Witches Brew
by Tim "Gabriel" Reynard
treynard@hotmail.com

Disclamer: Gargoyles and all related characters belong to Disney,
no profit is being made from this, yadda, yadda, yadda. 

This story is a sequel to "And Having Writ"  
It is also an alternate version of "Ill Met By Moonlight"
It contains scenes of violence.  Mature readers only, please. 

Time:  Some weeks after the end of "And Having Writ".

*****

	The Archmage glared down through white, slitted eyes at the 
silvery pool, beneath the marble enclosure.  The firelight from the torches
surrounding it, kept back the darkness of the night.  He was eating a meal
of bread and cheese, drinking a pale red wine.  The Eye had increased
his power tenfold, but his body was still depressingly mortal.  He did not
need as much as he had before, but sleeping was still a nuisance.  
	 Most things that dealt with his own race of this new world were
strange indeed.  
	In seemingly an instant to him, mankind had changed dramatically.
Science had taken hold of his species.  Science! It was almost too much
to believe, that the smiths and stonemasons of yesterday had grown into
the technological wonders of today.
	He'd learned there were two other continents on this Earth he
was destined to rule in.  That in itself was grand news.  
	Magic was practically gone.  Only a few possessed it still, but 
they refused to acknowledge it for the most part, blaming their sudden
surges of power on 'stress' or a hallucination.  He ground his teeth 
together.  He'd nearly laughed himself hoarse when he'd learned the
Harp of Orpheus was resting in a museum, collecting dust.  Why, if 
anybody were to playfully pluck the strings on that little piece of
work, they would find out that, given the right song, they could 
easily enthrall anybody who heard it.  
	Still, what science could achieve was impressive...even he would
be hard-pressed to create an exposion as devastating as a nuclear 
weapon.  Alchemy was a force to be reckoned with, he had surmised.  People
could make everything they ever wanted, simply from the right
combinations of elements.  A pity they STILL hadn't mastered turning
lead into gold.  
	Thank the Eye gold was still a monetary unit...
	And he'd been amazed by the revelation of the Moon...who would have
thought it had been another world alltogether.  He'd never looked at the
stars really, unlike some his more romantic sorcerer colleages, he'd
been to busy trying to establish power.  Now, he was pleased. Perhaps 
there were other worlds to conquer.  Once he'd taken control of this one,
with it's sciences and resourses, plus his own power, there would be none
to stop him.
	He'd been irritated to note the Illuminati was still around, though
they hadn't done anything noteworthy in years.  Just a group of old men
plotting for personal gain.  Nobody even knew of their existence.  What
was the point of having power if you didn't have anybody to show off too?
	People hadn't changed either. Still going through their meager
little lives, trying to survive and thrive. 
	Mind-altering drugs, virtual reality, gambling away all their 
money on machines that produced rows of oranges, they did anything to 
keep from being bored.  He'd enjoy bringing order
to their lives, making them actually productive.  
	Gargoyles were a fraction of the race they once were, he'd been
pleased to note.  With the death of the clan on Avalon, he'd counted
less than twenty clans in the entire world, and those were too small to 
be a threat to him.  They would all die of inbreeding within one
hundred years. 
	Television, he'd brushed off as a pointless diversion.  He'd heard
enough innane chatter in his day, why would anybody want to watch it?
	He'd studied their weapons of war and discovered them to be less
than adequate against his own powers.  A simple transmutation spell
would turn their weapons and their machines into...well, he hadn't decided
yet. 
	And should they use their incredible nuclear weapons, well, with a 
