#ignore the fact that that i have the aurum pass and all

[vanillajunmyeon]

dangerous to play love and deepspace in the car with my mom bc i pulled the 2nd 5 star rafayel card to unlock the god of the tides companion and i screamed and she got mad at me obviously

[seungkwan-s]

second chances | thirteen

previous | next

pairing; lee heeseung x female reader, ft second lead jay park x female reader

warnings; one mention of blood from a papercut

genre; a little angst, some comedy and fluff

word count; 1.5k

taglist; @staysstrays @iminchaosnow @preciousdeerchild @fylithia @wooyoung-a @katyasrussianaccent @geminirules @lix-freckle3 @bluejayjay @blossomnct @shrutiajit @itsyaapollochild @witheeseung @seungstarss @meiinumaki @dreamyeyes26 @punneysushi01 @gtfovi @hrrhmay @soobnny @zhaixiaowen @leagreenly @grassbutneo @aurumness @minkyunheewon @milkycloudtyg @youreverydayzebra @liliansun @itsamemarioo (can’t tag)

a/n: yo this is the moment everyone has been waiting for. this was way longer than i intended it to be. i'll have the texts and stuff back in the next chapters ♡

as you step back into the cafe, the warm air and the smell of a freshly made cup of coffee hits you. you sigh, catching the attention of ryujin who's leaning against the coffee machine picking at her fingernails.

"y/n, are you okay. what happened?" you put your face into your hands, taking a deep breath and before you can say anything, the door opens and in walks heeseung, jake and sunghoon—the three boys soaked from the rain.

"do none of you own an umbrella?" sunoo blurts out, "i literally have two with me, do you want one?"

you see jake shaking his head, and mouthing a "no, thank you" to sunoo.

your mind is clouded with thoughts of the conversation you shared with jay earlier, was this related to that day when he asked you how you'd feel if you two were soulmates? or are you already overthinking this?

ryujin can sense something isn't right with you, she's noticed immediately that you're not your usual happy self; all smiles and laughter and you haven't greeted the boys as you normally do, in fact, you haven't even looked their way since they came in.

how are you supposed to start things over with heeseung? do you hold off for now until jay gets over you or do you just focus on working things out with heeseung and leave jay to sort things out himself? no matter what option you go for, you're going to hurt someone...

"y/n, what's going on?" ryujin puts her arms around you and leans her head on your shoulder, "i don't like seeing you sad, who am i kicking for hurting my favourite person?"

you shake your head, looking around the café before turning to her, "jay told me he's in love with me, and he reacted quite badly when i told him i didn't feel the same. and it's now put me in a position where if i start a friendship again with heeseung, it's gonna hurt jay. but if i hold off on things for now, i'm gonna hurt heeseung and i don't want to hurt anyone, and i feel like whatever option i choose, i'm gonna be made out to be the bad guy,"

"i'm sorry, y/n but you can't help how you feel. if you don't feel anything for jay, you can't force yourself to feel feelings plus the fact—and i really hate to say it, but non-soulmate relationships aren't destined to work out. they always fail, you read so much about them on the news, on social media. if you want my honest opinion, i think you should do what makes you happy. and i know there is absolutely nothing wrong with you working things out with heeseung. he is your soulmate after all. just give jay some space, he'll be okay,"

you let out a sigh of relief, you know she's right. you're only rebuilding the friendship you once had with heeseung, you're not just going to jump into a relationship, these things take time, and with time, hopefully you and jay can be friends again. you just hope he's okay...

~

a yelp from the back end of the cafe pulls you from your thoughts, "oh heeseung, you idiot, a papercut, really?"

"oh calm down, jake, it's just a bit of blood,"

"dude, you need a band aid, hold on—y/n! we need you," ryujin passes you the first aid box before whispering a "good luck" as you take it out of her hands. you're kinda wishing you didn't know first aid because not only do you now have to talk to heeseung, you have to touch him as well. baby steps first, you thought but no, destiny wants to throw you in the deep end.

you slide into the seat next to heeseung and place the first aid box on the table in front of you, "who's injured themselves now, hm?"

"your soulmate is an idiot, y/n, who cuts themselves on paper?"

"you'd be surprised at how many papercuts i've had to tend to in here, jake, especially with how thick people's books are and the amount of studying that goes on in here. they're the smallest of cuts and can hurt a lot but it's nothing serious," you pull out one of the alcohol wipe packets including the small box of band aids.

heeseung puts his hand out willingly and you're thankful you didn't need to ask, as the nerves are already creeping up on you. the last time you were this close to him was when you two were kids and it pains you a little. you really missed him...

"how did you learn first aid?" ah. you chuckle, thank god he initiated the conversation because you didn't know how the hell to.

"i took a course online, riki's always injuring himself, he's clumsy and because our mom and dad are always away working, i thought i might as well take up a skill that's going to be useful—that and cooking,"

he winces a little at the contact of the alcohol wipe and the cut on his finger, "don't be a wuss, hee," ...and there it is, the nickname you gave him when you two were kids. heeseung ignores that tiny little feeling in his stomach, he doesn't know whether it's guilt because he stopped talking to you or if he really missed the nickname you gave him. either way, he feels awful about how he's let this go on for so long.

"y/n, i'm sorry," you pause, you look down at his hand as it's now holding onto yours. the contact making you feel warm.

"it's okay, heeseung, we were kids—kids fall out over silly things, we can start over, it's fine," now you're rambling and trying to not look at him, fear you won't be able to look away.

"y/n, please, look at me," you can hear the sadness in his voice, you know he means his apology but you're not angry at him at all. if you did something to hurt him when you were kids, you owe him an apology. you raise your head and look at him, and it's a weird feeling you feel. maybe it's because the last time you looked into his eyes like this was that day you fell off your first bike and he tried to put a band aid on your knee and you were so thankful that he was there to help you.

"i'm so sorry, for ignoring you for basically most of our lives, it was over something so silly and i hate that i let this go on for so long, and i hope you can give me another chance to make things right between us. as each year passed, i just felt awful but i didn't know how to talk to you anymore, i thought you hated me. to be honest, it made it easier for me if i just pretended i didn't like you," his voice lowers to a whisper as you now hold his hand ever so gently.

"hee, i don't hate you, i never hated you, i just wondered what i did wrong. i wondered what i did that was so bad that you just pretended like i never existed. i won't lie, it hurt a lot but i- i missed you and i want us to be friends again but i need to know what i did so i can apologise,"

he lets out a sigh and runs his fingers through his hair, he's looking everywhere just not at you, "it's so stupid but do you remember when we were painting together? we were out in your garden and you were painting the sunset and i was doing a rainbow. i had it finished and you knocked over your jar of blue paint and it spilled all over my paper. i got so mad at you that i thought you did it on purpose because i told you it was a present for someone but instead of telling you the rainbow was for you, i just left you there alone, went home and that's why i stopped talking to you,"

"that's why you stopped talking to her, heeseung, oh my god, YOU GUYS WERE FIVE YEARS OLD!!??" jake snapped, slamming his hand on the table. heeseung turned to glare at him but the feeling of your fingers caressing his hand brought his attention back to you and his face softened.

"that was an accident, hee, i would never have intentionally ruined something of yours. i'm sorry i ruined your painting, and i'm sorry i made you think it was out of jealousy," you look up at him and he gives you a smile, "it's fine, i'll just paint you another one,"

"you don't need to paint me another one, hee,"

"i don't need to but i'm gonna do it anyway," he sends you a wink and you just about crumble to the floor.

~

as the clock hits 10pm and the lights go out in the cafe, you stand outside in the cold air waiting for the uber to come and pick the three of you up to take you home.

"so, y/n, how did it go with heeseung?" sunoo asks you, his arm linked with yours.

"it went really good, actually. better than i thought but i'm still nervous,"

"nerves are normal, my love, the two of you are going to be fine, just invite me to your wedding, okay?" you playfully slap ryujin, "shut up,"

[lomiunknown]

Lady Aurum's Midnight Stroll

The smell of something interesting drew Lady Aurum from The Red Carpet that night. The end of her shift flew by in a haze, and as she retired her uniform and said her goodnights to the others, she was hardly there. No, there was something else out there.

Aurum stepped out the back exit and narrowed her golden eyes. Whatever it was, it was determined to stay out of sight, and even her superior senses couldn't quite discern where it was. It was like a subtle fragrance from someone who had just passed through. Still, she was sure whatever it was had no business being here in the first place, and Aurum knew it might come down to a fight.

She flexed her hand, allowing her power to seep out just a little. Hers was sweeter than most, but have too much of it and you'll get sick. Lady Aurum adored seeing that expression on those unfortunate enough to bask in her full power. Humans could never experience the soul of a demon like another of their kind, but the Golden Demon was powerful enough that she couldn't be ignored, even by mortals. There was very little she feared, and the creatures of the night knew to stay away from her.

Unfortunately her human side was very curious. A flash of her power was certainly enough to deter unwanted visitors, but she didn't want to scare them away just yet. Anyone who would visit a demon-run establishment such as The Red Carpet must be very interesting, and very bold.

The trail led her slowly away from the city, towards the wilderness. It was quiet at this time of night, even in such a metropolitan area, but the woods were silent. Not even the animals dared make a sound, and it felt as though it was only Aurum and this stranger now. Before, their auras were muffled by the crowd; Aurum couldn't even tell what she was following. But now, she knew the very familiar scent that was now all around her.

She was following an angel.

Lady Aurum salaciously licked her lips, and her eyes flared in the black night. "So, you decided to let me see you for what you really are... You shouldn't dangle steak in front of a hungry wolf." The air shifted, and Aurum quietly followed the breeze. The angel was moving deeper into the woods.

As she mingled with the drifting soul of the angel, it felt like they were having a conversation without words. The angel didn't say much, or really it was more like Aurum was being shushed. Whatever it had to say, the demon would just have to be patient. Their long walk led them to the head of a spring, trickling quietly down the hill, and it was here that the angel finally stopped.

Lady Aurum was drawn to where the small stream had dug out its path in the hill, the water flowing through the channel of a larger river that had ceased long ago. At the bottom was a black abyss, and an almost imperceptible whimpering sound. Aurum would have turned back, but something kept her there. She cursed under her breath.

As she approached the mouth of the cave, she saw one figure cradling another in her arms. The floral fragrance of the angel was now abruptly shoved aside by the potent smell of blood. She thought there could be something interesting here, but it was just another stupid hiker who fastened something wrong and ended up broken on a damp cave floor. Still, Lady Aurum hopped down to get a closer look.

The angel looked up at her, her face almost as pale as the hiker's, and eyes devoid of all light. So she wasn't masking her strength at all, she really was as fragile as a scent in the breeze... The demon sighed. "If you were looking for divine intervention, you're really looking in the wrong place. This really isn't my business..."

"Please, you have to help him, you're the only one..." God, her voice was just as pathetic as she looked. Aurum wondered who was really worse off in this situation. But the middle-aged hiker would certainly be dead if she did nothing, so she really didn't know.

She knelt beside them and conjured a gauntlet made of solid gold ribbons, the tool of her trade. The hiker looked terrified as he took in the sight, but Aurum recognized the desperation of one who would take anything he could get. So she began, reaching past the flesh and grasping onto his very soul. "Wait, you didn't tell me that—" Lady Aurum was struck by what she saw, and as she turned to the angel she suddenly knew why she was called here. This mangled mess of a man was something she could easily fix—even basic first aid would probably save his life—but his injuries weren't the problem.

The angel met her eyes briefly and then lowered her head in shame. "I've been doing everything I can, but it isn't enough... He only had a few months, and I... and I..."

"Don't you get that you're messing with Death?" Aurum barked at the crying angel. "He should have been dead years ago and you've been his life support all this time? How could you do something so stupid?" Aurum returned her attention to the hiker, and the angel's work was clearer. The man was barely functioning, but the angel was holding everything together, forcing him to stay alive like some kind of zombie. But her work did not carry the expertise of a surgeon, and it was clear that she had no idea what she was doing.

Aurum abruptly pulled her hand away. If it was this bad, there was nothing even she could do. And if she did heal this man, she knew that it was only a matter of time before the both of them wasted away. Of course angels couldn't understand this reality. But the man looked up at his angel with a knowing smile. "See, I told you so didn't I?" he said to her. "You've done all you can, dear... You have to let me go."

"No! She can fix you, you'll be all better!" the angel cried, before turning to Lady Aurum. "Aren't you supposed to help people? The hopeless and the desperate, isn't that what you do? I'll pay the price, just please save him..."

"He... he isn't the one that needs saving." Lady Aurum readied her golden gauntlets once more. "No matter what I do, his death is inevitable, such are the laws of nature. But if I end his life now, you can live. Still..." she gazed at the two of them huddled close, clinging to each other dearly, "...if you wish, you can spend your last moments here, together. And maybe, you can even be together in the next life. But I don't make those kinds of promises."

The two of them gave their consent, and Lady Aurum began her work. It wasn't glamorous work, burning sinners in glorious hellfire, nor was it even the self indulgent kind where Aurum would even participate in some sinning herself. No, it was the real work, the kind only she could do. Hell, no one else would do it since there's not even any benefit in it.

It didn't take long, or even much effort. For something as simple as this, Lady Aurum didn't even show her horns despite the fact that one of them was an angel. They closed their eyes and held each other in their arms before relinquishing their souls to the demon. Lady Aurum considered for a moment whether she should eat them or commit them to Hell, but as she held the two misty clouds of light she looked up at the moon peeking into the cave. "Whoops..." Her hands slipped, and the two of them drifted away into the night sky.

[demonicintegrity]

Kwat and Harris find out after the fact that Jamack was captured by Emilia?

Oooo a prompt! Took me a hot second to figure out what you wanted tho lmao. So how bout it’s set in a verse where Harris and Kwat live, but they’re still in the Mod Frogs and thus don’t really know what Jamack is up to.

Sure they had heard from colleagues that he had joined TheaOtters and they had heard about this Dr. Emilia he and Kipo was worried about. But they were too busy with other matters to really pay attention. The Mod Frogs had a lot to figure out now that Aurum had fell through. Harris and Kwat couldn’t afford to dwell on their former colleague, knowing he was alive and seemingly safe was enough for them to push him out their heads.

Then this HMUFA thing started. Ms. Sartori laughed at it, all Mod Frogs did, they were expected to get along with snakes and wolves? Fat chance! They ignored the offer. Thought that’d be the end of it. Then the reports starting coming in and they were odd. There was a lack of mutes on their borders and at some point it seemed like the Dubstep Bees had left completely! It made the frogs scratch their heads in confusion.

Then “Prahm” was being held. Ms. Sartori laughed at it again. Humans were trying to apologize to mutes? Mutes were going to dance and eat alongside humans? Laughable, like that’d ever work. However, Ms. Sartori figured there’d be useful information to be gathered with such a variety of mutes in one area, so she sent Kwat and Harris to go join Prahm. Just to gather information, see where the mutes have been what they’ve been up to.

Harris and Kwat arrived and were genuinely surprised by the amount of mutes and humans there. After an awkward start, things seem to have started to get a roll on.

The two Mod Frogs didn’t give Kipo much conversation when she said hi, opting to stay to the sides and just watch. The interactions happening were interesting to them. Some mutes were genuinely starting to get along with humans. It was surprising. Harris looked off to the side and saw Jamack, for a second his jaw dropped. The former colleague was dancing and laughing! Having fun!

Harris elbowed Kwat and shared a look. They didn’t think about Jamack being here. With a curt nod from Kwat, the two made their way over to him. He was dancing with some human. Not one to care if he interrupted his fun, Harris tapped on Jamack shoulder.

He turned his head and his expression immediately changed from happiness to shock.

“Harris? Kwat?”

“Yea.” Harris said curtly. “Come talk?” He tilted his head towards the tables.

Jamack nodded and after saying something to the human he was dancing with, followed the two to the table.

They sat down and after a beat of awkward silence, Jamack spoke first.

“What are you two doing here? I thought Ms. Sartori laughed at the Human and Mute Ultimate Friendship Alliance?”

“She did.” Harris said. “But she said a function like this is too good to pass up. Sent us here to see if we could figure out what’s been going on with the other gangs.”

“Well not a whole lot since Emilia started her attacks. All of them here were hanging out with the Timbercats up until a few days ago.”

“What!?”

“No way.”

Harris and Kwat were shocked.

“They were staying with Timbercats? Even the Wolves?” Kwat asked, earning a nod from Jamack. “Why!?”

“Well Emilia was after us all. And after some mutes were captured a week or so ago, they joined HMUFA for protection.”

