Fantasy The MPC Rushes Story, Cont.

[ArtBlott]

Blott sighed and whisked off her hat and laid it on the table by her seat, her bird hopping down to settle at it's top. She appreciated the effort, and the notion behind the apparently magical egg roll, but wasn't sure if it would work. She eyed her crow warily. Some magic didn't mix well with others...


She sat down anyway, unwrapping her egg roll and stabbing it through the middle with a chopstick she found at her place setting. Inelegant, but it still worked. She held it towards her crow. Blott guessed it was some sort of video game-esque Full Restore, though other than more paper, she didn't need anything. She really hoped she didn't end up with rice paper though. Her ink ran right through that stuff.


The crow pecked, and hopped, and pecked some more, picking off the outer skin to get at the warm innards. Still, for all it's oddities, the crow was merely a crow, for this purpose, and finished merely a third of the roll. Well, she certainly didn't feel different.


"Now tell us why we're here."


Blott looked up. William seemed...different. Less bumbling and awkward. It was like a thin stripe of steel he keep hidden was eking out into the open. She pursed her lips. This was an interesting development.


"Ca-Caw!" Her own crow startled her away from her curious staring at William. What the hell?


Well, the egg roll certainly did...something. Her crow cocked it's head towards her, clearly pleased with itself. It's feathers were shiny and it's beak polished to a gleam. As it strutted happily along the edge of her hat, she noticed the most obvious change. You look like a damn puffball. And so it did, the plumage covering it's body much fuller and softer than before, rendering the formerly sleek, slender crow the appearance of a black dust bunny, or perhaps one of those frilly feathered hairbands sold at tween-fashion stores in the mall.


She covered her face with her hands, hoping to die on the spot.

 

[Genevieve Moulin]

The sight of food made Genevieve's stomach twist uncomfortably. Eating was the last thing she wanted to do. She considered for a moment her full name neatly inscribed on the wrapper before ripping it in two between Genevieve and Moulin. With her chopsticks she pushed the eggroll around her plate.


Needs again. Genevieve was tired of strangers believing they could meet her needs. What could this...this...Curator know of her? She needed Fitz back by her side, but a magic eggroll wasn't going to give her that. She needed to forgive and to be forgiven, but neither seemed forthcoming. She needed revenge, and this time the image of herself holding a blade to her husband's throat didn't make her flinch.


She stabbed both chopsticks into the center of her eggroll at the same moment William growled, "Now tell us why we're here."


Genevieve raised her eyebrows at the Master of Black Iron House. He had always seemed more like her idea of a Librarian than a Monster Hunter, but now his set features and commanding voice brooked no ambiguity from their strange host. Always full of surprises, this lot, she thought.


"Ca-caw!"


She turned to see Blott's usually sleek crow puffed and fluffed like an ornament on a particularly gaudy lady's hat. Despite the heaviness in her heart, a half smile spread across Genevieve's lips.

 

[Mr Nope]

Mr. Nope lifted his eyes to the questions of Mr. Blackiron and the Writer.


"Aah, yes... You are all here for one of two reasons... Either this group is in trouble or an artifact from my old colleague led you here?"


A youthful smile overtakes the Curator, he quietly and swiftly raises from his seat, turns to the blinded window of the room and peers deeply as if in another place like a transcending dream, he sighs...


"I was expecting no one here, nor did I summon any of you. Whatever or whoever gave you the means to arrive in this particular place and time has intentions or reasons beyond my scope. Yet, most importantly until this moment each of you have had every opportunity to attack my apprentice and myself. "


The Curator picks up a small tattered moleskin with initials QK seared into the binding and cover, and conceals the moleskin within his hands, it vanishes within a blink of an eye.


"It seems your efforts have no hostile or evil intentions, therefore Arkadious has entrusted each of you with something and led you here for a reason, which I am unaware of. The Panda wan and I shall accompany you to ensure that your plans are a success, it would be good to see the Pale Stranger again, hopefully..."


The Curator turns with a serious gaze upon everyone in the room, "Sigh... Are there any more questions? If not, then let us go! Assistant Daisy, are my things in order? And please do not forget my Zanpakutō, if you forget my soy sauce one more time, there will be a significant increase in your daily tasks!!!"

