Storming the Castle

By Clay Curcio

Try as I had to free myself, theirs was a prison designed to contain my ilk. But they are

right to fear my magic. Judging from my inability to shatter these cuffs, they must have been

forged from the steel bark of the Hinter-Ents. Their hide was nearly impossible to penetrate with

an incantation or curse. Clearly, they spared no expense or ethical concern in securing users of

magic. These were the kind of people I was dealing with; these were the people who stole my

Valkyrie from me; the kind of people who would fell a great and peaceful Ent so that they may

craft its skin into tools of war and enslavement. Servants of the Dark Lord Obamzsis, twisted by

his perverse and sadistic will. But I would not be theirs on this day. The Ur-Wardens, The

keepers of Obamzsis’s cruel law who had stormed my home, only suspected me of having a

magical affinity, and they could only keep me overnight for the lesser charge of defending my

homestead and my love. So when the new day’s dawn broke, they came to release me from my

dank and putrid cell.

“One digital watch. One duct tape wallet. One flip-top cell phone. One sharpie. And

One…traveler's cloak? Is that really yours? You going to a comic convention or something?” the

stuffy little woman behind the desk laughed haughtily as she pulled the mass of dark folded cloth

from the box, as if the person who had booked me had made some kind of clerical error.

“Yes, my traveler's cloak”

She glared down at me from her elevated station, quite literally. The desk, as well as the

rest of the other side of the room was a good 3 feet higher than where I was standing. So even

sitting down in her desk she could look down at me and the rest of the criminals who pass

through here with casual disdain, never having to even shift her weight.

Her look spoke of a nonchalant dismissal of my tools as utterly fungible and not even

worthy of a sewer brat’s reliquary. This caused my rage to bubble forth, threatening to contort

my countenance into one of basest hatred, to propel me over the desk and onto the throat of the

corpulent little toad sitting in front and slightly above me... but I had wasted enough time during

the last nights passing, and who knows how long they would keep me if I assaulted one of their

own in their stronghold, or even if they would let me live. Val needed me, and for her I would

stare stone-faced into those beady cataract orbs until I went blind. So I did just that. I stared into

her, unblinking, emotionless, boring into the vast empty abyss that was her mind.

“Oooook. So you, Hubert Maywood, confirm that all your personal effects are present

and accounted for?”

“Yes”

“Then your time for misdemeanor assault and breach of the peace has been served and

you are free to go… back to your mother’s basement.” This drew a boisterous laugh from not

only the clerk, but the two other warden’s manning the vault of possessions as well.

Having already steeled myself against their ridicule and mockery, I collected my things

and left without saying another word. As I exited the complex, I had to shield my eyes from the

sun as they adjusted from the perpetual night of this prison. I drew my hood over my head,

providing me with shade, but more importantly denying those who walked these streets witness

to my identity. They knew of me now, they’d be watching my movements. Had I simply allowed

them to take my love from me, had I been weak, I could have walked the streets with my head

held high, a proud member of this community. The memory of last night still burned within my

mind, however, and I could forgive just as well as I could forget.

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“Sorry Bernie, we hadn’t received word that you were coming down to question him, or

we wouldn’t of let him go until you were done. The books said he was to be released today, so

we cleared him out as fast as we could. You know how it is.”

“Heh, yeah Stacy, I do. It’s no problem. How long ago did you say you let him go?”

“About an hour an half, give or take.”

“Could you give me his current place of residence then? One of your deputies drove

down there yesterday, I don’t think I can find my way back. Maywood's probably still there.”

“Sure thing. Give me a second to pull it up.”

She scribbles up a note and passes it to me. I exit the little suburban outpost and walk

back to my squad car. As I settle in the driver’s seat I just sit there for a minute for a moment

before turning the car on. I don’t usually come out this far out of the metropolitan area on work,

but this being a favor for some old friends, I gladly made the exception. I’ve been here more than

once though, and I pull out of the police station’s officer’s lot without having to look around to

find my place. The note that Stacy gave me puts him at about a five minute drive from the

station. John and Martha said they needed help with their daughter, Valerie. Said they were

unable to help her on their own, anymore. They told me that they were afraid that she was in a

bad way, that she losing her sanity again - that she had fallen in with a bad crowd, in particular, a

bad man. I pictured the bright-eyed little girl I used to see running around and giggling at family

parties, the shy adolescent who used to bury her head in stories about fantastical places, and the

moody teenager who would scream at the top of her lungs that no one understood her. She was a

sensitive kid, too sensitive for a world like this one. Sometimes something would get to her, like

an animal being hurt, and it just wouldn’t let her go. That million dollar smile would turn into a

grimace that wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t stop. It became too much for her when she was around 16,

and she had to be hospitalized. After a few months though she seemed to be alright, and she was

back at John and Martha’s until she graduated High School.

