The loud buzz of the intercom rattled from the tinny speaker, rousing Rowan from his gentle dozing. He shuffled his feet back into his slippers, and carefully eased himself out from the plush armchair. He wasn’t expecting any visitors. He wasn’t anticipating any parcel deliveries, neither. He adjusted the amulet around his neck, feeling its comforting spiked edges. Dalangaar had been with him for quite a few years now, completely unauthorised of course, but you didn’t become Senior mage in the Council of Sorcerer’s without making a few enemies. The College that the Council oversaw had a few suspicious characters in it, too. It was always wise to have a little magic on hand for emergencies.

He took his time answering the door to his London apartment, whoever it was would hopefully assume he was out, and clear off. Peeking through the spyhole, he frowned. He knew only too well who this was: his so-called successor; the man who had had the audacity to put Rowan on administrative leave. Indefinitely.

The thick, reinforced door slid into deep-pile carpet an inch, and he promptly scowled at his unwelcome visitor; “well now, let’s see, why could you be here to pay a visit to my very humble self?” his words dripped with faux sweetness, contrasting sharply to the snarl upon his face, “am I now officially retired? Finally got round to signing off on that paperwork that’s been filing for the past four years?”

Bryce took the sarcasm well. It was true that Rowan had been replaced by him, while Rowan was still officially holding the post of Senior mage. The Council knew that this would stop Rowan for filing for unfair dismissal, or stirring up a shitstorm with HR. Taking away someone’s power had consequences. Instead, they put power on hold. Underhand tactics, they may be, but they were effective. He went to speak; he’d been debating exactly how to say what he needed to say, but Rowan cut in again.

“I know why you’re here,” he opened the door all the way and swept a hand, inviting Bryce inside his luxurious home. “I knew this would happen! I warned you…”

“You did. I owe you an apology, Rowan. The magic-wielder known as Warlock has, er, caused us some trouble.” Bryce draped his beautiful cloak on the hatstand and took a seat, clasping his hands over his crossed knees.

Rowan sat facing him. “Everything you need to know is written down…”, he trailed off. “You never kept any of my testimony did you? You prat! I told you everything; all about his magic, his bloody magic animals! He tried to bring about the destruction of the entire universe!”

Bryce nodded, patiently, “mistakes, it seems, were made. We need to learn from them so we can move forward.”

Rowan thumped the armrest, “don’t give me that board-speak crap! You labelled me as a crazy old codger, that’s what you did! And now you’ve come here, wringing your hands, begging for information and help.”

Bryce nodded. It was true.

“What did the Warlock do?” he asked.

Bryce rubbed his chin.

“I can kick you out, you know, I can tell you it serves you damn right…”

“He stole powerful weapons from the high-security holding facility.”

Rowan was back on his feet in a flash, pacing by the fireplace. “That holding facility’s security is shocking,” he said. He should know, he’d stolen some choice items from there himself, before facing the funny grey animal at the alien citadel. Fudged paperwork could do wonders. “His magic is on a level we could only dream about. I faced him off with the Staff of Milath and he drained it in minutes! He’s a dragon in disguise! He was about to take control of a Tri-Corn horn sceptre when we landed upon the scene. He will stop at nothing. While he is alive and in full capacity, the entire universe is in peril. He has an army of frightening flying beasts at his side! If you’re going to take him down, you’ll need every charm, every amulet, every magic-imbued staff you have at hand. Maybe more.” He turned to face his guest, who was sat very still, trying to stay composed and calm. “I can help you. I know a way we can make this danger disappear. But there is a price. You know that.”

Bryce would take any resolution, at this point. “I can reinstate you as a chair on the Council,” he nodded.

“Oh no, no, no. I am Senior mage, remember? You’re wearing MY robes, sitting in MY office, fulfilling MY duties.” He could see the confliction on Bryce’s face, and it made his dark heart very happy indeed. He smiled a twisted smile, “it would be such a shame if word got out that wild magic weapons were in circulation. Posing a danger to the public. The black market will snap them up…”

“I get it!” Bryce snapped, his calm demeaner faltering. “Don’t push your luck. You said yourself, you’ve been declared a crazy old codger.”

“Oh, but everyone loves a good conspiracy theory, don’t they? A disgraced mage from a position of power, exposing secrets of the Council? You’d want everyone to think I was crazy, wouldn’t you? Try to keep me quiet, keep me discredited? The more you tell people not to listen to me, the more merit my words will hold! Don’t underestimate me, Bryce, I could bring the Council down with what you’ve told me today. You’ve been very unwise.”

“I did what I had to. For the good of the world. Natural magic is a menace, and we’re trying to eradicate it, mostly with success I might add.”

