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Fantasy The MPC Rushes Story, Cont.

It was strange to be in Darien's study/workshop space. It was just as she had Written it, and yet not. Time had passed since she had Written it, and things had changed. For one, it seemed slightly better organized. She supposed being the Regent meant that Darien likely had more visitors than he had previously been used to. Possibly even more assistants. The space felt more genuine, more lived-in, than she remembered. It was also strange because she was seeing it through Frostine's eyes as well. The centuries that Lisbeth had simply glossed over in the Story were very real to Frostine, and Lisbeth saw the ghosts of High Mages even she had never known. She blinked away the alien memories and turned to the High Mage.


"I am Lisbeth Walpurgis," she said, "The one with whom Frostine has merged. I suppose you deserve to have a bit of explanation..."


She laid out the facts for him as best she could while avoiding any details that he and his entire world had been Written; least of all that she was the Creator. When she was done she took a breath and leveled a serious gaze upon him.


"So, do you think you can help us? If you cannot... I fear that we are lost."
 
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The High Mage's Study: After Lisbeth finished her summarized explanation, Darien stroked his chin and regarded the group curiously. "Well, that's quite a story. I am not entirely certain that I will be able to separate you two, Lisbeth and Frostine, but I will certainly provide whatever services that I can render to aid you..."





Shanghai, 1930: After sending Daisy out to run a few errands, Mr Nope retired back to his study to continue looking through his archives for what information he had on the Lance of Longinus. After some time, lost in his study, he heard the door open and called out to Daisy, inquiring as to what had brought her back so soon and if she had obtained everything he asked. There was no reply. Mr Nope turned and looked to the doorway and instead of his assistant, he saw a tall figure, dressed in a dark suit with a deep hood, pulled up over their face, concealing their features. "I know she came through here...I can still smell her and her companions...Tell me where they are and We will make your Death quick and painless...Don't and well...." The lights in Mr Nope's study filickered and then went out, the room plunging into absolute darkness, even though it was midday outside. Mr Nope felt a chill and a fear that he hadn't felt in a long, long time...


Daisy returned to the shop a few hours later, arms overladen with all the items Mr Nope had asked her to pick up. When her mentor didn't immediately greet her, she assumed he was busy with his studies. She knocked on his door after putting away all the items acquired from her errands. A few moments passed and he did not answer. She opened the door and was greeted with the sight of her mentor's decapitated head impaled on a spike, his body spiked to the wall behind his desk with his entrails stretched across the room like garish garland...
 
Lisbeth and Frostine both felt a clench in their collective gut. Darien might not be able to separate them? If that were the case... what was she going to do? Frostine approached her master and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He was so young. He'd only been the High Mage for barely a handful of years, and he'd taken the position at the tender age of twenty. Her gaze met his eyes, the cool green of aged copper, and she smiled.


"I only ask that you try, Darien," she said quietly, "You're the most talented master I've ever had. I have faith in you."


"And my companions," she added louder, with a grin, "No, my friends... They are formidable in their own right. Each of them possesses incredible skill and talent. I'm certain that together we will succeed."


A warm feeling spread through her chest as she looked around the room at everyone.


"Together, we can do anything."


And she desperately hoped that was true, for even she wasn't sure who was speaking anymore.
 
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William's thoughts raced as Lisbeth laid out their predicament for the High Mage. Something was bothering him, an it wasn't just his desperate need to know if this world was real or not. No there was something else...


Two beings merged into one, needing to be separated. His mind flitted through every case he had ever read of, every rumor and bit of folklore he had prized out of street vendors and tavern-keeps and eunuchs and priests on a hundred worlds. There was something he was missing. He dearly wished to be back home in Black Iron House, with his books and notes and many tools. Something gnawed at the back of his mind.


Mirrors.


