Now, Earth

Humans.

The word was filtered through the spires so it was familiar even though he had never heard it before.

The trivialization of language bothered him so. The thought that these unworthy creatures spoke to him in his language filled him with pain. Their filth seeped into his ears, polluting his superiority.

The native inhabitants of this world were much like the inferior creatures infesting his world. There were marked differences in features and skin tone combinations, but from his experiments he had learned that they were essentially identical within.

Thus, he knew how to corrupt them.

All of these inferior creatures held the capacity for the same sins.

The same fuel for his class, his magic.

He could feel it permeating the environment all around him. He had been fortunate to find such a willing populace to build him a place of power. Even more fortunate to be unopposed.

The mewling creature’s whimpers drew him from his reverie.

He drew every last sliver of the insignificant creature’s suffering into himself.

Humans on this world. Dozens of other names on his world.

All the same.

Chattel.

He pricked his fingertip with a sharp fingernail.

Spoken words that were not translated, could not be translated.

Power swirled around him.

The drop of blood seemed to hang just below his finger before it dropped into a half-filled jar. Clear water darkened into a thick reddish purple and bubbled for but a moment.

The spell completed, he screwed the jar shut.

“Acolyte!” he spoke with a lyrical tint to his voice.

The door swung open slowly, creaking all the way.

He suppressed his anger.

This world was so inelegant. Everything these humans made were ugly and loud, worth less than filth.

“Yes, Vitiator?” the human said with head bowed.

He could see this human’s sins clearly as if written all over his clothing.

This one had thrown himself into the teachings with vigor.

“I have finished with this one,” he gestured toward the now silent creature laying in the middle of his spell circle.

“I shall remove him at once,” the human moved solemnly to the spell circle. “What shall be done with him?”

“It is young and may yet be harvested in time. Allow it to recover. Then use it as you see fit.”

He saw the lust roiling in waves around the young acolyte.

He allowed his disgust to build within him. It would add to the power for the next spell.

These creatures were so easy to manipulate.

Two kinds, separated on two worlds, yet he needed only to wave a slight hint of his magic in their faces to drag them on the path to corruption.

The fools were truly chattel in word and deed.

He’d lead them to their slaughter and take their strength.

So much sin to take and use.

“Bring me another.”

“Yes, Vitiator…” the acolyte hesitated at the door, unburdened by the small human in his arms.

“Out with it. My time and attention is not to be wasted.”

“The Cabal seeks your guidance. We have discovered… concerning movements from the south.”

He looked down at the young acolyte.

Inscrutable.

Utterly inhuman.

He pondered.

The south was home to individuals with power that gave him pause.

It filled him with shame to display fear in the face of inferiors.

More power to put into the next spell.

A handful of humans with the strength to rival the greatest champions on his home world.

Galling. That such could challenge and threaten the superiority of his kind.

But different, intriguing.

The ones on this world were different.

He could detect no classes in the individuals in question..

No magic in their abilities.

He had nothing to compare to them in the experiences of the scant handful of worlds he had traveled through.

“I will give you my council. After I finish the ritual.”

The acolyte opened his mouth to protest.

He nearly sent a crippling spell of pain to teach the young acolyte the cost of temerity, but he reigned his anger in. Leaving the acolyte a quivering mess on the floor would only waste time, while weakening the Cabal for what was to come.

A lesson instead. Quicker, more efficient.

“The sacred rites shall not be rushed. One must take everything from the stock. Power must be carefully cultivated and harvested. Efficiency is the true path of the powerful.”

The acolyte nodded. “Forgive me, Vitiator, for wasting your time,” he caught himself, realizing he was still doing so by speaking. “I shall have the next subject delivered to you at once.”

The acolyte hurried out the door, not bothering to close it.

Silently, he bent his tall form down to wipe the spell circle with his voluminous sleeves.

The pungent stench of the previous chattel’s juices stung his sensitive nose.

He tasted the suffering.

It was good.

The chattel of this world knew nothing of what he brought. That naivety and innocence made them all the more valuable.

Suffering was power and he intended to grow powerful before he opened the way for others of his kind to join him on this world.

----------------------------------------

The Vitiator stood at the head of a long rectangular table.

