Letter Bee — Roleplayer Guild

Two chapters of an original fic I'm writing. It's a story about Magical Boys and Girls, played straight, no Deconstructions (although I love PMMM), targeted towards, well, people who like Magical Boys and Girls in general; lighthearted Anime Fans. Does it appeal towards that target audience?

Prologue

California

“I can feel it.”

The speaker was an old man, with wispy white hair and a wrinkled, pointy face and nose, one that reminded people of a horror movie character; he was clad in a coat, red scarf, and a suit underneath said coat. 

He looked up at the sky, at the brewing storm on the sea. He was accompanied by two men, athletic figures who stood some paces behind him on either side - protective and close, but not so near that they hovered about him. They granted a respectful distance that allowed him ample space to think freely as he stood on the edge of a cliff, unafraid of the great height.

These two men were armed with pistols and carbines, which seemed closer to the models found in video games than in real life, as well as grenades.

“To the west of us, in the Dawn Archipelago, the wheels of fate are turning, new lights shine, hope reigns anew...only to find that like always, it is empty.” All warmth left the old man’s eyes now, as he looked over the coming storm.

“Tell me, who are our enemies?” he was asking his bodyguards now.

“The Police, sir,” spoke the leftmost bodyguard, a blond with green eyes, who looked uncomfortable with the question.

“And?” pried the old man further. 

“And honest officials, and activists, and people with a cause in general.”

“Yes. They have always used guns, money, and zeal against us,” said the old man, “trying to stop us from turning a profit, trying to stop us from taking what we want, what we deserve. And now,” he looked at them, ”it seems that God or ‘The Gods’ want their own piece of our pie, as well.”

“What do you mean, sir?” asked the second bodyguard, a brunette, baby-faced, young man with blue eyes, one more suited for an escort than a true guard.

“What I mean is,” the old man said, “you are not what you appear to be.” Suddenly, the old man drew out a hidden pistol and fired two shots.

*BLAM!* *BLAM!*

The two men fell down, gaping holes in their chests, but as they fell in their knees, they glowed brightly, and their clothes transformed; the blond’s changing into a shirt, blue jeans, sneakers and a leather jacket with artificial fur lining, while the brunette changed into a longcoated man clad in a T-Shirt, tan jeans, and another pair of sneakers. They got up, showing no evidence of their wounds.

“How long have you known?” said the brunette.

“Oh, oh, Caedwalla, he said to the blue-eyed man,  you and Emerald Azurehand have been known to me for quite some time now,” the old man was vague, the gun still smoking. “You have been trying to establish control over the supernatural in America, trying to get them to stop fighting each other...so that you can fight us.” He said the word ‘us’ with contempt. “Tell me, how goes your younger brother, Arthur? Does he keep playing games in the Archipelago still?”

“Enough exposition, Stephen,” Caed echoed the man’s contempt. Stephen Paolini, the old man who looked like a Hollywood villain, was a man of great power, great resources, and utterly and completely unscrupulous in getting both. “I would kill you...if you were really here. Emerald - Now!”

Emerald stretched out his hand, and ‘Stephen’s’ skin began to peel away, revealing metal and circuitry underneath; a Human Replica Robot, one of the first of its kind.

“Heh, heh, heh,” said the droid, “it seems that you knew what I am all along. Fair enough, Magical Boys, fair enough. But the fact is that you cannot stop the wheels from turning, not with yourselves, not with Arthur, not with any champion the Supernatural World might appoint. We, with the power of crime and commerce, resources and technology, will challenge your ‘Gods’, God, and your outdated ideas of morality, and we shall prevail.”

”You forget that Emerald here is a technomancer,” said Caed. “He can rip out any information your avatar has; he has already disarmed the various high explosives meant to take us down.”

“It doesn’t matter,” replied Stephen’s voice from inside the droid. “The pieces have been set, the opposition mustered. All you can muster, while you are digesting your recent gains in America, are children.”

“And children will defeat you, Paolini,” Caed replied. “I swear it.”

The droid can only laugh as Emerald took him away...

Chapter 1

Astrea, Dawn Archipelago

“Well, well, what have we got here?” the two heavily-built men spoke, staring at a wide-eyed boy of about fourteen. This boy had snuck behind their truck, was attempting to pick the locks of the human cages inside, then got caught.

“I -” said the boy in a tone of fear, stuttering, “- I was looking for food, sirs, and I found this truck -”

“Shut your yap, you little liar!” said the first thug as he kicked out at the boy, who managed to pull himself out of the way. This caused the kick to hit the nearest cage, startling the other children inside. One of the reasons the thug was so enraged wasn’t just because the wide-eyed boy was lying, but that it was so blatant. Why? Because despite being dirty from spending hours at the dock, his red shirt and tan jeans, marked with 'Astral Force' signs were rather clean.

What was a young, well-off kid doing in the docks, trying to free other children from the clutches of criminals? That was what the thugs didn’t know. Nevertheless, they were now thinking that if this kid was going to be so foolish, he might just join the children in the truck…

“C’mere, kid,” said the second thug, his tone trying to be sweet and friendly. “If you just tell us what a tyke like you is doing here -”

*FLASH*

“What was that?!” said the leftmost thug again, as the fourteen-year old before them began glowing, blinding the criminals as the boy spun, his shirt and jeans cleaned themselves up, smoothing out their folds in the process, before acquiring a golden lining. But what was most prominent was a glowing sword of energy, the lower half which had a crooked, serpentine blade, and the top half which was straight like western weapons.

A Kalis, a weapon that suited the boy’s evident Filipino heritage. Furthermore, it was glowing silver, almost white, a weapon of evident supernatural qualities.

The two nameless henchmen, once they had recovered their sight, were spooked now; never in their lifetimes have they seen any moment out of the ordinary.

Two seconds later, the boy was bull-rushing them, two strokes of his sword bringing them down; the children in the cages, if they hadn’t been scared, panicking, or drugged, would have noticed that there were no wounds on the slavers, although their clothing was cut.

But other thugs were now rushing towards the truck, attracted by the light, and as the boy jumped out of the vehicle, they prepared to pepper him with a combined volley of semi-automatic fire...if not for a stream of five green beams arcing out of a block of containers to the left of the truck, which brought down three more thugs. From the other flank jumped down, with enough force to crack concrete, an eight-foot tall armored figure clad in black plate, carrying a Zweihander.

“One last chance to surrender, assholes!” shouted the brown-skinned fourteen-year old boy who had started all this, who was now surrounded by an imposing silver aura of fire. “Let go of the kids, and we’ll let you go!”

The response from the scared criminals was to run as though they were pursued by Hades’ hounds.

The fourteen-year old smirked.

------

The kids were set free, the police and a prominent anti-human-trafficking group were called in order to mop up any returning criminals and make sure that the children were safe.

As for the three, the armored figure, the boy in gold-rimmed clothing, and the third, a young  girl in a pink top and a sniper rifle, had retreated to a motorboat moored to a hidden section of  the docks.

“Come on, Rhodry!” said the girl, “de-transform now and let’s go!” The armored figure responded by dispersing said armor into a scattered white motes, revealing a tall, heavily-built teenager of about sixteen years of age, clad in a pastel yellow shirt and normal-looking blue jeans, as well as tough sneakers. He then hopped into the motorboat, where the Filipino boy and the (Caucasian) girl had already hopped in; the latter took the pilot’s seat. And a few seconds later, the motorboat zoomed off, off to a destination unknown...

------

Two hours later, the trio were now in a room whose red carpet was perpetually clean, had an air conditioner that functioned even in the hottest tropical days, and which held a luxury sofa, a plasma tv with speakers, a DVD player, cable, and black waterproof remote controls.

“That...was...awesome!” said the young girl, who, in the light of the entertainment room, can now be seen more clearly. Her light brown hair and blue eyes, coupled with a long face and short smile, excluded her from the realm of conventional beauty, but her long, slim figure made her not ugly, either.

“It was, wasn’t it?” said the Filipino boy, whose messy black hair accentuated his black eyes and brown skin. Beside him was another Caucusian, with brown hair that was almost red, hazel eyes, and a tall, healthy build. He was eating butter popcorn while listening to the conversation with mild interest.

“Yeah, it was!” said the girl, who was flipping through channels on the remote. “Patrick, I can’t believe stuff like this is real! I feel just like those girls from that dark Magical Girl series, only not dark!”

Patrick smiled, before saying:

“Megan, that’s a good thing to feel, although, I must say, when we found The Cave,” he was able to pronounce the extra capital letters, “I wanted us to back out after rushing in.”

“Still think what we’re doing is dangerous, though,” Rhodry broke in. “I mean, I like rescuing kids as the next do-gooder, but the criminals will not stay unprepared forever. And there’s the news, and the YouTube videos, and of course, the fact that people will freak out once they find out MAGIC IS REAL!” he shouted in a tone of panic, bringing Patrick and Megan to a halt.

“Oh, come on,” spoke Patrick, “the fact of the matter is, the Diwata* work through a mix of Hindu and Faerie Magic, the latter part being important in that it messes with people’s minds. As long as we stay on the island, what happens there will be ignored by those from abroad...even if we blow up half the city, which we shall not.”

“Ah, yes, the Diwata,” said Rhodry. “Hindu Deities transformed into Western Fae by the Spanish Occupation of the Philippines and the Dawn Archipelago -”

“Madaling-araw (Filipino for Dawn), Rhodry,” said Patrick, before shutting his mouth again.

“And the Dawn Archipelago,” Rhodry continued a bit snippily, “who, according to you and your occult lore, combine South Asian and Western powers. Tell me, according to the data you yourself provided, how are we supposed to trust them, neat powers aside?”

In response, Patrick drew out, from his shirt, a rosary.

“Of course,” said Rhodry, “Catholicism is the defense against the same magical powers we use.” A sigh escaped his lips. “How are we supposed to get away with this hypocrisy?” He continued in a half-joking tone. He then smirked more joyfully.

“Anyway, enough talk. Let’s eat!” And with that, he began devouring more popcorn.

Patrick, meanwhile, stared wistfully at the ceiling…

------

The three of them were the wards of Phineas de Montejo, whose Un-Spanish name came from the fact that his mother had (matrilineally) married an American for money, starting a local scandal. Phineas was a charitable, though distant soul who had lost a wife to disease, and since then had tried to secure the soul of said wife through participating in charitable activities through the Catholic Church...while conducting clandestine, syncretistic rites in his mansion, activities tolerated because of his wealth and importance.

Patrick, Rhodry, and Megan were originally from different families, the first born to Filipino Immigrants who died in an accident, and the latter two siblings born through the liaison of an American Soldier from Fort Azure, and a local woman, who died in Megan’s childbirth. As the American Soldier had left for another posting, he can do no more than send money, and even that dried up when said soldier died in a freak air crash. So Phineas adopted them.

The three were raised on one simple maxim: That Sin was when you treat people like things, no more, no less, and they, in reverence to their father, tried to live by said maxim, while at the same time, pursuing their education.

Patrick was the most academically and physically accomplished, but more than made up for that by being the second to rush into trouble; the first one was Megan. Those two regularly went on daredevil, nay, nigh-suicidal, missions of exploration that drove Rhodry almost mad.

It also didn’t help that Phineas turned a blind eye to those missions, and, in fact, this entire trouble was caused by the fact that, once the old man realized he was dying, he sent the trio on a mission of his own, a mission to the beaches on the far side of his estate.

On said beaches, at low tide, was a cave with a glowing, rainbow color that inevitably drew Patrick and Megan’s attention. Those two rushed in, followed by a reluctant, almost fearful, Rhodry.

And that was the day when their lives changed.

For in that cave was a beautiful woman, clad in a white robe with a striped girdle, with a mix of Filipino and Caucasian features, and with pointed, leaf-shaped ears. This woman was a Diwata, a Hindu Goddess hybridized with Western Faeries. 

Patrick was the first to identify her, then, after trying to give himself as much poise as someone on his fourteenth birthday can muster, calmly asked a series of questions about herself, the cave, and magic.

From there, they learned that the Dawn Archipelago was a fount of magical power, magical power shaped by the human subconscious. Also, that there was a God, but he was far more than any human, or even Diwata, can comprehend. After going on that tangent, the Diwata spoke about how Magic, once present in the world, but now both gone and taboo, needed to be reintroduced, but in a way that would be...palatable to the majority of normal humans.

And by that, she meant that the trio had to become superheroes…

-------

“You know,” said Rhodry, “I can’t believe you agreed with me when I said that we cannot go fight crime without training.”

“Yes,” said Patrick, “only to suggest that we take a month off in order to train with Magic.”

“It’s a shame that our old man had to die, though,” said Megan, “although...dissolving into motes of light was not the way people usually do it.” She sighed, so did the other two; Phineas had died after the three returned to him with the news, but not before saying that he knew about the Diwata all along, and that he was going to leave in such a way as to allow them maximum freedom of action.

And that was when he transformed into the motes, leaving behind no body, and allowing Patrick to make up a story about how Phineas had gone into seclusion, not showing himself to anyone except his children. Seeing as there were no servants anyway - Faerie magic, friends, Faerie magic - the three now had free run of the place, as well as control of the Montejo fortune.

“At least he died happily,” said Rhodry, who looked at his sister. “Amazing, isn’t it, that we’re being so...blase about a responsibility that not even adults would want to take.”

“Hey!” said Patrick, “you’re not the one who has to file the old man’s tax forms!”

And the three Magical Youth laughed at that.

*https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diwata
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