Date: Tue, 30 Nov 2010 20:50:39 +0000 From: Guy Cornelius Subject: The Elemental chapter 13 - gay sci-fi All the usual disclaimers apply to this story. If you are underage in your area, please don't get caught. If you find gay material offensive then please think hard about why you are actually here. This story is the sole property of the author and may not be duplicated or re-distributed without his express permission. "But I...that wasn't...oh my!" Tommy's knees suddenly gave out and he found himself sprawled across the sofa, fighting to remain conscious. "What's hap..." "Don't try to talk," cautioned Romeo. "You've expended a lot of energy and I think your body is probably trying to make up for it by shutting down. Have a little nap and you'll feel right as rain when you wake up." Tommy allowed his eyes to close with Romeo's beaming smile and Marcus' worried frown the last things he saw before drifting off into nothingness. The three friends surveyed the room and then, as if responding to spoken instructions began to clear things up a bit. While Marcus worked he kept throwing furtive glances in Tommy's direction, just to be sure that the rise and fall of his chest hadn't stopped. "What happens now?" asked Titania, fighting with a particularly stubborn draw that didn't want to go back into the expensive looking armoire from whence it came. "We've got a trashed hotel suite and two unconscious druids to deal with." "Two?" Marcus turned and looked at Titania as though she had grown an extra breast, but was quickly put in his place when she pointed down the corridor to where Draeden was still suspended by the tree branches. He'd forgotten all about the renegade Druid Master who had less than an hour ago revealed that he had spent his life removing any potential competition to his leadership using whatever means necessary. Marcus had a mind to kill him right there, but he knew that was the wrong thing to do. If Tommy was going to be reintroduced to his people, they would need Draeden alive...at least for now. He looked back at the sleeping form of his lover and began to worry all over again. In all their time together, Tommy hadn't revealed any aptitude for physical magic, and yet on two occasions now he had witnessed its application first hand. It was a generally accepted fact that there are three main types of magic: Natural, Elemental and Physical. Natural magic is the realm of the Druids, who use their abilities to manipulate plants to achieve their goals. Although often secretive, each of the major magical countries in the world has at least one Druidic House, a "house" being the Druidic equivalent of a Guild. Elemental magic is the ability to manipulate and control the four traditional base elements; Earth, Air, Fire and Water. Marcus, who was beginning to master one of the four, was quite a rarity. Elemental mages are very few and far between, rarely seen more than once a century or so, although their capability is usually quite poor. An elemental mage with powers as strong as Marcus' were pretty much unheard of. Finally comes the most common form of magic; Physical Magic. The title of physical magic is a little misleading, given that it encompasses both mental and physical forms. The best known forms of Physical magic are telekinesis, telepathy, levitation, protective shielding and offensive energy spells. These are the abilities taught in the Guild institutions globally, aimed at turning a mage into an "all rounder", able to attack, defend and manipulate where required. Marcus, an anomaly in all forms of magic, knew very little about the British Druidic House, but then nobody knew very much about them. Internationally the Houses tended to be very secretive but none more so than the British. Often the Guild and the House in any country would give each other a wide berth, seldom mixing unless forced but still maintaining regular contact on a leadership level. There were two exceptions to this rule, the French and the British. The French, after an unfortunate incident where some false accusations by the Guild lead to the public execution of a well loved Druid by the name of Marie Antoinette, decided that the best way to avoid any such future issue would be to come together as one institution. It was this decision that lead to the creation of L'Institut de France which is publicly known as the institution that oversees the five French Academies as well as other attractions in France. However it is actually the worlds most successful example of a Druid House and Mages Guild working together. The British institutions, however, went in completely the opposite direction. In the early 9th century AD the Druid House and the Mages Guild of Britain were run by two brothers. What caused their feud was never properly documented, but their hatred for each other started a war which gave birth to a feud which lasted some twelve centuries. It wasn't until the Guilds previous Guild Master patched things up with the Druids that any form of contact was initiated. The relationship between the two factions remains uncertain, but they are moving towards the mutual