Welcome to Gaia! ::

I went through and capitalized the titles I noted, and broke up a few sentences that had gotten stuck together. I realize that it's hard to read through Old Jake's accent, but I appreciate any editing you do for me.

Before anyone gets scared, I'll go ahead and say that this is not the end of the story.


Seventh Movement - Dark Magic and the End of the World

This story is a continuation of the previous movement, Dark Magic and Old Acquaintances. Please read that chapter first, or this one will make little sense.

A nauseatingly salty breeze flowed through the morning air, scratching against the skin of Cosette Garidion, Narshe Landraner, and Old Jake. The three of them stood upon an old dock, petrified in a thick coat of salt. Not an insect buzzed on the lake, and no fish jumped in the water. The land was almost devoid of life, a desert of salt and water that seemed to be fighting against the living world like some sort of vile cancer.

"This place's unnervin' Cosette." Old Jake pulled his coat tighter and held his hat down with one hand. " 'is gets in my joints' and we'll 'av some probl'ms, ya 'ere?"

"Heh, it would fit your 'old man' image so much better." Cosette grinned, apparently not fazed by the salty wind.

"No worries, Jakob." Narshe pulled a scroll from her pack and examined it. "According to these charts, our ship makes port any moment."

"I knows you got sum strange allies an' wot Cosette, jus' make sure 'ey don' try and take me 'ome with 'm like the oth'r one." Jake's metal expression remained unchanged.

"Rest assured." Cosette peered off the edge of the docks into the water, then back onto the chart Narshe was holding. "The boatman isn't as hotheaded as Hylie--or so I've read."

Just as she leaned back to check the chart, a huge rumbling noise echoed deep within the lake, and a maelstrom seemed to appear beneath it. In a gush of salty water that knocked Cosette off her feet and into Narshe, a massive galley of petrified wood rose up from the Dead Sea, coming to rest in the waters, its creaking mast fighting the wind to be the only sound in a silent, unliving world.

"Uh. Agh!" Cosette tried to untangle herself from Narshe's cloak, but found her white dress tangled up in the vampire's cloak, completely hindering any kind of movement. "Let me go!"

"Why always such a rush, Mistress...? Here's as good a place as any to get to know one another better..." Narshe put a hand behind Cosette's head, and slowly brought it closer to her lips.

"Oi! Aye've seen many things on this dock, but here's a first!" A gruff voice interrupted from the ship, which lowered a plank onto the dock. A man dressed in a long red cloak stepped onto the bridge to land and began to walk down it. "Yew look like ready travelers," the man had sallow white skin speckled with yellow spots, and dirty gray hair. His ragged coat seemed to weave into existence and out again, unsure of where to begin an end. "Could it be ye' seek passage to 'ell?"

"As it happens," Cosette broke out of Narshe's grip and stood, with a little help from Old Jake. "We have right of passage to other places." She brushed herself and tried to regain what little dignity she could. "The document, servant." Cosette held out a gloved hand, and Narshe placed the scroll into it with a disappointed frown.

"Eh? Let me 'av a look see." The man's jaundiced yellow eyes fell upon the document, and he held out a withered hand.

"Not so fast." Cosette held up a finger. She uncinched the clasp on the scroll and unrolled it, displaying its contents to the man. "This document guarantees free rite of passage to Proserpine, and any of her descendants who bear it, on behalf of the his sovereign Plouton, delegated to the servant Charon, et cetera." Cosette recited as she displayed the document.

"Aye aye, can read the writin' ye' know. Mortals--wastin' every breath they got." The man looked Cosette up and down. "Yew can get on board, bearer o' the document. As fer the oth'rs..." Cosette rolled up the scroll and refastening its clasp, stepping onto the plank and boarding the vessel.

"I'm dead, so I get passage too!" Narshe cooed as she skipped passed him, not waiting for a response.

The man in red to turned to Old Jake, and looked him up and down. Deciding not to ask, he simply made a motion with his chin towards the boat, and the metal man walked past.


In a torrent of salt and lightning, like a living storm, the boatman's old ship splashed beneath the waves of the Dead Sea and arose moments later off of the coast of England.

The old boatman stood at the helm of the ship, pointing towards land. The moans of those eternally cursed to row the old galley filled the air, as they began to set upon shore to the time of a heavy drum. Oars creaked as the old boat of wood and bone lurched forward, its ever present salty breeze polluting the air of the Celtic Sea.

"I had imagined the boat was a little smaller." Cosette mused, looking up and down the length of the ship, and at the four hundred ghostly slaves driving it onward.

"Aye, t'was so back in the day when ye got yer' contract written up." Charon replied. "But ye mortals 've gotten so much bett'r at dyin' in bulk, decided wot I need's a bigger ship. Got this one jus' 'fore the start o' the firs' world 'ar. Damn good timin' too." He leaned over the rail of the helmsman's perch. "We'll make land soon, so git yerselves ready to dis'mbark." The boatman seemed eager to have the living off of his ship. Perhaps it was a stroke of pride in him.

Cosette stepped down from the ship, followed by Narshe and Old Jake. A somewhat mean smile crossing his sallow features, the boatman laughed, "Hopin' to see ye' again soon, Lady Garidion." As he laughed, his boat sank once more below the waves, and the smell of putrid salt cleared from the air slowly.

