2024
Laying her chin on her hands, Bianca looked at the board in front of her. It was crisscrossed with tiny two colour squares red as blood and black as midnight. She had taken the former whilst Wyatt had taken the latter. After many moments of thought, she lifted her head and stretched out her arm, moving the coin-shaped checker piece one spot to the right.
"Did I ever tell you that I'm the master of this game?" he commented.
"Many a time," she replied absently.
"I always win," he gloated. Glancing down at the board he saw what she had done. "Hey, you blocked me in!"
"Did I?" she asked innocently.
Pouting, he leant his elbow on the table and dropped his jaw into his hand. Studying the board, he reached for one checker piece, drew back before touching it, reached for another, decided against it, and moved another nearby, leaping over her red coin and snatching in into the air, smiling triumphantly as he held up his closed fist. Watching him, her expression unfazed, Bianca reached back to the board and moved her coin over three of his, Wyatt's jubilance evidently souring.
"I can't do anything. We might as well quit. How did you beat me?" he asked incredulously.
"It pays to stay one step ahead of your opponent," Bianca started, drawing back.
"Most of my opponents are dim-witted fools anyway," Wyatt said.
Pushing himself to his feet, he looked around the room thoughtfully, the sky growing progressively darker out the window. "I propose an elaborate celebration for the winner."
Bianca watched him attentively. "What did you have in mind?"
"Fireworks, fruit, dragons and lanterns."
"That is elaborate," Bianca commented. "I take it you're not going to conduct that in this tiny apartment?"
"Well, no. It's pre-planned. A little thing called Chinese New Year."
"Ah," Bianca remarked, now seeing what he meant – the annual celebration down in Chinatown.
"Care to join me?" he asked. Waving his hand an expensive dress orbed its way onto the seat of the nearby armchair. Bianca glanced over to the neatly folded bundle, slightly bemused and quizzical as she looked back to him. "It is traditional to wear red."
"How do you know I haven't got somewhere else to go?"
"You never have anything else to do. At least not the ninety percent of the time I'm with you." Seeing her drop her head dejectedly, he continued in a more spirited manner: "Just because you work for me doesn't mean we can't have a little fun."
"I know," she said morosely. Glancing back up at him she inquired further. "Fun with a job on the side, right?"
"You've been around me too long," Wyatt said, shaking his head. "There are always warfare leaders hiding in that community, and yes tonight, the one time of year when they put down their magic and weapons, would be an opportune moment for us to dispose of one of them. But I meant what I said, I want to celebrate your win."
"Okay," she agreed.
Glancing over to the armchair, she reached for the dress and pulled it towards her, allowing it to unfold as she lifted it before her to inspect it.
"It's also tradition that people get changed in the living room." Wyatt said slyly.
Lowering the dress to her lap, she glared at him. "I'll use my own, thanks."
Without waiting for him to retaliate, she shimmered back to her place, changing into the delicate red material and winding her hair back. As she pushed a sharpened rod into her hair to fasten it, she paused halfway with her arm still in the air staring at her reflection. It was another thing Michael had drummed into her. She hated the way that she still blindly followed everything he had told her without him being around. Frustrated, she dropped her hand down and turned quickly, hating the image she saw, the reflected self of what he had made her to be. Throwing open her cupboard she looked for a pair of shoes to match, sitting on the bed as she pulled them on and thinking she'd rather throw them across the room at something to watch it become as broken as she felt inside.
Drawing in a deep breath to calm herself and resolve her composure, she shimmered back to Wyatt's apartment, her mood quickly lifting once she spied the red shirt he was wearing. Seeing the smothered amusement on her face, he looked down at his clothes.
"Too bright, isn't it?" he questioned rhetorically. Lifting the shirt over his head, he scrunched it up into a ball and tossed it onto the couch, orbing a deep burgundy coloured shirt to himself as a replacement and pulling it on. "Wonder if that's dark enough to hide the blood stains."
"You really are planning a slaughter, aren't you?" she questioned. His gaze moved over to hers.
"Don't tell me you're afraid," he said in a low, mocking voice. Bianca shook her head. Wyatt smiled with approval. "That's a good girl."
She raised her eyebrows inquiringly at the comment, but seeing she was going to receive no explanation for it she simply shrugged it off and said: "Occasionally I'd just like to know what our objective is before we get there."
"Fun," Wyatt replied cheerily. "Mischief and mayhem in a strict environment."
"Is there any real cause to this?"
"No," Wyatt replied innocently. "But we'll find one."
Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. Taking a step closer, she suddenly found herself transported to a narrow street. Hundreds of people filled the street. She felt herself pushed back as two teen boys ran past.