recognition practised by the rest of the world. This period of alienation did however result in many of the low-level mages and druids having no idea that the other faction existed. Those in power were obviously aware but both sides, unbeknownst to the other, took the decision to keep the existence of the other from the proletariat until a more trustworthy relationship had been built. Marcus' foot jigged while he thought, his foot carving a small clearing in the debris on the floor. He listened to the noises of the room around him; Tatiana clearing up bits of furniture behind him, Romeo muttering to himself in the other room whilst he kept an eye on Draeden and, more importantly, Tommy's shallow breathing as he lay on the sofa opposite him. "Tatiana," he called, rising to his feet and turning to face her, "would you come keep and eye on Tommy for a while please? Romeo...ROMEO..." Marcus waited as Romeo bustled up the corridor from the other side of the suite and looked at him expectantly. "Romeo, come with me...we have errands to run." Marcus leant down and kissed Tommy lightly on the forehead and then started towards the door. "Who died and put you in charge," muttered Tatiana. Marcus stopped walking and stood perfectly still for a few seconds, his fists clenched. He slowly turned to face Tatiana, his jaw set and his shoulders back. A wave of fire flashed across his eyes causing Tatiana to blanche visibly. "Tatiana, I'm asking you a favour as my friend. Please just watch Tommy for a few hours while I try to get some things sorted out. I've just been told that I'm some kind of god and my boyfriend may well be too. He seems to have some kind of telekinetic power that he can't control, I'm being hunted by my own Guild and we have the head of the Druidic House suspended from a willow-tree in the other room. Now is not the time to be pissing me off." Marcus' voice was calm, even and without emotion but the fire in his eyes still burned. Tatiana fought the fought the blush that attempted to colour her cheeks, quickly moving over to the sofa where Tommy lay prone and using the back of her hand to check the temperature of his forehead, silently chastising herself for her lapse in judgement. Releasing the breath he had been holding as Marcus nodded and turned back toward the door, Romeo scampered out of the room, following Marcus' quick stride as closely as he could. "Get it together," hissed Titania to herself once the door was closed behind the two men. "You're too close now to mess it all up. Stick to the plan!" The ride in the elevator down to the lobby was all but silent, broken only by the melodic chiming of the lift as it reached its destination. Romeo followed Marcus out onto the streets of London, walking in silence. Marcus, with his head down and his brow furrowed, wasn't really concentrating on where he was going, simply choosing to just walk. Romeo, realising that trying to garner a reason for his presence on this undeniably enjoyable evening stroll would be pointless decided to simply go with the flow and observe the world around him. He watched as a pair of young women, dressed in office suits, walked towards them talking a mile a minute with their arms waving around to emphasise their points as they spoke. He felt a lump in his throat when he witnessed a spontaneous kiss shared by a elderly couple sitting at a street side cafe. The kiss itself was nothing special; a quick peck on the lips, but it was filled with such tenderness and passion that Romeo had to look away. There was something about the way the man's thumb brushed along his wife's cheek, eliciting a self-conscious blush of surprise and a knowing smile that made Romeo wish that he could find someone to share his life with and still be able to make blush when he reached that age. He let out a dejected sigh when he caught a glimpse of himself in a shop window, and realised that he wasn't so far off that age already; the chances of finding such devoted love were slim to none at the best of times. He thought he had found it once, many moons ago and for a long time believed his life was complete but it wasn't to be. At the first mention of his other life, his beautiful fiance Julia had bolted out the door and never come back. Romeo had long since realised that doing the work he did and having a companion to share his life with was just not possible and as such, had long since given up looking. Pushing his self-pitying thoughts aside, he realised that he must have slowed down and now found himself about ten metres behind Marcus. He rushed to catch up and looked over at the boy he considered his ward, seeing a look in his eyes that he wasn't sure he recognised. Marcus was usually quite an easy boy to read as far as body language goes, but then not everybody bursts into flame when they're pissed off. This look, though, was new. "Romeo," said Marcus, snapping the old man back to reality, "who are you?" Romeo was stunned, so much so that he stumbled and almost fell, saved only by Marcus' quick reflexes. He slowly picked up his cane, brushed the creases out of his suit and generally made sure