simple thought, the Phoenix Gate had all the time in the world to stop 
them...
	Not that they knew where to launch them at. Avalon wasn't exactly 
on any map.  
	Perhaps he'd start with destroying a city or three...each a different
way.  That would stop any feeble resistance from ever forming.  Yes, the
world would be fairly easy to conquer.  He'd start with Scotland.
Sentimental value, if nothing else.
	As he pondered the great and glorious future, a rumble of thunder
 caused him to look up.
	Billowing clouds were riding the winds across the sky, blotting
out the moon and stars.  
	"How very strange..." he mused.  It had been warm and pleasant
for as long has he had been here.  There was no such thing as a 'storm'
on Avalon.
	He reached out with his magical senses, newly heightened by
power unimaginable.
	And retreated just as quickly from power nigh equivalent to
his own.  Perhaps more.
	There was danger in this storm.
	"Sisters!" he called, knowing they would hear him. 
	Nothing happened.  He called again, frowning.
	He cast out his mind, seeking them out, that triumvirate
of minds, inextricably linked, yet undeniabley individual.  It was
hard to miss, he found them almost instantly.  Through
their eyes, he discovered they were in front of the palace, staring up
at the storm, slight smiles on their faces, hands linked so they stood
in a circle.  Their 'children', Demona and Macbeth, stood near. 
	~Sisters!~ he thought.  ~Answer me!~
	Still nothing.  Angrily, he sought to force his way in, using the
Eye to batter at their minds, but, linked as they were, power increased,
even he could not breach them.  
	Furious, he teleported there instantly.  "I demmand you answer me!
What is going on?"  He held up his hand and a fireball appeared, glowing
dangerously.  He backhanded the air and Demona and MacBeth flew away
from him as they had approached the threat to their captors.  
	"Our Lord and Father calls to us." said the white-haired Luna.  She
spoke without looking at him. 
	The Archmage's scowl grew even deeper.  "You're father...Oberon? 
Here?  Now!"
	"Yes." said Phoebe, dark hair framing her classically
beautiful face.  "He comes."
	"He will begin the summons to the Gathering." spoke Selene, eyes 
suddenly sparkling bright.  "Our brethren will come home."
	The Archmage's eyes flashed.  This complicated things.  
"And this means what to you three witches?  Will you abandon me to
your Lord?"
	All three turned and smiled at him.  "We will not leave your side,
 Archmage." said Luna.	
	"After all, did you not help us?" smiled Phoebe.
	"We reward those who do us favors." continued Selene.
	"I don't trust you." spat the Archmage.
	"Then you are wiser than most." said Phoebe flatly.
	They turned their gazes back to the darkening sky.  The Archmage
realized he would get no more answers from them.  He gritted his teeth
and cast a magical shield around himself, just to be safe.  It did
not protect him from the growing wind, which bit into his skin through
his clothes.
	Lightning began to flash through the clouds, amid
crashes of thunder.  The storm was growing, though rain did not fall.
	The Archmage grimaced as the ground began to rumble.  He watched
along with the Sisters and Demona and MacBeth as a dais of rock rose
until it towered above them.  
	The rumbling stopped.  The storm ceased, as if pausing for a breath
of air.  The thunder was silenced.
	The Archmage held his breath.
	A brilliant fork of lightning stabbed downward, directly
in front of them, striking directly on the rock face.  When the Archmage
could see again, two figures stood upon it, looking down at them.
	One was colored blue, with white hair styled in a ridiculous topknot.
Regal red and yellow armor hung on his frame.  Clearly Oberon.  The other
was female, pleasing to the eye, clad in brightly colored silks that 
revealed much of her sea-green skin.  The smile upon her face was crafty
and ambitous.  The Lady Titania, no doubt.
	"My Lord, the honor is ours that you grace us with your prescence once
