Warning: Death and Destruction ahead.
This is a flashback to Chris and Alex's life before she was captured by demons.
Cliffside Sanctuary
Several hours later Alex, Walsh, and a few of the children were gathered, hurriedly writing spells on parchments. Others were mixing potions, trying different things to see what they came up with.
Alex stood proudly in the middle of the chaos, seemingly to blossom as she directed the children here and there, to do this and that. It was important that the young ones learned how to help themselves.
It was about mid-day when Alex looked up. Thru the cliff illusion she could see Wyatt standing there with Excalibur in hand. At his feet, the lookout Jari was dead.
Alex stood transfixed, unable to move or speak. Somehow she knew this was coming yet she could not raise the alarm now that the danger was here. It was not as if she couldn't; it was as if she was paralyzed from doing so, it was like she had no desire to, no inclination towards saving these people- witches' lives.
One of the grinning children pressed a pan into her hands, happy at the potion and hopping it met her teacher's approval. Alex stared at it dumbly; her mind stuck and unable to comprehend what she was holding; unable to tell the anxiously waiting child if the potion was good or not.
The child looked at her in wonder, knowing that Alex wasn't currently well. From Alex's nerveless fingers, the potion spilled from her hands, coating the sand momentarily a bright purple. Confused at what was going on, several of the children raised their heads, wonderingly. They spotted Wyatt who had a force of warlocks blinking in beside him.
Markus gave the cry of alarm and the children scattered.
Wyatt grinned, the cliff illusion as air to him. He raised his sword and cut an opening as if it was a gauzy curtain. Warlocks grinned triumphantly, streaming in and grabbing for the children.
Bravely, they threw their hot potions, injuring and vanquishing a few. Markus grabbed a burning log, using the fiery brand like a club. Liz directed many of the younger children into the back of the cave where Quinton's kids were creating a portal for evacuation.
Peaceful Daphne raised her arms, directing a mass of birds to swoop down and scratch at the attackers' eyes. But moments later the cliff illusion winked out as a warlock stood over Daphne, her body bleeding into the sands at his feet. A knife was in his hand and was dripping with her blood. A screaming demon ran across, trying to throw off a clinging, biting, and scratching Petra.
Alex felt arms around her, throwing her to the ground as a fire ball whizzed past. Walsh was screaming in her face, saying something important that Alex could not understand. She lay there dumbly, her brain wanting her to move, yelling at her to fight but the barrier between thought and action remained thick and she was incapable of movement.
Walsh got up, dragging at Alex's arms, yelling at the others to evacuate. The sharp smell of burning flesh and blood reached Alex and she knew that Walsh had been hit by the fireball meant for her. He jerked her arm, trying to pull her forward but collapsed to his knees as another fireball hit him. He pulled Alex down, trying to protect her with his body. He stared down the circle of demons and warlocks standing over them.
Alex put her hands over her abdomen and opened her mouth to scream but only a croak came. It seemed that more was needed for her to be able to talk.
Wyatt strode up, confident in his win. Several of the adults lay dead, next to bodies of children. The still struggling kids were being held tightly by warlocks, now captives. Thankfully Liz and most of the children were gone. Alex, Walsh, and very few others remained.
Wyatt stepped up, smiling victorious.
"It seems Chris has abandoned you. Where is the accursed thorn in my thigh?"
Walsh spat at Wyatt's feet.
"Like I'd really tell you."
The tyrant raised his hand, forming a fist and Walsh started sputtering, unable to breath. Wyatt relaxed his hand, looking interestingly at Walsh but his hand stayed up and ready to form a fist. "I say again, where is Christopher Perry?"
"I can't tell you."
Wyatt formed his fist again and Walsh sputtered, choking. "No matter, I still have quite a prize. Hello, dear little Alexandra. And how are you today?" Wyatt smiled evilly as Walsh collapsed unconscious.
Alex looked up at Wyatt, her hands still held protectively over her stomach. She gasped, her mouth working, like she was trying to throw up or fight it. She gave several croaks, unable to speak.
Wyatt frowned in worry and turned to the laughing warlocks surrounding them. "I thought I told you Alexandra was NOT to be touched!" He waved his hand, vanquishing those nearest to her.
Tears started flowing from Alex's eyes and she gave a choked cry. Wyatt knelt next to her, taking her chin in hand and turning her verdant green eyes to his blue ones.
"Please, are you hurt anywhere? Did you get hit? Little One?"
Alex only gave some choked cries, unable to answer. She knew she could not tell Wyatt. Her body jerked again, like she was trying to throw up. She looked pleadingly at Wyatt, unable to talk.
Then, like someone cut her strings, Alex collapsed unconscious.
Wyatt froze in shock, lifting his hands to heal her but there was nothing to heal. There wasn't a mark on her.
Instead, he picked her up, cradling her body to his. Her body limp in his arms.
"Master, why not just kill her?" a warlock asked.
Wyatt clenched his jaw, the warlock going up in flames.
"She will lead me to the rebel Christopher Perry. Do not question me again. Bring the prisoners." Wyatt orbed out to his own, private bedchambers.
Very few knew of Wyatt's family, other then the Charmed Ones, of course. He knew his enemies would be eager to use his remaining family against him. Since Alex had been adopted 10 years ago, less knew about her existence and Wyatt made sure to keep it that way.