Human chairs weren’t made for his inhuman frame.

He was tall, over seven feet.

Two legs, two arms.

A human-like head and face.

Skin as fair as a storybook princess. Beautiful, unearthly features that evoked traditional descriptions of the fae.

Close, but not human, hence disturbing.

It was the eyes.

Not even the long, knife-like ears. Nor the long, flowing, perfect hair that shined like burnished gold.

No.

It was the eyes that drove in the Vitiator’s inhumanity.

Too large and luminous, sparkling with an internal light, power.

He was thin, almost spindly, but there was strength in those long limbs and long fingers.

Strong enough to lift grown men and women like discarded tissues.

Strong enough to pull limbs off with just as much ease.

But physical strength wasn’t where the Vitiator’s true power lay.

His magical power was concealed, but could be sensed writhing just beneath the surface like a serpent waiting to be unleashed.

The table was mostly empty. There were only five true acolytes that comprised the real membership of the Cabal.

“Your concerns,” the Vitiator’s lyrical voice was tantalizing and menacing in equal parts.

“The anti-scrying enchantment you aided us in casting and maintaining is no longer detecting scrying attempts,” one of the cabal members, a severe-faced young woman said.

Silence.

“They had been attempting to scry us continuously over the past two months,” a heavyset woman in her middle years said.

“I’ve managed to scry the rangers’ base long enough for a glimpse before their mages detected and blocked me,” a weaselly man said nervously. “It was quiet. No signs of activity. There was no one training.”

“They are planning something, we must prepare,” an older man, balding and paunchy intoned.

The Vitiator’s unblinking eyes turned to the young man.

He didn’t care to remember the young man’s name. None of them. Did one name their livestock? Their tools?

“I have nothing to add, Vitiator,” the young man said.

The Vitiator inclined his head a fraction.

The young man thought, hoped that it was a sign of approval. That he had learned the lesson from earlier in the day.

“And what would you do?” the Vitiator said.

He knew what needed to be done, but it was important to lead the chattel to the desired path.

These five were better than the rest, but the most promising chattel was still chattel.

There was opportunity here though.

The powerful ones in the south were finally moving. He had studied them from afar. His magic was much greater then the paltry powers of the chattel, after all. He knew what they would do.

The patriarch would face the monsters to the east.

The matriarch would stay home. She was strong, but her power could only defend. The young, the most vulnerable would be under her umbrella.

The young female would lead the attack with her rangers.

He wished to test them.

To lead them to the path of corruption.

To show them true suffering.

To harvest that potent energy.

“I suggest we pull our levers on the gangs,” the bald man said. “Have some aid in our defense, have others attack Orange County. Bring them the same destruction they seek to bring to us.”

“We should hide ourselves during the initial stages of the attack. Take the rangers by surprise when they have spent themselves on our meatshields,” the severe-faced young woman said venomously.

“Why fight at all?” the heavyset woman said. “Let them kill the gangs, our fighters, our assets. So, what? There are many more potential assets in L.A. County alone. Our levels are in the mid 20’s. We have yet to find anyone else over 20. The highest leveled ranger is at 19.”

“Start all over again?” the weaselly man twitched.

“It would be a challenge, perhaps enough to gain levels. We’ve plateaued over the last several months,” the young man said.

“No people, outside of the Cruces, can stand against our combined magics,” the heavyset woman said.

“You are but simple Pain Mages. A small sliver on the path I have offered to guide you upon,” the Vitiator said.

“Guide us, master,” the severe-faced woman bowed her head.

The others followed suit in their haste to not be the last.

“Your suggestions all have merit. We will proceed together.”

The Vitiator saw opportunity for them all.

The Cabal and their forces would face death and destruction.

Those that survived would level, grow stronger, become more useful to the Vitiator’s purpose.

As for those that failed… well, they had already served their purpose in any case.

This world’s population had been drastically cut in the wake of the spires’ appearance, yet there were still so many of the humans.

The disgustingly fat female was correct.

No matter the outcome here, starting again in a different place was a viable path.

Later that day, just as the sun began to dip over the horizon to cast dying rays upon the land, the Vitiator prepared a scrying spell of his own.