The realization slammed into him like a charging bull and he nearly cried out in surprise. Mirrors! The window of the true self. Dozens of faery tales and scriptures and histories spoke of their power and the deep magic that resided within them. Mirrors could cleave a mind, trap one's true self, show pathways untraveled or futures yet to come! And more importantly, Lisbeth had given him a mirror that might just be what they needed.


It was magical, tied to this world and to Frostine in particular, and...


And sitting somewhere in Black Iron House. The realization was like a heavy stone in his chest. He had not taken it from Lisbeth, he had let her place it on the desk in the study. He had feared her as a Writer and feared the mirror as a fragment of her power. He had let the House deal with it rather than handle such a thing himself.


William shook his head and cursed himself for a fool. All of his fearful suspicions had born true, he was himself the product and progeny of a Writer, yet the revelation had only made him more open to these strange folk, the Writer and the Artist included. He had had the tool to help Lisbeth at any time and he had left it aside because of his own stupid fears...


He thought about the splinter of Black Iron House that Lisbeth had given him. He wondered if now was the time to use it. He did not know exactly what it would do but he was fairly certain he could use it to pull something through in a time a need from Black Iron House or the Nexus.


And yet he didn't. Something told him that was a card to save for a more dire time. What could be more dire than this? he couldn't help but wonder. They would just have to find another mirror in this world that could be bent to the task. Surely that wouldn't-


His thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he became aware of a small weight in his vest pocket. It was not a familiar weight, but one he had not noticed until just now. He carried no pocket watch, so what...


His fingers slowly dipped into his pocket and felt something cool and round and metal. A shock went through him and he nearly reeled from the surprise. He slowly drew out the object only to find himself looking at the very same summoning mirror that Lisbeth had offered to Black Iron House as payment. He felt another chill run down his spine.


He couldn't have summoned it, his connection to Black Iron House was severed. So how? How had he come to have it just at the moment of need? Had Black Iron House ensured he had it before departing, or...


Or is this the manipulation of another Creator? William pushed that thought aside. It would lead nowhere good, and just now they had more important things to attend to.


Lisbeth finished her appeal to the High Mage with a gesture to William and her other companions. William cleared his throat and stepped forward, proffering the mirror for all to see.


"I believe I may have something that can help after all."
 
"The summoning mirror!" Lisbeth cried - or was it Frostine? - as she rushed forward to take the compact from William's outstretched hand, "William you're a genius! I could kiss you! Uh, except that I won't, because, um, you know. Anyway..."


She turned to Darien.


"Master, I think we can use this to summon Lisbeth out of me!"
 
William winced at her outburst, clearly the melding was advancing rapidly. This needed to be done with a clear head or they might end up doing something even worse to their Writer friend and the Snow-ma.


"I think," he interjected firmly, "that you meant to say that we can summon Frostine out of you, Lisbeth. The mirror is linked more closely to her, after all."
 
Lisbeth blinked, and it took her a moment to parse out what William had said.


"Oh. Yes. Yes, you're right, William. My apologies. We can use it to summon Frostine out of me, of course."


That did not bode well for how much time they had left.
 
Darien's eyes lit up when he saw the mirror. "That is exactly what we need! May I have it please?" The High Mage strode forward and held his hand out to Listine for the Mirror. After she handed him the Mirror, he took her hand and guided her to an open area of his study and proceeded to draw a magic circle on the floor around her. Once he had completed inscribing glyphs of protection around the circle, he stood and looked Listine in her mismatched eyes.





"What we are about to attempt is very risky and dangerous and will likely cause a bit of discomfort...Now, when you are ready, you merely need to place one hand on the surface of the mirror and say Frostine's name." Darien held out the Mirror towards Listine, a reassuring smile lighting up his youthful face. Listine took a deep breathe and tried to steady her nerves. As she reached out to touch the Mirror's surface, she heard a voice deep in her mind, a voice that she hadn't heard in what felt like forever...