that his appearance was as he wanted it...or that's what he made it look like. His mind was racing a mile a minute, desperately trying to work out what Marcus knew. The boy couldn't possibly... It was then, standing in a busy London street, staring at the most powerful being he had ever encountered, that Romeo really looked at Marcus and saw him for what he was...a boy. A young lad in his early twenties who, less than a week ago, was thrown into a world of power, danger and uncertainty. Not once had he complained or broken down in tears; he just got on with what had to be done whether that involved protecting his friends from a bunch of thugs or protecting the world from a megalomaniac. "Queers!" came a shout from across the road, voiced by a young kid of about seventeen and dressed to the hilt in sportswear. This shout was quickly followed by a surprised yelp as the end of his cigarette, on which he was in the process of taking a drag, burst into flames and relieved him of the majority of his eyebrows. Romeo, shaken out of his reverie but this event, turned and carried on walking, amazed at Marcus' skill in controlling fire. "I see you've got the fire control down pat," he murmured quietly while they walked, making sure that nobody could overhear them. "I've got the basics down I guess," replied Marcus modestly, scanning the busy streets around them for any sign of aggression or attention. "The basics!" exclaimed Romeo, stopping for a moment to stare at Marcus once again, his eyes rounded in surprise. "My boy, you just ignited the end of a cigarette some thirty feet away from you at exactly the right moment without even looking at it...I'd say that was a better grasp than just the basics!" "You still haven't answered my question." Marcus didn't look at Romeo as he said this, choosing instead to keep his eyes looking dead ahead, allowing London life to wash past him. He jumped out of the way of a business woman chatting away on her mobile who scowled at him as he did so. He was tempted to set the phone on fire but decided against it. The two men carried on walking for a little while longer, one in thought and the other happy to wait for whatever might be coming. The air held a chill breeze to it, causing Romeo to hug his jacket closer to his body in an attempt to remain as warm as possible. Marcus, of course, didn't have this problem as his body temperature was now naturally much higher than before so he was perfectly happy to enjoy the clear blue skies and brisk air. "Nathaniel is my brother." "Hmm, sorry, what was that?" asked Marcus. Having not been paying proper attention, he missed the mumbled confession from Romeo. "I said, Nathaniel is my brother." This time Marcus heard it loud and clear. He stopped dead in his tracks and once again found himself gawping at the old man. His mind was invaded by a million thoughts all at once; was Romeo to be trusted, why hasn't he told me this before, are they still in contact, does Nathaniel know where Tommy is? "Oh stop looking at me like that," snapped Romeo, his own anger quick to ignite. "If you'd stop jumping to conclusions I will explain." Romeo raised a hand to halt the embarrassed contradiction Marcus was about to give and carried on walking. The old man sighed, hugging his jacket closer about him as a chill breeze caused him to shudder. He'd been hiding the truth for so long, from so many people, that dredging up the details now was almost painful. "Let's find somewhere to sit down. It's bloody freezing and this might take a minute." Marcus started yet again at Romeo's profanity, something he wasn't used to hearing from the eccentric old man. 'Is he still my friend?' thought Marcus. 'Was he ever?' He knew he should feel guilty for thinking like this, but his concern for Tommy and whatever it was the two of them were trying to achieve seemed to over-ride all other emotion. He followed in silence, like a scorned child, as Romeo strode purposefully down the street, presumably looking for a cafe or bar where they could sit and talk. Just what exactly were they trying to achieve? Marcus' life had been such a blur over the last week that he barely remembered. None of them really knew the details of what was going on. All he knew was that Nathaniel had some devious plan up his sleeve that would most likely plunge the Guild, and everybody else for that matter, into complete discord. He knew that he and Tommy were apparently reincarnated gods and that a Russian woman known as the The Cleanser had apparently broken free from years of servitude and joined their cause, along with the elderly man walking in front of him. He quickly promised himself that he wouldn't jump to any conclusions about Romeo until he hard heard the entire story, although he was a little more wary of the man than he had been before. Romeo had been a pillar of support for both him and Tommy, and he seemed to know so much about what was going on. He prayed to anything that might be listening that after their talk, he was still able to count Romeo as one of his friends. "This should do," huffed Romeo, opening a door and standing aside to let