One upon a time, a man and woman lived in a house in a small village where it always rained--no matter the day or the season. Though the two were very much in love, the husband died unexpectedly, leaving the woman a widow caring for a large house, all on her own.
Then, one evening, the rain stopped.
A stranger appeared in town. Though he was handsome, with beautiful eyes, the villagers were wary and kept their distance. All save for the widow. The spark between them grew into a flame. Though they loved each other, truly, they could not be together for long. The stranger moved on. The rains returned. And, in nine months, the woman bore a son. Beautiful, but most unusual, the child had the ability to compel affection from all around him, and so he hoped to never be lonely. Yet, as time went on and the boy grew older, the others in the village began to fear him. They called him cursed. Inhuman. 'The son of the devil', they said. Eventually, he was shunned. His mother fell ill and died, leaving him all alone in the world.
And so, he decided to become the devil that others called him. Powerful and strong, he fell in with a group of bandits.
Yet the boy would soon remember, in time, that his destiny was not one of loneliness and spite, but love and warmth...
"Goddess, Viki, you couldn't have possibly grown up in a more depressing place."
Somewhere along the dry Yucatan, a beautiful corner of Mexico, sat the village of Guadalluvia. It was a simple and small town, with no particular claim to fame, save for the curious fact that it never stopped raining there. Its villagers were humble, quiet, and devout folk who kept to themselves. Many of those who dwelt in the village were magi of the water and air. In times long past, it was said that Guadalluvia had been founded by exiled Water Priests fleeing the invaders from Europe. Hence, the enchantment.
Victor, tall and beautiful, stood side-by-side with his lover, looking down at the village below the green-gray hill. A gentle misting of rain washed over him. The slate-colored houses, lined up like a children's toy village throughout the lowland, stirred feelings of longing and loneliness.
"I always thought the rain to be beautiful," he said, dreamily.
"I regret not going with the other spellbreakers to the Cancun show," Iggy mumbled under their breath, taking in the ethereal sight of street lamps glowing halos in the rainy mists. "But it's nice to be shown your hometown."
From the rental car (an old, chugging Ford) Spike, Mr. Iron, and Buck, watched their friends survey the village. Spike's eyes went between Iggy and Victor, huddled together beneath a purple umbrella, and Rosa, standing by herself under her red, rose-petal parasol. She'd arrived in town before them, a day earlier. Nobody in the car said anything to each other. There was an invisible divider between them. No sounds, save for the softness of the rain.
The group arrived at a small, rustic-looking inn further into town. Victor stepped out of the car first, immediately drawing strange glances from the citizens going about their business. Heads turned. He ignored them.
"I have a complicated relationship with this town," he said to the others. He nodded towards the older, squat gentleman who stepped out from the inn doorway.
Mr. Iron, stepped out from the car and surveyed the area. "It's charming. In a...wet way?"
Behind then, Spike, on luggage duty, carried several packed cases on his shoulders with little difficulty. "I like the rain! It's so relaxing."
Spike's endless cheer was just enough to force Victor to crack a smile behind his constantly-present mask. He greeted the innkeeper in Spanish.
The gentleman looked them all up and down with a mix of shock and disdain. "Hello, yes. Under Rivera-Rosado? We have you on the books." The man lowered his clip board and gave the masked man a long, hard stare. "So, you're fighters, eh? Usually we have to travel to Veracruz or Oaxaca to see people like you."
Victor demurred. "Most of our federation is down in Cancun. We're not on the card, so we hoped to do some sightseeing."
The man gave him a harder look. "Hm...there's something familiar about you..."
Victor sniffed, and passed it off. "I guess I just have that kind of face."
The man's eyes lingered on him for a moment more, before he grunted, alerting a larger staff member to come out and help them all with their luggage.
Being the strongest twunk in the world, Spike had no issue carrying heavy bags, but was glad off-load the unwieldy luggage to someone else. "What did he say to you, Vic? He was giving you the nasty eye."
Victor smirked and heled the door open for his friends. "He wanted to know what we were doing with so many gringos." He winked.
Rosa looked askance at her cousin, and then, when she was sure he was out of earshot, she whispered to Spike. "He didn't say that. Victor...didn't have the best upbringing in this town. He's keeping a low profile."
Spike wasn't sure how a large, muscular, long-haired man in a purple mask could possibly go unnoticed, but he didn't argue. The mood was off and he didn't want to make it worse. Instead, he looked around the cozy inn. Hanging plants. Pottery on the alcoves. Painted pictures of Leithe, a common fixture of religious artwork around here. It felt more like staying in someone's home than a normal hotel. A nice change of pace.
Once everyone was settled into their rooms, Buck and Rosa sat on the terrace balcony overlooking the village. A green awning overhead kept the rain from bothering them. They had been looking for some private time for awhile.
Buck looked out onto the road below. The mist and the lights of the village gave the surrounding scenery a dreaminess. It was calming.
"So...are we cool?"
From her wicker chair, Rosa looked over at her former flame, more tired than annoyed. "I dunno. Are we?"
Buck bit his lip. He had inherited his father's gifts of charming women first and then completely fucking things up after. "The last thing I want is to be an asshole when you and your family are dealing with this shit. If there's anything I can do...