"This is going to hurt, Writer, a LOT. Separating two beings from one another is difficult and taxing, but you just got to grit your teeth and get with it..." Lisbeth's other hand instinctively reached into her pouch and held on to the pocket watch, it growing warm in her hand. She grit her teeth then reached out and touched the Mirror. "Audry Frostine..." No sooner than she had uttered Frostine's name than it became inscribed on the Mirror, burning brightly as it was etched then fading to a dull glow.





"Ok, that was the easy part...Now, for the unpleasant bit..." Darien glanced at Lisbeth, a bead of sweat trickling down his brow as he prepared for the next part. He steeled himself and then began to recite the incantation that would summon the person bound to the mirror. No sooner than he uttered the last syllable than Lisbeth felt a searing bolt of pain shoot down her core, as if she were being ripped in twine. She staggered briefly and heard Darien shout faintly, as if through several feet of water, to stay in the circle. The pain made her eyes water and she didn't know how much more she could take. Her insides felt as if they were being pulled inside-out, her skin felt as if it were on fire, charring and peeling back while her hair singed. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder and the pain lessen ever so slightly. She looked up and through the haze of tears she thought she saw a familiar hooded figure...


Lisbeth collapsed inside the circle and everyone rushed forward to assist her. When she opened her eyes, they were both brown and they peered up into Forstine's icy blue eyes...
 
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She blinked the tears away as her vision gradually swam into focus. She was in the Mage's Tower of the Snow Palace, standing in Darien's study with the support of Darien himself on one side, his face slick with sweat as he breathed heavily. On her other side was... someone else. Her brain felt like overcooked oatmeal as she struggled to remember.


Genevieve. Yes, that was it. The woman supporting her left side was named Genevieve. Standing in front of her with a gentle smile was Frostine. To Frostine's left was a small, slight girl... Blott. And the tall gentleman with the glasses behind them was William.


And she herself was... Lisbeth. Lisbeth Walpurgis. There was some significance in that fact. What was it?


Hadn't there been someone else as well? A warm, comforting presence... She looked around, but there didn't seem to be anyone else with them. She must have imagined it. Everything was so muddled...


"What... happened?" she croaked, her voice a dry rasp, "What are we doing here? Ah! Oh, I feel just awful..."


Her whole body hurt, every inch. Even twitching a finger ached. She felt like she'd been hit by a bus after being run over by a team of oxen and dragged behind a train. And then someone had decided to use her for target practice with a bat.


"Thank the stars," Frostine said, happy tears cresting her eyes, "It worked. You're all right."


"I'm not certain I would say that I'm 'all right,' but I do seem to be alive, at least," Lisbeth chuckled.


Her laughter turned into a fit of coughing, and she hissed in pain as fresh tears pricked her eyes.


"Come," Darien said to Genevieve, "Help me carry her to my chambers. They're up that staircase, I'm afraid, but she needs to lie down and rest. I would teleport us there, were I able, but regrettably I am rather spent after that incantation. Frostine, fetch a healer, if you please."


Frostine bowed and placed a fist to her chest.


"Right away, Master," she replied, and she jogged from the room.


It was a struggle getting Lisbeth up the narrow spiral staircase, and she couldn't keep from crying out in pain several times, but at last she was reclining in a soft bed as the worried faces of her friends hovered over her. Of course. They were her dear friends. How could she have forgotten? A smile spread across her face as her eyes slid closed. She was so very, very tired after all.
 
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If Blott had to guess, Lisbeth was really, really out of it. But she guess being ripped in two would do that.


She trailed up the stairs with the rest the rest of the group, not really strong enough to help carry a full grown woman, but not wanting to be left behind in that weird study. And, if she was honest she was a little in awe of what she just saw too. Now that was some proper magic. This Darien guy knew what he was doing.


"She is going to be fine, right? Both of them?" Blott spoke quietly, giving voice to her only concern. Her words were muffled, the crow still wedged comfortably inside her coat front, "I mean, Frostine seems to be completely normal, but Lisbeth...sort of isn't."
 
