Prologue:
Ah Valkyrie….
We had some good times didn't we? We became legends, saving lives, saving the world. We were unstoppable. For centuries. You know, I still remember when you were twelve, defending yourself with a fire poker.
But, unfortunately, you didn't get to live a full life. I must admit, you had many enemies. But we were both foolish and were under the false hope that when you decided to retire, the new grand mage would make a full effort to keep you safe. But of course, he didn't. So here I am, in a world without Valkyrie Cain, and where her killer roams free. A stupid mortal. Just one bullet and that was it.
But you already know this. You were the one that died after all. Valkyrie, I'm done with this. The glory is gone, you're gone, the dead men are gone, heck, everything worth fighting for is gone. There's only one thing left to do. All of this anger I have, it has to go somewhere, and at this point, I really don't care if Vile destroys the world or not.
Skulduggery Pleasant.
Grand Mage Severe looked gravely at the mortal leaders. They had declared war on magic nine years ago when Lord Vile destroyed most of New York in search for Valkyrie Cain's killer. As the last Grand Mage left, Severe was the last person to represent the magic community. Or what was left of it.
The humans had destroyed all of the sanctuaries except for the Irish sanctuary, forcing all magical beings into hiding. Now, the magic community was on the brink of extinction, and the mortals were completely crippled from debts, population decrease, and lack of resources. Their governments had collapsed and they were forced to form small, isolated towns.
One would have thought that it would be easy to gain the upper hand once they had fallen into chaos, but the fact was, the magic community wasn't in very good shape either. It was entirely impossible to defeat them when all of the magic beings refused to follow the old rules, the sanctuary's rules.
The title 'Grand Mage' was an empty one, with no importance or meaning, much like the mortal leaders standing before him. They had all been stripped of all respect or power their people had trusted with them.
The former president of America cleared his throat and looked at Severe with cold eyes, "Grand Mage. I believe it's time we discuss the matters at hand." He gestured for Severe to sit and he did so, very slowly, never taking his eyes off the mortals. He wouldn't have been the first Mage to be slaughtered under false peace agreements.
The former king of Britain poured them all glasses of champagne, which all of them ignored. Severe kept his expression blank and devoid of emotion. The American president, who was hosting this gathering in the last modernized building in the city of D.C., smiled in the same way that a farmer does at a chicken before slicing it's head off,
"Now gentlemen, I'd like to point out a few things to the Grand Mage Severe before revealing my intentions for this meeting."
All eyes were on Severe now.
"First off, your people have been picking us off for centuries. Then, you simply sweep it under the rug and pretend that it didn't happen. You never bothered to tell the authorities, our government, or the victim's families the truth." The president paused to take a breath before continuing.
Severe felt his temperature rising steadily, his anger growing with every second.
"Then, when one of your necromancers destroys the great city of New York, we defend ourselves, completely taken off guard by the existence of magic, and your people take it as an opportunity to attack us." The American said, his voice laced with fake emotions. He wiped an imaginary tear away, "That isn't to say that you haven't suffered losses as well, the necromancers for instance…"
Severe almost strangled him then and there. The necromancers, who were determined to sty out of the fighting and stay peaceful, had barricaded themselves into their temples. It was a slaughterhouse when the Americans, Japanese, and British joined up and bombed their temples. No necromancer remained, and so a whole line of magic was destroyed.
"…But despite all that you have inflicted on the human race, we're still willing to offer you our peace." The American took out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Severe. Severe had lost his composed look and was now fuming as he sloppily opened the paper. Written in big bold letters at the top were the words,
Terms of Surrender
The American handed Severe a pen, smiling that sly, smug, smile, "If you sign this Grand Mage, we will go back to living peacefully. You're people will be given a certain portion of land to live in where you may practice your talents."
Severe looked at the paper. It was the best type of paper. It was old-ish, and faded. It smelled of dust and the way the world smelled after a rain. It was the type of paper used to change the world.
Severe felt the mortal's eyes on him as he considered his options. He could always kill them, but that would accomplish nothing to help with the war. The only option was to save his broken society. Him. The Grand Mage. He sighed and reminded himself that his title was empty. Devoid of meaning. Who was he to turn over his whole world to these terms of living?
But if he didn't, then these savages, these mortals would surely crush them and destroy every trace of magic in the world.
The paper was staring at him too. Urging him to write on it's beautiful surface. The pen practically humming with energy. This pen wanted to change the world. It wanted this world to end. Severe drove the pen down onto the paper, nearly tearing it, and scratched his signature onto the paper that changed the world forever.