“Emilia captured mutes?” Harris was grilling Jamack now, not caring that he needed the information for his report but more for his own shock and curiosity. “Where? Who? She really was trying to devolve them?”

“Yea she was. Still might be? I don’t know. Her and the humans she’s with are based on boat somewhere.” Jamack said, fairly patient with the two frogs who were really out of the loop. “They got a humming bomber, an umlat snake, a narwhal and me. Kipo came-“

“She got you!?” The two frogs said in unison, loud enough to draw some looks.

Jamack was taken aback, Harris and Kwat never really got loud in conversation before. Especially not Kwat, even in the worst of arguments she kept her voice cool. It took Jamack by surprised, but what was more surprising what the level of concern in their voice and face.

Harris was frowning, his teeth showing as his mouth was open and his eyes on Jamack, concern written all over. Even Kwat looked concern, her eyes also trained on him, looking him up and down as if to try and spot an injury. Her breath caught in her throat. They both were leaned forward, hands gripping the table. Jamack had never seen such an obvious concern for him from those two before.

He cleared his throat. “Yea.” He said, looking away to avoid their gaze. “She had got me when I was coming back to camp with TheaOtters. She used some dart and it knocked me out.”

Telling the specifics of his capture out loud made him feel bad and he didn’t know why. Feeling the gaze of his former friends filled with such worry didn’t help with it at all.

“But I was fine! I’m fine!” He said looking up at them. “I was lucky, Emilia seemed to have messed with the humming bomber most. Plus, Kipo came shortly after and saved us so it’s all fine!” He was trying to assure the two. “She’s really amazing at what she does, she’s the one who organized HMUFA and Prahm, she’s doing great things and improving mute-human relations!”

Kwat and Harris calmed down a little bit, actually breathing and regaining their composure. The two took a moment to process what he had said. Jamack nibbled on some pancakes to do something than just sit there with them, feeling unable to talk for once.

It was awkward silence for a bit before Harris sighed, earning a look from both Jamack and Kwat. He reached forwards to put some pancakes on his plate.

“Guess Mod Frogs really missed a lot not being in this alliance, huh?” He stated, picking at his pancakes.

“I guess so.” Jamack was unsure of what else to say. “But maybe you could convince her to join after this? I mean, it seems to be doing good despite.... setbacks.” He looks to the side and spots Amy holding Brad and a pain fills his eyes.

Kwat and Harris follow his gaze when they noticed the change in tone and gasp, quickly looking back at him.

“No.” Kwat gasped.

“Yes.” Jamack said rather grimly. “She got a few.”

“Then why are they trying to get along now!?” She hissed out. “The damage has been done! How could they forgive that!?”

“I don’t- I mean...” Jamack looks up to gather his thoughts. “I don’t know. It’s up to each mute I guess. Many didn’t want to come and forgive them. But I think they’re trying anyways because... a future where we each got along is appealing. It’s nice. And it would make everyone live better I think.”

“And you?” Harris asked. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna forgive them for trying to take your... your mind away!”

“I mean—“ Jamack looks at Harris. “It sucks yea and I didn’t like being captured or the thought of being cured but I’m talking to these humans and it seems like they just didn’t know! They didn’t know mutes were anything but some barbaric animals who hurt. And hell, after Scarlemange mind controlled them I don’t exactly blame them for being scared!”

Kwat and Harris stared at him in pure disbelief.

“What? Wouldn’t you two be fearful if you were brought to the surface only to see every mute cheering on for your enslavement?” He asked incredulously. “Don’t tell me you’d believe that mutes would be something more than just animals looking for their own gain.”

They both opened their mouths a couple times but nothing came out. They just looked at him, with shocked faced still processing the fact that he’d forgiven humans for this, for capturing him. The Jamack they’d none had held grudges and beaten mutes for far less.

A lot really has changed. Jamack has changed. The relationship mutes have with each other and humans is changing. It confused the two Mod Frogs, shocked them, and also made them upset for some reason. How was this going to change things for the Mod Frogs? How was Jamack alive and okay and sane after all that?

“You’re fucking crazy.” Harris said with a dry chuckle.

“No. I’m happy.” Jamack said with a smile and eyes full of pity. “I’m happy to be getting along with others instead of fighting them all the time Harris. Believe it or not, these pass few months have been pretty good despite everything since I don’t have to intimate or scare other mutes. I get to just... do whatever I guess.”

Harris shook his head slightly as Jamack kept talking.

“I’ve taken up singing, I hang out with Kipo and her friends and with TheaOtters often, hell I’ve been learning how to mediate from a raccoon! Things are oddly nice when you’re not focusing on work and reports and being professional all the time.”

Kwat scoffed.

“I’m serious! Life without the Mod Frogs has been pretty okay! It took a while for me to be happy with it but I’m doing pretty good now. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy and relaxed before. And I’ve been getting to know humans both here at Prahm and the few with Kipo, and they’re actually pretty cool. They’re not cruel and once they get over their anxiety they’re kinda fun to be around.”

Kwat and Harris couldn’t believe what they were hearing.

“I’m just saying,” He took a breath after really looking at their shocked expressions. “Give them a chance. They’re not that bad. Not even the other mutes are that bad. We’re all on common ground actually, we just wanna live feeling safe.”

Jamack looked out to the dance floor, his attention caught by Kipo being excited. Looks like Scarlemange and Wolf are finally here. He smiled. Kipo looked very happy.

Kwat and Harris were stunned silent by Jamack, still trying to process everything he was saying. How could do much have happened? How could he change so much?

And the night wasn’t even close to being done.

[ma-lemons]

fairytales at the fireplace (april 2- book/favorite story)

I’m quite sad I skipped three? days but I’ve been really busy. And now I’m posting April 2 on April 4. @rwbyrosegardenweek

———————————————

Qrow settled down on the floor, while the others sat around him, near the fire.

It was dark in the room, save for the brightly lit fireplace. Weiss and Blake shared a blanket. Yang was on the couch, with a blanket of her own. She was to fall asleep any minute from now, but protested against falling asleep.

Ren, Nora, and Maria were settled underneath a large quilt Maria had knitted in her free time. Jaune was his infamous onesie and claimed “He was too fuzzy to need a blanket”. That left Ruby and Oscar, who had to share the only blanket left. How convenient.

“Where are the other blankets?” Qrow asked, eyeing Oscar with suspicion.

“I looked, I swear! They all had holes in them,” the boy replied, panickedly.

“A blanket’s a blanket, kid.” Ruby had glared at her uncle to quit pestering Oscar so the old bird cleared his throat.

“Ahem. Fine. So we’re gathered here to retell a story. One of Summer’s favorites. Never told this one to you two when you were younger,” Qrow said, a bit regrettably.

Ruby looked down sadly when she heard her mother’s name. Yang murmured a sleepy, “mom”.

Qrow sighed. “Yes. Well, here it is. I’m telling it from memory, so bear with me. Once upon a time...”

———————————————————————-

In two lands far, far, away, lived the Aurum and the Argenti peoples. They had been rivals for centuries, but no one really remembered why.

The Aurum people were of a noble and intelligent sort, many of them wizards.

The Argenti people were a smaller group, full of fierce warriors that destroyed the creatures of the night.

The Aurum typically had magical abilities that surpassed others. They had the ability to levitate, duplicate, and talk to to the dead, depending on their strength. Aurum people had golden eyes.

The Argenti people were not only a brave group of fighters, but some of their warriors possessed special silver eyes, a rare and wonderful power.

Who were stronger? Some said the Aurum; many of them had ancestors who were wiped out by the god of destruction. Some say the Argenti, who had many of their own destroyed by an ancient witch. Only a few of both tribes have survived.

Off in the Aurum land, there lived a young boy. He was the apprentice to the Great Wizard, the most powerful of the Aurum people.

The Great Wizard, from a very young age, was convinced that the Aurum and Argenti people could live in harmony one day. As time passed, however, that dream was never fully recognized.

The young boy thought his master was ridiculous. In fact, he thought him learning magic was ridiculous. He was one of the few Aurum people without magic.

Every day, the boy would ask his master, “Why am I your apprentice, when I have no magic?”

And the Great Wizard would reply, “You do have magic. It is only a matter of time.”

The boy would hear around town the rumors of the Great Wizard being crazy and nonsensical, and the boy felt embarrassed to be his apprentice.

He would go and ask again, “Master, why did you choose me? I have no magic.”

The Great Wizard would laugh. “You do have magic. It is only a matter of time.”

The boy, frustrated, stormed away. He considered running away, but returned dutifully the next morning to do his daily chores. Cleaning the hall, dusting the prayer mats, shining the portraits of all the Great Wizards before this Great Wizard. If he wasn’t cleaning, he was flipping through old spell books.

It was quite funny to the boy, all the Great Wizards seemed to have the same twinkle in their eyes.

Snapping out of his trance, the boy went back to work. He wondered if he was actually being trained to be a street-sweeper.

————————-

In the land of the Argenti, there was a young girl who was training to be a silver-eyed warrior. She was one of the lucky ones, whose silver eyes gave her the ability to wipe out the creatures of the night. She was no ordinary Argenti girl.

Her master, was a wrinkled elder, who was losing their sight.

“Master, I’ve been training day and night. My final test will to be to defeat the creature on the mountain. Am I ready yet?” she would ask.

“No, my child. I may be blind, but I can see that you are not ready yet.”

So the young girl would sigh, but continue on with her training anyway.

That’s how the days always went. The girl would practice with the other children, then go train with the elder alone. They were always so adamant about keeping fit, even though the girl believed her powers were enough to defeat anyone.

She was headstrong and loud, but could be compassionate at times.

“Master, may I complete the ritual on mountain yet?”

“No!” her master yelled, smacking the girl’s hand with a spoon. They proceeded to pat the girl’s back. “Not yet.” The elder looked out the window, where the floating pieces of the moon were gravitating towards one another.

“When then?” the girl asked.

“Soon. Very soon.”

—————————————————————-

The young boy woke up bright and early the next morning, and set to feeding the chickens around the temple. Before beginning his morning chores, there was a shout from beyond the temple grounds.

“Isn’t it quite boring being cooped up with the Great Wizard all day?” a boorish voice yelled to him.

The lad knew it was one of the burly boys who tormented him often. Becuase the bully possessed the ability to move things with his mind, he thought he was the cream of the crop.

“Hush. Don’t disrespect the Wizard on his grounds.”

“I wonder why he picked you. You don’t have any magic. Must’ve lost his mind after all,” the bully guffawed.

The boy trembled, the bucket of seed in his hand shaking slightly.

“Oh, are you going to send me flying? Oh wait, you can’t. But I can,” he smirked. Before the boy could run away, he felt himself floating above the ground. Suddenly everything was upside down as the bully burst into laughter.

The boy felt lightheaded. He was being tossed like a rag doll. When the bully couldn’t contain himself, the boy finally fell into a mud puddle.

“Serves you right! You, the Great Wizard? I don’t think so.”

The bully continued down the path, and the boy, angered, stood up and ran inside the temple, without cleaning himself or removing his sandals.

“Master! Master! Where are you? I demand you teach me magic! I have done nothing but clean and cook and clean and cook! Teach me!”

The boy roared fiercely, but there wasn’t a reply.

He ran frantically all over the house, tracking mud everywhere. He finally stopped inthe prayer room. There, on the ground in front of him, was a note, written hurriedly with fresh ink.

I have gone to the mountains to meditate. I will be back tomorrow morning. My intuition told me the temple might get dirty while I am away. Please make sure it’s clean.

The boy ripped up the note and sighed. He might as well get to work. The bully was right; he would never learn magic.

At the end of the day, he was exhausted and weary, but the temple was clean. He ate his meal and retired, waiting for the Great Wizard’s return the next day.

The sun rose and the boy continued on with his day, ignoring the taunts of the more powerful Aurum. His master was to be home soon.

Several hours passed. His master had not returned.

The Great Wizard had never broken a promise. Where was he?

But then the boy remembered that he was promised magical abilities and had yet to see them. Maybe the Wizard wasn’t so great after all.

Soon, it was evening, and the moon was beginning to come into view. It looked peculiar tonight, almost as if it was whole. The moon was never whole. Never.

Well, once in a millennia, he was told. But he couldn’t quite remember why that was significant.

Still, when his master hadn’t come back, he began to worry some more.

So, he packed a bag, stuffed with cheese, bread, and water. An invisibility charm. One could never know when it would be necessary. Ointment and herbs in case of an emergency. And his master’s stick.

His stick? The old, gnarled cane that the Great Wizard carried along with him at all times? He never left it behind... he could be in a lot of trouble.

Suited with his pack and the stick, the boy headed out of the temple.

Suddenly, a thought occured to him. There were no mountains in his land. The only mountains were in the land of the...

Argenti. Their enemies.

There was a mountain range, and the highest peak scraped the top of the skies. That’s where his master was.

So magic, or no magic, he was going straight into the heart of the deadly warriors. Thank the gods for the invisibility charm. It only lasted for small intervals at a time, so he would only use it when crossing the border into Argenti lands.

—————————————————

The young girl had finished her training, blasting wooden dummies with her eyes all afternoon. Exhausted, at night, she returned to her home.

Day after day, all she did was dummy practice. She wanted to be a fully-fledged silver-eyed warrior. But she was stuck with the basics. Again.

The old woman seemed to fiddling with something at the table.

She coughed when entering the home, starling the old woman, who hurriedly hid the object behind her back.

“What is that?” the girl asked.

“Nothing. The moon’s pieces have come together, have you noticed?” the sage muttered.

“What are you hiding from me?”

“How often do these pieces come together?” the elder asked instead.

“Wha—“

“How often do they come together?” she asked again.

“Once in a millenium,” the apprentice grumbled.

“Yes.”

“That still doesn’t answer—“

“You may complete your ritual tonight. Take nothing with you. You must spend an entire night on the highest peak and defeat the creature of night that lives there.”

“What?” the girl’s eyes widened. “Truly?”

“Yes. You are ready.”

The girl’s smile reached from ear to ear. “Thank you, master.”

The girl began to turn away when the old woman stopped her. “Take this.” Her palm stretched open to reveal what she was hiding: a simple gold band.

“Gold? There’s no gold here,” the girl asked in confusion.

“There’s gold in Aurum.”

“You went to Aurum?”

“I had a friend in Aurum. The band is magic, so it will fit your finger nicely. Guard it well, it is my prized possession.”

“Thank you, master. I won’t let you down.”

The girl slipped the ring on and disappeared into the night. It was her first step to become a real silver-eyed warrior. Nothing or no one would stand in her way.

——————————————————

The young boy slipped through the Argenti forest. He had managed to evade the bazaar where flaming swords were being sold, arrows were being thrown about, and warriors were sword-fighting. Though he was invisible, he was still liable to getting injured.

Being magic-less was quite hard. He wondered how the Argenti survived. Well, they did possess a sort of magic. A magic of their own, their brute force. It was only a small population of theirs that had the ability to completely decimate everything around them. He didn’t want to come across any of those.

He soon reached the mountain and began to climb up.

Qrow broke from the story to say this. “It’s a fairy tale, so it takes, like, minutes to get up the mountain.”

He soon reached the peak, and expected to see his master there. But he wasn’t. Instead, there was a cave, where a menacing glow shone from. Scared, the boy paused at its entrance.

Suddenly, he swallowed his fear. All he had left for him was the gnarled staff. If he needed to, he would fight off any beast to save his master. Great Wizard or not, the being was getting quite old. He could’ve been... kidnapped by some bear... lion... thing.

So with a final inhale, then exhale, he plunged into the cave.

———————————————-

The girl was one of the fastest people in all of Argenti land. So she reached the peak quite quickly. It wasn’t as chilly as she thought.

She saw a cave as she reached the top. The wind whistled. Something seemed off. The milk was big, round, and white. Never in the girl’s life had she seen something quite like this. It was quite mesmerizing.

It felt as if someone else was here with her. But she didn’t have time to get nervous. There was a wail from inside the cave, thunderous and booming.

She had her eyes, her master’s ring, and her dagger that she secretly hid in her left boot.

Then she went in.

—————

The boy couldn’t believe his eyes. Before him, was a large creature, made of shadow and darkness. He could see it because of the fire that was lit in front of it. It took the form of a dragon, but it was all wispy shadows. It wailed and thrashed around.

Why did it cry like that?

He soon got his answer. As he peeked into the cave’s end, he saw a bright flash.

“Augh!”

That was the yell of the Great Wizard. The man was trying to fight the beast by himself!