William kept his voice low as he answered Blott, "I think she'll recover fully, but it was a very near thing separating them when they were that near to being fused. Frostine is most likely recovering faster because Lisbeth has a clear idea of who Frostine is. As for herself... that's going to take a bit more piecing together."


He glanced over at Blott and pitched his voice lower still.


"I haven't forgotten your request from earlier in all the commotion. It's not how I would choose to handle the situation, but I'll honor your request should the necessity arise."
 
A ghost of a smile flickered across Blott's face, "Sometimes there isn't time to come up with the best solution when any solution will do...but thank you." She shifted her weight a few times, "And if you...can retrain yourself from grabby dismemberment, we can discuss it rationally at a later date." Well, it wasn't perfect, but it was the best peaceable offering she could give at the moment.
 
After being assisted to the High Mage's private quarters and eased into bed, Lisbeth closed her eyes, a small smile playing across her lips as she slipped into unconsciousness...


Lisbeth sat at her writing desk, pen scratching away at the pages of her Book, Writing intently and oblivious to the figure standing in the shadows off to her side. After a few moments of silence, he stepped forward, startling her briefly. He wore a dark suit with a hood pulled up over his face...


"I'm relieved to see you survived the separation. That is not something that many can claim..." As soon as he started talking, Lisbeth felt a sense of familiarity but as she racked her brain, she could not think of Wher or When she had encountered him, let alone his identity. Nonetheless, he was a stranger and she swore there had not been anyone standing where he stood a second ago...
 
Lisbeth dismissed her Book and sat her pen down upon the desk. She donned her hat before standing to face the strange man, smoothing her skirts behind her. She cleared her throat.


"I beg your pardon," she began sternly, "but I must ask that you please explain yourself, sir. I don't know how you gained access to my study, or, more importantly, who indeed you are. Though, I must admit, there is something oddly familiar about you..."


She looked him up and down, as though sizing him up. A strange ache blossomed in her chest, drawing her a furtive step toward the figure, but no matter how hard she tried she could neither discern any detail of his face within the dark recesses of his hood nor recall anything about him. Every time she felt close to remembering something it would flit out of reach again. Just who was he?
 
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Lisbeth's Study: He begin to slowly walk around her, seemingly not really pay her or what she had said any mind as he looked around her study. "No need to get alarmed, Lisbeth Walpurgis, or shall I call you Writer..?" He came to a stop in front of her bookcase, his back to her, and traced his fingertips along the spines of a few of her books that lined the shelves. "You don't know me, though we have crossed paths more than a couple times here in the past few days..." He turned and looked at Lisbeth, bringing his hands up and lowering his hood...





Darien's Study: After assisting Lisbeth upstairs and into Darien's private quarters so she can rest, everyone headed back downstairs, except Frostine, who took watch outside her master's room, ready to be of aide to Lisbeth when she woke. Blott, William, and Genevieve followed Darien back to his workspace and pondered what to do next, now that their friend had been safely separated into her two beings...


Shanghai, 1930: Daisy wandered aimlessly down the back alley's of Shanghai, constantly looking over her shoulder. Someone or something of terrible power had murdered her master and left his remains on a grisly display. Panicked and terrified, Daisy had immediately fled the shop, the events immediately preceding and following her return from her errands that morning a complete blur. She only knew now that she had to keep moving, to make sure she wasn't found. In her hand, she clutched a note that she didn't remember picking up before fleeing. The last words of her master, "The Lance of Longinus has passed in and out of history since the dawn of Time. It's last location is obscured in mystery, but mayhap the Architect knows...Find the Architect..."
 
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As the man lowered his hood and revealed his face Lisbeth crossed the space between them, something surging within her that she could not name. She stopped barely a hand's breath away from him, reaching out with her left hand to gently touch his cheek. Her fingers traced the line of his angular jaw, smooth and clean shaven, as her eyes searched his, golden brown staring up into brilliant blue. When the lamplight caught his eyes they almost seemed to glow, like the dying embers of a fire. His hair was pale, closely cropped on the sides and back, the length on top brushed aside and back. Gods but he looked like he ought to be so young, and yet the weight of worlds lie in his eyes.


