Ideworld Chronicles: The Art Mage

Act 3, Chapter 12: What’s at stake

Day in the story: 1st January (Thursday), around 4.30 a.m.As my power surged into Liora, making him believe that he was made of wood, the supposed vampire that attacked us, he dropped the sword, started thrashing and convulsing, trying his best to grab Liora’s hardened body and pull the claws away from his own skin.

However, it didn’t look like it would kill him. His skin hissed on contact, but other than that he seemed like he would manage to pull Lio off of him. This didn’t bode well for my situation, as I was still paralyzed and unable to move a single muscle, besides just standing, breathing, and looking.

As far as I could see, no one was around here either. People were already sleeping after partying, or far enough from us not to notice what was going on. It was all on me and my lóng to stop this monster, but with tied hands I was unable to improvise or fight back.

The first thing I did was reach for help—through the cards I had given to Peter, Nicholas, Sophie, and Zoe. Each of them had been updated and handed to them yesterday. A mouth was now painted onto every card, and each carried my Authority. They were all my mouths.

I tried to speak through them, to ask for help, but even those muscles—ones not directly connected to me—refused to obey. Whatever had seized me reached farther than my own body.

The only thing I managed to note, was this: if he ever asked me to say something, they would say it too.

I reached out through my aura to feel what was around me. It felt like searching through darkness to find a light of art within it. The street was old cobblestone. The wall that divided us from the river, while clean and nice to look at, was a craftsmanship wonder, but hardly artistic. Streetlamps were mass-produced. The bridge and the buildings could be called works of art, if I pretended to not care enough—but I couldn’t think of anything useful they’d be able to do for me.

I was ready to give up and accept that it was all up to Lio, who did his best to remain lodged in the man’s chest. But our opponent was pulling him out every second, and would throw him away or snap him like a twig at any moment. I’d need to remove the Authority I granted him, not to risk him dying.

That’s when my artistic brain—my good old papier-mâché pulp made of old sketches and paintings—provided me with the answer I was searching for.

I reached throughout my aura once again, searching for the item dropped on the ground by the man. I felt the craftsmanship—the beautiful floral patterns representing a rose climbing from the handle to the blade. Yes—I felt the artistic spirit within the sword. It was special to this man, something made by a true artist.

I sent my Authority through the link, telling it that it was art. And then, when that invisible thread of light established itself between us, I pushed something else along it—an identity borrowed from Chinese legends of wuxia and xianxia lore, one of a weapon that embodied the ultimate skill of cultivating energy.

Become a flying sword. I asked it, and it shone briefly with rainbow light, accepting its new identity.

Fight for me. I asked again through the power given by my animation soulmark, giving it a new purpose.

It clattered briefly, hitting the ground with a clunk before it launched into the air, its pointy end as its guide. I felt it ask me, in that soul’s realm that encompassed everything, looking for a target.

And before I could even think back, it already knew it well.

Air hissed as it moved with high velocity, flying toward the naked man, just as I stripped Lio of the wooden Authority, letting him turn intangible and dart away.

The man roared in triumph, his body hissing with steam as he turned toward us—just to get slashed across the chest by his own weapon. The cut pushed him back as he staggered, while the blade circled in the air with the finesse of the greatest swordsman performing a pirouette, and struck again at head level.

The man blocked with his arms and hissed in pain when they were cut to the bone.

The sword circled him, trying to thrust itself through his back, but he responded by turning into dark smoke again, letting it pass through. He moved just a few feet, observing the terrain with two red eyes this time, just to appear yet again, unharmed, but heaving slightly.

Liora darted at him then, like a weasel, jumping on top of his left arm, clutching it with all of his paws and biting into his shoulder.

“Rappelez-les à vous, sorcière ! Ordonnez à ce dragon de se retirer et de laisser mon épée en paix !” the man shouted, trying to dislodge Liora, while narrowly dodging the sword again as it went for a diving attack from the air. And even though I didn’t understand the command, my body responded, forcing me to speak.

“Liora, back to me! You are on your own, sword!”

Of course, my good old borrowed brains were gentlemen enough to stop my soul from sending any Authority through the words, and so the dance continued.

“It seems I was mistaken. You tell them to stop,” the man said as he caught an attack from the sword in his bare hand. I asked Lio mentally to go for his penis instead of an arm, hoping that this would be the thing that would stop him.