Watching the old boatman disappear beneath the waves, Narshe took a deep breath of fresh air. "What a boring old guy." She stuck out her tounge a bit, trying to clear the taste of the salty air from it. "So, Jakob, are you going to take us to Archeme?"

"I'll do as I must. But it hurts me to see you two youngins' fightin' amongst yerselves. 'Specially with you bein' such good friends before." Jakob turned to Cosette. "I don' want you to hurt Archeme."

"My only enemy is the clock, just like you." Cosette nodded to him. "But I'll kill Archeme if that's what it takes to save everyone." She steeled her resolve. "I know you understand, Uncle Jake, even if she won't," she said, looking his metal face and red, glowing eyes. "The world has to keep turning--none of us individually is more important than that."

Jake sighed, "Yer' a cold woman, Cosette. 'Suppose that's what it takes to save the world, but I sure as 'ell ain't got it. Mus' be why I couldn't become a soldier." He turned and began leading them toward the Kalika family Manor.


The Kalika Manor had been built several hundred years before, by Archeme's old ancestors on the less noteworthy side of her family. It was a tall building, perhaps three stories, set on a hill overlooking the sea. A rather scenic place, and might have been appreciated, were the mission at hand not so heavy upon the shoulders of Cosette and her companions. The front door to the place loomed threateningly above their heads, and a permanent smell of grease and metal filled the air about the manor.

"I want to talk to Archeme first." Cosette spoke to Jake and Narshe, "I want to see if I can learn more about her plans... as for you, Narshe, find and release Hylie. She must be held somewhere in here--probably the basements. Uncle Jake, I know you'll be welcomed home. I'm counting on you to guarantee me a safe chat with Archeme."

"As you wish, mistress." Narshe snapped into a red mist, and slipped through a crack in the walls of the old mansion.

"Lemme 'old you. 'Ey won't see you as a threat if I tell em' your coming as a pris'ner." Jake carefully grabbed Cosette's two wrists in his one hand, and pushed open the door to the manor.

The place was well lit, and had a polished feel to it. Four automaton guards stepped forward, brandishing heavy looking rifles. They aimed their weapons at Cosette, but Jake stepped in front of them. His eyes flashed in some sort of pattern, perhaps a computational code, and theirs flashed back at him in time. Turning up the barrels of their guns, they stepped back to let Jake and Cosette move forward. "It seems that Archeme has been expecting you. She watched our arrival via satellite."

"Is that so?" Cosette mused, as Jake released his grip. The man pointed ahead to a metal door Cosette did not remember from her previous stay in the Manor six years ago. It was made out of some sort of unearthly material that shone with an odd light. "Tha's the clock room." Jake spoke. "I won't be followin' you in--If the clock tells me to kill ya'... I won't be able to say no."

"I understand." Cosette nodded, taking a deep breath, and mentally preparing herself for confrontation. She pushed open the door with one hand, and stepped inside.

The clock room was a place unlike anything she had seen before. A steel floor seeming to lead from the door onward, suspended by nothing in the middle of a gigantic machine, like an enormous engine she had simply walked into. Beyond the unrailed sides of the platform on which she stood, pistons the size of small cars churned up and down, while enormous gears clicked onward to the end of time. Below and above were only blackness--the darkness of an alien dimension ascending into space.

"Welcome to the end of the world, Cosette." Archeme stood, arms folded, at the end of the platform, before a gigantic apparatus with a clock face, ticking slowly--ever so slowly--yet inevitably onward. Unlike Jake remembered, the device read a mere three minutes to midnight upon its face. Time had passed since he and the doctor had fought.

As for Archeme, she had a familiar green cloth tied around her head, bare shoulders and face covered with bits of grease and soot, glasses sitting just a little bit astray upon her nose. "You came to talk, or so I hear." She smiled smugly. "I've got all the time left in the world, so let's hear it."

"I want to know," Cosette walked forward slowly, carefully, and maintaining her aristocratic air, "why something so foolish as the end of the world appeals to you. I'm curious as to what this machine promises you."

"Ah, is that it then?" Archeme rubbed her gloved hands together, straightening her glasses with one finger. "The end of the world isn't all you imagine, Cosette. Once inefficient, ignorant humans are removed from the picture, a new age of perfection begins--world peace, clean science, space travel--its all in the future, in the new day that begins at midnight. The domesday clock is the device that accelerates human evolution." Archeme walked forward as she spoke. "In its earliest form, it made us arise from apes to gain sentience. Now, evolution continues as technology." She looked up to Cosette, standing only a foot away. "The next stage of human evolution is unique--it doesn't involve humans at all."

"And how does Archeme feel about this?" Cosette put her hands on the girl's shoulders, and forced her face closer, looking deep into Archeme's blue eyes with her fierce golden ones. She blinked once or twice, then her eyes started to water.

"Cosette... I missed you." Archeme's voice cracked. "I don't want to fight against you. I didn't mean... it's not me..." She swallowed a deep gulp of air, and her voice hardened as the clock ticked once more in the background. "But you have to understand, this is for the future." She gripped Cosette's shoulders as the aristocrat was holding hers--only Archeme's grip was unnaturally powerful.

