[May 21] [Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?/Legend of Zelda] Centennial Lady, chapter 3

[rose-of-pollux.livejournal.com]

Title: Centennial Lady; Chapter 3
Day/Theme: May 21; Home is. Run. No. More.
Series: Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?/The Legend of Zelda: Oracle of Ages
Character: The Dying Informant (and company), Veran
Rating: PG13

Will be cross-posted to my journal


The Informant couldn’t move as he stared at the statue. He was numb. The Rookie looked pretty numb, too, staring at Veran with a look that clearly said a lot of unflattering things. And the Inspector’s deadpan was failing him now.

“How… How did she… Is Patty even…” the Messenger trailed off, placing a hand on Patty’s stone shoulder. She didn’t move, nor did she show him the hatred he knew she had against him for breaking her and the Informant up. He looked back at Eartha-Veran. The sorceress eventually pulled her spirit out of the weightlifter, leaving a weakened, trembling Eartha sinking to the floor.

“My strength…” the musclewoman moaned. “It’s gone…”

“Don’t tell me you stole her strength, too!” the Messenger asked. “Look, you have to give it back and get Patty out of that rock!”

The spirit straightened up, looking at the agent haughtily.

“I had to protect my little prince,” she said. “I did not see you rushing to aid him, so I took matters into my own hands. She will not harm him again, and this one…” She glanced at Eartha. “Shall not trouble you, either; she, too, will be encased when the last of her strength fades. And are they not your enemies? You should be thanking me, Ingrate!” She slapped the Messenger harshly across the face.

But before the Messenger could say anything in reply, a sleepy Recruiting Officer came through the door, having driven all the way from home after receiving the alert. “Guys? What’s going on? It’s 4:30 in the morning…” He stared dumbly at Patty, and then at Eartha, who looked pitiful. And then his eyes stared at Veran, unable to believe the sight. “What is this!?” he asked. “What happened to Patty and Eartha!? And who is she!?”

Veran merely smiled, walking over to the Informant.

“I am this boy’s guardian spirit,” she purred, brushing his bangs and kissing his forehead again.

And now the young agent seemed to come awake; he glanced at the mark on the Messenger’s cheek and the blisters on the Techie’s fingers. And then he looked back to Veran, his eyes carrying a devastated expression.

“You hurt them…” he said. “You hurt my brothers! If you’re supposed to be my guardian, why did you hurt them!?”

“Oh, forgive me, Little Prince,” she whispered. “I was only trying to protect you. But my work here is done at the moment. The strongwoman’s energy will aid me, but I must meditate to regain more of my old strength. Once I regain enough, I can continue what I started centuries ago…” She withdrew into the amethyst. “Keep me with you safely at all times, Little Prince. You wouldn’t want harm to befall me, after all…”

The Informant swallowed hard; he wasn’t the kind of person to wish ill on anyone. And besides, if something did happen to Veran, what would become of Patty and Eartha? Veran might be the only one who could put them back to normal…

The young agent looked up at the several pairs of eyes looking at him.

“Infy…” said the Messenger, unsure of what to say. He took a step forward, which prompted the Informant to stuff the amethyst in his pocket.

“She wants me to keep her with me,” he said. “She… She was just trying to help; maybe we can convince her to put Patty and Eartha back to normal--”

“She’s not trying to help!” the Techie yelled, in such a tone that the Informant stared at him, horrified. “Open your eyes! She’s evil!”

“How can you say such a thing!?” the Informant cried. “You don’t know the whole story--”

“Yes, I do,” said the Techie. “I was looking up ‘the whole story’ in the preserved archives on the history of Labrynna. Your ‘lady friend’ acted like a female Saurman, manipulating the real queen to turn against her people and build an evil tower. When the queen began to have doubts, Veran took over her and declared herself queen.”

“If that’s true, then I’m afraid that you’ve been had,” said the Inspector.

“It’s true,” said the Techie, his eyes burning.

“But it can’t be!” the Informant cried. “Maybe you read it wrong. Maybe the original queen was the bad one, and Veran was trying to help…”

“Of course I was trying to help!” said Veran, apparently able to hear every word while inside the stone. “Ambi was going to lead Labrynna down the road to ruin; I had to step in and save it! Who will you believe, Little Prince? Some old document written by my detractors, or the poor soul who spent centuries in torment…!?”

