he asked dryly. She grinned sheepishly and nodded.

“Some of us pay attention to the energies of the world. Others find it more productive to study people. I can say with utmost confidence that I am gifted in the latter.”

He smiled, and then remembered what he was actually here for. “I’m here about the kid – Lyra,” he clarified. “Apparently, she’s meant to save the world, or something. I want to help her do it, but mostly I just want to find her.”

His old friend cast a scrutinizing look at him. “I’m not entirely sure who you speak of,” she said at last, “but I believe Queen Serafina has something to say about it when we convene at the glen. Though it seems an awful lot like you’ve found yourself a daughter.”

“This conversation lasted for barely a minute,” Lee said exasperatedly. She just looked at him expectantly, and he deflated. “Fine, you’re not wrong. But she hasn’t had much luck by way of parents, so if I find her and escort her through her journey, I won’t push on the subject.”

She nodded and started to move towards the secluded glen, turning around to make sure he followed. “It’s like I said before, Mr. Scoresby. I’m good at reading people, and I generally stick with my first impressions of people I meet, witches or otherwise. They tend to be a lot more accurate than getting to know them before making a judgement of their character.”

“Out of curiosity, could you read an armoured bear that well?”

“Probably not,” she said. “But I will admit that I have never tried. Perhaps when this is all over, I could speak to the Svalbard bears and try.”

“Sounds like a great idea,” Lee said. “To know who they are, and all that. I mean, Iorek’s my best friend, and even I don’t know what’s on his mind half the time. Bears are strange like that.”

“They are,” she agreed softly. “Then again, people are also remarkably capable of being strange, especially mortals – humans, that is.”

“I suppose we are,” Lee chuckled.

“But I stand by what I said about you,” she said, amused. “Lyra would be very lucky to have you on her side.”

He shrugged, feeling heat rush to his face. “Well. I just try to help, and the kid’s hard to dislike.”

“Which is more than most would do. You’re a good man, Mr. Scoresby, and I trust a queen’s judgement. If Serafina Pekkala says that you have an important role to play in the fate of the world, I would be inclined to believe her. And not simply because of her rank.”

“I’m flattered,” he said, baffled, “but I still don’t know why I’m here. I thought I was just supposed to stay till my balloon was fixed, but it seems like everyone has other plans.”

“Mr. Scoresby, I just got here,” Lisaveta said, amused. “But I do think it will be interesting to find out, don’t you agree?”

Lee snorted. “Interesting doesn’t begin to cover it.”

[shatteredskies042]

NaNo Day 7-8: New York

“So, do you think we can get some support here?” Michael asked the blonde, looking around slowly.

“I think I can get some of them to support us: they’re no fans of the angels and they love sticking it to the man whenever they can,” Ally stated, the sidewalk mostly empty in the afternoon. “It’s just up ahead,” she promised him.

As they advanced down the street, Michael spotted familiar building nearby: “I didn’t know this coven was close to the Continental.”

“The Continental?” she asked him curiously.

A wide smile bloomed over his face, “is it possible I know something about the secret underworld that you don’t know?” he teased.

“Maybe,” she huffed.

“The Continental is an embassy of sorts,” he explained. “Some of the finest assassins in the world come here, stay and relax, take jobs and prepare for the same.”

“Sounds volatile,” the blonde remarked.

“No business is conducted on the grounds,” Michael stated. “Safest building in New York. Even if they don’t like you, someone puts a move on you in the lobby, and a couple dozen guns will take that guy down.”

“Sounds like our kind of place,” the blonde smirked, leading him into cover from the rain under the eve of a building. “The witches are dangerous in their own way, and I think it’d be easier to get their support,” she told him, buzzing the intercom near the door. “Plus, they owe me,” she smiled.

“State your name and business,” a voice snapped over the intercom.

“It’s Allyson, I want to talk to the High Council,” she replied.

“And the human with you?”

“Will be coming inside,” Allyson responded, steel entering her voice.

“Allyson, you know the rules.”

“Have I ever been one to play buy them?” she asked, rhetorically. “Look, you can either open up, or we can enter and trash the place. And I think you guys want your deposit back when you find a new home,” Ally noted coldly. She knew what both of them were capable of, as did the witches.