But that was a few years ago. When her parents called the other day, she’d been off at

college for the past three years, and I hadn’t seen her since. They told me what caused them to

resort to calling me. It’s not that we weren’t close, but you don’t call in a detective who works in

metropolitan vice for something you think can be handled peacefully. They told me they tried to

get her to come home for breaks, but she kept coming up with excuses not too. Understandably

worried, they got in the car and came down to see her. When they knocked on her door a man not

much older than she had answered, telling them some nonsense about ‘not having placed the

proper charms’ before knocking or some such nonsense - and that he couldn’t let them in. They

told him that they were Valerie’s parents and they wanted to see her, at which point she came to

the door. When they asked her what she had been doing and if she would come with them to

lunch so they could talk, she repeated what the man had said, adding that they had done great

offense to the specters that inhabited their “dominion” and that she would have to hastily conduct

a ritual to prevent them from harming her. She proceeded to engage in some unintelligible chant,

raising her arms and wailing at the sky. When asked again to please come with them, she looked

through them as if they weren’t there and quickly went back inside, locking the door behind her.

This worried me as much as it worried them, and I told them I’d take care of it as fast as could

legally be done. Thankfully things went as smoothly as could be expected when I went down

there to take her in. All I had to do now was check up on this guy and see if I can make sure he

stays away from her, be it with a restraining order, court-ordered institutionalization, or good old

prison time. A simple yet clear warning may have to be enough, given I don’t have any concrete

evidence of any misdoings on this Hubert’s part. So long as he stays away from Valerie, it was

good enough.

We were close, in the uncle who isn’t really related to you kind of close. She was a good

kid, smart, compassionate. I involuntarily clenched my fists around the steering wheel of my car

as the thought of some psychopath taking advantage of Valerie passed through my mind. I calm

myself, she was safe already. Her parents had some pull with the Asylum where they had sent

her when she was a teenager, so they were able to get them to legally commit without too much

bureaucracy. Yesterday night I had taken some deputies from the local department along with

orderlies from the hospital down to her and her boyfriend’s place.

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It was dusk, the sun lazily hanging onto the horizon for just a few more minutes. It had

been a beautiful day, and we had done much good. But it was not to last, for when night came, so

did they. The Ur-Warden’s were not the ones who took her. They simply provided the martial

presence required to safely make the capture. No, those who took her were far worse. Clothed in

white robes they came. Much more subtle than the Wardens, trained in the ways of deception and

torture; these were the anti-mages, the denier’s of Magic. They came calmly at first, asking to be

let in as if they would have left had we not permitted them entry. This was but a façade. When

they finally accepted that they would not be permitted voluntary entry, the wardens broke the

door down. They charged in first, securing the portal so that the anti-mages could subdue and

capture their prey without it escaping, or attacking. They came in single file, cooing their

hypnotic suggestions as they poured into the gateway of our house,

“Everything is going to be okay, Valerie, were not going to hurt you”

“Stay calm. Just come out and come with us”

“We just want to help you, you’re not well”, they spoke in turn, creating a fan of ivory-

clad bodies in front of us, blocking us into the hallway that connected our bedroom to the

entryway.

“Please Hue, don’t let them take me”, she whispered into my back, pressing her cheek into me as

she clutched at my chest from behind.

“I won’t. Stay close”, I made a sweeping motion with my arm, telling her to fall in behind

me.

“I won’t say it again: get out of our home”, I stared down the middle one as I said this, a

burly man in his mid-40’s, graying, but still a wall of muscle. There’s little chance I intimidated

him. I was fairly average for a man of my age, neither particularly small nor large. But I was a

scholar, not a warrior. I used my magic for discovery and adventure, not war. I had not the

incantations that would allow us to make a clean break. So I turn to the only recourse I have left,

my body. I lunge at the burly hunter-seeker, yelling at Valerie,

“Run Val! Out the back. RUN!”

I know not where she will run too, but so long as she gets away, I will find her.

I crash, screaming with rage, into the phalanx of bodies in front of me and hardly even

make a dent. I’m quickly overcome by a flurrying throng of arms and legs straining to control

me, to pin me down. Knowing my distraction will be extremely short lived if I don’t try to put

up a fight, I blindly swing my only free arm into the air and hear as well as feel a satisfying

crunch as it connects with one of my assailant’s noses.