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

Lisbeth looked at the steaming egg roll sitting on the platter in front of her. In neat script the words inscribed on it read:


Lisbeth Walpurgis


Audry Frostine





There was something else, a third name, but it was fainter and mostly hidden beneath the edge of the roll. Her heartbeat quickened as she turned the roll, exposing the name. For just a moment her eyes grew wide, and she placed a hand instinctively on her chest. Then she composed herself, snatched up the egg roll, and devoured it.


The skin was crisp, the contents hot without scalding, flavors of spiced meat and cabbage with a subtle tone of ginger. As she ate she did indeed feel a wave of calm pass over her, dulling her pain. Her wounds were still there, they simply weren't as raw. Her fatigue fled and her body felt somehow lighter. There was a warmth radiating from her center, flowing out to her very fingers and toes. She took a selfish moment to revel in it, to feel as though her burdens were being lifted, until-


A lance of white hot pain seared through her chest.


It was so brief she barely even had time to blink, let alone react. Then it was gone, and she felt fairly normal again. She looked around the table. No one seemed to have noticed anything wrong.


"What the stars was that?!"


"Oh. You're awake."


"Well I certainly wasn't going to sleep through whatever that was! Besides, I'm feeling weirdly good right now."


"I think we were just healed, or something like. But... I have no idea what that pain was."


"Hm. I think it was the heart. Whatever magic that was... didn't agree with it, maybe? I don't know. I only ever learned how to use magic in combat, not the theories behind it. If Darien were here... Hey! What if we went to see Darien? He might know how to separate us! Because let me tell you-"


"No."


"What? What do you mean, No?"


"I mean we're not going back to your world right now. I can't risk Thanatos discovering your world, Frostine. It's the only one I've Written that neither he nor the Knights know about yet. Besides, I can't Write right now and my Book is blank. I don't know how we'd even get to your world."


"Your Book... is blank?"


"Yes. Something happened to it in Black Iron House. I don't know what, but it's blank now and I can't Write."


"But... what about my world? Is it ok? Is Jack ok?!"


"I don't know for certain, but I think so. I mean, you're still here."


"But what if that's only because I'm fused with you?!"


Lisbeth realized, belatedly, that their host was speaking. The name 'Arkadious' had swiftly caught her attention, and she placed her inner discussion with Frostine on hold. She listened intently to the rest of what the panda man had to say as she desperately tried to piece together what she hadn't quite been paying attention to. Eventually she shook her head.


"We don't even know what our next step is, Mr. Nope," she said, "Except that the Lance of Longinus may be the only weapon that can defeat our foe, Thanatos. If you know of it's whereabouts, I would dearly like to hear it."

 

[ArtBlott]

Blott let her head thunk onto the table. It hurt, but not as much as the insides of her head had already. "No...just, put your sinpootoo away and, ugh," She raised her head. At least her crow sounded normal. Or she sounded normal via crow. She eyed the puffball-bird warily. It's loyalties didn't seem to have changed...


"We can't run off just yet, not now. We've been running all day. And the day before that. So, I'm going to sit here." She was aware she sounded like a petulant teen, but soldered on, "We keep losing people, and we're at each other throats already. And, no offense, "She looked at Mr. Nope wearily, "You're a panda. A talking panda. That wants to take us to a currently unspecified location. I am full up on my weird quota already today, so please, sit. Talk." She gestured to Genevieve, "She has lost a friend, and gained an enemy, let her have peace, for now," she turned to William, "We...are all lost in different ways, let us rest both mind and body," she almost frowned at her crow. It was paraphrasing for her again, slipping into a weird, formal sort of cadence she hadn't heard for...how long ago was it? I never figured out the time difference, really... She turned to Lisbeth, sharper than she meant to, "and we need answers more than action now, it's true. So before we go, please...let us stay."


Whew! Monologues always took some time to recover from. She hoped the reprieve was granted, she needed one too now.

 

[Mr Nope]

"Well Writer, I have not heard of this Lance in a very long time, let me check my archives. There is an Inn several steps from here, lettuce all get our rest and we shall convene and depart in three days. Yes... Lettuce."

 

[Mr Nope]

Mr. Nope laughs sardonically, "I had hoped the Artist would appreciate the sacred Hattori Lucci recipe."