“Stop! Please stop!” Peaches shouted to my left, and through the nail on the thumb of the hand that held her, I saw a single tear run down her cheek. She was damn scared.

Liora followed my instruction, turning intangible into pure shadowlight as he passed through the man’s body, just to make himself physical around his pelvis. With one clean snap of his mouth, he tore away the man’s rather above-average part.

“Non ! Que le diable m’emporte !” he shouted as he stumbled back, exposing a fresh wound that looked like it was already very old and scarred. Was that why he didn’t bleed?

Liora hissed as the body part remained in his mouth, before he flew away and spat it onto the ground a few yards away from the monster.

“Why!? Why did you do that, hags!?” he shouted at us again.

“I didn’t do anything,” Peaches answered, while my mouth said something entirely different:

“You enthralled us, so we fight back.”

He didn’t like that answer one bit. His brows furrowed as he looked at me, wrestling with the sword whose blade he held in his own hand.

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“You think you are so smart? Nous verrons bien qui est le maître en ces lieux. Go ahead, jump into the old Seine—vous vous noyerez si vous refusez de jouer.”

He said, and both Peaches and I began walking toward the river at a quick pace.

We had seconds before we would ultimately jump over the wall and succumb to the depths. I wasn’t going to let that happen. I had to stop myself. My immediate idea was to use the scarf to entangle my legs, but it was already around my neck without any Authority, so if I just hardened it, I would probably suffocate above the water.

I focused on my tattoo, where the image of the spellbook had been inked into my skin, and called that beautiful thing to appear around my waist, hidden beneath my jacket. Then I focused quickly on the ice sheet I had painted long ago and summoned it right at the edge of my feet, so when I took the next step, I fell, sliding on the slick surface of the ice.

My fall brought Peaches down as well, whom I pulled by the hand. I couldn’t see if she was okay, though, as all of my eyes were pointed in different directions.

“Get up!” the guy shouted irritably, as the sword he held tried to get loose with all the might he had, while Liora resumed his attacks as well.

I summoned another sheet right above both of us and made it as heavy as lead, to disallow any attempt at getting up. The weight was huge but not crushing. Both Peaches and I—as I could see now—tried to get it off us, but it proved difficult. I was, however, unable to see the man from my own point of view and for now relied only on what Liora was seeing.

He was narrowly avoiding a swipe from the man, who tried to hit him with his fist. Lio dove below the attack and latched himself onto the man’s ribs, tearing parts of that strange flesh away.

I reached through the veil for Noxy, summoning him right next to me on the ground. He was a work of art of the strangest kind, but that thing sprouting from his upper ridge that looked like a crystalline spider animated itself as soon as he reached for art or darkness for its shots.

I focused on that as I asked him to move like a part-spider, part-pistol, and shoot that man in the heart. Rainbow light shone briefly over him, and the spidery limbs unfurled as he rolled onto them, carrying the barrel onto his back.

Good boy, I thought, as he skittered away from beneath the sheet toward the man, right as Liora was circling toward the side where he held the sword. He had managed to grab it by the handle and kept it firmly, despite the sword’s protests.

Noxy looked like a little crab as he skittered over the cobblestones of the street, swaying from side to side. When he reached about the halfway point between us and our assailant, he stopped, aiming his barrel at the man’s chest, supporting himself with his frontal limbs while some of the back ones reached for the trigger and, without hesitation, pulled it.

The resulting blast was so loud and powerful that it tore the metallic sheet off me and Peaches. I looked through Lio’s painted eyes first at the crater where Noxy lay unmoving. All of the cobblestones in that place had been thrown far into the distance.

Then his gaze focused on the man, whose chest now held a gaping hole the size of a watermelon, flesh dripping down until he finally dropped to his knees. Two thin streams of smoke rose into the air from his eyes, a brief red light shining from them, before he collapsed face down onto the street.

I took a deep breath as my body jerked free from the spell that had held us.

Peaches shouted to my left in horror as she grabbed her face with both hands, frantically checking whether the fact that she could move again wasn’t just a dream. I took stock of everything I’d summoned here, including Lio and the man’s sword, and sent them back into my Domain before turning to Pam.

“Are you okay?” I asked her as I dropped to my knees in front of her.

“No!” she shouted. “Who was that? What was that? What just happened?” She cried as she tried to gather her thoughts. Then she looked at me, her face equally angry and confused. “Why aren’t you panicking like I am?”