“Aaargh”

After a few moments they finally got all of my flailing parts under control. The Anti-

mage I first charged, the big one, sat squarely on my back,

“I got this fucker under control, go after the girl. Try not to hurt her.”

“I know, I know”

She hadn’t made it far, having tripped over one of the gnarled tree roots that filled our

yard. I saw them escorting her into their red white and black carriage, her head low, tears mixing

with the dirt on her face as they marched her along.

She Pleaded with them meekly, knowing they would not hear her words,

“Please, I don’t want to go back there. I’ve been good. I haven’t hurt anyone.”

“We know, we just want to help you get better, that’s all. Come along now,” said one of

the white robed men as he put her into the carriage. That was the last I saw her, my arms chained

behind my back, watching through the front window. I didn’t see where they went, but I knew

quite well where they were taking her.

I keep my magic’s guarded in mixed company, unlike Val. She’s too trusting, too kind.

That’s probably why I love her. But the world is a harsh place for someone like Val. It takes

everything you have to give, and then it keeps on taking until you have nothing left.

They would have liked to take me where they took my Valkyrie, but I gave them no

ground to go on, no grand displays with which to determine my affinity with magic. I’ve seen the

place they took her, from a distance. It hasn’t a name. It never needed one. The horrors that

transpire within its walls are unspeakable, so lurid and vile are their “treatments”. It is there that

they strip the magic from one’s soul. They cook up noxious concoctions, meant to dull the

wonder and power of that shines from the eyes of all fey-walkers. And once the mind has been

subdued, made malleable by their pills and potions, they hook up the poor souls to their

inscrutable machinations, which pull and break the strands of their reality until it splinters;

falling away. I have seen the once-mages who walk out from their doors. They are never the

same. That beautiful spark of creation is gone from their eyes, stolen to fuel the insatiable war

machine of their new lord.

I break myself from my reverie and I begin walking back home with posthaste, as there

was telling what they may have done to her already, how much of her mind they have already

dismantled. Time is of the essence.

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I’m about two blocks away from Maywood’s place when an APB is broadcast over the

radio,

“WE have an APB out on a twenty three year old white male, 5’ 9”, name of Hubert

Maywood. The suspect robbed a HCV Sporting Goods on Belmont and Clark - Broke into a

secure gun cabinet - injured a store employee and shot a security guard when fleeing the

premises. Both are in stable condition, but require immediate medical assistance. The suspect is

armed and considered highly dangerous, approach with caution.”

As soon as I heard where this was going down, I flipped my lights and sirens on and pulled a 180

in the next intersection, accelerating hard into the opposite lane of traffic. Whatever this

psychotic was up too, I had to stop it fast. He was my problem now.

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This bazaar was one of the more lavish ones I had the opportunity to frequent, and it was

generally a pleasure to make the trip down here to peruse their goods. Today, however, pleasure

was not on the table. I had already purchased all the survival accoutrements and alchemic

catalysts I had cared too on previous ventures. Today’s visit was poinent, as there was only one

thing I needed from them. Having walked through the majority of the expansive marketplace, I

reached my destination nestled at the back of the market. A lone trader manned this stall, a man

not much older than I, but certainly a fair bit more sullen. The merchant’s calling was not his.

Behind him lay the reason I had come here. Ensconced in enchanted glass lay the finest selection

of blunderbuss I had ever laid eyes upon. I shame myself for having to resort to such savage

weaponry, but I have no other recourse. The fortress they took Valerie too is the headquarters of

the Anti-Mages. The castle, as well as its guardians, will be hardened to all kinds of magic. How

else would they keep such powerful beings caged there?

No, magic was out of question. In order to get in I had to employ more straightforward

tactics. Brute force for brute force. Savagery for savagery. I approach the sedentary man at the

counter and ask him,

“How much for the semi-automatic assault rifle, sir? The one directly to your left.”

Starting slowly, taking a moment to register both my presence and my query, he looked

at the rifle and then at me,

“You mean the Remington M4A1 variant? She’s a beaut, isn’t she. I can tell you know

your firearms. You know, we have a special right now on this night-vision scope attachment that

is totally fucking awesome. I’d be willing to hook you up with-”

“I know everything I need to know about this firearm. How much does it cost?”