Marcus enter. The room before him was small, dark and practically deserted which suited their purpose well enough, Marcus supposed. If things got nasty, it would be best to minimise the number of witnesses. He found a seat toward the back of the room, fidgeting in the over-stuffed armchair in an attempt to get comfortable. After a few moments of silence Romeo coughed, causing Marcus to look up at him. He looked as though he were about to start talking, a sheepish but determined look on his face. However, at that moment a surly young waiter chose to come and take their order. His manner pissed Marcus off immediately, but he swallowed his anger and let the boy slouch off having not looked up from his note pad once. Once he was out of earshot, Romeo coughed once more, leant forwards on the table and then sat back again, deciding that actually that was more comfortable. 'I should have told the boy all this from the get-go,' he thought. "I know you are probably thinking all sorts of bad things about me right now," he started, barely concealing his disappointment when Marcus didn't jump to contradict him. He sighed, wilting slightly under Marcus' penetrating stare. As uncomfortable as it was, he knew that he had to tell his story if Marcus were ever to trust him again, so he took a deep breath and carried on. Marcus, for his part, was completely unaware that he was staring. He was too busy listening to Romeo speak, on the hunt for any hint that his words might be false, that he had barely even noticed that he hadn't blinked in rather longer than is usually deemed normal. "Yes, Nathaniel is my brother and at one time we were very close, but no more. I was a Master on the Guild Council with him and the others. My talent for finding the magically inclined put me there and I quickly built up a good rapport with the Grand Master. I was useful to him you see, helping him recruit new members into the Guild and monitoring the abilities of our students." Romeo lapsed into silence when the waiter brought them their drinks, spilling Marcus' coffee in the process but failing to do anything about it. Marcus once again swallowed his anger but stared murderously at the young man's back while he walked away. "We became good friends," said Romeo, taking a sip of his hot chocolate, "the Grand Master and I. I mean, I don't know his name or anything like that, but then again nobody does. The Grand Masters have always been pretty shadowy figures, choosing to remain in the back-ground and issue orders through the Council. Anyway, it took me a long time to realise what Nathaniel was up to but I got there in the end. He'd always ask me seemingly innocuous questions about my discussions with the Grand Master. He was very good at getting information out of me whilst seeming completely disinterested at the same time. I just thought he was being polite and asking me because he felt he should, rather than out of any real interest." Marcus wasn't really sure where this was going, but he could already tell he wasn't going to like it, although not necessarily for the same reasons that he had previously envisaged. "This carried on for about two years and then one day I accidentally intercepted a message meant for Nathaniel. The messenger was new, he didn't know one Master Wrenshaw, thats my surname by the way, from another so he gave me the message thinking I was Nathaniel." "What did it say?" asked Marcus, hoping to prod Romeo into getting to the point. "I can't remember it word for word anymore, but it basically said how useful the information I had inadvertently been giving Nathaniel was and that their plans were coming on well. Thats not the point though, the point is that the letter was addressed to 'The true Grand Master'. This confused and concerned me quite considerably so I asked Nathaniel about it." Romeo shuddered as he remembered what came next. He looked down into his mug, swirling the dregs of his drink around, his eyes flicking towards the door as a young couple walked in, took one look around the place and then swiftly walked back out again. "Nathaniel went into a rage, ranting on about how the current system is weak and broken, that it needs a true leader to bring it back to the powerful, world-leading entity that it should be. I pointed out the fact that it is an internationally known fact that the British Guild of Magicians is the strongest there is but it made no difference. Anyway, when he tried to kill me I decided it was a good time to cut and run." Marcus gasped, unable to understand any brother wanting to kill one of his siblings. He leant forward and placed his hand on Romeo's arm, the look in his eyes trying to convey his sorrow and pity to his friend. Romeo WAS his friend and he was appalled at himself for ever questioning it. This man had been through so much, at the hands of his own brother no less, and here he sat, questioning his loyalty. He blushed a deep crimson, refusing to fight the shame as it washed over him. "That was many, many years ago now. I don't know what Nathaniel has planned, but it must be a very long-term plan because that Grandmaster is