again." Luna spoke for the group.
	"Indeed, my daughters." spoke Oberon's deep voice.  "Has this fair
isle been disturbed since the Banishing?"
	"It has." said Luna.  They all lowered their heads demurely. 
	Oberon frowned.  "Did I not bid thee to guard our Shores most
carefully, lest others make our home their own?"
	"You did, gracious Lord.  But our strength was not enough.  This
human..." Luna indicated the Archmage, who started.  "This human, using
the magic of our kind and his own, managed to overcome us and bring other
humans and gargoyles to our island, to profane your kingdom!"  
	"Lies!" the Archmage shouted.  "Oberon, these witches are deceiving
y-" he was interrupted at a magical blast exploding at his feet by Oberon.
	"You shall address us as our Title befits, or you shall pay the
consequences."
	"I..." the Archmage swallowed the retort.  He knew how to behave
before Kings.  "I apologize, my Lord.  Your daughters seek to do me harm
for unjust reasons."
	Oberon sniffed.  "And now who is it that is decieving whom?"  He
looked back at the Sisters.  "Pray, continue."
	"We managed to destroy all who had lived here.  The
island is cleansed of all other Races once again, my Lord." said Phoebe.
	"Except for our former *Master*." hissed Selene, eyes flashing
at the Archmage, who bristled, resisting the impulse to turn them
back into the avian forms from which he'd rescued them. 
	"A minor nuisance." said Oberon.  "One easily dealt with."
	"Think well, before you act rashly, my Lord." spoke Titania, suddenly.
"He has Odin's Eye upon his brow, and the Phoenix Gate upon his breast. 
And...I sense he has brought human magic upon this island...though I 
know not how.  Why has Avalon not destroyed him for it?"
	"You think I cannot defeat a mere mortal, doubting Titania?"  Oberon
raised an eyebrow.  
	"Not this one." spoke the Archmage harshly.  "I am not so foolish
as to stand here and let you plan my fate."  He reached out with his hand
towards Oberon and an iron band formed around his neck, 
tightening instantly.  "I know how your kind may be controlled."
	"Ahhhh...!" Oberon gasped in pain, sinking to the ground.  "St...stop
this...I gahhhh-command yo-you!"
	The Archmage altered the structure of the iron circlet, adding
impurities and the pain lessened.  "Now...my *Lord*...let us talk about how
you may serve me."
	"N...never..." groaned Oberon.  His face was ash-gray, his robes
had lost their luster.  He brought his fingertips, glowing white hot
to the band, melting it off of him.  The Lord knelt on one knee, breathing
heavily before slowly standing.  "You dare to attack the Lord of Avalon?" 
he said angrily.  
	"With this much power at my command, I so dare." boasted
the Archmage.  
	"You would not speak so if iron were not yours to command, human."
 Titania glowered.  
	The Archmage grinned.  "Very well.  If it pleases you, I shall
conjure no more iron with my magicks.  I can still beat you with a 
thought."
	"Indeed?" Oberon growled.  "We shall see." 
	"Indeed we shall." the Archmage said.  He pointed at the fey lord, 
who vanished instantly.
	Titania blinked. "What have you done?"
	"Merely teleported him into the heart of the volcano on this island."
the Archmage chuckled. "It should weaken him profusely if nothing else."
	"Ware, sorcerer." said Titania, cocking her head. "Oberon is
a cunning and crafty foe, and the counsel you keep thrice as much.  Keep
that in mind, else you are caught between them."
	And she vanished.
	He rolled his eyes.  Fey.  Weak-minded philosophers.
	He teleported away, flames fading behind him.
	Titania glanced down at the Weird Sisters.  "And just what are
you three planning now?"
	They looked up at her, suddenly transformed into little girls, from
whom innocence radiated.  
	"Don't play that game with me." the Fey Queen said sharply.  "I taught
it to you, remember?" 
	The three little girls glanced at each other, smiled slightly, and
looked up at their mother.  