"You aren't an asshole, Buck," Rosa said, quick. She paused, sighed, and tried hard to put on a more affable demeanor. "Thank you. Really. Just give me a little space. There's something I gotta do."
Buck felt glad to be back in her good graces, but as it went with his flavor of anxiety, a new worry took over. "You, Viki, and John Henry have all been talking to each other in these quiet voices. Something up? Oh my Goddess, is dad SICK?"
"WHAT?" Rosa blurted out. "No! I mean, I don't know!?"
"AGGGG! Is he getting married!? Is there a woman I need to KNOW ABOUT!?"
A woman selling fruit from a cart a few yards away from them suddenly turned her head up to towards the balcony and yelled.
"WHAT DID SHE SAY?" Buck shouted.
"SHE TOLD YOU TO STOP BEING LOUD!" Rosa shot back. She yelled a polite apology at the woman and motioned for Buck to return inside where he could embarrass her less. They both got up and vacated the terrace.
"Just...calm down, okay?" Rosa urged Buck as they returned to the twilit, inn corridor. "Victor and I have some family stuff we gotta do. I don't want anybody talking or freaking out about it."
Buck, blowing a strand of hair from his brow, crossed his arms and searched her face. "Hmmm. Okay. I won't say anything. I respect your privacy.
Closing the door to to the room behind him, Buck turned towards Iggy and Spike, sitting together on one of two double beds. "Rosa, Victor, and Mr. Iron are up to something and I think we SHOULD ALL BE FREAKING THE FUCK OUT!"
Iggy placidly rolled his eyes. "Welp. Glad I wasn't the only one who noticed."
Spike looked between the tow. "Huh? I didn't notice anything."
"Well, no surprise there kitten. I saw John Henry having a deep conversation with Rosa and Victor at the show the other night." The fighter had pulled their pink hair into a bun and had chosen to wore a feminine, white chemise for today's occasion. "Your dad tell you anything about it, Prince?"
Buck was a heel on the edge of a nervous breakdown. "My dad doesn't tell me shit, but he's probably so far up his own ass with Serpent and everything that he wouldn't know anyway. But when Mr. Iron is here, he kinda acts like the second in command. Well, first in command, really."
"Hmmm." Spike made a face as if he was deep in thought (though nobody would believe this). "Who's Chichi Pizza?"
Buck and Iggy looked to each other in confusion, before Spike. "Wh-what?"
"Chichi Pizza," Spike repeated.
"Kitten, are you having a stroke?"
"No!" Spike spat out, frustrated. "Seriously. I overheard John Henry and Victor keep mentioning someone named Chichi Pizza. I just assumed she was an Italian spellbreaker like Big Gio." He blinked. "Or...maybe a drag queen?
It hit Iggy what Spike was talking about, and nearly sent him tumbling off the bed. "Oh, help this one, Mother and Lady. Chichen Itza. It's a Mayan ruin not far from here."
Like a golden retriever, Spike cocked his head to the side. "Oh. Huh. I swear, the more muscles I get, the less smart I get too..."
"Maybe they're gonna take us on a tour there," Buck proposed. "Seems Dad wants to keep me at arm's length anyway. He asked if I wanted to go back home to the ranch." He made a disgusted face.
Iggy, not wanting to get between his boss and his boss' son, tried to approach lightly. "He's just-"
"Trying to protect me?" Buck laughed. "What else is new." The prince of the GSA stretched and yawned, giving his buddies a clean look at this arm pits beneath his cut-off. "I think I'm gonna turn in."
Spike unconsciously sniffed the air. "Am I rooming with you?"
Iggy was quick to elbow drop that hope. "Not on both yours lives!" They snapped their fingers. "Spike, with me. Buck, you with Victor."
Buck smiled, suddenly forgetting his worries. "Looks like I get the big, hunky luchador all to myself!"
"Behave," Iggy warned him. "You may be the boss' kid, but I won't hesitate to Stardust Swing you a few more inches tall!"
"Sounds like a good time to me," Buck said, opening the door and exiting. "Later, studs."
When he was gone, Iggy threw themselves back onto the bed, next to Spike. "Chega! Men stress me out so much. I swear, this is divine punishment."
Spike, pitying his mentor, reached down and gently rubbed his arm. "Hey, we're just going through a tough time, y'know. You've been so supportive."
Iggy dragged his nail-painted hand across his face. "I feel like the baby sitter." He looked up at his mentee and smiled. "Thanks for keeping the spirits, up kitten. You're a tough biscoito."
"Don't know what that means, but I'll take it." Inside though, there was a pit in Spike's stomach. He looked over at the rain-streaked window, in anticipation. Something was going to happen...
It was right around bed time that Iggy approached Spike, about to take his day clothes off, and instructed him to sit and listen. Spike obeyed. Iggy tended to have that effect on him.
"I am going to tell you something in confidence, sailor. And I need you to remember that I have at least ten different ways of breaking your arm any second."
Spike gulped. "Oh...okay."
"I am worried about Victor. He never keeps anything from me. Ever since the trip started, he's been acting....'off'. I know a little bit about his childhood, and I know it was painful. I thought it was just him confronting some old memories, but....his aura is all weird. He's hiding something."
