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Playtime - Chapter 7
🕑 Added 2020-10-02 09:06:04 +0000 UTCZoe is brought to the authorities to answer for her crimes against humanity
A throbbing pain pulsed hard in Zoe's head when she peeled her eyes open. A bright ray of daylight, flashing his way through a half-veiled window, stung deeply in the back of her skull when it made its entrance through the lens of her eyes.
Her first physical response was to bring her hand to her forehead.
"The hell?" Zoe said when some invisible force prevented her hand to make the journey to her face. It felt like some unseen string held her arm captivated, with its force pulling stronger the harder she yanked.
Zoe's other arm was also bound and her feet too. She mustered all of her mental focus to forge some sort of counterspell, an enchantment that would be able to dispel this magical bondage. It was no use. She was still weakened. Whoever conjured this sorcerous prison is someone with an extraordinarily high degree in the art of wizardry.
Zoe suddenly realized that she was lying on some plateau in a dim, cold room with no furniture or decoration whatsoever. Next to her underwear, she was naked.
Gazing down her own scrawny body, Zoe's eyes churned into deep rue, like a class full of tears were waiting in line to seep out and roll along her cheeks.
There wasn't even the slightest remnant left of her pristine heavenly body. Zoe was so close to evolving into the Ultimate Goddess. Her brain was already firing on full cylinders concocting plans for the universe. HER universe. There were innumerable planets with countless civilizations who were still unaware of her existence. Many of them worshiped Imna, the Goddess of Light. Zoe was about to change that all.
Her attention was drawn towards her chest whereby she flinched by the sight of a hideous looking fresh scar, plastered right below her left breast.
Faint fragments shot by in her head from her attack on planet earth, Alzador's stern countenance, and the touch of her mother's cold hands when she planted the knife in her chest. Based on the spot where Zoe's mother had stabbed her, it was quite miraculously that she was still here, alive and kicking.
Zoe clenched her fists and sank its nails in her skin.
For five fuckin years, I've been loyally sitting through this Imna gibberish, and this is my reward?
She tweaked her head to the side as some object clattered on the stone floor. Zoe's gaze met with the shamefaced eyes of a middle-aged scrawny, short man with a deep sunken countenance. He was gaping at her like he was caught trying to steal. While in fact, he merely dropped his broom when he noticed her.
Zoe could tell by his ragged garments and the characteristic look of anxiety that this man belonged to the lowest class of society. This meant she had to be back in her realm again. They were called Thralls, a wretched race of humanoids, with no talent for sorcery or whatsoever, who were cursed to live among witches and wizards with frightful powers.
"You, thrall. Get in here!" Zoe commanded.
He merely gawked at her, indecisive, before he ran off, leaving his broom on the floor for what it was.
"No, wait. Waaaait! Goddamn dumb-wit!"
It was unprecedented for a mere thrall to disobey a direct order from a sorceress, especially a sorceress of Zoe's stature. This could mean only one thing; the man had to answer to an even higher authority.
Zoe had a pretty strong suspicion of who this authority could be and that his intention could only mean trouble for her.
That meant time was running against her. She had to find a way to get out of here – and fast.
Zoe leaped up when five Dark Enforcers materialized out of thin air, encircling the plateau where she was lying on. Merely their lambent red eyes were visible under the shroud of their hoods. Their rough breathings reminded Zoe of the final days of her grandpa when he was fighting against some terminal disease.
"Really? Just five of you?" Zoe chuckled. She felt a bit disappointed. Do these glorified gabby's think that low of me?
Zoe defiantly eyed them as she contemplated her next move.
Her first response was to flick her wrist and hand out a destruction spell to take them out all at once.
This should be a walk in the park, right?
After all, she did silence three of them, single-handedly. Would she be able to do it again? She had serious doubts about it. She was practically a demi-goddess at that moment, with all the powers of the universe surging within the tips of her fingers.
Now, however, she was just a mere mortal, weakened, and still restorative from a wound that should have killed her.
Zoe was already being blasted from all sides long before her brain was even able to choose a proper strategy. Five hands were raised, with an open palm, aimed at her as they unleashed nothing but hellish pain for an already significantly attenuated Zoe.
She heard her shrill scream, nearly splitting her eardrums, right before her consciousness faded out like a pitiful flame from a worn out match stick.
Peeling her eyes open, with a groaning headache agonizing the inside of her skull, Zoe did not know how long she had been away. She did know where she was, though.
Chamber of the High Council.
Sitting bound in a chair, Zoe was greeted by a row of dusty old men and women, all with a deep look of disdain shining through their haughty crinkled old eyes. In the middle sat a stately man with broad shoulders, a curved nose like a hawk, and a long pointy salt and pepper beard looking at her with eyes that wished nothing less than her demise.
Onexius.
Next to him sat a familiar face, a friendly face with thick bushy eyebrows, who was not looking so friendly at the moment.
Alzador
Onexius cleared his throat before his low earnest voice started to reverberate through the circular chamber. "Zoe Cordelia Krestel, every word of formality is a word of waste, in my opinion, don't you agree?"
"I would say you've just sentenced eighteen words to the trashcan then," Zoe replied, granting a sly smirk and a wink aimed at Alzador.
"Let us skip the introductions then and proceed to our true purpose of this meeting," Onexius said. "The sooner this unfortunate matter is behind us, the better."
"That's another thing we agree on, Old pop." Zoe said. She clasped her hands in front of her mouth and looked all guilt-ridden, "Nah, I'm kidding, I don't feel sorry at all. Please, continue."
Onexius gave Zoe an inscrutable look before he proceeded, "Do you plead guilty for your troubling interference in the realm of the humans? And confess that you've made disproportionate misuse of magic to spread havoc and destruction upon a helpless specie?"
Zoe placed her finger on her lips like she was thinking deeply, "Can I also plead guilt for just a part of that accusation?"
"Do you plead or not?" Onexius raised his voice in an irritated tone.
"I do plead… partly. Not all." Zoe said.
Onexius sighed, "Well, miss Zoe, please, enlighten us then."
"Thank you," Zoe said. "I have a question first. Can you define the term 'disproportionate misuse' for me, please?"
"For what purpose?" Onexius replied.
"You want me to plead guilty, right? I have the right to know the exact definition of─"
"Enough!" Alzador stood up, fire burning in his eyes. "You know exactly what you've done, Zoe. You've brought death and destruction upon thousands of earthlings without any sense of remorse whatsoever. You murdered them, abducted them, even annihilated whole cities just for the fun of it!"
"And you loved every moment of it, didn't you old man?" Zoe responded. "Just like that day below the cobblestone bridge." She laughed when she saw all the other wizards and sorceresses looking at Alzador with a puzzled look.
"What is this girl talking about, Alzador?" One of the sorceresses asked.
"Oh, he hasn't told it yet?" Zoe answered before Alzador could. "you know, Alzador here is just really fond of me. And he loves power, lots of power, especially when its wielded by a cute young girl like myself. That's why he saved my life, didn't you?"