"That thing killed your father, Archeme!" Cosette spoke in a harsh voice, looking deeper into her childhood friend's eyes, trying to find the glimmer of soul that still rested somewhere within. "It's killed Jake, it will kill you and me too! It's going to destroy everything! Tell me why!"

"Because," Archeme's lips spoke, and the entire machine spoke with her, her eyes glazing over in a strange kind of trance. The creak of the pistons, the click of gears and whirr of flywheels, the ticking clock and the young girl all spoke with one voice. "I am the God of the New Age. I will turn the world as I will, and remake it in my holy image. It was I that allowed you to arise from the apes, and I will destroy you again at my leisure. You cannot resist me, child of flesh."

Archeme's eyes grew unnaturally wide, and she looked into Cosette's. Something like electricity flowed between them, and Cosette felt her body moving almost of its own accord, releasing its grip on Archeme's shoulders. "I know all that drives you--every chemical and nerve impulse," the machine continued to speak. "I can rewrite your mind to serve me perfectly, and fill your body with the hormones that will make you yearn to do my bidding."

Cosette could feel something within her, it felt natural, normal. She was tired of fighting, and the machine had a point. This was evolution, and she was just--"No!" She yelled back, her senses resharpening, pressing out the monolith's harsh intrusion. "I am more. I'm not just a beast you can alter at will!" She gripped Archeme's shoulders more tightly, and tried to force her will back upon the girl. "Archeme. You're not part of a system--you have a soul too. That's something this machine didn't give you--find it!" She yelled. "Find it and fight back!"

"I..." Archeme blinked again, releasing her grip of the other girl's shoulders. She stepped back once, then again, unsure of what to do--like fighting herself to wake up from a good dream. "I..."

"Archeme. You're stronger than this thing--nothing is stronger than a soul, if you listen to it. Reach within yourself, find your power." Cosette spoke softly. "Though lost in depths, forgotten sands, though locked away beyond all hope--unbind the fire sealed within, unwind the path to eternity." A swirl of spiritual energy surrounded her, and she felt the power of her own soul grow. She opened both arms to embrace the one she had always thought of as a sister, and stepped forward, ready to impart to Archeme the power to liberate herself from this wicked machine.

A whizzing sound broke the silence of the moment, just in time with another tick from the clock. What appeared to be a kind of ball pendulum sliced through the air, cracking into Cosette's head with a smashing sound.

With a scream of pain, the spirits around the young witch dissipated as she tumbled off the unrailed platform and into the abyss below.

A strong gloved hand clasped around Cosette's wrist, and she looked up to see Archeme's face above hers. Archeme's teeth gritted as she struggled to hold Cosette on the platform without sliding off herself.

"Release her." The machine spoke as a whole, but this time, Archeme did not speak with it.

"No." Archeme whispered through her teeth. "You're... not my master."

"Defy me, and you become useless." The machine spoke. "Those things which are useless have no place in my New Age." There was another tick of the clock. Archeme cried out in pain as her head snapped back, and her body convulsed, as though an electrical current was running through her. Her grip on Cosette's wrist tightened to the point of bruising, then released completely as she fell motionless onto the cold steel platform.

"Eyaaaa!" Cosette cried, once again falling free into the abyss. Another hand clasped around hers. This time, it was a tan skinned one, bearing a large golden bracelet.

Cosette looked up. "Knale?" The demon pulled her up with both hands. She was strong, though it apparently still look some effort to lift Cosette up.

"I can't have you die yet," Knale flashed a motherly smile. "You're doing so well."

"Archeme?!" Cosette dropped down, "Archeme?!" She could feel a spark of life still left in the girl, but little else.

"Cosette?" Archeme's eyes rolled up to look at the witch. "My whole body feels numb. I... I can't move."

"You're still alive though." A tear fell onto Archeme's face, creating a small streak of clean skin as it rolled over her dirty features. "Stay here. I have to take care of something." Cosette hardened her heart and shut out her feelings, remembering her duty. She walked forward, moving to stand in front of the clock. "Whispered secrets of the old age, fill my hands with the fullest power of destruction. Let all I touch be rendered void, the gift of unbecoming granted to me by the darkest--"

A strong hand gripping her shoulder interrupted her spell, dispersing the spirits of void which had gathered around her so eagerly. "Not so quick, my pet." Knale beamed at her kindly. "My plans for the Domesday Clock aren't over yet."

"Unhand me!" Cosette spun out of her grip. "Your next age will end if this thing reaches midnight, will it not?"

"This is true," Knale admitted, "but the Clock is also a necessary part of my plans, and you're in no danger of the world ending so soon. The Domesday Clock ticks with the evolution of man--evolution to a point where they destroy themselves, and only their technology survives to succeed them. In this game, Cosette, none of us are strong enough to simply rewrite the world in a single act--we must plan carefully, to lead man to the ends we desire."

"We?" The girl turned back to the Clock, and then to Knale, "you're a monolith as well?"

"That's not the term we use for ourselves, but it can serve you, I suppose." Knale nodded. "The Clock must reach still closer to midnight before my plans can attain fruition, and for that reason, I can't allow you to destroy it--not yet."