"Yeah. I agree. He's not himself. He's usually the one who calms us down, but now we're all so tense."
"Grr." Iggy ruffled his own, gorgeous hair in frustration. "His glyph of emotions is so powerful. We're all feeling it. It...breaks my heart."
Spike regarded him, pensively. "Are you okay, master?"
After failing to answer for several seconds, Iggy bolted up and off the bed, aiming for the door. "I'm just gonna go outside for a walk. Don't go sneaking off into Buck's room while I'm gone."
"Fuck it. I'm coming with you."
In silence, Iggy and Spike crept down the old hallway, which conjured up thoughts of old haunted house flicks for Spike, making him even more tense than he already was.
"It's dark," Spike said.
"Hmmm." Iggy thought, theatrically, as an orb of light appeared in his hand. It was just bright enough for them to guide their footfalls down the stairs. Their shadows cast strange shapes on the wall.
Out front, by the doorway, Spike and Iggy nearly collided with another person skulking through the gloom. Iggy threw their hand out to cover Spike's mouth before he could let out a shocked scream. He held the light up to the trespasser's face.
"Quit it," Buck hissed, blocking the light from his eyes. He put his finger to his lips and pointed out the foyer window. A streetlight illuminated a small truck outside, its side branded with the Aradia logo.
"What's...Ah-rad-ee-a?" Spike asked, glumly.
"International peace keeping org of magi," Iggy explained. "Came about after the war to prevent the next one. My parents have been involved with them. They're stuffed-shirts, but they mean well. No idea what they're doing here."
Large, vague shapes were illuminated by the truck's headlights, cutting through beads of rain. Victor muttered something to John Henry before rounding back and entering the side of the vehicle. Spike could just barely make out Rosa's silhouette in the front passenger seat.
"What the hell, Viki?" Iggy whispered through gritted teeth. Before Buck and Spike could interject, he gave them a command. "Follow me."
Iggy carefully opened the door to the inn's brick porch, letting Spike and Buck out. The colorful Light magi made a broad, wiping motion with both their hands, creating a barely perceptible ripple in the air in front of him. Spike looked beyond and found the view directly in front of Iggy was like looking through a peep-hole, or fisheye lens.
"What did you just do?" Buck whispered.
"Bending the light around us," Iggy explained. He nodded for them to follow. "It's not a technique I use often, so be quiet, as I do not know how long it will last. But it'll keep us covered a long as they don't look directly at us. Here. Get on."
Iggy pulled back the tarp partitioning the back of the goods truck. There was virtually nothing in the back, save for a few metal cases, their purpose vague. A wall cut off the back from the front, with no way for the drivers and passengers in front to see them.
Spike crawled onto the flat, oil-stained service. "Oooh this is so exciting!", he whispered. "We're like...spies or some shit!"
Buck, more hesitant, followed suit. "Why are we doing this again?" he asked their pink-haired leader.
Iggy scowled, pulling the tarp back over the opening. And not a moment too soon, as the truck motor grumbled to life. "Because I don't like secrets being kept from me, little prince. Something's not right here. We're gonna figure it out."
The gray, rain-stained pyramid rose up from the trees, commanding awe over all. In the times before foreign incursion, the Temple of Kukulcán stood as the centerpiece of power for the Maya who lived at Chichen Itza, City of the Sacred Wells. Only a handful of centuries earlier, the whole of the complex served as a sprawling city that revered water and its power over life. Though time and tragedy had erased the Mayan empire and all of its wonders, its descendants remained. As did the vestiges of its supremacy.
Those stones of Chichen Itza may have faded, yet they stood. An observatory, where astrologers mapped out the heavens, overlooked the silent complex. Pillars kept watch, testaments to warriors past. A stone court, where athletes played their sacred sport, stood not far from the great pyramid.
It was in this quiet, holy space that the truck pulled up to a gate house. A sleeping guardsman, used to chasing off meddlesome tourists, awoke from his patrol to the sight of John Henry and Victor. Even if they had come with nefarious intent, the guard immediately realized he wouldn't be able to confront them if he tried. They were massive, and their eyes brim full with determination. As they announced themselves, the guard peered behind them at the young lady looking out the opposite window. Who were these strangers? All he had been told, from higher ups, was that they were to be permitted entry provided they showed him the proper credentials.
After asking them the right questions, and confirming their identities besides, the guard granted them access to the complex, telling them where to park the vehicle.
The silence that followed the truck door slamming shut was almost oppressive. John Henry stared at the pyramid towering above him. It was underlit by an array of spotlights, giving it an even more potent presence.
"So, what do we do? Just climb up?" He nodded to Victor. "Can't be that easy, can it?"
The pensieve, masked fighter motioned for Rosa and Mr. Iron to follow close behind him. "There's a seal on the door that resembles an otherwise uncarved portion of wall. That's as much as the public knows. Opening that will grant us access to the vault. As far as I know, any other treasures were removed years ago when Alban spies tried to steal the Chalice."
Rosa glanced over at the carved head of the serpent god jutting out from the bottom of the stone steps. "What happened to them? The PFM shoot 'em up?"