Death, so many would feel its last touch soon. Unlike the suns rays they would never rise again, unless one of the chattel discovered necrotic magics or a Necromancer from his world crossed over, but that was years away if all went according to his plans.

His timetable would proceed slowly, deliberately. Not a waste of it.

He would not claim enough territory in the name of his Emperor until he deemed himself sufficiently strong enough to keep what he took away from covetous hands.

In time he would rule this world, these humans.

The Vitiator stood still as a statue inside a spell circle as he cast his mind’s eye into the world.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

The landscape blurred beneath him as he sought out the power to the south, a shining beacon to his magical senses.

He saw the house miles below. He plummeted down as the roof became as nothing to his senses. Chattel, special to be sure, but still nothing more than livestock.

Father, mother, child, more children, but weaker, useless.

He could see them all, seated around a table.

Laughter.

Joy.

Love.

The Vitiator shied away, repulsed.

His senses were drawn to an empty chair.

There was something wrong with what he was watching.

The empty place wasn’t empty. There was a plate, food, eaten. A glass, half empty.

Impossible.

His magical senses detected nothing in the space.

Yet the chattel spoke to the empty space.

Were they mentally damaged?

There was something wrong.

He probed the empty space.

Then recoiled.

A powerful force lurked beneath the nothingness.

An instant.

The Vitiator fled in an instant all the way back to his body.

Such power.

His large, luminous eyes opened with a singular emotion.

Fear.

He felt it for the first time on this world.

The Vitiator marked the presence as best he could.

It was already gone, but that could’ve been a product of distance.

His plans would need adjusting. He knew that he didn’t want to face this new presence. Not as he currently was.

The thought was galling.

Nevertheless, the plan would proceed.

He would keep a watch out for the new power.

Perhaps it would be wiser to flee immediately and start over.

His ears twitched with annoyance.

Pride wouldn’t let him run and hide.

The feeling returned a small portion of magical energy to him.

He sneered bitterly.

The ambient mana in this world was inferior to his home. It made casting spells more difficult and forced him to rely more on his internal reserves and what he could process from the chattel.

The Vitiator sat down to replenish what he had just spent.

The passage of time was uncertain in the meditative state.

An hour, maybe two had passed by his estimate.

A knock on the door sounded again.

Urgent.

“Enter.”

“Vitiator, forgive me, but we have detected activity. They’re coming,” the young cabal member said.

The Vitiator cast his scrying spell.

Power.

Two.

One an incandescent light, shining for any with the eyes to see it.

The other forced him to calm his breathing.

The second one was still tightly hidden, like a raging inferno contained in an adamantine vault. The walls practically glowing red with the power inside.

“Signal your forces to begin their attack. You have decided which two will accompany me?”

“Yes, they await your presence.”

The Vitiator swept an overlong hand toward the jars of thick, reddish-purple liquid on the shelf against the wall. “One for each of the Cabal. Drink it in one gulp, but be warned the magical energy will infuse you quickly. Rein it in or be destroyed.” The Vitiator had prepared for this moment. “I will join the chosen ones shortly.”

“May we triumph,” the young man said solemnly.

A small smile graced the Vitiator’s lips.

The young man’s knees grew weak at the beauteous sight.

“Show them what you have become,” the Vitiator intoned, “show them the depths of our magic.”

----------------------------------------

Cal felt a presence brush against his telepathic walls.

He tried to grab it, but it vanished in the space between seconds.

For a moment a spike of fear went through him at the idea that another Mother Madrigal-like entity had announced itself or that the Deep Azure had launched an opening salvo.

Then he calmed down and analyzed the momentary intrusion.

He realized the presence had been different from the eldritch abominations. Not nearly as powerful and of a different nature.

More like a… spell.

“Hey, Rayna, do your mages scry here?”

Rayna’s answer was garbled due to the slice of pizza that she had just crammed into her mouth.

“Rayna, what are you teaching Rynnen?” their mom sighed.

“How not to eat at the table,” their dad smiled down at the little boy, “right, Rynnen?”

The little boy nodded then proceeded to cram his slice of pizza into his mouth.

Rayna gave him a thumbs up as she chewed. “Sorry, kinda in a rush here. Only a few more hours till go time. Need the carbs.”