*****

	The Archmage reappeared floating over the crater of the volcano,
poisonous fumes and heat rolling off him like water.  He grinned, and 
waited for the show to begin.
	With a angry yell, the Lord of Avalon burst out of the molten rock
at it's center.  The white robes were blackened and once regal armor gray
with soot.  Oberon himself was a bit ragged for having been dropped into the 
center of a volcano. His pointed ears were more prominent against his
skull and his hair was limp and idle.  He hurriedly spun in place to rid
himself of the burning lava and immediately spotted the Archmage above him,
grinning.  "You DARE!" shouted Oberon.  "I shall deal with you in a most
painful manner, mortal!" 
	"Then do so, and stop wasting my time, Lord of Idle Threats." said the
Archmage.  He opened his palm towards the raging Lord of Avalon and shards
of white fire burst from his hand and struck Oberon full in the chest,
sending him wheeling backwards with a grunt.  The Fey Lord righted himself
and took the next few with the glitter of clenched teeth.  He suddenly 
snapped out of existence and the Archmage narrowed his eyes.  Invisibility.
	He cast his senses outward, seeking to find Oberon by his magic
alone, but the whole island was magical, making it difficult to narrow down
his search.  
	Where was he...the Archmage glared around and probed harder. What was
 that behind-
	A hand clapped down from behind him upon the Eye, which immediately
flared in response.  Oberon snapped back into visibility, one white hand
curled around the Eye, gritting his teeth to keep back the pain.  The
Archmage yelled in response and flung him away, straight down.  Oberon broke
many branches with his fall and hit the ground hard.  
	The Archmage floated downward.  He'd have to remember
that trick of Oberon's.
	A few branches obscured the blue body partially as he flew down
through the forest, and he blinked when he discovered that the body was not
there any longer.  
	He cast quick glance behind him, firing a blast that hit nothing but
trees.  
	"Where are you!" he growled, firing around himself in a circle.
	He did not notice as the ground where the body had been shimmered 
and suddenly the body of the Oberon became visible, unencumbered by the
illusion of the ground.
	A wave of Oberon's hand and the Archmage found himself unable to
breathe.  He gasped, clutching at his throat.
	"Overconfidence will be your undoing, little wizard." Oberon said
darkly, getting to his feet.  "You have two of our greatest creations
in your possession.  They do not belong to you.  Seperate them
from yourself, and we are minded to be generous.  We shall let you live."
	The Eye flared angrily, and the Archmage found himself able to lift
a hand, glowing with power and fire a blast that struck the tree over
Oberon's shoulder. 
	"Even your aim suffers now, wizard." Oberon said.  "Remove the Eye
and the Gahhhhhhh-!" 
	Winding branches had wrapped around the Fey Lord, holding him in
place.  The pressure eased on the Archmage's neck.  "So..." he coughed.  
"You are not the only master of the island."  
	He swallowed his words as Oberon looked over his shoulder and stared
at the tree, eyes flashing menacingly.  As apologetic as a tree could look,
it unwound it's branches.  Was this whole blasted island really alive?    
	"Now..." Oberon said. "If you are QUITE finished..."
	"Never!" snarled the Archmage.  "Storm!" 
	A minature windstorm appeared, swirling around Oberon's body and the
trees near him. It blew him off his feet, cape swirling, slamming him into
one tree after the other, snapping a few off at the base.  The Fey Lord
ended sprawled against a large rock, which had cracked in several places
from the impact.
	Oberon fought off the groan that threatened to escape him and stood 
up slowly.  He raised his arms and opened his mouth.  "The land knows it's
master, Archmage.  As do the creatures that call it home.
	"Bear and badger, fowl and beast, come you forth to kill and feast!"
	Owls and birds of all shapes and sizes came flying from the trees to 
rip and tear at the Archmage.  A mated pair of bears lumbered towards him
swatting him aside with their massive paws.  As he landed with a yell,
snakes reared up and sank their fangs into him.  He screamed, and foxes
nibbled at his legs even as a hundred rats ran forward and bit and tore
at his body. 
	Oberon looked downward grimly at the bloody spectacle then frowned as 
a weak call of "Stone!" sounded.  The animals instantly became statues and 
fell away as the Archmage reared up screaming, streaming blood from many
small wounds and blasting away.  
	He hurriedly wiped blood away that was dripping into his eyes and
peppered the Fey Lord with blasts, forcing him to throw up a magical 
shield that grew smaller and smaller with each blast.  "Tree!" he spat.
	Oberon grew alarmed as his limbs turned stiff and from his toes and
legs sprouted roots that sank into the ground.  "You..." he growled. "...are
powerful indeed..."  He closed his eyes and concentrated.  
	The Archmage shrieked in dismay as his transforming effect faded and
 Oberon opened his eyes once more.  The once white skin had faded to gray
and his hair had disappeared, the already prominent chin jutting out to near
impossible proportions. "What does it take to kill you!" 
	"You shall never find out." intoned Oberon.  "This grows tiresome. I
shall merely seek your defeat in your mind."
	Piercing black eyes sought the Archmage's brown ones and he stiffened
as he felt a powerful force batter at the defenses he'd erected in his mind,
tossing them aside almost effortlessly.
	The Eye glowed dully, and the Archmage began to think his only refuge
lay in the golden shield of metal on his chest, but he couldn't make his
will focus. 
	The last of his defenses fell away.  His mind lay open and ripe for
plucking.
	Then, as quick as it had gotten in, the foriegn prescence left him.
	Both opponents slumped to the ground.
	"You..." growled Oberon."  "YOU...!" he snarled again.  "You have
brought human magic within you!  You have...hurt me!  Contaminated
Avalon!" He rose to his feet, then rose higher, form towering over him,
above the trees.  "MORTAL!"  he boommed. "I send thee to The Dark!"
	The Archmage looked up weakly as the Lord of Avalon staggered over,
and swirled his cape once over him.  
	It was like being plunged into Antarctica.
	His blood nearly froze, his beard instantly growing icicles.  Colors
of all shades swirled before his eyes, unearthly howling drowned out his
ears, nearly shutting his brain down.
	He shut his eyes and tried to block out the sound, summoning all the
power he possessed, the Eye glowing hotly, keeping him alive.  His hand
grasped the Phoenix Gate weakly and the incantation rang out in his mind.  
	Magical energies jumped and surged wildy, interacting on different
planes of existence.  The ground was sundered open by the force of the
explosion.  The volcano nearby surged and smoke and lava exploded upward.  
Pieces of broken gargoyles rattled around the palace floor.  The sound was
deafining, and Titania clapped her hands over her ears and winced at the
pain inside her as the island was rocked to it's very core by the magic
being wrought. 
	"Go and report back what has happened!" she commanded the Sisters, who
bowed once and disappeared.  Demona and MacBeth stood silently.