“She wasn’t helping!” the Techie snapped. He didn’t mean to lose his temper with the Informant, but he cared about his younger friend so deeply that he was deeply hurting to see him being manipulated by this sorceress. “The land was dying—it was called the Age of Shadow!”

The Messenger was close to snapping now, too; it was just like when Patty had been leading the young agent astray, only this was far, far worse. At least Patty hadn’t wanted to rule the world… And now the older agent was fighting the impulse to seize his brother by the shoulders and shake some sense into him.

“Why are you so determined to believe her, Infy!?” he said. “Even without Techie going out of his way for you and looking up those archives, we can see it. So why can’t you!? Not even a bad person would want to be trapped in an Ouija board, so she sweet-talked you into setting her free! Why can’t you see that!?”

“Dude, she took you for a ride…” said the Rookie, with a shake of his head.

The Informant stared at the Messenger with an unreadable expression. He didn’t know why he wanted to believe Veran. His better judgment had told him otherwise, but her voice had been so… bewitching…

“Hello!?” the Techie yelled, bringing him around.

The Recruiting Officer passed a hand over his eyes.

“Look, regardless of what’s going on, we have a problem here…” he said.

He was staring at Eartha; an encasing of stone was now slowly covering her, too, but she was too weak to cry out for help. Realizing that there wasn’t much they could do, they decided to move her and Patty into the cells.

“Well, if that’s all…” said the Informant, hoping that everyone would just leave him alone. “It’s going to be dawn soon, and I think I’d prefer to get some sleep--”

“Oh, no you don’t.”

It was the Techie who had spoken now; not the Messenger, as he would’ve expected.

“Techie, just chill out,” he said. “I don’t think anything can happen in just a couple hours; we can discuss this after we--”

“Oh, there’s plenty that can happen ‘in just a couple hours,’” the Techie retorted. “She can turn you further against us, and I’m not going to let it happen!”

“Techie…” The blond was visibly numb.

“Don’t ‘Techie’ me!” said the distraught brunet. “You brushed me off when I told you not to set her free. Well, you’re going to listen to me now, whether you like it or not!” He caught himself, gasping, also running a hand over his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry… I don’t want to hurt you, but Veran does. She’s using you, can’t you see that…? You going to get hurt, and I don’t want to see that happen to you, of all people…” He pulled the blond close to him, hugging him, ignoring the blisters on his fingertips, which were still hurting. “You’ve been hurt so much by people who took advantage of your kindness. I can’t see it happen to you again.”

“No, Little Prince! He’s trying to turn you against me! You cannot let him do so; he doesn’t care about you—he only wants you to help him with that confounded translator. That’s all you’re good for to him!”

“None of us can bear to see it happen again,” the Messenger was saying, placing a hand on the numb Informant’s shoulder. He was unable to hear Veran.

But the young agent heard Veran all too well. He tried to pull away from the Techie.

“Please… don’t push me away,” the Techie pleaded. “I’m trying to help you.”

“…I don’t think you can help me, Techie…” the Informant said, softly. “This is something I have to deal with on my own.”

The Techie stared at him with a devastated expression now, unable to say a word.

The Inspector shook his head in disgust.

“Techie, did you read anything about how to get rid of that witch’s spirit?” he asked.

“Well, no…” said the Techie. “But it sounds to me that if her spirit is so connected to that amethyst, then destroying it will destroy her, or at least render her powerless. That’s why I tried to take it; I was going to--”

The Informant could hear no more; Veran’s scream of terror filled his ears.

“No! Don’t let him! He’ll destroy me, Little Prince!” she shrieked. “Oh, mercy! Mercy! He will throw my amethyst into the fires of the Labrynnian volcano and destroy me!” She emerged from the amethyst, holding her arms around the Informant. “I may have strayed in the past, but surely you believe in second chances?” She ran her ghostly fingers through his blond curls.

The young agent just let out a weak moan, trembling.

“Stop it!” yelled the Techie. “Let him go!”

Veran’s gaze bore into the brunet.

“I will never let him go,” he heard her voice say. “He is mine now. He is my Little Prince, and he will rule the second Age of Shadows with me.”

The Techie paled as she smirked at him.

“Why do you need him…?” he mentally asked.

“I will explain it to all of you,” she replied. “But I think this vision will tell you all you need to know.”