Silence responded, until a loud click came from the door and it swung open. The two stepped inside, before the doors shut behind them. A quartet of black-clad women awaited them, looking at the pair. “Human, I am to relieve you of your weapons. They will be returned to you when you leave.”

Michael narrowed his eyes and shrugged, slowly drawing and clearing his weapon and setting it on a table. His pair of magazines followed, as did his pocketknife and combat knife. He stepped away, looking at the four, well aware he did not need his weapons to cause some damage.

“Is that everything?” they asked in unison, likely some tactic to unnerve him.

“It is. If you want to search me, you’ll probably have to get through her first,” he replied, looking to Allyson.

“No need. Follow us.”

Michael and Allyson did as they were bid, following two of them as the others fell in behind. They were boxed in, decent enough for preparing for an ambush, or ready to rush the pair if they did something uncouth. Michael kept his eyes looking around, and noticed a few figures moving in the shadows around them. Paranoia?

Ally, how many do you pick out following us? He asked her silently.

At least a dozen in side rooms, she replied, her senses far more sensitive that his were. They’re silent, but I can still hear breathing, she told him.

Think they’re scared? He wondered.

Security conscious. Their last coven was brought down from the inside, a witch hunter got inside and distracted them. He died when his comrades burned their home, but I couldn’t tell you how many of them died.

Lots of witches dead? Are they still an effective force? He asked.

They’re not front line troops, Michael, Ally told him as the group entered a wide elevator. We need support, to keep the operators in the fight, and their magic can help give us an offensive edge, she promised. I probably got us a bit of manpower in the lycan clans, I’ve got a group of them flying in from Germany too. They owe me a favor, she explained.

How well trained are they? Michael asked.

Some are ex-military, but almost all of them have weapons training. We can run training at the Farm when they arrive, she mused, but they’re capable fighters. They’ll make a good front line, with your operators behind them.

You’ve been thinking and strategizing, Michael noted, looking over at her with a smile.

This isn’t just my life on the line, she told him, returning the smile. I want as few of our people to die as possible.

Michael echoed the sentiment silently as the gold doors of the elevator slid open, and their escort detail led them towards a pair of wide doors. They were waved to enter the chamber, and the thick doors slid open silently. In passing, Michael noted how thick the doors were, built to survive breach attempts and a whole host of other assaults. Whoever ran their security knew what they were doing.

The room inside was windowless, shadows thrown in all but the very center of the room: Michael could make out chairs, but could not discern which were occupied and which were empty.

“I am sorry, Miss Allyson, the whole High Council could not be here today,” a voice rang out. “You understand, I’m sure.”

“They’re paranoid after what happened in Albany, I understand,” the blonde replied, striding with Michael in tow to the lit space in the center. “I trust they are listening?”

“Some of us are,” an accented voice replied, relayed through speakers. “It is simply not safe for the entire High Council to meet at once, you see.”

“What business do you have here, Allyson?” A present voice asked them from their right.

We’re surrounded, Michael thought, another tactic used to put them off balance. He closed his eyes and breathed steadily, letting Ally handle it.

“A war is coming to my shores. Heaven wants me dead. We intend to defy them,” Ally stated, “we’re putting together an army to confront the angels when they come marching.”

“We have heard,” another voice claimed, “news of the ambush of the American alphas has spread. We assume it is directly related to your mustering activities.”

“You assume correctly,” Ally said. “I know your people are not warriors. However, they can provide our troops the support and an edge to win this battle.”

“Humans, witches, and werewolves fighting together?” A present voice mused, “it sounds like a volatile combination.”

“Possibly, but we will work through any differences.”

“What do we stand to gain from this war, Allyson?” a voice demanded.

“Apart from slapping the faces of the archangels?” Ally replied, “knowing you took a stand and made a difference when it mattered.”

“If we fought for petty victories, why fight?” another asked, “their armies have uncountable numbers, they have been training for longer than any of us can fathom. We cannot win a fight with them, and we will be slaughtered if our involvement is revealed. And what of the political consequences if you do manage to pull out a win?”

Politics? Michael wondered, wondering where that factored into it.

“Politics is something we’ll deal with after,” Ally stated.

“You cannot just stand against the greatest army in the world and expect the world to be no different the day after should you miraculously succeed,” the same voice repeated.

