AN: It's my first time writing here, so please be nice! There won't be many spoilers, as it's a descendent-type story with none of the original characters, apart from Sherlock from Sherlock (duh), the Doctor from Doctor Who (obviously) and Skulduggery and China from Skulduggery Pleasant (I think you get it by now.)
Prologue
Wind rustled through the room although she were deep, deep underground, pushing and prodding at the flames of the candles that were arranged on the shelves in small clusters of light. It started out as a breeze or a waft of hot, dry air that carried the faint sound of the screams of the dead and dying, but rose to a howling gale that whipped jars off the shelves shattered them against the marble floors. A scent of soggy marshes, not the kind you would want be walking through in any circumstances, filled the room with it's moist and rancid stench. The candles were extinguished as one as if they had been snuffed out by invisible fingers and the wind now nothing short of a hurricane- sent her hat flying off her head as she grasped for it, but couldn't catch it in time as it spun like a flying saucer. It landed in the corner.
A deep laugh rang like church bells around her, bouncing off the walls and chilled her to her core. Smoke from the steaming candles rose up and collected in the air, solidifying into two closed eyelids. She was transfixed by the sight. She stepped closer, tilting her head to comprehend what she was seeing.
'Hi.' The two eyes opened, revealing a pair of electric green irises with no whites, only swirling smoke.
She leapt back, remembering who- and what- she was dealing with.
'Don't worry. It's nothing serious. Nothing compared to the true extent of my power.'
Out of nowhere, the howling gale stopped and died down. She couldn't stop but gasp at the show of power. No. Don't be distracted. You're here for a reason.
'I ch-charge you,' she stuttered, trying to remember the usual procedure, 't-to answer me truthfully, demon.' She took a deep breath. 'Are you Axryl of Memphis? Otherwise known as Abanon of the Whistling Planes, Ratonhnkaketom-' she stumbled on the name, '- of Plovdiv, Damascia of Olympia, Lucretia of the Roman Republic? Answer me!'
The large eyes looked at her bleakly. 'You already know my name, but it is Axryl.'
'I was only checking. ' She cleared her throat. 'I-I charge you to liberate the Jitter Girls from the holding cells of the Irish Sanctuary and release them into London.'
'Ooh, someone's getting to the point. And why don't you make me bring you a leprechaun while I'm at it. I don't know what you're talking about. Never heard about any Irish Sanctuary or anything like that.' The green eyes narrowed. 'Talking about Ireland, where are we?'
'A-America.'
'America. It's been a long while since I was here last. I thought all of the knowledge of us was destroyed. How did you know how to summon me? Are you a magician or what? You don't look like one.'
'We prefer the word Mage,' she squeaked trying to sound grand, not sounding very grand at all. 'We're not magicians. Party tricks aren't part of our repertoire. Don't you know who I am?' she asked, recovering some of her dignity.
'Haven't the foggiest.'
'I am Laira Bloom, the Grand Mage of the Sanctuary of America,' she said firmly. 'And you will fear me.'
There was silence in the room. Not even the candles flickered. If the eyes had eyebrows, they would have raised skeptically. Axryl laughed. 'Is that supposed to be impressive? Because fancy titles aren't going to stop me from frying you like a duck in a frying pan as soon as you step out of that circle.'
Laira bristled. In her world, everyone knew exactly who she was. Who was this- this demon to threaten her? She shook off her fear and sent an Essence Lance crackling at Axryl, who yelped as it hit its right eye. 'You really don't know anything about us?' Laira smiled, growing bolder. She felt confident enough to send another Essence Lance at the demon. Possibly, she had overestimated Axryl. This… thing didn't know anything about her world. It didn't know how dangerous she was and how dangerous it was to oppose her. It probably thought all humans did was frolic through the grass all day, content to be perfectly defenceless. And it was completely at her mercy. 'I guess I've overestimated you, then.'
'That's impossible,' Axryl's gaze hardened. 'We'll meet again. Outside of this summoning circle. Then we'll see who's truly overestimated.'
'If you insist. I'll be looking forwards to it, in fact. But good luck frying me. You have no idea what I'm capable of.' She spoke a quick and fluent Dismissal. The demon's edges blurred as it strained to keep itself in position.
'Wait,' it gasped, and Laira frowned and opened her mouth, ready to speak the second Dismissal. 'Where is this Irish Sanctuary holding cell? How can I get in?'
'Dublin Museum.' She smiled. Time to kill two birds with one stone. 'If people ask your name or you get caught, say that China Sorrows sent you.' Before the demon could protest, she spoke the words of Dismissal sharply for the second time and the demon was pulled away, leaving nothing but the faint smell of marshes.
AN: Thanks for reading! There'll definitely be more chapters and it's really helpful if you can review it.
-Danawanna