The boy had never seen a beast quite like this, and had never seen the Great Wizard in action. His robes were torn and his face was dirtied with mud and blood.

The dragon-beast shrieked again, clutching the Great Wizard in its claws. The shadow creature seemed to glide across the cave, shaking the earth wherever it touched.

He felt the rumbling. He was frightened. Terrified, actually.

But he had to. He had to save this man, who had denied him magic for all this time. Some part of him couldn’t leave him alone.

It was insane for a non-magical person to fight something like this.

But people already thought of the boy as insane for being the old man’s apprentice anyway.

He crept into the cave, and realized that he was invisible. He could do anything he wanted now!

“Hey, you oaf! Let him go!” he shouted, throwing the chunk of cheese at the beast. It completely went through it. Of course.

He heard his name, weakly, and saw that his master was looking at him, within the grip of the beast.

“Master!” he called. Wait. How did he know it was him?

The beast’s glare answered that for him. Guess the invisibility had worn off.

“What are doing here? It’s too dangerous!”

“No, master! I’m here for you!” the boy yelled, holding up his staff.

“Go home! Save yourself!”

“No!”

————————————————-

The girl watched as the foolish boy argued with the geezer in the beast’s clutches. She had to admit, she had never seen a shadow creature like this. It was huge.

She wondered which silly Argenti boy found himself up here. With his silly master, too.

She blinked a few times. Showtime.

She entered the cave. She shouted out her name. “I am a silver-eyed warrior of the Argenti people and I will destroy you on this fateful night!”

With that declaration, the one she had memorized countless times, she closed her eyes, in preparation to blast them at the creature.

“No!”

The wind was knocked out of the girl’s lungs as she fell to the ground. Something... or someone had landed on top of her. Very heavy too.

“Ugh...”

She opened her eyes, blinked them twice and saw that it was no Argenti boy who was in the cave. It was an Aurum boy. She should’ve been able to tell by his weirdly-colored attire.

“What are you doing on Argenti lands?” she roared, pushing him off of her.

“You were about to kill my master!” he cried, pointing to the beast.

“And? You deserve it as a punishment for crossing the border. How did you even do it?”

The boy didn’t get time to answer, as the beast flung him to the other side of the cave. It let out its horrible wail again.

The girl stood up, prepared to use her eyes again.

Then the old man caught her eye. He looked wrinkled, frail... weak.

What if that were her master? The sage? What if they had been kidnapped by this very same beast?

She eyed the boy, who was trying to avoid the beast’s jaws by throwing... bread at it?

“Stupid! Do you not have any magic?”

“Unfortunately, no!” the boy yelled back.

The girl groaned. Weren’t Aurum people good at levitation magic?

She apologized to her master and pulled off the ring. “Beast! Look! Instead of Aurum flesh, what about real gold?”

The girl tossed the ring to the opposite end of the cave, and the beast went after it, unfortunately, without letting go of the old man.

The boy was free and the girl ran over to him. She helped him up. Touching an Aurum person was not on her to-do list for the day.

His hand was warm at least.

“No magic? At all?”

The boy picked up a staff, with a bright green gem within it. “I’m sorry, no.”

“Then how do you expect me to save your master alone? My magic will only destroy the beast. Which is why I’m here.”

The boy snorted. “Well, my master is in trouble, so if you’ll excuse me,” he murmured.

“No!” she shouted, stopping him.

“If we have to fight it, it must be defeated with magic. Not cheese and bread. Is that staff of yours powerful enough?”

“I don’t know what it does exactly...”

The girl groaned; the boy was hopeless.

Suddenly, the girl began to feel tingly all over.

Her eyes started to glow of their own accord.

“Uh... what’s going on with you?” the boy echoed.

“I... I don’t know! I can’t control it!” the girl yelled.

The boy inched away from the girl, just as the beast whirled back on him. Its shadows swirled more and more, as if it was not satisfied with the gold that was thrown at it. The boy glanced at his master, who he found was unconscious. It broke the boy’s heart.

“Let him go!” he shouted, holding out his staff to the beast. The Argenti girl was in her own zone, and his master could be as good as dead. He was the only one left.

As the words escaped his lips, he felt his body begin to glow. The beast screeched and began to move back.

“You’re golden!” the girl yelled.

The boy turned back to her. She was covered in silver light. “Your eyes glow too. Like mine.”

He finally got his magic. Grinning, the boy turned back to the beast. He pointed the staff at his master and willed the beast’s claws open. As his master fell, a glow overtook him, and the boy settled him gently on the ground.

Now the girl could destroy him as she wished.

As he turned back to face her, the beast gave another bellow, but it was harsher this time. His magic wasn’t enough.

“Give me your hand!” he yelled.

“What?” she screamed back.

“We can only defeat it together. I read it an old spell book that two magic users are better than one!”

The girl knew this was her mission, but the strength of her eyes was too much, even for her. She couldn’t even focus her vision at the beast.

The two then joined hands. Argenti and Aurum. Wizard and Warrior.

Eyes directed at the beast, on the count of three, all their strength was poured towards the beast.

Then, it was dark.

——————-

The next morning, the air was quiet. The girl woke up, and found the boy next to her. Her head hurt, and around her, the boy’s pack was strewn around, and the old man was still lying in the corner.

Moving away from the Aurum boy, the girl shifted around in the dim light until she found her ring.

She whispered a relieved thanks under her breath and pushed the ring down her finger.

“You have their ring?” a quiet voice asked.

The girl whipped her head back around to see the old man, standing near her. She jumped up.

“Their ring? My master?”

“Yes. I gave it to them a long time ago.”

The girl was in shock. The frail man from last night suddenly towered over her, his skin had some color to it (a bit dirty) and his eyes were bright gold.

“You’re... friends?”

“Legend says that the Argenti and the Aurum were friends long ago. Do you even know why our lands hate one another?” the man asked.

The girl thought. “No... that’s just what we were raised to know.”

“Exactly. I don’t think our lands will be friends anytime soon...” the man trailed off, looking at his apprentice, “but this is a good place to start.”

“Argenti and Aurum? Friends?” the girl scoffed.

That’s when the boy woke up.

“I mean, he just got his powers yesterday? He’s supposed to be a Wizard?”

“Actually, he’s supposed to be the Great Wizard. The next one.”

The girl’s eyes widened. “You’re telling me... you’re the most powerful Wizard of all time? And you couldn’t defeat this creature?”

The man chuckled, and snapped his fingers. Before her eyes, her master appeared before her.

“I could’ve. Let’s say... it was a test,” he grinned.

The Wizard smiled at the sage, who in turn glanced at their pupil.

“You’ve done well. You’re a true silver-eyed warrior. But I’m glad you realize that Argenti and Aurum can be friends.”

“You two... are friends?” the Aurum boy piped up.

His master turned to him. “I see you have gained your powers. Congratulations.”

“So this was a whole set up to test us?” he asked, bewildered.

“No... the creature was very real. But I chose to not fight it in hopes you two would get here in time.”

The boy could hardly believe what he was hearing but more importantly, he was glad he could zap a bully when he needed to.

“So. How do you two feel?” the mage asked.

The girl stared at the boy. Really looked at him. His eyes were a pretty gold. Silver was still better.

“Is there something on my face?” he asked, patting his face frantically.

“No, you idiot.”

“Who are you calling an idiot?”

The Great Wizard turned to his old friend then, who chuckled.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, old sage?”

“Quite.”

The apprentices started bickering. Until the elders broke them up.

So the Grand Wizard, the sage, and their apprentices left the cave, and the mountain. And strolled right Argenti grounds. It took a flash of silver eyes to get people to disperse.

“We’re friends! Friends!” the girl said before slamming the door.

Inside, the Great Wizard blinked, and the gold band ended up in the palms of the sage. The Wizard and the girl went to go make tea, as the sage stopped the boy in the hall.

“She dropped this. Give it to her, will you?”

“Isn’t it yours?” the boy asked.

“It’s now hers. A symbol of her new Aurum friend.”

“I don’t really think she meant what she said out there...” he started, but the elder was already down the hall.

He found her in the kitchen, pouring tea into cups on a tray.

“Uh... this is yours,” he said, holding out the ring.

“Oh... thanks,” she murmured, lifting the tray. “I’ll get it in a minute.”

“Actually, here.” Quickly, he floated the tray with his mind. “It’s easier.”

“Wow, you have magic for a day, and you’re already showing off,” the girl laughed.

The boy thought her silver eyes were kind of cool. But they weren’t gold, of course.

The boy took her hand, and she didn’t protest. He slipped the band onto her ring finger, watching it fit on her finger.

“Gold’s nice on you,” he commented.

“Really? Still like silver better,” she smiled. “Let’s bring the tea to them before it gets cold.”

So moving his magic along, the boy left the kitchen with the girl. The girl took the opportunity to snake her hand into his. He didn’t shake it off.

This didn’t mean that the two lands would be close anytime soon. But the two apprentices, the next Great Wizard and the silver-eyed warrior began to see their masters differently. And each other.

The end.

————————————

“Yep. That’s it.”

Qrow yawned, before looking around. Yang was comepletely asleep, as was Weiss and Blake, who were slumped up against each other. Maria had disappeared, most likely into her room. Ren had most likely retired too, leaving Nora and Jaune, who were at odd angles on the floor. The only other people awake were Ruby and Oscar. Oscar was a bit sleepier, but he was still awake. Ruby looked at her uncle.

“You said you’d tell the story from memory. All I heard were exact details. This is a fairy tale?” Ruby murmured.

“Well, there’s a condensed version, obviously. But Summer never cut corners. She had the original copies, the long versions that no one liked to read anymore. I thought you’d appreciate it.”

Ruby glanced at Oscar. “I do. It was a nice story. Thanks, Uncle Qrow.”

“No problem kid.” The old bird stood up, and dusted himself off. “Get some sleep. Both of you.”

“Goodnight,” the two murmured to him.

Almost everyone else was sleeping in the living room, so Ruby had no problem doing the same. Her mind raced with stories of magical eyes, kidnapping, and friendship. It reminded her of so many things. Her mother, herself, Oscar... it was nice.

Ruffling his hair, Ruby pulled them both down for the night. The floor was hard, of course, but they were too tired to care. Content, they fell asleep together.

[stories-by-rie]

#1 Jeanne Everley

Jeanne Everley.

  If there was someone who didn’t speak her name as she walked pass them, they at least thought it. This wasn’t due to her looks which clearly couldn’t count as exceptional. With her short dark blonde hair and pale white face, she wouldn’t be able to catch the attention of a whole school at once.

No, what made Jeanne so special was her heritage. It should be clear from the beginning that her presence there alone was outrageous at best. After all, she was the daughter of Alastair and Victoria Everley. The couple that had turned the whole Searcher’s Society upside down only a few decades ago.

  Call it what you want: dishonoured, expelled, fallen out of favour – they had succeeded on every level to turn into Searchers that no one dared to speak positively of.

Not only that, but also did they raise four children of which every single one had tried to follow their footsteps by applying to the Searcher’s School of Guhlsdorf. Obviously, none of them had been taken. None except of the youngest, Jeanne Everley.

  With her straight posture, soft steps and kind smile on her face, she walked down the old-fashioned corridors.

  The floor was tiled in a dark brown, the walls were lined with dark timber that nearly looked red under the yellow light. There was a special smell that hung in the air, some strange mix of  lavender cleansing agent and time. The Searcher’s School of Guhlsdorf was very prestigious and founded more than six hundred years ago. A fact that they liked to be proud of, and a fact that gave them the right to be ignorant when it came to their own mistakes. Though, let’s not dwell on that, the future will hold plenty of occasions to judge for oneself.

  It was the first day after the summer holidays, the first day at the school for the new students. The first graders walked together to the assembly halls. As most of them just had finished their general school education, none of them were too nervous about the new environment. Especially since those who had been accepted, weren’t likely to get worked up about such a trivial matter.

  Their futures would hold plenty of far more nerve wrecking situations and they all knew that.

Silence fell onto the assembly hall as they all had sat down and waited for the head mistress to start her speech. Latter was already looking at her papers one last time and adjusting the microphone in front of her.

  Still, barely anyone paid attention to her. How could they, if Jeanne Everley was sitting right there in the third row. The silence didn’t matter at all.

Trying the best to ignore the more than obvious tension in the hall, the head mistress coughed lightly and put on a professional smile.

  “Good morning everyone, and welcome. For those who might not know; my name is Ms Amber Williams and I am the headmistress of this very School of Guhlsdorf. We have the great honour to educate young students from all over the country into becoming well respected Searchers. If you are sitting here, it means that you went through the application process that counts as one of the hardest among all professions. Short: it means you are one of the best.” She delivered that line with a friendly tone and winked at the audience, as if she wanted to weaken her point. But that would have been a lie. The audience responded with polite laughter. “This high standard we are seeking is not without purpose. As future Searchers you will have to carry a heavy responsibility to serve our country and help the nation both in the fight against the creatures, and to follow our tradition of science. As the great Searcher James Duncan, who graduated from this very school in 1756, once said: The becoming of the golden glass is what secures the order, and the becoming of the order is what makes the golden glass possible. This is the origin of our school’s motto Illi ordinationem, qui aurum creant. Those who create order, create gold -”

  Suddenly a scoff interrupted her, prompting the rest of the audience to freeze. The dark brown eyes of the headmistress fell onto the person who had laughed, be it only so quietly. It had been no one else than Jeanne Everley. The head mistress had stopped only for a second. It was far more than enough to expose both herself and Jeanne, in a way it was the first time she acknowledged the alien element within their walls. But Ms Williams was not that easily angered. Like a professional that she was, she continued her speech. “And I want to remind you and urge you to act up to that motto every day.” Without doubt she kept to her script and finished her speech a few minutes after with useless effort.

 Not a single person except for Jeanne had continued to listen to her. Had they tried to ignore the scandal before her in the beginning, those attempts were forgotten as Jeanne had openly laughed at the head mistress’ welcome speech. Angry looks from the staff and other teachers pierced the crowd, but those quiet murmurs were decent enough and could not be called out without addressing the elephant in the room.

  The head mistress left the stage and a man in his fifties entered. The mayor of Guhlsdorf couldn’t miss an important event like that. It was the Society’s School after all that made his town so wealthy, its students that kept it safe, and their parents who paid the handsome taxes. He pointed out his gratitude, talked about Guhlsdorf’s famous background and popular attractions – in vain.

  After a full hour, all speeches and instructions had been given. The audience’s attention had been barely enough for them to catch the important information on what to do next, but they finally managed to follow the instructions and sign their names into the house lists. There were five dormitories and before attending their first day, the students had been assigned theirs. Now they only had to sign behind their name to check that everything was without mistake.

  Needless to say, there was one list where the students waited sparsely. Jeanne had walked up to her list and signed quickly, yet the others’ hesitation was severe. After all they would share a dormitory with her.

  A girl with long dark brown hair and rich tawny brown skin finally stepped out of the crowd, shrugged and grinned broadly. After she signed she walked over to Jeanne.

  “So, they actually let you come”, she said and suddenly Jeanne burst out in laughter.

  “Yeah! Yeah they did, but I guess I am still on probation”, she replied and just with that, the ice was broken. The girls laughed at each other and that had been all it took for the whole hall to finally relax. In a matter of minutes all students had signed their places and collected the orientation booklets before they left the assembly hall again.

 “My name is Ahn, by the way. Le Trang Ahn.”

 “Well, I’m...”

 “Yes, yes, yes. No need to introduce yourself. If there was an outsider here who didn’t know about your family before, they sure do now.”

 “Has your family been in the business?”

 “They have been for six generations now.”

 “Wow, that is very impressive!”, Jeanne gasped sincerely.

Even if it was quite common for the Searchers to keep the profession in their families, there were only a handful of families that could reach back further than ten generations.

  “So, I am being blunt here, but why did they actually accept you?”, Ahn asked.

  “I think it was the interview. All my siblings did excellent on the tests, but failed the interviews. I just talked my way through them and even if it was a pain, they probably just couldn’t find anything against me. Also, I heard that they need some extra money to build a new dormitory, so since my family is pretty rich and likes to donate… “ She left the sentence open, obvious what she was aiming at. Ahn just answered with a broad smile. With a sudden sigh, she pulled out her phone from her jeans pocket.

 “I’m sorry. It’s just my mum asking how I am doing and if I have made friends yet. Oh! Should I answer that I made friends with Jeanne Everley? Haha! That would really turn the tables!”

She typed down a message and kept giggling. Jeanne just kept her smile, either indifferent to that statement or polite enough to not make a fuss out of it.