The Techie’s heart caught in his throat as he was suddenly no longer in ACME Crimenet. He was in a room in a tower. The sky outside was red, as though it were on fire, and all around was dead wasteland, as far as the eye could see. His jaw fell in horror as he stared out the window.

“If you came to see me, then speak!” a familiar and harsh voice hissed.

The Techie turned, gasping to face the Informant, seated on a throne. He looked much older; obviously, he was looking at a vision of the future. Next to him, on another throne was Veran, smirking at him.

But it was the Informant appearance that terrified him. The blond was dressed in a black robe that bore the same symbol of Ganon that Veran wore. The wretched amethyst was around his neck. But nothing was as terrifying as the cold, emotionless expression in the blond’s eyes.

The Techie let out a soft cry, the Informant’s true name issuing from his lips.

The blond man’s eyes arched.

“You speak that name…” he said. “Yes… Long ago, that was my name, wasn’t it? But no more, alas. Who are you, and how do you know my former name?”

“Former…?” the Techie asked, horrified. “Who are you now?!”

“I am the Sorcerer of Shadows; that is the only name I go by now,” he said. “But how do you know of my long-dead life?”

“I was your friend!?” the Techie cried, revealing his true name. “I was your brother! It’s me—it’s Techie! …Don’t you know your Techie…?”

“Techie…” the Sorcerer whispered, and then he repeated the Techie’s true name. “Yes… You were there, in my youth…”

“That’s right…” the brunet whispered, relieved that he remembered him at all. He ran up to the throne, placing his hands on his dear friend’s shoulders.

“You dare to have the audacity to touch me,” the Sorcerer said, his eyes narrowed.

“But you’re my brother…” the Techie whispered. “I… I don’t know what’s happened to you, but we’ll set things right… Just like you did to me during the Phantom Riders case, remember?”

The eyes remained cold as the Sorcerer shook his head.

“That life is over,” he said. “It’s all dead. You’re dead to me. Begone and leave me.”

“No…” the Techie broke into sobs. “I won’t leave you now… I can’t. I can’t live watching you like this.”

The blond man’s eyes bore into his.

“Then die.”

The Techie didn’t have time to flee as the Sorcerer withdrew a dagger from his robe. He brought it down, and, once again, the Techie screamed out the Informant’s true name.

“What? What is it?”

The Techie blinked, staring into the eyes of the bewildered, numb blond boy, who was still in Veran’s arms.

The Techie placed a hand to his face, wiping the sweat.

“Techie, what happened?” asked the Messenger, concerned over what seemed to be the sudden fit that the Techie was having.

“It’s her!” cried the Techie, pointing at Veran. “She’s turning our Informant into a monster! We have to stop her!”

Not caring that he was going to burn his fingers again, he tried to grab the amethyst from the younger agent’s pocket, but Veran seized it.

“Little Prince, surely you do not believe that I am turning you into a monster,” she said. “They are jealous because they know I can give you more than they can. And once I reclaim sovereignty over this world, you will rule it with me.”

The Techie shuddered, recalling the vision.

“So that’s what you really want…” accused the Informant. “And so you used him.”

Veran pressed the amethyst into the Informant’s hand.

“I have strengthened the spell,” she said. “Already you saw that he is the only one who can hold this gem. Now there will be greater pain for the next one who touches it. Pain that will give you much worse than blisters…” she added, glaring at the Techie with hatred. “My Little Prince is the only one I trust. You will see—out of his own free will, he will let me do as I please, and then he will leave you and join me.

“Now, Gentlemen, I must bid you all adieu. There is much to be done for me to usher in the second Age of Shadows.”

The Informant gasped slightly; the Techie had been right… He had been right all along…

“Hold it!” said the Recruiting Officer, trying to creep up behind her with a special set of handcuffs. These were handcuffs developed by ACME Mystic-net to seal ectoplasm—a useful tool when chasing Kneemoi. Hopefully it would work on this ghost…

He never had a chance to find out. Veran hissed, “Silence, Fool!” as the amethyst flashed with a blinding light in the Informant’s hands.

And when they could see again, the Recruiting Officer stood before them, encased in stone as Patty and Eartha had been.

The Informant let out a meek cry and sunk to his knees. Veran glanced at him and then back at the horrified Techie.

“What you saw will come to pass,” she mentally promised him.

And now the Techie crashed to his knees, praying.