If there's formatting problems, I apologize; first time trying to post
stories from this account to the FFML. Use the copy on the website if there
are any problems. Thanks!
+-----------------+
| |S|L|A|Y|E|R|S| |
|S|T|A|R|B|O|A|R|D|
+--+------+-------+------------------------------+
| Five | The Happiest Days of Our Lives |
+------+--------------------------------------+
A Slayers Fanfic Series by Stefan "Twoflower" Gagne
(Certain characters copyright H. Kanzaka / R. Araizumi, obviously.
If I ever even considered claiming that those were my own characters
I'd probably be thrown into a small cell where I'd be forced to eat
my own testicular fortitude to live.)
Check out the web center with fanart, *exclusive side stories* and more,
at
--> http://pixelscapes.com/slayers/starboard <--
-=-
On a high tower on a clear evening a happy family sets down to dinner.
Smiles are all around, bright like the silverware on which they dine.
Good food prepared by the happy mother is passed around and eaten, and that
makes them happy. Dessert is ice cream which makes the young boy very
happy,
it's always been his favorite.
Afterwards, father reads a good book which makes him happy and mother
knits clothes for the boy, which makes both of them happy. The boy plays
with the dog and the dog is happy as well. Soon they will have guests, and
this makes them happy because they can make their guests happy with their
good food and hospitality.
The fire in the fireplace (while not happy because fires don't have
emotions) is cozy and warm and not at all threatening. Very hospitable.
The clock high above the fireplace ticks its seconds back and forth in
the empty night, and the hands don't move, and that makes them happiest of
all.
[*]
The sun is low in the sky as a man sits alone on the docks of Bloody
Dangerous Island. One could assume his solitude was because of the
gathering
in town square, where the town was heralding the end of a legend -- the
treasure of the Christopher family was finally claimed, the statue's hidden
compartment hanging open and empty. One could assume that and be wrong.
The simple truth is that fishing is unpopular on Bloody Dangerous
Island. Due to the random discharge of raw magic into the waters from
spells
gone bad, the fish have developed a certain edge to them. Usually they're
stupid enough to keep biting the worms and being yanked up into the big
bright dry world before some man clubs them with a stick and sells them with
white wine sauce. Fish who have been warped a little by magic are not that
stupid.
There were two fishers sitting on this dock originally, but the half-
circle of jagged, splintered wood and loosened teeth where the first was
sitting should be enough to figure out where he went. The second fisherman
was totally unafraid of the local homicidal seafood, however; he was the
most
dangerous thing in his immediate vicinity, and that was a source of much
comfort.
His solitude was quite pleasant, after a full night in the company of a
human. It still mystified him, the strange rites humans went through to
satisfy their urges. A lot of his peers loved that sort of thing, but it
made as much sense to him as music would to a deaf man. It was an
interesting experience, but not one he really cared about one way or the
other.
But his partner... there was some kind of misguided desperation there.
Some longing need she didn't know how to handle, and his little speech about
how they didn't have to give a damn about each other seemed to ground the
lightning. Bizarre. Hopefully he wouldn't have to deal with 'the morning
after' as humans called it...
No hope of that. She marched her way down the dock, her boots
straining
the wet wooden planks with obvious creaks and groans. A quiet little
scuffle
of boots followed her; likely her short-stuff lackey of a first mate...
"Mornin'," Kyle greeted, without turning around. He reeled his fishing
pole in a little, then cast out further. "Sleep well?"
"Why did you cancel the repairs?" The Lady of the Mists demanded.
"Kris
informed me that the craftsmen have pulled us from the queue. Do you have
any idea how hard it is to get timely repairs on this island?"
Oh, good, Kyle thought. Business. "Simple. I don't like dead trees.
You hear that sound when you walk? That's the sound of a plant that was
never meant to be dropped in the ocean protesting its lot in life. Your
ship
doesn't need a few planks nailed over the holes, it needs some SERIOUS
modifications."
"Oh? Would you have us bolt steel over the holes, then?" the Lady
asked, the creak of her leather gloves sounding out as she crossed her arms.
"We'd sink like a rock. You must not know very much about the sea, Kyle."
"I know more about the sea than you can imagine," Kyle said, slowly
reeling on the line. "And you don't know enough about Lina Inverse. Your
toy boat is not going to cut the mustard in a brawl with the likes of her.
