Wishmaster: Exodus

Wishmaster © Live Film and Mediaworks, Inc.

Wishmaster II: Evil Never Dies © Artisan International, Inc.

Story © Kogamitsu (that's me)

Prologue

A black sun rose slowly but certainly on the blood red sky, shedding dark light into this world of eternal autumn where no mortal had ever set a foot in. A flock of red-eyed ravens occupied the branches of a willow tree that had never sprouted leaves nor seen a young couple cuddling at its roots. At the distance, just on top of a rocky cliff, located a castle so great it would lead to believe that gods themselves had once built it. The throne of the castle was made of the dearest materials of all worlds and it stood silently at its place, waiting for a king to appear and claim it for its own.

Many had tried, few had returned from the task they have to fulfil before they would have the right to sit on the throne a rule over this dimension and what would lie beyond it. One of those had cheated death thrice, earning an additional title of The Undying from the Council that held its watchful eye over the world in the lack of a king. He had returned from his task three times, unsuccessful but alive, and after the third time he had lost his interest in such lowly heights. Instead he developed an interest in honing his own might, studying magical arts to rise above the rest of his kind.

Another ancient, dusty book lay open before his red eyes when he heard the door of his study open and a few armed guards entering in. Their leader stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Thousand and one apologies, mighty Undying one," he swiftly declared. "The Council sent us to summon you."

Involuntarily The Undying closed his book and followed the guards over to the castle and its throne hall where the Council awaited. He briefly knelt to greet them, to avoid any further punishments for impudence. The elder of the Council stood up from his cosy seat to emphasize his superiority, even though he wouldn't challenge The Undying even in his dreams; he had honed his skills to perfection and theoretically presented grave threat to the Council, but they were too proud to admit it.

"The Council summoned me?"

"Yes, Undying one. Our last hope to fulfil the demanding task has been slaughtered, leaving the position open yet once more. We are running slim of volunteering disciples, in fact, they have all refused to even try and free our race from this hell. That is why, o' Undying one, we have called upon you today."

The elder looked him straight in his eyes. "We'll send you, once more, out to fight for us."

"I refuse."

It was blunt. Simple, direct. A manifestation of the free will their race had been granted as they were created from smokeless fire. The Council mumbled in disbelief; was someone really disobeying them?

"Know, Undying one, despite your title you can be destroyed. This was not a request, it was an order."

"I will not clean up the mess the fools have made themselves. Send someone else."

"Oh? What is this mess you so cringe at?"

The Undying lifted his hands in the air, using his newly learned powers to create an illusion, a peek into the world of mortals. The Council gasped, some in delight of the sight of his might, some in fear as they realized the powers he had gained. The illusion portrayed men with great swords, variety of firearms and skulls of their race decorating their chambers. "The number of humans that are aware of us has grown massively," The Undying declared. "They have captured us, studied us and found out ways to harm us, even instantly destroy us. This is because those who you have sent have been careless; they have exposed their true nature to everyone and attracted unwanted attention. This one particular group has proven to be more fatal than any other kind of hunter we have faced before. They call themselves Crusaders. They have enhanced their troops to acquire mages, some of whom are just slightly weaker than us, granted we could act magically at will, not only when wished to do so."

The illusion disappeared. "The moral of the story is, o' great Council, is that you have forgotten that we are no different from any other hellish or celestial being. We, too, have to adhere to the code of masquerade like the others. Instead, we have been juggling dumbsters and outran the 8:15 from Sacramento, and we have got what we asked for. We have got ourselves into the situation where our magic can no longer aid us or science save us. Their tiny 21st century brains have actually been put to decent use."

The elder let out a heavy sigh and sat back down. An uneasy silence landed on the whole hall, even armed guards swept the floors with their eyes in shame. But The Undying didn't seem affected. He never was. "Wise Undying one," a female Council member pleaded. "The Council admits their flaw regarding this. We have not instructed our disciples well, and their deaths are on our conscious. Now we turn to you, for you seem to have the most experience and knowledge about our problem."

"Your problem is, great Council, is that none of you have actually been put on the field. You do not know what lies beyond the gateway the Persian sorcerer bound us with. Yes, I do have an answer, if you wish to hear it."

The excitement was tangible – just the way he liked it. He would have them begging before the sun would go down again. "I trust the great Council remembers the minor incident some 400 years ago?"

"Yes, your son followed through the gateway when we sent another unfortunate disciple."

"For decades I thought I had lost my son forever, but he returned and with him, he brought something I never would have imagined to see. He had humbled himself and studied in the Land of the Rising Sun under human teachers, the proud and the invisible, and mastered skills that humans refer today as 'martial arts'. My son re-created their weapons in our dimension and upkeeps his skills even today. My point is, great Council, it is time we took advantage of it and turned the humans' arts against them."

"Are you suggesting to send your son? He hasn't been instructed in the ways of conquering."

"He doesn't need to. I promise to teach him everything he needs to. He will be ready before the day is out."

The Undying bowed slightly and turned to leave, only to be stopped on his tracks by the elder. "We sincerely hope your plan isn't just a waste of time," he growled, envious of his ingeniousness. "For if we find that your son fails like everyone else, you shall both be beheaded."

The Undying let out an unimpressed 'hmph'. If an ancient sorcerer, blowing his own brains out with a revolver and getting a bullet in his heart couldn't stop him, hardly could the Council either. "The worst you can offer is death, Council," he said. "And with that I can cope with."