“Well?” Cal looked at her expectantly.

“Yeah, I’ve got our mages randomly scrying important locations all over the county. This entire area included, since our base is just down the street.”

“Did one of them just scry us now?”

“Randomly,” Rayna’s eyes narrowed.

“You sensed something?” their dad said lightly exchanging a look with their mother.

Wariness, tension.

Cal tried not to pick up on his parents’ thoughts.

The close proximity of the dinner table made it a mostly futile effort.

“Similar to the scrying the rangers’ mages do, but…” Cal hesitated to voice the revulsion he had felt at the touch, “much stronger and…” he shivered.

“Best not to say it then, anak,” their dad said while glancing at Rynnen.

“Yeah… yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ll take a look around and see if I can figure out what it was,” Cal said.

Reluctantly, he reached out with his telepathy.

First, around the neighborhood, then he radiated out in an ever widening sphere, until he had covered miles of area.

So many thoughts, good, bad, heartening, disgusting, touched Cal’s mind as he touched theirs, not that they’d ever know.

It was unpleasant to put it mildly and ultimately a wasted effort.

He came up with nothing.

The mages that were responsible for scrying for threats were performing their duties. A quick peek into their memories showed that none of them had been scrying anywhere near Cal at the moment he had felt the brief intrusion.

Unease filled him.

An unknown potential threat was out there.

“I got nothing,” Cal said.

“Does this impact the operation?” Rayna said between more manageable bites of pizza.

Cal wanted to say ‘yes’. He wanted to tell his sister that they should postpone things until he discovered the unknown intruder and neutralized the threat.

However, he wasn’t in charge here. It wasn’t his show.

And he was still reluctant to get back into actively fighting things.

Time off had helped him heal, but he need to do more to be absolutely certain that he wasn’t a danger to others.

“I don’t know. It might not have anything to do with your operation, but if it does then be extra careful. Assume that your enemies are hiding something,” Cal said.

Rayna snorted. “We know. They’ve been blocking our scrying attempts for like a couple of months. That means they’ve definitely got stronger mages or something.”

“Rayna, maybe you should wait. Let your brother check and see if they do have stronger mages,” their mom said.

“I can do that,” Cal said reluctantly.

“No way, Mom. We’re ready, everything is set. People continue to suffer every minute we wait. Like, as we sit here and eat pizza and fries,” she glanced at Rynnen, “bad things are being done to innocent people,” she whispered harshly to her mom.

Their mom’s eyes fell on Cal.

He didn’t need his telepathy to know that she was hoping he’d support her.

“You’re both right,” Cal said.

“We don’t need your permission, anyways,” Rayna said stiffly.

“We’ll just need to increase our level of caution,” their dad said.

“Just about the only thing we can do,” Cal frowned. He ran his thumb over the stumps of his pinkie and ring finger. He stood up abruptly. “I need to tell Nila about this.” He took a few steps toward the front door before turning back and grabbing a few slices of pizza and a stuffing a handful of fries into his mouth.

“Really, Cal?” their mom said in exasperation. “Just because you guys have superpowers doesn’t mean table rules don’t apply.”

“Be at the port before seven!” Rayna called out as Cal walked out the door. “Dad, maybe you can take up a station halfway between here and your normal patrol route… just in case.”

----------------------------------------

“What the hell is this?” Rayna landed with more aggression than she had intended. The force of her gravity field left a spiderweb of cracks beneath her boots.

“We’re ready, just waiting on you.” Kayl craned her swan-like neck up and searched the dark sky. “Where’s your brother?”

“Something weird happened… he went ahead to scope things out,” Rayna said.

Kayl’s eyes narrowed. “This changes the plan?”

“Maybe, we’ll find out when Cal meets up with us. By us I mean everyone here except you. I’ll fly you back, c’mon.”

“Nope, I’m Ranger Captain. Not going to stay behind while my brothers and sisters head to the toughest fight they’ve ever had,” Kayl swung her scoped rifle up to her shoulder.

“Where’s Dave?” Rayna raised her voice and searched the gathered crowed of rangers. Four hundred strong, eighty percent of their total complement, not counting recruits in training.