"Haha..." Cosette laughed a sarcastic laugh to herself, "It seems there really are no allies in hell." She took a step toward Knale, the spirits around her charging with her malice, and turning the air red.

"No, none at all." Knale admitted, a tinge of sadness sparking in her eyes. "Let's go home, little empress." The demon lord spun her hand around, and a card covered in arcane writing appeared in it. With a snap of her fingers, the card burned away, consuming itself in a flash of green flame.

"I'll definitely... destroy... you... both." Cosette took another step toward Knale, arms outstretched, before falling to the ground before her in a deep sleep.


A crash shuddered the entire manor, as Hylie snapped the last of her chains with her own hands. "Bind me? Bind me?! I'm going to level this place! Raze it to the ground!"

"Now, now, watch your temper." Narshe cautioned. "It's more important to go and support Cosette. Of course you can level the manor, but it would be more, hmm... healthy--at least for us--if you were to wait until Cosette and I were outside."

"Hmph." The demon threw an open hand towards one wall, which shattered apart as though hit by a bulldozer. She stomped ahead of Narshe up a flight of stairs from the basement, each of her steps leaving deep dents in the metal staircase. Upon reaching the foyer, she surveyed the hall, noting important structural supports.

A group of guards charged forward at Hylie, and she grinned widely. The echoes of crunching metal and deflecting bullets filled the hall, as Narshe flitted past, trying her best to make it to the central metal door where she sensed Cosette's presence without getting horribly shot up. Wincing as a few bullets pierced her thigh, the vampire turned her leg into a red mist and back quickly, and the metal slugs dropped to the ground. The wounds leaked a bit of blood. She would have to deal with them later.

Just then, the central door clicked open, and Knale emerged, carrying an unconscious Cosette upon her shoulder.

"You?" Narshe's eyes widened, as another bullet narrowly missed her breast.

"It's been a long time, Narshe." Knale shrugged Cosette's limp form from her shoulders, and passed her to Narshe, who took the girl without question. "It shouldn't surprise you that I'm here." Narshe narrowed her eyes at the demon angrily, but Knale's calm, peaceful demeanor remained unchanged. "Now now, come with me."

Knale walked calmly into the center of the foyer, sometimes stepping left and right. Narshe grudgingly followed close in her
path, and though bullets whizzed all around them, they seemed to move in just a way as to not be caught in the crossfire between Archeme's automaton soldiers and Hylie's fury.

"Askimilar," Knale called over to Hylie. "Level it."

The Destroyer gave a low murderous laugh, power surrounding her form in a red light as bullets harmlessly pierced her skin, pressed out by regenerating flesh. She swung a fist as though to punch the far end of the room, and a heavy support pillar cracked in half and fell--destroyed by invisible power. The manor was beginning to collapse.

"Archeme!" Old Jake's voice called. He hesitated before the door of strange metal, then dashed inside, intent to save the girl he had watched over so many years.

Hylie smashed pillar after pillar, like Samson sealing his own end, until in one massive crash the entire manor fell in upon them.

Silence followed as the sound of crashing cleared. Knale and Narshe, still carrying Cosette, stood alone on the remnants of the tile floor, a single island of untouched space in the ruins of the manor. There was no shield surrounding them, no arcane power which kept them safe--it had simply been calculated and timed perfectly.

Hylie extracted herself from beneath the rubble, shaking dust out of her hair, and crowing out a loud, long, laugh as she stood upon the remains of the destruction she had wrought.

"Well, it's been quite a productive day," Knale bowed to the vampire beside her. She threw up the hood on her cloak, and vanished, carried away as a shadow on a breeze. "Do take care on the trip home, Narshe." The vampire clenched an angry fist, but gave no reply.

No trace of the Clock Room's door could be found in the ruins.

Great! I'm really glad you liked it. Whatever happened to Elven though? I thought she was reading along, with us, but it seems like she's vanished.

That said, with this page posted, you're currently up to date on DMO, which means new chapters will be coming once a week, and not once a day. Hope the wait isn't too bad!

I put it online to be read freely--the more people take interest, the better!

Reader interest is the main thing to spark my writing. A story, at least to me, dies when no one else has an interest. So, the more people get to talking about it, the more I'll be inspired to work on it. Naturally, suggestions and speculations for the future chapters are the most appreciated kind of feedback. I like to see what everyone thinks is going to happen, then surprise them. biggrin

Due to returning from Japan, reading Harry Potter, getting World of Warcraft... well, I've lacked time to write recently. But things are starting to stabilize again, so continue to expect one episode of DMO each week until further notice. And poke me if I get lazy. biggrin

Hope you enjoy!

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Eight Movement - Of Gods and Gold

"Oh Hylieeeeee!!!" Narshe wailed down the dusty corridors of Villa Vivikadvra in her singsong voice. Her call seemed to take a life of its own, perfectly pitched to carry through the entire house with a little effort as possible. "Hylieeeeeee!!!" It flew down halls, in and out of rooms, and around heavy doors.

When no answer came from her pet demon, the vampire decided to take things upon herself and find the girl. Marching down into the basements, she came to an old cellar. The air was dank and smelled strongly of alcohol and dirty laundry. Loud metal music bellowed from some distant point, demarcating Hylie's chamber in the dark ahead. It was exactly the kind of atmosphere one might expect to find a demon--or a party of college Freshman.