  As they left the central building, the cold autumn wind blew into their faces. Single leaves danced in front of them, the first ones that had fallen from the great oaks that grew on the small park in front of the school. Both the school and the dormitories were well hidden behind a big wall, not because it would be a secret place. Back when it had been built, Guhlsdorf had been one of the most dangerous towns in their area, so the wall had actually been a protective measure to keep the inexperienced students safe.

  A distant church bell rang ten times in the distance, a little proof of the outside world. Somethign that didn’t go unnoticed.

  Ahn pulled her scarf tighter, her phone clenched tightly in her hand. “It’ll be pretty lonely here, won’t it?”, she wondered and for a moment, Jeanne just looked back at her until she shruged her shoulders.

  “Do you have a big family?”

  “Oh yes. All my grandparents live at our place. And the great grandparents of my mother’s side. And I have two siblings. So. It’s not exactly quiet at home. This school feels so sterile and strict. Have you read the house rules? You’re not even allowed to run or sing on the floors. What if I am late for class?”

  “I doubt you’d be punctual if you sang on your way getting there.”

Ahn laughed and nodded. “You’ve got a good humour, Jeanne.”

They were just about to enter their dormitory, as they were stopped by two boys. One of them looked rather shy and a little as if he didn’t want to be there at all, whereas the other had a mean look on his face. As Ahn and Jeanne had fallen back from their group, they were the last ones to enter, but those kids blocked the way quite obviously just for them.

  “Jeanne Everley, what let you think you’d be allowed to be here?”, he asked with a thin voice.

But Jeanne didn’t even spare him a look. She rolled her eyes and set out to walk farther. A hand landed on her shoulder to hold her back.

  “I asked you a question”, the boy said.

  “I decided to ignore it”, she replied. It wasn’t some weak come-back. It was not an answer that left room to discussion. She just decided that he was at least worth to be informed of the matter, and then walked straight pass him.

  And consequently, it was the first time that Ahn frowned at the girl before her, and the power that she seemed to hide underneath her surface.

~ masterlist ~

[spacebrick3]

WHG Day 1: Snow

Welcome to the first day of the Hunger Games, featuring a doctor who’s starting to doubt her life choices...

Featuring Radan from @rhikasa​ and Begonia Rex from @ratracechronicler​, who I hope I’ve done justice!

The podium rises from the ground, carrying Snow to the grounds of the Arena. A bleak place, both in terms of environment and hope. She shivers in the damp fog, an icy name doing little to protect her against the cold, surveying the thirty-five other tributes thrown into the same precarious situation.

Some look uncertain, others outright fearful; determination and anxiety mix in equal measures in the eyes of many. As the timer ticks away the last certain seconds of her life (for in the Games, every moment is laced with a possible finality), she presses a hand to her chest, feeling for the small shape of her oath. Such a fragile thing. One twist of her fingers and the thin glass walls would shatter, tearing the paper apart. No, she tells herself with a shake of her head. Not yet.

The Cornucopia is tantalizingly close, and she resolves to run for it. All her certainty of the past few days, concocting a strategy and trying to play psychologist, now seems as nebulous as the fog. The tributes with whom she worked and watched will try to kill her, and she is expected to do the same of them-

The bell tolls.

Snow runs. Her shoes slide on the damp grass, muffled shouts and screams filling the air above her. Too many others seem to have had the same idea, blurred shapes all racing for the Cornucopia—she passes scattered backpacks and supplies lying on the ground, tempted to grab one and run, but the fighting has moved to that same outside ring. She leaves them behind, internally wincing, racing for the golden walls in front of her because they at least promise shelter.

Behind her, an explosion rocks the earth, silencing the Arena for a split second. The shockwave pushes her those final few feet into the Cornucopia, tripping over her own legs and nearly slamming headfirst into the arches of the horn—its supplies and resources strewn across the ground she just left. She presses herself against the wall, trying to appear as small as possible and hoping they notice, quicker than her, that the Cornucopia is empty and avoid it.

Her breath comes heavy and fast, echoing in the small space. Should have grabbed supplies. Should have picked up a weapon, for what if another tribute finds her—what if, what if, what if-

She peeks around the corner, cursing silently, the mist outside now mixed with bloody, ashy smoke. It’s been minutes. Goddamn minutes since they were sharing their last goodbyes—only hours since they were working and training with one another. All that crushed underfoot by the Games in just a few seconds.

How long will it take? she wonders, before the same happens to me? Before I’m killing with the rest of them?

Perhaps the most frightening thing is that she can’t answer.

***

When she does leave the Cornucopia, it’s in the steps of one of the District 6 tributes—Radan, she remembers his name being, who seems to know what he’s doing. She makes sure to keep a safe distance behind him, as well, placing her feet carefully as to not step on anything that will give away her presence.

It would be easier to announce her presence, to propose an alliance for the duration of the day. But that means trusting him, trusting that he would buck the expectations of the Games and decide not to kill her. And from what she saw at the Reaping, she can’t wholly think that of anybody, no matter what she might have seen of them during the training or the interviews. 

As it turns out, that choice is made for her. Radan turns around, obviously spotting her even through the trees. “Hey!” he calls. “I know you’re following me! Show yourself!”

She freezes, raising her hands to show she carries no weapons. “I don’t…want to hurt you,” she says quickly. “Don’t think I could if I tried.”

“Why are you following me, then?” he asks, backtracking so that the two of them stand nearly face-to-face. He’s significantly taller than her, carrying himself with the appearance of royalty and regarding her with deep suspicion. “This is the Hunger Games. No one just follows one another.”

“I understand that,” she says with a sigh. “I wanted to get away from the Cornucopia, and I didn’t know where to go. You seemed as though you did.” Five dead there, she’d confirmed. Five who she hadn’t been able to help—one another tribute from her own district, Aurum, with a knife in her chest, the others thrown about by the explosion. “This is the Games, but we can still help each other-“

“Prove it,” he says.

She blinks. “What?”

“Only one person is left standing at the end. Prove that I can trust you, that you won’t backstab me as soon as you have the chance.” He crosses his arms with a sigh. 

If this were university, there would have been a lecture—with numerous citations to Karl Popper—about the difficulty of proving anything, much less means and intentions, probably set up in the form of a Socratic debate for half the class to ignore. But it’s not, and she has little to give him besides an oath even she doesn’t know if she can keep. “I—I can’t.”

“Then I don’t think an alliance is on the table,” he says. “I’m sorry.” A brief, awkward pause, the kind that tends to fall across conversations where both parties have admitted to not fully trusting the other. “You’re Snow, right?”

“Yes. And you’re Radan.”

He nods, glancing away to the direction he was originally taking. “Well. I do wish we were meeting under different circumstances, Snow, but as it stands I hope we don’t run into each other again. Can’t end well.” He shakes his head. “Good luck with the Games. May the best of us win.”

“May the best win,” she echoes, though with much less conviction.

***

Somewhere around midnight, her makeshift camp is rudely invaded by a familiar face, identifiable even in the shadowy moonlight by the streak of red in his hair and the simple fact that he’s nearly hopping up and down with excitement. “Snow!” he whispers with all the subtlety of a stage actor. “Is that you?”

After briefly entertaining the possibility that this is a fever dream of some sort, she pushes herself up to one elbow and regards the quasi-botanist with a flat look. “Begonia. What the hell. Are you doing here.”

His smile doesn’t falter for a second. “Back on the train, you were talking about an alliance! So I’ve been looking around—and I may have gotten just a little bit distracted here and there,” he admits, “especially in the fog and the rain—but I did find you in the end! Just that way, actually, there are some impressive rain lilies that seem to be particularly happy in the fog and the rain, and—oh! I found a little bit of Piscidia piscipula by a stream…”

She lets him talk for a couple minutes, amazed that he can find any wonder in the Arena, of all places. “I’m glad you’re still alive, Begonia,” she says, voice cracking unexpectedly at the word ‘alive’. “I—I mean, I don’t…” 

“I’m glad I’m still alive, too!” he says, clearing a small space to sit on the ground beside her. “Are you quite sure you’re all right, though? I know most people don’t like being woken up so late—or is it early now? I just thought it might be a bit surprising if you woke up in the morning and I was right here, so I decided to let you know now.”

“No, no,” she says, burying her face in her hands. “It’s—look, I don’t know the right way to say this.”

His smile fades to a look of concern, though with the same cheerful energy beneath it. “Oh, of course! I never know the right way to say anything, so I just say it! It’s worked out so far.”

Snow laughs quietly. “It’s been a day. A day, Begonia. Look what the Games have done to us already. We were all working together, training together, listening to the others talk about their families and their homes and their dreams. And now seven of thirty-six are dead, and five times that will be by the end. I’m scared that the Games will do that to us all. That everyone I thought I knew in the center will become a killer because they don’t have a choice otherwise—hell, I can’t be certain that I wouldn’t do the same, that I could stick to my morals and my oath if my life was on the line. And I’ve no fucking clue what to do about it.”

A midnight confession, made to the one person she unconsciously exempted from that fear. “Well. I’m not entirely-“

“I shouldn’t be—you shouldn’t have to worry about this,” she says quickly. “These are my fears, not yours. Who knows whether they’ll even come true or not. Plenty of time in the Games.”

He shrugs. “I mean…people are difficult. Even plants don’t do what I want them to all the time, and they have to make far fewer decisions than people do, so there’s really no point in worrying what they’re going to do or not…and if you think about it like plants, then the only thing you can really control is what you’re doing. So as long as you’re sure you won’t….uh, start killing people, then you should be fine!”

Only he could say that she’ll be fine in the Hunger Games of all places. In some sense, there’s no point in worrying about whether the Games will turn them all into killers, because chances are high she’ll die long before then. But if that’s true, then what’s the point in keeping the oath that hangs heavy around her neck—what’s stopping her from fighting tooth and nail to hang onto life if probability says she’ll be dead anyway?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And that’s what terrifies her.

But it’s hard to stay anxious around Begonia, with his seeming insistence that so long as he believes the best of the world then it will surely come to pass. After a few empty words about the tributes and the Games, the conversation turns inevitably back to plants, where he shows her some of the carefully-cut flowers he’d found in the Arena and their bright colors visible even in the night. Tiny pieces of beauty he’d managed to scrounge up somewhere, half of which he gives to her before falling asleep.

She tucks the flowers into her own pocket, feeling slightly more hopeful about the days to come.

[unpack-my-heart]

IT Fandom Prompt Week - Day 4 - Medieval AU

This is the first chapter of my alchemy AU that i’ve written for IT Fandom Prompt week day 4 - Medieval AU.

Read it under the cut or on AO3 HERE

@constantreaderfool @tinyarmedtrex @xandertheundead @violetreddie

IGNIS AURUM PROBAT

The earth yawned open, and out lurched Chaos.

Chaos looked around, flexed its muscles, before immediately giving birth.

Out of the womb of darkness came Gaia, Tartatus, Eros, Erebus and Nyx. Five wriggling, squishy things. The five wriggling, squishy things collectively blinked, and Chaos retreated.

From Gaia came the Titans, and from Cronus and his sister-wife Rhea came Zeus. Zeus, King of Gods, who reigned with an iron fist and wandering eyes, relished the power he held over humanity. Enraged with Prometheus for giving them the gift of fire, Zeus’ fondness for humanity waxed and waned, before ultimately decreasing to such a pitiful degree that the God’s who sat on Mount Olympus looked upon Earth with kindness in their eyes no more.

When Christianity swept over Greece in the fourth-century, and the God who were sat upon Mount Olympus were eschewed by humanity for good, Zeus’ temper grew foul. Sparks of lightning scarred the Earth in the tenth-century, Atlas adjusted his grip on the Earth, and profane things rose from the wounds.

The God’s who sat on Mount Olympus, bored and ignored, were resigned to myth and legend.

But they remained, and they watched.

Edward Kaspbrak had been plucked from the bosom of his mother at the age of two, and whisked away to the dingy alchemical workshop of one Philippus Aureolus Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim (or, to Edward and his closest friends, Paracelsus) to serve as his ward and apprentice. Edward quickly forgot about his mother, who presumably also forgot about him.

The reliable constants in Edward’s early life were glass bottles, bitter smelling herbs and the lingering metallic scent in the air. His childhood was fundamentally unlike other children his age, who worked on their parents farms by day and slept, exhausted and filthy, at night. Instead, Edward practiced the transmutatory art by day, and meticulously copied out complicated spagyric formulas by candle light at night. Paracelsus’ workshop was somewhat small, and it was endlessly untidy with stacks of leather-bound books balanced precariously upon every surface. There was one small window that provided daylight and helped the poisonous vapours emitted by the various burning metals to escape the room. Other than this, however, the workshop was claustrophobic. Russet coloured clay vases littered the floor, and more than once Edward found himself tripping over them, sending the herbs he’d spent all morning carefully collecting up into the air, only to rain down like green snowflakes.

First and foremost, Paracelsus’ workshop served as the first port of call for those infected with various diseases. Whether they believed they were being punished by a vengeful God, or had a constitution that made them prone to ill-health, they would come, pay whatever Paracelsus deemed appropriate, and then spend between four and eight hours screaming in agony whilst the alchemist rubbed a slightly silvery ointment into the infected flesh, followed by a hot press of guaiacum over the infected area. Edward had grown accustomed to the howls of the infected, as they lay on the straw mattress in the corner of the workshop. Sometimes they pleaded with him to rub the ointment off with a wet cloth, or to put them out of their misery in increasingly creative, but gruesome ways. Edward never said anything to them, ignoring them in favour of mixing a new batch of quicksilver to be spread onto the skin of the next unfortunate who stumbled through the door.

The first time Edward watched Paracelsus cure the pox with the ointment made from liquid mercury he’d been amazed – half convinced his eyes had deceived him, and half convinced Paracelsus was, in fact, some sort of demonic druid belched from the underbelly of Hell.

“Edward, the body works not according to the four humours, but according to the tria prima. The three principles of life. The spagyric art should not just be applied to the transmutation of metals, but also to the great microcosm – the human body, made in His image. We can use the same principles we use to purify metals to purify the human body – to separate the pure from the impure,” is what Paracelsus had told Edward one night, whilst they were both elbow deep in a watery stew that tasted more like turnip than it did beef. Edward was not a fan of turnip.

Paracelsus must have sensed Edward’s confusion wafting over the table, because he continued.

“See, you saw how the quicksilver burnt the pox straight off Mary Croft’s arms?”

“Is that why she screamed loud enough to startle the chickens in the croft?” Edward asked.

“Yes, child,” Paracelsus laughed, “It is a rather… painful … procedure. Disease is the infection of the body by bad seeds, and we use the spagyric art to refine the spiritual essence of these seeds, so that we might expel the poison from the body and from the soul. Of course, it is all the more painful when drank as an elixir but the risk of death is too great. An ointment, though painful, is a much safer way of administering the cure”

“Does it cure them?” Edward queried, a little too quickly.

Paracelsus visibly bristled.

“Did Mary Croft walk out of here alive?”

“Yes”

“Were her blisters gone?”

“I suppose so, Sir”

“Then, as far as I’m concerned, she’s cured. Not another word”

– X –

As time passed, and he became older, one thing became startlingly clear.

Edward Kaspbrak was, by all accounts, a terrible alchemist.

On his eighth birthday – a day that did not mark the day he actually turned eight years of age, but rather, a date that marked six years since Edward had become Paracelsus’ ward – Paracelsus decided that it was time to begin teaching Edward the most basic alchemical concepts. Fortunately, his decision coincided with catching  Edward with his nose in a copy of Galen’s De Facultatibus Naturalibus.

“There is more learning in my shoe buckles than in all Galen!” Paracelsus roared, smacking the book from Edward’s hand. The book fell to the floor, spine cracked down the centre.

“What have I told you about the humours, child! They are the misguided theories of irreligious heathens ignorant of true knowledge. Today we will begin your education in the spagyric art, and I will chase the Aristotelian knowledge from your head with a spear”

True to his word, Paracelsus began teaching Edward the art of alchemy.

– X –

“Try again, child. You must learn by doing, experience by the fire is the only way that you may become a true healer”

“The fire bites me, Sir” Edward lamented, rubbing the small red welt that was rapidly appearing on the webbing between his thumb and forefinger.

“That is because you don’t treat it with respect, Edward. The fire is the master of all things, and you must treat it as such. Now, try again,” Paracelsus instructed, wiping muddy brown sediment from the bottom of a swan-necked glass bottle.