“I’ve seen things like that before,” I said, extending my hand. I also noticed there were quite a few people looking out of their windows at what had happened here, and a man running toward us in the distance. “I’m sorry, but we have to leave for now, Peaches. It’s not a good idea to stay here.”

“I…” She started, then trailed off as her gaze drifted to the naked body of the man not far from us, and then shifted toward his penis in the dragon’s vomit a short distance away.

I reached into my cards, which followed my instructions and sent my friends on a wild chase in search of us. When it all happened, I heard them talking about us as they spread out to look for us. If I read the link correctly, the man running toward us in the distance was Peter. I made the mouths on his and the other cards speak.

“Go back to what you were doing, or to Sophie’s aunt. I’m taking Peaches with me there. We are safe now. Thank you for the help.”

The man stopped, looked in my direction, waved once, and turned back.

Thank you, Pete. I could always count on you.

“Where do we need to go?” she asked. “I don’t feel like walking.”

“It’s okay. No more walking for now,” I said, placing my hand on hers gently and wrapping it with my other one. “The world will walk for you this once.”

“What?” she asked, as the view around us changed. Gone were the smells of the river and the street, the foul stench of my lóng’s vomit. Whispers from the windows were replaced by the quiet of a large ballroom in Sophie’s family home in Paris. It was dark here, curtains drawn and lights off—dark everywhere except where we landed. Threads of light fell slowly to the ground like spider silk cast on the wind, shining with ever-changing rainbow colors and casting their glow onto me and Pam. I let them peel away from me as my emotions cooled.

“How?” she asked. “How did you do that?”

“There’s a painting in this room. Right above us. Sophie’s aunt hung it there. It was a gift from Soph’s, sent here for one reason only. To keep me tied to this place. We came here because of what I can do. I brought us all here earlier today as well.” I said it plainly, already knowing she wouldn’t remember any of it later. I was getting tired of coming up with the lies every time my mouth opened to say something.

“But we flew here… right?” She rifled through her memories. “No, wait. Sophie did something with jewelry at Grand Central?” Her brow creased. She sounded hopeful, like she might catch the thought before it slipped away.

“It was safer that way. Letting you believe something you could forget later.”

“So you brought us here? With your power?”

“Yes.” I reached for my phone and switched on the flashlight. The beam cut through the darkness and settled between us on the floor, the only light we had now. I slid back until the wall met my shoulders and let myself breathe. “I can do things with artistic creations. I’m… a mage. A wizard or a witch, if that sits better with you.”

She snorted. “That’s bullshit. Right? I’m drugged.”

“Do you feel drugged?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? A little? It’s like my head is fighting itself. That’s never happened before. What’s happening to me?”

“It’s a long story, and honestly, I’m tired of telling it. I’m sorry. I just need to rest for a minute. Fighting without control of your own body takes more out of you than you’d think.”

“Fighting?” Her eyes widened. “You made that sword fly. And you were telling that little dragon what to do.” Her voice jumped an octave. “You bit his dick off?”

I sighed. “Please. My reputation is at stake here. I did not do any biting.”

“But your dragon did!” She nearly shouted. “Was that even a dragon? Or am I dreaming all of this?”

Honestly, I was exhausted. From fighting Jason. From accepting him, only to be met with disgust and petty cruelty. From dancing and laughing, just to remember that monsters hide in literal shadows, waiting for moments like these. And more than anything, I was tired of always being in control. Of hiding the truth. For what reason anymore? She’d forget it all anyway.

So I stopped this once.

I reached into my domain and pulled him forward.

Lio appeared in front of us, horns glowing with soft white shadowlight. He perched on nothing at all, sitting comfortably in the air, licking his paw like an oversized scaly cat. Calm and unbothered now.

“Thanks again, Lio. I owe you.” I said it quietly.

Peaches startled hard, pressing her back to the wall.

“That… that thing. That’s the same… the same dragon?”

“Hey. Don’t be scared. He’s usually a good boy. Aren’t you?” I reached up and scratched behind his horns.

He purred loudly and drifted closer. Curled himself right into my lap.

“That’s the most awesome pet I’ve ever seen,” she whispered.

Lio lifted his head, offended. I gently pushed it back down and kept scratching.

“He’s not a pet,” I said. “He’s a familiar. Bound to my soul.”

I looked at her through the dim light, through the quiet that finally settled.

“He saved us.”