The Four Kings

by Scott Spotson

  The older teenager angrily grabbed the back of the leather jacket of his customer. “We agreed on five hundred dollars. Pay it now. Or give it back.” The younger Demus glanced at his friend in fear.

  The customer swatted away the older teenager’s grip and kept walking away, his friend in lock step. Furious, the older teenager jumped on the back of the departing customer and started pounding away at his head. “That’ll teach you, you scum!”

  The customer jabbed back his elbow to push off the older teenager, who felt to the asphalt, sprawling. Then, the customer’s friend took out a gun and shot twice at the fallen teenager. The two young men fled the scene.

  “Oh, my God!” Amanda shrieked, holding her hands up beside her head.

  Horrified, she watched as the younger Demus ran after the departing young men. The present-day Demus pulled at Amanda, urging her to follow him quickly. Ashamed to be darting past the bleeding and groaning teenager, Amanda rounded the corner to find an open square.

  The younger Demus was crying and enraged at the same time. Realizing the fugitives would soon outrun him, the younger Demus crouched and gazed intently at the departing figures. “Nooooo!” he cried out, emitting a primal scream.

  To his astonishment, the two young men got swept off their feet by an invisible force and both of them were hurled airborne ten feet into the nearby brick wall. They had rammed into the wall in sideway positions, falling down to the ground onto their shoulders and arms. The two fugitives groaned as they tried to arouse themselves with great difficulty.

  The younger Demus ran closer. He was overwhelmed by the odd incident, but he was also grieving for his friend. “Nooo!” he yelled again, clenching his fists.

  Dazed, and severely injured, the two young men stood up, wobbly. They gazed at him, uncertain of what had happened.

  Swearing, and very vocal, the younger Demus grasped into the open air with his arms. “You blood suckers!” He yelled again, and then screamed, “Murderers!” Without realizing it, brown glass beer bottles appeared in his hands, one at a time. He starting throwing them at the two astonished young men, and further extending his arms, caused them to explode mere seconds away from the doomed victims. One after the other, showers of broken glass sprayed the two young men. They both fell within seconds, bleeding severely, but the younger Demus didn’t let up.

  Demus kept on going. He raged. He yelled. He threw without inhibition. He threw one bottle after another. The bottles all unerringly exploded mere inches away from the two crumpled young men, already dead.

  After a few minutes, the younger Demus still raged. He settled for aiming the bottles directly at the wall above the two corpses, scattering bits and pieces of glass over the bodies.

  Panting and hyperventilating, the younger Demus sank to his knees. Amanda’s heart curdled at his expression of pure anguish. The young wizard looked at his hands, and then sank to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

  She couldn’t take it anymore and buried her face in the present-day Demus’ chest, crying.

  A sullen Demus pushed her away gently, then placing his hand under her chin, twisted her face back to full view of the spectacle. “No, you must watch. All of it.”

  “I can’t.”

  “This was when I found out I was a wizard,” he said.

  Amanda gasped with horror. The younger Demus crawled on his hands and feet, wracked with grief. Mustering all his effort, he ran over to his dead friend. Sobbing again, he hugged the lifeless figure. “Noah!” he wailed, clinging tighter than ever. Blood seeped onto the younger Demus’ jacket and shirt. “Noah, I love you.” Wiping his tears away with his bloodied arm, the younger Demus moaned, “This is shit! This isn’t real.”

  Horrified, Amanda kept gazing at the tragedy.

  “That was my brother,” he said next to her.

  Amanda quickly turned to face Demus.

  “My brother Noah,” he said, “He was eighteen and a half when he died. Ten years ago today.”

  Amanda cried again and launched herself into Demus’ arms.

  “I loved him very much,” Demus solemnly said.

  Amanda stepped back. “And you couldn’t bring him alive again?”

  “No wizard can bring back the dead.”

  Amanda sniffled, unsure what to say next.

  “So, this is who I am. Take it or leave it. You see how I’ve struggled to stay noble to the values of the Liberators.”

  “I’m so sorry, Demus. I had no idea.”