Remember last time? She humiliated you. What YOU need... is one of
THESE--"
Kyle got up, and braced one foot against a dock post. He hauled back
hard on the fishing pole, the line arcing perfectly...
...pulling up a fifty foot long black sea serpent with far too many
eyeballs and mouths. It roared, it thrashed, it reared back to swallow Kyle
and the Lady whole before Kyle pumped a handful of raw black magic into its
head and it flopped into the water deader than a doornail.
"..." Kris said, going white as a sheet.
"Getting lunch?" the Lady asked, completely unfazed by this.
"Getting your repairs done," Kyle said, hauling on the wire... which
somehow dragged the head of the beast onto the dock. "I take one of these,
and using my magic I spread its skin over your ship. Tougher than the best
steel you can imagine and completely sealed against Shamanistic magic. The
name of the game is SURVIVAL, Misty. The best offense is a good defense;
I've survived more fights just by being tougher rather than stronger. Plus,
I can get this done in an hour instead of the days those morons with the
wooden sticks wanted."
"So I'll have a ship coated in leathery black scales with eyeballs and
mouths?" the Lady asked.
"Nobody said survival was aesthetically pleasing," Kyle said, flaring a
sharpened edge of black water at the end of his fist. "But in no time, the
Highwater Serpent will go from being a rowboat in drydock to being the
Darkwater Serpent, beast of the waves and slayer of slayers. Stand back,
this is going to get messy. Wouldn't wanna stain your purdy white hair."
The slurpy, ugly noises of a Mazoku carving up a sea monster like a
holiday roast were loud enough to drown out the sound of Kris being quite
ill. She wiped her mouth, and tugged at the Lady's sleeve for attention.
"What is it, Kris?" the Lady asked, vaguely annoyed.
"I'm... gonna go back to the ship," Kris said. "This really smells,
ma'am. I don't feel very good..."
"I suppose if you're too weak to handle the sight," the Lady said. "Go
prepare the crew for launch. I'll stay and assist Kyle if need be."
Kristen didn't have to be told twice. She hurried away from the dock,
taking deep breaths... it wasn't just the slaughter of that monster. It was
the whole situation. She'd been kidnapped and the Lady thought little of it
when she explained things, since she was too distracted by her gleeful plans
of revenge... plans this Kyle person had laid out. Kyle, who didn't feel
right, who felt so very wrong to her...
Kyle, who had spent the night in the Lady's chambers. She turned red
at
the very thought, and hurried on to the ship, clearing her mind. She had to
support the Lady's quest. No matter how worried she was.
+-------------+
|P|A|R|T|O|N|E|
+-------------+
Two pieces down. One waiting to be collected. Two yet to be found.
Briefly, Lina wondered why it was that all the important things in the
world were carved into bits and hidden all over the place. It only made it
harder for adventurers who wanted to uncover mysteries of the past, since
odds are each one was in some new and dangerous location defended by
psychotic monsters hell-bent on killing innocent little treasure-seekers
such
as herself. Very inconsiderate of ancient societies to make their goodies
so
hard to find...
But given the power of the 'goodies' she was seeking, it made sense.
Just like the ancient dragons splitting up the demon king Shaburanigdo to
keep him from running amok, these map pieces were divided up to keep people
from doing nasty things with them.
From what she'd seen, they acted very much like a wish, a gift-bringer,
a plot device -- infinitely vague power that could do anything you can
imagine, just as the legends failed to say. Forget magic mirrors and
enchanted shoes and weird crystal orbs with limitations and specific uses,
this was the catch-all that covered everything other ancient mysteries
failed
to do--
The door to the galley resounded with a heavy knock. Not Zelgadis; his
hands weren't that loud anymore, and Amelia was the polite knocking sort,
and
Phinneas would just barge in and caw his head off...
"Whaddya need, Gourry?" Lina asked, without turning around in her
chair.
"I was going to get a snack," Gourry explained. "But if you're busy, I
can wait--"
"It's fine, it's fine," Lina said, leaning on her elbows, studying the
little bits of map. "Help yourself. Have Zelgadis and Phinneas plotted a
course yet?"
"They're still looking for a good island," Gourry explained, opening
the
pantry and fetching an apple from it... then pausing, when he finally looked
at Lina's face. "What's wrong?"
"Eh?" Lina asked, looking up. "What?"
