What If ((Drabble))

((This is based on a story from a few years ago in which a few of our characters were taken by the Burning Legion.   Instead of being rescued, as they were, what if our characters were turned.

This is just a drabble and I don’t intend to continue it, but it was fun to write!))



Her hoof steps echoed loudly against the darkened walls of the museum.   The sound only paused as she stopped to study an art exhibit.   Thunder rumbled in the distance which was barely heard over the building’s ventilation system.  Cool dry air issued from the vents, providing a comfortable experience for the people who normally would have visited.   At this hour, most of the building’s lights were turned off or dimmed.

Dangling by a few wires from a nearby wall, pieces of a now silent security system siren sparked and smoldered.  Others could be heard throughout the museum, but they were distant and hardly a distraction.   Regardless, it wouldn’t take long for local law enforcement to find their way here.   She was expecting it.    

She looked at the art piece before her in wonder.   Like most exhibits featured in this section, this was a large glass disk.  Different levels of the circles had been blown in various colors and widths.  And upon closer observation she noted the runes that had been painstakingly etched into each tube that encircled the disk.   Flashes of purple arcane sprites traveled along the labyrinthine network of tubes in blinding speed making the entire circuit seem like it was glowing.

It was cyclic.  The sprites never stopped racing along the tubes.  A fascinating, beautiful display of a perpetual motion that should be impossible.  It smacked in the face of physics, although that wasn’t unusual when it came to magics.   But in this case, the magic was fully stable.  It wasn’t building up or dying off.

True balance.   She didn’t think such a thing was possible, especially with magics.

A three dimensional arcane glyph.   Her eyes flashed at the possibilities.   Near limitless, controlled arcane energy.
 
Flashing white strobe lights began flaring through the large windows.  She made sure to calmly avert her gaze as vehicles screeched to a stop just outside of the museum’s parking lot.

She looked back at the circular glass exhibit and her eyes focused on the reflection.   A lanky figure stared back.  Her bluish gray hair reached to mid back and down curled horns that angled from the sides of her head.   Her skin was the bluish tone she was born with, but her eyes radiated a tinge of green that even after a year she found hard to look at for too long.

The reddish silk dress she wore was modest and ornate as a person of her station required.   Her right hand was fidgeting with a bracelet that encircled her left arm.

The rapid unlocking of the outside doors and the quick patter of feet upon the terrazzo floor signaled that her quiet time in this museum was coming to an end.   Taking a deep breath, Niashado stopped fidgeting with the bracelet and stilled her long tail.

The door to the exhibit hall slammed open and a dozen figures rushed with rifles leveled at her.   She calmly regarded them as they surrounded her.
The denizens of this world were quadrupeds, with four stalky legs and two arms.  Their torsos were also muscular with a squat head.  They were a head and half shorter than her, but much stronger built.   She was briefly reminded of centaurs.

Their black eyes were overly large in proportion to their heads, and they had short antennae that moved as if sensing the air.   She wondered what they were sensing.

The rifles they held appeared more mass produced than the ones from the worlds she was familiar with.   They were black and gray with sleek metal.  From within the weapons flickering purple light was seen.  Arcane rifles.  

Not everyone can wield arcane magic naturally, so this race figured out a way to bring the arcane for everyone to wield.   It was impressive.

Another figure trotted between the lines of armed personnel.  Unlike the black leather armor the police officers wore, he wore a fine suit.  While also of stocky build, he didn’t carry his weight like the more physically fit entourage that served as his protection.

“Good evening, President Chakony,” Niashado announced in a calm, non threatening voice.

“Why?  Why are you here?” Chakony demanded, pointing to the ceiling.   Through the skylight above them a Legion ship hovered ominously over the city.   Small jets, as the locals called them, swarmed around the Legion ship like songbirds pestering an undaunted raptor.    “We have done everything the Burning Legion has demanded.”

She studied the swarms and then returned her attention to the president and his entourage.  The jets may threaten but they won’t attack the Legion ship for the same reason no one here was going to harm her.  