*****

	The Lord of Avalon, Ruler of the Third Race, lay in a pitiful broken
heap one side of the 40 foot crater.  Trees for half a mile around were
broken apart like matchsticks, the ground scoured black.  He was weaker than
he had ever been.  His breath came in short gasps and his skin had darkened
to nearly black.  What was left of his robes hung off him in tatters, this
form's bones were clearly visible on his thin frame.
	He opened his eyes and tried to focus them.  He saw three pairs of 
feet floating in around him in a semi-circle.
	"Hand...Handmaidens..." he gasped out.  "Help me..."
	"Our poor Lord and Father..." sighed Luna.  
	"He has not even the ability to summon light." said Phoebe.
	"For one that relies on strength to rule," noted Selene.  "this cannot
be a good thing."
	"No...what..." Oberon said weakly.  He lifted a hand with gnarled
claws where his fingers once were.  "I command you..."
	"You cannot command a pixie now, Lord." Phoebe said quietly.  "We 
bid thee to be silent and die with dignity."
	"But...why..." The indomnitable will of Oberon surged forth one last
time and a feeble glow formed around the outstretched hand.
	"Because, Lord Oberon..." said Luna, taking the hand, and pressing it
to her bosom, absorbing the last of his magic without flinching.  "This
is as it should be.  Assassination.  It is how you came to rule, is
 it not?"
	"We merely wished to do so without sullying our hands." said Phoebe
solemnly.  
	"The others...stopyou..." gasped out Oberon, the hand falling to the
ground."
	"How will they know?" said Selene.  "You have just had the most
strenuous magical battle in your entire existence.  It will be
understandable that after ten centuries of living among mortals, you 
would be...rusty, as mortals put it."
	His breathing was becoming erratic.  The magic was fading fast,
dissipating within him.  His mind spiraled downward into the darkness.
His eyes closed.
	The Weird Sisters smiled gently at Lord Oberon.  The leaned down and
straightened his broken form, crossing his arms at his chest.  He had not
the strength to protest this mockery of dignity. 
	"Fare thee well, Lord and Father Oberon." they all spoke as one.  
	He couldn't hear them.