“We are dealing with things one step at a time,” Ally told them, irritation in her voice. “You don’t plan your victory parade before the battle begins.”

“And what of the human you brought here, Allyson. The latest pet of yours dragged into your mess?”

“Why don’t you step forward and say that?” Michael replied, his eyes narrowing and preparing for a fight.

“Violence does not solve all your problems, human,” a voice scolded.

“You’re clearly not using enough then,” he shot back.

“Who even are you, human?”

“My name isn’t important, my actions are.”

“Like what?” one snorted, “what could you have possibly accomplished in your short life?”

Michael smirked, “I don’t suppose any of you enjoyed the Full Moon Ball earlier this year, at Enara Fortress. I had a hand in keeping sure it was safe. The attack on Heaven a few weeks ago, the man who embarrassed the guards there? You’re looking at him. Madame Von Portia, her quest to become a lich? I was there when we destroyed her and her tether to this world. Now, are you going to get off your high horse and get down to business?”

“Why do you never pick the good men, Allyson?” an exasperated female voice asked.

“Because our definitions are different,” the blonde shot back. “He’s the best man I know.”

“Of course he is, you’ve been manipulating his soul for how many centurie-”

“Enough!” Michael shouted. “We’re done here. You’re more interested in your petty dominions and feuds than the real work. You people have made your case clear, all I can ask is that you stay out of our way.” With that, he turned on his heel, with Allyson moving beside him as they walked to the door.

“Or what?” one of them asked.

“Or the destruction of your last coven will be the very least of your tragedies,” Ally promised cryptically.

The doors slid open, and Michael and Ally stepped out and headed straight for the elevator. Accompanied by the quartet that had seen them enter, no one said a word. A pin could be heard falling in the room, and a sudden move would end in combat. They reached the bottom floor, and Michael began to collect his weapons while their guards peered on. As he secreted his extra magazines and knives back on his person, the clicking of many shoes echoed across the floor.

Ally turned to face the approaching group, squaring her stance and narrowing her eyes. A large group of witches strode into the lobby, all looking at the pair.

“Is it true, Allyson?” a blonde at the head of the group asked. “About?” the angel replied.

“You and your boyfriend fighting Heaven,” she clarified.

“We intend to,” she stated as Michael stepped up beside her. “You know that the High Council has withheld their support, Carla?” she told the young witch.

“The Council didn’t want to do anything after our home was destroyed. They saved their skins first, didn’t bother with the rest of us,” she snarled bitterly. Looking her over, Michael could see the raised and reddened scars wrought by fire, matched with the flaming intensity of her eyes.

“Carla Mortoria,” one of the four guards that had escorted Michael and Ally to the Council stated, interposing themselves between the witches and the pair. “The High Council has forbid any witch under their rule to participate in this affair.”

“Just because those old hags don’t want to take a stand doesn’t mean we don’t,” Carla shot back.

“Speak well of your elders,” the guard snapped, “you owe everything to them. We all do.”

“I left my idolization of them at the same place I got these,” she venomously stated, raising her arms to show the horrific burn scars that resided there.

“Going further may be considered treason, Miss Mortoria,” the guards said in unison.

“Speaking the truth is a crime now?” she asked, mock surprised. “I wanted to expect more from the elders, so wise and knowledgeable. Instead I put my trust in those willing to let the rest of us burn to save their own skins, more interested in bickering and controlling their people than leading.”

“Let it be known,” Ally’s voice rang out, stepping forward. “That any witch seeking refuge will be granted it at the Goddess Island Institute. The accommodations aren’t the greatest, but we can work on it,” she promised. “At the very least, you’ll be safe somewhere with people to protect you.”

“Furthermore,” Michael added. “Any witch under our roof is under our protection, and there’s nowhere you can hide if you threaten it.” He turned to look into a camera, that he knew the Council was watching from. “Impede us or threaten any of us in any way, and I will bring this building to the ground.”

The guards turned then, each addressing Michael: “leave, human.”

The look in his eyes was clear as he looked back at them, daring them to try it, instead only met with passive resistance. “Let’s go then,” he announced, heading for the doors. In step behind him fell Allyson, and the group of young witches.

Words: 2,133

Total: 11,565