"Hey!" she shouted after them, regaining her footing. They continued on their way, ignoring her, her voice almost drowned out by the celebrations of the jubilant crowd.
Looking around she saw that despite the time so infinitely immersed in nightfall, the street was hardly dark. Every metre or two hung brightly coloured lanterns, lights blazing from the inside of every paper box. Children waved around sparklers, and there was the distant sound of people letting small crackers off. Everywhere she looked there was music and laughter and joy. Glancing at Wyatt as if he was her only salvation in this environment where she was beginning to feel more than uncomfortable, she stepped behind him as he motioned for her to follow him up the street. Glaring almost hatefully at the cheerful children who brushed past, she continued weaving her way through the assortment of bodies in Wyatt's stead, her attention suddenly caught by the bright lights exploding in the air. Wyatt stopped in a clearing less filled with exhilarated people, turning his head up towards the sky as he watched also.
"For the world's incumbency does make vain light seek itself, and calling itself, light of light, itself it beguiles. So, unless one finds where light in darkness lies, light grows dark by the loss of one's eyes," Wyatt quoted contemplatively.
Bianca lowered her head to look at him. "You're not going to gouge someone's eyes out?"
His eyes turning towards hers, he laughed and shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walked towards her, looking down at her as he stepped closely by her.
"No, it's Shakespeare," he explained. "Although I have been known to pop my own out on occasion."
Bianca's mouth dropped open in shock, horrified to hear such a thing. She watched him to see if he was serious, looking for a hint in his composure that he was joking, but instead he just turned his head back up towards the sky watching the fireworks pop into streaming star-like patterns.
"So simple," he mused. "One of these days they're going to think of something elaborate to do."
"Is it always the same?" Bianca asked, looking back up to watch the sequence. She couldn't remember having seen a fireworks display since she was little, although she was aware of the few times she had gone out on special occasions, but they were Phoenix missions and she spent more time focused on the task at hand than what was going on around her. They never gave her time to stop and think, to relax and wonder, for they were always on the move until the job was done.
"Yes," Wyatt sighed. "Just goes to show what lack of imagination mere mortals have. I suppose if they had the power they'd think of more interesting ways to display things."
"I think it's more to do with the capability of the device than the person who triggers it," Bianca stated.
"I suppose that's the advantage of being infinitely gifted," Wyatt said. Removing his hands from his pockets, he lifted them into the air, turning his palms up as he generated a stream of bluish-white orbs from his hands. "Like the ancient earthly gazers of heaven's lights who give a name to every fixed star, have no more profit from their shining night than others who walk the Earth and know not what they are."
Watching them intertwine as they rose into the air, Bianca saw the orbs billow out into a conical shape, the ends flickering out at the sides until they moved up and down as the body solidified. A small smile crossed her face as she realised it was a bird, its white appearance making it look more like a dove than anything else. After a few flaps of its wings, and a little push upwards from Wyatt's palms, the wings grew longer, spreading out at the sides until they joined at the bottom, the body having sunken into an m shape. She looked at the heart, her eyes glancing away briefly towards the young children who had come to watch his antics. As she looked back, seeing him lift one hand, circling it around as he concentrated on what was above him, she saw the heart split into two, its ends joining into two separate rings that floated towards one another, linking and twisting as he moved his hands in the air to spin them around.
Behind him, a young child shoved a handful of crackers into a box and set them alight. The loud explosion startled both Wyatt and Bianca. Wyatt instantly lost his concentration – dropping his hands down, the orbs disintegrating into nothingness as he looked around anxiously. Just as warily Bianca glanced around them, conjuring an athame into her hand without thinking – it was strictly second-nature to her. Hearing the culprits gasp and run from her at the sight, her attention was drawn to the small area they had been gathered around, and what remained of the pieces of box. Kneeling down she inspected the damage, glancing up to Wyatt as she determined there was no threat.
"It's okay. Just some kids making a nuisance of themselves," she said.
"Weren't we the ones who were meant to be causing trouble?" he jibed. Getting little to no reaction from Bianca, he continued in a more serious tone: "Perhaps we should mingle."
Standing, Bianca followed him back into the midst of the crowd, carefully vanishing the athame from her grip. She didn't want to have to hurt anyone unnecessarily. Loud clanging sounds coming up behind them, they dodged out of the way onto the pathway and people came dancing down the street with instruments in hand, a giant multi-coloured dragon waving about in tow.
"Year of the dragon," Wyatt whispered to Bianca as they watched the parade pass.
Moving back onto the street, they only walked a little further before Wyatt headed for the stalls, his mind obviously still on fun over mayhem as he picked up three tangerines from the fruit stall before them.