Victor shook his head, taking the first step of the great ascent. "Supposedly, witnesses say their eyes were burned out of their sockets by a strange light when they tried to force the door open."
Rosa turned pale. "Oh. Great."
The three climbed the temple stairway in silence, with only the wind at their backs to push them forward. Even here, the skies were cloudy and threatening, with a tell-tale rumbles of the thunder in the far off distance.
The three spellbreakers reached the top-most landing. A singular chamber stood before them, walled off.
Victor approached the temple with great respect, gently placing his palm on the cool surface. He closed his eyes and felt currents of soft electricity. There was magick here. Old. Powerful. Unforgiving.
He sighed. Here goes. "Stay back," he told the others. "Whatever happens."
Rosa lowered her head. "Be careful, V."
It had been a very long time since Victor had attempted what many would call 'the old ways', magick drawn not necessarily from one's glyph, but from the raw power of the spirit itself. He channelled his energy and poured it forward, felt it running in a great current from heart to arm to hand.
"Gods of old," he intoned, a prayer not known, but spoken from the soul. "Gods of old, please allow me safe passage. I come here, not for the sake of my own fortune or aspiration, but on behalf of all humanity."
Rosa and John Henry looked to each other, in shock. What language is that? John Henry mouthed to her. Certainly wasn't Spanish.
The younger spellbreaker shook her head. She had no idea. But she suspected it might be the tongue of the old Maya, and that Victor wasn't even aware he was speaking it aloud.
Soundless, but stark, the wall transformed into solid, cool-blue light. A protrusion appeared from the solid wall, and then jutted out, forming a serpent made of liquid luminosity.
Rosa went to reach out, instinctively, but John Henry held her back.
The serpent slithered around Victor, otherwise unfazed, and forced him several feet backward with its rearing motion. Then, the snake shed its luminous skin, taking on an all new appearance.
He was human, or at the very least, human in shape. The muscular, dark skinned male was adorned with feathers and beads and chains of gold. Three triangular shapes, not unlike wings, framed his godly silhouette, likewise made of the same red, green, and blue feathers. A headdress of stone and longer pieces of plumage lined his head, and he wore his hair long. His eyes burned bright gold, intense, and in addition to the silvery aura that surrounded him, he was also semi transparent.
John Henry and Rosa could only just make out a vague shape in the dark, but to Victor, the Guardian was crystal clear. He suspected he knew the identity of the being, but didn't dare speak the name aloud, or even think it.
The guardian, spirit, god, whatever he was, spoke without moving his lips. A strong, musical voice filled Victor's head. "And yet, you are not Son of Man in whole. Two worlds you walk."
This wasn't Victor's first brush with the supernatural, but he wasn't quite sure what to do. He would have to wing it. "I...don't know what to say. I bow my head in respect." He did as told, kneeling before the being.
"A lot more than most mortals these days." The figure made a slow, liquid wave gesture with his arm. "But, to my point, you are not mortal entire. Two streams of blood run through your veins. You, child, are both Son of the Mother of Men and of Son of the Queen of the Underworld."
Victor hoped Rosa and John Henry couldn't hear this guardian. He shook his head. "I do not come here as man or demon, but-"
The god's eyes flashed brighter, like a spark in flame. "Do not interrupt. My kind have no quarrel with those who lurk behind the veils of shadows. Fear not. You have the blood I seek, and your heart is known to me."
The levitating entity, crowned with feathers, lowered its feet to the ground. Though his expression never changed, Victor felt a 'softening' from the guardian's intense aura. "Your intention are indeed pure, son of two worlds. However, only sacrifice will permit you entry beyond."
Victor looked up, into the eyes of the otherworldly, and rose. "You wish to kill me. Is that it?"
Only now did the spirit express the slightest hint of emotion. It moved its head, slightly, questioning. "You state it as if you are fully prepared to give your life."
Victor's muscles tensed. It had already been a draining last few days. At this point, he'd welcome the peace of death. Still...the others...
"I would not mourn for myself, merely...my heart would hurt for those who I would leave behind."
"Viki..."
Victor snapped out of the divine trance, head turning towards the top of the great stairway. Illuminated in the blue light, Iggy stared back at him, Spike and Buck at their side. John Henry and Rosa appeared to have been taken by surprise, the same as him.
Victor girt his teeth. "Iggy, no!" An intrusion against the divine was likely to spell death for them all. Victor turned back to the feathered divinity with pleading eyes. "Forgive them, they-"
"How interesting," the guardian spoke. "This beautiful one looks upon you with eyes of pure light." It said nothing, for a moment, and then lowered its head. "Sacrifice. Not to I, but for your own sake. Rend your heart from your chest and present it to them."
Breathing heavily, and body quaking with adrenaline, Victor looked over his shoulder at his lover. "I...I have no knife. No dagger."
Spike and Buck stood back. Iggy bravely, took a step forward. "It wants me," they said. "I can hear it. No need to hold me back. I can see your aura, great being."
The serpent spirit extended its hand towards him. Victor went to intercede, but was cut off. "Show your heart to this one. You know the meaning of my words."
Victor blinked. Did he? Then, he felt his resolve collapse. "Oh. Right. Of course." He addressed the others. "Everyone. I am going to need to ask you to turn around."