The Charmed Ones museum was dedicated to the Halliwell sisters but didn't cover anything about their children. It barely even mentioned Wyatt, though the museum was a testament to his power.
Wyatt put his unconscious sister onto the large 4-poster bed. He pulled back her wild, sand and salt crusted hair. In a move reminiscent of his mother, he spit on a handkerchief and started wiping off some of the grime. Sand and salt crystals fell and Wyatt orbed them away. He rearranged her on the bed, covering her with the blankets.
He had to go back and search the cliff hollow for clues as to where his brother was. His inner bedrooms were private and no one would dare to enter and so would not disturb the sleeping Alex here. His trusted servant, an indebted house brownie would clean the area, maybe even give Alex a bath.
Reluctantly, Wyatt pulled out a potion bottle from his bedside cabinet. It was clearly marked "Alexandra."
He uncorked it and poured it down her throat, using his powers to ease its passing. Alex glowed a tinkling blue for a moment before it burst outwards like a bubble, twinkling away.
Her powers were bound now.
She was trapped.
That done, Wyatt orbed out to find his brother.
At the Cliffside:
Wyatt had the demons and warlocks in his service remove all the dead corpses. The bodies were hung in plazas and off bridges. A grizzly reminder to all those who defied him what their end would be.
The survivors had their powers bound and were thrown into the prisons. They would be interrogated in depth later.
The magic that remained in the cave was stripped and so were all signs of human life. It was an unnecessary step but Wyatt knew the Cleaners were off in Arizona, removing human interferences.
These Cleaners were not the old Cleaners, the magical beings charged with keeping magic hidden and secret. No, these new Cleaners were a clan of beings that viewed humans as a disease upon the earth. They traveled from area to area, removing all signs of human interferences and influence. Their mission was to return the world to its original, natural state.
Several cities had guardians, such as Wyatt and his home town San Francisco, who had treaties with the Cleaners. These cities were safe from erasure and people not willing to risk being erased themselves gathered in these protected metropolises.
Some people still risked the Cleaners, living in hovel towns that could be packed up and moved. The Cleaners were not above killing and erasing humans but it was easy to know were the Cleaners were currently working. These refugee towns risked all to remain free and out from under a tyrants rule.
The Cleaners mission, to erase humanities perversities, gave Wyatt power. They kept people in his cities, kept rebel witches near where they could be easier to find and destroy.
He wanted to keep these extremists, these new Cleaners, on good terms with him so that after the bodies and prisoners removed, the Cliffside sanctuary was returned to its original state.
The only indication on what it had once been was the placement of hidden warning probes for if the rebels came back.
Wyatt knew this was a slim chance, to capture his brother or the rebels on their return but maybe he could get lucky. Unfortunately, the 'cleaning' of the Cliffside sanctuary did not turn up any clues as to where his brother was. It did have a clue as to what he was doing, since the fire was littered with different cloaking potions.
The only need for large quantities of cloaking potions was if a large number of witches and humans needed to be hidden.
The search of the city began.
Alex woke to the sensation of someone watching her. She woke up, jerked out of sleep by incredible fear, a sense of dread that seeped thru to her soul.
Her eyes darted quickly around the unfamiliar room, around the unfamiliar bed. Thru gauzy bed curtains she could see a dark figure lurking. Her mouth worked, trying to call out but nothing came, just the moaning croak she was able to give before.
The dark figure moved his voice deep and sibilant.
"I see you are awake."
Alex shrunk back from the voice, terrified. Whoever this was, was not a friend. The sense of evil was palpable in the air.
Her actions amused the dark figure, it chuckled a soft, cruel laugh, reminding her of bullies in school as they ganged up on her.
"I would say do not be afraid but that would be lie. I know who you are. I know what you are." The dark figure moved closer and reached out a clawed hand to stroke down her cheek. The nails caught her skin and drew a thin line of blood.
Alex wanted to bat the hand away, jerk from the touch but she could not move; still gripped in the paralysis. She started crying, chest deep sobs as tears and blood fell to the coverlet below.
"I know what has been done to you." His clawed hand kept going, over her neck and down her body.
Alex lay there helpless and afraid, shivering with the turbulent of emotions. She tried to call out for her big brother, for Wyatt but her voice was still on strike.
"You will bring me much power, witch."
The dark figure signaled and two burly demon guards grabbed her from the bed, holding her tight despite her struggles. One of them held her head back so far it was in danger of snapping and killing her.
The dark figure slapped the guard. "Don't kill her. It doesn't matter if she is damaged but I need her alive."
The demons obeyed and shimmered out with their prisoner.
The dark figure inspected the room, the fluffy pillows, the bright colors, the family pictures. All signs of a weak man. A sentimental ruler. Trappings of a pacifistic whitelighter pretending to be king. A pretender who let power, absolute power slip thru his fingers.
The demon Citonco would not make the same mistake.
He laughed as he threw an empty vial upon the bed. When his competitor returned, he'd find the witch gone, a power re-instating potion and come to the conclusion that it had escaped.
This would leave him free to play and torture the witch, draw out the powers placed within her.
He gave a twisted smile, knowing that revenge and a kingdom was at hand and shimmered out.
There was much to do today before he could go visit his dungeons.
