Alternate Dimension Chapter 2: The Other Sanctuary

2.

THE OTHER SANCTUARY

Zathract reflected on his situation silently as Sparky Braginksi took his weapons and other possessions and handcuffed him with the same kind of shackles he had used only a few hours previously. It seemed a much longer time than it was from his perspective.

Zathract did not much find it unnerving that he was being arrested, but much more so to have it done by Sparky. The situation would have been almost laughable, if it were not for the fact that he actually was being arrested.

Sparky grabbed the handcuffs with one hand, his shoulder with the other, and pushed him towards the small building, none too gently. Zathract walked along obediently, hating the feeling of his magic ebbing just out of his reach. He had no idea what to do. If he was locked in a Sanctuary cell, one even similar to the ones back in his dimension, then everything would be over. His magic would be of no use to him. He didn’t have any weapons anymore and if Sparky Braginski of this reality did not know him then he’d bet that none of his other friends would.

Zathract glared at the small building they were approaching and tried to think of a way to get out of this. Begging and pleading wouldn’t do anything if this Sparky was the same as the one he knew. He was not one to do these things anyway, though. Explaining would take too long and she may mistake him or someone insane anyway.

“Tank?” he tried feebly as she pushed him forwards across the gravel. He felt her frown from behind but she didn’t pause and Zathract muttered. “I thought not…” They continued walking and Zathract continued thinking, but nothing much else came to him.

They reached the small building and Sparky opened the door, pushing him inside after it. The inside was dimly lit by a dull, green light and held nothing but two Cleavers standing guard and a staircase leading down. Zathract took a quick moment to examine the Cleavers. They were dressed in much the similar outfits to the Cleavers he knew, but these uniforms had elegant black additions to the white. On the arms and legs, two thin black lines, and fatter ones that formed a basic pattern on their torso. Their scythes were slightly more sinister-looking and even in the dim light Zathract could see the large muscles of their bodies.

And then Sparky shoved him towards the staircase. Getting slightly fed up with all the shoving, Zathract took a larger step forwards and almost made Sparky stumble on the first step.

“Don’t,” she growled.

“Merry Christmas,” grunted Zathract automatically.

“What?” Sparky’s anger was suddenly very clear through her voice and she stopped walking.

“Oh good, you’re responding to this one,” he said. Sparky pushed him against the wall and faced him, glaring.

“Explain,” she said. “Who are you?”

“It’s kind of a long story,” Zathract said, not sure where to start. Sparky shook her head slightly, then grabbed his shoulder again and pushed him further down the stairs.

They walked down the next corridor and turned left, away from the larger room that housed many more adjoining corridors, all of which were properly lit. This new one they were walking down, however, was dark and dirty.

“Are we going to the prison cells?” Zathract asked as he heard low mutterings from the walls to either side of them. “I don’t really like prison cells… Especially since I haven’t actually done anything wrong.”

“You entered the Sanctuary through illegal means,” Sparky replied harshly. “You’re obviously a sorcerer, and as such you should know how to access the public branch of the Australian Sanctuary. That entrance is an access point only for Sanctuary Official.”

“See, I kind of am a Sanctuary Official,” said Zathract. “Not from here, but I’m still a qualified official.”

“You’re foreign?” asked Sparky.

“In a way…” Zathract muttered darkly. “Listen, could I just speak to the Grand Mage please? Or a high ranked official?”

“I’m a high ranked official,” Sparky said. “So explain to me. What the hell are you talking about? You didn’t have any Sanctuary Identification on you when I took the rest of your things.”

“That’s because where I’m from, we don’t need identification,” said Zathract.

“How?” she asked. “Every Sanctuary in the world requires staff to have identification on them.”

“Not where I come from,” he shrugged.

“And where do you come from?” asked Sparky.

“Not here,” said Zathract. “You’re a high ranked official, you said? What’s your position exactly?”

“I don’t see why I should tell a prisoner this,” Sparky retorted.

“So we are headed for the cells then…” he sighed.

“Explain,” she repeated. “Why did you say those things before? How did you know about my reactions to them? Who are you?”

“Tell me what I wanted to know first,” Zathract persisted. “Then, maybe I’ll tell you.”

Sparky paused. Then,

“I’m an Elder,” she said. “That should be a high enough rank of authority for you. Now explain.”

But unfortunately, Zathract was incapable of explaining anything from then on, for the moment Sparky had answered, he had burst out laughing.

Along the way to his cell, Sparky had tried to get him to talk again, but all attempts failed, and no amounts of cursing or threatening or swearing made a bit of difference. Finally, Sparky stopped walking and put Zathract in a headlock before tapping two symbols engraved on the wall with her free hand.

He stopped laughing slowly as the wall opened up and revealed a small musty room with no light and a thin steel platform, presumably for sleeping. There were no windows, no bars. A small, empty space where Zathract was now supposed to occupy.

“Brilliant,” he nodded. “Lovely.” Sparky hit his back to shut him up, unlocked his handcuffs and shoved him into the room.

“You’ll be in there until the others Elders reach a decision on what to do with you,” she said.

“So you really are an Elder?” Zathract asked, fighting not to start laughing again.

“I am,” she said stiffly.

“That’s priceless,” he said. “You know, the Sparky Braginski that I know would probably be hitting you right about now, if she knew you took up this job.”

She frowned. “How do you-?”

“I know everything,” Zathract nodded.

“You’re annoying,” muttered Sparky.

“Just trying to keep positive,” he replied. “Considering I’m about to be locked in a wall, I’m not doing too badly. Why did you become an Elder, by the way?”

“I-”

“Where are your robes?” asked Zathract. “Why aren’t you wearing your robes? Don’t you have to?”

“I’m going to go now…” Sparky said, still frowning, and she tapped a symbol again.

“Oh, Sparky!” he called after her as the walls begun to close on the exit. “There’s a Witch clinging to your leg, by the way!”

He saw her face become even further confused just as the walls closed and he grinned.

Zathract Mist was trapped in an alternate dimension where his friends didn’t know who he was, where he was currently being held in a wall-cell-thing of the Sanctuary and had just been arrested by Sparky Braginski.

Was it bad that he was almost enjoying himself?