  “No, you didn’t, Amanda.” Then he vanished.

  She was startled by his disappearance. The sun was settling in this artificial scene. She looked around for an escape route. The shadows of the buildings loomed ahead of her.

  Then she shrieked.

  The two young men that had died at the hands of Demus’ magic were now standing! Evil glances in their eyes; they were now holding knives and advancing slowly upon her. Sharp shards of glass adorned every square inch of their clothing and skin, embedded into their cheeks, nose, and temples. Blood stained the two men everywhere as they continued to advance on her.

  Amanda screamed and screamed. She was too terrified to run. “Demus!” she yelled out frantically.

  He appeared ten feet away from her. He was now wearing black – black leather coat, black jeans, and black cotton shirt. He gazed upon her with a nasty expression.

  “This part now is not real,” he said. “Up to the part where I was standing over my dead brother, grieving his death, it was all real. Now you can see the torment I’ve been facing ever since that day. The nightmares that haunt me still.”

  “Demus, get me out!” Amanda hollered, ready to collapse.

  “Now you understand,” Demus said coldly. “It shall be so.”

  In an instant, both Demus and Amanda vanished.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Demus, I’m very disappointed in you,” Indie said.

  He squirmed uncomfortably, his shoulders hunched. “It was the tenth anniversary of my brother’s death. I was depressed.”

  “Why Amanda though?”

  Demus lied. “Because Mortals killed my brother, who was also a Mortal. Amanda’s a Mortal. She would understand.” He said the last three words with sarcasm, but the irony was lost on the other three wizards.

  Amanda shifted uneasily, but was relieved to see the three other wizards had believed Demus.

  While private meetings of the four wizards were very rare, Amanda had requested it.

  “We should think of a punishment,” Indie stated, glancing at everyone for feedback.

  “Wizards don’t punish each other,” Justica pointed out. “Besides, Demus wasn’t in his normal state. You saw how he was at the Games. He was—”

  Indie cut Justica off. “Well, this inexcusable behaviour can’t be ignored. We must do something.”

  Justica reflected. “We can’t show the consequences of his punishment in front of our public. It’d affect our capacity to govern.”

  Indie frowned. “Good point.”

  Regi extended pointed a finger and said, “I’ve got it!”

  Indie turned to him. “What?”

  He massaged his chin. “It is of value for Amanda to learn about each one of us. Demus has shown Amanda his rather unfortunate past, which we all already knew. Why don’t we all take turns showing her a part of ourselves that enriches her experience on the job?”

  Stunned, the wizards all looked at one other.

  “I mean,” Regi said, “Amanda’s responsible for over five hundred million people. She’s the liaison between the Wizards and the Mortals. She’s already familiar with the Mortals. Shouldn’t she learn more about us wizards?”

  Justica shook her head. “I don’t like it. We can’t divulge our secrets to a mere Mortal, no matter her position.”

  “Well,” Regi argued, “We’re all responsible wizards. We only show our personalities, what makes us tick. No Wizard secrets. That way, Demus won’t have an inside advantage.”

  �
��Good point,” Indie noted.

  “He’ll have no hold over Amanda’s decision-making. We’ll all have an equal say in how she perceives us.” He glanced around the table. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t like it,” Justica murmured.

  “I like it,” Indie said decisively. “All agreed?”

  Reluctantly, Demus shook his head, not looking up.

  “Justica?”

  Her face fell. “Very well. But do not, under any circumstances is anyone to reveal any wizard secrets.”

  Amanda felt thrilled at the consensus, but added, “Shouldn’t we take a vote?”

  Indie had an icy response. “The Liberators do not take votes.”

  Amanda backtracked. “Sorry…”

  Indie asserted, “We reach all decisions by consensus, unanimously. That’s the way it always has been and always will be.”

  Those seated around the table fell silent.

  “All right,” Indie said. “So it’s settled. To counter Demus’ rash decision to expose part of his life to our Supreme Liaison, we’ll all arrange for our valuable time to be spent with her in a personal capacity. Amanda will spend every Sunday for the next three weeks with each one of us.” She held her head up high. “I’ll be first. This coming Sunday. Then, Justica. Then, Regi.”