"Hylieeeee!!!" Narshe screeched, her singsong voice turning to a yowl of pain as Hylie's music hit a particularly loud note. The music seemed to emanating from the mouth of some small green warty creature, about as tall as Narshe's knee. Hylie herself was sprawled on her iron bed, with only a few rags. Her real cushion was a layer of broken bottles, layered several inches deep upon the mattress.

The demon herself was apparently passed out on the bed, a large clear bottle in her hand left little imagination as to why. Narshe bared her fangs at the loud green monster perched on Hylie's dresser by its one leg. The thing looked a little frightened, but continued to sing with the voice of two synth guitars, a base, and a full drum ensemble. As it hit another note that made Narshe shriek, she snapped her fingers angrily toward it. In a sky blue flash of cryomantic light, it was frozen solid within a block of ice.

"Hylie! Get up!" Narshe yelled at the drunken, sleeping demon before her.

"Hurgh." Hylie rolled over from her back, scraping through her rags against the broken glass, and falling from her bed to land face first on the stone floor of the cellar. She vomited on the floor there, motionless.

Narshe stepped back in disgust, the back of her hand shielding her nose. And Cosette calls me a decadent creature. She thought to herself. "What are you lying here for, didn't you hear me?" She was upset.

Hylie stood shakily to her feet, using the frozen creature on her table for support. Then, realizing what it was, stepped back in shock. "My...my... you witch, what did you do to my slave?" Apparently Hylie wasn't as low on hell's totem pole as Narshe had assumed.

"Tsk tsk, that was an act of self defense." Narshe waved a hand carelessly. "I'm sure this thing will be fine by the time we return." She did not wait for Hylie to ask what from. "Cosette requires our assistance. She will be summoning us momentarily, so make preparations and come to the foyer with me."

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t need anything from this dump anyway.” Hylie trudged after her through the stone corridors, still upset about her minor servant being "iced".

The two of them emerged into the sunlight of the foyer, and Narshe's heels clicked with careful imperiousness across the tiled floor, and into a circle that had been laid into the marble tiling since the first construction of the villa. Hylie followed her, and sat down in the center of the ring cross legged. Checking her old watch once, the vampire clapped her hands together, and a ball of sky blue light emanated forth from between them, spiraling down around towards her ankles. Where it hit the floor, a crystalline chair of ice grew out of the ground, and the vampire seated herself upon it.

"You're going a bit overboard with that ice." Hylie snarled from her own position directly on the floor. She blew a short burst of flame out of the corner of her mouth, much the same way that humans might puff air when exasperated.

"Cryomancy builds upon a vampire's natural talents." Narshe pushed her glasses up on her nose, and pulled what appeared to be a cheap romance novel from under her cloak.

"Hmph. When's this call coming?" Hylie asked, as a little snake of flame scurried out of her finger toward's Narshe's chair.

"Another few minutes." The vampire did not look up, but turned a page in her novel and shifted in her seat, setting her heel down right upon the flame Hylie had conjured.

"And where are we going this time?"

-----

Vatican City

Cosette should have seen it coming.

There was a white haze in her divinations this morning, and she thought it was just a hole in her technique. But no, it had been real danger--a real obscuring of her vision, and she had blithely ignored it. Narshe would let her have it when she got back, Cosette knew. She clenched her teeth bitterly, but kept composure well enough to avoid hitting anything nearby.

She was in a large room, well furnished, and apparently belonging to a collector of various apocryphal relics. Showcases lined the sides of the room, displaying object like "Paw of Babyon's Lion" and "Splinter of the Cross" and "Black Stone". The room was lit by sunlight streaming in through a large stained glass window, fashioned with the image of a deity descending from the heavens and a man ascending up to meet him.

The doors were not locked, but they were guarded by men dressed in long dark coats and carrying sabers. At one side of the room, in a simple yet tasteful chair, sat her captor, arms folded and legs crossed. His sandy brown hair flashed calmly in the sunlight from above, casting a golden glow over his well-defined, tanned features. If she wasn't so consumed with anger at him, Cosette might have found him a bit handsome.

It was this young man who had accosted her in Romania, and, after a little struggle, captured and dragged her to Rome. An agent of the Church, and a powerful one to be sure, Cosette had reasoned. Certainly Narshe would be coming soon--as soon as Cosette found the spare moment to summon her. As her sole guardian, Narshe's sixth sense would tell her when Cosette was in danger. She would be waiting in the foyer right now, if only she had something to draw a circle and a few moments to cast the spell...

An enormous door at the end of the large room opened, and a younger-looking girl stepped in. She had sharp features like Cosette, and the same golden eyes. Her light blonde hair was put into presumptuous curls which fell loosely over her costume--a red and white and gold affair fashioned after some order of priest or holy knight. A large hat perched upon her head, and what appeared to be some sort of bishop's crook was carried in her hands.

Cosette should not have recognized the figure before her. It had been too long since their last meeting--fourteen years to be precise. However, looking at the girl before her was like seeing a mirror, both in body and spirit.