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

Three days.


Three days to kill in 1930 Shanghai.


What the hell was she supposed to do with three days?


She sighed. Some good, old-fashioned soul-searching maybe? She let out a cynical chuckle.


"Very well. I guess we'd better procure some rooms then. I don't suppose anyone happens to have any currency that's valid in this locale and time period? Or speaks Chinese?"

 

[ArtBlott]

Blott airily waved away Mr. Nope's comment with a tight smile. "I don't eat. But trust me, if I could, I'd sell my soul for large black coffee right about now." Hunched forward in her chair, she poked at her newly puffed up crow, styling the feathers this way and that as it preened under her attentions. Lisbeth had a very good point. They didn't have any money, and Blott certainly didn't know any Chinese. Maybe one of the others did. The assistant, Daisy was it? Maybe she could help with communications, but it didn't sit right with Blott to accept their money. And if they did get rooms, they'd have to split up, which was dangerous, if she interpreted the old Scooby-doo episodes right.


She chuckled at her fluffed her crow into having a full on spiked-mullet. Ha! Now there's a hairstyle I thought I'd never have to see again. She smoothed it back down (as down as it would go, at least) and looked to her friends (she hoped they were friends). "Genevieve, William, you two seem the most well-traveled and well-read, respectively, any Chinese on your resume?"

 

[Arkadious]

"I may be able to assist with that..." Said a figure from the shadows behind Lisbeth. She turned and saw him, the hooded figure, standing not three feet away, features obscured by the shadows of his deep hood, save for his piercing eyes. Before she could form a reply, he turned and strolled towards the shop entrance, walking briskly. "Follow me. And do try to keep up..." With that, he was out into the still quiet streets of Shanghai, heading deeper into the maze of steamy alleyways.


The group exchanged looks of surprise and quickly gathered their items and hurried after the stranger, questions bubbling up inside of each of them. Deeper and deeper into the shady side streets he lead them, always just out of reach, disappearing around a corner and another until without warning he stopped in front of a nondescript little building, easily overlooked by the casual traveler. He raised his hand and knocked, once, twice, then thrice, a series of short and long pauses in between, similar to Morse code. A small door opened and the stranger ducked his head and stepped through, motioning for the rest to follow. Once inside, the door closed quietly behind them and a few lanterns sparked to life, casting a soft glow on the room, what appeared to be a small reception room. The stranger was standing by a small desk, talking with a small elderly woman, speaking in a not often used Chinese dialect. After a few moment, he produced a small leather pouch, gave it a little jingle and sat it on the desk. In the blink of the eye, the the pouch was secreted away and the grandmotherly little woman was bobbing her head and smiling.


Turning to the group, the stranger said "You can stay here. Chuntao Hua has several empty rooms for you to use and has promise privacy for you for the duration of your stay. Regroup, recover and relax. You are in good hands..." With a curt nod, and a quick word to Chuntao, the stranger turned and disappeared down a hallway. Before anyone could follow, the elderly woman hopped off her stool and came around to greet her guests. "Ah, yesh, thank you fo' coming, you have been expected. Please, come with me, I show you to your rooms." With a bob of her head, Chuntao turned and started down a hallway then up a set of stairs, pausing and waiting for the group to follow...

 

[UCBooties]

William hardly paid attention to the winding streets and alleys as they made their way from the tea shop to the inn. It was a city like hundreds of others he had seen. Instead his thoughts turned the Writer's question over in his mind.


Did he speak Chinese? What language did he speak, really? Wherever he went he was able to converse easily with the people he met. It never seemed to him that he spoke any differently, but surely all those different places on all those hundreds of worlds could not share a common tongue...


Just another facet of his strange existence that he had never thought to question before this band arrived on his doorstep. He shot a furtive glance at the Writer, before the arrival of one of them in particular. So it must be something connected to Black Iron House, some trick it used to format his mind when it transitioned. Or, perhaps, was it innate?