dead and buried, with a new one in his stead. I've been out of the loop for so long I know very little of the internal workings of the Guild any more, but I do know that my brother MUST be stopped." Romeo slammed his hand down on the table, knocking over his thankfully empty mug and drawing disapproving glances from their waiter. His anger, left to fester for unknown decades, was rising to the surface. His feelings of betrayal and despair, so often forced down into the furthest recesses of him mind were rushing to the fore and like Marcus, he refused to quash them this time around. He had been running from Nathaniel for too long. He had spent years preparing for this and it was about time he actually grew a pair and DID something. He looked up at Marcus and narrowed his eyes, finally coming to a decision that had been worrying him for a couple of days. "It's time I showed you something," said Romeo. "What do you mean?" asked Marcus, slightly alarmed by the sudden change in the old mans demeanour. "You remember the other day I introduced you to some associates of mine?" asked Romeo, sitting back in his chair and visibly relaxing now that a decision had been reached. "Yes," sniffed Marcus, "I ended up causing serious bodily harm to that one odious little man. How is he, by the way?" "I haven't a clue," chuckled Romeo, remembering the scene and the scent of burning flesh. "About time someone taught that little shit some manners. Anyway, my point is that they are my council, of sorts. You see, for about ten years now I've been recruiting..." "Recruiting who?" Marcus leant forwards, his elbows now resting on the table top. "Are you going to let me finish?" Romeo raised an eye-brow, waiting for further interruption, nodding in satisfaction when none was forthcoming. "I've been recruiting mages and training them in my own facility. You see, given my ability to seek those with a propensity for magic, I worked for many years seeking out those destined for the Guild. When I left, I wasn't willing to face Nathaniel myself, but I thought that if I had a little army of sorts it might be that bit easier." "How many?" breathed Marcus, his face lighting up in anticipation. If Romeo had an army at his disposal, that would make things for him a whole lot easier. He was powerful, but even he wasn't foolish enough to believe that he could take on the entire guild single-handed. "Not many as I had to keep it small to avoid detection, though Ffion helped with that of course. Delightful girl Ffion...you know she has the ability to block...oh, right. Well, Like I said, not many, but at last count it was about five hundred." Romeo managed to drag his thoughts back on track when he noticed the excitement and exasperation in Marcus' eyes. He briefly considered ordering another drink, but quickly changed his mind when he spotted the waiter leaning on the bar with both hands wedged down his trousers. Marcus' mind was going into over-drive. Five hundred certainly wasn't very many, but if he could persuade the Druids to join him, perhaps they could put on enough of a show of force to give the Guild second thoughts. "I want to meet them." "Hmm? Oh, when?" asked Romeo, fishing a piece of pastry from his beard, presumably left over from breakfast. "Now." Marcus pushed back his chair and stood up, hinting at the immediacy of his statement with all the subtlety of a drunk bull, though it only just seemed to register with Romeo. "Well, yes, I suppose now is as good a time as any," replied Romeo, fishing around in this wallet for some money. Marcus sighed and started making his way towards the door, finally hearing Romeo get up and following him. Just as he was about to walk out the door, he heard an exclamation from their table. "What? No tip?" He span round to see their young waiter holding the coins in his palm that Romeo had left as payment and scowling at the pair as they made their way towards the door. Clearly he felt that his actions when serving them had warranted some kind of renumeration, though Marcus and Romeo both disagreed. "Here's a tip for you," hollered Marcus, "don't piss off your customers!" The waiter scowled again, but turned his attention to the table and started to clear up the debris left by the two men. "Good advice kid," came a voice from the kitchen. "Fuck off Frank," the waiter yelled back. "Here, I swear that blokes eyes went red..." Marcus followed Romeo as he strode off down the road, hailing a taxi as soon as one came into view. They settled in to the back seat and, having been informed of the destination, they set off. It wasn't an address Marcus was familiar with, but he had a feeling it was probably some kind of industrial area around the Docklands part of London, like he had visited before. About ten minutes and one silent taxi journey later he discovered that he was quite wrong. They had pulled up outside a quaint but sizeable townhouse in a posh looking residential area of north London. The quiet road was lined with Silver Birch trees, the grass verges were immaculately kept and not a single car, parked either on the road on in the driveways of