"You've got that look on your face like something's really bad," Gourry
said, sitting across from her. "Something up?"
Lina contemplated that a moment, before shaking her head. "Nevermind,
Gourry. You wouldn't understand. It's technical, really, just the nature
of
this magic is really worrying. I don't get it at all."
"If you don't get it at all, you wouldn't know to be worried," Gourry
said, somehow managing to peel the apple using the Unequalizer in the small
galley without dismembering himself. "Obviously you get something about it.
And maybe I wouldn't understand the technical stuff, but... well, try me.
Make it simple. Maybe I can help."
Lina rolled her eyes. "Gourry, c'mon--"
"Really! Try me."
"...fine. Let's see if I can phrase this right. You know how when we
were first setting out, I explained that the Island of Mists had no defined
power? Nobody knew what it did, just that it was really amazing?"
"No, but go ahead," Gourry said.
"I figured the reason why nobody talked about what its power was is
because it could do anything," Lina said. "The first map piece says as
much.
Loosely translated, it reads 'The Island of Mists is of infinite wealth and
power and can even raise the dead, but...'"
"But...?"
"That's the worrying part. Not only do we have this psycho named
Mortimer hell-bent on stopping us, but the power of the map itself is damned
dangerous! Vincent only tapped it for business deals and the Christophers
sealed it away before doing anything... but I've fiddled with it, and
it's...
well. Here's a demonstration. See this piece I'm holding?"
"Yah."
"I really wish I had a slice of cheesecake right now," Lina said aloud.
"But we don't have any onboard. In a perfect world tailored to my every
desire, however, there'd be one in the cupboard right over your head.
...okay, open it up."
With a blank stare usually only seen on statues, Gourry's mind
struggled
with what Lina was trying to prove. Figuring seeing was believing, he got
up
and opened the cupboard. "I was just in there, Lina. I didn't see any--
hey! Check it out, cheesecake! It's even on a little fancy plate and has a
silver fork and... err. How'd this... whoa! Wait. I think I get it!"
"Exactly! You see?"
"You must have bought some while we were at the island!" Gourry said
proudly.
Lina wobbled like a wobbly thing. "GOURRY! I didn't buy any, that's
the point! It just.... wait. Gourry, do you REMEMBER me buying some?"
"Yeah," Gourry said. "You bought it... uh... well, I don't recall
exactly WHEN, but--"
"I remember buying it now too!" Lina exclaimed, her head starting to
hurt from the paradox. "Gourry, I never bought any cheesecake. I'm...
reasonably sure of that. It's the map doing this! It... it BENT the world
so that it was like I bought some. That's how the Mainevs always succeeded;
it adjusted reality to work in their favor. That's the power of the map --
it makes things the way you want them. No funny limits, no fancy rules,
just
a straight change according to whim. The ultimate magical treasure! Look,
look... the third piece explains it."
Gourry looked at the funny symbols on their most recent acquisition.
"Um... sparkly cloud thing, three arrows going left, a wavy line with a
triangle, a black dot with a line through it and diagonal wavy lines?"
"First one's imagination," Lina explained. "The second is willpower.
Both combined equal a sort of desire, a driving force that focuses thought.
That's the phenomenon that triggers the map. I had to WANT the cheesecake,
want it in my very heart and concentrate on that. The middle one is kind of
a sailor; the ancient elves didn't really have boats, they just carved
through the water with magic. The last two combined mean something like
'water flows through a hole'... I don't quite get those last three, but the
first ones are clear. If you've got strong desire you can do just about
anything with the power of the Island of Mists. Anything."
"Uhhh... that sounds really, really dangerous," Gourry said, sitting
back down. "I mean, what if someone touched the map and thought 'I really
wish I could meet Shabulkabingo'?"
"Shaburanigdo. And.. I don't know. I'm not exactly willing to
experiment and find out just how powerful it really is, you know?" Lina
said.
"Little things like cake are safe to test with but... I don't know, Gourry.
This is freaking me out. Remember when Zelgadis asked if we should even be
ON this quest? We all agreed we had to do it for his cure and Amelia's
family honor and my love of money and power, but... but... agh. If the map
is this powerful, won't the ISLAND be even worse? And only the map is
sealed
from access to Mazoku -- if the island is unlocked it could get very ugly."