They arrived at their destination and the man of shadows introduced them to their hostess, Chuntao Hua. William frowned again, the man of shadows was connected to the Writer, that much he could tell, but he had appeared within Black Iron House as well, which raised more questions than it answered. Something told him that the Writer was connected to Black Iron House somehow, though he was fairly certain she had not created it. For now he would hold his tongue, but the mystery of the man of shadows would need to be brought to light sooner rather than later. The ease with which he appeared and disappeared made William uneasy. William had existed within Black Iron House long enough to know that gifts easily given were not often easily repaid, and the man of shadows had been quite generous with their little group of late.


The man of shadows vanished. All the answers he might provide trailing after his tattered cloak, gone, for now.


William settled his gaze on their hostess.


"Ah, yesh, thank you fo' coming, you have been expected. Please, come with me, I show you to your rooms."


William stepped forward, time for a test. He focused on her, on speaking only to her.


"Thank you for your hospitality, honored mother," he said in perfect Cantonese, "please show us where we may stay."

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

Lisbeth hurried after the shadowy figure, but no matter how hard she tried to chase him he always seemed to be just out of reach. Someone would get in her way, or the path would narrow, or somehow he would already be turning around the next corner even though he'd seemed just an arm's length away around the previous one. Finally he stopped outside of a building, so Lisbeth set her jaw and marched toward him. This time she was going to get some answers, whether he liked it or not. He was rapping some sort of code on the door as Lisbeth at last neared him.


"Now, see here-" she began, but then the door opened and the stranger ducked inside.


Lisbeth shook her head.


"Of course," she grumbled.


Before following him inside, she looked over her shoulder to make sure she hadn't lost her companions. Sure enough, there they were, so she gave them a quick nod before ducking inside herself. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust as the dim lanterns flickered to life, but she could see the shadowy figure conversing with an old woman, likely the proprietor of the place. Lisbeth stood aside from the doorway to allow her companions to enter (it was slightly comical how much William had to bend in order to fit through the low door), and then the stranger was introducing their host and striding away down a hall.


"Now wait a moment-!" she called, but the old woman, Chuntao Hua, hopped down from her stool in a surprisingly spry manner and interposed herself between Lisbeth and where the man had gone.


"Ah, yesh, thank you fo' coming, you have been expected. Please, come with me, I show you to your rooms."





Lisbeth only managed an indignant sputter before the woman turned and tottered away down a different hall, beckoning. Peering down the other hall, Lisbeth saw no sign of the stranger and was just about to go investigate when William was suddenly at her elbow, speaking in perfect Chinese. Why hadn't he mentioned that he could speak the language sooner? For a moment Lisbeth gaped, but she quickly composed herself. She didn't have a moment to lose. She peered down the dark hall a second time, but there was nothing there. She gritted her teeth. Damn it. The stranger, whatever he was, if he was Arkadious Grimoire or not, had given her the slip again. She touched the pocket watch in her pouch, but at the moment it was cold. She sighed.


The woman was leading them further into the building, so Lisbeth followed after her and William. Down the dim hall they went, and eventually they came upon four open doors. Each opened into a room, small but cozy, with a bed, a basin, and a desk. There was a small window in each room as well, covered with a decorative grate that looked as functional as it was ornamental. Though it was likely there for their own security, Lisbeth couldn't help but get the impression of a cell. Chuntao Hua gestured to another door at the end of the hall.


"Toilet," she explained, smiling, "You have all comforts here. Safe. You need something, you tell me."





The she nodded briskly and headed back the way they had come. Lisbeth looked around at her companions, feeling suddenly awkward.


"Well," she began, "Let's... let's all get some rest, then. We've had a long day. Um. I'll be in my room if you need me."


Then she walked into the nearest room, closing the door behind her.

 

[Arkadious]

Everyone stood in the hallway for a moment after Lisbeth went into her room and closed her door then they followed suit and each bid each other good night and went into their rooms. Blott took a moment to take in the minimal furnishings of her room, from the small cozy empty bed, to the desk and wash basin beside it. Her puffbird took flight and circled the room briefly before settling on the corner of the desk and strutting about. With a shake of her head, Blott turned and peeked back out in the hallway, seeing her companions had all closed their doors. Sighing softly, she ducked back into her room, closing her door and turning to find a small girl sitting on the edge of her bed, not much older than thirteen, wearing a simple floral sundress, her skin pale like porcelain, silvery-blonde locks in a simple braid and piercing blue eyes that seemed to look into Blott, rather than at her. The puff-bird gave a caw and ruffled its feathers, making it look even more comically puffy as it stared at the young girl. Something about her was eerily familiar but Blott couldn't quite put her finger on it...


