S1E5 Daywalkers
COLD OPEN
ST. AUGUSTINE, FLORIDA
As evening fell upon the city, focus shifted. Certain businesses closed, others opened, but most stayed the same. And as most of its residents turned in, one woke up.
Bill just considered it another night job, just a little less... normal. He assured himself as he slowly got himself out of his pile of sheets he called a bed and put on some clothes before putting on some sort of ceremonial collar. And after grabbing some keys, a jacket, and a pair of gloves; he headed off.
The sun was beginning to set as he entered Tolomato Cemetery. Keys in hand, he unlocked a small building and descended a spiral staircase. There, he entered a stone cavern lined with coffins. He opened the one nearest him, revealing a sleeping vampire.
"Wake up, it's night." Bill smacked the coffin side and its undead resident stirred and awoken. He then began doing the same to the others, before arriving at a finely ornated coffin resting on a platform.
Bill approached the coffin slowly. This one was different. He donned a pair of thick leather gloves before opening to be graced with a large chomp on his hand.
"You done?" The vampire yawned and looked up at Bill, unamused.
"Yes," the vampire rose dramatically from his coffin while Bill rolled his eyes. "Now go forth, my Daywalker, and bring your master his sustenance;" he said in a dramatic flair that showed that he was trying way too hard to seem intimidating.
"As you wish, Aelfric West." Bill gave a noticeably shallow bow and headed off. On his way out, muttering to himself:
"I swear to Jesus, one day I'm gonna stake everyone on this hole."
The Theme Song, a glorious merging of John Williams and Ron Wasserman, plays.
ARCHMAGE
Created by Seth Campbell
DAYWALKERS
Written by Seth Campbell
PART ONE
Once again, Amos was taking an exam. Even after studying like crazy, he found that fighting ghosts was easier than Algebra.
But in all seriousness, Amos felt assured that he knew what he was doing. And while he <i>did</i> find that magic came more easily to him, at least math followed a strict set of rules. He could at least appreciate that.
After a few headache-worthy problems, he gave the professor his test and headed off, not really looking forward to the break. Maybe he would take a few jobs to take his mind off it.
Back beneath the cemetery, Aelfric, now donned in a black and red smoking jacket, read the previous day's newspaper as Bill entered with a big rusty chalice filled with blood. He kept a straight face as he put it on the table next to Aelfric. It wasn't easy.
"Ah," the vainly spoony vampire put the paper down before taking a large sip, overdramatically as usual.
Bill didn't know how much more of this he could take.
"You know Bill," Aelfric turned to face his Daywalker, swearing and face-palming in his head. "I have not had a formidable opponent in many years." Bill regretted the pact he made. (More than usual) "I feel that I have found one."
Bill looked back as Aelfric threw his paper down on the table. On its cover was a picture of a man in a cloak and goggles. The headline read Mysterious Archmage Seen.
"There," he tapped the page. "Here is my opponent; truly a worthy foe."
Amos took it back. He may suck at math, but failure didn't result in being dragged bodily down St. George Street by a poltergeist. No amount of cramming could prepare him for this.
After yet another failed attempt to rein it in using only the magic rope he tended to favor, he pushed his feet against the street and clung for dear life. Holding himself together, he focused and became firmy attached to both the ground and the rope. The poltergeist almost immediately flung back towards him. Amos changed his stance and beat the poltergeist to who knows where upon contact.
In hindsight; this was far easier, and more fun.
The breakfast rush at the local café was well over, giving Amos, Tom, and Ellen plenty of peace and quiet.
"Early dinner, late breakfast;" Amos started. "When I said we're old, I thought I was joking."
"For my mom, this is considered early." Tom grinned to the casual boredom of Amos.
"Eh, I'm just looking forward to seeing my family." Amos put his fork down and face-palmed in response to Ellen's statement.
"I for one, am not looking forward to seeing my family."
"Dude," Amos looked up at Tom. "They can't possibly be as bad as you think, unless they're in the Klan." Tom paused for a moment. "Are they in the Klan?"
"No," Amos seemed unphased. "They're just very southern, very conservative, and very douchey."
"I'm just worried about my Civ exam." Tom got back to attacking his omelet.
"I only have Comp left." Amos chugged his soda. "I'm pretty confident."
PART TWO
For some reason, Composition was called College Writing at Flagler. But there wasn't much else different. The exam was simple enough, for Amos at least: a multiple choice part about grammar, and a basic research paper to be turned in.
As he turned in his essay, (about the complete lack of civility in modern politics) he felt something. Curious, he looked out the classroom window facing the adjacent park.
Standing in the West Lawn, Amos found Bill waiting for something. Very quickly, he realized what it was he was sensing. This guy spent an unusual amount of time among evil magic. And with that Mafia wizard dude gone, he was curious who could be feeding this guy his magic.