“I’m sure the sergeant is busy seeing to 1st Squad,” Kayl rolled her eyes, “besides he’s got nothing to say about my being here.”

Rayna jabbed a finger toward Kayl’s enormous belly. “You’re about to pop. Dave’s got at least half a say in regards to the baby.”

“Does he?”

“Yes!” Rayna snapped. “Do you need a refresher on how human reproduction works?”

“Sure, you can tell me about it on the way,” Kayl shrugged. “Let’s go, time’s wasting. People need rescuing and baddies need killing.”

Rayna knew the set to Kayl’s jaw. The tall woman would make a scene if she tried to take Kayl back by force. Dignity be damned. That would probably be bad for morale for the rangers to see their captain carried away in a gravity bubble while throwing a tantrum.

Although…

“Don’t you care about the election results? They’re supposed to finish counting them tonight,” Rayna tried one last track.

“Nope, win or lose I can’t do anything about it now and to tell you the truth I’m having second thoughts,” Kayl waved a hand dismissively.

“Fine.”

Without warning Rayna engulfed the gathered rangers in a giant gravity bubble and lifted them up into the night sky.

Ten minutes to cover thirty miles high above L.A. County.

It was all so dark.

The only signs of life where small, scattered fires.

Nothing like it was in the old days, when the light was visible from space.

Beverly Hills, the mansions, were an exception.

They were lit up, shining brightly like a beacon in the distance.

Light suggested a place of hope.

It kept ships safe on the dark oceans.

It kept the monsters away.

Not this light.

This was a trap.

It lured the vulnerable for exploitation by those more powerful.

Rayna felt a sudden disruption of her gravitic bubble.

She didn’t have time to react as a dark figure descended before her.

“Hey,” Cal waved.

Rayna’s narrowed. “Where’s your armor?”

Her brother was wearing regular clothing, jeans and a t-shirt. At least he had managed to scrounge an old police tac vest. However, there were no visible weapons. Rayna found that irksome.

“I gave it to Mom… just in case,” Cal said with forced lightness.

“Finally, a pleasure to meet you.” Kayl reached out a hand or rather tried to.

The lack of gravity in the bubble meant that the Ranger Captain went into a sort of slow rotation.

Rayna was in foul mood, so she didn’t lend her friend a hand.

Cal regarded Rayna with a disapproving look before he held a hand out to Kayl.

The pregnant woman’s rotation reversed and she found herself floating toward Cal.

“Nice to meet you,” Cal said as they shook hands.

“I’ve heard a lot about you. Thanks for helping us,” Kayl said.

“I could do more, but…” Cal hesitated.

“Appreciate the offer, but we need this. For the future,” Kayl said.

“What’d you find?” Rayna snapped.

She blinked and found herself standing inside her bedroom.

Cal was there, seated at her desk.

“Whatever happened to this desk?” Cal patted the cheap IKEA particle board surface fondly.

“Termites,” Rayna said flatly. “What the hell is this?”

“Mindscape. I sensed you were tense and frustrated, which is a bad thing to be before a big battle. At least from my experience. I suppose I shouldn’t assume that it’s the same for you. If so, I apologize,” Cal said.

Rayna counted to ten.

“It’s fine… and you’re right. Stupid Kayl is pregnant and heading into the toughest fight we’ve ever had. I’m about to stand back and watch as friends fight for the lives. I don’t know how many will die. I just keep thinking about my last interactions with all of them. Which I can now remember as if they just happened yesterday.”

“Same for you then,” Cal nodded, his smile was strained. “Nearly perfect memory recall. I had thought it was a part of my mental powers, but if it’s the same for you then it’s probably just part of the overall improvement package our bodies got. It makes sense that our brains’ functions would also get an enormous boost.”

“So, you’re like Jean Grey or something? I didn’t know you could do this? Why didn’t you tell me? It seems useful for secret plotting,” Rayna said.

“Because I don’t really like doing this. I feel that it’s an invasion of privacy for you and for me.”

“You’re reading my mind?” Rayna frowned.

“No, I do my best to shield my mind in order to prevent other people’s thoughts from getting in.”

