As a two-hundred-and-forty-year-old witch, Cameron Shadebane had seen faer fair share of royal proclamations; you didn’t survive multiple purges without being at least somewhat aware of what was going on in the wider world.
They were always pretentious bollocks of course, poorly worded drivel issued by whatever feckless spawn of incest sat their boney ass on the throne. This time though, Cameron had been begrudgingly forced to admit that the current boney ass was a bit cleverer, or perhaps was the puppet of someone a bit smarter than usual. Probably the latter, Cameron thought, as fae looked closer at the rune woven proclamation, and held it up to the light to see the eldritch writing beneath. Yup, some charlatan had weaved a curse of binding into the fibres which would trigger whenever a witch, warlock or any other magic user read it.
Cameron frowned and muttered to faerself. “Weird, that it didn’t activate when I read it. Probably would have got me if it worked, let’s see what these tower-educated idiots actually wrote here.”
With a last regretful glance at faer abandoned cup of tea, Cameron turned faer attention to the mass-produced document. Something odd was going on here, and Cameron was sure fae should read the rest of the proclamation sooner than later.
His royal majesty, ruler of the city, king of the lands… etcetera… Renews his mother’s pledge to destroy magic…
Cameron suppressed a wave of rage as fae thought of the dead queen who had stolen faer familiar so many years ago and took a second to slow faer breathing before fae continued.
More waffling nonsense…Something about users of unorthodox magic being bound and summoned? Well, that’s a spicy kind of rude, and yet…
Cameron focused and muttered an incantation under faer breath to channel a stream of magic through faer hands, lighting up faer ancient flesh as it scanned for any traces of the curse within.
“…not a trace on me, there’s gotta be something sloppy in here somewhere…”
A thought trickled into Cameron’s parched brain and following faer hunch, fae re-read the offending section and burst out laughing. Once fae had recovered enough to stand Cameron wiped the tears from faer eyes and headed to the door of faer hut. Xilian was going to get a hell of a kick out of this idiocy.
***
Xilian’s lair was a four-day hike away, the terrain messily transitioning from the dark enchantment of Cameron’s Forest into the blasted acid strewn wastelands around Xilian’s tower. The hike would require a brave adventurer to slay wolf and lizard, swim across great lakes and scale sheer cliffs of basalt. The journey alone was a test of skill, intellect and luck that killed almost everyone who attempted it. It was a nigh impenetrable moat of deadly dangers designed by the reclusive warlock. Of course, that was far more effort than Cameron was willing to undertake, so instead fae drew a rough triangle with faer staff and teleported to Xilian’s front door instead.
Arcane energy crackled around Cameron as fae arrived in an explosion of green light and a flurry of fleeing wildlife. As the animals scattered and the power dissipated, Cameron swayed on the spot, the adrenaline of casting draining out of faer with the spell’s completion.
“Damn it, I knew I should have finished that cup of tea.”
Xilian answered the door with aplomb, their beady eyes squinting through thick cracked glasses as they stared at Cameron. “Bloody typical, first time I get a lay-in in weeks and you turn up at the crack of dawn to wake me up! Look at the sun! It's outrageous”
They took a second to shade their eyes from the midday sun, paused and scratched the mass of red streaked hair under their chin. “Or midday? Whatever! That’s just as bad! What do you want anyway?” They shook an accusatory finger at the gawking witch.
A wide smile broke across Cameron’s face at the gesture. “I’ll tell you... in exchange for a cup of your finest tea!”
The warlock sighed and stepped to one side with a gesture. “Fine, fine, I guess you may as well come in at this point.”
Cameron just smiled and swept through the doorway, and into the squalid stairway of the interior. As fae climbed the steep basalt stairs faer eyes scanned the familiar detritus: a half dozen desiccated demons, stacked atop books of blackened leather chained shut against screaming fang filled maws. Cameron shuddered at the sight; it was a useful reminder of why fae’d chosen the path of the witch and anxious for a distraction fae turned faer attention to the suspicious addition to the warlock’s face.
“So Xilian, what’s with the beard? You told me you couldn’t grow one!”
Xilian shrugged and paused to gesture at the reddish mass. “Oh, I still can’t. This is Jasper, last week he decided that my face was the perfect nesting place... and well, for a fox he has quite the stubborn streak, and err, rather sharp claws…” The warlock’s commentary stalled as they waited for Cameron to explain faer arrival.
Fae just smiled and held out the proclamation.
“Guess which idiot king sent me a cursed proclamation which only affects people who use he and she…”
Xilian snatched the proclamation from Cameron’s hands, silencing faer angry retort with an absent-minded wave as they summoned a pool of writhing blueness with their free hand. They waited for a moment as the blueness swirled into a smooth ball, its dangerous currents locked down by the strength of Xilian’s willpower as they analysed the glassy sphere for any sign of imperfections.