the other expensive looking houses, looked to be worth anything less than fifty grand. "You live here?" asked Marcus, his eye-brows finding themselves considerably closer to his hairline than they were accustomed to. "Yes my boy, have done since I fled the Guild. Assumed name of course...didn't want to leave any tracks for certain people to follow, you understand." Romeo set off up the gravelled drive, passing a number of high end, high spec vehicles, all capable of carrying at least six people and all completely blacked out. "Romeo, how many people live here with you?" asked Marcus, having counted seven such vehicles on the long, curved driveway and two more in a double garage off to the side of the house. "Well now, lets see," mused Romeo, stopping to lean against a particularly lovely looking Range Rover Sport and running his fingers through his beard. "I'm not entirely sure, but at last count, I believe the figure was around eight hundred." Marcus almost tripped as he attempted to negotiate his way past a brand new Toyota Land Cruiser that was parked a bit close to the flower bed lining the driveway. For a moment he thought Romeo had to be joking, but the tell-tale smile or suppressed laugh that he was expecting never came. "You must mean eight surely Romeo," offered Marcus tentatively, certain that the older man must have made some error, but reticent to cause any kind of offence. "There is no way this place can fit eighty, let alone eight hundred!" "Appearances can be deceiving dear boy," said Romeo with a wink, continuing towards the front door once again. Marcus wasn't really sure what to expect as he stepped through the open front door, Romeo closing the door behind him. Was it going to be bigger on the inside than on the outside, like the fabled Doctor Who's telephone box, or was there some kind of teleportation device hidden inside. As it turned out, the answer was much less fantastical, though equally exciting. Upon entering the rather grand foyer, Romeo ushered Marcus towards a cupboard located under the impressive double staircase leading up to the second floor. Unsure of what to do, Marcus just stood aside and let Romeo take over, wondering what on earth was about to happen. He couldn't help but wonder for the umpteenth time if the old man had finally lost it. Romeo stepped inside the cupboard and, when Marcus showed no signs of following, grabbed his arm and pulled him inside as well, shutting the door behind them. It was pitch black in the cramped little storage space under the stairs but before Marcus has time to mention this, he felt something shift. Suddenly he felt the back wall of the cupboard opening and he turned to find himself facing a bright, spacious elevator, much like one might expect to find in an expensive hotel. "After you," said Romeo, giving Marcus a gentle shove to get him moving. Marcus, for his part, was quite amazed. Magic and demi-gods he knew, but hotel style lifts hidden in stair-cases in expensive London residences was entirely new. "Romeo, what's going on?" asked Marcus as he felt the lift begin to descend. It was a smooth ride and, judging by how quickly the numbers above his head were changing, quite a fast one at that. "Well, it's like you said. That house could never accommodate everybody, so I had an underground facility built to house them all and provide space for training rooms as well." Romeo sounded so matter of fact when he said this that it took Marcus a second to realise that he was supposed to be completely dumbfounded by what he had just been told. "You what? But...I mean...how...how did you even manage to get planning permission for that?" Had his brain not been quite so muddled, Marcus would probably burst out laughing at the absurdity of his question, but for some reason planning laws were at the forefront of his mind at that particular moment. "What's that?" asked Romeo. "You know, where you get permission from the council to...oh...never mind." Finally logic reasserted itself and Marcus trailed off, realising that the construction had probably been magical in nature and unlikely to be known about by any authority on a local, national or magical level. "Ah, here we are. It's lunch time, so lets go to the dining area and see if we can't introduce you around, shall we?" Romeo didn't seem the slightest bit phased by Marcus' complete surprise and awe of this whole situation. Marcus simply nodded and followed Romeo like a lost puppy. He took in as much as he was able of the subterranean facility, amazed by how light and airy it was despite the lack of windows, lights or floating fire as was most commonly used as a light source in magical establishments. As they continued to walk, turning down endless corridors that all looked identical to the last, Marcus noticed a growing noise. It started off as nothing, but it grew and grew until it started to sound distinctly like a large crowd getting very fired up about something. It seemed like Romeo had heard it too, because he started to pick up the pace and soon both men were running towards a set of double doors through which a large, agitated crowd