  “I like it,” Regi said with a grin.

  Demus merely scowled.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Indie, wearing a stunning floral patterned dress and sporting a cream-colored leather handbag and ivory white pumps, appeared in front of Amanda in the lobby of the Liberators’ Headquarters.

  “You’re exactly on time,” Amanda said, quite impressed.

  “Of course. Are you ready?”

  They both disappeared, and when Amanda blinked her eyes, she was standing in the midst of a scene very familiar to her. Hundreds of people, of all ages, wearing shorts, sunhats or baseball caps, some pushing strollers, milled about. Her eyes settled on the attractions next to her.

  “It’s Fantasyland!” Amanda yelled, cheerfully.

  “You are correct.”

  “In Walt Disney World.”

  “Yes,” Indie began. “I grew up in Orlando, just minutes away from Walt Disney World.”

  Amanda gazed around, feeling bubbly and at ease. At least it wasn’t a scene that inspired the same trepidation she had faced with Demus. She noticed the now-aged style of the clothing and hairstyles of the people around them.

  “Let me guess,” Amanda said, “We’re back in your past.”

  Indie smiled. “That’s right.”

  “And these people can’t see us.”

  “No.” As if to prove that point, a harried mother with a screaming baby in her stroller passed right through Amanda, as if she were a ghost.

  Amanda was puzzled. “Why Walt Disney World?”

  Indie tugged at her hand to guide her. “This way.” Not bothering to maneuver her way around the crowd, instead walking directly through the crowd as if the scene was a hologram, Indie stopped just before Peter Pan and Tinkerbell were entertaining the crowd in front of an impeccable garden.

  A ten-year-old girl, with brown bangs, grinning from ear to ear, was posing in between the two characters while her proud parents snapped photos.

  Amanda did a double-take when she saw the little girl’s face. She glanced quickly at Indie.

  “You?“

  Indie nodded, but Amanda noticed she didn’t seem too happy.

  Why? This was such a happy place. The young Indie seemed to savor the attention.

  Indie intently studied the scene. She tapped Amanda on the shoulder, and whispered, “Look closely.”

  As Amanda gazed on, the younger Indie was about to walk back to her parents, but instead turned around and laughed and waved at the two Disney characters. They waved back with the exaggerated movements so common to costumed mascots. Laughing some more, the younger Indie wiggled her fingers, reaching out to them. Some in the crowd gasped – the exclamations became muted among the chatter of the crowd – when flashes and sparks began emitting in the air around Tinkerbell, just like in the movies.

  The costumed Peter Pan appeared puzzled by the reaction of several people staring astounded at Tinkerbell. He stepped away seemingly dumbfounded. He backed away promptly, while the costumed Tinkerbell seemed to gasp and look all around herself. As soon as she saw the luminescent halo about her, she darted a few feet in the other direction, then stumbled and fell.

  The younger Indie was thrilled. She guffawed and pointed towards Peter Pan.

  Suddenly, Peter Pan hovered in the air. In great shock, he bent toward the ground, apparently having trouble focusing through his giant fabricated head. His feet kicked furiously, unable to believe that they were suspended into thin air. Then, just as dramatically, he flew in small circles in the air, not more than fifteen feet off the ground. Tinkerbell, who was still lying on the ground, looked up at her storied companion in disbelief.

  Young Indie cheered and clapped, while her startled parents grabbed her by her collar from behind and tugged at her. Peter Pan suddenly dropped from the sky and fell into the bushes a few feet from Tinkerbell. He rebounded quickly, showing that he was unharmed. But the dazed crowd now converged onto the scene, demanding answers.

  From a safe distance away, Amanda covered her mouth. Not as shocking as Demus’ flashback. But very, very revealing and so… public. In a very different way, she again felt horrified.