Content that the energy was under control, Xilian snapped their fingers whilst Cameron watched the fancy little warlock do their thing with bated breath. It was very rare for Cameron to see Xilian use magic in a new way, and fae watched closely in case fae needed to steal their technique for later. As fae watched, Xilian channelled the blueness down into the enchanted material; looked the intently focused Cameron directly in the eye and subvocalised a few words in a language fae could not understand.
Cameron cursed under faer breath as Xilian’s unknown spell took effect, the pair had been finding ever more devious ways to steal each other’s spells for years and it was always irritating to miss an opportunity. Cameron would just have to figure out what language it was and steal it later. Xilian noticed faer frustration, winked and extended their hands to release the secret spell.
The magic manifested instantly; a map of the nation drawn in the air on strands of brilliant sapphire, crisscrossed with a spiderweb of interwoven cyan.
“Ah! Yes!” Xilian took the view in with a glance, quickly ending their spell with another snap of their fingers as they began to explain. “They are all like that, every single one. Someone out there is powerful enough to curse a thousand of these things in one go, but not smart enough to do it right. Sounds like the king’s aide to me…”
Cameron jumped to faer feet and began to gesticulate excitedly.
“Oh, this is delicious! That scrawny nerd renewed the palace wards last year! Seems like he has some gaps in his skills doesn’t it! I doubt you or I would even be affected by a single spell he cast!”
Xilian grinned back, mischief whirling in their eyes clasping a hand to their chest in mock shock.
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“Oh my, you might be correct! What a travesty, it is fortunate is it not, that this was discovered by proud patriots like us, rather than some mischievous pranksters who would seize the opportunity to cause the royal family undue embarrassment!”
Cameron gave a squeal of delight and spun a jaunty white hat into existence with a flick of faer wrist and a burst of magic
“Why of course my dear Xilian you are right! We shall have to become inspectors! White hat activists out to check our noble king’s security systems before any such villains take advantage! And if perchance we should find, say, a lost familiar stolen by the previous monarch, well, naturally we would be honour-bound to return it to its rightful owner…”
Xilian stroked their fox musingly. “Naturally if we were to hypothetically find such a thing had happened, we would simply have to, but that’s for later! First – I think we need a costume change!”
***
Cameron drummed faer fingers against the shiny steel of faer girlfriend's wardrobe, it had been the same with faer boyfriend's; layers of anti-witch warding covering the whole thing! So astonishingly rude that two partners would try to keep faer from borrowing clothing! Cameron had begrudgingly accepted defeat from faer boyfriend's wards; the tall white stilettos had not been worth the light scolding fae would suffer, but it would hardly do for fae to break into the royal vault without a stylish crime outfit! Even Xilian knew that!
Fortunately, there was still the suit in faer girlfriend's wardrobe, an essential part of faer plan, as much as looking damn good was essential to any plan anyway. Cautious of faer prankster girlfriend, Cameron ran a jagged fingernail across the runes, faer subtle powers picking up the shape of the magic within the wards. Her spell was actually quite clever, it simply escalated a witch’s magic to such a degree that a simple unlocking spell would disassemble the entire wardrobe, in addition to everything inside.
Fae grimaced, faer girlfriend had managed to weaponise guilt. Cunning. Very cunning. Cameron moved faer hand back away from the enchanted barrier. Despite its ingenuity, the spell was honestly something of an invitation, all fae had to do was mimic the sorcerer’s magical signature and....the door swung open with a satisfying hissing as the magical energy drained away.
A short while later Cameron was dressed in faer borrowed suit, its milky white elegance in sharp contrast to the discarded rags scattered about the room. It was unnatural to cover this much skin, and Cameron felt faer magic shrink as the synthetic fibres dampened faer connection to nature. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but fae could deal with it for a few hours. Cameron examined faeself in a nearby mirror, flattened out the more egregious creases and teleported back to Xilian’s tower.
Once back Cameron quietly meandered past an argument between Xilian and a flame wreathed skeleton. It was getting quite heated, so Cameron elected to sneak past and grab a snack rather than getting involved. Fae listened from the side-lines, chewing on some stale bread, as Xilian and the demon argued back and forth about contractual obligations and tasks beneath my dignity. It was like this every time Xilian summoned that particular demon. With enough time it would do what was asked, but it certainly seemed to enjoy dragging out the negotiation process for as long as possible.
Eventually the demon lost and stepped towards the warlock, its tall skeletal body exploding into layers of white fabric as it crossed the short distance between them. Cameron cackled faer approval as the demon-turned-outfit latched onto the irked warlock in a burst of sulphurous smoke, the dramatic transformation of demon flesh into demon robes undercut as faer voice reverberated through the room, rattling the chipped windows in their frames.
Xilian grimaced as a lower pane cracked and spread into a spiderweb of fractures undercutting their excitement in the plan. "Great, you just broke my window… again... I missed the spell, how did you do it this time? Some new magic?"
Cameron grinned, faer yellowish teeth gleaming in the dim light. "No magic greater than pure voice training baybee!”
Xilian grumbled to themselves at the non-answer and adjusted the frilly clothing before gesturing vaguely for an opinion. Cameron took a step back and considered before nodding faer approval.
