I Win

by Paul Mannering 11/00


The warehouse glowed with a blueish tint in the corona of the cityscape still visible through its ten thousand shattered windows.
Antonio adjusted his nonchalant pose, making himself more comfortable against the thick concrete pillar while making his profile more striking in the shaft of neon light beaming in from across the street. Cigarette butts flowered around his feet, he tossed another down amongst them and with a dismissive gesture sent them all swirling away across the rubbish strewn concrete floor.

"Still smoking brother?" The voice echoed through the vast dark space was cultured, masculine and pitched to carry with out being a shout.

Antonio straightened away from the concrete, and caught a new filter tip between his thin lips, the tip flared at a touch and he sucked the white smoke deep into his chest.

"Sabato," he acknowledged the voice with a long slow exhalation of relief. "You are the second then,"

"And I will be the last," Sabato’s voice predicted coldly from the shadows.

"Show yourself then, let us begin," Antonio idly flicked his glowing Lucky Strike away into the rubble.

"Patience brother. We await the third." Sabato’s voice had moved. Antonio turned slowly tracking his brother with all of his many senses.
Sabato let himself become part of the wall, slid into it leaving his face exposed so that he could still sense his environment, but reducing the risk of being spotted before he was ready.

Antonio had gained weight since they last met, his vanity still showed in his manicured hands, the styled trim to his beard and the long blonde ponytail of his hair, held in place with a thin leather cord. But his flesh had filled out somewhat in the last 7 years.
All this told Sabato more than he could have learned from asking direct questions of his birth mate. Sabato now knew that in 7 years Antonio had consolidated his position within the Mages – and had devoted himself totally to the esoteric arts, leaving the study of the physical arts to other caste members.

"Do you know who the third is?" Antonio’s voice was calm and relaxed, bordering on the conversational.

"Yes," said Sabato. In truth he had no idea, but he was not going to admit that to anyone, especially Antonio.

"Oh good, then I won’t need to enlighten you," Antonio replied smoothly. Sabato smiled tightly, Antonio’s research into the matter had been just as inconclusive then.

At the other end of the desolate floor a door suddenly swung open. Antonio stopped and stared, Sabato froze in his path along the wall surface and also stared into the dark doorway.

"My brothers," Scalia stepped lightly into the room and curtsied his welcome. His features were highlighted with make up and his manner was graceful and feminine. The image ended at his wrists. Scalia’s hands were thick and callused from hours of weapons handling, a strangely disconcerting feature against the hot pink nail polish carefully applied to each tapering fingernail.

"Scalia," Antonio said, and bowed with exaggerated courtesy.

Sabato remained silent. Tradition said that once every cycle the three heads of each house of the trinity would come together in terminal combat. The survivor would lead the three houses as one through the next thousand years. This was the first time in the histories that three birth mates had faced off against each other. Sabato wondered what this would mean for the future of everything.

"Antonio, and where is Sabato? Skulking in shadows again?" Scalia’s voice had the pitch of a castrato and a pleasant musical lilt to it. "Come out Sabato! I want to kill you!"

With a slithering hiss Scalia drew a long narrow bladed sword from a scabbard on his back. It shimmered in the dark air, the highly polished blade creating a sparkling display as Scalia twirled it in a rapid dance that brought him and his ready blade into the centre of the chosen place.
Sabato stepped away from the wall and took his position at an angle and distance from Scalia. Antonio also took his place, completing the triangle and accepting the challenge.

Traditionally battle commenced with the exchange of choice words, the idea being to gall one of the opponents into losing his self control, attacking in anger and thus making him vulnerable to all manner of counter attacks.

"Sabato," Antonio said suddenly, his eyes fixed on Scalia’s shining blade. "How is your wife?"

Sabato’s face remained frozen while inwardly he wept with relief. "According to the latest reports from my spies within your citadel, she is in good health Antonio."

Antonio glanced at his brother, his face also did not change but that look was enough. Sabato did not need to attempt to crash through the mage’s shielded mind to read his thoughts. He knew now that Antonio was the one who had kidnapped his wife and was holding her within his citadel outside this dimension. At least she was being well treated.
Scalia the only true warrior amongst them chose this moment to strike at Antonio. Without cry or warning he swung at his brother with a long cutting stroke.
Antonio threw himself aside, landing heavily as the blade swung through its arc and returned to a ready position.
Sabato had instantly made his decision and as Scalia struck at Antonio, Sabato struck at Scalia.
The roundhouse kick was deflected by Scalia’s sword as it neared the terminus of its strike, neatly slicing the tip off Sabato’s boot but leaving his flesh untouched.

