Chapter Text
When the man in the black suit first entered the Lands, Aziraphale Fell was watching from the top of the sorcerer’s spelltower.
It was entirely coincidence that he saw it happen, of course. Out of thousands of guests currently in the park, his eyes fell on the one being let in through the special entrance where it was not necessary to pay. It was the work of a moment – what were the chances he would glance from his desk out the window at just the right time to see it? And yet, he did.
Were he a religious man, he might have called it divine intervention. Were he spiritual, he might have called it fate. Were he through-and-through the persona he projected to the world at large, he might have called it magic. Yes. He was comfortable with that.
But he figured, in this instance, he would simply call it what it was: an opportunity to have some fun.
Aziraphale Fell thrived on fun. It was the spark that kept the park turning, from the massive fake dinosaurs with their moving eyes to the haunted castle-slash-graveyard to the alien spaceship parked on the lawn of the superhero training academy. Everything was designed with a sort of childlike wonder that kept him popular in the press – not that he cared about popularity. All he wanted was for people to be happy, at the core of it. And he did make people happy.
The man in the black suit might prove more difficult to win over, he thought. But he was ready for it. He’d done his research, after all, into the man’s life and story. Seen his education, his résumé. Even found a childhood picture without the ever-present sunglasses, revealing honey-brown eyes.
Mine, he thought next, watching the flash of red hair make its way toward the tower. He didn’t know why, but he’d already decided – and once Aziraphale Fell staked a claim, it was never revoked. This handsome man would be won over by the Lands of Wonder. He would be won over by Aziraphale. And it would all happen by the end of the day. Of this, Aziraphale Fell was certain.
After all, what couldn’t be accomplished with a little bit of magic?
~*~*~*~
Anthony J. Crowley was not having a good day.
When he’d become a solicitor, he’d thought first, naïvely, of helping people. That had proved little more than a wild daydream. Settling into the real world, he’d at least come to appreciate the professional environment, the satisfaction of a clever argument, and the money. No, the paycheck didn’t hurt at all.
What he hadn’t expected, upon taking the job at Four Horsepersons Incorporated, was to be sent off for a day traipsing about a children’s park.
“Take this wristband to the bottom of the tower,” said the harried worker who guided him into the Lands. “They’ll let you up to see Mr. Fell.”
Crowley had questions, but it looked like the man had enough on his plate. He simply sighed and took the wristband in one hand, refusing to affix it to his wrist.
There was nothing for it. He set off through the Lands.
He was offered a map, but saw no point in taking it. The tower was easy enough to spot from anywhere in the park. Not to mention, he’d looked up a map online beforehand, and his memory was excellent. Though he’d never been here before, he knew them all: the Land of Adventure, the Land of Magic… of Mystery, Discovery, Nature, Thrills, and Inspiration. Seven in total, all connected around the sorcerer’s spelltower in the center. All owned by the well-known recluse Aziraphale Fell.
As he walked, Crowley carefully ignored the chaos around him (children dripping ice cream, roller coaster cars rushing past, fountains spraying water into the sky) to go over what he knew about the mysterious Mr. Fell. In his youth, when the park began, he’d been more open – more inclined to an interview, from which popular culture had gleaned a variety of inspirational quotes by an apparent genius. Fell had been affable, then, genuinely well-liked by both children and adults, before he began to disappear. These days he was rarely seen in public. Rumor held that his office sat at the very top of the spelltower, and the park worker seemed to have just confirmed it.
To get there, Crowley skirted the line between the Land of Thrills and the Land of Magic. Thrills held the bulk of the roller coasters, he knew that, along with a superhero training academy and God only knew what else. The website had shown the Land of Magic to involve unicorns and fairies and elves and wands and other such things that would have fascinated Crowley during the Tolkien phase of his youth. But he’d outgrown that by now. He had no children of his own, no partner, no one to come home to at night. There was nothing here for him.
Still, he paused for a long moment in front of a vendor selling magic wands.