"Arkadious," the name was a whisper past her lips before she could even think.


Then her arms were wrapped tight about him, her head buried against his chest as her hat tumbled to the study floor, forgotten. She felt him stiffen in her embrace, as though, perhaps, surprised, but in that moment that only thing that mattered to Lisbeth was that he was there, he was real, and he was alive.





And yet...


Who was he? The realization hit her like the breaking of the dawn. She had barely met the man, and yet here she was embracing him like and old friend, or even as though he were her...


She pushed away, a blush flushing her cheeks as she scooped her hat from the floor.


"I-I-I-" she stammered, "I do beg your pardon, I'm uncertain what possessed me to, ah..."


She trailed off and paused, embarrassed. Taking a moment to place her hat upon her head (which she simply needed a moment to do properly; she was certainly not stalling for time), she cleared her throat.


"Your name is Arkadious Grimoire, is it not?" she asked, "You've been helping me since the beginning. What happened to you? Where have you been?"
 
For the briefest of moments, Lisbeth saw a glimmer of a smile play across his lips and then his face was back to a stoic mask. His piercing blue eyes held her gaze for a long moment before he turned away and resumed looking at the books lining her shelves.


"I've been...tending to other matters... The convergence of you and the others in the Sitting Room has been a significant shift in the Balance of the Cosmos and I've been trying to handle the ripples..." As he spoke, he walked around Lisbeth's study, absentmindedly rubbing his chest, as if trying to soothe an ache..."Your...Creation...has been especially problematic and is greatly threatening the balance of the multiverse..."
 
"My Creation?" she repeated, "Oh, you mean Thanatos. We've been trying to figure out how to, ah, take care of that, but things just keep... distracting us, I suppose. The next step is the Lance of Longinus. We need to find it. I believe that it is a weapon that is capable of destroying Thanatos once and for all. The only problem is that I have no idea where to even begin looking. We are waiting on some information currently, so hopefully we shall have a new lead soon, but..."


She trailed off. She felt like she was rambling, but tried to clear her mind and press on.


"Thanatos is a threat to the balance of the cosmos? Of the multiverse? How could such a thing have happened? I had thought that Thanatos was my problem to deal with. He's my Creation. As such, he truly is my problem, and I must be the one to put a stop to him. Especially if the scope of his threat is as large as you claim..."


She thought for a moment. This Arkadious fellow... he was mysterious, and she couldn't be sure of his intentions, but he did seem to be on their side. Perhaps he could help them even further.


"You seem to be privy to information that I am not," she told him, "And it appears to me that we seek a common goal. Why don't you join me and my companions?"
 
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Blott restlessly wandered the magicians' study, eyeing the books and trinketry that lines the tables and shelves. Most of it looked innocuous, but she was uneasy.


"Well, er, thank you for your help," Blott's said, more in Darien's direction than really to him. If she was honest with herself, she was scared of him, and magic in general. Less true, but still very real, was her concern this man too would label her dangerous, and there was one less friend willing to help save her this time.


Her crow popped it's head out the top of his owners coat and made a happy bird noise. Crows couldn't really coo, but it was similar. "I don't think...I mean, we aren't staying long, are we? Just until Lisbeth recovers?" She gave her friends and apologetic smile, "I'm not great with cold weather. I stay housebound when it's below 34. Fahrenheit, that it. Assuming we all use the same temperature scale. Anyway, I freeze up." She rolled her left shoulder to indicate her point.


She was babbling, and she knew it, but her nerves were getting the best of her. This room, more so that outside, reeked of magic. It made her skin crawl, and her arm burn.
 