Mr. Iron opened his mouth, then looked back at his wards. "Do as he says."
Rosa, Spike, and Buck followed the order without question.
"Victor."
Iggy was almost as tall as their partner, but Victor felt significantly larger than them, in that moment. The light that enwreathed them was ghostly, yet it enhanced all of Iggy's beautiful features. He had never shown himself with such softness and vulnerability before.
"Inaci..." Victor said, holding his lover's hands in his own. "I fear I have hid my heart from you for far, far too long."
"What do you mean, Viki?"
It was hard to hold back the tears. This was almost too intense to bear. Under the burning eyes of the divine guardian, Victor spoke his truth. "You have stood by me for almost two years now. We have fought alongside each other. Hell, we've fought against each other too. Yet...you don't know what I look like, nor my real name." He blinked. "Oh, Mr. Iron--"
"Cover our ears too?" Mr. Iron confirmed, smiling. He waved to the others. "Got it!"
Now, Iggy realized what was about to happen. Their jaw dropped, and they looked over in the direction of the glowing spirit, as if to challenge the gods for their lover's sake. "Viki, no! You have a vow as a masked-"
"We may show our true face and reveal our true names to those who are worthy," Victor assured them. Even so, he trembled for what he was about to do. "I have been blinded to your worth."
With a heavy sigh, and great pain, Victor reached behind his mask and undid its ties. He paused. "Look."
And then, he removed it.
Iggy took a step back. He gasped.
"Viki."
Victor's face was startling feminine, a far cry from the machismo he exuded. He was not so much as handsome as he was beautiful. His face was angelic, with full lips, high cheekbones, a tall hairline, parted at the middle, and an aquiline nose. However, his face's most distinguishing feature was the deep, gnarled, white scar that ran the length of his brow, around his right eye. His mask would have just hid it, and so Iggy had never would have guessed it was there.
Of course, the scar was in the crude shape of a heart.
Iggy was frozen. They wondered if this is what it was like for the prophets of yore to look upon the faces of angels.
Victor's eyes, watery, trembled with intense emotion. "It's not just because of my identity that I hide my face from all," he said, his voice breaking. He traced the deep, pale scar with his fingertips. "Los Venoms gave me this scar, many years ago. But I will tell you that story some other time."
He swallowed. "But this is me. My name is...is Alvaro Victor Conrado Rivera." He let out a deep breath, found his courage, and raised his shoulders anew. "And it is also El Amante Intoxico. I wear no mask, but show two faces. I am proud. Unafraid. Love is my strength. It is my sword and my shield."
Iggy had seen this man do flips in the air, throw himself like a bullet into other men, and break at least several different limbs in particularly grotesque ways, rising each time with a smile on his face and gratitude for all around him. So, Iggy knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was the bravest, hardest thing Victor had ever done.
For once in their life, Iggy was at a loss for wit and words. "That's..." he stumbled over himself, trying desperately not to break out into tears. He forced a cocky grin. "A man like you deserves that many names. I love you. Victor." The sentiment didn't last for long. "Um...I'm used to Victor. Is that okay if I just keep calling you that?"
"I love you too." He scratched the back of his head. "And yeah, let's...maybe keep my full name on the down low, eh?"
Behind them, the god (Victor had almost forgotten their presence, in face of all that had just transpired) nodded in placation. "You have shown your heart. As promised, safe passage is yours."
"Thank you," Victor said, respectfully. He held up his mask. "Um...may I?"
Now, at last, the spirit smiled warmly. "You may shield your face again, proud warrior. But be forewarned, other forces amass against you. An even greater sacrifice is yet to come..."
Before clarity could come from that ominous statement, the spirit vanished, dissipated like smoke, and all the light faded. A dark passage remained where once the wall of stone had been set.
Victor wasted no time re-masking himself. Next to him, Iggy shivered, arms around their own shoulders. Must have been a lot for them to take in too, Victor thought.
"We're good now, John," Victor said, giving his companions the all-clear to turn around.
Mr. Iron did as requested, but he was far from easy about the matter. He threw a quick and sharp glare at Buck and Spike. "We are not good, actually. You two. Iggy. What gives? Why the hell did you follow us and think that was okay!?"
Spike and Buck drew back, scared. Iggy interceded on their behalf. "Woah, Mr. Iron. It's my fault. I was worried about Viki and-"
"That's the damned problem with you heels," Mr. Iron snarled. Iggy, and everyone else for that matter, had never seen him snap like this before. Even Rosa, in his good graces, trained her eyes on the ground submissively. "Y'all don't listen to the rules! You coulda' got us all killed had that been a more impatient god! You don't know shit about the things we're dealing with right now."
"Maybe because you've been hiding it from us!" Buck shouted back. Spike inched further away from him.
Mr. Iron looked as if he'd been slapped in the face. He said nothing, stunned.
Victor stepped forward and exerted some his magick to try and let things simmer. "Compadres, let's slow down. We're all feeling a certain way right now, I know. And Buck is right. We have not been forthcoming. So, let me do what we need to do and then I think we do owe everyone an explanation." For the first time in days, Victor smiled. "Okay, friends?"