  As Amanda looked on, the younger Indie’s parents dragged her off, in a hurry to exit the theme park. Pandemonium ensued throughout. She felt a tug at her shirt sleeve, and looked at the present-day Indie, who nodded knowingly. “Come on.”

  The Disney scene vanished and immediately, Amanda heard loud shouting.

  “You’re not human!!!“

  The father towered over his daughter, his face red. He pointed a thick finger at her.

  The younger Indie cried and cried. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She gasped for breath, nearly hyperventilating. Then, she ran to her mother, who angrily pushed her off. Not expecting the shove-off at all, the younger Indie lost her balance and fell, almost knocking aside a coffee table. Her eyes round in terror, the younger Indie wailed even more.

  Shaken, Amanda examined the surroundings. They were in a living room in a middle class home, with furniture that looked brand new, but obviously had a style dated from decades ago.

  “We should go to the police,” her mother said, shaking. She was hugging herself, greatly distressed.

  “And what’d the police do with her?” Indie’s father demanded, still shouting.

  “Take her away,” her mother answered, unbelieving of her own voice. “We can’t have evil in our family.”

  A younger daughter entered the scene from the kitchen, sobbing. “No, no, don’t take Hannah away!” She bent over and lay on the carpet beside Indie, hugging her.

  Enraged, the father bent over to tear his other daughter off “Hannah.” The younger sister hit away at her father, to no avail. The ruckus was deafening. Amanda was visibly upset by the scene. It was so different from Demus’ life. With him, she couldn’t sympathize with the underworld currents that enveloped his younger life. However, here, it hit too close to home. Amanda couldn’t stop herself from weeping.

  The present-day Indie nodded at her. Zapping up tissues in her hand, she offered some to Amanda. She gratefully took one and dabbed at her eyes.

  An older boy of about thirteen, bounded down the stairs. “Enough!” he cried out, and started punching at his father. “I don’t care if she’s a witch. She’s our sister!”

  “Back off, Ben!” the older man threatened, deflecting his blows with difficulty. He pushed Ben aside, with Ben losing his balance and landing halfway across the sofa. Ben panted and gazed at his father with hatred, not knowing what to do next.

  “Get her in the car!” her father said as he pulled up the younger Indie, shoving her toward his wife. “Get her out of the house!”


  His wife, initially disbelieving she’d been confronted with such a physical role, grabbed “Hannah” and dragged her cursed daughter away. The two siblings bawled, sending up a ruckus that hurt Amanda’s ears and broke her heart.

  She turned her head away. “I can’t bear this any longer.”

  “I’ll pause the scene then,” Indie said gently. Suddenly, silence fell and all the struggling, brawling characters froze in motion. “It’s important you see every moment of this, as I assume Demus did with you. At least you never had to experience anything like this.”

  “My God,” Amanda shook her head, “I didn’t realize wizards had it so hard.”

  “We aren’t that different from you in that respect,” Indie said.

  “This is so horrible,” Amanda said, shaking her head.

  “Now you see why wizards must be kept separate from Mortals,” Indie said. “You understand now. We have magic, but we cannot live among humans.”

  “How do people become wizards?” Amanda blurted out.

  “I’m not going to answer any further questions concerning the wizards,” Indie gently affirmed. “I’m only demonstrating what happened to me.”

  Amanda shook her head. “Start the scene again.” She braced herself.

  The next few moments of the scene at the younger Indie’s house weren’t much better. With much struggling, her mother had pushed “Hannah” into the family car, while her father fought off her brother and sister. Amanda and the present-day Indie followed them out of the house, passing through the front door like ghosts. Her father sat in the back seat with her, firmly holding on to “Hannah” like a rag doll.

  Frantic, his wife reversed the car down the driveway quickly. Ben ran out of the house and flung himself onto the hood of the car. Staring into his mother’s terrified eyes, he pounded the windshield, possessing anger she had never seen before. His mother nervously navigated the car, with many sudden spurts and stops. His eyes filled with fear at the prospect of being dumped onto the asphalt by the motions of the car, Ben finally scrambled off the windshield. The vehicle sped out onto the open road, away from Indie’s old neighborhood.