The Riddle Of Magic

Chapter 11: Negative Space

Out of all the runes Alastor worked with, Phase was perhaps the most consequential.

He was skilled at all of his runes, of course, to varying degrees of mastery considering his years of experience in refining his arts. But Phase was one he was particularly attuned to.

It was his fastest to cast, with sigils so tightly formed they were often invisible, and refined enough to cost barely anything in terms of energy.

Warping was a technique he made constant use of, both in and out of battle. He used it on a daily basis; either as a means to get from one place to another - say, for instance, moving from the Hotel to the Emporium to catch up with Rosie, or simply to pop up behind someone to startle them while running up a flight of stairs (usually Angel).

The umbral landscape he slipped into when Invoking Phase wasn't really much of anything at all, blackened as it was. Perhaps it was a trail through a darkened forest, on a night with no moon, and the lights of far-off destinations shining through the dim.

He'd never imagined this place as an ocean, until he'd heard Charlie's story.

In many ways it was an appropriate image - the churning pitch might have been waves if he let himself give it that description.

All was one, in the dark. Even possibility itself.

The darkness bound everything, even other planes. The shadows let him linger close to those other places and he could travel there, if he so chose.

Alastor could just glimpse those alternative worlds, glistening in the dark like the ocean of stars Charlie had mentioned. If he strayed toward those lights, he could easily find anything he might wish for.

He'd never bothered with it. The musings of the opportunities shining out of the void were tempting - after all, consider the fabulous entertainment he might find! But to flee into another world felt too much like retreat for his tastes, at least for now. That was to completely give up on this place, to admit defeat.

Alastor would be damned all over again if he'd let that happen. The ocean of light could wait.

Approaching the Hotel, he could register an alien light pulsing from within. The spectres inside the barrier were panicked, hiding from it. It brought them pain, as much as they could tell from their limited understanding of the world. The light was the biting of a thousand teeth, tearing at them.

She's in the thick of it, the blue-faced shade warned.

Down the path in front of the Hotel's entrance, Angel and Cherri were sharing a cigarette, trying to shoo away a couple of antagonized shades as he rematerialized from the shadows. Vagatha was close by them as they talked quietly, fussing after one that kept trying to get under her feet.

"Damn Smiles, ya got a whole tree up there," Cherri gestured to his head with an impressed whistle as they noticed him.

"Feeling horny?" Angel Dust laughed, but his cackling stopped as Alastor swept past them, conjuring his cane.

The smaller spirits flocked to his darker presence, taking comfort from him and his larger shadow.

"What's their deal?" Vagatha asked. "Your little creatures just started going berserk."

"They do that when there's trouble, or haven't you been paying attention?" Alastor cut back, his smile thin with frustration at having been so soundly tricked.

"Trouble?" Vagatha rushed to catch up to him. "What's wrong? Where's Charlie?"

The Radio Demon's runes flared as he blew open the doors to the hotel.