could quite clearly be seen. "What is going on here?" shouted Romeo, attempting to be heard over the din of hundreds of people all shouting and jeering. Marcus wasn't entirely sure, but he thought he could see the epicentre of the trouble about a hundred metres in front of him, based around an athletic looking young man. He climbed onto a table in an attempt to get a better view and quickly got a picture of what was going on. The jock was standing over a much younger looking teen with a bloodied nose, which the jock looked intent on making even bloodier. Turning himself into a spark, Marcus flitted through the crowd and observed, unnoticed for a moment. It didn't take long for the full story to reveal itself. "You disgust me you fucking freak, spying on people in the showers. I bet you want a piece of this meat, dontcha!" The jock grabbed his crotch and waved his hips over the young boy. "I t-t-told you," stammered the kid, " I wasn't s-s-s-s-spying! I'm on clean-up duty this week. I was just getting the dirty towels. I d-d-didn't even know anyone was in the showers!" "Don't give me that crap kid, I saw you playing with yourself while you were watching me!" By now the big jock was getting the whole crowd really worked up, and Marcus was pretty sure that if he didn't do something, this kid was going to be in for some serious pain. Peeping Tom or not, he decided to intervene before things got to that point. Slipping back through the crowd a little way, he reverted to his human form. His appearance went completely unnoticed by those around him as they were all too busy watching the action to pay attention to who was jostling them. Marcus pushed his way through the throng and stepped into the clearing left by the onlookers, directly behind the jock who had bent down to grab the boys collar. "Trust me, you really don't want to do that." Marcus' tone of voice was light and friendly, not giving away the smallest hint of power it contained. "Damn right he doesn't," snarled the jock, who was so wrapped up in his anger that he had failed to notice the vacuum-like hush that had descended on the crowd. "I wasn't talking to the boy, I was talking to you," replied Marcus in the same friendly tone, halting the progress of the fist that was slowly being drawn back above a panic-stricken face. For a moment nothing happened, as though the jock were trying to translate what he had just heard. Finally, when the penny dropped, the jock released his hold on the boy and straightened up, slowly turning to face whoever it was that had been stupid enough to confront him. When he saw the slender framed Marcus standing in front of him, arms folded across his chest and a carefree smile on his lips, the jock almost burst out laughing, but he managed to hold it in. "And who the fuck might you be?" he sneered, taking a lunging step forwards in the hope of intimidating this new foe. "That's irrelevant," replied Marcus, who remained rooted to the spot. "I would, however, like to know who's in charge here?" The jock was slightly taken aback; not only had his attempts at intimidation failed, but the little pip-squeak was brushing his question aside like it was nothing. Not used to being on the back foot in this way, the jock wasn't really sure what to do so, to give himself time to think, decided to just answer. "Usually that would be the old man," he gruffed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, "but he ain't been here in days. I've taken over in his absence, given that the only other Guardian present at this time is laid up in the infirmary with burns all over his neck." A memory from the warehouse flashed across Marcus' mind at the mention of the burnt neck and the corners of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. "By what authority have you assumed control?" asked Marcus, fairly sure he already knew the answer he was about to be given. Just as he suspected, the jock squared his shoulders and puffed up his chest, a cocky grin plastered on his face. "By the authority that I'm the most powerful magician in this whole place right now, and there ain't nobody gonna stop me," he sneered and folded his arms over his chest, pleased by the murmured confirmations coming from the crowd, asserting that he was more powerful than any of them combined. "I see," said Marcus, who then lapsed into pensive silence. After a moment of thought, he looked around at the crowd, then down at the young boy on the floor and then back up to the big jock in front of him. "That chap you mentioned, the one with the burns on his neck...anyone know how he got them?" "No, he won't say...just keeps repeating some rubbish about an experiment that backfired or something." "Would you like me to show you?" asked Marcus, an evil grin pulling at his lips. Well guys, that was chapter 13. Sorry it was such a long time coming, real life gets in the way quite a lot at the moment. Please let me know what you think about the story. My email address is the_elemental909@hotmail.co.uk. Alternatively, you can join my yahoo group at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/the_elemental909.