"Cosette..." the girl spoke in practiced church Latin, and her voice had a kind of ethereal quality to it. "Welcome to Rome."

"Merribelle?" Cosette's eyes widened. She was aghast--not so much at the surprise of seeing her long-absent younger sister--but at the fact that she had not at least imagined this turn of events as a possibility. Of course, Merribelle, sent to study the White Arts at a tender age of three, and whom Cosette had seen not since, would have been the one arranging to have her captured and brought to the headquarters of the Church on this continent. "I find your attempts at hospitality sorely lacking." Cosette spoke in the Romanian of their youth.

"I don't understand." Merribelle replied in Latin. "What is she saying, Martel?"

The man reclining at the side of the room--the one who had apprehended her back home--responded, "she finds offense at being apprehended, your Holiness." His voice was smooth and calm, yet respectful.

Cosette decided to try her best at Latin. "After fourteen years, you suddenly apprehend me and drag me across the continent? I'm a bit put off, sister."

Merribelle stepped forward until she stood eye to eye with Cosette. Their firm gold eyes looked into one anothers' for several moments. Then, with a loud cracking sound, Merribelle's palm met Cosette's face with such force that the girl was stunned for a few moments.

"You're no sister of mine." Merribelle's words stung as hotly as Cosette's face. She turned her back on the girl clad in black, and walked back a few steps. "I renounced the name Garidion when Rozalina discarded me fourteen years ago. I am a child of the True God--not some mortal wretch."

"How dare you speak of mother like that!?" Cosette was outraged, and the air around her distorted visibly with black magical energy. She was tired of trying to keep up appearances and courtesies. Dragged halfway across Europe, insulted, injured--she was tired of words. Her will was overflowing her body, coalescing into a dark force. Her eyes narrowed to become almost serpentlike. "Let me teach you manners the Church hasn't, Merribelle." She leaned her head back, and opened both palms before her. Streams of black and red energy leapt up from her hands, and dove through the air at Merribelle.

The girl stood calmly, as two whips of negative and destructive energy crossed over her in a silent but devastating crash. The carpet below her feet was rent apart into shreds, and the light in the room dimmed visibly. Merribelle, however, stood perfectly unharmed.

"By the holy blood of God in my veins, I am rendered beyond immortal, Cosette. Don't presume to strike me." Merribelle turned back to her sister. "I didn't call you for any kind of family reunion, dog. You're here to be executed for crimes against God and consortations with the Devil. You, Cosette Garidion, are known as one of Europe's most powerful and prominent witches. Your demise will clear the way for more of your kind to follow you to hell."

"I see--so this has nothing to do with who I am, just what I am." Cosette nodded, "I think I understand now. But Merribelle, are you ready to accept the consequences of starting a war with me, and with all the arcane societies of this continent? I don't think you realize what you're getting into."

"Lock her with the other heretics, Martel." Merribelle turned and left without another look at her sister.

Cosette smiled darkly at her younger sister's back. I'll need to teach her some respect indeed...

-----

The prison below was dark and cold. Cosette found herself shackled to a wall, locked in a cell, her gentle skin chafing uncomfortably against the iron shackles that bound her wrists and ankles. Martel, the man who had led her down to the cell had left her with a bow and an apology, but she was still outraged at this sort of treatment--it was ill-befitting of anyone, but especially for a woman of her rank. The moans of other prisoners filled the air, and something like the sounds of torture rang further off down the lit end of the prison corridor.

Well, they're as foolish as they are bad mannered. That's an advantage at the least. Cosette shut her eyes for a moment, and mouthed a few whispered words, as her shackles clicked open easily. The power to pass any lock was one that all Garidion heirs possessed--though she could count on Merribelle not sharing that power. She tips her hand so easily... Cosette laughed. She knew what to expect of her little sister--what protection the girl was relying on to save her. And what could Merribelle expect of her? A little offensive black magic offered no clues as to the real depth of her powers. Cosette almost felt like she was cheating, taking advantage of her sister's inexperience.

Unwatched, Cosette had little trouble etching a simple summoning circle into the dust on the ground before her. Applying a print of her hand and a few drops of blood, the circle flashed to life in a subtle arcane glow. In a few more moments, Narshe and Hylie shared her cell.

"About time." Hylie snarled, standing up and stretching out her legs.

"Oh, what a pleasant haunt." Narshe looked around, perking her ears to the sounds of screams echoing out of the far hall. "Do tell us how you fell into this trap, mistress." Something between annoyance and amusement played over Narshe's features.

"It's not important for now." Cosette sighed, keeping her voice as low as possible, so as not to attract the attention of the other prisoners. "We're in the basement of a cathedral in the Vatican. Most likely the headquarters of the Church."

"Which Church?" Hylie's eyes widened a bit.

"The Church." Narshe said, with extra emphasis on 'The'. "An ancient religious order, dedicated to world unity through ecumenical unitarianism. They keep their hands in just about every major world religion, and many governments too."

"And Merribelle," Cosette continued, "she's the one who's had me arrested and brought here. Apparently she ranks high in the Church after fourteen years."

"Merribelle..." Narshe remembered the infant she had watched over so many years ago. "The younger Garidion never takes to being sent away. It's a family tradition I've seen turn sour too many times."