Nobody argued. Not even Mr. Iron.
Good. Now that the children are taken care of... Victor patted Iggy, still overwhelmed, on the shoulder, before entering the dark chamber.
For a room hiding behind an enchanted lock, it was rather unremarkable and small, though its features were largely obscured by the dark. As Victor entered, the clouds above the temple parted, allowing a beam of moonlight to penetrate the room at a perfect angle. It fell upon a small pedestal, painted red and inlaid with beads of jade, carved in the shape of a roaring jaguar. Upon this throne rested a water vessel carved from a yellow stone, in an almost tall, squared shape. Victor found it more of a vase than a chalice, though still small enough that one could drink from it. Its surface was unblemished and unadorned, except for the base, which was carved from solid gold, with the heads of jaguars. The carvings appeared more Incan, however, than Mayan.
Victor held his hand over the Divine Chalice, which emitted a pale, yellow aura. When he was sure there was no enchantment put upon it, he grabbed it with both hands and left the room as quickly as possible. No sooner had he exited, that a wall of blue light erected itself behind him, forming into a solid, gray stone. The chamber was sealed once more.
All eyes were on Victor as he stepped out into the moonlight. He presented the Divine Chalice to Mr. Iron, not wanting to hold onto it for longer than necessary.
"I have only come upon a handful of enchanted objects in my time," Victor said, teeth chattering. "The power I feel in this one is...it's immense."
Victor took the extra precaution of turning the skin on his right hand to iron in order to hold the Chalice carefully. He cupped it in his large palm. His eyes widened. Now, he understood. "Nothing....like I've felt before. Hot damn." He sighed. "We'll get it back to ARADIA on the double. Let's all get out of here. Place gives me an eerie feeling."
The descent was the same as the ascent, done in silence. Though Victor had succeeded in acquiring the target object, this victory did nothing to break the atmosphere of confusion, mistrust, or profound concern between all spellbreakers present. Mr. Iron, saddled with duty, wanted to get everyone out of harm's way. Buck and Spike felt owed an explanation. Iggy just wanted his lover to be okay, and Rosa and Victor both wanted to return to Texas as soon as possible. There was far too much history here.
Midway between the pyramid and the Aradia transport vehicle, Spike--sick of the awkward silence--turned to say something to Buck (who had begun to trust more and more as the trip went on) when he blinked.
Buck was suddenly gone. A cold, cutting wind washed over the group, who all saw what happened and reacted in kind.
"Buck!" Mr. Iron shouted into the night, looking around wildly. It was clear that whatever had befallen him was magickal in origin, but what kind?
The gang needn't wait long for an answer. Buck's unmistakable voice called to them, desperately, from the echoing dark.
Victor's keen eyes landed on the great ball court, a platform flanked by two, tall walls, several paces away from them. He rushed forward into the night, bidding Mr. Iron to guard the Chalice. Iggy, Rosa, and Spike followed in close pursuit.
Beneath the stone loop, in which athletes of days gone would aim to score their goals, Buck Tamberly struggled mid-air, suspended by forces invisible. As the others (carefully) approached, a pair of yellow eyes appeared out of the gloom, the muscular silhouette around them slowly fading into reality. The bat inspired mask. The dark trunks, kickpads, boots, and winged caped. It could only be Serpent's right-hand man.
With his bulging forearms wrapped tight around Buck's throat, the Bat God of the Underworld licked his lips at the GSA crew. "Looks like we've caught ourselves the son of Colt the Bolt!"
El Amante seethed with vengeful fury. "Camazotz Jr! Unhand him!"
Buck squirmed, yet remained resolute. "No....harder..."
"What?" Camazotz Jr. scowled, disgusted. "Hmph." He dropped Buck to the stones, planting a foot on his back and digging it in deep.
"That's better," Buck said through gritted teeth.
Spike knew Buck wasn't going to show fear, but even his sado-masochism could only go so far in face of a dark magi. Spike drew a finger across his nose--the typical Brooklyn 'fight' gesture--and balled his fist in front of Camazotz Jr's face.
"Hey, pal! This ain't no spellbreaking arena. Give my bud back before we have problems."
Rosa's eyes flashed green and red. "Nobody stamps a thick boot on Buck's back but ME."
Fanged Camazotz rolled his yellow, demonic eyes at the threats. "The only problems here are going to be when I sink my fangs into this beefy Buck's little neck."
From the dirt, Buck let out a muffled groaned. "Did you just call me...beefy?"
"Not the time, Buck!" Iggy shouted. He became a glowing god of alternating pink, green, and yellow hues. "Do you want a fight, BITCH?"
"Do you?" Camazotz Jr. challenged. "Come on, sweet friends. It's very late at night. Aren't you all tired? Hand over the Chalice and I'll hand over the boy."
From behind the spellbreakers, poised for battle, Mr. Iron's voice was deep and resonant. "No."
Spike was stunned. He craned his head towards Mr. Iron, holding the Chalice of Will tightly in his metal hand. "What!? You wouldn't let us leave without Buck, would ya?"
"Same question," Buck said, promptly silenced by a twist of Camazotz Jr.'s boot heel. "GAH! Almost as bad as when Rosa does it..."