"I wondered if your first strike would be Magic or Martial in execution Sabato, I am prepared to defeat you in either instance."

"It is the one advantage he has, skilled in both arms and magic," Antonio said as he clambered to his feet, teeth bared in a hateful grin.

"But in neither case is he our master Antonio," Scalia spoke casually but his eyes were gauging Sabato carefully.

"Antonio has kidnapped your wife brother, kill him and then let us complete this debate in honourable combat." Scalia spoke as he moved to defend against attack from either direction.

"Kill Scalia, then let us discuss the terms of your Lela’s ransom," Antonio countered.

Sabato remained silent, moving the energies around him with his mind.

The tension grew in the room, no one moved until Sabato raised his fists and flicked his fingers open sending thick tendrils of white netting exploding out over the others.
Scalia leapt high and somersaulted over the sticky web, Antonio flared with a blue flame that flickered green and gave off a pungent smoke as it tasted Sabato’s spell and then devoured it.
Scalia attacked from behind his sword sweeping at Sabato, who managed to twist away, striking at Scalia’s arms and finally thrusting him back with a straight kick to the chest.

Antonio cleared the remains of the web from his suit and formed a sphere of smoke in his palm. With a sweeping motion he sent it spinning across the room until a harsh shout caused it to shatter close to his brothers.

Sabato and Scalia both leapt high, Scalia’s sword returning to its scabbard while he rose. Both caught a pipe on the ceiling in a one handed grip, and each reached for his brother’s throat with his free hand. Below them a stinking fog of green gas soaked into the floor leaving a wet green veneer and a fresh rat corpse in its wake.

Sabato focused his mental strength into increasing the strength of his grip on Scalia’s windpipe, Scalia promptly turned purple and his eyes bulged even as the bones of Sabato’s hand creaked under the unnatural pressure.
With consciousness fading Scalia removed his awareness from the pain and burning in his throat and focused on swinging his legs high. He succeeded in swinging up and locking his legs around his brother’s waist. Then he loosened his grip on Sabato’s throat and let go of the pipe.
The sudden weight on his hand pulled Sabato loose from the pipe and still locked together they fell the 15 feet to the floor.
Scalia landed in a twisted heap with Sabato on top of him Scalia’s face pressed into the gas residue and he screamed in sudden agony.
With strength lent by pain Scalia twisted and jerked, throwing Sabato from him and rolling to his feet, a hand clutching at his face which smoked and sizzled.

Sabato formed a new spell but Scalia shrieked again and ran towards the doorway at the far end of the room, shrieking as he went through it and disappeared into the darkness beyond.

"If one of us dies before he returns, he forfeits." Antonio said matter of factly.

"Then he forfeits," Sabato said and bellowed a jet of flame at Antonio. The mage’s form blurred in fire as his suit, hair and skin caught fire.
Moments later the flames went out, leaving Antonio’s face blistered and seeping, his hair seared away and his clothes smouldering.

"Then he forfeits," Antonio echoed with a hiss and the windows behind Sabato exploded inward each shard flying towards the warrior-mage like a shimmering plague of crystal locusts.

Sabato spun about. "Shit," he muttered and vanished to reappear across the room as the glass shattered into the concrete where he had stood less than a second before.
Antonio pulled the air out from around Sabato, blinding him with dust and rubbish and buffeting winds as the atmosphere rushed to fill the gap. Sabato choked and gasped for air, and sent large masonry blocks tumbling from every corner towards his brother.

Each attack was countered, magic against magic, will against will, Antonio constantly moving away lest Sabato get close enough to strike with a hidden weapon or lethal kick.
Finally the two adversaries paused to assess the damage to themselves and each other. Both were bleeding from a multitude of small cuts and abrasions. As well as his burns Antonio’s left eye was swollen shut and one of his hands was crushed and twisted out of shape.
Sabato looked no better. His left ear was gone, scraped away by a flying brick
The rest of his face was deathly pale and a wound in his right chest whistled with each breath.

"If I die, your beloved Lela dies with me," Antonio whispered from the blistered remains of his face.

"When you die you die as you lived. Wretched and alone." Sabato spat a wad of frothy blood the taste of it thick in the back of his throat.