Rowan was open-mouthed. “You can’t be that stupid,” he breathed. “All magic is dangerous. We only lock away natural magic so we can sell our own. We hold the world to ransom with our power. No-one can challenge us! I knew we were good at selling our propaganda, but to have convinced even yourself of our lies…”

“You said yourself that wild magic is dangerous. It’s untameable. It’s a danger to society,” Bryce squeaked.

“It is! But so is ours! It’s all the same magic, Bryce, it’s all the same. We just package it up in pretty crystals and ration it out. Heck there are thousands of people out there with natural magic inside them, they just don’t know it! They don’t have a clue.”

“You mean they could use power without a channelling aid?”

“Perhaps. But we’ve ingrained into society that to wield magic you have to believe in it, and you have to have one of these…” he pulled Dalangaar out from under his woollen sweater.

Bryce’s brain ticked over. “We’re monopolising magic?”

“Yes! Hell, we’re even convincing people that natural magic is so dangerous we can test for it in clinics, and rid them of it! They’re giving it away, then paying to have it back in shiny trinkets!”

“Could… could we take away the Warlock’s power?’

Rowan’s blue eyes gleamed, “do we have a deal?”

Bryce’s head was still swimming with just how deep the corruption of the Council went. He’d had his suspicions of the various departments, and the dealings therein. He’d had his suspicions of what Rowan Aldbury had been involved in before his fall from grace. He was the figurehead of it all, now. He was complicit. He’d aided and abetted. There was no turning back now. “We have a deal,” he said flatly. “You will be re-instated in full, taking up your rightful place as the Senior mage of the Council of Sorcerer’s.” He rose, unhooked his robe from the hatstand, and tossed it to Rowan, who pulled it on with a flourish.

“Let’s go sort out that Warlock and his Hell ponies,” Rowan grinned.

“It’s a very nice painting, Anar. I like how the orbs glow blue, how did they do that?” Luci asked, as the golden framed masterpiece was hung up in the parlour.

“I did that part myself,” he beamed, proudly. “Embedded magic into it. I was thinking of having a sculpture made next. Big stone statue out by the fountain.”

Luci laughed, rolling her amber eyes, “calm down, dear. Don’t get too carried away!”

“I did save the universe, you know.”

“I know you did, dear,” she kissed him softly, “and I’m very grateful for every moment you’ve given us.”

Anar wrapped his arms around her tight, pulling her to him, deepening the embrace. Warm sunlight made Luci’s auburn hair shine and her grey skin glow. She smelled of fancy perfume and the fresh batch of tea that The Dragon, Valentino, had brewed. His lips skipped down to the curve of her graceful neck.

“Behave!” she whispered breathlessly, her hands moving purposefully downwards, despite her words. She didn’t even notice the crackle of magical energy as they touched. It was an everyday, common occurrence now.

Various devices dinged and vibrated in other rooms, but they could wait for a while. Victus was with Hemlock, out in the conservatory ‘helping’ with the watering of the flowers (he was sat watching in his high chair, chewing the handle of an old watering can), Valentino was chatting in the lounge to one of his many new friends. They had some privacy, and it wouldn’t be the first time they’d sneaked off to the bedroom in afternoon hours.

“How can I behave when you’re grabbing me?’ he teased.

“You started it!”

He bumped her into the sideboard and pressed himself against her with a grind, “I’ll finish it, too!”

“Ooooh, lucky me…”

There was a loud knock at the front door.

They froze, hoping one of the other residents would answer it.

The bell rang.

Anar glanced down to the front of his Calvin Klein black jeans. “You can answer that,” he said.

“I’m sure it’s just post. Wait for me upstairs,” Luci winked. She blew him a kiss as she entered the hallway and walked past the kitchen and lounge.

“Are you expecting visitors, Val?” she called to The Dragon.

“Not today,” he replied. “Is it post? Buying on eBay again?”

“Not me. This time, anyway!” she laughed. She pulled the handle and opened the door.

Luci froze. Her blood ran cold. Faces looked back at her that she had not seen for a long while, and that she would have gladly never seen again, given the choice.

“Is this the Warlock residence?” Rowan asked.

Luci felt her blood bubble. The fight or flight effect that she had come to recognise, as a natural magic owner.

“Rowan,” she said, flatly. “How… can I help you?’ she didn’t mean to sound so welcoming, but she hadn’t time to think.

“We’ve come to reclaim the stolen weapons you have.”

She paled, her hands trembling. “S-stolen weapons? We didn’t… we haven’t…”

A lesser mage offered forth a tablet. She took it, carefully, reading the text upon it. It showed their castle. It showed a locator tag with co-ordinates. A date, and a time. Wednesday last week. “I… I don’t…”

“Understand? It’s very simple. We have proof, proof of theft of dangerous items from the Council of Sorcerer’s high-security holding facility. Now, you can give those weapons back, and face only minor charges and repercussions. Or, you can defy our request and face the full consequences.”

