“Bring me the Magisters.”
The walking armor buckled at its artificial knees to indicate it had registered the orders in its mechanical mind, and slowly turned around to the squeaking tune of its poorly oiled gears. The hulking automaton staggered out of the light of the fluorescent lamps into a dark portal in the wall that sucked it up. Ancaton paced for several minutes before the portal spat the armor back out. It walked with a rolling cage chained to its leg, and inside were two men. Their names were Lohz and Fiziat.
Ancaton removed his black cap to expose his angry bald head to the full measure of light needed for the Magisters to notice his displeasure. Ancaton had no body hair and resembled a shaved cat. He was dressed in a plain black tuxedo with an orange collar that contained his security permissions. Ancaton didn’t know which one he was looking at, so he thought it best to address them collectively.
“Lohz, Fiziat.”
The Magisters piled over themselves in a corner of the cage. Most of their bodies had been sealed up in an unbreakable black wrapping leaving only their ears exposed so they could be addressed. Ancaton removed his jacket.
“Are these the Magisters, feared and mighty?”
Ancaton removed the cufflinks off his left hand and rolled the sleeve up to his elbow. On his arm was a tattoo that traced a black grid of a thousand squares. He jabbed the air a few times and his muscles bulged comically. The tattoo lifted off the skin as his intention discharged out of his knuckles and the bonds on the prisoners dissolved away. The grid filled and reset itself on Ancaton’s arm, stinging like a motherfucker.
The Magisters yelled and barked and grabbed at themselves, grabbed at the bars, and suddenly became quiet. Lohz, the darker and taller, saw Ancaton and recognized him. Lohz had been the called the Lord of Awe and at the height of his power wore a golden crown that filled the crags of his wrinkled face with rivers of light that dripped into a long beard. As he passed his hand over his face he found nothing hinting as such features, only the smooth skin of youth.
“You—Jailer. Ancaton. An— ca—ton.”
The Magister said the syllables in a peculiar fashion, sending a chill down Ancaton’s spine. They had no power here and had been reduced to immature bodies. He knew this, and still he was afraid.
“Silence! or I bind you once more!”
The Magister recoiled at the sight of Ancaton raising his arm. Fiziat, shorter and paler, had taken repose at the back of the cage. He merely brushed his long purple hair out of his face and nodded towards Ancaton with a smirk. The Lord of Majesty had been the one to remove all of Ancaton’s hair with his last act of power.
“I have not forgotten your slights and crimes.”
“Then tell us, Ancaton of the Black Arm, just what the fuck are you doing here?”
Fiziat asked his question and was suddenly shocked as he noticed his hands.
“I require your power.”
Lohz began laughing. “Clearly not, else you would not have reduced us so.”
Ancaton opened the cage to the complete and utter shock of the prisoners. “You should come with me,” he said turning his back to them.
Lohz looked at Fiziat with an is this nigga serious? Fiziat simply watched Ancaton walk out the room and crept out of the cage as soon as their captor had left.
“Fiziat.”
“Hmm?”
“We’re naked.”
Lohz stood up next to Fiziat, naked as twin brothers.
“So we are.”