“You have.  And we appreciate that,” Niashado explained with a small smile.  “However, due to situations beyond our, and your control, we need to amend the earlier agreement.”

“What?   Why?   We-we have done everything asked of us and now you want to invade us?” the president stuttered.

“This is not an invasion, President Chakony,” Niashado replied diplomatically and calmly.  “If it were an invasion there would be many, many more ships like the one above.   I am simply here to explain the changes we are making to our agreement.”

The president and police officer looked at each other in apprehension.  The worry in them was clear to see despite their alien appearance.   Niashado turned to look back at the exhibit she’d been studying earlier.   “Who made this?”

“W-what?” the president stuttered again.

“Who made this… art.  It is beautiful.  So simple it obfuscates a complexity not seen anywhere.”

She could hear the president shuffle his legs uncomfortably.  Finally, he cleared his throat.

“There’s a group of artisans in the north hemisphere that are known for creating arcane glassworks of this quality.   This exhibit is on loan from them, but if you, or anyone you know are interested, you can take it.  I am sure-“

“We are not interested in the exhibit.  However, we are very interested in the artists who created it.   We want two hundred of these skilled artisans to be brought to us along with your annual tribute of grain and raw adamantite ore.  We will take delivery at our usual time, which I believe is in two of your months.”

“I-I can’t just take them from their homes.  Will they ever return?   We revere these artists.  You ask too much!” he finally cried out. Niashado raised an eyebrow and looked down on the leader.

“They will be treated well, but they will never return home.  You may say, they are doing this for the… good of your world,” Niashado explained.  “Have we not been fair?   We have not invaded your world?  We demand resources, but not at the risk of starvation or overwork.”

“And yet you hold an invasion over us like a threat.”

“Because it is a threat,” Niashado explained, earnestly.  She kept her tone friendly, despite the darker tone their talk had turned.   “Because we can take what we want and the losses we will incur doing so will be negligible, but the losses you will face will be terminal.   Has the agreement we have signed not protected your heritage, art and way of life?”

President Chakony huffed in frustration, but his shoulders finally sagged in resignation.

“We will have what you have asked for at the time.   However, there’s a problem with the farms in the South Isles.   They’re facing an illness and have not been able to maintain their quota.”

“I am aware of the pandemic facing the South Isles,” Niashado said.  She pulled a leather folder from her coat and gave it to him.   “I have had our best alchemists working on it.  This is the formula for vaccine.”

“How- how can you know about this?” the president asked.  His antennae rose higher as if he suddenly came to a realization.   “Unless, you caused the illness!”  

“I know about this because your world is my responsibility.  Contrary to popular belief, most of the bad things that happen in this universe are not because of the Burning Legion.  Be careful with your accusations, President Chakony.”

“For-forgive me,” the leader cowed.   “I will send this to our disease control center.   They should be able to mass produce it.”

“Good.  I will cut five percent from the quota we expect to account for the difficulties your farmers are enduring.”

“Th-thank you.”

“Two months,”  Niashado said, raising a finger.  “Be ready.”   She brought her finger down and pressed it on the gem of her coat sleeve.  A portal opened behind her.   She pointedly turned her back on the president and his police escort and stepped through the portal, which closed moments later.

She stepped from the portal directly onto the bridge of the Legion Ship.  The dark green light cast a pale glow on the surface.   In the shadows demons worked the consoles.   Through the forward window she could see the capital city spread out below them.   The distant storm clouds continued to spew lightning.   Without realizing it, she resumed rubbing her bracelet.

“You are too gentle with them,” a shivarra said in way of greeting.

“You may be right, Laheera,” Niashado replied curtly.  “But this world is my responsibility, and I will administer it as I see fit.  At least until those who outrank me say differently.”

“And what happens if they revolt?” Laheera asked.    Niashado sighed.  

“Then I suppose we will do things the old way,” the eredar responded.   “Take us to Argus.”