“Whoa, chill out man. I was just trying to be friendly. The gun itself is $750. But for only

75 more bucks we can hook you up with the night-vision scope AND a leather carrying case for

both the gun and the scope. It’s Pretty good deal, I have to say.”

“No thank you, just the rifle will do. $750 for the gun you said?”

I rifle through my pocket for the large wad of currency I had taken from my safe. I didn’t

know how much the rifle would cost, so I brought much more than was necessary. I’m about to

hand him the money as he tells me,

“Oh, sorry man, we have a one week waiting period before you can get your gun. Put

your name and social down on this pad here and come back in seven days. We’ll let you know if

you can go home with your sick new rifle.”

This was going to be a problem. I didn’t have a week. I’ve wasted enough time in that jail

as it is.

“This is going to be a problem. I need that rifle tonight.”

“No can do man, the laws the law. Don’t worry though, Most people get checked through just

fine, so long as they aren’t felons.”

“If I were to pay you twice the guns listed price, would we have an understanding?” I wave the

wad of cash around suggestively.

He looks on, sorely tempted, but returns to that look of fear he must get when he imagines his

superiors find out he allowed his palms to be greased,

“Sorry dude, I can’t. You must really want to go hunting with your buds tonight, and I can

sympathize, but my manager will crack open my head and eat my brain if I let this gun go

without a proper security check.”

“I understand”

And I really did. He wasn’t the only one unfortunate enough to be employed by a mind-

consuming demon witch, as I had my own workplace memories with which to couch this fear.

But today, unfortunately, was not his lucky day. After waving me off and beginning to turn

around to inspect the gun I had wanted, I grabbed the base of his skull from behind, ramming it

as hard as I could, face-first, into the plane of glass in front of him. Some blood spurted from his

blood and his mouth as he groaned. Almost as quickly as he had hit the glass, he plummeted

towards the ground. I detached his keys from his waist and open the arms closet. I grabbed my

weapon of choice and slung it over my shoulder. I was short on time. Nobody was at the back of

the store when I had mashed the merchant’s face, but someone had heard the noise and was

starting down the aisle. I took as much ammunition into my bag as possible, loading a clip into

the rifle, and took off towards the front of the store. The guard at the front of the building took

immediate notice of my hasty exit and large firearm, ordering me to stop and drop the gun. I

could not stop, nor would I. I raise my weapon and sight his knee, pulling off two rounds. He

drops quickly, screaming with agony. He had not wronged me, but he would have stopped me

and turned me over to his dark masters, which was unacceptable. The knee was a courtesy. I had

what I needed. Now it was time I storm the castle.

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Maywood was long gone by the time I got there, even blowing every red light across town. I

didn’t have much time to determine where he was going next. He had stolen a dangerous gun and

most likely planned to use it. The gun clerk and security guard had little to say, angrily nursing

their injuries, and had no idea where the “crazy asshole” was going next. A woman who had

been exiting the store at the same time as Maywood had heard something however,

“He was talking under his breath, so most of it I couldn’t understand. I do remember

quite clearly hearing something about ‘storming a castle’ and ‘rescuing his valkyrie’, whatever

that means.”

Storming the castle? Rescuing his Valkyrie… Valerie. Oh no.

I didn’t even tell the woman thank you. I just tore for my car as fast as my aging body

could take me. I knew where Maywood was going next, but not if I would get there in time.

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The clerk at the front of the building had been helpful enough, once my gun had been

pressed firmly against his temple.

“She’s in room 324, alright. Room 324, I swear. Now I told you what you wanted, just

please don’t kill me.”

“Thank you”

I pull the trigger, his brains splatter. He would have had me believe he was innocent, that

he was blind to what happened within these walls. He wasn’t innocent, and he did see. So he

died. I take a quick look at the floor plan hanging on the wall next to him. She’s on the third

floor, near the stairwell lying to my left. That was good. If she couldn’t walk, I could carry her

out.

As I race up the stairs, I hear footsteps patting hurriedly down towards me. The racket

caused by my weapon probably resounded throughout the castle, inspiring fear in the captors and

hope in the captives. Two ivory-clad men rounded the stairwell as I ascended the last set of steps

to the third floor. Anti-mages. Fools.

Seeing my weapon, they gestured at me, speaking softly,

“Whoa, calm down there bud. You don’t want to hurt anyone. Just put the gun down and

lets have a talk. Just a talk.”

“No”

They fell as quickly as the one downstairs, but made quite a bit more noise as their now-

limp bodies cascaded down the stairwell. I pressed onwards. I was so close now. I could see the

numbers on the door. Three. Twenty. Four. I steeled myself for what I was going to see, as there

was no telling what they had done to her. I peered through the small glass pane that sat atop the

door and I could see her.

