the people have spoken and it took me a while but... behold
malorn keychain preorder
now featuring better contrast and a glittery front side
black hardware
2.5"
and also...
mellori chain charm preorder
double sided so you get not one but two outfits to adorn your keys
jingly jangly and fun to swing around
green hardware
new: single mellori keychain for same price as malorn
thank you for reading and as a reminder i make like no profit on these so KI doesn't sue me and because i really want them to find good homes 😭 i'll leave these open for a week (8/14/23-8/21/23) depending on interest
update: i bungled some shipping settings... these guys can now be purchased internationally/outside usa!
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The wizard is glad they are sent to Cyrus when things have settled. That again, he is the one who knows anything of the world they are seeking, out of everyone.
“I want you to seek out an old…friend of mine.” He explains the bones of their quest—find Ivan the Great, have him aid in finding Baba Yaga, convince her to help with Bartleby’s ailment—and it feels painfully simple. But they know better. It will not remain so.
“Polaris lies at the very edge of the Spiral—on the horizon as it were—Where land meets sky, where the worlds fall off into the endless expanse of the in-between. Why it would cause Bartleby to fall ill, I cannot begin to fathom. But if there are answers to be found in Polaris, you would be the one to find them.”
The spiral key for Polaris looks like a little three pronged lamp-post. Silvery and shining faintly.
They are going to need to invest in a bigger keyring soon…
Before going, a note of importance.
“I know the others have it handled, but—”
“—Rest assured I will keep eyes and ears out for Mr. Grimwater.” Cyrus finishes before they get the words out. It offers a relief the wizard can barely explain. They cannot shake the feeling that there is a wrongness to his disappearance, a danger around it.
“Thank you. Really.” They force themself not to add for everything.
They have been trying harder to make their interactions with other people feel less final.
It’s hard.
But they’re trying.
Penny and Malorn are standing by Bartleby waiting for them.
It’s not going to be like the last time.
There is urgency here, yes, but they are not sprinting forward after their own demise.
“Be careful,” Penny urges as soon as they are in earshot.
“I will be,” the wizard responds, “this—this won’t be as bad as the other worlds I’ve been to in the last year. In and out.” Maybe if they speak that into existence it will become true. Probably not.
“Somehow I doubt that,” Malorn says, “if you need us, or need a break—if you can get one—I’ll be here or in Dragonspyre.”
“I’m going back to Marleybone for a while to visit my parents,” Penny adds, “but promise if something happens—”
“—You’ll be the first to know.” The wizard assures her.
It’s a lie.
They are going to keep these things as far from the others as they can manage.
This is the first time they’ve walked through Bartleby in…a very long time. It looks different. Leaves falling and wilting in every corner, autumn colors invade upon the green, not vibrant but sickly and muted. They try not to think that it’s helping. The fact that it has changed within the chamber means it is not throwing them so distinctly back into the moments after Azteca.
The door opens onto a chill, onto the distinct smell of snow.
“Ahem!”
A…penguin?
A…French penguin.
The inhabitants of the spiral never cease to be interesting at least.
Sometimes their memories from Earth have use here. But why anyone would decide for penguins to be French—especially in a locale that seems more like tsarist Russia—they don’t particularly have time to dwell on. The only reason it’s familiar at all is because they had been fixated on that animated movie about a missing Russian princess for several years of their young childhood. They can almost hear the music as they walk through the streets.
Routine falls into place.
Maybe it’s the fact that prior to this they were involved in an outright war, but the fighting here seems almost trivial. Before they know it, they are wrapped up in a revolution, throwing fish into the harbor, following Red Rosa to whatever she needs.
And then they are assisting a polar bear in dancing a ballet—and gods that movie just keeps coming back to pester them doesn’t it—but it feels good to be doing something that isn’t…dueling. Somewhere along the line one of the Patriôtes had handed the wizard a saber that was now functioning as their wand—something they haven’t really done since Avalon, and before that Dragonspyre—it makes the battles a bit visceral for their tastes, especially when they are not yet sure of their purpose here.
Find Ivan.
This does prove to be fairly straightforward, and following him through his aid to the Patriôtes and their rebellion is both easy and—a little entertaining. There is an element of joy that underlies every act of resistance, and Ivan’s intensity in battle has them missing Dyvim. But like everyone, they leave him when the time comes. Walking into the cold expansive woods alone in search of Baba Yaga.
An eerie silence permeates this part of the forest. It is as though all the wildlife were holding its breath.
Raven is loud here, near as loud as she is in Grizzleheim.
The wizard ignores her. They have been doing so for months now, still angry for Nidavellir, for her dragging Malorn and the other necromancers into problems that did not need to be theirs. But they never went back to see her, they meant to at least try and get answers about Lorcan—
But then Duncan went missing, and now this.
It doesn’t matter.
Grandmother Raven is not going anywhere.
They can go and shout themself hoarse at her perch whenever the mood strikes.
What the wizard does find in this silent clearing of the wood, is a girl.
A human girl.
Which—under many circumstances shouldn’t be considered strange, but the only other human they’ve seen in Polaris thus far is Rasputin. It’s not often they run into people who aren’t also some kind of creature. Though on closer inspection, perhaps this girl is some kind of creature. There are inky black feathers shifting in her hair that look as though they sprout straight from her scalp along with it.
Later they learn the girl—Mellori—is Baba Yaga’s daughter. Given that the witch herself lives inside a house with chicken legs, Mellori’s feathered hair no longer strikes them as surprising. Nor does her immediate act of following them to the Auroracle. Mellori reminds them of their younger self. Hungry for adventure and mystery.
The wizard isn’t sure yet if that is a welcome comfort, or a bad omen for their new friend’s future.
Read the whole series here <3
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