Milk and Mul popped out of the bright light of the Pyli and into the streets of his home town, The Grove of Kings. Behind them, little Dibs and Mul’s Match followed.

The streets were not how he had left them.

“Dianmu in Heaven. This isn’t how it’s supposed to look is it?” Milk asked completely shocked by the scenes of wanton destruction, but careful not to be too offensive just in case this was how it was meant to look.

Mul was speechless.

He recognised Lion Square, and the Clock Tower of the shifting sands but the historical square was littered with glass, the buildings around its border either reduced to rubble or something close to it. A familiar cloud loomed above them, purple and pulsing, but distant and distracted.

“Where is everyone?” Milk asked.

“The streets should be teaming with people. It’s the Festival of Sounds.”

“We are too exposed here Mul. We need to get to cover before someone notices us.”

“Let’s try for my Aunty Magela’s house. Dianmu - I hope she’s ok.”

“Me too Mul,” she said, placing a hand on his drooping shoulders.

“It’s this way,” he said pointing to the west.

They picked their way through the square, climbing over toppled buildings and collapsed shopfronts until at last the made their way to a back street behind the main square, and the destruction cleared.

“It’s less than five minutes from here if the way is clear.”

“There’s nothing for you that way Mulberry Gnat,” said a voice from behind them.

Mul and Milk spun around, their wands raised. In Milk’s hand, she held a the broken arm of an old pair of spectacles which glowed ferociously with magic. In Mul’s hand the desiccated remains of an old cat’s tail quivered.

“There’s nothing remotely magical about either one of you,” the old Man said sardonically as he stood before them unfazed by their aggression.

Dibs grew slightly, threatening to become something even bigger. Mul’s Match glowed like a candle, oscillating between intensities.

The old man was completely bald. He was thin bordering on gaunt. His clothing was odd, a mixture of plastics and metal neatly stacked in places to give the impression that it was built to take a beating.

“Perhaps I should introduce myself. My name is Papa and I’m here to ask for your help.”

“Not interested Mr,” said Milk grimacing.

“Do you know where everyone is?”

“I don’t know for certain, but I can guess.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Milk shouted.

“Shush girl, you’ll attract the monsters. They can be quite relentless when they’re hungry.”

“Are you responsible for that?” Milk asked, stunned.

“Regrettably no. I don’t create things. I destroy them.”

“So you know the monsters we speak of. The ones that Shriek.”

“Oh yes - of course I do. The Sku-Zo. There are hundreds of them,” he cocked his head and listened intently.

“They’re sleeping.”

“What do you want from us Mr?” Mul asked and catching up with his thoughts.

“And how do you know my name.”

“You’re the one I’m destined to convince for all of eternity, it seems, to make the right decision. The one we’ve all been waiting for.”

“What are you talking about?” Milk said, the magic in her fragile wand dancing on the tip.

“What are you intending to do with that little broken wand?”

“Make any weird moves Mr and I’ll show you.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Papa smiled and turned his gaze upon the Clock Tower of the shifting sands, just behind him, over his left shoulder. In a flash of blackness the Tower blinked out of existence.

Mul jumped as the building vanished. A terrified eep escaped Milk’s mouth.

“Like I said. I destroy. But don’t worry. I won’t hurt you Mulberry - and if your cooperative I won’t hurt this girlfriend of yours.”

Dibs grunted.

“This is how this is going to go Mr. You’re going to let Mel make it to his Aunty. And you’re going to go to the cheap glam-rock dress-up party you’re late for and everyone will be happy.

Papa did not appreciate her tone, and turned to admonish Milk with more of his threats. Milk by that time had had enough. The sun was peaking through a gap in the purple cloud, and she was feeling brash as heck.

“Voli!” She yelled as a dazzling beam of light collided with Papa’s face. The crash was so loud that it left their ears ringing, and shook at least one building further the ground.

To everyone’s surprise the magic caught the old man like a wet stage-coach to the face. Rather than knocking him away, it twisted Papa sickeningly in mid air, landing him on his chin with a bone crunching crack.

In the distance they could hear a terrible shrieking the morning air. A Sku-Zo. More than one. Many. How many were there?

However many it was, they didn’t sound happy.