Mr. Iron's face was cold steel. "This thing is far too important." He held up his other hand, transforming it into a a long, sharp blade, not unlike an axe. Spike had never seen him use that sort of power before. "We leave with Buck and the Chalice."
"Have it your way," Camazotz Jr. sneered. He picked Buck up by the head, off the ground, with one hand, placing his teeth close to his jugular. "I always look forward to drinking the blood of the innocent!"
"BUCK!"
!!!
"GAH!"
Victor moved faster than anybody could react. From a sprint, he transformed himself into a human missile, spearing Camatozts Jr. right in the gut and sending him flying with him several feet away from Buck, sparing the boy. Mr. Iron intervened at once.
"Rosa," Mr. Iron shouted, "Take Buck, and the Chalice, and get back to the truck. Now."
"Not without my cousin!" the girl protested, fire in her eyes.
"Young lady, that's an order."
"Tch..." She took the goblet in hand, shivering at the energy it contained.
"It's okay, Rosa," Buck said, sullenly. He appeared to be in pain. "Let's leave it to them. Spike. Iggy. Mr. Iron. Bring him back in one piece."
Rosa whipped her head between Buck and her cousin, locked in an intense street fight style brawl with Camazotz Jr., some paces away. "Fuck this," she said, grabbing Buck by the arm. "Come on!"
Iggy and Spike, for all their confidence, didn't dare try and get between the Bat of the Underworld and the Warrior of Love. This wasn't spellbreaking but a full on brawl. Punches, kicks, cheap blows. Muscle against muscle. There was no doubt in Spike's mind that Victor really did want to kill his foe!
"No, baby," Iggy said under their breath. "This isn't you. You're falling into his trap; I just know it."
"I will BREAK YOU," Victor snarled as he wrapped his huge arms around Camazotz Jr.'s waist, hoisting him into the air for a compressive bear hug. "Shatter you IN TWO."
"Gah," Camazotz Jr. shrieked, spitting up blood. It trickled down his lips, curling into a smile. "Good. Give in...to your destructive nature. JUST LIKE OLD TIMES, BABY!"
"Holy shit," Spike said. "He really is gonna..."
"STOP!" Iggy shouted.
It was just enough to draw Victor's attention away for a fraction of a moment. A pivotal error. Camazotz Jr. managed to rip away his right arm and used it to SLAM his fist right into Victor's nose.
CRUNCH
"AUUUGH!" Victor howled, dropping the fiend and drawing back in pain, clutching his nose. A fine torrent of crimson ran down his face, onto his chest, soiling him with blood. He looked not unlike the ancient warriors who would have fought brutally, in this same arena of sorts, aeons ago.
Grinning, the Dark Bat's eyes were the last to vanish as he activated his invisibility. No trace of him, no tell-tell shimmer or outline, remained.
Victor ignored the blood seeping from his nose and spat onto the stones. "Fight me like a warrior!" he challenged. "Not a scared little bat." He grabbed the center of his shirt and RIPPED it right off his chest, exposing his muscles to the air and anointing them with his own blood.
The blow struck him in the gut, sending him back. Before he could stabilize, a kick to the head sent him sideways, onto the ground.
"Not good," Spike said. "We gotta' get in there, Iggy!"
Iggy held up a firm hand. "Wait...someone else is..."
"Idiot!" the fiendish fighter mocked, his voice echoing between walls, obscuring his position further. "My glyph of the mind is useless against your magick, so don't even try it!"
Victor's oily, long hair mixed with the sweat and blood on his chest. He looked like a war god. Proudly, even smiling through the pain, he stood tall. "That all you got, bastardo?"
Iggy leaned forward and held out his hand. Spike couldn't see it, but the Brazilian rock star had sent waves of photon particles forward. The world, illuminated only for their eyes, became lines of pure light, with every object a cold blue and every human a full heat map of rich reds and yellows. Iggy saw Victor, wobbling, unsteady, but ready to deliver Camazotz Jr. back to hell himself if he had to. Iggy also saw Camazotz Jr., slowly and steadily creeping up behind Victor, ready to deliver a deadly sleeper choke.
"BEHIND YOU, VIKI!"
Victor's reflexes were precise and swift. He donkey kicked Camazotz Jr., right in the groin. "That's what you get!" Victor roared.
Iggy stepped forward. "Viki, he's lying. He's a light magi like me! You can sense him!"
Spike's jaw dropped. "Why are you Light magi always so evil!"
"Heh. The Adversary was the brightest angel in the Goddess' heaven, kitten."
Teeth fastened together, Victor pivoted around, beads of blood and sweat dripping from his colossal form. He sent out his magick, picking up on Camazotz's burning hatred right away. He was like a beacon of malevolence, too bright and hot. Victor didn't waste time hooking him right in the jaw, knocking him right out of his invisibility mode, and sending him spiralling into the court walls.
Victor spat, advancing on his stunned foe. "This was not the sport that was once played here, idiot! Do you yield? Or should I crush your throat right here and now?"
The rudo moaned, his jaw set slightly askew. "UGH!" He raised his head, but it was a struggle. "Forget this!" He motioned to somewhere above Victor. "Pump them all full of lead!"