Scalia suddenly appeared through the doorway, his sword held high, running pell mell at his two enemies. "You baaaaastaaaaaaards! Look what you did to my faaaaaaaace!!!"

One side of the warrior’s face had been eaten away leaving grey, dead-looking bone and an eye teetering on the brink of its socket.

Antonio and Sabato both raised their hands and bolts of energy blasted Scalia into lumps of steaming meat.

"Where were we," Antonio said calmly turning back towards Sabato.

"We were discussing your wretched death," Sabato replied coolly.

"Yes…If I die, your wife dies, I believe was what I said," Antonio replied his gaze locking with Sabato’s.

"Taking hostages within the seven years of reformation is a breach of the law brother,"

"Yes, but if I win no one will ever know, and if I die… Well I am sure I will be very sorry." Antonio’s face showed no humour.

"It is still a breach of the law, and without law there is a return to chaos."

"The law has not been tested in one thousand years and therefore it should be applied creatively!" Antonio raised his arms in exclamation, Sabato tensed ready for an attack but none came. "For research purposes only you understand," Antonio concluded.

"You broke the law Antonio, what kind of guide for the next cycle would you be? Instead of enlightenment and the progression of man in all aspects of spirit and technology you would create a world of disillusionment and corruption." Sabato spat blood and wheezed wetly from the exertion of his hate.

Antonio sneered at his brother. "She came to me of her own free will, Sabato. She came to my citadel and entered my bedchamber. Her mind was free of all enchantment other than her own desires."

"NO!" Blood sprayed from Sabato’s mouth as he roared his denial. "She would not have gone to you. She has seen your corrupt heart and turned away. You have taken her and now keep her against her will."

"You could not know I had taken her." Antonio’s open eye blazed in fury. "You could not know."

"Of course I did not know," Sabato was suddenly feeling very tired. He was no longer sure how long he could keep this up. "It had to be one of the other Masters. But I did not know who you were."

"As I did not know you had risen to the rank of Master of the Warrior Mages. As neither of us could have known that our fawning queen of a brother had become First Swordsman of the Warrior’s house. As none but those within could know what was going on in each house for the last seven years. When Tri-Lord McCauley died each house shut itself off in its own Dimension Space as The Law commands. Each house fought the first war within their own ranks, away from Earth in secret, until one of their number was hailed as the undisputed Master of the House. Then at the end of seven years the new masters come together, the identity of each unknown until the time of The Determining, the terminating fight in the war. The sole survivor of the three will lead the three houses through the next millennium cycle. Changing for-"

"Antonio, are you going to fight or talk me to death?" Sabato had used the time granted by his brother’s dissertation to apply his energy to healing his more serious wounds. His chest now merely throbbed with a dull ache.

"I have fought you and already won Sabato." Antonio gestured with his hands and the complex spell hidden within his speech materialised around Sabato. A clear sphere solidified and sealed around the warrior mage, its interior a thick clear paste that thickened as Sabato thrashed against it.

Antonio sauntered to the sphere grinning madly at his brother’s struggles. "Sabato…. Oh Sabato… I know you can hear me. I have outsmarted you Sabato. Now your Lela will have to love me, because you my brother are dead!"

Antonio clapped his hands together in delight, which instantly turned to a groan of anguish as his shattered hand reverberated from the slap.

"Mother Fucker…" Antonio hissed in seething pain.

Within the sphere Sabato stilled his movements, he smiled inwardly as Antonio cradled his freshly disturbed hand. Antonio was right, he had been outsmarted and this fight was over. Antonio had won this round. He had been right about one thing though, Sabato mused as his consciousness faded. The law had not been challenged for one thousand years and it was long overdue for a test of its flexibility.

With a final outward breath Sabato released his control over the body and let his conscious spirit withdraw. The body grew cold and wooden sealed like a fly in an amber ball.
Across the street on the roof of the Heddler building in the deep shadows of the air conditioning units, a figure stirred as if waking from a deep sleep.

Sabato felt his consciousness return to his body as the golem in his own image died. Taking a deep breath of fresh air he lifted the high powered rifle and flicked on the laser targeting unit. As the master of the House of Warrior-Mages he was an expert in both weapons and magic. While he was not the equal of his brothers in either arms or magic his own abilities far exceeded any human’s.

Antonio’s burned head appeared in sharp focus as he gloated over the still form of the Golem of Sabato encased in his sphere.

The red dot of the laser targeter shone brightly on the back of the mage’s head.

"I win," Sabato whispered and squeezed the trigger.


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