“Looks like you’re ready, let's go do some cri-I mean patriotism!"
Xilian smiled, their frustration at the demon giving way to excitement as they grasped Cameron’s hand and waited for faer to cast the teleportation spell.
***
The energy crackled around them as the white clothed duo arrived in a back alley behind the royal palace, a completely unguarded stretch of wall behind which lay all the wonders of the realm. The duo looked around to be sure no one was watching, and each placed a hand against the sturdy stone, channelling their magic through it as they cast their respective spells to get into the vault.
Xilian shattered into a million fine tendrils that squirmed and wriggled their way through the microscopic cracks in the wall. Cameron, for faer part, transformed into a greenish soup that seeped through the porous rock, and as simple as that, they were both on the other side. Cameron and Xilian exchanged a grin – they were in, standing within the most secure room in all the kingdom with not an alarm or spell to mark their illicit entrance.
The room was simultaneously gaudy and disappointing. For every wall mounted blade or expensive looking portrait, there was a wood crate packed with straw or a stack of old worn books. Cameron allowed faerself a little frown. It made sense of course, the room was made for storage, but at the same time Cameron felt let-down that “The Royal Treasury” was so lacking in pzazz.
Belatedly cautious, Cameron turned and gave the enchanted walls a wary examination. As expected, there was row after row of “he or she” written into the runes, it was almost sad how small minded the wizard who made them was. Across the room Xilian grunted as they attempted to leaver open an ornate cabinet with a pilfered blade only for it to bend alarmingly under their unholy strength.
Cameron watched out of the corner of faer eye as the blade gave way completely, the magical sheen fading to dullness as the metal snapped clean in two. Xilian swore and punched the cabinet, their fist barely marking the dense woodwork as they turned back to Cameron.
“Begrudgingly, I’ll have to admit that the wizard who made this thing was actually pretty good. Most likely the current idiot’s predecessor.”
They shook their head in equal parts admiration and irritation as Cameron strolled over to take a look. “Oooh fancy rune work! It’s all about intent with that one, not all this specific terminology crap they use these days, not a chance in hell of getting into that.” Cameron looked about the room for a less durable target, only to be distracted by the sight of a familiar glass cage.
All thoughts of theft temporarily discarded, Fae rushed over to get a better look, it was faer familiar’s cage, as grungy and discoloured as the day fae had created it. The box itself seemed to have been chained shut at some point in the last five years, and a faded bloodstained note attached that simply read: Not a frog – DO NOT LET IT OUT.
Cameron let out a happy yipping noise that rattled the paintings. “Xilian, I found him! My beloved Lupi!” Fae swung the foul-smelling cage towards Xilian who tactfully pushed it to one side.
“Yes, lovely stuff, great to see him again, but maybe since we are still in the royal vault, we should…” They gestured vaguely at the crates they had been searching through.
Reunion delayed, but not forgotten, Cameron and Xilian focused on rooting through the crates and boxes for other interesting things, for the most part it was useless junk, but they pocketed a sparse few items more out of the spirit of it than the desire or need for them. It was during this idle burglary that Xilian found the Crown, encased in layers of soft silken cushions and hand plucked peacock feathers. They pulled it from the protective materials immediately, carelessly spinning the gaudy headpiece in their hands for a moment, before offering it to Cameron with a wink.
“A Royal Crown for my local monarch?”
Cameron punched their shoulder affectionately and grabbed the outstretched crown from their friend’s hands. “Oh shut up you charmer… you know, you’d have made a great addition to my polycule – it really is a shame you’re so bad in bed even after all these decades."
The warlock chuckled in response. "So you say, but I still think the real barrier is my total lack of interest.” They paused for a second before continuing with a lecherous grin, “and besides my dear Cameron, you know damn well how hard it is to get training in that dark art. Those poor Incubi barely get a second’s rest!"
Cameron sighed theatrically, nearly unsettling the crown from faer head. “Alas, you are correct, I suppose it is best to turn my ample talents to other things.”
Fae gave a shrug and waved a hand at the wall, a spew of grey smoke crawling from the pores of faer outstretched hand to smatter inky lettering on a nearby portrait.
“Before we leave, why don’t you summon the help for a painting? I wish to capture this moment in perpetuity…”
Xilian mock saluted faer and summoned a trio of impish painters in a burst of smoke and sulphur before joining Cameron by the scrawled lettering. They posed evocatively, arrogance in their stance, their mischievous grins, glimmering white clothes, and the crown rested rakishly atop Cameron’s head.
The duo was pleased with the final painting, the imps had taken it all down with perfect precision, it was brazenly bold, incriminating, and deeply offensive. In short, it was perfect. So, naturally they left a copy in the treasury for the king to appreciate; a portrait of a white suited witch-monarch, back-to-back with a white robed warlock broken blade in one hand, obscene gestures in the other, and behind them smeared in meter thick white lettering:
You should know there are more people in this world than merely Hes and Shes.