AN: New people, you might want to read 'Indomitable X-Men: To Me, My X-Men!' first. Everyone else, sorry this is so late. I haven't had much time to write over the past few months. Well, enjoy.
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Indomitable X-Men
Band of Brothers
Chapter One
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"Hurry, hurry, hurry!" a voice echoed through the streets of the small village of Winzeldorf in Eastern Germany. "Step right up to see the fabulous Wanda and Pietro Maximoff! Anything you can do, they can do better! Feats of speed and improbable acts! Hurry, before all of the tickets are gone!"
The voice belonged, of course, to Pietro Maximoff himself. He and his sister Wanda had been on a tour through all of Eastern Europe. Winzeldorf was their third to last stop before they were finished. After that? Pietro shrugged and ran a hand through his shock-white hair, brushing his two long forelocks out of his eyes. After that they didn't know what they were doing. Still, they had time to figure it out.
Pietro ran around back of the hastily-built stage in the town square to where Wanda was busy brushing her long, dark brown hair. "Big crowd out there tonight," he said, switching from German to Romani, his first language.
"A big crowd?" asked Wanda sarcastically in the same language. "Please. This town wouldn't recognize a big crowd if it had enough people to make one."
"You chose it for the tour," said Pietro. "In fact, you were pretty adamant about coming here. Why is that?"
"I don't know," Wanda said thoughtfully as she put down the brush and pulled her red jacket on. "It was just a compulsion. Like we're supposed to be here."
Pietro shrugged. Sometimes his sister had flashes of intuition along with her other talents. It was just part of the hand life had dealt them. Her compulsions had never steered them wrong before.
"Right," he said, smiling. "Let's go out there and wow them!"
…
"'It was just a compulsion'!" Pietro said mockingly, slumping against the wall and holding his injured leg. "'Like we're supposed to be here'! Why do I ever listen to you?"
"You're the one who introduced me as 'the Scarlet Witch' to a bunch of superstitious, backwater peasants!" Wanda shot back, nursing the lump on her head. "Now we're stuck here in this stupid bell-tower. Nice going, 'Quicksilver'."
"Do you smell sulfur?" Pietro said, getting distracted. "I think I smell sulfur. Do you smell sulfur?"
"Pietro, you're getting off subject," Wanda complained. She stopped, sniffed the air, and cocked her head to the side. "Now that you mention it, I do smell sulfur. That's odd."
"I know that you've had a hard day," said a voice from further up the tower, making the Maximoffs jump, "but could you please discuss something besides how bad I smell? I can't help it."
"Who is it? Who's there?" Pietro said, attempting to jump to his feet. He landed on his injured leg and slumped back down with a groan. "Remind me not to do that again," he said to Wanda.
"Don't do that again," she told him absently, as she peered up into the dust motes sifting through beams of light in the rafters. "Who are you?" she called. "Come down here! Show yourself!"
"I am not going to show myself," the voice said from a deep shadow beside Wanda. "You will be frightened if I do."
"It takes more than parlor tricks to frighten me," she said, backing away from the shadow. Try as she might, she could see nothing in it, but the smell of sulfur had grown stronger. "Come out of the shadows."
"If you are certain…" said the voice.
"I am," Wanda confirmed.
"As you wish."
A two-toed foot, covered in fine, blue hair was placed in the circle of light in the center of the tower floor. It was followed by a three-fingered hand, a yellow-eyed face with a mouthful of short fangs, and a slightly hunched body. Wanda drew in a breath as the creature's spaded tail flicked into view.
"You're not frightening," she said gently, trying not to scare him off. "You're amazing."
"Don't flirt with the dungeon-monster, Wanda," Pietro groaned, still nursing his leg.
"I'm not flirting, idiot!" she shot back. "Besides, he's not a monster." She reached out a hand to the creature before her, and he shrank away, clutching the rags of what looked like a circus performer's costume closer about himself. "Who are you?" Wanda asked.
"My name is Kurt Wagner," he said, then he smiled sadly, "but in the circus, I was known as the Incredible Nightcrawler!" His smile faded. "But, then I ended up here. They're going to burn me at the stake in a few days."
Wanda shook her head. "Savages!" she said indignantly. "They should be destroyed!"
"No," said Kurt, taking one of her hands in his own. "We must pray for them."
Pietro scoffed. "A lot of good that'll do when there are flames licking at our feet," he said morbidly.
"Not that contemplating our imminent demise isn't fun," said Kurt, glaring at Pietro, "but there are three of us now. Maybe we should think of how to escape, yes? I can teleport along lines of sight. Can the two of you do anything of the sort?"
"I can manipulate probabilities and cause electrical systems to go haywire," said Wanda. "My brother has enhanced speed, reflexes, and durability."
"I don't speak science. Could you repeat that again in Romani?" Kurt deadpanned.
"I'm fast and she's weird," translated Pietro.
"Hey!"
"My leg's injured though," Pietro said. "I rolled my ankle, and then one of those jerks hit me in the knee with something. Otherwise, Wanda and I would be long gone."
The tower door opened and a man stepped inside, holding a rifle. He shifted nervously from his right foot to his left before lifting the gun and pointing it at the three mutants. "You are to come outside immediately," he said in German. "It's time for you monsters to die."
"I thought you said we weren't due for execution for a few days," Pietro complained, still in Romani.
"They must have moved it up because of you," Kurt said. "No one wants three monsters in their church-tower around Christmas."
"Stop speaking in that vile language!" the man spat. "Come outside immediately. You," he gestured to Wanda with his rifle, "witch, help your sorcerer brother if he cannot walk."
"This is barbaric," Wanda muttered, helping Pietro stand. "I can't believe that there are still people who hold witch-burnings!"
The three mutants were forced from the tower at gunpoint. Wood was piled on the stage where the Maximoffs had been performing only the day before. Nearby, a nervous-looking Lutheran minister stood, clutching a large Bible.
"Father, forgive them," Kurt quoted in German as he was led onto the stage. "They know not what they do."
"Don't you dare quote scripture, demon!" their executioner hissed, striking Kurt in the jaw. Kurt reeled from the blow, but quickly got back up.
"If your enemy strikes you on one cheek," he quoted, "offer him the other as well."
The man reared back to hit him again, but was stopped by the minister. "That's enough, Herr Zimmerman!" the minister said. "If we must do this, then let's do it quickly."
"Why?" Zimmerman asked. "Don't you have the stomach for it, Reverend?"
The Reverend lowered his eyes to avoid meeting Zimmerman's gaze. "Perhaps I don't," he murmured under his breath.
"I think that you had best listen to the Reverend, Herr Zimmerman," said a voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once. "He seems to be the only one of you with any sense." Zimmerman's rifle pulled itself from his grip and whirled around to point at him.
"Witchcraft!" he shouted, falling down and scuttling backwards. "Stop this immediately!"
"Oh, it's not him." A man floated into view over the church tower. He was dressed in red and purple, with a matching helmet, and a cape clasped with a brooch displaying a symbol of a six-fingered hand. "It's me, Herr Zimmerman."
"Who-who are you?" Zimmerman stammered.
"I am known by many names," the man said, "but you can call me…" his lips quirked up in a small smile, "…Magneto."
…
To be continued…