As she lay there; her face bespoke a peaceful rest. But it was a lie. She was shackled by

her arms and leg, like some beast, the leather manacles taught against her supple skin. I didn’t

need to see anymore. I was going to get her out of there and this place would be but a long

nightmare washed away by the new dawn. I took out a pair of pilfered keys and unlock the door.

I swung it open hurriedly, not worried about waking her. As soon as I reached her side I go about

loosening her cuffs,

“Valerie. I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m so sorry. But I’m going to get you out of here

now. Val. Val!”

I got the cuffs of her arms and legs and began to raise my voice, shaking her. I noticed bruises

around her wrists and ankles. She hadn’t gone without a fight. That’s my Valkyrie. The last thing

I wanted was to be hard with her. How I would have loved to welcome her back slowly, gently,

as she would have. But time was not on our side. There could be no doubt that the authorities

were closing in on me.

“Val. My sweet Valkyrie, please wake up. We need to get out of here. Now”

Finally she stirred, opening her eyes. They took a moment to adjust to the low light of her

darkened cell, but she soon recognized me.

“…Hue. Hue, it’s you. You came for me. I thought they had taken you, that they were

trying to change you too. I thought I was going-”

“Hush. No being, demon or god, can take me from you. We’re going to leave and never come

back. They’ll never be able to find us again. But we need to go now. Can you stand?”

“I think so, but I feel a bit weak.”

“lean on my shoulder. Got it?”

“Yeah, I’m good”

“Good, we’re getting out of here.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Damnit. Damnit. I was too late for these people. Too late for the clerk at the desk and too late for

the orderlies lying in a bloody pile mid-stairwell. But his car was still parked out front, engine

running. So I could still save her, I could still stop him from hurting her. I bolt up to the third

floor, keeping my eyes off the dead men lying at my feet. As I reach the third floor I see him.

The man I saw last night, eyes full of fury. But there was no fury in his eyes now, just cold

determination. He carried Valerie on one arm as she limped languidly behind him, half asleep

from the narcotics in her system. He carried the rifle in the other arm, ready to make a hip shot if

necessary. Seeing me, he turned her behind him, shielding her as he had the previous night. He

released her arm and steadied her on the wall, all the while keeping the gun trained on me. He

steps away, clearing Valerie from the line of fire. But Had I risked drawing my gun, all three of

us could end up dead. I put my hands up, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. I

needed to get close enough to disarm him without hurting Valerie.

“Please, don’t hurt the girl. Just let her go and there doesn’t need to be anymore blood on

your hands tonight.”

“Any more blood on my hands? You think I mean her harm. You couldn’t be further from the

truth. I’ve come to set her free!”

“You’re not in your right mind Hubert, you wouldn’t know if you’re hurting her. If you love her

like you say you do, let her go. They can help you two, and maybe one day you can be together

again.”

“You're right, we might find our way back to each other, but if we did, it would be only out of

instinct. You would return her to me, and me to her, as little more than soulless husks. Placated

into your vision of reality. Devoid of magic.”

He stares at the ground, mulling my proposition over a final time,

“I think not.”

I try to reach out to her, perhaps all of this has wakened her to her senses,

“Valerie, please, stay with me. Your parents miss you very much. Your dad wants to see

his little girl again”, I pleaded with her, trying to free her from his mental grasp.

She recognized my voice, but didn’t raise her eyes to look at me. Stating simply,

“Hue is right. I’d rather die than go back in that room. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

She looked at Maywood, trying to say something, but started to pass out before the words

could come out.

Maywood broke my gaze to look at her, which was his mistake. Seeing my only chance

to get her back safely, I unlatched my gun from its holster and drew it as quickly and as steadily

as my arms could manage. I tried to Draw a bead on Maywood, but it was too late, I Saw the

barrel of his gun pointed down at me, eyes fixed, as mine just barely came to level. Then it all

goes black.

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My iron steed carries us as fast as it will go, its innards thrumming with the heat and power of its

motion. We were free, our magic intact. Val lays beside me in the passenger’s seat, asleep with

her head crooked into the neck of the chair. I could tell she was dreaming from the movement of

her eyes. What dreams she had. Great visions of things past and yet to come. Warnings and

signs, for Dark portents lay ahead. I must remember to ask her what she saw upon waking, if we

are to have any hope of weathering the coming storm.