Bewitching Boston 2 of 3

Reads: 230  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
Cozzas and Stephen recruit the help of Stephen's brother, Geoffrey to help then track down the witches meeting tonight.

Submitted: January 20, 2014

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 20, 2014



mplating what action to take next. He knows that taking down a council of witches is difficult but with an inexperienced agent and him being the only wizard between the two of them its impossible. He sighs, acknowledging the fact that they are going to need help. The only help around however, is Stephen's family, specifically his older brother: Geoffrey.


Cozzas looks over at Stephen as they drive into an expensive looking part of Boston, puzzled. Large houses line either side of the road with large, well-kept yards in between. Stephen is scanning the houses, trying to remember his brother’s address.

"Um Stephen," Cozzas begins to ask. "What exactly are we doing here?" Cozzas looks around the windows again, feeling peering eyes look at the car from windows.

"We're getting help," Stephen says. "My older brother lives around here. He's not a necromancer like me but he is still an amazing wizard. He has a natural skill for summoning. He displays them at his orgies." Cozzas produces a puzzled look but then dismisses the thought from his mind.

"Do you have any other siblings?" He asks, trying to make casual conversation as Stephen scans for his brother's house. "How many are wizards?"

"I'm 2 of 7," Stephen begins, explaining his family tree. "My older brother Geoffrey is who we're looking for. He’s a summoner. My brother Andrew is after me and he is a warder. Then my sister Annabelle, the invoker. That girl would bathe in fire if she could. My sister Marguerite is a diviner. What useless magic it is. Francis is an alchemist, the only non-wizard. My youngest sister, Samantha, is an illusionist." The word illusionist comes from his tongue like a swear word would from an elderly woman,chastising her grandchildren for using it. Stephen despised illusions but not his sister.

His head perks up suddenly, seeing his brother’s mansion. One of the largest house on the street, his brother’s house was a bright white, trimmed with black gates and shutters, red curtains covering every window on the inside. His lawn was well kept and had beautiful statues of animals spread throughout it. Birds of all shapes and sizes flew in and out of the birdhouse stands he had in his yard as well. Dogs and cats ran about the grass playfully.

Stephen drives up the smoothly paved driveway that turns into a circle in front of the doorway to the massive home of his brother.  He stops and parks the car. With a sigh he exits with Cozzas behind him as he goes up to the door. He grabs the large door knocker and slams it on the door three times.


The door opens and a man stands before Cozzas and Stephen. He is dressed in black slacks and a white button down shirt with an ice blue tie overtop. His shoes are a shiny black leather, matching the hair he has pulled back in a ponytail behind his head. His eyes are an emerald green, contrasting his face. The man is just as pale as Stephen and if one were to touch it, it would be as cold as ice: a trait of his family’s lineage.

“Stephen,” Geoffrey questions, confused and delighted at his brother’s presence. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” A slight smile comes across his face that looks out of place.

“I need to ask a favor,” Stephen asks. His brother nods and then steps back, motioning them inside.

As Cozzas and Stephen enter the house, they find it to be full of paintings of wild and exotic creatures, some mythical and some not. Assorted pictures of unicorns and dragons and dogs and lions, all well painted, hang on the walls. A raven swoops down from the balcony overhead and lands on Geoffrey’s shoulder. He pets its head and then sits on a large white couch. He points at one across the room and nods.

“Please take a seat,” Geoffrey exclaims politely. “May I offer the two of you something to drink?” Geoffrey asks politely to his brother and his acquaintance.

“Any of dad’s scotch?” Stephen questions. Geoffrey nods and then looks at Cozzas.

“Do you have any coke?” Cozzas asks, trying to be polite. Geoffrey once again nods. He looks to the raven on his shoulder. It erupts into flight and flies off into the other room towards the kitchen.

“Now,” Geoffrey says, looking to his brother. “What is it that you need Stephen?” Stephen leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looks at his older brother. A dog enters the living room with a tray on his back two short glasses of scotch and a glass of coke resting on it. The men take their drinks and each take a sip.

“Yesterday we encountered an Imp on a street,” Stephen begins. Geoffrey’s face remains solid. An imp wandering the streets disguised as a cat or bat is common, especially in Boston. “He said something about a witch council meeting. We were sent to seek out magical disturbances happening recently.

“If the imp is right,” Stephen continues. “The meeting must be soon. We need your help finding it and killing or capturing the witches.” Geoffrey nods slowly, taking in the information.

“Why not get back from the warriors of mankind?” Geoffrey asks, prying at his brother’s intentions. “Why come to me and not Annabelle?”

“People are hard to coordinate and control,” Stephen replies. “Your creatures are under your utter control. Annabelle is reckless and I have a good reputation as not causing collateral damage. That phrase is completely unknown to her.” Geoffrey cocks his head to the side and nods in agreement at Stephen’s argument. He looks down and thinks, contemplating his brother’s request.

“I do owe you a favor,” Geoffrey says, picking his head up and looking at his brother. “Seeing as you took the commitment so I did not have to, it only seems fitting that I help you with it. And how could I ever give up the chance to test my best creatures against the power of witches? What supplies and reagents do you need?” Stephen thinks for a moment and then looks over at Cozzas.

“We need to find you a weapon of some sort.” Stephen says, thinking of possibilities.

“Well that’s simple,” Geoffrey says. “I have a small collection of magic weapons he can choose from. What’s his fancy? Or is he a firearms man?” Stephen snickers and looks back at Geoffrey.

“No magic items,” Stephen says, contemplating telling his brother about Cozzas’ true nature. Possible outcomes flood his head but none end in a negative manner, only hours of explanation and argue. “Cozzas is an Impervium.” Geoffrey’s eyes grow wide and he raises his eyebrows.