The guaiacum in the metal pan simmered, and when Edward added the liquid quicksilver after bringing the pan off the heat, it spat at Edward’s hand, before solidifying into an unusable mass.

Paracelsus sighed.

“I have never seen somebody coagulate mercury before. Either you are a genius, or a fool. Again!”

Several days later, Edward found himself with nothing to do. Paracelsus was consumed by a large leather-bound book, not paying any attention to what Edward was doing, who took it upon himself to undertake some independent study.

Earnest as ever, Edward stood over the burning fire, wincing slightly from the heat, trying to turn a block of wood he had found in the workshop into … something. He was trying to simultaneously anoint the wood with the right amount of solution and heat it to the right temperature when, slowly but surely, the wood began to blacken, and pieces started to fall away in large flakes.

“Sir! Sir! I think, I think I may have done it!” Edward cried out, hopping from foot to foot in excitement, trying desperately not to let the rapidly blackening wood fall into the flames.

“Done what?” Paracelsus called out from his place at the table.

“Done… something! I have made coal!”

“From what?!” Paracelsus called out again, sounding vaguely more interested. Edward heard the scrape of the chair, and the characteristic thump of his mentors feet.

“Look!”

Paracelsus was silent.

“Sir?”

“Edward, what you have done is burnt some wood. That is not transmutation, that is not any form of alchemy, you have turned yourself into a conduit for the stove.”

“…Oh” Edward faltered, dropping the wood and watching the fire consume it hungrily.

Paracelsus must immediately sense his student’s disappointment, because he immediately steps forward to console him.

“The spagyric art is a fickle one. She will not be mastered by anyone who, on a whim, decides to try and tame her. You must practice. You must feel the force of all the great men who have stood before you, and channel that energy into your studies. I have faith in you, Eddie.”

– X –

Ten summers later, and Edward was eighteen years old and no better at the spagyric art than he was when Paracelsus had begun his education. Edward had been resigned to the position of aid, a status normally reserved for women. He prepared the ingredients, scrubbed the vomit and blood from the floors, and mostly, just stayed out of the way. When his education had stagnated, he had expected Paracelsus to turn him out of the workshop, and condemn him to a life of poverty. But that hadn’t happened. Over the past fourteen summers, Paracelsus had grown rather fond of the rather useless, but sincere boy. He’d watched Edward mature into a kind-hearted earnest young man, and despite his failure to turn base metals into gold, his heart appeared to made of the stuff. Besides, turning Edward away would require training up a new aid which was, quite frankly, too taxing. So Edward remained under the tutelage of Paracelsus, despite never actually applying his theoretical knowledge beyond mixing up the ointments.

Until Richard Tozier walked into the workshop.

– X –

Richard Tozier had the pox.

He assumed he’d caught the pox from one of the women he’d met at the tavern. This is what he told his parents. In reality, Richard knew he’d caught it from the young man he’d been secretly lying with for half a year. Announcing to your mother and father that he’d caught the pox from the local sodomite wouldn’t endear him to his parents any more than his alternative story, so he stuck to that. They wailed and lamented about divine retribution and how his mortal sins were manifesting on his skin. They, of course, send him off to the nearest healers as quick as his pock-marked feet would carry him.

That’s how he found himself standing outside the alchemists workshop, hesitating briefly before landing three swift, sharp knocks on the rickety door.

It opened almost instantly.

“Hello? Can I help you?”

The owner of the voice was small, male and inextricably beautiful. Richard knew that he wasn’t supposed to find men beautiful, and that God must have made a catastrophic error when creating him, but he didn’t much care for convention.

“Uh – Yes. Yes, I’m looking for the healer? The – the alchemist? My body is entirely covered with–”

Richard gestured to his skin, the angry red welts on his skin practically pulsing on his otherwise unblemished skin.

The young man’s eyes widened, before he schooled his face into something Richard assumed was supposed to be apathy, but still looked more like panic than anything else.

“The alchemist is not here presently. You will have to come back another day, when he’s here, which he is not right now, I mean – he isn’t here to help you, you will have to come back”

The young man tried to wedge the door shut in Richard’s face, but Richard managed to stick his leather-clad foot out in time, so that the door could not completely shut.

“Excuse me, but I really must insist that you help me. I cannot go home before I am cured, for I fear that my father would beat me with a rather large stick if I did. Can you not help me? Who are you? Are you the apprentice?” Richard practically begged, nudging the door open slightly by wiggling his foot.

“I suppose I am, technically, but I really cannot – I have never – I have never successfully cured anyone, not on my own. I don’t think I can do this on my own, you really must wait for Paracelsus to return”

“I fear that I might drop down dead on your doorstep. Is that what you want? To have to step over my melancholy, rotting corpse to leave your house? To drag it to a shallow grave, to have to cover my body with–“

“Enough!”

Richard smiled wolfishly, watching the young man’s face contort into a picture of disgust.

“So you’ll help me?”

“I suppose I must”

“There really is no risk, I’m practically dead already.”

– X –

The concoction of herbs and water in the small metal pan bubbled furiously, and Edward’s forehead glistened with a panicked sheen of sweat. He had scrabbled around the workshop hunting for the vial of liquid quicksilver, before finding one lodged in the centre of an old book that Edward had watched Paracelsus pour over night by night, etching complicated alchemical symbols that Edward didn’t recognise into it with a quill. Wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, he looked up at the stranger who was currently sat on the straw mattress. The room was full of thick grey smoke, and the bitter-sweet aroma of burning plant matter. Pouring the solution into a glass bottle, Edward closed his eyes prayed that the cure would work. He had seen Paracelsus anoint hundreds of people with the solution, and he was confident that he could brew the solution with his eyes closed. However, his hands still shook as he carefully brought the small glass bottle over to where the stranger sat.

“My name is Edward, what is your name, Sir?” Edward asked, trying to maintain a strong steadiness in his voice, and only just succeeding.

“Richard Tozier, but my friends call me Rich. You can call me that, if you like”

“So, Richard, have you ever had a quicksilver ointment applied to your body before?” Edward pressed, collecting pieces of somewhat dirty rag that he would use to press the ointment into Richard’s bleeding skin.

“I have not. Why? Am I in for a pleasant surprise?” Richard asked, tone too light-hearted to suggest that he knew what he was about to experience. Edward wordlessly tugged at Richard’s tunic, and Richard tugged it over his head, exposing his torso that was also littered with red welts.

“Not entirely” Edward hummed, pouring some of the foul smelling ointment onto the rag, hesitating for a second, before bringing it to Richard’s skin with an audible gulp.

As predicted, Richard howled like a struck cat.

“Keep still! Sorry – You must keep still, the application process is precarious and it’ll hurt even more if I wipe this on your uninfected skin” Edward snapped, but smoothed the hand that wasn’t holding the quicksilver over Richie’s trembling arm.

“Sorry, sorry. This hurts like nothing I have ever experienced before, and my father dropped me on my head when I was a child” Richard replied, wincing, causing Edward to laugh, loud and bright.

“Ah, that explains why you are … the way you are”

Edward continued to dab the quicksilver ointment onto Richie’s welts, concentrating hard enough that he feared his eyes might pop in their sockets. Richard was almost entirely silent, save for the occasional hiss and whimper. At one point, when Eddie rubbed the ointment on a particularly painful looking welt on Richard’s inner thigh, Richard grabbed Edward’s arm.

“Is this … okay?” Richard asked tentatively, flexing his grip on Edward’s bicep. Edward considered removing the man’s hand, wary of the fact that Paracelsus could walk back in and see his apprentice sat on the floor, between the legs of a pock-marked man, and throw him onto the street in a heap.

Edward didn’t move his hand.

Slowly, and with painstaking precision, Edward continued to apply the ointment to every scab on Richard’s body.

“You’re very quiet, little mouse”

“Mouse?! I am no mouse” Edward cried, sitting back on his heels.

“Well, you have tawny hair and a small nose and I’m sure if I poked you here,” Richard reached over to Edward’s side, giving it an almighty poke and causing Edward to shriek, “Ah yes. You squeak, Sir, exactly like a mouse”.

“I am not a mouse” Edward replied indignantly, but try as he might, his lips twitched at the sides, threatening to bloom.

“Well, what are you then?”

“I am,” Edward paused, before replying, “I am a fox”

“A fox?! Are you cunning, then? Wily and tricksy?”

“I suppose so. I have a vicious bite, so you better be careful or I’ll –“ Edward announced, and gnashed his teeth together, simultaneously a threat and something … different. Something entirely more.

“A vicious bite? Is that a promise?” Richie queried, but the wink he tried to aim at Edward mutated into a scowl as the quicksilver was applied to a scab on his shoulder.

A blanket of quiet settled over them. Edward continued to apply the ointment, and Richard watched him work. After a while, Richard grew tense.

“Edward, can I tell you something?”

“Um, I suppose. What is it?”

“It’s something that you might find repulsive”

“By God’s name, if you ask me to apply this ointment to your …,” Edward gestured vaguely at Richard’s crotch, “I shall force it down your throat”

“…Oh”

“So you were going to ask me to do that?”

“No, well, no I wasn’t but it was … somewhat related”

“Somewhat related to your…,” Edward gestured at Richard’s crotch again, feeling his cheek grow hot with embarrassment.

“No it’s related to me asking you to. It’s – oh, to hell with it, I do not only lie with women”

“Pardon?”

Richard sighed, shifting slightly on the mattress.

“I do not only lie with women”

Edward didn’t say anything, just let Richard’s words hang in the air like low flying birds.

“I lie with men. I like lying with men. It’s … different. In some ways, much better, it’s –“

“Why are you telling me this?” Edward interrupted.

“Because I am probably going to die, and this secret has been consuming me for weeks and … if I didn’t share it with someone I fear I might go mad”

“But why me?”

“Let’s just call it intuition, little mouse”

– X –

“How long have you been an alchemist?”  

“I’m not … I’m not technically an alchemist, for I – It’s complicated, Sir”

“Sir?” Richard quoted, eyebrow raised comically high on his forehead.

“Sorry, force of habit. Paracelsus instructs me to call the patients ‘Sir’”

“Hmmm” Richard hummed, his eyes glinting mischievously, looking ever the trickster.

“What now?”

“I rather like it when you call me Sir”

Edward spluttered then, almost dropping the bottle of ointment. Richard reached out to steady his arm, causing Edward to flinch even more.

“Are you feeling okay, Edward?”

“You are a nightmare, Richard” Edward cursed, but the smile that had fully bloomed on his face suggested otherwise.

– X –

The first time Edward had realised he was different he’d been sitting outside the workshop. The summer sun tingled on his skin, when Robert Greatrakes, the mason’s apprentice, had walked past without a shirt on. He was tugging a small wheeled cart loaded with stones, and Edward’s eyes remained glued to the young man’s body the entire length of the street. The way the muscles of his arms were taut under the strain of the cart. The glossy sheen of sweat covering his back. The way his hair, cropped close to his skull, glistened like molasses.

Something bubbled in Edward’s lower stomach.

He knew what this was. What he was.

– X –

With the ointment applied to every inch of Richie’s inflamed, oozing skin, all they could do was wait. Eddie busied himself cleaning the tools he had used to brew the ointment, as well as carefully replacing the vial of quicksilver into the book where he found it. He hoped that Paracelsus would not notice that it was missing several inches of glittering liquid. Richard is snoring loudly in the corner of the room, body entirely covered in a thin white sheet, with the intention of insulating his body to stimulate the ointment. Still staring at the snoring stranger, Edward absently picked up the glass bottle that had previously contained the quicksilver ointment.

He dropped it.

The bottle splintered into hundreds of tiny glass shards, and Edward flinched, expecting the ointment to have oozed all over the wooden floor.

It hadn’t.

What lay on the floor was a smooth, smallish round lump of what appeared to be solid gold.

Breath clogging his throat like wool, Edward bent down and picked up the small round object. It was entirely solid, and when he tried to crush it in his fist, it didn’t change shape.

Gold.

Edward had created gold.

He hadn’t meant to, of course. It had been a fortunate accident, and should Paracelsus, or indeed anyone, have asked him to re-create this feat he’d be unable. Nevertheless, he had done it. Gold from quicksilver. The ultimate aim of the spagyric art. He had done it.

Richard coughed, and Edward dropped the ball of gold. It rolls under the table.

Suddenly remembering how the gold had come into existence, Edward scrabbled over the vases and pots on the floor until he was standing directly over Richard, who, thankfully, looked normal. He was breathing, the steady, rhythmic puffs of air providing the only sound in the room. His face was somewhat dirty, but otherwise exactly the same as it had been when he’d first come into the workshop.

With shaking fingers, and shaking breath, Edward picked up the corner of the white sheet between his thumb and forefinger, and pulled it back gingerly.

The shriek that clawed its way out of Edward’s mouth practically shook the walls of the workshop.

Richard’s body was entirely covered in small crescent shaped gold marks. Where there had been angry red welts, there were now perfectly even, perfectly repeated gold crescents and  Richard’s body was absolutely littered with them. Richard sat up with a start, pressing both hands onto the straw mattress, and suddenly, without warning, Richard was sitting on a solid block of … Gold. It was as if the mattress had always been gold. There was no evidence to suggest that this obscenely large golden cube had ever been made of cloth and straw.

“What – What on Earth … Edward? Edward, what is going on?” Richie demanded, voice quivering as he stood up gingerly.

Edward couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t claw his eyes away from the solid gold mass on the floor and the young man stood in front of it, body shining like an angel.

Richard didn’t appear to notice that he was covered in small golden marks, and Edward couldn’t open his mouth to tell him.

“How … How did you do this? Turn the bed into … gold? The bed is … solid gold? Mercy God, Edward, who are you?”

“Your – your arm, Richard, look at your arm”

“My arm? Never mind my damn arm, look at the – by God’s blood, what has happened to me? What have you done to me?”

Richard was now staring at the gold marks on his arm, face stricken with horror. Edward immediately decided that he’d have to delay Richard, just long enough that so he’d still be here when Paracelsus returned. Paracelsus would know what to do, he’d be able to fix this … whatever this was.

“Richard, you must – you must wait until the alchemist gets back. He will not be long, he is just in the next town. He’ll know what to do, what has happened to – to you. Please sit, please, Richard, I do not want you to panic, I –“

“Hell’s breath! You don’t want me to panic? Pray tell, how am I not to panic when I am covered in these … marks? What have you done? Cursed me? Is this a curse, for – for being a sodomite? You did not have to curse me, vile witch, just refuse to treat me and let me die in a heap like I should have done”

“No!” Edward cried, a hoarse, harsh sound that echoed around the room angrily, “That could not be further from the truth, Richard – Rich, please. Wait, sit. The alchemist will be back soon and he can help you”

Richard grabbed the broom that was lying against the wall of the workshop, and attempted to wield it like a weapon – to protect himself from whatever he assumed Edward was going to do to him. What actually happened, though, was as soon as Richard picked up the broom, it immediately turned to solid gold. Wooden handle, horse hair bristles and all. Completely, and perfectly, rendered in solid gold.

Richard screamed, and dropped the golden broom on the floor, where it landed with a loud clatter.

“By God’s bones, what have you done! You have turned me into some sort of … demon! Stay back, stay back or I’ll send you crawling back to hell, I’ll – I’ll … !”

Before he could finish his sentence, Richard Tozier, cradling his hands against his chest, ran out of the workshop.

– X –

Midas.

The name shot into Eddie’s head like a cannon ball, fast and painful and … Oh.

Midas.

Edward was scrabbling for the copy of pagan mythology on the top shelf of Paracelsus’ bookshelf when he alchemist walked back in.

“Edward? What in God’s name are you doing?”

“HELL!” Edward cried, toppling to the ground from where he was perched on the edge of a bench, the book of pagan mythology clasped tight in his hands.

Paracelsus rolled his eyes fondly, before striding over to where his apprentice was sprawled on the floor. Edward gratefully accepted his extended hand, and Paracelsus hauled him to his feet.

“Care to tell me what required this book so urgently, Eddie?”

Edward had no idea where to start.

Luckily, before he had a chance to speak, Paracelsus noticed the rather inconspicuous golden bed in the corner of the room. The mattress that had once been straw and thread-bear cloth.

“Edward,” Paracelsus said reverently, “Did you … Did you do this?”

“Yes” Edward replied, miserably.

“How?”