There was a wide variety of choices. Some were long and silver and sparkly, with a shining star at the end; others were simple black plastic with white tips. His favorite (if he had to pick a favorite) were the wooden ones, coming in all shades and polished until they gleamed. He imagined they were the sort a proper wizard would have.
Not that he cared about proper wizards.
A sign above them explained that they could be used all around the Lands to make things happen, as if by magic (the sign didn’t say ‘as if’), and Crowley wondered briefly whether he could write it off as a business expense. But then a mother brushed by him, chasing after her child, and he came back to reality. Silly of him. There wasn’t time to daydream. Not anymore.
He made it to the tower without incident and showed his wristband at the base of the tower, where an employee opened a door that was set so well into the structure as to be nearly hidden.
They used a bloody magic wand to do it.
Crowley growled slightly as he moved past them and into the tower, where a young woman met him with a businesslike smile.
“You must be Crowley,” she said, and somewhere along the way she’d done her research – no Anthony, no Mr., just the way he liked it. “My name’s Anathema. I’ve made up your gift bag for you here – I didn’t want to risk it getting lost at the front. Go ahead and stand in this circle. It will bring you up to Mr. Fell.”
Quirking an eyebrow at her, he took the ‘gift bag’ and stood obediently inside the large circle drawn onto the floor. She waved the ID on her lanyard at a panel mounted beside the door, and suddenly there were transparent walls rising up out of the floor and surrounding him. It was roomy enough not to feel claustrophobic, and he noted with relief that he had his own control buttons on the inside of the curved wall – one set showed icons for raising and lowering the walls, while another was simply comprised of up and down arrows. As he watched, Anathema waved her ID again and the up arrow glowed.
The floor began to move.
He was in a lift.
Rising up the chute on its silver disc of a floor until Anathema was out of sight, Crowley couldn’t help a slight corresponding increase in heartrate. How had Fell’s engineers built this? It must have been relatively new – there was no way it had existed twenty years ago, when the park first opened, technology being what it had been. At what point had Fell decided to make the change? This part wasn’t even open to visitors, generally, and yet it was so…
He sidestepped the term magical even as the lift passed through several more levels and came to a halt with a sparkling sound effect.
Rather than disappearing completely, the transparent walls simply rotated until there was an opening in them the width of an ordinary door. Crowley stepped through it and –
He could see the whole park from here.
He walked up to the window and couldn’t help but stare. There was the haunted castle, and there was the alien spaceship, and there was some kind of enormous waterslide on the back of – was that a dinosaur? Thousands upon thousands of people, moving like worker bees, so small from all the way up here.
A throat-clearing behind him brought him back to the situation at hand. He turned and found…
He’d been prepared by pictures, of course. But Fell in person looked like something out of a storybook. He wore a tartan bowtie with a suit in varying shades of tan, including a waistcoat that was going a bit threadbare around the buttons. (Crowley had always loved waistcoats, but been told they weren’t ‘professional for his working environment.’)
Fell also had a fluffy mass of blond hair, wide eyes the color of an approaching storm, a cutely turned nose, and plush pink lips. Crowley quickly turned his eyes away from them, feeling as if he’d done something wrong in noticing.
“You must be Crowley,” said Fell – he’d also done his research.
There’d been nothing online to say how Fell preferred to be addressed. “Mr. Fell,” Crowley replied, and wasn’t corrected one way or another. He shifted his gift bag into the hand holding his briefcase in order to offer the other.
Fell took it, and Crowley could have sworn some small shock when through him at the very moment, emanating from that hand. Perhaps Fell really was a sorcerer. At any rate, the hand was soft, and Crowley oddly disappointed when the time came to drop it. “Truly a pleasure,” said Fell with a smile. “Now, would you like some tea?”
Crowley hesitated for just the slightest moment, picturing another meeting choking down tea and pretending to like it for the sake of his image in front of a client.
“Coffee?” asked Fell, with a knowing look, before he could accept.
This brought a smile to Crowley’s face. “Yeah. Yes. That would be – great.”
“Let’s see…” Fell made his way over to a machine that was set into the wall. There was very little in the way of mechanism, just one single nozzle and a touchscreen above.
Fell pressed a corner of the screen and an array of options appeared.
“I keep meaning to make this work with the wands, but I simply haven’t the time,” said Fell. “Now, have a look and decide what sort you’d like. The Dino Blend is a popular one, that’s a sort of pumpkin spice with apricot, but then there’s a fantastic black and white under the name Ghoulish Delight. I have to admit my favorite is the Witch’s Brew, that’s a hazelnut.”
Crowley selected the Witch’s Brew, which seemed to please Fell awfully much for a simple drink choice. Fell was watching him now as if he’d done the right thing, making some part of Crowley glow inside where he’d never quite lost his insatiable need to please others. “Double, double, toil and trouble,” Crowley muttered to distract himself.
This pleased Fell in its own way, though less of a predatorial gleam in his eye and more of a small smile. “I wanted to call it the Toil and Trouble, actually. I was informed in no uncertain terms that a ‘family audience’ would not get the reference.”
Crowley placed one of the provided cups under the nozzle and pressed down on the lever. The brew began to pour in. As Fell finished speaking, Crowley laughed. “Yeah, suppose I can see that. Not like there’s a Land of Shakespeare here.”
“Tempted as I’ve been,” Fell murmured.
Crowley laughed again. Was it supposed to be this easy to talk to him? This man was a titan of industry, richer than Crowley could even dream of and more brilliant than the next twelve Global 500 sods combined. Crowley had spent his fair share of time with charismatic billionaires, people who made you feel as if you were the only person that mattered for the space of time you were in their gaze. He’d learned to spot the fakes. Somehow, Fell felt different.
“Now, have you had the chance to look in your gift bag yet?” Fell asked.
Crowley started. He’d been staring. “Ah… no. Here, let me…” He set the briefcase down on the counter beside his coffee, although he’d had every intention of getting into the paperwork straight away. Then he began rummaging through the ‘gifts’.
“I procured a number of items from around the park to make your stay easier,” Fell said.
‘I’? Surely Fell meant he’d had his staff do it for him.
“There are a few objects in there that will control the RFID features of the park – what we call the Wondrous features. It’s silly, I know, but then what’s the point in life if you can’t be a little silly? There’s a superhero gauntlet, a dinosaur fossil, and a wand – they all function the same way. If you see this pattern…” He pointed to a spot on the wall where three diamonds of varying sizes made up a symbol, like sparkles. “You can wave your item and it will make something happen in the world. Some places you have to wave it in a certain motion, it’s all contextual.”
Indeed, Crowley soon found a gold-and-red metal gauntlet in his exact size and a fossil of a small footprint that felt like rock but surely wasn’t. Below it all, there was the wand.
It was one of the wooden ones. Exactly as he would have chosen it, had he been given the chance.
He’d been suppressing it all day, but it came now – the memory of the last time he’d begged his parents to visit a theme park, when he was twelve and they were going to be in the area for the first time in his life. Up until then, their excuse had been that it was too far to travel. But that day, it had changed. You’re too old for that nonsense now, his father had said.
Crowley hesitated.
He picked up the wand.
It was perfectly weighted in his hand, and he waved it at the symbol on the wall. He heard a faint noise behind him and turned to find the transparent walls of the lift receding into the floor.
“A circular motion puts the walls up and down,” Fell explained. “You can flick upwards or downwards to go up and down – of course that puts the walls up automatically if they aren’t already there, it wouldn’t do to have people falling out.”
“Are we at the top of the tower now?”
“Not quite, I’m afraid.” Fell brushed past the subject and continued on brightly: “So! Shall we go out and do some sightseeing?”
“Ah…” Crowley stumbled over his words, a rare occurrence. “Mr. Fell… I’ve all the paperwork right here. Perhaps we could begin discussing the deal –”
“Now, Crowley.” Fell’s eyes had gone – if not cold, then at least a little stern. It sent a shiver down Crowley’s spine, though not unpleasantly. “You have, I’m sure, heard that I am rather eccentric. I’m afraid I must insist we take a tour of the park before we get on to business. Call it one of my… eccentricities.” He tilted his head, considering. “And it wouldn’t hurt to get to know the property, would it? Before a deal of such magnitude.”
It wasn’t Crowley proposing the deal, it was his employers – Crowley’s only job was to get Fell to agree to as many of the stipulations as possible. Crowley’s knowledge of the property didn’t come into play…
Except that he could use it to manipulate Fell.
He swallowed sourly, ignoring the sudden pit in his stomach at the thought. It was what he was here to do, after all. “Of course,” he said. “Lead the way.”
This pleased Fell too, and he smiled in a way that somehow meant You agreed, just as I knew you would and Good job at the same time. Again, Crowley felt warm inside.
They had to stand closer than Crowley had been expecting to fit in the lift, though they did not have to touch. Still, Crowley imagined he could feel the heat of Fell’s skin where their hands nearly brushed. Fell nodded towards Crowley’s wand. Feeling silly, Crowley performed a circular motion, and surely enough, the walls begin to rise. A downward flick of the wand and they were moving.
“I promise there are fire exit stairs,” Fell said like a confession. “But I find this so much more enjoyable, don’t you?”
They reached the bottom level, where Anathema was nowhere in sight. As the walls receded, Fell indicated the gift bag once more.
“Oh, you should try out the lenses.”
Crowley pulled out a pair of glasses, holding them up. He wasn’t looking forward to removing his sunglasses to put them on instead – the sunglasses were his armor, as ridiculous as that sounded. He’d always seen them that way. Fell shook his head preemptively.
“No need to take off those lovely sunglasses. The lenses pop out, they’ll clip right on, let me show you –”
He took the frame from Crowley’s hand, skin touching briefly, and surely enough, the lenses popped out. He used the small clips on the side to affix them to the arms of Crowley’s glasses. The clipping mechanism itself was oddly thick, as if it contained some inner workings to which he was not yet privy.
“Now.” Fell’s eyes gleamed as he pressed the top of the clipping mechanism, which was evidently some sort of button. The world beyond the lenses glowed brightly for a moment before settling back to normal. “Let me show you some magic.”
They stepped outside.
And there was… magic.
Fairies zipped by in the air, and he suddenly felt a camaraderie with the children reaching up to try and catch them. The gryphon head on the sign of a nearby tavern turned its head and silently roared. A horse pulled a carriage down the cobblestone street, but with the lenses Crowley could see it was a unicorn, and with wings to boot (wasn’t there a word for that?).
Of course, he knew it was all the lenses. That didn’t make it any less astounding.
He turned to find Fell watching him with a thoughtful smile.
“Well?” Fell asked quietly. “What do you think?”
“It’s… I had no idea this was even possible,” Crowley managed.
“Augmented reality.” Fell reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small pair of his own spectacles, tinted blue in color. He put them on. “These are the master pair – they show me everything anyone else can see along with statistics, crowd movements, park data, and the like.” He examined Crowley closely and began to take them back off. “Would you like to see?”
In that moment, Crowley wanted that more than anything. It would necessitate taking off his sunglasses, which ordinarily he was loath to do, but the reward…
And besides, it would only be for a minute or two. His main motivation behind the sunglasses was to mask his eyes, which he’d been told gave away too many of his emotions. He made a terrible poker player. Not the best look for a solicitor, especially one on a mission to manipulate one of the world’s greatest men out of everything he had worked so hard to build.
Surely he could go without them for a minute.
He took the sunglasses off.
Fell’s smile was blinding, all the more so for not being shrouded beyond the dark lenses anymore. He handed the master pair to Crowley, their fingers brushing just slightly, making Crowley’s stomach swoop and fill up with something like champagne bubbles.
Fell stepped closer as he put them on. “Look through,” he whispered. And Crowley did.
Surely enough, it was all still there – the unicorn, the fairies, the gryphon. But each guest had a glowing dot where their wristband lay, and the sky was filled with a stream of colored lights moving back and forth like traffic. Several spots in the world had new displays visible beside them, and he realized they coincided with the diamond symbols – places where the wands could be used.
He reached out and saw that there was writing on his hands, along his fingers. As he moved them, the writing swirled and changed. The left pointer finger said Refreshments; he wiggled it and a menu appeared with a list of current pricing and ingredient availability around the park.
“This is…” he began but could not finish.
Fell rocked back on his heels, hands clasped together in front of him, looking deservedly a bit smug. “Amazing, aren’t they?”
“Did you make these?” Crowley asked in wonder.
Fell shook his head. “Oh, no, dear boy, not me.” (Dear boy? Crowley was sure he was blushing now.) “I did most of the design myself, but my team does the actual coding and manufacturing. I ask for what I want and they give it to me, essentially.”
Designing such a thing did not sound trivial to Crowley. Still, he imagined how nice it must be for Fell – to have the whole world at his fingertips, waiting to give him what he wanted.
Even Crowley felt the pull of it. But he couldn’t give in. His whole purpose today was not to give Fell what he wanted.
“You’re the sorcerer,” Crowley blurted, rather than anything that made sense. Fell regarded him curiously, and Crowley could practically feel his blush intensify. “I mean – the sorcerer’s spelltower. That’s you, isn’t it?”
“Not intentionally,” said Fell with a hearty laugh. “I always envisioned the sorcerer as a separate figure, one of my characters, if you will.”
“Then what does that make you? God?” The words could have been rude, but Crowley didn’t make them that way – he posed it as a serious question.
Fell seemed to take it seriously. “No, not that. One of Her angels, perhaps. I think I’d like that.”
“Bringing joy and miracles to the people?”
“Now you’ve got it.” Fell lifted his hands to Crowley’s temples and waited for a nod of permission before taking back possession of the master glasses. For a moment their eyes met, unguarded, and Crowley was magnetized there, unable to pull away. Out in the sunlight, Fell’s eyes had turned bluer, perhaps reflecting the sky.
He could have passed for an angel, Crowley thought in a daze. One of the highest angels – what were they called? The in-charge angels? Fell would have made a good one of those.
Their gaze broke for Fell to tuck the glasses back into his pocket, and Crowley re-donned his own sunglasses, still with the little augmented reality lenses clipped overtop.
“Perhaps we can start in the Land of Discovery,” said Fell. “I think that might be one of your favorites.”
“All right, then, angel,” replied Crowley with a mischievous grin, trying to take back some of the power of the conversation, not sure he wanted it anyway. “Lead the way.”
They passed a dragon on the way out, life-sized – an animatronic behind a low fence in its own grassy area, built into a gigantic nest and surrounded by its hoard of gold. Crowley had to flick up his lenses to convince himself that it was really there and not just another illusion.
Two children were waving wands at it, delighting in the way it blinked and moved its neck to look at them, raising and lowering one wing. Then they were called away by their parents.
Fell kept walking, presumably used to these sights. Crowley covertly waved his wooden wand in the direction of the dragon, which seemed to take note of him, turning his way.
Crowley returned to the path and found Fell stopped there, watching him, corners of his mouth flicked up in amusement.
“Try a spiral pattern,” he suggested.
Crowley did so and was amazed when a burst of smoke came billowing out of the dragon’s nostrils, along with a low growl of a sound effect.
“It means she likes you,” said Fell through a grin.
“Ha!” Startled, Crowley accidentally said the truth: “That doesn’t happen very often.”
“Really?” Fell’s eyes scrutinized him, and even behind the sunglasses, Crowley felt exposed. “I can’t imagine why,” said Fell finally.
I’m a solicitor, thought Crowley. And I’m grumpy and rude and blunt and I hate fun, apparently, and all I do is ruin people’s lives.
Like I’m about to ruin your life.
But he didn’t say any of that aloud. He just followed Fell, off through the cobblestone paths past the elven court, heading for the Land of Discovery.