Amos quickly realized the guy was waiting for him. Not wanting to disappoint, he headed out of the classroom and for the stairs. He was getting weird looks from his professor and the other students anyway.
Back outside, Bill moved from in front of the classroom window to the gazebo. Looking down at a plaque with something pointless on it, he waited for the Archmage.
He didn't have to wait long.
To the notice of surprisingly nobody, Amos strode towards the Daywalker, in getup.
"Heh," Bill laughed at Amos's clothes. "You look ridiculous. You know if someone sees you-"
"Nobody will," Amos grinned. "As far as anyone's concerned, we're not even here."
Bill looked at Amos and then at himself, realizing quickly that they both were invisible to others. This interested him deeply.
"Whatever," Bill looked back at Amos. "Aelfric West, Vampiric Prince of the Ancient City demands your presence." Amos was set back a bit at just the sheer boredom that emanated from Bill's face.
"Okay..."
"He demands your presence now." Bill suddenly got really serious, really fast. "Like, <i>right</i> now."
Amos paused for a moment, still uneased about the notion of vampires, but he decided he could take this Aelfric without difficulty.
"Alright," Amos gestured generally towards the Student Center. "Where do you want me to go?"
"Follow me." Bill yawned as he began to walk north past Markland House and the old Presbyterian church. Amos followed, with morbid curiosity, and then chuckled at the pun.
Amos followed Bill up Sevilla Street before cutting through Saratoga and some old dude's yard until they reached the old cemetery.
"This way," Bill was beyond bored as he guided Amos to a small tin shack near the edge and after unlocking the door, led Amos down the spiral staircase and into the cavern.
"Nice place ya got here," Amos quickly noticed the coffins that lined the edges. "Just take that wall out here, a new paint job, get rid of whatever makes you stick to this last step."
"My master does not want an interior decorator," Bill got really serious, really fast. "He demands an Archmage!" Amos almost actually took him seriously.
His internal quippage was cut short as Bill lead him to a door. Behind it, they arrived in a small circular room that to Amos seemed to be a <i>gothic café</i>.
"Archmage," Bill turned around and stood directly in front of Amos before he could notice anything else. "It is my... pleasure to introduce you to my master: Aelfric West."
Bill stepped aside to reveal his master to Amos. Aelfric rose from a small iron chair next to an old café table and extended his hand towards Amos.
"Young Archmage," he then gestured to a second chair by the table. "Please have a seat." Amos, with half caution, joined Aelfric at the table.
"So," Amos was never good at breaking the ice. "Whad'you want?"
"I wanted to talk." Aelfric leaned forward slightly, still to the minor worry of Amos. "I haven't spoken with an Archmage in so many years."
"Well, I only became the Archmage a few months ago," Aelfric's eyebrows shot up. "And I haven't really bumped into anyone in your or my... ballpark, or something."
"The world of magic is abundant with life, or..." Aelfric gestured to himself. "Not... life." During that last part, his voice shifted from a Lestat wannabe to that of just a regular guy, to the shock of Amos.
"Well the problem for me is that Warren didn't really tell me much aside from how to do magic."
"Really?" Aelfric had completely dropped the masquerade. "Every time I met an Archmage, they had received extensive training and education before being vested with the Mantle of Archmage."
"I guess Warren just wanted to do things differently." Amos was starting to doubt Warren's decision-making. "I'm having to figure out my job on my own."
"Ah, the Mantle of Archmage," he seemed to almost be nostalgic. "Nam-Memudugal." Amos didn't understand what Aelfric was talking about, but he guessed since Aelfric must be super old, he would hear a lot of stuff he didn't understand.
"By the way, could you kill this one vampire for me?"
"What?!" Amos didn't see that coming one bit.
"There's this guy in Palencia, real dick. The guy sucks, and not in the 'normal' way, either." Amos was still too dumbstruck to take this in.
"Wait, why would I kill someone. Is he dangerous, or something?"
"Not really, I just don't like him." Aelfric was now just dripping with pure smug.
"Then why the crap would I take orders from you?" Amos got enough of this garbage from his parents; he didn't need more of it. "In fact, as the Archmage, you should be listening to me."
"I know, but since you were so uninformed, I thought I could get you to do my dirty work."
"You're a real asshole. You know that, right?"
"Well then," Aelfric slowly started to lean towards Amos in preparation. "I guess you'll just have to die."
"Wait, what?" Aelfric immediately lunged at Amos over the table before getting a face full of his staff. The energy of the impact caused a small pocket sized explosion, sending both of them backwards away from each other.
Before Aelfric could do anything more, Amos was gone.
"Daywalker!" He turned to Bill, who had only now stepped out of the background. "Wake the others; I don't want to be surprised."
Amos returned to his dorm to be greeted with the image of Tom packing his stuff away.
"Oh yeah, I forgot." Amos realized he forgot that dorms had to be cleaned out by the next day at noon.