*****

	The Archmage opened his eyes weakly and sat up, biting back a cry as
broken ribs flared painfully.  Every breath was agony.  He touched his
forehead and winced as skin came away in his hand.  
	Then his memory came back.  He blinked his eyes.  He'd survived.
	His lips drew back, revealing yellowed teeth. He'd survived!
	He felt like dancing.  He swiftly turned his gaze back and forth,
seeking proof of his foes demise.  
	"Ahhhh..." he breathed.
	The three witches stood near.  
	He slowly got to his feet, grimacing in pain, nearly swooning. He'd
have to use the Eye on himself later.      
	"Is...is it done?" he gasped out.
	The Three said nothing, merly parted.
	He nearly whooped outloud as he saw the remains of the once mighty
Lord of Avalon.  Blackened skin drawn tightly over facial bones like a
gruesome mask was a work of art to him.  The eyes were gone, only empty
black sockets remained.  He cast out his senses weakly, and there was no
trace of magic to be found.  
	"I did it!" he smiled triumphantly.
	"Aye, you did, Archmage." said Luna.
	"You have defeated our Lord and Father Oberon." said Phoebe.
	"What shall you do now...Master?" asked Selene.
	"I...I..." the Archmage couldn't think.  Thoughts of sleep and world
domination flitted through his head.  
	"I need to rest." he gasped, staggering towards them.  "It appears
even I have limits."
	They nodded.  "You do." said one.  He couldn't tell which.
	"Take me to my palace." he commanded, collapsing into their arms.
	They held him up as if he weighed no more than a feather, their frames
nowhere near indicative of their strength.
	"No." said Luna.
	The Archmage looked up.  His two, now three eyes glowed faintly.  
"No? What do you mean, 'No'!"
	"You are done here, Archmage." spoke Phoebe.  She smiled sweetly 
at him.
	"We have no more use for you." added Selene. "You have served your
purpose."
	He started in fear as their eyes began to glow.  "What are you 
talking about!" he snapped, coughing blood and suddenly gasping in pain
as a rib poked him.  "I'll have you all turned into worms!"
	"Silly mortal." said Phoebe. "How arrogant.  You thought we needed
you for our vengeance.  We could have wiped out the Magus and his little
Princess with a thought."
	"It amused us that you thought to control us." said Luna.  So we
wondered just how far you could carry your desire for revenge."
	The Archmage blanched and silently began summoning his remaining
strength.
	"When you proved powerful enough to gather the Gate and the Eye
for yourself, we considered you might be powerful enough to challenge
Oberon." said Phoebe.
	"And you provided us with two children who will serve us as long as
their destinies allow." said Selene.  "We thank you for that.  They have so
much more to do in the mortal world."
	"Besides," added Luna.  "A mortal cannot be allowed control of 
Avalon, or the world.  You cannot have access to such power." 
	"No!" he shrieked.  "This...this cannot be..."  He groped blindly at
his chest for the Phoenex Gate, only to discover to his horror that it was
no longer there.
	"Looking for that?" said Luna, pointing with her head at the Gate that
lay next to Oberon.  "We removed it while you were still unconcious."
	"I still have the Eye!" he growled.  A flash of light threw the
Sisters away from him and he sank to one knee, trying desperatly not to 
pass out from the pain.  He was so tired...
	"A minor annoyance." glared Selene.   The other two linked and the
Archmage felt himself surrounded by a green glow, which he tried to fight
off, but as much power as the Eye gave him, it was not nearly enough.  
"No!" he shrieked as Selene came forward.  He felt himself held in place
while the Eye was gripped by the black-haired witch's hand.  Magical
lightning ripped through them both, as they cried out in pain before Selene
was flung backward, the Eye glowing hotly in her hand.  She groaned and
stood, grimacing, smoothing her robes.  
	"Fare thee well, Archmage." the all said in unision.  "It has been a
pleasure to be your servants." Luna smiled.
	"I still have the Grimorum inside me, fools!" he snarled. "When I
regain my strength, I'm going to...to..." Abruptly he felt a burning inside
his chest, which rapidly spread outward, magical fire broke through his
skin, tearing at his insides.  He screamed in agony.  "FOUL WITCHES!" he
shrieked.  "AHHHHHHHHHHH....!"
	The Weird Sisters watched as the Archmage was burned alive from the
inside by the human magic of the Grimorum Arcanorum. 
	"Well." said one.  "After ten centuries of planning, fruit is beared 
in mere minutes."  
	"That was really quite clever of him." another remarked.
	"A shame he didn't realize what would happen if the Eye was ever
removed." said Selene. 
	"Enough talk." said Luna.  "We must return, else our Queen will
become aware."
	"What do you think she will do?" asked Phoebe.
	"Rule more effectively than our Lord mayhap?" chuckled Selene.
	"Yes...and now, we will not have Oberon's law to interfere with
Fate's plans."
	"We shall have to be careful, sisters." warned Phoebe.  "Titania
will not be so easy to serve.  Or to plot against."  
	"As we say so often, sister...what is time, to an immortal?" said 
Luna softly.
	The Three vanished, mist mingling with the smoke curling up from the
remnants of the Archmage. 

The End