“Someone came in while you were out and they – they had the pox and they were so desperate for me to cure them and – and I … I did”

“That doesn’t tell me how the mattress became golden, Edward”

“I couldn’t find any quicksilver at first, but then I remembered the vial you were keeping in the manuscript you’ve been working on, so I … I took that and I … “

“You used … the quicksilver I’ve been keeping in this book?” Paracelsus exclaimed, holding up the leather-bound manuscript. The little vial of quicksilver that Eddie had used rolled out, landing on the table below. It stared up at him.

“Yes”

“Oh, Child… do you know what this is?”

“Quicksilver?”

“This,” Paracelsus held up the vial and shook it slightly in Edward’s face, “This is not just quicksilver. This is the most potent, most volatile form of mercury possible. It will turn almost any base metal to gold. And now, it appears, even materials that are not metal to gold. What happened to the patient, I assume they died? What did you do with the body?”

“Well –”

“And you really must be more careful, Edward. You must have spilt a very large amount of the ointment for the mattress to entirely turn to gold like this”

“Sir!”

“Yes?”

“They didn’t die”

“They didn’t?”

“No and I … I didn’t spill any of the ointment”

“You must have, for how else would …. Oh. Oh, Edward. What have you done?”

Paracelsus ripped the pagan mythology book out of Edward’s trembling hands, and thumped it down on the table. The alchemist flicked to the relevant page, and began scanning the Latin.

Midas, King of Phygia, was unsatisfied. He had riches untold, a great castle, and a beautiful daughter. Despite all this, he still wanted more. More wealth, more gold, more jewels. Midas would spend his days counting his gold, ensuring it was all still there. His greatest love, his greatest passion, his reason for living, all gold.

One day, Dionysus, God of revelry, was travelling through Midas’ kingdom. One of his fellows, Silenus, took a nap in Midas’ rose gardens, unaware that the King took early morning walks in the garden. Sure enough, the King found Silenus, and invited him in to feast at the castle. After the feast, Midas took Silenus back to Dionysus, who was so grateful for the safe return of his friend, he promised to fulfil Midas’ greatest wish. Immediately, Midas decided that he desired everything he touched to become gold. Dionysus pleased with the King to think about the consequences of his wish, but the King demanded that his wish be fulfilled. Dionysus resigned, and promised that from the next day, everything that Midas touched would turn to gold.

“So?” Edward fretted, “What does it say?”

“I think, my dear boy, you gave this patient the Midas touch”

“I swear on my own life that it was an accident”

“I know, I know. Without being needlessly cruel, Edward, you are not skilled enough to have done this on purpose”

“What happened then?”

“I fear that … I fear that someone, or something … intervened”

Edward started to panic.

“What do you mean, something?”

Paracelsus clicked his tongue, a well-practiced indication that Edward was not to push his mentor.

“Do not let that concern you, child. You let that concern me. Now, who was this patient?”

“His name was Richard”

“Richard? It wasn’t the Tozier’s boy, was it?”

“I’m not sure sir. He had wild curly hair and squinted a lot, if that sounds familiar? He also had a rather … peculiar sense of humour”

“Ah. Has to have been the Tozier lad. Now, Edward, what I need you to do is go and pay a visit to the Tozier’s and ask Richard to come back to visit me. I’ll have to – I’ll have to try and cure him, I suppose”

“Only try?”

“Well, as much as I am the greatest alchemist this side of Europe, I cannot perform miracles. Now, go and get the boy and I’ll try and correct your mistake.”

“But –”

“Go! Before I chase you out with –��� Paracelsus reached for the broom that was stood behind the door, “This rather magnificent golden broom. Shoo!”

Edward ran.

[paulinedorchester]

Robinson, John Martin. Requisitioned: The British Country House in the Second World War. London: Aurum Press, 2014.

Between 1939 and 1945, thousands of large houses, and their estates, throughout Great Britain were used for various aspects of the war effort, but “while it makes the the six years between 1939-45 their ‘finest hour’, it also led directly or indirectly to the destruction of a thousand of them,” John Martin Robinson writes in the introduction to this largely somber book.

Houses were left in such poor condition in 1945 that they seemed beyond restoration. Without proper maintenance, pipes burst, ceilings collapsed and dry rot rampaged everywhere. The thousand or so country houses demolished in the decade that followed the war were largely delayed war losses and were a direct result of wartime mistreatment. ...

Many requisitioned houses were never privately lived in again after the war. Some families lost everything, house and estate ... Hundreds of houses were demolished as a direct result of wartime damage. They were abandoned by their owners who could not afford to repair them after the vicissitudes of requisitioning, or were too discouraged to contemplate the task.

If you regard any of the foregoing as a sign of progress or cause for cheer, then I should tell you right up front that Requisitioned isn’t for you. Here’s Robinson on the phenomenon of such houses being volunteered for wartime use, making actual requisitioning unnecessary, a phenomenon that he maintains was fairly common:

Such gestures were a continuation of the Victorian aristocratic public spiritedness which played such a strong role in the war. It could be argued that leadership during the Second World War in Britain was more strongly upper class than during the First. This did not just include the contribution of the country house, but the fact that the government was full of peers, more of the generals were upper class and the prime minister himself was the grandson of a duke.

You get the picture, I’m sure. Robinson (more about him here) is so thoroughly on the side of the estate owners that he completely ignores the well-documented Nazi sympathies of the wartime Duke of Westminister (see here, for example), whose seat, Eaton Hall in Cheshire, was among the houses razed after wartime use. (He does, however, mention in passing the similar views of the 12th Duke of Hastings, who inherited Woburn Abbey in 1940, but “was considered a security risk and not allowed anywhere near Woburn by the authorities.” The house was used by the Foreign Office’s political intelligence division and survives today in much reduced form.)

Having said all of that, Requisitioned does offer good brief pre-war histories of each of the 20 houses it covers, as well as fairly detailed descriptions of each house’s post-war trajectory. It also contains some terrific photographs of the houses and their interiors, taken throughout the period covered. What we don’t get, or at least not consistently, is a sense of the significance of the houses’ contribution to the war effort. This book is worth looking at if its subject is of interest. But proceed with caution - and, perhaps, a willingness to giggle a bit.  

[fearofaherobrine]

Roleplay Server Log #301

“Cat Armor, Fake Eyes, All That Remains, NOTCH the Monster”

[Lie] Urges her offensive pod to retreat back up towards the ceiling before heading out of the cage-

-As the group is walking up they see Buff jogging quickly towards Notch's house, and there's a pronounced thumping as he knocks on Markus's door-

[Notch] Opens it - Buff?

[Buff] Need- To - Talk- To Dofta!

[Notch] Okay? - he pulls out his phone and calls her-

[CP] Tries to fireball Buff from where they are-

[Buff] Gets hit and looks around in confusion- Cp?

[TLOT] Ignore him, he's being a dick.

[Lie] - Sorry Buff!  He's in a really bad mood!

[Buff] I can see that! - He's dancing around a bit like he needs to pee.

[Dofta] Hello?

[Buff] Snatches the phone and runs into Lie's house for some privacy.

[Lie] - Er...

[Traveler] Two more NOTCHES?

[Notch] Ummm.

[TLOT] I found my NOTCH Markus. - indicates her- This is Traveler. Traveler, this is Markus. The original Notch.

[Traveler] Inward hiss- The supreme NOTCH... Sir...

[Notch] That's not nessesary....

[Lie] - There are three other NOTCH ai's here Traveler...  Including mine

[Traveler] Why so many?

[Notch] These guys collect Herobrines, they tend to each come with at least a Steve, and Alex or a NOTCH.

[Traveler] Uh... okay?

[Lie] - Luckily not all the NOTCH's follow...- She rubs CP's ear a little

[TLOT] How much do you know about my previous NOTCH?

[Traveler] Scowls- Enough to realize he was unbalanced.

[CP] Considers fire balling Notch-

[Notch] Can I have Cp Lie?

[Lie] - He may bite...

[Notch] I'm used to it.

[Traveler] Who is this cat-brine to you Supreme NOTCH?

[Notch] My son.

[Lie] Hesitantly hands CP over-

[Notch] Gives him a hug- I know you're upset. Lie told me why. But I'm here for you when you go to fight, you'll have my enhancements on your power and my shield if you need it.

[Traveler] Who are you intending to fight?

[Lie] - The one who destroyed his original NOTCH and turned him into what he is

[Traveler] Are the odds against him great?

[CP] Is trying to bite Notch's face-

[TLOT] Yes.

[Notch] Ow. - He tries rubbing Cp's ears-

[Lie] - Harvestman has a sword that with a single small scratch can completely delete you

[CP] Yowls angrily-

[Traveler] Has a rather thoughtful and far away look-

[TLOT] So what kind of powers do you have anyway?

[Traveler] I know I'm your opposite in many ways, that's all I'm divulging for now.

[Lie] - So why did Buff need your phone?

[Notch] He wanted to talk to Dofta-

[Lie] - I wonder why...

[Buff] Comes back out looking more relaxed, and gives Markus his phone- Thank you.

[Lie] - So what did you need to talk to Dofta about Buff?

[CP] Very angry tail flicking-

[Buff] Oh.. just NOTCH stuff...

[Traveler] What kind of NOTCH stuff?

[Buff] Erm... OH! I don't think we've met! I'm Buff!

[Traveler] I can see that....

[Lie] Groans a little-

[Lie] Spawns a bit of catnip and slips it into CP's collar-

[CP] Hisses-

[Doc] Over chat - DID SOMEONE JUST LET ANOTHER NOTCH ON THE SERVER?!

[TLOT] Winces-

[Lie] Glances at TLOT- Errrr...  You should probably tell them...

[TLOT] Mentally- I found my new NOTCH and they kinda followed me in.

[Traveler] You're doing it again...

[Doc] Are you in danger?!

[TLOT] I'm going to say no for the moment

[Lie] - He's doing what?

[Traveler] He's talking to someone else, I can tell by his face.

[Buff] He's psychic! He does that a lot.

[Lie] - Yeah, several of us are psychic...  The rest have pretty much learned to just think really loudly if they want us to hear them

[Traveler] Is my being here that much of a problem that everyone needs to whisper?

[Steve] You are a NOTCH...

[Buff] Slightly hurt look-

[Steve] That we don't know!

[Lie] - Part of it is just explaining to the other native brine what's going on, since last I saw they were still at the bar.  It's really useful for long distance communication

[Traveler] Again, am I causing a problem?

[Lie] - Uh...  Well, technically this place is supposed to be for brines, so any NOTCH that does end up here does cause some tension at first, mostly due th=o the fact that many of the brines here have been traumatized by their NOTCH's

[Traveler] Gives TLOT a calculating look- including him.

[Lie] - Yeah, he and CP may have had it the worst

[TLOT] I still have nightmares if I sleep alone...

[Lie] Looks at CP, knowing the same holds true for him-

[CP] The catnip is finally starting to take effect-

[Steve] Stays near his mate protectively- we've destroyed NOTCHs before! You better not cause any trouble.

[Traveler] And the priest is just as brave as his reputation suggested.

[Buff] They're good people, just trying to get by...

[Lie] - And this place is a rare place where we are welcome

[Notch] I presume you respect my opinion?

[Traveler] Oh, yes sir.

[Notch] this is a sanctuary for the hurt and lost, be at peace and you'll be accepted.

[TLOT] Also it's generally accepted that the brines are semi- responsible for any AIs from their home seeds...

[CP] Just flops in Notch's arms, a bit overwhelmed by the catnip-

[Notch] Strokes Cp a little bit- That's better.

[CP] Small grumble-

[TLOT] Puts his hand on his chest and starts, forgetting he took off his chestplate. - I need to go into town...

[Traveler] Steps up like she's going with him.

[TLOT] Um....

[Steve] Just so you know, this village of Testificates worships him, he's their king. Don't embarass us.

[TLOT] Blushes a little - They needed a protector.

[Traveler] What exactly are you afraid I'll do?

[Steve] a bit exasperated-  We don't know! That's the point!

[Lie] - Would you like me to come along?

[TLOT] Is trying to say please without cluing the NOTCH in.

[Lie] Looks at Notch- Here, I won't impose you with my husband

[Notch] Gives Cp a hug, - it's okay either way. - He's holding Cp in a way she can either take him or pass easily

[Lie] Takes her husband and cradles him-

[TLOT] Takes a deep breath, eyeballing Traveler nervously-

[Traveler] Puts up what's left of her hood, her poncho is shredded.

[CP] Little yowl-

[TLOT] Heads off and they're soon at the gates.

[Lie] Waves at some of the villagers as they walk by, exchanging some greetings-

[Traveler] Shadows TLOT, keeping her head down a little.

[Steve] Runs a bit ahead and knocks on the door

[Drilby] Father Steve? To what do we owe the honor this time?

[TLOT] Comes up as well- The usual... sadly

[Drilby] Oh dear, I'll get him.

[Aurum] - Oh dear, usual's are lucrative, but tiresome at times

[Tungsten] cheerfully- Our king has a bad habit of shapeshifting in a way that balloons out his chestplate.

[Arurm] - Hmmm, If the chest plate were made of smaller pieces you could use the stretchy string I should you how to make and use it to hold the armor together.  It would then expand when he does

[Tungsten] Perhaps, but then he wouldn't have an excuse to visit us.

[TLOT] Huffs-

[Firebird] - meandering castle, a bit  near the lab-

[Doc] Is pacing around a bit, annoyed with TLOT

[CN] Following, just looking at everything-

[Aurum] - It's just a suggestion

[Lie] - I'm sorry...  Who is this?

[TLOT] Takes out the enlarged plate and sets it down. It's big enough for him and Steve to wear it together right now.

[Tungsten] Whistles-

[Steve] Oh, Lie, This is Aurum. He's the genius that made Cp's obsidian stuff.

This message has been removed.

[Lie] - Oh!  Well thank you for that, his armor has helped me a few times

[Aurum] - And you are?

[Lie] - His wife

[Firebird] - spots Doc a pacing away - Doctor?

[Doc] Notices Firebird and Cn, - Oh good, I was hoping you had Cn.

[Steve] Aurum, This is Lie.

[Firebird] Yeah, held him hostage til he finished molting. I uh... Heard you make fake eyes?

[Doc] Perks up a bit- Oh yes! Haven't had any use for them in forever, but they're fun to make.

[Aurum] Looks her up and down- Hmmm, a few minor adjustments would have to be made to the original plan, but I could finish it now...  Or rather Tungsten could

[Tungsten] Adjustments?

[Drilby] Who's this?

[Firebird] Could i.. Have one?

[Aurum] - To her armor

[Lie] - My armor?

[Aurum] - Well yes, I had started a set of obsidian armor for whoever his mate would end up being

[Traveler] Looks up just a little and Drilby hisses in fear-

[Drilby] A NOTCH!

[Doc] Absolutely! What colors? - Xe reaches up on a shelf with a lot of organs and various unidentifibles and takes down a large jar of eyes - Just take some, I can make more.

[TLOT] She's my new NOTCH Drilby. Don't yell.

[Aurum] - New NOTCH?

[TLOT] The new parameters generate one when one is killled. That's how Doc got Buff after Dn was slain.

[Firebird] That's a lot to choose from... How do I put it in? - picking put a few-

[Doc] I'm just glad to have them appreciated by someone.

[Aurum] - Interesting.  So where's old sourpuss?  I'm surprised he's not with his lovely wife

[CN] Comes over to look- Ewwwww....

[Doc] They're just glass Cn.

[TLOT] Thumbs at the cat- He's had a bad day

[Aurum] - Oh dear...  Do I need to make cat armor?

[Steve] That would be awesome!!!!

[Aurum] - Tungsten we need obsidian!

[Firebird] -has settled on a purple one for now - How do i put it in? Just.. Push it?

[Drilby] It needs little spikes!

[Aurum] - But of course!  And we'll need measurments!

[Doc] You just have a hole where the other one is missing right? Move your hair a bit so I can see.

[Drilby] Scampers off to get some string to measure with.

[Firebird] - great hesitance-....

[CP] Annoyed noise but with the cat nip still in his collar he can't really focus-

[Doc] I could just fix your eye if you want. I know how to do it. Otherwise I'd be blind on one side too- Indicates hir own eye scar.

[Traveler] Is it always like this here?

[TLOT] Let them have their fun.

[Aurum] - Don't forget a quill and paper too Drillby!

[Tungsten] Is arranging chunks of stone and putting on the gauntlets-

[Firebird] -pushes hair aside and shows the heavily scarred empty hole- I don't want it repaired, that way I don't forget what got me into my mess to begin with.

[Doc] Suit yourself, but I'll need to shrink or swell the eye a little so it doesn't fall out. - Xe measures the hole with hir fingers and squishes the eyeball a little. Xe looks down- Um.. Cn? Are you glitching? You have a tail.