"Good thing we don't have any Mazoku following us," Gourry said in
relief, completely oblivious to extremely important things. "Well, what do
you want to do, Lina? We could stop the quest. I mean... if you just want
money and power, we had plenty when you were hunting band--"
"No," Lina interrupted, standing up. "I'm not going back to that. We
might be in insane amounts of danger and facing rivals and enemies and
certain death, but... well... this is going to sound weird, but I've never
been happier... no, wait. That's crazy, isn't it? Why on earth would
anybody WANT to get into trouble?"
"I don't think it's crazy at all," Gourry said. "That's just who you
are... who I am, too. We go off and do crazy things all the time, or crazy
things find us. It's our life. I can't see you, like, settling down and
growing cabbage for a living or something--"
"But it's ridiculous!" Lina shouted, now at the arm-waving point of her
rant. "There's no logical reason to be risking my neck constantly! Nuts to
that. I know what I want in life; I've known since I was a little girl.
I've got very specific goals! I want to be rich and powerful and famous and
the greatest sorcerers in the world, with everybody trembling in fear-- err,
respect at my amazingness!"
"Hurrah!" Gourry cheered, snapping open a fan.
"This island could get me all of that," Lina said. "Everything I
desire
in one fell swoop! It's dangerous as hell, but I want what I came for. I'm
not turning back just because of risk. All we need to do is be real careful
to keep this under our hats... so nobody gets the Island who could cause
real
problems. We go in, get what we want, and seal it up on the way out. The
extent of power we're talking about has to be a secret among our little band
of maniacs alone. Understand?"
"I understand," Gourry agreed. "Sort of. More or less. I mean...
it's
risky, but you want to do it, and I want to support you. Simple enough,
right? You can count on my sword and my skill, if not my brains!"
Lina peered at him, curiously. "Well... your heart's in the right
place, at least. Okay. And grab me that cheesecake, I'm starving. You
want
me to wish you up a slice too?"
With a grin, Gourry bounced his apple from his elbow to his hand. "No
need for that. I'm happy with what I've got right here."
[*]
Back in Sailoon, she had a bed. It had four posts and a big canopy
over
it, and she was surrounded by the toys of her childhood and dressers full of
clothes and more... but all she did there now was sleep. Just as she could
do here in a hammock on the Lightfeather; where she slept didn't matter.
Amelia had adapted easily to road life, after finally leaving home to
seek adventure and justice. There were growing pains along the way that
travel with her friends helped her get over... she was almost to the point
of
resisting the urge to climb to a high place and recite a speech when her ire
was up. She'd gotten a lot better about just attacking the enemy instead of
wasting time, especially when she realized she could recite a speech about
justice over the smoking, twitching body of the enemy with far less
problems.
But she'd always been able to handle sleeping on the fly, wherever they
were,
inn room, tent, clearing, wherever.
It was in the bones, she supposed. Father sought adventure from time
to
time. Her sister definitely ran off early on, never to return, having
endless adventures, until... and mother also liked to go out and about when
she could, until...
The problem with thoughts like that while you're asleep is that they
tend to twist ordinary shapeless dreams up into nightmares. Nightmares
don't
have to be filled with spooky ghosts and shadows; nightmares can just be
something so completely normal yet so WRONG that you feel a fear deep
inside.
An inexplicable dread from something so unthreatening that the very fact it
made no sense only filled you with further dread...
Her horror came in the form of an inn. A nice evening, a nice inn. An
old clock ticking away the seconds on the wall. A meeting, as she pushed
her
way in the door (she could see herself doing these things, feeling them
through the dream, without being able to change the memory). To the cloaked
figure sitting at the agreed on booth--
Who turned out to be Mortimer. That broke her out of her locked path
of
memory immediately. Time to wake up, Amelia decided, putting all her focus
into realizing It's Only A Dream.
"Am.. el.. i.. a?" Mortimer asked, careful with each sound, as if
trying
to assure himself he could remember and say her name. "Hello. Why are you
trying to wake up? What's wrong?"
"I don't want to be here," Amelia said, surprised at the childish pitch
of her voice. She felt shorter. Was she younger in this dream? "I didn't
want to... to say..."
She was powerless to stop him. Mortimer stood, slow motion as he
raised
his staff... the hooked scythe blade snapping out of the handle, locking
into
position. Amelia couldn't close her eyes as he raised it high over her head
and...
Cut the dream away. It crumpled and floated away like a discarded
piece
of paper.
"That's better," he decided, the blade automatically folding back into
his staff. "Are you feeling better now? Can we... talk, talk about...
things... discuss. Can we discuss now?"
Amelia tried to take some steps back, instinctive in her fear. She was
adult now, at least as adult as she was in the waking world. "You're...
you're really in my dream? I'm not making this up?"
"You're far away right now," Mortimer explained. "I can't leave where
I
am, it'd be noticed. This is the only way I could talk. This is the only
way. I can't leave. It is good to see you again. How do you feel? Why
did
you run away? I brought your water. You took my golem's food. I don't
understand. Why did you run away?"
I can't wake up, Amelia realized. He's blocking me. She panicked,
briefly... but remembered his words, that he wouldn't hurt her, that he was
her 'protector'. He wouldn't do anything to her, even if she was
vulnerable,
right?
"I.. I didn't want you to hurt her," Amelia said, honestly. "And I was
scared. Mortimer, you scared me."
"I did?" Mortimer said, his elven ears raising in the slightest
possible
hint of surprise. He advanced on her, completely unaware of Amelia's rising
tension. "I didn't think I was scary. I'm the good guy. I'm defending the
island and I'm protecting you. I'm not a demon, I'm doing what's right.
Just like I was told to do when I took on the duty. Amelia... Lina got
another piece of the map. She shouldn't do that. You're going to make her
stop."
"I.. I..." Amelia began, paralyzed with fear. She swallowed hard...
and
made a decision.
He's bullying me, she thought. Maybe he doesn't realize it or he
thinks
it's good to do that but he's bullying me. He has me trapped here and I
don't want to BE here, and I don't want to play along with him. Her sister
had enough strength to put her foot down and decide her own path, and so
would she.
"I'm not going to stop her," Amelia said, voice cracking slightly. Not
the boldest response, but it was a start. "Because I don't want to. I want
to see the Island of Mists, Mortimer."
"Amelia--"
"You said you have a duty," she interrupted, not wanting to lose her
momentum. "Well, I have a duty too. In my family honor, in my sister's
name, I have to complete the quest she began. That's my duty and I'm just
as
serious about it as you are! And... and I know you want to stop us and I
can't convince you not to, but.. but that's what I have to do. What are you
going to do about it?"
This time, Mortimer was the one taking a step back. Despite his
threatening visage, he wasn't exactly a strong looking person, and meekness
bubbled up easily. "...I'm not going to do anything," he said quietly.
"You're Entrusted. I won't hurt you. And.. I was told not to interfere.
But if you succeed in opening the island I'm going to have to stop Lina. I
can't leave my duty. I'm sorry. Please, please, Amelia, just go home... I
can take you home. I can kill Lina and you don't have to feel bad because
you don't have to see it. I can't--"
"If you want to kill her... you have to kill me first," Amelia warned,
wishing she hadn't paused between the two concepts. "I want what she wants
and I'm going to.. I'm gonna fight you. In my sister's memory and in the
spirit of justice and honor, I'm going to find the Island of Mists!"
"But your sister is--"
"She means more to me than you can imagine," Amelia snapped, feeling
righteous. "Now get out of my dream! If... if you want to talk to me again
then you're going to stop talking about killing my friends and you're going
to stop scaring me!"
"I'M NOT TRYING TO SCARE YOU!!" Mortimer screamed, the blade snapping
out of his staff in reflex, carving the very air of her mind...
...which gave him pause, killing the tiny impulse of rage instantly.
He
looked up at the scythe, his mind slowly working something out. Amelia
started to sweat, or at least the concept of Amelia in the dream did. Her
determination was still there, but it was hiding at the moment after a bad
shock.
"...that was scary, wasn't it?" he realized. He spoke like a lost
child, much as Amelia was speaking in her earlier dream... afraid and alone.
"I think... yes, it was. I didn't mean to. I just... I don't know what to
do, Amelia. I've been at sea for a thousand years. I haven't... spoken...
words in very long. Nobody to talk to. Just the golems. I wasn't always
like this, like... not knowing what to... I wasn't. I was just doing my
duty, doing the right thing... I don't know how to talk to people anymore
and
I didn't mean to... I'm sorry. I should go. I'm sorry."