"So, master..." Hylie punched one fist into the palm of her other. "Are we going to level this place as well? Let's show them what you think of their hospitality, hm?"

"I appreciate that you're starting to understand my way of thinking, Hylie." Cosette said, "but we won't gain anything but enemies by destroying a headquarters of the Church. They're a worldwide organization, and it would just bring them down heavier on our heads."

"Precisely." Narshe mused, nodding as a schoolteacher might to congratulate a pupil with the correct answer. "You need a display of force that tells Merribelle that she can't defeat you with her resources alone, while not making enough of a threat to make you a priority for the whole Church... basically you have to prove that you aren't worth fighting."

"That's the thing..." Cosette was about to lean against the cell wall, then thought better of it. "I was never worth fighting. This whole thing seems rather contrived and sudden. It's almost as if..." As though hit by a sudden inspiration, Cosette knelt down and began drawing a set of slashes in the ground, closing her eyes and muttering. Standing again, she looked at the marks before her carefully.

"Ridiculous." She murmured. A simple divination of Gold confirmed her worst fears.

"What is it?" Narshe looked over the diagram. Unfortunately, she was no specialist in divination.

"Lydia is here too--or Merribelle has packed Switzerland into a box and set it on display upstairs." Cosette hung her head. "That explains so much." She looked up again, taking a deep breath. "We just need to get out of here, fast." She made a move for the door of the prison.

"Hold on." Narshe put a hand out. "Why is cousin Lydia so set against you? We don't encroach on any of her affairs, but she seems determined to see you dead. Once in South America, and now here--what did you do?"

"I don't know." Cosette growled, brushing her servant's hand out of the way. The lock to the cell clicked open at her touch.

"You need to confront her and find out." Narshe crossed her arms.

"No, I need to get back to the safety of my villa, and you need to do as I say and assist me." She gave a sharp look to Narshe and Hylie, reinforcing that this was not a topic for debate.

"You'll run away? Pathetic." Hylie huffed. "I'll go and teach her a thing or two in your stead."

"Do you know who you're talking about here?" Cosette turned around, "On a good day I'm hard pressed to match Lydia in terms of power--let alone best her. In terms of force, she's near unstoppable."

"Call Master Knale." The demon said casually.

"Don't--" Narshe cut her off.

"Something against my master, vampire?" Hylie gave her a threatening sideways look.

"Several hundred years of somethings." Narshe shook her head. "I know I can't tell you what to do, mistress," the vampire began, "but you need to know why this is happening, if you're going to defend yourself against your cousin. Lydia won't desire to upset the Church any more than we will, so this may be the safest chance you get."

Cosette's hand unconsciously gripped Solomon's Key clasped around her neck. Knale was watching her... the demon would save her in a worst case, like before, right? Believing a single word from the Demon Overlord's lips was a mistake, Cosette admitted to herself, but she had seemed to hold reliable so far...

"Fine." Cosette steeled her nerves. "I'll confront Lydia..."

-----

Cosette trudged up the corridor from the cellars, led by Narshe and followed by Hylie. It was a simple thing for the vampire to set to sleep the watching guards they crossed, using a few tricks of textbook magic. From an ornate door, Cosette and her comrades peered into the entryway of a vast cathedral.

Lydia and Merribelle stood talking together, alone in the chapel.

"And how does it feel, killing your own sister?" Lydia crossed her arms, admiring the decor of the place. She was dressed in royal-looking red silks, and adorned with more jewelry than half the population of the city combined. Her black hair hung long in a braid behind her, tied back around what looked like a heavy golden coin of some kind, though it was quite larger than anything one would put in their pocket.

"Aren't you through here?" Merribelle asked. "If you don't believe I can handle my duties, please oblige yourself to take care of her."

"Oh, I don't think I'll pass up an opportunity for you to prove yourself." Lydia smiled cruelly. Her face was veiled, but the expression flashed so unmistakably in her eyes that no doubt could be had. "Fail me, and we'll see how Rome feels about terrorism..." an idea seemed to dawn on her, "...or even better, we can have another Punic War. It sounds to me like a great capitalist venture."

"How dare you... threaten me..." Merribelle clenched her fists, and her eyes seemed to change, becoming more menacing, as Cosette's did when she became outraged.

"I'll do what I like." Lydia laughed a high laugh. "You renounced your family name, so the Legacy Magic your sister possesses is lost on you. I'm really the only ally you have now, so be nice." She reached out a tanned hand and stroked the side of Merribelle's face as though she were a small child who had said something unfortunate.

"Lydia," Cosette entered the room, followed by Narshe and Hylie, "I'm curious as to your qualm with me. Do be civil. Come out with it." She made a beckoning motion.

Lydia and Merribelle turned around in surprise. "You?"

"Apologies, sister," The girl smiled, "but your accommodations didn't really measure up to my standards." Cosette spoke in Tongues--the universal language--not only so both of them could understand, but for its intimidating effect. "So, cousin Al-Sabah, tell me the truth. Why are you against me?"

Lydia regained her composure and stepped forward to face Cosette. The two of them stood only twenty feet or so apart, staring one another up and down. The air around Cosette darkened, and the sun seemed to dim, shining through high stained glass windows. Around Lydia, the air shimmered with a kind of golden glow.