Daisy dodged steam pipes and swirled around trash bins as her heart raced beneath her breast, sweat beginning to bead atop her forehead as she panted heavily. The note clutched in her palm was the only comfort her curiosity could feed off of as she pondered as to why she had to witness such gruesome actions. Strange people entered the shop as she prepared to make another batch of egg rolls for her master. They were near ready before she heard a thundering cry with blood painting the walls inside her petite shop. Inhaling sharply, Daisy shook the memory away as she tossed her head back to look behind her. She thought she was going mad, for she was almost certain that those strange, strange -- things, were following her. It took every nerve inside of her body to not shake and tremble, and run with the wind, for her hurried footsteps would probably draw them nearer and expose her; she walked fast in long strides, careful on her toes as she clung to the shadows and the little bits of hope and sanity she had left. The Lance of Longinus has passed in and out of history since the dawn of Time. It's last location is obscured in mystery, but mayhap the Architect knows. . .Find the Architect. . .


Architect, she wondered. What architect? There was only one architect in Shanghai that she knew of, and he most definitely could not feed her any answers. The only other Architect she has heard of was from her Master's lips, and he never went into further detail about him besides the fact that he was always watching. She should have went back and plucked his notes, goodness was she dull! Now, she regretted not paying attention to even the little things her Master had shared from time-to-time.
 
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The Artist looked about halfway ready to crawl out of her skin. William wondered what had her so unsettled, she had always struck him as a nervous sort but this seemed to be tipping in the direction of mania. Given her... condition, such a state was less than ideal.


"I'm sure we'll be departing soon," he tried to sound reassuring, "we have urgent business to attend to, after all. Lisbeth needs a brief rest and then we will need to be on our way." He thought about giving her a reassuring pat, as that seemed to be her primary mode of expression, but given how it had gone last time he touched her he decided to refrain. Her eyes were still darting around the study.


For his part, Darien didn't seem terribly interested in either of them. William couldn't decide if this was because he was busy with other concerns or if it was because he was "out of scene," so to speak. Trying to figure it out was only going to drive William to the same state Blott was working her way into. Perhaps a change of scenery was in order.


"I agree with you about the cold, Blott. Perhaps we should leave the High Mage to his business and take a look around? Somewhere a bit less crowded?"


As soon as he said it William realized just how that particular suggestion sounded. He swallowed a sigh and tried to look cheerful. He never could get the hang of people...
 
Blott raised an eyebrow, freezing in place to focus on William. Then she raised the other eyebrow. On one hand, William wanted to remove her arm. Or had wanted to, at least. Her eyes swept over the room again and resumed her anxious fidgeting.


On the other hand, he seemed dissuaded from that idea now and- she brushed against an odd telescope-eque tube that lay off the edge of a table, sending it clattering to the ground. On instinct, she reached to grab it as it fell, but flinched back as her bird gave a harsh cry, the sound echoing in her head and sending a rush of sharp needled pain through her skin. She watched it roll a few inches on the ground morosely. "Sorry."


She stuffed her arms onto the pockets of her coat and drifted towards the door. William's suggestion sounded better and better, and she told him so as she passed him. She could walk out the room into a glacier at this point. Anything was fine.
 
Genevieve suppressed a smile as her companions made awkward small talk and headed toward the door. She followed, barely noticing where William was leading them, her thoughts splintered.


Her friend Lisbeth lay upstairs. She would be all right. But who would she be now? Genevieve realized she had only known a Lisbeth fused with Frostine. What would the Writer be like when she was no longer a character in her own story?


Fitz was out there, in some When and Where she couldn't reach. Tristan had called him her lover, and while he wasn't quite that, Genevieve couldn't deny how much she longed to have him beside her again. She had hoped that once Lisbeth was healed they could search for him, but she had to acknowledge that she had no idea where to start.


And Tristan. He was out there, too. Searching for her. For them. Somehow the Knights seemed to be the enemy that bound this strange group together. Lisbeth had been pursued as well. But why? And how could this rag-tag band of misfits full of odd powers and old wounds stop them? It seemed impossible. At the moment, everything seemed impossible.