"Good evening, Quinette, wasn't it? Although, I dont believe you can use that name anymore...Blott, right? Fitting name for one that calls them self an Artist..."

 

[ArtBlott]

Blott leapt back and plastered herself against the closed door, her heart jumping into her throat. That girl was so obviously not there a second ago. So shocked was she that it took a moment to register what the intruder had actually said. Peeling herself off the wall, her shock was slowly burning away into unease, and perhaps a long forgotten anger, smoldering at the edges of her mind.


"Alright. So you know you me. You know what I've done." she narrowed her eyes. But just how much did this girl know? She wasn't...she didn't look fae... "What do you want from me?"


She crossed her arms and raised her chin defiantly, hating how defensive she sounded. Hopefully she could deal with this 'girl' quickly and quietly, so no one else would have to know.

 

[Arkadious]

The girl smiled sweetly, though the smile did not reach her cold piercing eyes. She stood up slowly, more of a small hop since she was so short that her feet dangled off of the floor when she had been sitting on the edge of the bed. Slowly, she raised her arms above her head and stretched, a series of small pops and snaps from her spine advertising that she might be older than her youthful face said. She stood there for a moment, arms raised over her head, looking Blott over before shrugging and dropping her arms back to her side and turning to walk to the window.


"What do I want from you, Dear Blott...? Absolutely nothing, at this moment. Besides..." The girl looked over her shoulder and stared at Blott briefly then glanced over at her Crow. "It looks like you have already given up most of what you had to give..." The girl looked back out the window, to a sleepy Shanghai slowly stirring from its slumber, the coming day heralded by the chirping of birds and crickets and the quiet bustle of small shops setting up for the day. In the distance, a pair of girls were setting up their respective food stands across from each other, casting hard looks at one another that attested to their long standing rivalry...

 

[ArtBlott]

Blott felt an eye twitch coming on. This girl had to be fae. Or just a terrible person. One or the other, to give such a vague but horrifying answer. Obviously his girl knew everything. Blott's heart felt like it dropped into her stomach, and she considered raising the alarm, sending her crow out to wake the others but...she turned the interlopers words over one last time in her head.


"Will you be wanting something from me later then? Or is this a social call?" She was hard pressed to force the crow to replace the uncertain, wavering tone she felt into a colder, sharp and venomous sting to lend power to her words. If this visitor truly was fae, then asking for a name or title would be pointless. Best stick to more pressing matters. Like secret keeping. And maybe companion protecting.


Finding her spine, she stepped further into the room a pace or so, dropping her arms but remaining wary and tense, fully prepared to...do what, fight? Flee? She wasn't very good at either of those. Just following her companions to this place left her winded. She supposed she could always do a squid and douse the stranger with ink. The fallout from that would be unpredictable though.


Blott took another step forward, "You came into my room. I want an answer." She demanded, with much more bravado than she felt.

 

[Arkadious]

"Architects don't need permission to enter a place they helped shape into being. So, you could say You are in My room." The girl glanced over her shoulder again to look at Blott, her eyes cold and calculating. With an exasperated sigh, she tossed her hair over her shoulder and looked back out the window, absentmindedly playing with her braid, the faint beams of sunlight through the window catching on a small pocket-watch shaped charm dangling from a bracelet. "Irregardless, I am in here when you weren't expecting company. Well, aside from your puffball over there..." She nodded at the Crow, busy preening himself, having decided the girl was no immediate trouble to him. "He wasn't that full last time I saw him...Egg-rolls?" The girls hand briefly went to her breast and rubbed, as though remembering a phantom pain before she turned to face Blott.





"I know what you did and what you gave up, which was reckless and dangerous, not to mention not something that can easily be fixed...But I may know of a way in which you and the Writer can use your abilities to better prepare yourselves for what's in store..." The girl's gaze drifted briefly, looking at the door as if looking through it into one of the other rooms. Blott mentally checked her map and realized the girl was looking at Lisbeth's room. The girl looked back at Blott and held her gaze for a long moment before she pulled up on the collar of her sundress, bringing up a hood and pulling it over her head, her features immediately lost in the shadows, save for her eyes, glowing like icy embers. "You have a bit of time here before He comes back, use it to test your limits and then push them. I'll...be around..."