Spike, Iggy, and Mr. Iron's eyes went to the tops of the walls around them. Six or seven suited men, all of them wearing black, skull masks, appeared in perfect synchronization, aiming their assault rifles directly for Victor and the crew. Nobody had time to react, before the first click of the chamber...
"NO!"
Except for Spike.
The Sailor threw himself forward, just past Victor. He held up his hands to the air. Gunfire sputtered like rolls of thunder. Deafeaning. Distinct. Magnified by the acoustics of the ancient complex.
"SPIKE!"
Shells and casings fell, tinkling on the hard stone. When the smoke cleared, Spike stood, lit up royal blue by the energy barrier he'd manifest in front of him, an anchor shaped shield that had stopped the bullets in their tracks. Flattened bullets fell to his feet. He just had enough time to step back, in paralytic shock, and say, "Shit," before he fell to his knees, drained. The barrier dissolved.
"Boy actually did it," John Henry said, mouth wide open. "He manifested a new technique."
Iggy pretended not to be surprised. "B-but of course he did! I'm his teacher, after all!"
The celebration was short lived. From Camazotz Jr.'s slumped positioned, he barked another order. "AGAIN! NOW!"
This time, John Henry was the one to jump forward. He held his arm out to the air, just as the second peel of gunfire went off.
In a blink, a chorus of shouts and grunts precipitated all of Los Venoms' gunmen falling to their feet, dropping their guns, and clutching their bleeding, shattered hands. John Henry had reversed the bullets back at them, in a flash.
That is, all except for one.
Spike struggled to get to his feet, but when he had, it was Iggy he locked eyes with first. "Huh?"
The pink-haired spellbreaker shivered, then looked down at the blossoming, wet red stain spreading across their shirt. He'd been hit in the flank.
"Well...shit," Iggy said. "That's not good." His eyes rolled back into his head and he fell forward towards the stones.
"IGGY!" Spike shouted, catching his mentor, bringing him to the safety of the ground. He pulled his hand back. It was covered wet, red, in Iggy's blood. "No. NO. FUCK."
John Henry was at their side in an instant. "SHIT," he cursed. "I missed it because of this damn thing!" Still, he wouldn't relinquish the Chalice. "Don't move them, Spike. Shit. It's gone right through. Small miracle. We gotta get 'em to the hospital, NOW."
Numbed with shock, Victor stepped back, wide-eyed with terror. "INACI!"
In his stupor, he failed to notice Camazotz Jr. had gotten to his feet and removed a small, dark object from a satchel strapped to his massive thigh. Serpent's 'cleaner' held the night-black slate, the size of a small book, up in the air. Spike caught the movement and assumed he was going to strike the dark tablet over shocked Victor's head.
"VICTOR, LOOK-"
Instead, Camazotz Jr. merely waited for Victor to turn and face him. As he did, an ungodly, green light burst from the tablet. Strange, spidery symbols burned from the black, casting Victor in an odd aura.
He didn't move.
"Poor bastard, Camazotz Jr. sneered. "Here, you're now in the most perfect state of mind to have a look at this!"
"What--'
The transformation was remarkably quick. First, Victor's eyes matched the same light as the cursed artefact. Then, his body changed. The blood on his chest became oily black. His purple mask, likewise 'ran' its colors, becoming a solid obsidian. Even the heart shaped symbol that adorned his brow 'cracked' down the middle, the red heart becoming a sickening green.
Iggy, struggling and slick with sweat, reared his head up. "M...Mr. Iron. Destroy it. Now!"
"On it!" Mr. Iron shouted. He aimed his bladed arm at the dark stone and fired a metal sheath straight into the stone, knocking it from its wielder's claws. It shattered with a lightning clap of toxic green, accompanied by a high pitched, unearthly squeal.
A calm followed. Spike, cradling his teacher, presently bleeding out in front of him, watched Victor slowly turn to face him.
His eyes were like two pale marbles, and the look on his face was one of pure malevolence. He had transformed from warrior god to hellish demon.
It took Spike a moment for his lips to form words. "El...Amante?"
Victor, transformed, glared down at him. "Warrior of Love?" he questioned, hollow. "Stupid twink. What has love ever gotten me? What has it gotten any of us!?" He looked down at his muscle, bulging, with black veins visible beneath his copper skin. "Hate. Sweet hate. It courses through me like venom. I WILL POISON THE WORLD WITH IT."
Spike was too stunned to speak. "This...can't..."
Camazotz Jr. faced his former foe and offered him his hand. Victor spat at it.
The Bat was unbothered. "Heh. Very well. I can give you what you want. Come with us. Come back to Los Venoms, Guerrero Del Odio."
Victor exhaled a bright, green mist. "On one condition. I kill you, when Serpent finally gets what he wants.
"Very well. A pact sealed in death! How divine. Yes, Warrior of Hatred. A fine title."
Victor turned to face his friends. He looked upon his former lover, bleeding on the stone, with indifference. "Pathetic. Useless. All of you."
From their position, half on the ground and half splayed across Spike's lap, Iggy shivered in shock, teeth chattering. "But...Viki...I..."
Then, silence.
To Be Continued
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