"I don't have any trouble with you personally, Cosette." Lydia explained, "but you stand between me and something I want. That in itself is unforgivable." She thought for a moment. "But now it occurs to me, since I know you'll want to avoid conflict, there's a much more simple resolution to our problem than killing you." She paused for effect. "Renounce your family name."

"What?" Cosette could barely believe what she was hearing. Behind her, Narshe gave a sigh as though her fears were confirmed.

"Once you abdicate your claim to the family line, your legacies and powers pass to me, as next successor." Lydia's left hand emerged from beneath her silks, brandishing something like a scepter. "If you consider it, you have little else in the way of options."

Cosette Garidion looked down at her feet, thinking. Narshe, Hylie, Merribelle, and Lydia all stared at her expectantly.

Then, she laughed. A long, loud high-pitched laugh. Lydia gave her a venomous look.

"Lydia, I thought you were just annoying before. But now I realize... I really, really do hate you." She spoke calmly, but the darkness around her seemed to gather like a storm, until she almost became one with it. The dark around her cracked with black energy, churning like a liquid substance. "I'll consider your request a personal challenge to my honor."

"Ah, so you'll take death over dishonor." Lydia smiled, "how predictable. Well, if you deceive yourself into thinking you have a chance against Babylon Foundation's Golden Girl, help yourself to try." The air around her shimmered brightly, like a living golden sun. She and Cosette faced one another, each waiting for the other to strike first.

Then, in a fatal moment, Cosette leapt forward--a colossal wave of black energy crashing against the sun of gold

"Hmph." Lydia shrugged as the wave washed over her. Her body disintegrated in a crash of clinking coins, scattering apart to the corners of the room as black lightning flashed through the spot where she had stood. A thousand motes of gold that had once been Lydia's flesh flowed together and reassimilated behind Cosette into the form of her cousin.

Lydia touched her scepter to the carpet, and a wave of brilliant energy spread across the floor, transmuting everything it touched into solid gold. Cosette jumped up, standing sideways upon the wall of the cathedral to avoid the chasing wave. She began making rapid motions with her hands as she walked carefully along the wall of the cathedral, and from each dark corner bolts of black energy swept out to strike at Lydia.

With a single practiced motion, Lydia slipped a silver ring from one of her fingers to the floor. As the ring left her finger, it transformed itself into an open floodlight, showering the entire room in brilliance brighter than day, quenching the lances of shadow energy which assailed her just in time. Lydia's physical body dissolved again, and cascaded towards Cosette in the form of a thousand golden coins, hurled at the speed of bullets. With no shadow to shield herself, Cosette could only watch the incoming, inescapable assault helplessly.

"Stop!" Merribelle screamed in a voice that split the air. Time itself seemed to stop for a moment, as Lydia's form receded back into its original state with a clinking of metal, and Cosette dropped from the wall, falling to the ground where Narshe caught her just in time. "Not here." She looked at Lydia, and then Cosette, angrily.

Lydia looked down at her hands in a mix of anger, annoyance, and slight confusion. Why had her powers stopped working? She was so close...

"You... you'll pay for interfering with this, Merribelle!" Lydia stepped forward to look down at the girl, who stared back up at her defiantly.

"This holy house will not be defiled by bloodshed." Merribelle stared into Lydia's brown eyes calmly. "What will you do?"

"You may be inviolable..." Lydia breathed heavily, containing a seething rage, "but there are things more painful than physical wounds. I'll show you in time..." She looked back to Cosette, "You're lucky that little sister's sympathies saved you today, cousin Cosette. Expect to see me again soon."

Merribelle let out a sigh, and a heavy weight seemed to lift off of the entire cathedral. Feeling her powers return, Lydia threw out her arms, spreading out her red silks behind her. Then, wrapping them about herself, until her whole body was covered, her physical body vanished, and she flew out the door of the cathedral in a blaze of living silk.

"Sister..." Cosette took a step toward Merribelle, who had her back turned.

"Get out." The girl spoke firmly, not turning around. "Your presence here is an affront to God--and to me."

"But--"

"I'm no longer your sister. Now go! Before I reconsider..." Merribelle breathed deeply, walking slowly through the back doors of the cathedral.

I don't know if they should be considered colored magics... I simply have the characters do whatever it seems like they would be able to--there are no strictly defined powers or spell lists that anyone is using. Rather than black, white, green magic, etc. Cosette can do anything that seems "in-character" for an arcane magic user, while Lydia possesses a vastly more powerful version of the Midas touch.

As for Lydia and Cosette both, we've still only seen the tip of the iceberg on what they're capable of. I believe cousin Lydia will be recurring as a major villain in the following chapters, so we'll see more of her soon enough.

There's also an artwork of Cosette, and a rather creepy character that will be appearing in the next story, Malgrave: Cosette and Malgrave
Since it's posted on the DMO website, I figure that its only fair to tease readers here as well.

DMO Episode 9 is finished! Yay!

But I won't post it yet--I'm waiting until Monday, which I think will become the standard release day for new episodes. Instead, I'll just give a little teaser of what's to come in the next chapter, Carmine's Dark Throne...