I walked out of the tube station and into this district of Towerblock, the roads were a bit wider than the others, the buildings in lots of various coloured stonework, masses of colourful flowers, bunting and décor covered the buildings, strings of lanterns were between the shopfronts and mixed apartment buildings about the streets. As I walked however, there was the strange sound of…honestly what sounded like an absurdly loud and cacophonous sounding clock, masses of bells, turning cogs and gears, softly shifting chains and fixtures that seemed to be coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. The intense smell of various spices, herbs and all sorts of scents filled my nose from the dozens upon dozens of street vendors I passed as I walked around.
“Excuse me…where is that clock sound coming from?” I asked someone who was doing a painting of this huge glowing softly purple willow tree, it was set into a circular planter in the middle of a roundabout, the huge sprawling branches adorned with strings of hanging lights, lanterns, and various softly glowing flowers.
“Oh, that’s the Bronze Peacock, our warlord is the owner and proprietor of it, he is a clockmaker and repairman, he is extremely kind, generous and beloved by everyone, he…he keeps us safe.”
“Warlord?” I questioned, “What…what is a warlord?”
“Ah, those eyes.” He said nodding softly, he was a very…very elderly man with four arms, long grey-white hair and a long beard tucked into a very paint smeared leather apron with pockets filled with all sorts of brushes, pallet knives and the various sort, one hand holding a very large pallet covered with signs of being very well used and loved by his painting by the masses of smears, colours and shades covering it as he captured the tree in…perfect detail, the painting even seemed to capture the glow. “Brand new to Towerblock, Seer?” he asked
“A bit.”
“The warlords are a very…very small species, all of them are the children of the most powerful archdemons in all of existence, the eldest of which is in his third century, they are in a group together called the Order of the Lords, they live by a creed to keep the world safe and protected from all sorts of threats. There are eight born of the older and most powerful of the archdemons who stand as magical protectors of all of the continents, the child of Asmodeus is the protector for Europe, however there are many more warlords, there are three who handle Europe on a smaller scale: one here, one in Spain and one in Russia, but from what I’ve heard around and on the news, the one from Russia has moved to the U.S.”
“And…everyone is okay with them like…interposing themselves as the leaders?”
“They leave all of the government alone, they just…well, for someone your age, it’s like they’re superheroes, they stay out of everyone’s business and if a threat to our world rises up, they take it down.” He said before his eyes flicked around before pointing, “Over there, see that perfume advert, the one with the man with the really curly black hair?” he asked
“That’s…a man?” I asked, he was pointing to a very large screen hanging on a building front showing a figure, thin, lithe, and dressed in a diaphanous gown of sheer purples for this very floral sculpted perfume bottle, this mane of kinky curled black hair around their head, covered in freckles, slightly gapped front teeth and…miss-matched eyes.
“That is Anthony Varga, he is the husband of the eldest of the warlords, his husband is the warlord of the top eight whom is not in charge of a continent.”
“What’s he in charge of then?”
“All of the world’s water.”
“How?”
“Well, he’s the son of Leviathan, incredible businessman from what I’ve seen about him online. You know the company 6V?”
“Of course, who hasn’t heard of 6V…they’re like this almost futuristic tech conglomerate and are considered like one the best companies for cleaning up the world.”
“Leviathan’s son is the C.E.O and founder of 6V.”
“What?”
“Now that your eyes are open, you’ll be able to see a lot more of him than he usually lets himself be seen with in photos if you see one. Anyways, down the main road…huge warehouse with all of this purple drapery and lights, Bronze Peacock, can’t miss it, that’s where our warlord is.” He explained
“…thank you”
“Anytime, all of us need to be there for our…estranged friends like yourself.” He said, “It’s rare that Seers are born knowing about the magical world, so many Seers go their entire lives without being opened up to this world.” He explained
“Bronze Peacock?”
“Can’t miss it.” He said
“Thank you” I said as I walked off and started walking down the street in the direction he pointed down towards. Part of me seemed very, very confused at hearing that these people that called themselves warlords have imposed themselves as not de facto superheroes of all of the continents, but there was also part of me that my mind was not that confused by. I just…kind of want to meet the person who has put themselves in charge of protecting my home.
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