“Why the fuck would you do that? You can pick out the bad guys. There’d be no questions. You could stop them before they act.”

“Thought crime. It’s like that movie. It never seemed like justice to punish a guy for thinking bad thoughts,” Cal shrugged. “There are downsides to this. It can be like sitting in a crowded theater with everyone yelling into my ears at the same time. If I go deeper then it’s like sharing the thoughts. Like they were mine. Memories and everything else.”

Rayna nodded thoughtfully. “It’d suck if you were in the mind of a psycho.”

“Yup… don’t get me wrong. I recognize that if a dire situation were to arise then I would have to use my telepathic powers to their full potential.”

“So this mindscape thingie? Am I in your brain?”

“In mine, in yours, both, neither,” Cal smiled wan, “I go back and forth on that. Still unclear.”

“Okay… this is cool and all, but also disturbing… we should probably get back,” Rayna said.

“I control perception in here. This conversation is taking place in the span between seconds,” Cal said.

“Seriously, I’m cool now,” Rayna said.

“I wish I could give you advice. I’ve been in similar situations and my actions, decision led to the deaths of… friends,” Cal said. “It’s left a mark in me that I think I’ll carry forever.”

“Thanks for the terrible words of discouragement,” Rayna deadpanned.

“What helps is that I knew that they chose their paths freely. Not that the guilt goes away completely. At times I still blame myself for creating the conditions for said path to emerge. I question… did they really chose? Or did I feed them an illusion of choice,” Cal shrugged.

“Terrible talk… worse brother ever,” Rayna grinned.

“Doing my best,” Cal smiled. “In the end that’s all we can do and while I do have my misgivings about this operation. I can tell that your rangers want this. They aren’t children and I’m not a god to force my will,” Cal stood and laid a hand on Rayna’s head. Which was more awkward now that she was taller than him. “Neither are you.”

“I… I just… I have the power to keep them all safe. We could do this together without anyone getting hurt,” Rayna said. “How can we do otherwise?”

“Okay… now you're going to convince me,” Cal let out a long breath. “I think… I think they need to get stronger. We can’t be around forever. I have seen things on other worlds that would sweep over everyone here with ease. I despise it, but the spires are right. Survival can’t be done without strength.”

“And so people we care about die, so that the survivors might gain the strength to fight further into the future,” Rayna’s shoulder’s slumped.

“That is our situation… for now,” Cal said sadly.

“Then we should probably start thinking about how to change that on a fundamental level. I’m not a believer in the idea that survival is enough. I want us to thrive, not just to reclaim the old world, but to build a better one,” Rayna straightened.

“That’s a worthy goal,” Cal smiled.

Rayna blinked and found herself in the dark night sky staring at her smiling brother.

It seemed truly genuine for the first time since he had returned.

“So, I have some concerning information,” Cal said.

“Do we need to cancel the Quest?” Kayl said in alarm.

“That’s for you to decide.” Cal said. “I flew in fairly close and started to scan the mansions in the hills. I detected a powerful presence, I’m not entirely sure, but it felt magical.”

“A mage,” Kayl nodded.

“It did have that feeling. But curiously enough there was a strong flash of energy that vanished in a split-second along with the presence.”

“You can detect spells?” Rayna said.

“I don’t know if it is specifically the spells or the energy released in the process,” Cal said. “Can’t you do the same? I’m no scientist, but I have read a lot of comic books, sci-fi and fantasy novels in my day and gravity fields does stuff with energy.”

“Yeah, I read a bunch of books from the library, real science ones. There’s a reason the Earth isn’t scoured clean by solar and cosmic radiation,” Rayna said.

“And?”

“It’s not exactly easy and the tutorials the spires sells aren’t really all that clear when it comes to my powers,” Rayna snapped.

“The mage you felt?” Kayl waved her hands in Cal’s and Rayna’s faces.

“No longer there, which is a good news and bad news thing,” Cal said.

Kayl nodded. “Where’d he go? It’d be a problem if he popped back in while we’re stuck in it.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for him since I’m not to interfere in the battle,” Cal said.

“Okay… we keep going then,” Rayna looked to Cal.

He shrugged.

“Yes, the Quest is still on,” Kayl proclaimed.