“Run!” They both yelled simultaneously.

Milk grabbed Mul’s arm, pulling him in the direction she thought he was roughly aiming at. He followed her limply. His aunty was probably one of those awful things by now. There had been no point coming here. Risking his life, Milk’s life… for nothing.

Back at the town square, Papa’s neck popped back into position, and his eyes opened. He pulled himself from the floor, dusted off his outfit and smiled as the screams of the Sku-Zo grew closer to his position.

“Silly children. At least the path is crystallising, isn’t it Apeche?”

“It’s firming. But the possibilities are legion. It may be fine…or it may be a cluster f…”

…

“That’s it over there,” Mul said, half panting, half pointing at the small cottage they were approaching, just at the border of town and country.

“That’s my aunty’s place.”

“At least it’s all in one piece right? That’s a good sign!” Milk offered hopefully.

“And she’s a tremendous sorcerous too. She would fight back,” Mul smiled.

When they reached the house, and turned onto the gravel path they began to feel strange. Dibs and Mul’s match felt it first. A sense of tremendous pressure and heat building slowly around them. It started with the extremities first. Mul felt like his hands and feet were being crushed by an unseen force. He buckled and began to groan as the mounting weight and friction drove down on him. Milk, who was carrying both Dibs and Mul’s match collapsed onto her back, her head hitting hard on a stone retaining wall.

The weight of the invisible force crushed down on Mul’s head and neck, until his vision blurred and he began to lose consciousness. The last thing he heard was the swarm of Sku-Zo approaching. They would be upon him soon, and then all of them would either be consumed or transformed. This was entirely his fault.

With his guilty mind only adding to the pressure on his body, he passed into darkness.

…

When he awoke, he was finally home.

Better yet, he was in his own room, with its walls entirely covered in the overlapping posters of hundred or so of his favourite fantasy characters. The curtains were drawn, and the room was dim. The room was just as he’d left it only a month or so ago. There were books on every surface, and under his bed, and stacked from floor to ceiling. Everything was wood again, and straw, and leaf and log. There was a natural strength to everything in this place. He could smell teak, and pine and wood polish. He could taste juniper and rosemary in the air. This was his magic - not fire, or stone, or light or smoke - but earth and its living roots; the veins carrying the life-blood of the globe.

His match was nestled on his belly, barely moving.

He really should name this creature, he thought.

Milk was nowhere to be seen but he did not fear for her.

“Hey…hey I need to move you a little,” he said to his Match.

He took the creature by its shoulders and placed it gently on his pillow. His Match purred.

Mul felt well. He was full of energy and maybe even happy. Or, at least, happier than he had been at that school.

“Milk! Where are you?” he called uselessly as he pulled himself out of bed.

He walked to the window and drew the curtains open. What he saw robbed him of any of the salubrious effects of his return home.

Four metres from the window, and in every direction it was possible to see, there was a wall of shrieking monsters before him. Their bodies created a dome of writhing, agonising flesh, which blocked-out the sun. A thousand or more Sku-Zo appeared to be caught in the magical trap that had earlier trapped him and Milk.

“I was so worried,” said a voice from behind.

Mul turned into a familiar and warming embrace.

“Mul, I don’t know what I would have done if you’d been hurt. I heard about the School. It was the first to be hit.”

“Aunty Magellan! I’m ok. But where’s Milk?”

Mul surprised himself with the question. Why was he worried about a person he’d met a day ago.

“Your friend and her Match are ok. They’re sleeping it off in the guest room. It affects smaller things more harshly. It’s really designed for Sku-Zo, not people and definitely not Matches.”

“Is she really ok?”

“She’s fine Mul,” Magellan insisted, taking him into her arms again.

It was at that exact point that Milk entered the room.

“I’ve never been so damn tired in all my life.”

Before anyone had the chance to comment further a deafening voice sounded through the throng of monstrous bodies.

“Magellan! My dear girl! It’s me Papa! Why don’t you let me in?”

Magellan could not hide the horror in her face, or disguise the sudden and unmistakable look of imminent defeat. It worried Mul so deeply that he dropped his Cat’s tail wand on the floor and began to shake.

“Don’t make me ask a second time Magellan.”