"Thankfully this stuff ain't goin' far, unlike your crap." Amos knew that Tom lived nearby, but he never asked exactly where.
"Excuse me?" Both Amos and Tom looked around to find an older African-American woman with a surprisingly warm smile. "I heard a young upcoming artist lived here." She casually walked inside up to a box of Tom's art supplies. "Could you tell me where I could find him?"
"Hi mom," Tom rolled his eyes and smiled. His mom picked up the box of art supplies.
"You almost done?" She then looked at Amos. "Oh, you must be Amos." She briefly tried to shake his hand before realizing she was carrying a box. So instead, they shook elbows.
"Tom's told me much about you." Amos very quickly began to blush.
"I find that surprising," Tom noticed that Amos was suddenly trying to hide his accent. "Since there isn't much about me to talk about." His odd pronunciation of isn't was more than enough to get his friend's mom's attention.
"Are you trying to hide your accent?" Tom's mom was blunt. Growing up on West King Street did that.
"Yeah," Amos knew better than keeping up a masquerade after being found out. "I'm from Georgia, the south part." Amos finished the sentence in his real accent; deep and thickly southern. Tom hadn't even ever heard it.
"Oh," Tom's mom seemed interested. "Savannah?"
"Fort McAllister," he decided to not tell her the fort was Confederate, although he could tell she could guess. "It's just off of Richmond Hill in the middle of nowhere."
Tom's mom shrugged and nodded before taking the box of Tom's stuff down to her car. They both got to packing.
"Your mom's nice," Amos started to stuff his things into a large military-style bag. "Way nicer than my folks," He then began to tackle the insanity of dismantling the mess of chords connecting his PC to the wall.
"Hey," Tom unplugged his Mac before turning to Amos. (His peripherals were wireless) "How was your date with Mr. Sparklepants?" Amos rolled his eyes at the tween romance joke.
"First, you're not funny; second, it sucked... bad." Amos grimaced as he pulled out his computer's main console, with its chords trailing along like limp and flaccid tentacles. "Dude asked me to kill a guy for him and tried to bump my ass off."
"Damn," Tom stuck his computer back in its original packaging. (He held on to it just for situations like this) "He does suck. Whad'ya gonna do, kill him?"
"I dunno, maybe..." He remembered the coffins lining the wall. "It wouldn't be easy."
"What wouldn't be easy?" Amos and Tom turn around to find his mom reentering to help with the packing.
"Some guy giving me crap." Amos was old enough to know that saying "nothing" only invited trouble. "I don't know how to deal with him."
"Hmm," she looked upward in contemplation while picking up Tom's computer. "Well I always try to stay on top of things and snuff out problems, but that's just me." Amos thought about that before lumping more of his crap in a bag.
"Also listening to good music helps you get stuff done." That last note sparked an idea within Amos's brain cells. He knew what to do.
PART THREE
That night, Amos crept through the cemetery, clad in his cloak and towing a bag of stuff. He stopped short of near the shack, now guarded by Bill and some other vampire.
Expecting this, Amos snuffed out their lanterns from a distance. Rather quickly, they assumed some sort of a battle stance, implying that they were expecting this as well. Amos improvised and bound them to the fence, more than a hundred feet away.
Not wasting any time, Amos rushed towards the shack and once inside, carefully jumped down the staircase. Once down, he removed his bag and emptied its contents: stakes and an mp3 player. He strapped the player to his arm, and put the ear buds on before entering the main chamber and pressed play.
The two vampires guarding the door were slammed into the walls by Amos's dynamic entry. And with the Buffy theme blasting into his ears, he made short work of the two with stake and staff.
Any and all vampires that were in the chamber weren't for long. Even though he had only two stakes, Amos was able to just draw them back into his hand or even having it zigzag between many of them.
His magic made dispatching the things almost too easy, but any boredom was prevented with the awesome music. After only a few minutes, he couldn't find any more vampires to kill. He thought there weren't that many.
Content, Amos turned around to be greeted with Aelfric standing less than a foot in front of him, brandishing a sword.
"Oh crap," Aelfric slowly pressed the tip of his sword against Amos's throat.
"You should have listened to me, Archmage." He shuddered in very disturbing pleasure. "Unfortunately, you will not live to-"
Aelfric's asinine speech was interrupted by a wooden stake poking out of his chest. As he somehow started to become even more pale than he was, Amos looked over him to see Bill holding the stake. Before Amos could even process what just happened, Bill made a break for it, leaving his former master to crumble to dust in Amos's arms.
After a good night's sleep and a much needed shower, (after the obvious) Amos loaded the last of his random crap into his truck. His dad gave him his old pickup when he graduated High School, even though he hated the damn thing. Tom had left earlier that day. After making sure that everything was secure and tied down in the back, he headed off. The trip home would take over two and a half hours. Thank God the radio still worked.
THE END