[CN] Turns red and talks quietly- Can't get rid of it

[Doc] Well you can always ask TLOT. If I remove it it may be missing if you shapeshift again.

[Firebird] Alright. And I still think it looks nice CN.

[CN] - Just no more seeds

[Doc] Gets the eyeball the right size and cleans it throughly in some hot water. - Just tip your head back and put it in. Just remember to blink if you lean over.

[Firebird] Alright. - does so, pausing at last moment - will this shift with me? Or should I take it out when I want to go bird?

[Doc] Is your eyesocket about the same size as a bird?

[Firebird] A bit smaller.

[CN] - I wanna poke it

[Doc] Then just just take two. I'll make the other one smaller and you can switch them as needed.

[Firebird] Alright - pops it in and blinks a bit, surprised at the feeling of his eye socket not being empty anymore - Thats gonna take some getting used to.

[CN] - Firebird!  Let me poke it!

[Firebird] - exasperated noise-

[Doc] It makes you unique Cn. NOTCHs don't have to all be the same. And if you ever want some hair, you only have to ask.

[CN] - Why would I want hair?

[Doc] Doesn't your head get cold? And Firebird, if you decide it's not comfortable I can always make it into a pendant for you or something. It's yours.

[CN] - Well yeah, but I'm a NOTCH, we're supposed to be bald

[Doc] Silently points at Firebird, who has a copious head of hair-

[CN] - Yeah but he's a bird

-Some og it is also definitely feathers-

[Firebird] And so are you now, bud

[Doc] No pressure though.

[Firebird] Thank you Doctor.

[Doc] Thank you for putting me in a better mood. TLOT found his new NOTCH and let them in without warning me.

[CN] - Another one?

[Doc] Yeah, and hopefully it is someone who won't make him crazy. He's still a bit scared of you guys. Well, except for Markus and Buff.

[CN] - Why would he be scared of us?

[Doc] Because his NOTCH was a monster.

[CN] - But I didn't do anything!

[Doc] You hurt your pet. That scared him.

[Firebird] When all you know for a NOTCH is an absolute monster, you're scared they'll all be like that, CN.

[Firebird] That too.

[CN] - Oh...

[Doc] That's why he punished you so harshly and suddenly. He was just as helpless to fight back against the pain and terror his NOTCH put him though as your pet.

[CN] Stays quiet and scuffs his foot on the ground-

[Doc] Kneels down close to Cn- You have to understand that players often feel the same way about Herobrines. Some of them are mean like Mb and they learn that the eyes mean trouble, and go after them. Even the ones who haven't done anything to deserve it.

[CN] - So it's the players fault?

[Doc] No, they're just scared too.

[CN] - Oh...

[Firebird] Its the few bad ones in the bunch that ruin it for others.

[CN] - I wanna go home...

[Firebird] Mine, or Lie's?

[Doc] Lie is probably wondering where you are.

[CN] - Lie's...

[Firebird] I'll walk you there.

[CN] - Thank you

[Doc] Anytime. - Smiles

[Firebird] Have a nice night, Doctor. Let's go CN.

[Tungsten] is happily shaping a chunk of obsidian into a tiny chestplate with flame designs

[CN] Takes Firebirds hand as they go-

[Traveler] Is watching curiously.

[Lie] Is keeping CP calm-

[Aurum] Is instructing Tungsten on a few of the more fine details and how to make them-

[TLOT] Has put down a wool block to sit on and is making a few flitters to calm his nerves. They're mostly purple or red and the finished ones are flitting around the forge-

[Steve] Make it spikier!

[Lie] - Oh that's right, Doc wanted to talk to you about small birds TLOT

[CP] Irritated noises-

[TLOT] What about them?

[Lie] - To make them, they seemed a bit inspired after our trip to the zoo

[TLOT] I'm not sure how confident I'm feeling making birds with that psycho peacock running around.

[Lie] Gives him mental images of normal bird behavior-

[TLOT] It seems innocent enough. It's the programming I'm worried about. - He looks at Steve for the barest moment

[Traveler] Ah... the undeads...

[Peacock] Is stalking Firebird and Cn-

[Lie] - You've gotten really good at that, plus I'm sure Doc wouldn't mind helping.  Hell Dofta might even be willing to help you

[Firebird] - walky walky with CN, pointedly ignoring stalker bird-

[TLOT] Looks unsure and unhappy that Traveler mentioned his biggest failing so casually.

[Peacock] Moving a bit closer---

[Tungsten] Is now working on some teeny leg armor-

[Aurum] - Careful, take this slow, you don't want it to crack because of how thin it is

[Tungsten] Looks a bit silly working the tiny piece in his huge hands- I'm going slow...

[Peacock] Suddenly charges Firebird and jumps against his back, swatting him with their wings-

[CN] Startled, he runs for the town-

[Peacock] Is all over Firebird -

[Firebird] - very panicked bird squawking before taking off full speed, hopping and swatting trying to get peacock off him - NOOOO! GET OFFFFF!

[CN] Runs right for the forge-

[Peacock] Is either trying to hump Firebird or kick his butt. It's entirely unclear.

-bird screeching noises-

[Traveler] Jumps as Cn barrels into her legs- What the?!

[Lie] - CN!

[CN] - Lie!  The peacock's on Firebird!

[Lie] Sets CP on her lap and opens her arms to hug CN-

-Firebird vanishes into distance, still screeching and hopping like a madman-

[TLOT] Face in hands- I think I'll stick with my bugs

[CN] Moves into Lies embrace, snuggling in closer-

[Lie] Feels the tickling of feathers on her legs- Um... CN?

[Traveler] Looks down at Cn and mumbles a string of numbers- are you following your protocols little NOTCH? Is this your brine?

[CN] Makes an unsure noise and presses closer to LIe-

[Lie] - Yes this is my NOTCH, and he does very well at his job, plus he gets lessons from a much older NOTC/h

[Traveler] May I ask why he has a tail?

[TLOT] aggravated groan and he vanishes in a puff of bedrock fog.

[Steve] Suprised jump as a glowing eyed endermite crawls onto his shoulder and nuzzles into his hair.

[Traveler] Interesting trick...

[Lie] - I'm wondering that myself...

[CN] Blushes- I couldn't change all the way back...  But Firebird says he thinks it looks nice!

[Traveler] It does look pretty, I was just curious

[Tungsten] All done! - He fits the armor onto the lethargic cat and steps back to admire. It's black with decorative tongues of flame incised into it. There's a row of wicked spikes on the back and a sort of frill behind the tiny helm to protect his neck. There are also two little horns over his eyes.

[Drilby] Yeeaaah! Awesome!

[Steve] I like it!

[CP] Tiny hiss, there's catnip sticking out of the opening around the neck since it hadn't been removed-

[Lie] Can't help but laugh a little-

[Traveler] I take it he doesn't have a sense of humor and would be murdering the lot of you if he wasn't on whatever herb you've given him?

[Steve] Probably, but it still looks really cool!

[Tungsten] basks in the praise and starts working on TLOTs chestplate.

[Lie] - We'll probably pay for this later

[CN] - I'll protect you!

[Drilby] it's still awesome. He looks great. Fiercest cat ever!

[Lie] Smiles a bit- Yeah, he is

[CN] - Lie, Firebird didn't tell me I could change back until today!

[Steve] That's not very nice...

[CN] Huffs and crosses his arms- He said it was because I was molting...

[Traveler] so are there any actual players here I need yo be concerned about?

[Steve] oh! Is that why you're colorful now?

[CN] - Yes...  But he wouldn't let me have my other feathers...

[Lie] - No, there are no players here

[Traveler] That's going to make my job rather easy. I suspect that my brine isn't a danger to anyone here, and is unlikely to need protecting either?

[Steve] He's not dangerous!

[Drilby] He runs the village with a light hand, mostly just lending us his guards for defense against the mobs.

[Traveler] Guards?

[Steve] My brothers, skeletons whom I've earned the respect of from our native seed.

[Traveler] I see...

[Drilby] They're a nice bunch once you learn the lingo.

[TLOT] Mentally and loud enough for anyone to hear - Whos shirt is Cn wearing and why?

[Lie] - Steve's brothers will swing by my place when they know CP isn't around just to make sure I'm alright, and because they know I can understand them

[Firebird] -In chat- gffffffffffffffffffffh MINE

[Firebird] -A bit later- HE NAKEY WHENHKFFF TURN BACK

[TLOT] Understood - Settles back down into Steve's hair-

[Lie] Sneaks a pic of CN's tail to send to Dofta-

[CP] Flops over with a clank-

[Aurum] Just starts laughing-

[Drilby] Gently right Cp with a little squeak of armor - It's not that heavy!

[CP] Just flops the other direction-

[Drilby] Is laughing now despite himself and arranges Cp into a loaf-

[Steve] Quietly took a picture. -

[CP] Small quiet purr-

[CN] Is looking at stuff around the forge-

[Tungsten] Is taking his time with the gold chestplate, he's enjoying listening to them laugh and chat- Hey there kiddo. What's new?

[CN] Shrugs- Nothing

[Firebird] -In bird form- -Shoots into the forge and proceeds to scale the wall and then cling to the ceiling. He snaps up his tail and cranes his neck to stare at the door he'd left open.-

[Peacock] Goes squwaking by outside

[Traveler] Hello?

[CN] - Firebird!

[Steve] Firebird!

[Drilby] Is there an echo in here?

[Firebird] -stares at door and stays clung until peacock has passed-

[Firebird] -Leans head toward door to listen a bit before looking down at them-

[Lie] - I think you're safe now Firebird

[Tungsten] Watch your feathers birdie, you're a tad close to the lava trough. -tap tap tink-

[Traveler] More birds?

[Firebird] -Starts to scale back down before looking over at lava. Scoot a bit toward and chirp-

[Tungsten] Um? Yeah, it's hot.

[Steve] Hey Firebird, look at the awesome armor Tungsten made for Cp!

[Firebird] I hate that thing. -Loses interest in lava and scales the rest of the way down, laying in a feathery heap- Hmm?

[Firebird] -Scoot scoot and look-

[Aurum] - Huh, feather's that match the lava

[CP] Is still very dazed-

[TLOT] Tiny unhappy noise in relation to the peacock-

[Firebird] Nice. Reminds me of my old stuff...

[Drilby] Is admiring Firebird in general and pulls out a piece of paper and a quill-

[Firebird] -Finally rights himself and lightly preens his feathers to calm down from being chased and jumped-

[CN] - Firebird, where did your eye go?

[Steve] He's always been missing an eye, hasn't he?

[Firebird] Scrkk. -beakful of feathers- I took it out when I changed. I got a false one from the Doctor.

[CN] - But I didn't get to poke it!

[Steve] Why would you want to poke it? They're just little glass balls.

[CN] Shrugs-

[Tungsten] Has finished with the chestplate and holds it out to Steve.

[Steve] Perfect, thank you Tungsten - He holds it up and lets it suck into TLOT's inventory.

[Tungsten] So what's this about eyeballs?

[Firebird] I got a fake one to replace my lost one...

[Drilby] Still drawing- I could make you a leather eyepatch. That would be dashing.

[Aurum] - My, aren't we being creative today

[Drilby] Beams with pride-  We still have some glass from the glassblowers place too.

[Firebird] -Notices Aurum- Oh, a spirit. That's cool. -Tilts head a bit- Haven't seen many in.. Ages.

[Tungsten] I'd go white, maybe with a little swirl?

[Traveler] In honor of your Herobrine?

[Tungsten] Nah, it's just good contrast to all his red feathers.

[Lie] Carefully picks CP up and puts him in her lap to pet him-

[Firebird] -Stretches before slowly scooting back toward the lava trough- Hmm?

[Tungsten] Unless you're fireproof as well, be careful.

[Firebird] I'm sun proof, even better.

[CN] - Am I sun proof?

[Firebird] ....... -Slowly- Nooooo.

[Traveler] I'm not sure what you mean by that, but I am a very stable NOTCH.

[Steve] What do you mean, stable?

[Firebird] I'm not. -Snorts and leans head real close to the lava, basking in the warmth-

[Traveler] Points at TLOT - He's fluid. I'm... not.

[Drilby] Why are you unstable Firebird? Do you have a glitch?

[Firebird] Probably. I meant more mentally though. Ahh, this is warm. I love it.

[Drilby] As long as you don't get in the way, feel free to come around anytime. - He holds up the piece of paper. He's drawn a pretty good likeness of firebird with his wings spread and mouth open like the birds on knights shields.

[Tungsten] Leans over- Nice.

[Lie] - I love how warm it is in here

[Tungsten] Is shirtless under his leather apron and gloves and sweating a bit. - I'm used to it, but it's pretty hot all the same.

[Firebird] That looks nice!  I'd ask for a copy but I don't want to switch back for hands. If that bird comes back I want to be able to escape fast..

[Drilby] Is too skinny to be overheated-

[Steve] Is by the open doors where there's a breeze.

[CP] Little yowl-

[Drilby] Don't you have an inventory?

[Steve] Poor Cp. He's really upset....

[Firebird] Well yes, but I have a harder time with it like this...

[Lie] - I know, and it worries me...  I spoke to Endrea briefly, but she'd have to go over there to contact Winston...

[Drilby] Well... I'll just hang it up over here. Then you can see it when you visit. - Puts the page on an item frame and sticks it to the wall by the door where it won't catch fire-

[Steve] Has she gone already?

[Lie] - No, I told her not to yet until we had some sort of plan in place.  I don't want to run the risk of her becoming very injured or dying

[Traveler] Do you need any assistance?

[Lie] - It would be appreciated, but I'm not sure how my husbands mobs would react to you.  They are aggressive towards NOTCH's, especially after what Harvestman did to CP and I

[Traveler] Ask Cp how fast I am.

[Steve] She is pretty tough....

[Firebird] If I'm available I'd love to help, Lie.

[Lie] - We could try...  TLOT?  Do you mind watching CP?

[TLOT] Mentally- I don't mind. But please be careful Lie.

[Lie] - I will be.  Are you two ready to go now?

[CN] - I wanna go!

[Lie] - No CN, you stay here with TLOT and Steve

[Traveler] I am ready.

[Drilby] Come on Cn, we could draw?

[CN] - Crayons?

[Aurum] Chuckles a little at the child's enthusiasm-

[Firebird] I'm good to go. -Moves away from lava trough-

[Lie] Takes a nervous breath before creating the opening to CP's office and goes through-

[Traveler] Follows her curiously- Portals on portals, where are we?

[Lie] - My husbands seed, the place where I was first brought in

[Firebird] -Scampers through after them and takes to the air to try and land on Lie's shoulder like a parrot-

[Lie] Yelps and falls forwards, using CP's desk to support herself-

[Traveler] In the Nether though...

[Firebird] Heavy am I.

[Lie] - Come on, we need to find any of the generals...

[Traveler] Pulls out her daggers and follows with them concealed against her hands.

[Lie] Opens the doors leading to the hallway and stifles a scream as she quickly steps back.  The hallway is filled with the corpses of mobs-

[Firebird] -Stoops a bit on Lie's shoulder, craning his neck out to look around- ..Oh.

[Traveler] What in the nether? Why... and they have not despawned?

[Firebird] That's a thing that happens on some seeds.

[Lie] - That's how it is on this seed...

[Lie] - We need to keep moving- She begins using her vines to create a path and begins going down the hall leading towards the main entrance of the fortress.  As she rounds a corner she stops at the sight of a great hulking corpse- Grayson...

[Traveler] This one you knew? I am sorry. Only a player drunk with power or a madman would kill so many...

[Firebird] That's.. Huge.... And the rest.... -Slowly raising in temperature on Lie's shoulder-

[Lie] - He was one of my husbands generals...  He wasn't the brightest, but he was very strong...

[Traveler] I think this is quickly becoming a rescue mission.

[Lie] - Indeed, let's hope the overworld is in better condition

[Firebird] Indeed.....

[Lie] Heads for the main doors and pushes them open, leading out into the expanse of the nether- If I recall correctly, the closest nether portal is that way- Points off to the left- That would be my best guess as to where they went...

[Traveler] Let's hurry. This is rather disconcerting-

[Firebird] -Looking around from his perch on Lie's shoulder, alert.-

[Lie] Leads them along past the corpses of ghasts, pigmen, and blazes.  Soon the nether portal comes into sight and Lie slips through it, into the cold taiga beyond-

[Traveler] Puts her hood up again, she's all but lost against the white snow-

-Warm bird is a blessing-

[Lie] - Winston?- She's hoping the general is near

-There's a bit of movement from the shadows-

[Firebird] -Head snap around to look at movement-

[Traveler] Is scanning around for any sign of ambush-

[Firebird] -Toasty Toasting Lie with Proximity-

-Four Wither skeletons silently slip out of the shadows-

[Lie] Breathes a sigh of relief- Oh thank goodness, at least you four are alright.  Do you know where Winston is?

[Skeleton] Nods and motions for Lie to follow before heading off deeper into the trees-

[Lie] Follows deeper into the trees until they reach a rather well hidden cave, the skeletons push aside the brush in front of it and motions Lie and the others through.  Deep inside there is signs of fire and Lie heads straight for it-

[Traveler] Is making sure they aren't followed and sweeping away their tracks in the snow-

-Winston is sitting gathered with a few nether mobs as well as Blake, Magnolia, and Eliza.  They are all that remain-

[Lie] - Winston...

[Winston] - Mistress!  What are you doing here!  It's too dangerous!

[Firebird] -Eyes them from Lie's shoulder-

[Traveler] Looks up at them and her beady black eyes glint in the torchlight-  We came to rescue you.

[Winston] Leaps up and draws his sword- NOTCH!  How dare you come here!

[Lie] Notices that one of Winston's arms is missing- Winston, your arm...  And it's alright, she's not here to hurt you, she's here to help

[Eliza] - Mistress, are you sure about this?

[Firebird] -Slight tensing on Lie's shoulder, talons digging in. He's homed in on Winston a bit-

[Traveler] Her blades shine in her hands- I dare to go anywhere I please. I am NOTCH the Traveler.

[Lie] - Everyone please calm down...  Winston...  Is this all that's left?

[Winston] - I'm afraid so Mistress, other than Endrea and her children that is...

[Lie] Bows her head in sorrow-

[Traveler] They will be avenged. My coding includes exceptions for eliminating mad NOTCHs. We are not meant to hunt and torture mobs.

[Firebird] -Relaxes on Lie's shoulder-

[Lie] - We need to hurry before-

[Harvestman] - Well isn't this a surprise- His voice seems to emanate from everywhere

[Traveler] Seems to twitch, it's almost like a nervous tic-

[Firebird] -Tense, Lie is very, very toasty.-

[Lie] Searches frantically for the source of the voice-

[Harvestman] - And here I thought I had completely eliminated you...  So does this mean that blasted brine is still alive as well?

[Traveler] If you wish to fight, you should show yourself. - She puts her blades away and takes out a grass block.

[Firebird] -Looking around too-

[Lie] looks in confusion at the grass block-

[Harvestman] Throws down the four wither skeleton skulls of the ones that led Lie to Winston before stepping into sight.  One half of his face is scared and looks almost as if it were liquefied and then frozen solid again, there's a small trickle of blood coming form his mouth as well- I suppose I'll just have to eliminate you again, and this time for good- He begins drawing his sword

[Traveler] Shakes her head and her hood falls away, she spits a string of numbers like a curse. - Abberation. You are an embarassment to your kind-

[Harvestman] - No, I should be the only one of our kind kit

[Firebird] -Shifts on Lie's shoulder, parting his beak a bit- -Toasty fire forming at the back of his throat-

[Lie] - I will not allow you to harm the rest of my husbands mobs

[Harvestman] - Husband?  Well now, perhaps I should keep you around as bait then

-a lone enderpearl is flipped like a coin in the air and Traveler is suddenly right in Harvestmans face-

[Traveler] Shoves the grass block at him and for a second it ceases to be there, dirty pixels flying off her hands in a cloud as it's center is revealed. She's clutching the hilt of a broken black and red sword with only a few inches of blade remaining. She jabs it at his chest and viciously draws a ragged slice across his torso, throwing blood across her already soiled poncho.

[Harvestman] Is a bit surprised but is quick to swing his sword at her- Impudent little bitch!

[Traveler] Is dodging out of the way but can't avoid the sword as it hits her. Suprisingly it bounces off her naked arm and she reels sideways from the force alone-

[Firebird] -Clicks his beak before surging upwards and slightly towards Harvestman, unleashing a torrent of superheated flames and staying just out of reach of sword- -Vague screeeee noise-

[Harvestman] Tries shielding himself with his arm-

[Lie] - Quickly opens a portal- Everybody through!  Now!

[Winston] Urges the others ahead of him-

[Firebird] -Hovers in the air, spewing fire and waiting for the others to get through-

[Traveler] Lurches to her feet and helps hurry the mobs through the hole, making sure no one is left behind-

[Lie] - Firebird!  Come on!

[Firebird] -Snaps beak shut and spins in the air, diving for the portal-

[Lie] Once firebird is through she slips through and quickly shuts the portal-

-They emerge into a rather tense scene with a backdrop of very loud growling. In the center of the village is an enderdragon nearly as massive as Endrea but with TLOT's glimmering eyes, they're so bright they're hard to look at directly. On his head is Steve clutching a still lethargic Cp in one arm and hanging onto Cn with the other. Under the dragons sheltering wings and inside the curl of his tail are nearly all of the Testificate villagers and the human children, the rest have run inside and are hiding-

[TLOT] Is vibrating slightly as he growls and holding his paws up to swat any mob that comes close-

[Traveler] Is again holding a grass block and just puts it away. - Now that's something I never thought I'd see.

-Tungsten and Zile are at the head of the small, sheltered mob, both ready to fight anyone who comes close-

-There's a bit of commotion as Steve's brothers jump the village gates on their skeletal horses and take aim on the crowd of nether mobs as well-

[unpack-my-heart]

@constantreaderfool @xandertheundead @tinyarmedtrex @violetreddie @mrs-vh @eds-trashmouth

The Tozier residence was nestled in the belly of a small hill at the edge of the village. It was small, rickety, and, in high winds, almost always looked like it was about to collapse. Despite this, though, the sounds of laugher coming from within the small house could be heard for what seemed like miles away. As Edward approached, three small children were playing with sticks in the plush grass, and Wentworth Tozier was chopping firewood with a large axe.

“Hello, boy!”

“Hello, Sir”

“How is the best alchemical apprentice this fine summers evening?”

“I am well, Sir, thank you, Sir”

“Come with news about my boy?”

“Um – well, in some way. I’ve come to ask if you could send Richard back with me, Paracelsus asks that –“

“What do you mean back with you? Is he not still at your workshop?”

“No, Sir, he left about four hours ago”

Wentworth Tozier stopped chopping wood, and gently threw the axe to the ground. He wiped the back of his hand across his glistening forehead.

“I haven’t seen Rich since this morning when we sent him over to Paracelsus. Why do you need him to return?”

“It’s nothing – I mean, it is definitely something but it is nothing to be concerned about. When Richard returns home if you could pass on my message I would be most grateful. Thank you, Sir” Edward babbled, before turning swiftly on his heels and marching down the road.

Wentworth Tozier shrugged, and continued to chop.

He is dead in a ditch.

He grew dizzy and fell off the bridge on his way home.

He succumbed to the illness and is now one with the Earth.

He’s ran off to fetch the chief constable to accuse Edward of witchcraft.

Various catastrophic scenarios swam around the murky soup of Edward’s brain like fish, darting in and out of his attention. Nervousness bubbled in his stomach like acid as he walked aimlessly around the village, wildly hoping that he’d bump into Richard, or spot him in one of the ale houses.

Richard wasn’t in any of the ale houses, nor was he in the church. He wasn’t lurking around the canal, and he wasn’t watch the fish swim in the parish pond.

He was nowhere, as if he’d vanished from the village entirely.

– X –

Sarah Blundy was minding her own business when a glittering light at the outermost edge of the forest caught her eye.

A tree.

A tree that … seemed to be gradually turning to gold.

The first few meters of the tree were solid gold, and more and more of the tree seemed to be turning to gold, as if the gold was consuming the bark, and eating the leaves.

Staring at this transforming tree, Sarah Blundy fainted.

– X –

After three days of searching, Edward gave up searching for Richard, resigning to the fact that wherever he was hiding, he did not want to be found.

However, three days after Richard had gone missing, Paracelsus shook Edward awake.

“Have you heard about the trees?”

“The trees?” Edward yawned, sitting half up in bed, the scratchy blanket falling around his waist.

“The golden trees!”

“Golden… trees?”

“Eddie, I love you like you are my own son but you are a fool,” Paracelsus scolded, lightly smacking Edward over the head.

“Oh, Hell! Richard!”

“Yes! Now you understand. Richard must have disappeared to take cover in the forest. I suppose it is hardly surprising. What this does mean, though, is that he is probably rather easy to find”

“And I suppose I must go to fetch him?”

“Who else would you send?”

“Perhaps… you?”

“Am I the one that gave the Tozier boy the powers of a mythical King?”

“… No, Sir”

“Who did give Richard the powers of a mythical King?”

“… Me, Sir”

“There, you have your answer”

“I will go and look at first light”

“Very good. The poor boy is likely to be scared out of his wits, so be gentle with him”

“Of course”

When Edward arose from his slumber several hours later, Paracelsus thrust several parchments at him.

“These will explain to Richard what I think has happened to him, and give him my personal reassurance that you are not a witch and he is not cursed. Hopefully they’ll convince him to go with you. Now, the first golden tree was spotted near the Cooke residence”

“The house with the broken chimney?”

“That’s the one. If you cannot find him, please do return before sundown. I do not want to have to come looking for you”

“Yes, Sir!”

Edward wolfed down his breakfast of a lump of cheese, two slices of bread and scrambled out of the workshop in less than half an hour. The walk to the edge of the forest was pleasant, the sun was rising towards the top of the heavens, and there was a light breeze moving the air just enough so that it wasn’t too hot. Eventually, the dusty path that winded through the village stopped abruptly, and an empty, lush field stretched on in front of him, a dense forest bordering the field at the opposite end. Edward hopped over the fence, and walked through the field. When he’d gotten about half way, he noticed a mass of people standing beneath an oppressively large, completely golden Oak tree.

Picking up the pace, Edward all but ran to join the people.

“Pardon me, Sir, but do you know what happened here?” Edward asked the nearest man.

“It’s the work of an angel, my lad. God is smiling down at us and he has sent us these miraculous golden trees as proof of his excellence. Praise Him! Rejoice in Him!”

“Thank you” Edward replied dutifully, moving to the front of the crowd to get a better look.

The golden tree at the edge of the forest was just one of many entirely golden trees in the forest, stretching back in a sea of shimmering metal as far as Eddie’s eyes could see.

One peculiar thing, though, was the fact that all of the trees were in a perfect line.

Richard must have come this way.

Without further delay, Edward pushed his was past the crowd and began walking down the path.

“Hey! Boy! You, HEY!”

“What do you think you are doing!”

“You cannot follow the sacred path!”

“Blasphemer!”

“Oh, He’s the alchemists apprentice. No wonder he’s defying God – TRAITOR!”

Edward ignored the frenzied shouts of the crowd, walked through the forest, following the trail of golden trees. The trail continued on for some time, in a perfectly straight line. The further into the forest he went, Edward started to notice the less gold the trees were. Some trees were gold except the very tops, and some trees only had golden trunks, the branches and leaves still illuminated in technicolour by the sun.

Odd.

Suddenly, the trail stopped.

The last tree in the trail was barely golden at all, only the bark a few inches off the ground had turned.

Odd.

The trail had stopped in a grassy clearing, long reeds rustling in the summer breeze. However, as Edward walked towards the centre of the clearing, he noticed that it wasn’t … all grass. There was a large patch of churned up mud, like someone had purposefully attacked the ground with some sort of tool, an axe perhaps. This was surely done on purpose, Edward mused, and recently, too. The mud had not solidified in the sun, and was still soft and malleable to the touch. Edward squatted in the dirt, and sifted it through his fingers. Tiny, blink-and-you’ll-miss-them blades of grass fell to the floor with a soft thud.

Grass doesn’t thud.

Edward looked down, and on the floor by his feet lay five golden blades of grass. The only golden blades of grass in the clearing, Edward noticed, as he scanned about.

Odd.

Edward picked up the golden blades of grass and weighed them in his fingers.

“There must have been more of this,” he mused aloud.

There was no reason that Richard should have specifically chosen to turn these few blades of grass into gold, not when he’d turned dozens of trees to gold on his journey to this clearing. He must have turned great clumps of grass into metal, and someone must have taken the rest.  

Edward looked at the mud. Firmly indented in the soft surface were footprints.

Huge, wide footprints. Footprints that looked vaguely human, but the sheer width of them sent shivers of fear down Edward’s spine.

Scattered among these inhumanly large footprints, though, were footprints that surely must have been made by a regularly sized human. These footprints disappeared suddenly after the patch of mud. If these footprints belonged to Richard, it appeared that he had walked to this clearing, to this exact point, and then vanished entirely. The larger footprints did not disappear, though, and Edward followed the winding trail further into the forest. When the trail showed no sign of ending, and the sun was hanging heavy and bloated in the sky, threatening to disappear behind the hills, Edward decided to return to the workshop to gather supplies.

“Who has taken you, Richard?” Edward asked the air that just wailed in answer.

– X –

“Another golden sculpture?” Edward asked, sceptically, “Where are you getting these from?”

“From a master sculptor in Wandermere, my good Sir. His hands are guided by the lord, and he creates these golden trinkets as an expression of his faith”

The man stood before Edward was pale, and unfortunately deformed, with a large, bulbous forehead and pointed nose. He stood several feet taller than Edward, but walked with a hunch, bones creaking under his pallid, and thin looking skin. Blue-ish grey veins snaked across the merchants arms, as he lifted box upon box out of his small cart. He lifted beautiful golden chalices with perfectly etched intricate patterns, golden knives with solid metal sheaths, and even, to Edward’s curiosity, intricately carved golden books out of the boxes, and displayed them on a small table. The books, in particular, piqued Edward’s interest. They were perfectly rendered in smooth, faultlessly thin sheets of metal. The golden books are … too perfect. Too perfect to have been crafted by the flawed hands of man using tools and manual labour.

“So you say these books were crafted by a goldsmith, by hand?”

“Yes”

“He was able to make this many in such a short space of time?”

The stranger stuttered, eyes flashing with a curious kind of panic.

“As I said, he is a master sculptor”

“How did he get the text so neatly onto the golden leaf? It looks as if it was drawn with just a quill and ink, not etched with cumbersome tools”

“Enough with the incessant questioning,” the stranger snapped, snatching the golden book from Edwards grasp. “Do you wish to purchase anything, or not?”

“I do not think I do, thank you”

The stranger said nothing, but his lip curled wolfishly, revealing a set of unnaturally sharp teeth. Teeth that would look more at home in the mouth of a beast than a man. Edward could feel his blood turn cold. Wordlessly, the stranger began to stack the boxes back into his small cart, before clambering into it himself. The small, morose looking donkey attached to the cart heaved itself onto its feet, before slowly plodding away, out of the village and down the dusty track towards the golden trees.

Without thought, Edward followed them.

– X –

“Can I come out, yet?”

“No! It is not safe, a mortal could see you”

“But it smells like something has died under here”

“You are smelling your own breath”

“Shut your mouth, Patrikos, or I shall stopper it with your own heart”

“Children! All of you. No better than mortal children”

“I still do not understand why you are in charge”

“Erebus decreed it, Victilios, I have told you of this before”

“We have not seen Him for centuries, is there no opportunity for a change in power? Perhaps he would not notice”

“Do not question His motivations or he may smite you down. Not that I would complain, of course”

“Henrion, have we fed the Midas child in recent days?”

“I do not remember, Reginas, though he has not died yet so we must have”

“DO NOT TOUCH ME WITH YOUR WITHERED HAND YOU KNOW HOW IT DISTURBS ME”

– X –

The small cart bounced along the dusty track, past the grassy clearing where Edward had found the golden blades of grass, and journeyed deep into the forest. The trees became dense enough to block out the sun. Only one man sat upon the cart, the stranger who had been selling the golden wears in the village for several days, but Edward could hear four voices floating through the air as he followed the cart several feet behind.

Nimbly, Edward darted from tree to tree, never taking his eye from the small cart. They continued on for several hours, and Edward's legs grew wearier and wearier, until, without warning, the cart vanished. Edward watched in horror as it appeared to be swallowed whole by darkness, as it disappeared down into ... nothingness.

After waiting for several seconds, Edward sprang forward. He ran towards where the cart had disappeared, and found himself face to face with the entrance to an underground passage way. Edward stared into the void, and the void stared back at him.