Adventures of Superguy

August 19, 2010 - The Tower of Fate

Relativity?

20:48:29… 

“Ahhh!” 

With a burst of golden light, Connor and Walli found themselves somewhere else. A staircase landing, before a wide wall on one side and empty space on the other. Their hands were both still gripped around the familiar gold topped cane, and with a jerk, they discovered they still couldn’t let go of it.

Connor shook his head as he got to his feet, then stared in wonder all around them at the impossible vista his eyes beheld.

“What did you do?” Walli demanded, rubbing her head with her free hand. “You must have activated some kind of electrostatic field that forms an interatomic, magnetic attraction from the cane to any solid surface.” 

She smiled slightly at her own scientific deductions, but after a beat, looked up from the cane to Connor’s awestruck face.

“What?” She asked testily.

Connor reached out with his free hand and simply turned her head to witness the mind boggling area they had been transported to.

“Oh.”

Now they both beheld the wonder before them; a seemingly infinite liminal space of stairs, walkways, platforms and doors that extended in all directions. It utterly ignored physics and gravity; stairs jutted out into empty space with nothing supporting them, twisting space in impossible angles and folding back upon themselves. Connor’s eyes strained as he tried to even follow the line of one staircase as it went up and then at a 90 degree angle to hang in space, then folded back on itself implausibly.

“Are we in an MC Escher painting?” He asked numbly, his conscious mind refusing to acknowledge that what he was seeing was real. It had to be an illusion, or a hologram, and in that moment he desperately turned to Walli.

“You know what this is, right? Like a pocket dimension or whatever?”

Walli turned back to him with wide eyes and her mouth hung open, stupefied.

Well, shit.

“Hey.” Walli said, pointing. “Who’s that?”

Connor tried to follow the line from her finger to what she saw, but it passed across a particularly cubic area of staircases that hurt his eyes, or possibly his brain, to look at. He heard who she meant before he could find them visually; his telescopic vision kept twisting impossibly as what looked like clear lines of sight apparently followed the twisted space of the area and bent in a nauseating fashion.

Three figures were trudging up a staircase some distance from them; a thin, pale boy with emo hair in a gothic black suit, a tan man dressed in a sleek, stylized black tuxedo with a high collared cape whose lining was as white as the pointy shoes he wore, and a familiar, aged figure with his hands bound. Kent Nelson was still in the same dapper three piece suit they had seen in the photo Black Canary had shown them, but the old man looked ragged and tired, though he kept his head up, smiling with good cheer. That was despite the fact that he had his hands bound in front of him in a futuristic set of handcuffs, trudging up the stairs slowly ahead of the other two. The caped man had a white tipped magician’s wand aimed at his back that sparked occasionally, and the goth boy with the emo haircut had a tabby cat curled on his shoulders that he occasionally stroked. The boy’s nails, Connor noted, were long, curved and black. 

He either spends a lot of time at the manicurist, or he has claws instead of nails, he thought with a shudder. On some unspoken thought, they both crouched low along the edge of their platform, the cane still held between them.

“Abra Kadabra!” Walli hissed, pointing out the man in the cape. Connor dimly recalled the villain; one of the Flash’s.“Jesse’s tangled with him before, so have I. He’s from the future; stole a bunch of tech there to come back and play ‘master of the mystic arts’ as a supervillain, and lord it over us ‘prims’.” She said bitterly, frowning as she did.

Connor considered that for a moment, which matched his memories of the character. He was no doubt the source of Walli’s insistence that magic was just science dressed up in superstition and pageantry. The absurdity struck him at that moment and he turned back to Walli.

“Seriously? He’s from the freaking future and he came back to play pretend stage magician wizard? The thing that Zatarra actually is?”

Walli nodded grimly, not seeing the humor. Connor laughed and shook his head.

“What a loser…”

“I don’t know the goth kid, though.” Walli admitted as they continued to superstitiously surveil the trio.

Connor stared at the boy, eyes drawn to the cat. The trio finally passed into a ‘clear space’ and he could use his telescopic vision again without it bending like light down a twisted fiber optic cable. He looked closer, and he saw the boy’s messy black hair was shaped into a pair of devil horns, drawn back from his thin, cruel, sneering face. The coat of his suit hung down to his knees, and had wide draping sleeves. The lining of his suit was red, and his white shirt had an absurdly high, starched white collar. It was a look that would have been ridiculous on a kid at the mall, but in this place, in this world, it gave him a sinister air that Connor felt in his bones. As the boy stroked his cat, Connor froze as goosebumps broke over his skin.

I know that cat…

He wasn’t the best with recognizing alley cats, as they tended to all look the same beyond their general coloration. But he recognized the collar and the bell; it was the same cat as he had seen in the alleyway. With that, the gears in his mind finally clicked together and he realized who the boy was.

Oh. Fuck.

“Klarion the Witch Boy…” he muttered, his mouth going dry.

“Who?” 

Where do I even start? He thought, as he licked his lips.

“He’s a witch, like an actual one. Not like Abra, more like Dr. Fate. He does actual magic. Powerful magic. He can do… I don’t know. Anything. He’s seriously bad news. Like a temperamental toddler with the power to snap his fingers and turn you into a jack-in-the-box.” He explained, and he could see the disbelief in Walli’s eyes, even as she opened her mouth with what he knew was another objection.

“Save it!” He hissed, holding his hand up to forestall her tirade. “Look, in the-” he began, before correcting himself. “Back in my world,” he clarified. “Klarion is a real witch. Or a demon. Or something like that. I don’t think he’s really human. He just pretends to be. But his power is REAL. And really dangerous. I don’t know all he can do, I think he just makes it up as he goes along.” 

He huffed in frustration, looking away from Klarion, and realized he had done it because he was afraid Klarion could feel the eyes on him.

Klarion is either a joke or deadly serious. I’m not lying to Walli; I have no idea what he can do. He could shoot magic missiles at us or he could turn us into cat toys. He’s got bullshit powers as the plot demands. 

“Right, whatever. Goth kid is an evil witch, Nelson’s a good witch. What are we gonna do? Drop a building on him and run him for his shoes?” Walli asked sharply, looking back at the Witch Boy. “Actually, those are pretty nice shoes. You should get shoes like that.” She added as she glanced down at his bare and slightly lava encrusted feet.

They shared a look, and then chuckled. 

“Yeah, no thanks. But we gotta get Nelson away from them. Thoughts?” He asked, and she stroked her chin.

“This place has super weird gravitational stuff going on, so I don’t think you should try jumping around.” Walli pointed out, and as Connor looked down he realized their platform was upside down in comparison to the trio’s. Their down was ‘up’ and the trio’s was reversed. There was a twisted tangle of staircases that branched everywhere, and he tried to follow a path toward them, but it was like a kid’s maze puzzle that kept shifting. He shook his head in frustration.

“I follow you, but how do we reach them, then? This place is like a 4D labyrinth.” He asked.

“Its not 4D, the fourth dimension is-” Walli started to explain but he held up his hand to forestall her once more.

“Alright, Stanford, I get it. But how do we reach them?” He asked, and her brow furrowed at his nickname.

“I’ll scout us a path. Wait here!” Walli hissed as she darted away.

Only to be brought up short when she reached the end of reach and jerked to a stop, turning back to Connor, her eyes trailing down to the cane they were both still holding. Their eyes met.

“Still can’t let go either, huh?” Connor asked sardonically.

Walli growled in her throat as she tugged hard several more times on the cane, utterly unmoving since Connor still held it with his indomitable strength. She gave up in a huff after a few more attempts. 

“So… some kind of atomic attraction between molecules on the cane?” He asked, bemused. Walli only glowered back at him.

“Well then we’ll have to go together.” She declared and in a blur she picked him up in a piggy back carry with a grunt of effort. “Goddess, you’re heavy…”

“Did you just call me fat?” Connor demanded theatrically as he awkwardly shifted in her grip. This was the only way she could carry him with their hands still glued to the cane, but that didn’t make it comfortable.

Walli choked at his joke, glancing back at him over her shoulder, then rolled her eyes at his grin.

“Just hold on.” She ordered, and then they were off. 

Connor was fascinated by their speed; he hadn’t been carried by a speedster since the night Jesse and Walli took him to the West’s house. This was a much more confusing ride, as they passed up and down twisting staircases and platforms at a blinding pace as Walli attempted to find a path towards Nelson and his captors, and was forced to backtrack multiple times without slowing down. 

Being carried at superspeed is way different from doing it yourself. Maybe Walli can give me some pointers? Its really hard to turn on, and exhausting. But I can’t eat my way back to a full tank like she can. The drawbacks of being solar powered, I guess.

Walli finally brought them to a halt, crouching low to let him off and shushing him as she crept closer to the edge of the platform. Looking down over the edge of this platform, they could see the trio below them, Nelson still leading the trio. But now they could hear their conversation.

“Are we there yet?” Klarion asked.

“No.” Abra answered tersely.

“Are we there yet?”

“No.” The futuristic stage magician answered, his patience clearly growing thin.

“Are we there yet?” The witch boy asked again in a sing-song tone, enjoying the game.

“NO!” Abra erupted and wheeled on Nelson, dragging him around and getting into his face. “You! Tell us how to find the helmet!”

Nelson only smiled, and Abra gritted his perfect white teeth, shoving the old man back. Klarion tittered at the outburst, his sadistic glee at winding up his compatriot evident. Abra shoved Nelson, and the old man tumbled to the floor. Connor gripped the staircase edge hard enough to make the mystic material creak

“Can’t.” Nelson answered finally, as he sat up. “Having too much fun.” He finished, a knowing smirk on his face. 

Nelson’s defiance only enraged Abra further, and he dramatically raised his wand as it crackled with electricity. A bolt shot out and struck Nelson, who cried out and writhed on the ground for a moment until the electricity shut off. He groaned and rolled over, smoking slightly as Klarion clapped and capered.

“Still having fun?” Abra asked cruelly.

“He he he, I am!” Klarion added unhelpfully. “Zap him again! Or dump him off the side and watch him splat! Who knows what direction he’ll end up in? He he he!”

Connor and Walli shared a look, and Connor pointed straight down. Walli nodded, and they prepared themselves.

They leapt simultaneously off the platform and landed right behind Abra. Connor silently thanked his lucky stars there hadn’t been any weird gravity falls to push them off course. Abra was turning towards them, his wand crackling, so Connor focused on the task at hand. With a low sweep kick, he knocked Abra’s legs out from under him. He followed up with a soccer kick that sent the felon from the future flying across the platform. At the same time, Walli dived towards Nelson and Connor had to hurry over to let her reach him, their hands on the cane still linking them.

“No! No no no!” Klarion screamed hysterically, a black nimbus of energy with a red light limning it filling his clawed hands. He hurled the energy like a baseball and Connor shifted to cover Walli and Nelson as the blasts impacted. 

“Argh!” He cried, grasping his chest. The blasts felt like oily splatters as they impacted, but were simultaneously burning hot and icy cold. His senses felt scrambled and his skin was scorched, but his charges were safe. Walli helped Nelson rise to his feet, and the old sorcerer saw what was linking the two heroes.

“Well, would you look at that?” He said smoothly, and he reached out and grabbed the top of the cane held between the two youths. It glowed with golden light again, and in a flash, the three of them were back on the platform that the young heroes had arrived on. Distantly, they could hear Klarion screaming his denial at losing his prisoner. As soon as they appeared, the force that held their hands to the cane disappeared and they both jerked back. Nelson rose, leaning on the cane, and pointed it at the wall of the platform.

“In here.” He snapped, and a bolt of golden light erupted from the cane and struck the wall, where it outlined a double door that hadn’t been there before. The doors opened like an elevator, and judging by the ten foot square room, wood paneling and brass fixtures, that’s what it was. Nelson waved them ahead, turning briefly to throw up a golden shield that deflected more dark energy orbs hurled by Klarion. Then he followed them in, and the doors shut behind him with a musical chime.

Connor and Walli stood against the back of the elevator, bewildered as Nelson faced forward and the carriage began to move. Or it did according to the pentagonal display above the doors, which rapidly began going through a series of numbers, letters, and then mystic symbols that didn’t make any sense. Connor couldn’t feel any movement, up or down. Muzak started piping in from somewhere, which confused Connor even more. The elevator ride kept going, and the silence stretched uncomfortably after the brief excitement of rescuing Nelson. Connor looked to Walli, who was just as perplexed, and gestured toward Nelson’s back. She just looked unsure of what to do or say, so Connor rolled his eyes and looked back toward Nelson, opening his mouth to ask a question. That’s when he locked eyes with the old sorcerer, who was observing him in the mirror finish of the bronze elevator doors, a knowing smile on his face.

“Oh, I’m Kent Nelson, by the way.” The sorcerer said over his shoulder, finally addressing them.

“No duh- ow!” Walli snarked and Connor elbowed her for her rudeness.

“I’m Connor. Miss Manners here is Walli.” Connor stated, squaring himself up as he introduced them to the genuine Dr. Fate. 

The old man had a twinkle in his eye and a sly smile as he leant on his cane and he turned to regard them. His blue eyes were old and tired, but still sharp and piercing, and Connor felt like Nelson could look right into his soul. He shivered involuntarily.

“Well, Connor…” Nelson said with pleasure. “Thank you both for the rescue. But we’re up against an opponent with tremendous mystic power.” He continued in a more serious tone.

“Who, Abra Kadabra?” Walli scoffed. “Jesse Quick proved he uses futuristic technology to simulate magic. Guy’s all show and no biz.” She stated authoritatively.

“Right you are!” Nelson replied, like a school teacher whose dimmest student had just gotten a question right. Walli smiled smugly and gave Connor a ‘hmm!’ at the praise. “Abra IS a charlatan. But Klarion the Witch Boy, the kid with the cat? He’s the real deal. An actual Lord of Chaos. The ultimate enemy of a Lord of Order like Dr. Fate.”

Connor looked at Walli and raised his eyebrows at her. She scoffed again and rolled her eyes.

“Right. You’re a ‘lord of order’.” She asked in the same manner one would inquire about the healing power of crystals being sold at a mall kiosk.

“Oh no, not me!” Nelson said dramatically, clutching a hand to his chest. “I’m just an old coat Fate used to put on.”

Connor’s eyes narrowed at the breezy tone Nelson used, but the haunted look that flashed in his eyes. The old man dug into his waist coat pocket as Connor pondered that statement.

That’s right; Dr. Fate is a mantle worn by anyone who wears the Helmet. The Helmet is Dr. Fate; everyone wearing it is just a vessel. That’s… rough when you think about it. An immortal spirit in a magic helmet takes your body for a spin. Even for a good cause…

It was not a fate he would envy anyone.

Nelson finally withdrew a pocket watch, and flicked it open. Connor could see the inside cover had a yellowed photograph in it, a portrait of a smiling woman with a very archaic hairstyle. Nelson regarded it for a minute, a sad smile on his face.

“Or, I was, until my wife Inza convinced me there could be more to life. Ah…” Nelson sighed. “She was a real dynamo, my Inza.” After another moment regarding the portrait, he clicked the watch shut and perked up, his tone immediately returning to the playful banter he had before his trip down memory lane. 

“Anywhoo, Klarion’s after the Helmet. If he gets his sticky little mitts on it, he’ll turn the planet into his own personal playground of pandemonium. He and Abra kidnapped me weeks ago. They’ve been trying to break me, get me to let them into the Tower so they could steal the Helmet. Didn’t work, though. I’ve been tortured by a lot worse than the likes of them.” Nelson stated glibly, and Connor’s gut clenched at his tale.

“Then how did they get in?” Walli asked.

“It seems somebody used a Key to reveal the Tower, and the rascals followed them in.” Nelson said with a grin that held no malice. 

Connor and Walli winced.

“Sorry, Mr. Nelson-” Connor began but the old man waved him off.

“Its quite alright, son. I was stalling for time. I knew my friends would send someone along eventually and give me the chance to turn the tables on those two nincompoops. And lo, they did, and we did!” He said, laughing and twirling his cane.

Then the elevator gave a ding, ending its presumed journey, and the doors parted to reveal a well appointed library with high backed, leather stuffed chairs, books lining the walls, and a massive hearth with a fire blazing in it. Above the mantle was a large, hand painted portrait of the woman in the photograph, reclining on a sofa.

Inza… Connor realized, looking around the room. THere were two chairs before the fire, one well worn and polished, the other with a folded quilt draped over the back. The chair with the quilt had no dust on it, but something about its aged leather and the neatly folded quilt told him no one had sat there for many years. Connor swallowed as he realized Nelson had spoken of Inza in the past tense.

Nelson walked through the room, barely sparing the chairs or the portrait a glance as he approached a pair of polished hardwood and bronze scrollwork double doors, and pushed them open. Beyond was a familiar vista, the endless meandering staircases of the previous chamber. But it appeared they were somewhere… higher? Before them was a large open air platform, and dominating the platform was an enormous golden bell, covered in intricate scrollwork. They followed Nelson out onto the platform, and the doors shut themselves behind them. 

The old man approached the bell, but paused, tapping his cane thrice on the ground. Above them, a doorway opened in midair, the portal glowing solid white and facing down at them. Out of it fell Apollo and Kaldura, who crashed to the platform with a groan. After a second, M’gann gently levitated out down out of the portal, her skirt twirling in the frigid breeze. As soon as she saw him, she broke out in a wide smile that made her eyes sparkle. Connor smiled back at her, relief blooming in his heart and curing the worry for his friends he hadn’t had time to notice before.

“Friends of yours?” Nelson asked sardonically, as Apollo and Kaldura got to their feet.

“Guys! You’re alright!” Connor shouted as he jogged over to them, smiling.

Their reunion was interrupted by a blast of lightning that sent everyone scrambling for cover. Connor looked down the arcing line of power to its source; Abra Kadabra, standing on a platform that was 90 degrees to theirs, so he was looking up at them across their horizontal plane.

“Friends of yours!?” Walli shouted as she hustled Nelson away.

Connor dashed toward her and Nelson as the rest of the team scrambled out of the way of the lightning storm that Abra was hurling came their way. Klarion held his cat clutched in his hands, tittering at their predicament. There was no cover on the platform but the bell, so Connor hustled Walli and Nelson toward it. 

Nelson straightened up as they took cover, and took the cane in both hands and beat it against the bell like a knocker. The bell tolled sonorously, and Connor felt it in his chest. It felt as if it was vibrating everything. The tolling bell glowed with a golden light, and with a head nod, Nelson directed he and Walli toward it. Then the old man stepped into it like it wasn’t really there, golden light outlining him, and he was gone. WIth a look, they followed the old sorcerer and saw nothing but golden light for a second.

When his vision cleared, Connor could see the stars above them, and breathed a sigh of relief at being out of the Tower and its bizarre geometries. Now they stood on the tower’s top, a stone parapet surrounding them. And floating off the ground at head height, just in front of the trio, was a familiar golden helmet. 

The Helmet of Fate was a golden treasure, a fin traveling down the crown and back of it, with only two narrow eye holes on the front. The empty helmet bobbed in the air, and Connor felt that the dark holes of the eye slits were staring at him. Nelson walked toward it, his hands reaching up to pluck it out of the air.

In a flash of black lightning, twisted with strands of blood red, lanced out and struck Nelson in the chest. He screamed, and fell backward, before his aged fingers could lay hands on the Helmet. Connor dived forward to catch him, cradling the man in his arms as he groaned and clutched his chest. He looked up and saw a smirking Klarion, his arms outstretched, still glowing with his abyssal power. 

Walli wasted no time and dashed forward to attack Klarion, who with a desultory gesture, threw up a red energy shield that deflected her superspeed blow and sent her skidding off to the side. 

Connor was torn, holding onto Nelson as Walli was knocked down. As Nelson coughed weakly, he held onto him, cradling him up. Now that he was touching him, he felt how frail the old man was. He weighed nothing, and he felt like a baby bird in Connor’s hands. Nelson groaned and looked up at him, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. When he did, Connor could see the smoking ruin that was his chest.

Nelson inclined his head, mumbling some rhythmic chant under his breath as his cane glowed. It went on for a moment, long enough for Walli to regain her feet and charge Klarion again. This time the Witch Boy conjured dozens of glowing red balls, the size of billiards, and tittered as he made finger guns and ‘pew pew’ noises. Each one fired a ball of energy at Walli, who aborted her charge to dodge out of the way of the bullet-fast projectiles.

But then Nelson’s chant ended, and he raised his cane up before bringing its tip down onto the stones. The instant he did, a golden half dome shield sprang into existence around them, and Klarion screamed in rage.

“NOOO!” The Witch Boy cried.

With that effort expended, the old man sagged in his arms. His glassy eyes met Connor’s, and he whispered to him.

“The shield will last long enough… for you to do what needs to be done.” He rasped, and Connor shuddered at the sight of his chest and the weak, wet breaths he took. 

He can’t die. He’s Dr. Fate! Heroes don’t just die like that!

“What- what do I need to do?” He asked desperately, holding Nelson in his arms, taking in his wound with helpless eyes.

“Have… faith…” Nelson whispered, his eyes growing distant. His trembling hand reached down to his waist coat, fumbling for the pocket watch, and Connor helped him grab it. Nelson gave a grateful nod, flicking it open to look at the picture of Inza again. He stared at it as his eyes grew dim, and the weak rise and fall of his chest faded. Then his eyes closed, and he lost his grip on the pocket watch. It clattered to the stones with a sound like a funeral bell to Connor’s super human hearing.

Connor’s mouth hung open, disbelieving. He shook Nelson, but the old man didn’t respond. He looked down at the ruin of Nelson’s chest, and he knew. Connor had seen many people die in the hospital, some quickly and some slowly. But he knew what a body looked like, and what its limp coldness meant. He lowered the body to the stones, still in shock.

Then he looked up at the bobbing Helmet of Fate, and saw his reflection in the burnished gold of its face plate. 

Dread filled him.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!