"Perhaps Mr. Nope will have found some information on the Lance," she ventured aloud. Her friends' surprised expressions made her realize she'd been lost in her own thoughts for too long, while they had settled into a companionable silence. "But we need to figure out how to get back there."
 
Lisbeth's Study: Again, that ghost of a smile played about his lips and then it was gone. He Looked at her for a long moment and then opened his mouth to speak. He was saying something but it was warbled and tinny, like he was speaking from a great distance even though he was only a few feet from her. She strained to hear him but it was to no avail, his voice seemed to get further and further away. Suddenly, Lisbeth was running down a long corridor, chasing after the specter of Arkadious as he drifted further out of reach, fracturing and splitting off down different hallways, growing darker and darker...





Suddenly it was bright. Lisbeth blinked her eyes repeatedly and looked around. Everything was a blur. She wasn't in her study, so where was she? As she racked her mind, trying to remember, she glanced to her side and on the nightstand, next to her pouches, was a pocket-watch, left open and glowing softly...


Shanghai, 1930: Daisy glanced back and saw the several shadowy forms, drawing nearer. She looked back forward and ran faster, tripping over some rubbish. When she glanced back again, she saw the figures even closer. And behind them she suddenly sees a pair of red hateful embers flare up. One by one the shadowy figures are ripped away and the embers draw closer.


A lilting playful voice pipes up "Oh, what a mess you have gotten yourself into, you poor little thing. Don't worry, his bark is much worse than his bite. Now, come with me, quickly, before more show up..." Daisy looked up to catch the brief glimpse of what appeared to be a young girl in a flowery print dress, hood pulled up nearly obscuring her features, save for the end of her long platinum braid and two brilliant blue eyes, cold as ice, before the girl turned and started walking down a side alley that Daisy could have sworn was not there a moment ago...
 
Lisbeth snatched up the pocket watch in her hand, some instinct screaming at her to do so quickly. A flare of pain seared through her hand as she heard the echo of a voice in her mind.


"... you wish me to join... made whole... find the Others... each one possesses... collect them... one already..."





She dropped the watch in her lap as both the voice and the glow faded. She looked at her left palm, still burning, and saw a round and angry red mark where she had gripped it. She rubbed it with her right thumb, wincing, and tried to take stock of herself and her surroundings. She was sitting in a plush bed with a canopy, all done up in deep red and violet hues. There were shelves and tables about the room with bottles, gadgets, and other knick knacks.


"This is Darien's room," she said aloud, and then it all came rushing back to her: her worsening fusion with Frostine, the jump to the Kingdom of Snow, their separation by Darien, and then... a dream. Arkadious. Something about Thanatos being a threat to the multiverse.



She grimaced. The entire universe was coming apart because of her Creation, and here she was lying in a luxurious bed. She swung her booted feet to the floor and leapt up... only to immediately fall back down on her rear on the bed, head swimming. Damn it all. She didn't have Frostine's healing factor anymore, of course. She looked down at herself and realized that her wardrobe had reverted as well. No more blue leather and fur; now she wore her old blouse, corset, skirts, and leggings of black, brown, and red. Even her brown top hat was on the nightstand.



She rose more carefully to her feet, strapped her pouches onto her right thigh, and fixed her hat upon her head. No time to waste.



Frostine was waiting outside the door to Darien's room when said door suddenly flew open as Lisbeth stumbled drunkenly out.



"Lisbeth!" Frostine cried, "What are you doing up?! The healer hasn't arrived yet!"



Lisbeth waved her off with a scowl.



"I am quite fine, I assure you," she said, gripping the door rather tightly, "We must be off with all haste, my companions and I. It is imperative that we not stay in this world any longer than strictly necessary."



She took another wobbly step out of Darien's chambers, then looked at the spiral staircase winding down in front of her. She swallowed.



"Although, I suppose if you wouldn't mind helping me down those stairs..."
 
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