"Watch this," he said, turning back to Bianca.
Slowly the pieces of fruit rose into the air surrounded by orbs, one at a time until they all hung suspended. After a moment they each dropped, one after the other until he was magically juggling them. Someone bumping into him as they passed, breaking his concentration, one fell forward, Bianca snatching it quickly into her hand as Wyatt set the remainder in his palms, gently placing them back where he'd gotten them from.
"Here," Bianca said, handing the last to him.
As the tangerine exchanged hands, Wyatt watched on in dismay as the leaf tumbled from the stem to the ground. Staring at the fruit, he lifted his gaze sorrowfully to Bianca's. She returned it with one of impatience, unaware of what had just happened. She had no idea of this culture's customs or superstitions, but Wyatt knew them well, and he recognised the sign. Just like the leaf breaking from the tangerine, their relationship was not going to last the year through – it was destined to fall apart also.
"You must pay for those!" the vendor yelled at Wyatt as he placed the last tangerine back.
"I'm not paying for it. It's broken," Wyatt said, offering a feeble excuse for his impish activities.
"You littered my goods with your dirty hands! You keep your filthy magic to yourself!"
"Filthy?" Wyatt repeated, his eyes narrowing. "I don't think a paltry inferior person such as you should be directing such language at me."
Locking his hands underneath the cart, he turned it up back towards the man, burying him a mound of fruit as it all tumbled backwards. Glancing overhead at the cloth overhang framed by a dozen lanterns, Wyatt lifted his hand and tossed an energy ball at the corners, the drapery falling down over the man, the lanterns smashing onto the ground and sparking alight. Grabbing Bianca's hand, he pulled her back with him away from the chaotic mess and onto the street again. Glancing around abhorrently at the fearless people, who felt the need to defend the vendor and attack Wyatt, he let go of Bianca and splayed an array of magic across his surrounds. Confused by the onrush of orbs, most of the people froze in awe, the ignorant ones racing forward only to be knocked back as Wyatt activated his forcefield, the blue bubble rising up and around his figure. Glancing behind him, he saw a good opportunity for Bianca to escape, he just had to send her after someone else.
"Bianca, that's the warlord! Follow him!" he commanded.
Turning, Bianca saw a middle-aged agile man leaping through a portal. Glancing back quickly to Wyatt and nodding, she took up chase and ran after him, leaping through as the portal closed. She discovered upon landing that it was merely a transportation means. She'd arrived at his home, a large manor, and was standing by the pool in his backyard. Another few inches to her right and they would have landed in the water. She looked about the darkened yard, only slightly illuminated by the tiki torches that stood around the pool and garden. The warlord was nowhere in sight. Glancing to her left, she looked up the length of the house, searching for a lighted room inside where he could be hiding.
"Chris, can you get that?" an elderly man called out from the storeroom.
"I've got a customer!" Chris yelled back.
With a heavy sigh, the old man emerged from the back room into the store and picked up the receiver, peering sourly at Chris over his glasses as the young boy folded his arms and turned back to the unsure woman in front of him, smiling conceitedly.
"FTC Skateboarding, Gary speaking," the old man said into the phone.
"I'm sorry about that," Chris apologised. "Now, as I was saying, this board here is a beauty. It's made by Initial who are one of the best companies around. If you'll notice the deck is made of different types of wood layers which make it ten times stronger than the original series. I even tried it myself on this notoriously difficult cement stretch where most boards get ruined, but this one held up quite well. I know it looks expensive, but it's built to last, which means that it's well worth the money. Your son will love it, I can assure you. And hey, it's super glossy and looks really nice, that should appeal to you as well right? So it doesn't look as if you went and paid twenty bucks to a friend for a second-hand one. This looks incredibly special and he's gonna know how important he is to you if this is what you give him."
"I really don't know," the woman said, looking at it thoughtfully. "Maybe I should come back."
"Well it's the last one. I wouldn't think about it for too long. They sell quite quickly," Chris said, repeating one of his age old sales pitches. Sweetly he added: "I'm sure you won't be disappointed."
"Okay then. I suppose you're right," the woman agreed, sighing. "If it's going to last him a while then it's worth it."
Chris pulled the skateboard off the wall. Following Chris over to the register as she fumbled for money in her purse, she looked back towards the glass display windows at the front of the store as a roar sounded outside. Chris, laying the skateboard flat on the counter, looked up also to see a giant mythical creature flying past the window outside. His mouth dropping open slightly, he looked over to Gary as he put the receiver back in the cradle.
"I, uh, have to go," he said.
Leaving the lady stranded on the other side of the counter, Chris raced around it back towards the wall, pulling down a hoverboard and leaping onto the deck.