I should be overjoyed that he's leaving, Amelia thought. How come I'm
not? "Wait, wait," she insisted. "Look... you've been alone that long? No
friends? I can understand how you'd... lose touch, I guess. Listen, maybe
we could... talk it out? If you explained what your duty is, maybe we could
find a way for everybody to be happy?"
"I can't stay," Mortimer said, lowering his staff, and turning to go.
"I've taken too long. He'll notice I'm gone. I snuck out even though he
told me not to interfere. I have to go."
"Mortimer--"
"But I swear I won't kill you," Mortimer said, returning to his usual
even monotone. "No matter what happens, no matter what you do. You're... I
wouldn't kill you and I wouldn't kill your sister, either. I'll protect
you,
Amelia. Even if it means saving you from yourself. I swear."
Before she could say a word, she awoke in the lightly swinging hammock
beneath the decks of the Lightfeather. The conversation was now over.
[*]
Zelgadis traced the line along the map, careful not to press too hard.
It wouldn't do to leave a thick pencil trail on one of the ship's maps;
better to make one that could be erased once its usefulness was through.
The pencil felt quite odd to him. His skin was pressed against the
word, each individual grain and shaving clear to him... his senses working
overtime ever since regaining his human form. This first day after the
change was quite a marvel. He found himself in astonishment as he touched,
tasted, felt, smelled... even totally ordinary things became new
experiences.
It made his night with Al feel like a dream...
No no, focus. Things to do. He completed the line, and set the pencil
aside.
"As you see," he explained, "It's a straight line. A perfectly
straight
line. I checked Phinneas's books, and it seems a branch of the Sailoon
royal
family used to live on an island here... we picked up the Mainev map on Dark
Island here... and then we got the Christopher map on Bloody Dangerous
island
here. Connect the dots and it's a straight line. If we only had two
islands, I'd doubt it, but three in a row out in the open sea is a little
too
convenient to be coincidence. What's more, there's only two more islands
lying on that line."
"Two islands," Lina repeated, sitting at the table with Gourry, across
from Zel and Phinneas. "Two more map pieces. Good work, guys. This is
gonna take a lot of the guesswork out of our quest! Man, and I was worried
we'd be bumping into every island in the chain before we found them--"
"Don't know if ye can trust that," Phinneas mumbled. "Seems TOO
convenient. I mean... I thought quests had lots of challenges and dangers
and unknowns and so on? This feels too easy."
"Hey, who here is the expert on quests, you or me?" Lina asked.
"Hasn't
this quest been incredibly dangerous enough already? Besides, it does make
sense. There are always patterns when you're dealing with multiples in
quests. Symmetric shapes, geometric linkage, things like that. If you've
got five of something the SMART thing would be to scatter them randomly, but
for some reason, they always show up in a star shape or in a cluster like
the
constellation of the braying goat or something crazy--"
"Or like a jellyfish!" Gourry spoke up.
"......what?"
"You know, a jellyfish. Squishy thing with lots of tendrils and a
mushroom shaped head!"
"Gourry..." Lina said softly, trying to be patient. "What does that
have to do with ANYTHING?"
"Uh... you could arrange them like in the shape of a jellyfish. Err.
Well, no, since they're squishy and don't really have a solid shape, and...
I
think you'd need more than five to get a good outline... uh. I'm just
trying
to contribute, okay?"
"I hear you and appreciate your contribution to the thought process and
your timeshare towards our overall goal," Lina explained, "But quit being a
complete yogurt head, m'kay? Now. Phinneas, what's the next island we're
visiting?"
Phinneas hopped from his perch to the table, careful not to scrape up
the map with his claws. "That one," he said, gesturing with a wing.
"Clockwork Island's next on the line. Though if I were ye, I'd be skippin'
the place."
"Giant demonic monster with sixty eyes and a taste for human flesh?"
Lina wondered. In her line of work, that wasn't an outlandish guess.
"No, just this rich family. Couple and a kid, old money, their family
line probably goes back a thousand years. They live on this tiny island
with
in an impossibly tall clock tower, and, well... they're a bit eccentric."
"Eccentric?"
"That's rich human talk for 'kooky in the head,'" Phinneas explained.
"Know a few traders who stopped there for emergency supplies. Crazy family
treats them to incredible food and amazing hospitality--"
The future set itself in stone upon mention of the F-word.
"Food?" Lina spoke, perking up. "Did you say incredible food and
amazing hospitality?"