 

[Genevieve Moulin]

Genevieve gave a curt nod to her companions and quickly closed the door behind her. She could have kissed Blott for insisting they rest before setting off again on whatever fool's errand they had before them this time. But she wouldn't. She didn't want to see or speak to any of them now.


She filled the basin and began to wash, wiping away the dust of Hell and the disquieting dampness of the Nexus and the dried tears cried in Shanghai. But some things don't wash away.


Two hours. How could her whole world have changed in such a short time? Barely two hours ago she was standing on her tiptoes brushing her lips against Altamonte's cheek, relishing the surprised smile it brought to his face. Lisbeth didn't have to tell her their lives were dangerous--she'd lost count of how many times she'd escaped death by sheer luck and the barest inch. But while she had no doubt in the fragility of her own life, Fitz's presence in it--however long it was to be--had seemed certain. She'd only learned yesterday that he had followed her through time, dedicating his life to protecting her. Yet in all her memories she could sense his presence off to the side, in the shadows, a constant sentry.


Why? Why, Fitz? You stayed always at arms length. You never asked for anything in return. You watched me marry another. And look how I've repaid you for all you've done.


Genevieve lay down on the bed, curled in on herself and wept until she fell asleep.


When she awoke, she had no sense of the time or how long she had been asleep. As she sat up, pushing the hair out of her eyes, an all-too familiar dizziness came over her like a wave.


No.


She tried to resist but knew she was too weak. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes closed. Half a breath of nothing. Then her eyes flew open as she tried to quickly determine in which Where and When she had landed.

 

[Arkadious]

It was dark, almost pitch black and at first Genevieve was disoriented and couldn't tell Where or When she had landed. Then it hit her: the arid heat and the aroma of Arabic teas and herbs wafting thru the air. As her eyes adjusted she realized where she was. Home. She was back in her childhood home. She reached out a hand to steady herself against the wall and the familiar texture of the brick and mortar confirmed it. How? Why? What had caused her power to come back and why did it bring her back here? Almost as if in answer to her silent questions, Genevieve saw a figure appear in the distance, the silhouette of a man further down the corridor. Something about the way he stood tugged at her, felt familiar, tickled at the back at her mind until her heart skipped a beat and she uttered breathlessly "Fitz!" She quickly stood to her feet and broke out into a run towards the light and the silhouette at the end of the corridor. The closer she got, the more the tugging at her grew but no longer in the warm way she felt whenever she thought of Fitz, but in a sense of foreboding and dread, as if she unconsciously knew that whoever was at the end of the corridor was not friendly, yet she had to go anyway...





"Hello, my Darling...It's so lovely to see you again, after ALL this Time..."

 

[Genevieve Moulin]

"Tristan," Genevieve breathed, taking an unsteady step backwards. She reached to her hip for Fitz's revolver, but it was lying on the desk in her room in Shanghai. She stumbled back two more steps, Tristan advancing to meet her stride.


Algiers. Cinnamon and clove. Coriander and cumin. Tristan calling her 'my Darling" as though it were a curse. None of it made sense. It was incongruous, seeing Tristan in her girlhood home. They'd only met after her family moved back to Paris. When he lifted her veil on their wedding day, his eyes had been alight with laughter, with love. It had been there; it must have been. But now those eyes were black and emotionless--a predator who feels nothing when it devours its prey. Perhaps this was all a nightmare. But, no: the walls were too solid, the scrolling blue-and-white patterns of the tile floor too vivid.


She could run, but then she might never have her answers. She grounded feet and clenched her fists.


"What have you done with Altamonte?"

 

[ArtBlott]

Blott set down heavily on the bed, relief making her knees weak. Not a fae. This girl knew, somehow, but that was fine. She would gladly face anything other than the fae. She wasn't sure, exactly, what an Architect did, only that Engineers didn't like them.


She buried her face in her hands. Her and Lisbeth, eh? Not that Lisbeth looked like she wanted to work with anybody right about now. "Uh, yeah, egg roll. You know Mr. Nope then?" She offered to fill the silence, "The magic didn't mix well, but he should be fine after the next molt."