"Chris, what are you doing? You haven't even finished the sale!" Gary yelled.
"I'm taking care of something," Chris explained, starting up the hoverboard so that it rose a little higher off the ground.
"You can't leave! Your shift isn't over," Gary protested. Seeing Chris push off the ground with his foot towards the door, he continued to shout: "What the hell are you doing? You can't steal the merchandise!"
"I'll pay for it," Chris said offhandedly. As he left, he looked over his shoulder, calling back: "If you need someone, get Justin. He owes me anyway for setting him up with my cousin."
Following the dragon down the street, Chris tilted the board slightly as it quickly turned the corner, hearing the air gush out as it came into contact with nothingness, easing himself back so that the propulsion pushed against the road again. He was moving fast, but not as fast as the dragon before him. Seeing it glide up and over a large house, Chris knew he had no choice but to orb. He couldn't make the board climb that high; it didn't have enough power in it. Squaring himself off steadily, he orbed both himself and the hoverboard to the backyard. As he reappeared, he glanced quickly up to the sky to see the dragon was now starting to make its descent. Looking ahead of him as the board glided forward, he saw there was a young girl standing mystified off to his right. Passing her, he grabbed her arm and hauled her up, the board continuing over the water and then stopping.
"Shit," Chris cursed, only now realising the board didn't run on water.
The abrupt stop threw both of them forward into the water. Chris was the first to land, and the first to surface. Looking up he saw the dragon coming towards them, Bianca surfacing next to them. Instantly he reached out towards her before she had a chance to clear her eyes, pushing her back down under the water. She wrestled beneath his grip, struggling to get to the surface as he held her down. The dragon opening his mouth, Chris ducked under the water as a large barrage of flame skipped across the water's surface and incinerated the garden around it.
Underneath the water, Bianca finally got her first look at the perpetrator as he sank underneath with her, still holding onto her tightly. Her time running out, she felt herself breathe in a mouthful of water. Tilting herself back as she tried to pull away, she kicked him harshly with her feet, his grip finally loosening enough for her to push herself to the surface, gasping and coughing as she did so. Chris rose up after her, his hands still securely on her arms, this time holding her more up than down for buoyancy. Tossing her head to the side as she tried to get the hair out of her face, her brown eyes met his bright green ones showing both concern and something like fascination for her. Their eyes stayed locked on one another for a few seconds as they bobbed in the matter before Bianca's expression grew colder, roughly pushing and kicking at him until she could propel herself back through the water away from him.
Wading her way to the edge, she pulled herself up out of the pool, holding onto her stomach as she coughed again, her lungs trying to expel the water it had taken in. Chris swam to the stairs, climbing his way out of the pool as he walked towards her. She held up her hand warily.
"Don't come any closer. Not unless you want me to do some major damage to you," she threatened. Coughing again, she brushed the hair away from her face, her hair clip obviously lost somewhere in the middle of the pool. "Mind telling me what that was for? I don't appreciate being drowned for nothing."
Placing his hands on his hips, Chris glanced up to the sky. He saw the dragon circle once more before it took off, Bianca only seeing its tail before it disappeared.
"I was trying to save you," Chris said somewhat apologetically, although the irritation still showed through in his voice. "Unless you don't mind being a burnt-up corpse. But you see, the thing is, I like to keep people alive."
"Nice way of showing it," Bianca said snidely.
"You try being in my shoes. It's not like I want to keep chasing after the mess some people cause," Chris said. Bianca looked at him strangely. "My brother has a fondness for dragons. Or didn't you know that?"
"I don't know you," Bianca argued. "Or your brother. In fact the only thing I know is thanks to you I now have a lung full of water."
"That's gotta be a lot less than you've endured hanging around him," Chris said, watching on as she coughed again.
"Who?"
"Wyatt."
Bianca lifted her gaze towards him, her eyes for the first time looking properly at the figure standing before her. This was Chris, the one from the book, the brother who Wyatt was on such bad terms with. It was no surprise to her in this case that he would be bad-mouthing the very man who was providing her living.
"I have a job to do," she said coldly, not wanting to enter into any personal discussions with him. "So if you don't mind, I'd like to be left alone, and you can go chase after your little dragon friend and achieve your high moral standing."
"Fine, I will. But you just remember - he's bad business. If you need help…"
"I don't need your kind of help," Bianca said.
Grinding his teeth, Chris orbed out, leaving Bianca alone. Doing a quick surveillance scan of the sky and what remained of the yard, she noticed that part of the door to the manor had also been scorched, leaving an easy access point for her to get in. Smirking, she made her way over to the door, raising her leg and kicking it in with her heel.