Rowan’s glare burned into her. The man had so much hate for her. Anar had embarrassed him twice, had overpowered him and sent him packing. And he was her husband now. Instead of working for Rowan, she was now his enemy. “We don’t have any weapons!” she insisted, crossly. “I don’t know what bullshit you’re trying to pull here, but you can sod off!”

“Oh dear,” Rowan shook his head sadly, “oh dear, oh dear. That was the wrong answer. You see, with this proof, we have just cause to enter your premises and search for them. We even have a warrant for your arrest, if needs be. You and Mr. Warlock.”

He took a step forward, menacingly.

Luci unfurled a palm, the same way Anar did, and a blue orb sprang in her palm.

Some of the mages took in a breath of shock. They’d been warned of this, but had only half believed it.

“Lucinder Warlock, be very careful of your next movements,” Rowan warned, his eye fixed on her grey hand and the magic within.

There was a roar, and a flash of black, as Guen leapt from a bed of marigolds where the astral cat had been sunning itself. His tag and bell jingled, like a housecat that weighed two hundred pounds.

Magic was fired, shouts uttered, black wisps of smoke as the cat vanished into the astral plane. The Dragon had gifted Guen with the collar for a very specific purpose – Guen could now travel with his nightmare friend Destroyer wherever they wished.

In a moment, the cat returned, along with a massive, bat-winged stallion who thundered into the crowd of uninvited visitors, tossing his horn as he lashed and kicked, snagging cloaks and knocking staffs from hands.

“The nightmare!” Rowan cried in alarm, remembering him. “take down the nightmare!”

Destroyer uttered a deep, resonating bellow and black specks appeared in the sky.

The Dragon sprang out the front step, whipping up a crackling whirlwind.

Rowan spun round, and came face to face with his nemesis.

“You!” Anar roared, blasting him with a bolt of his potent power.

Rowan skidded back. “Hit me with all you have, Warlock!” he taunted, “it’ll soon be your last!”

Anar stood firm, arms outstretched, looking very different in his jumper and jeans to the last time they had met. “Three times the charm? You know I’m no match for you!”

The nightmares swooped, hooves and fangs at the ready. The mages waved their wands, clutched their amulets, did all they could to keep the beasts at bay. Magic struck the castle, bricks glowed as if radioactive. Roof slates slipped off, crashing.

In the clamour of it all, the tinkling of glass sounded out, and a small voice cried.

Anar’s ears flicked, he whipped his head round fast enough to make himself dizzy.

“Fancy a General not knowing about diversions,” Rowan panted.

“Victus!”

Hemlock’s swearing mixed in the ruckus.

“Oh don’t worry, your son is quite safe. We only needed a drop of his blood. That’s all.”

Anar was frothing, “I saved the universe for you!”

“So you say. Where’s the proof? Meanwhile, Warlock, we have proof that you are a menace and a danger to society. We have proof that you have stolen from us. We have proof that your magic is out of control. Well, no more!” Rowan swatted more of Anar’s shots away.

“What have they done?” Luci asked, sweeping a mage off their feet.

“Oh no,” The Dragon’s voice was so small, so frightened. They’d never have believed that a being of pure magic could be intimidated like this.

“Oh yes! As of this day, as of this hour, as of this very minute The Council of Sorcerer’s hereby enforce magical sanctions upon the Warlock family, lasting a sum of five hundred years! We will hunt down every nightmare, every one of your heirs, every magical animal you have ever tainted with your power, and we will destroy them!”

The Dragon dropped his magical façade; he spread his wings, he lashed his tail, he glowed incandescent as the sun, as burning light enveloped the scene with the roaring of wind and a rush of energy.

Energy that he had scrounged and saved, every drop precious and treasured. Energy from every close contact with his aardvark friend. Energy from every magical item he’d been in contact with.

The sky crackled. Lightning flashed. Thunder rolled.

Warlock Court was ablaze with the magnitude of magic that had been placed upon it.

The figures of the mages, and of the Council elder blurred out. The landscape shifted. The single moon was a white line. The single sun a yellow streak. They wrapped the sky in graceful arcs.

Luci and Anar gripped each other tight. Whatever Valentino was doing, they could not stop it. Would not know where to begin. They worried what had happened to little Victus, and if Hemlock was ok, but it was difficult to even breathe, let alone talk. Destroyer and Guen had vanished from the gravel driveway. A coldness took them, replaced fleetingly by searing heat. Again and again. As though seasons were passing in their heartbeats.

The world was turned white.

The world would never be the same again.