She took a deep breath and straightened up. "I don't get what you mean by push myself, but I'll give it a shot." She looked at the Architect sternly, "Don't make me regret this."

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

The door closed behind her, and Lisbeth sagged against it, allowing herself to slowly slide down to the floor. She sighed. The egg roll was still exerting its calming effects on her, but there was still an emptiness in her gut that tugged at her mind.


Eventually she picked herself off the floor and made her way to collapse on the edge of the bed. What to do now? She laid down on the bed, but thanks to the healing power of the egg roll she wasn't very tired. For a long time she simply stared at the ceiling as various emotions fought for purchase in her psyche.


Another sigh.


She held out her hand.


Her Book appeared, and she nearly dropped it with the added weight of the swords she had forgotten. She laid the swords aside on the bed before relocating to the desk, placing the Book open before her. She pulled out her pen, but her hand hesitated just above the page. Surely the egg roll had not been such a panacea as to restore her ability to Write. After all, Mr. Nope had told them not to expect miracles.


Her pen touched the page, but, just as she expected, she felt nothing. No connection. No power.


A cup of coffee with a generous helping of cream sat upon the desk. she wrote.


She looked up. Nothing. No surprise there. She pursed her lips.


What in all the worlds had happened in the orrery of Black Iron House?


Lisbeth reached into her pouch, running her fingers over the various contents that spanned several different worlds. Perhaps there was someone she ought to speak to about such things, someone who knew Black Iron House much better than she.


Someone who was afraid of her.


She set her jaw. Nothing for it but to try. She rose, dismissed her Book into the ether, left her room, and knocked on William's door.

 

[UCBooties]

Once they were all shuffled into their rooms, William took another few minutes to consider what he had learned. He could speak to people in their native tongues, it seemed, though to him it seemed that he was speaking the same as he always had. He only knew it was working from the surprised looks his companions gave him. This raised further questions, but it was a relief to know that not all of his abilities had been lost when his connection to Black Iron House had been severed. Now that they had a moment to sit and think he found himself wondering if he would ever see Black Iron House again.


It was, quite literally, the only life he had ever known. In the past when he had occasion to wonder about his own history he had simply assumed that he had been with Black Iron House too long, and any memories of a former life had simply faded with time. Now that Lisbeth had confirmed his suspicions, that he and Black Iron House were the products of a Writer, he thought it more likely that he had never had a previous life at all. He wondered about the Writer who had created him. What were they like, why had they created something like Black Iron House? Did they even understand the magnitude of what they had created?


Given what he had seen of other Writers and the worlds they left in their wake, he somehow doubted it.


There was a knock at the door. The peculiar itch was back at the edge of his consciousness. He suppressed a sigh. Speaking of Writers...


William stood from his small bed and crossed to the door, "Just a moment, Ms. Walpurgis."


He opened the door and gave her a uncertain smile, "What can I do for you?"

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

William's voice floated to her through the door.


"Just a moment, Ms. Walpurgis."


Lisbeth frowned. She hadn't spoken or given any other sign, yet somehow William knew that it was her. And suddenly she was 'Ms. Walpurgis.' He'd only used her familiar name once, otherwise he had simply called her 'Writer." They'd only known each other a few hours. That was what she was to him.


The door opened a few inches to reveal William looking down at her, back to appearing a meek clerk instead of a steely monster hunter.


"What can I do for you?" he asked, uncertainty all too plain in his voice.


She tried for a smile, but the look she managed to plaster on her face only ended up rather sad.


"I'd like to speak with you," she said quietly, "May I come in?"

 

[UCBooties]

William considered refusing for a moment. He was still filled with a thrill of instinctive fear and awe whenever he was too close to the Writer. He himself had met too many gods to hold them in any particular reverence, but he wondered if this sensation was something akin to what a religious person might feel. Was it really wise for something like him to be too close to such a creature? He squashed down on those thoughts and his hesitation.


Whatever they both might be, they were companions of a sort now, and they would most likely need to rely on each other in the days to come.


Striving to put a more genuine smile on his face he opened the door further and stepped aside, beckoning for Lisbeth to enter.


"Please come in."