“Are you serious?” Geoffrey asks, perplexed by the notion of an Impervium existing and now sitting in his living room. Stephen nods and looks at Cozzas.

“Should I show him?” the young Cozzas asks, confused as to what Geoffrey’s reaction will be. Stephen nods and stands, removing his glove. Cozzas nods as well and sighs.

Stephen raises his hand at Cozzas and activates the rune on his hand. A burst of red energy shoots out towards Cozzas. It strikes him but dissipates immediately in an explosion of blue sparks. Geoffrey’s face remains amazed at what has just been demonstrated before him. A small smile grows across his face and he chuckles.

“Well,” Geoffrey stands, trying to resolve their problem in his head. “We’ll get him a very well made weapon then. Sword? Axe? Pistol?” Geoffrey asks the man who simply shrugs, unsure of if he can use any sort of weapon. “We’ll try them all then.” Geoffrey says, getting a nod from his brother and a look of confusion from Cozzas.

The three men venture to Geoffrey’s basement where he keeps his study. As Cozzas enters the unfamiliar room, he is overwhelmed, just as he was when first entering the W.O.M.’s base in Manhattan.

Odd creatures sit in cages around the room, all labeled with sheets of paper with a highlighted word or series of words at the top. Books litter a multitude of desks and bookshelves, with the latter being only slightly more organized to Cozzas’ eye. In a far corner of a room lays a large wooden chest like that from a pirate movie. It is accented with an intricate golden trim and runes carved into the wood. On the front of it lays a simple iron key-lock whose dull, dark stone gray contrasts greatly with the rest of the chest and general atmosphere of the room.

It is this chest that is the center of Geoffrey’s attention when they enter the room, ignoring the caged creatures that make an assortment of noises when he enters. Stephen follows his brother, undisturbed by the creatures Cozzas finds odd but are normal to the two brothers. Slowly, partially distracted by the creatures, the young man follows the two wizards to the chest.

Geoffrey removes a necklace from around his neck, on the end of the silver chain is an old iron key, untouched by time. The wizard takes the key and inserts it into the lock, turning it slowly. The lock clicks undone and he removes it. Geoffrey pulls the top of the chest up, opening it and revealing a multitude of weapons, charms and assorted magical treasure, the magical energies almost overwhelming to Stephen who gawks at his brother’s cache of items.

“When did you get all this?” Stephen asks, turning to his brother and raising an eyebrow. His brother simply smiles and shrugs. Stephen chuckles and they look at the young man’s face. He stares blankly at the treasure, unsure of what he is looking at.

Geoffrey reaches into the chest and withdraws an Elven longsword, made with a slightly curved blade and rather delicate looking. It’s silver blade glints in the candle light. He hands it to Cozzas who takes it by its handle and holds it awkwardly. With an exchange of looks between the brothers, Geoffrey takes the weapon from his hand and places it back in the chest. Stephen peers in and withdraws the bow of a Satyr, crafted of Blackwood and accented with green metal in the shape of vines. Cozzas takes it in his hand again but holds it awkwardly.

The wizards exchange looks again and sigh. Stephen takes the weapon from the human’s hand and places it back in the chest. The three man stand silent for a moment as the wizards think, peering into the chest, searching for the weapon for their friend.

What kind of weapon could fit him?  Stephen thinks to himself. Cozzas is an Impervium. Legends talk of them wearing broad armor and carrying greatswords into battle on horseback. Cozzas could not wield such a behemoth of a weapon. He is not superior to your average man in strength or speed. He is not dexterous enough to use a bow and is not clever enough to make use of a small weapon in a large battle. He is simple and requires something fitting of his personality, but what is a simple but effective weapon? Stephen’s thought is stopped and his question answered as he sees the simplest but highly effective weapon is history. It is a weapon of battle and of craft, known to be quick but powerful, used with grace and raw strength: a hammer.

Stephen picks up the light hammer, the head a little larger than a drywall hammer with a handle over a foot and a half long with a rounded handle big enough to fit a large dwarf’s hand around. It is a single solid piece of steel of dwarven quality and design: the best crafters of hammers. On the head, one end is a flat blunt end, used to crush light armor and break bones. The other end of the head is a spike, used to puncture armor such as chainmail and pierce the heads of unarmored opponents. Stephen smirks and turns around, handing it to Cozzas.

Cozzas takes the hammer in his right hand and grasps it tightly. He takes a step back and swings it as he was hitting something with the bludgeoning end of the hammer. The well weighted hammer moves with speed but the wizards see the power behind his swing, it’s use being almost natural to the teen. Exchanging a look and a smile, the brothers nod and look back at Cozzas who swings the hammer many times, feeling it’s weight and balance in his hand.

“I like it,” Cozzas says searching his body for a place to put it, then noticing the small ring that dangles from the bottom of it. “What’s this for?” He asks the wizards who he hopes knows more of weapons than he does.

“To hang from your belt or equipment,” Stephen replies. “It’s common with dwarven hammers. It clips like a carabineer would to your belt or keys.” Cozzas nods and attaches the hammer via the hook to his right belt loop. Satisfied, the wizards and the man make their way upstairs after Stephen and Geoffrey gather an assortment of vials of different liquids, books and small leather pouches into a large sack that Geoffrey puts on like a satchel, hanging on his left side.

“We shall search for the witches tonight as the sun comes down.” Geoffrey says. Stephen nods in agreement and the three men wait for dark to fall….

© Copyright 2019 Daemon Micks. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments: