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  • #4814

    Evangeline rolled her eyes, which was almost as tiresome as Funly explaining the joke, rendering it pointless.

    #4759

    While she was posing for Maeve’s sketches this first afternoon before the Landlady’s theatrical entrance, Arona had felt her usual distrust towards strangers melt.

    Her magical senses told her she could trust this girl. Maeve herself seemed still a bit on the fence, as though she was guarding a heavy secret, but she seemed to have moments of unexplained boldness and was not shy to engage either.

    Without thinking twice, Arona had drawn her key out, and produced it in front of Maeve’s almond shaped eyes.

    “Something tells me this is familiar to you; me and my friends are looking for what it is locking away.”

    Maeve initial reaction was shocked and her composure seemed to be shaken for a moment.

    Mandrake, be nice to Maeve!” Arona called, as the cat had jumped on Mave’s lap and was starting to pur.

    “Don’t worry, I’m going to relax this precious moppet.” he replied back in purring meows only Arona could understand. “I heard that’s what cats do in this dimension when they don’t sleep.”

    Maeve replied “Don’t worry, I quite like animals, he seems well behaved too. And he’s so cute with his tiny boots.”

    Only momentarily distracted, and mildly relaxed by the cat’s purring, Maeve asked “how did you come by this key? It was not supposed to be found. I don’t know what it’s supposed to open, I suspect it was a fail-safe for my uncle, and I hid them in my dolls for safe-keeping.”

    “Them?” Arona asked, rather as a validation to herself.
    “As you suspected. There are more.” purred the cat harder.

    Maeve leaned in close, almost dropping her sketchbook’s coloured pencils on the floor, “I think some bad people are after it. I suspect that my Uncle sent me those tickets to Australia so I could retrieve this one before the bad people arrive to snatch it.”

    She jumped a little, realizing too late. “Wait? You don’t seem to be one of them… But what about all these other guests?”

    #4732

    The day was young, and Mandrake was enjoying playing the cat in the Inn.
    Besides the benefit of unrepentant naps, what best way to be undercover in a dimension where talking cats where unheard of. His boots had been a subject for a casual chat during the breakfast, but he managed to get away with them, thanks to Arona’s quick wits who had explained he had sensitive paws.
    Some of the other guests at the Inn were a bit curious though, too curious.
    He’d almost jumped to rip his face off, when the Canadian guy asked whether it wouldn’t be best to have him neutered. Luckily, years of dealing with humans and dragons had left him with a patience for these types of shenanigans, even tolerating a pat or two on the head.

    The maid-who-wasn’t-a-maid was another story, she seemed to fear him, and chased him with a broom when he was wandering in the morning, looking for clues as to the key.
    While he was napping in a corner of the main hall on a dusted shelf near a silly looking fish, he had spotted a suspicious old man who had sneaked in and had done some business in a locked hangar before leaving. Maybe the man knew about the three words engraved on Arona’s key.

    doctor.experiences.funk

    #4718

    “Tsk tsk,” said Rukshan when he heard that the carpenter hadn’t done anything yet.
    “At least the joiner came and fixed the mirror in the bathroom,” said Fox trying to sound positive.
    They were in the kitchen and Glynis was brewing a chicken stew in Margorrit’s old purple clay pot.
    Fox seemed distracted with saliva gathering at the corner of his mouth. Rukshan realised it was not the best of places to explain his plan with all the smells and spells of Glynis’ spices.
    “Let’s go outside it’ll be best to tell you where we are going,” said Rukshan.
    Fox nodded his consent with great effort.

    “If you go out, just tell Olli to bring in more dry wood for the stove,” said Glynis as they left.

    They took the Troll’s path, a sandy track leading in the thick of the forest.
    “Are you sure we’ll find him there?” asked Rukshan.
    “Trust me,” said Fox pointing at his nose.
    “I thought you had abandoned the shapeshifting and using your fox’s smelling sense?”
    “Well if you want to know, Olli is quite predictable, he’s always at the Young Maid’s pond.

    “I realise I haven’t seen the lad in months,” said Rukshan.
    Fox shrugged. “He’s grown up, like all kids do.”

    They arrived at the pond where Olli was sculpting a branch of wood in an undefinable shape. Rukshan had almost a shock when he saw how much little Olli had changed. He was different, almost another person physically. Taller and with a man’s body. It took the Fae some time when he had to tell himself that the person in front of him was the boy that had helped them in the mountain. But Rukshan was not the kind to show many emotions so he just said.

    “You’ve grown boy.”
    Olli shrugged and stopped what he was doing.
    “I’ve heard so,” he said. “She wants more wood?”
    “Yeah,” said Fox with a knowing grin.
    “Okay.”
    Olliver sighed and left with supple movements.

    When the young man was gone, Fox turned towards the Fae, whose eyes seemed lost in the misty mountains.
    “So, what is the plan?”
    “I’m thinking of a new plan that shall make use of everyone’s potential and save a young man from boredom.”

    #4713

    Tak didn’t like school at first. It was only at the insistance of Glynis that he had to socialize that he tried to put some effort in it. He didn’t know what socializing meant, one of these strange concepts humans invented to explain the world, but if Glynis thought highly of this socializing, he had to give it a try, whatever it was.

    Rather quickly, he’d managed to make friends. He didn’t realize it at first, but his new friends were all a bit desperate, and more or less called freeks or something. He wasn’t sure he deserved to be called a freek, but he was going to try hard at this too.
    “You don’t have to try hard”, his new friend Nesy told him “I think you’re a natural at this.” Nesy’s name was really Nesingwarys which is really hard to pronounce, so she told him to call her Nesy. She had dark and white hair, shining like a magpie’s feather coat, and dark blue eyes that were both kind and ferocious at the same time.

    “Don’t mind the others, they’re all ignorant peasants, or worse, ignorant spawns of the bourgeois elite.” She’d told him. Tak had opined silently, not wanting to show that he wasn’t sure about the meaning of all the shiny new words. He suspected Nesy to like shiny words like magpies were attracted to precious shiny stuff.
    When she was staying at the cottage, Margoritt also liked to teach him shiny new words, but he would only taste them and forget — to him they were more like sweet food for his tongue than shiny stuff to keep.
    When it came to stuff, Nesy had rather simple tastes. She showed him some little clay statues she’d made, and kept carefully wrapped in a small felt satchel. They had all sorts of funny faces, she was really talented. They reminded him of Gorrash, so it almost made him cry.
    Tears were a magnet for nasty kids, so he knew better than to let them out, but Nesy had noticed, and squeezed his hand for comfort.

    He liked the other freeks too. They seemed to understand him, and he didn’t have to use his hypnotic powers for that. Glynis had told him not to use his powers at school, otherwise he wouldn’t learn anything. Aunt Eleri had disagreed with that, but she disagreed with everyone.

    “You should come visit at my home” he said to her spontaneously “I want to show you the baby snoots, now they’re almost grown up, but they look funny and pretty, especially when they eat Glynis’ potions.”

    #4687

    Ric was confused as to why he found himself flushed and vaguely excited by Bossy Mam’s sudden and attractive outburst.
    He was so glad the two harpies were off to goat knows where, or they would have tortured him with no end of gossiping.

    Still troubled by the stirring of emotions, he looked around, and almost spilled the cup of over-infused lapsang souchong tea he had prepared. Miss Bossy was the only one to fancy the strong flavour in a way only a former chain smoker could.

    Thankfully, she was still glaring at the window, and while he had no doubt he couldn’t hope to give her the slip for that sort of things, she probably had decided to just let it go.

    He took the chance to run to the archives, and started to dig up all he could on the Doctor.
    Sadly, the documents were few and sparse. Hilda and Connie were not known for their order in keeping records. Their notes looked more like herbariums from a botanist plagued with ADHD. But that probably meant there were lots of overlooked clues.

    He flipped through the dusty pages for a good hour, eyes wet with allergies, and he was about to bring Miss Bossy the sorry pile he had collected when a light bulb lit in his mind.

    How could I miss it!

    He’d never thought about it, but now, a lot of it started to make sense.

    Thinking about how Miss Bossy would probably be pleased by the news, he started to become red again, and hyperventilate.

    Calm down amigo, think about your abuela, and her awful tapas,… thaaat’s it. Crème d’anchovies with pickled strawberries… Jellyfish soufflés with poached snail eggs on rocket salad.

    His mind was rapidly quite sober again.

    Taking the pile of notes, he landed it messily on the desk, almost startling Miss Bossy.

    “Sorry for the interruption, M’am, but I may have found something…”
    “Fine, there’s no need for theatrics, spill it!” Miss Bossy was ever the no-nonsense straight-to-business personality. Some would have called her rude, but they were ignorants, and possibly all dead now.

    “There was a clue, hidden in the trail of Hilda’s collection. I’m not sure how we have missed it.”

    “Ricardooo…” Miss Bossy’s voice was showing a soupçon of annoyance.

    “Yes, pardon me, I’m digressing. Look! Right here!”

    “What? How is it possible? Is that who I think it is?”

    “I think so.”

    They turned around to look across the hall at Sweet Sophie blissfully snoring.

    “I think she was one of her first patient-slash-assistant.”

    “How quaint. But, that explains a lot. Wait a minute. I thought none of his patients were ever found… alive?”

    “Maybe she outsmarted him…”

    They both weren’t too convinced about that. But they knew now old Sweet Sophie was probably unwittingly holding the key to the elusive Doctor.

    #4669

    In reply to: The Stories So Near

    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      Why does Arona have a key?

      Note: I am keeping this very simple. TRACY DID YOU READ THIS HELPFUL STUFF I DID FOR ERIC?

      Background story to the dolls: already supplied in Maeve’s comment to Lucinda explaining about her Uncle Fergus giving her the instructions to send the keys, via dolls, to certain addresses. Maeve doesn’t know why.

      Lucinda bought a doll from the market. How did it get there we want to know?

      This is how:

      One of the addresses on the list provided by Uncle Fergus was Bert’s address. Bert is mysterious. We don’t know much about him. We do know he refused to remortgage the house and maybe this is why.

      Aunt Idle opened the parcel for Burt out nosiness. She is very nosy. She fell in love with the doll and decided not to mention it to Burt. Even when he said, “I don’t suppose there’s been any mail for me?”

      TSK TSK

      Finly, who is still working there, came along and found the doll and thought it was “awful rubbish and dirty” and put it in the charity pile.

      The doll was purchased by a lady for her daughter. They were tourists in Australia. They took the doll with them to (wherever it is that Lucinda lives. CANADA?). The lady noticed the key at the airport and took it out as she thought it may not get through airport security.The child eventually got tired of the doll and the doll ended up at the market where it was purchased by Lucinda.

      How did Arona get the key?

      The keys have a lot of psychic energy. Arona picks up on psychic energy and zones in on it. She found the key at the airport.

      Any questions?

      #4662

      “I have to say,” Miss Bossy Pants took a dramatic pause for maximum effect “that you all have been incredulously industrious.”

      “Is she insulting us again?” Hilda hissed at Connie.
      “Shht! There’s no tellin’ with her…” Connie replied, as baffled as the other by the impromptu award ceremony.

      “Ahem-hem-hm!” Miss Pants melodiously hummed and cleared her voice making sure she had everyone’s attention, which was quite a challenge, if you’d asked her. Of course, she relished a challenge.
      “As I was saying, you all have been busy, and delivered well…”

      “Aaah, that’s what she meant!” whispered Connie
      “She should have said so, why all the confusing pistache?”
      “You mean panache?”
      “No, although I’d fancy a nice beer and lemonade.”

      Once they had finished their sideways discussion, Miss Bossy had already gone to explain the first award category : “Most Stylistic Synchronistic Article”.

      “It’s going to take a while” Ricardo winked at them, “considering all the articles you’ve produced this week only. But I wouldn’t discard the possibility of Sophie winning one yet.”

      Both Connie and Hilda’s faces turned woebegone.

      #4630
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        “Oh my god,” said Maeve again. “Do you know what this means?” She put Ima back on the shelf. “You need to water that plant.”
        “No,” said Lucinda. “I mean, no, I don’t know what this means.”
        “I don’t either really,” said Maeve with a sigh.
        “How about I make us a nice cup of tea and you can explain what you do know.”
        Maeve nodded and cleared a pile of books off Lucinda’s sofa so she could sit down.
        “You’ve got a lot of stuff.”
        “Yeah, I’m a hoarder. It’s a bit of a problem but I’ve started getting help for it. I go to ‘Hoarder’s Anonymous’. Have you heard of it?”
        Maeve shook her head.
        “Hi, I’m Lucinda and I’m a hoarder … you know … 12 steps stuff. Same old format.”
        “Cool,” said Maeve, not sure what else to say.

        #4593

         :fleuron:‪

        Konrad had to cover his brown eyes as he watched the wall collapse.
        On his left was the Tower, the one-of-a-kind creation under which the Dark Lord, Garl, swore an oath. The stone from the center fell toward the right with a soft thunk. The walls surrounding the Tower were broken apart by a flash of light.

        Konrad continued to the center of the twelve-tiled square he drew onto the floor to make his escape.

        Two or three days later, he would meet another of his patrons, the mysterious Surt, who’d come across him first. They talked about the recent events leading up to the Dark Lord having fallen, and the dark rumors that were rampant.

        ‪Surt seemed to be one of those who didn’t believe the news. This one had only heard the official stories, but was still somewhat interested. He said, “My apologies for not making the trip to the capital earlier… it was not easy to travel in such close proximity to it.” Surt explained why he came to this place, even though he had no clue on his own.

        “So what brought you here?” Konrad asked the giant.

        “Surt has something you’ll want to know about the Dark Lord’s sister Nesingwarys.” Surt explained.

        “What about her?” asked Konrad.

        “She’s a magical girl. That sort of thing. She goes to school with a little girl with some special abilities. I’ve taken a keen interest.” His eyes narrowed. “Her abilities are her own. You know, something with the potential to kill the whole school. She’ll keep you safe. You’ll become her protector and help her survive the Dark Lord. Maybe one or two times. It’s her calling.”

        “N-no-it’s not my calling!” Konrad shouted. “My calling is to protect you!”

        “Surt is well versed in her abilities, and she has her own reasons not to go down the Dark Lord’s path. She has no interest in the Dark Lord, or anything related to him.”
        Konrad replied with a tone of bitterness. “I will help her by keeping my own thoughts hidden, and not talking about it outside of the school.” Konrad walked away to go back and forth between Surt and Soren. Surt continued to watch him with curiosity.

        Soren was looking around worried, confused, bewildered.

        #4587
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Fabio, Maeve’s pekingese, didn’t seem startled when Granola popped into the squishy giraffe toy. It wasn’t the first time it’d seen ghostly apparitions around Maeve. Quite the contrary in fact, Fabio explained to the squishy giraffe after spitting it out on the kitchen floor, where Maeve was finishing her cleaning duties.

          She couldn’t help but pick up the toy and give it a good clean. Most of the colors had already faded, but she couldn’t part with it. It was the favourite toy of her first dog, and it was bringing up many memories.

          “Thanks for the bath, darling” she squished the toy making it talk.

          She looked at the dog “it’s time for your walk, isn’t it? Let me change, and we’ll go to the store, I think we’re short of butter for the cookies.”

          #4583
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            “Well, that explains it,” replied Liz, with a snort.

            #4580
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              “Would somebody please explain to me what a techromancer is, and what is he doing in my bathroom?”

              #4545

              “That is unfortunate,” said Rukshan when Fox told him about the dogs’ answer. They were all gathered around the fire on rough rugs for a last meal before activating the portal. For a moment shadow and light struggled on Rukshan’s face as the flames of the fire licked the woods, making it crack and break. A few sparkles flew upward into the dark starry night.

              Lhamom used the magic metal spoon to serve steaming soup in carved wooden bowls, and Olliver was doing the service.
              When he took his, Fox felt a chilly breeze find its way past his blanket. He shivered, put the bowl on the carpet in front of him and attempted to readjust the yakult wool blanket in a vain attempt to make it windproof. He took back the bowl and took a sip. The dogs barked in the distance. They were impatient to start the hunt. Fox shivered again.

              “I could still serve as bait,” Fox said because he felt it was his fault if the plan failed. “You know, surprise the dogs while they are focused on the Shadow and make it follow me to trap it into the portal after we crossed it.”

              “Don’t be ridiculous,” said Rukshan. “It’s too dangerous. If you try to do that, we could have not one but two problems to solve. And you might get stuck too.”

              Fox tried not to think about the implications of being stuck here, or in between the portals. He looked at Olliver who was looking at his soup as if it was the most important thing in the world.

              Rukshan shook his head. “No. It was a foolish of me to hope those dogs would help us.”

              “What can we do then?” asked Lhamom. They all drank their soup, the silence only broken by the fire cracking and the dogs barking.

              “I can be in several places at once,” said Olliver quickly. Fox held his breath.
              Lhamom and Rukshan looked at the boy.

              “I know,” said Lhamom. “You were so helpful today with the cooking and all.”
              “What do you mean?” asked Rukshan. “Olliver was with me helping me with the sand all day.” He stopped. His face showed sudden understanding. “Oh! Of course,” he said. “The book we burnt. The shard’s power was not only teleportation, but also ubiquity.” Rukshan turned to look at Fox. “You don’t seem surprised.”

              Fox shrugged, making his blanket slip off of his shoulders slightly. Before he answered he adjusted it back quickly before the warmth he had accumulated could vanish into the night. “Well I saw him… I mean them. How do you think I came out of the negotiation alive? I can not teleport! I don’t even know what my powers are, or if I have any now that the shards have gone.”

              “Grace and miracles,” said Rukshan with a grin.
              A strange cristalline noise rang to Fox’s hears.
              “What? Oh! Yes. Well, that explains it then,” he said, feeling a mix of grumpiness and contentment. He finished his soup and was about to leave the comfort of his blanket to take some stew when Lhamom took the bowl from his hands. She gave him a good serving and gave him back his bowl.

              “What is it about shards and powers?” she asked.
              Fox, Rukshan and Olliver looked at each other.
              “It’s…” started Fox.
              “It’s a long story,” cut Rukshan.

              “Don’t make as if I said nothing important,” said Olliver.
              The red of the flames enhances his angry look, thought Fox.
              “I can be at two places, even more, at once. I can still be the bait and go back home with you at the same time.”

              A dog barked impatiently.

              “Yes,” said Fox.
              “I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” said Rukshan, concern on his face.
              “Why? I’m not a boy anymore, if that’s what it’s all about. I can do it. I already did it this afternoon.”
              “Well this afternoon was nice and cosy, wasn’t it? You had plenty of light, and yes you helped Fox escape from the dogs, so you can certainly do it. But what about the Shadow spirit. We have no idea what it is, or what it can do to you. And what will happen if one of you get killed?”

              Once again, they fell silent. There was a dog bark and that strange cristalline noise again. It sounded closer.
              “What’s that noise?” asked Olliver. Fox suddenly realised the strange noise had nothing to do with the sound of miracles, but it was a real noise in the real world.
              “What noise?” asked Lhamom. “And what are you all talking about, shards and powers and ubiquity?”
              “I can hear it too,” said Fox. “I’ve heard it before, but thought it was just me.”

              The noise happened again, this time sounding a lot like metallic ropes snapping on ice.
              Fox wriggled his nose. There was the smell of an animal and of a human.
              “I think someone is coming,” he said, sniffing the cold air. “A donkey and a human.”

              It was not too long before they saw an odd woman riding a donkey. She was playing a lyre made of ice, the strings of which had a faint glow. The woman was smiling like she was having the best adventure of her life.
              “Hi guys. I came to help you. You didn’t think I would remain forgotten in my cave, did you?”

              Kumihimo! Ronaldo!” said Lhamom, standing up.

              #4539

              Fox, layered in warm clothes, looked dubiously at the hellishcopter. He had assumed it was fantastic and awe inspiring creature from the underworld. But it wasn’t.

              “It’s a carpet with a circular wooden platform,” he said, feeling a bit disappointed. He noticed the steam that formed out of his mouth with every word and it made him feel cold despite the numerous layers around him.
              The carpet was floating limply above its shadow on the snow. It looked old and worn out by years of use. The reds blues and greens were dull and washed-out, and it was hard to tell apart the original motives from stains. Oddly enough it was clear of dust.

              “Not just a carpet, said Lhamom with her usual enthusiasm illuminating her face. It’s a magic carpet.” She wore that local coat of them which looked so thin compared to his multiple layers, but she had assured him it was warm enough for far worse temperatures. Steam was also coming out of her mouth when she talked.

              Fox was still not convinced. “And how fast does it go?”

              “Fast enough,” said Lhamom. “You’ll all be back in no time to the forest.”
              “Isn’t there a risk for the luggage to fall off? I don’t see any practical way to attach them.”
              “Oh! Sure,” retorted Lhamom with an amused look. “You won’t fall from the platform unless someone pushes you out.”
              Fox winced and gulped. His mind had showed him someone shaken by an uncontrollable movement and pushing him off the platform above the sharp mountain tops, and even if it his fantasy had no sound, it was not very reassuring.

              Lhamom looked at him sharply. “Are you afraid of heights?” she asked.
              Fox shrugged and looked away at Rukshan who was busy packing the camp with Olliver and their guide.
              “What if I am?” Fox said.
              “I have some pills,” she said, foraging in her numerous pockets. She brandished victoriously an old little wooden box that she opened and showed him brown pills that looked and smelled like they had been made by dung beetles.

              Rukshan had finished his packing and was approaching them with a messenger bag.
              “Don’t play with him too much, he said, in his current state Fox’s will swallow everything, except food.” Rukshan and Olliver laughed. Fox didn’t know what to make of it, feeling too exhausted to find clever retorts. Lhamom winked at him and put the pills back in her pocket.

              Rukshan put his hand on Fox’s shoulder. “We’re going home through a sand portal, he said giving putting a hand on his bag. I’ve gathered coloured sand from the different places we visited and Lhamom had brought some holy dripping water collected from the running nose of the lama headmaster of Pulmol Mountain when he last had a cold.”
              That sounded a little complicated to Fox and he didn’t try to make sense of it.
              “We’ll only go on the hellishcopter to fly throught the portal with all the stuff we collected. But I need time to make the sand portal, and from what you reported the dogs have said, we may only have little time available before that thing you have felt come to us.”

              Fox started. With his bowel adventures and Rukshan’s previous dismissal of the matter, Fox had forgotten about the odd presence he had smelled and that had seemed to preoccupy the hunting dogs at night.
              “What do you mean?” he asked, trying to not let worry crept back in his mind.
              “I first thought it was fantasies coming out of your imagination because of your poor health condition, but when I told Lhamom this morning she told me what it was.” Rukshan hesitated.
              “What? asked Fox, his heartbeat going faster.
              “Some kind of ancient spirit roaming through the mountain. It feeds of human flesh and is attracted by magic. It was liberated by an earthquake recently and it that Olliver and Tak felt. Up until now the dogs, who are the gardians of the mountains, were enough to ward it off for us despite the presence of the baby snoot. But now that Lhamom has brought the spoon and that I’m going to use magic for the portal, it may get bolder and the dogs will not be enough to stop it. Fortunately it only gets out at night, so we have ample enough time, Rukshan said cheerfully. Olliver also is exhausted and he can’t use his teleporting abilities for all of us. By using a sand portal I may even be able to lay a trap for the spirit when we leave, but I need to begin now and let’s pray the weather remains clear and windless.”

              It took some time for the meaning and the implications of flesh eating to sink into Fox’s mind. He looked nervously at the sky where it seemed a painter had splashed a few white strokes of clouds with his giant brush. Were they still or moving? Fox couldn’t tell. He looked back at Rukshan and Lhamom.
              “What can I do to help?”
              “I need you to explain the plan to the dogs so that they release the spirit when I give the signal.”

              #4533

              Eleri was starting to feel uneasy. “I’m going after her!” she cried, and sprang over to the hat stand, but Margoritt stood firmly in her way.

              “Oh no you don’t, and leave me here on my own, worrying about the pair of you?”

              “Pass me that bowler hat, Margoritt, there’s not a moment to lose. A particular kind of magic is called for but don’t ask me to explain, just pass me the hat!”

              #4507

              It was still raining clumps of wet sand when Rukshan, Olliver, Fox and Twee arrived at the oasis.
              The light had dimmed and there was a feeling of hope mixed with dread in the vicinity. Only a mud brick wall no higher than a man’s waist was surrounding the village; and despite the infelicitous weather, standing here were a pair of sentinels so covered in sand clumps that they almost looked like a pair of stone wyverns guarding the entrance.

              “Sسلام Salum’ friends. We are simple merchants, passing through, please allow us some shelter for the night” explained Rukshan using what he could remember of his rusty Nomads’ old tongue.

              After a long silent glance at his strange companions, they shrugged and nodded him that he could go through.

              Rukshan signaled to the others to follow him. The central paved road was leading the the market place, which would constitute, with the masjid, the centre of the city, and the most likely place to find answers on their quest.

              Everyone seemed to have retreated to their places, in caves or the homes built on top of the caves from excavated materials. It was rather quiet except from the occasional thump noise made by the rain.

              They were about to enter an alley when they heard someone loudly call them.
              “Stop right here, Plastic Ban Police! – show us your bags and IDs.”

              #4450
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Starting from the end of the story, Albie finally understood where the traveler had come from, and why.

                In retrospect, it explained a lot. Why the story was going nowhere for enders.
                It begged to be turned around! — back to its origin. Otherwise, readers of the pages of the story couldn’t help but be taken by bouts of anterograde amnesia.

                All the forward looking thinking, the futurists, bound to become caught in a loop! Fighting for a patch of the present, while the expanse was to be discovered in the expired. Truth was in the return. Funny how regression seemed a word tainted of passéism, while it could in turn evoke seismic progress — regression therapy!

                So let us start from the end. The traveler had arrived, she’d come from the other side of the page. Turning that back, a whole new story was to be written of what led her to the Doline.

                #4404
                Jib
                Participant

                  Liz left her bed at 8:30am, wearing only her pink and blue doubled cotton night gown, a perfect hair and her fluffy pink blue mules. She had been thinking about her characters while the sun was trying to rise with great difficulty. Liz couldn’t blame the Sun as temperatures had dropped dramatically since the beginning of winter and the air outside was really cold.

                  When Liz was thinking about her writings and her characters, she usually felt hungry. Someone had told her once that the brain was a hungry organ and that you needed fuel to make it work properly. She didn’t have a sweet tooth, but she wouldn’t say no to some cheesy toast, any time of the day.

                  She had heard some noise coming from the kitchen, certainly Finnley doing who knows what, although certainly not cleaning. It might be the association between thinking about her characters and the noise in the kitchen that triggered her sudden craving for a melted slice of cheese on top of a perfectly burnished toast. The idea sufficed to make her stomach growl.

                  She chuckled as she thought of inventing a new genre, the toast opera. Or was it a cackle?

                  As she was lost in her morning musings, her mules gave that muffled slippery sound on the floor that Finnley found so unladylike. Liz didn’t care, she even deliberately slowed her pace. The slippery sound took on another dimension, extended and stretched to the limit of what was bearable even for herself. Liz grinned, thinking about Finnley’s slight twitching right eye as she certainly was trying to keep her composure in the kitchen.

                  Liz, all cheerful, was testing the differences between a chuckle and a cackle when she entered the kitchen. She was about to ask Finnley what she thought about it when she saw a small person in a yellow tunic and green pants, washing the dishes.

                  Liz stopped right there, forgetting all about chuckles and cackles and even toasts.

                  “Where is Finnley?” she asked, not wanting to appear the least surprised. The small person turned her head toward Liz, still managing to keep on washing the dishes. It was a girl, obviously from India.

                  “Good morning, Ma’am. I’m Anna, the new maid only.”

                  “The new… maid?”

                  Liz suddenly felt panic crawling behind her perfectly still face. She didn’t want to think about the implications.

                  “Why don’t you use the dishwasher?” she asked, proud that she could keep the control of her voice despite her hunger, her questions about chuckles and cackles, and…

                  “The dirty dishes are very less, there is no need to use the dishwasher only.”

                  Liz looked at her bobbing her head sideways as if the spring had been mounted the wrong way.

                  “Are you alright?” asked Anna with a worried look.

                  “Of course, dear. Make me a toast with a slice of cheese will you?”

                  “How do I do that?”

                  “Well you take the toaster and you put the slice of bread inside and pushed the lever down… Have you never prepared toasts before?”

                  “No, but yes, but I need to know how you like it only. I want to make it perfect for your liking, otherwise you won’t be satisfied.” The maid suddenly looked lost and anxious.

                  “Just do as you usually do,” said Liz. “Goddfrey?” she called, leaving the kitchen before the maid could ask anymore questions.

                  Where was Goddfrey when she needed him to explain everything?

                  “You need me?” asked a voice behind her. He had appeared from nowhere, as if he could walk through the walls or teleport. Anyway, she never thought she would be so relieved to see him.

                  “What’s that in the kitchen?”

                  “What’s what? Oh! You mean her. The new maid.”

                  He knew! Liz felt a strange blend of frustration, despair and anger. She took mental note to remember it for her next chapter, and came back to her emotional turmoil. Was she the only one unaware of such a bit change in her home?

                  “Well, she followed us when we were in India. We don’t know how, but she managed to find a place in one of your trunks. Finnley found her as she had the porter unpacked the load. It seems she wants to help.”

                  #4341

                  Before he closed it to prepare for the dinner, the page of the book had said “She is coming, heralded by Sunshine, and thus will the Gathering start”. Rukshan could be quite literal and thought that she wouldn’t come today, since the sun was about to set.
                  He wasn’t sure how the words had found their way into the book, and if the She was who he thought She was. In short, he was getting confused.

                  Back there, the Hermit’s message had been so clear, so urgently present.
                  Find who you were, find what you stole, and give it back. Then the threads will unravel and the knot of all the curses will be undone.

                  And yet, he started to doubt his path.

                  The high-pitched cry of “Circle of Eights” pierced through the fog of his mind, and Rukshan realised suddenly that… that was it. Why else, all these people would be around this place at this auspicious moment?

                  The trees’ messages had been shown right. He was the Faying Fae. The Sage Sorceress was probably still on her path, but the Teafing Tinkeress hunted by a god, the Gifted Gnome, on his way to become his own maker under the protection of a Renard Renunciate looking for lost souls… They were there. Five in total; with himself (Rukshan) — the potion-maker, Eleri, Gorrash, Fox, these were the rest of the names, and they made the five first strands. Who were the last two? Olliver, Tak?

                  Olliver would surely have rounded everyone around for the dinner by now.
                  Rukshan placed the book back into the bag. He would explain to everyone then, read the old tale of the seven thieves and their curses, and maybe they could all formulate a plan for remembrance.
                  Yes, remembrance was the first step. How to know what to do if you didn’t know who they were, what they stole…

                  He wasn’t too sure what to do with the God in torpor yet. He seemed less of a danger in his current state. That a God had been left behind, stuck in stone for so long, and right under their nose was mind-boggling. Another mystery to be revealed.
                  Surprisingly —and luckily— Olli had explained, Hasamelis seemed to believe that the young boy was a genius wizard, so he would maybe listen to Olli.

                  The second ‘Circle of Eights!’ seemed closer this time.

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