"Yeah, food, but--"
"Set course for Clockwork Island!" Lina demanded, posing with the
righteous fury of a young girl who hasn't had a good meal in hours. "Raise
the sails! Make haste! Chop chop!"
"Lina! He said 'but'!" Gourry reminded. "Come on, even I know that
'but' isn't a good thing to hear. Phinneas, what's the whole story here?"
"They're just freaking weird," Phinneas continued, shrugging his wings.
"Can't put a finger on it. Folks say they're weird. Creepy. Traders are
only too happy to leave in the mornin' after a night in Clockwork Island, no
matter how good the food-- oh, bother--"
"No matter what the risk, we must press on! Excellent food is what
drives mankind as a species!" Lina insisted. "When the first travelers
lashed some logs together and dropped them in the water, what was on their
minds?"
"Seeking out the unknown and finding what's on the horizon of their
lives?" Zelgadis suggested sarcastically, knowing this was a losing battle.
"No, they were HUNGRY! It should be obvious, Zel. And so in the proud
spirit of humanity, let's get some grub. Now set course! Onward towards
glory! Oh, and we'll look for a map piece, too."
[*]
The ship rocked gently, causing the tea in his dainty little cup to
slop
over the edge onto his nice clean gloves. Very unsettling. He willed his
glove to look clean again, and sipped.
A drop of blood then dripped through the deck planks above, also
landing
on his glove. Very unsettling. He willed his glove to look clean again,
and
refilled the teacup.
Xelloss had to admit, the ship was quite ship-shape. These wondrous
golems did a terrific job of keeping the Death's Door tidy, despite their
continual need to slaughter people and replenish their failing organic
forms.
Sitting here below decks, listening to them efficiently process some
merchant's ship they'd bumped into early today reminded him of why he SO
loved to be a Mazoku.
Of course, all was not perfect. Mortimer returned after 'checking up
on
matters above decks', and Xelloss immediately let him know his place.
"You were visiting the young princess in her dream," Xelloss said,
setting the delicate teacup down. "Don't lie, Mortimer. I am your friend,
of course; I forgive you. But I thought I told you not to interfere?"
Mortimer froze. "...I wasn't interfering..." he protested weakly. "I
just wanted to talk to her. That's not wrong. I can talk to people. I
haven't talked to people in so long--"
"We need to focus on what's truly important," Xelloss reminded. "The
goals. The duties. Your reason to exist. A thousand years ago the Dragons
told you to guard the Island of Mists, did they not? They gave you this
wonderful ship and your wonderful crew. They gave you everything you need
and in return you gave them your loyalty and pledge to fulfill your duty.
They did not tell you to flirt with humans."
"I wasn't--"
"Yes, you were," Xelloss chided. "You were flirting with the idea of
being friends with them. Didn't I tell you I was the only friend you
needed?
When you first took this job you were soooo lonely and sooo bored... and
then
I came and I explained I was your friend and I changed everything. I opened
your eyes!"
"...you left me for a thousand years."
"It's not my fault I got stuck behind the god-sealing shield," Xelloss
pouted. "Besides, my point is still valid. You don't NEED anybody else,
Mortimer. You are your duty. You are the obligation. Cold, like ice. The
hard reality of death. Death's Door. You've come so far in the time I was
away... realizing that everybody on the sea was a threat to the Island,
knowing you had to kill all who stand against goodness and righteousness.
I'm proud of you. You've become exactly what I wanted you to be--"
Mortimer slumped into his seat. "I scared her."
"Pardon?"
"I scared Amelia," he said. "I was just doing my duty but she was
scared. Why am I scaring people? I'm not a demon. I'm only dangerous to
people who are dangerous. What am I doing wrong?"
"Nothing, nothing," Xelloss soothed, pouring him a nice cup of tea.
"You're doing nothing wrong and everything right. You are the silent blade
that cuts down dangerous life, life that threatens all life. If you are
doing anything wrong... it's obsessing over this girl. She is nothing,
Mortimer. Just another threat to the island--"
The elf looked up sharply. "She is Entrusted."
Xelloss sighed. Getting the lad to work around the moral roadblocks in
his mind was a hard process... especially now that he was so delightfully
twisted and distorted. While he approved of being twisted in principle, it
made it hard to untangle the bits that had to be straight for Xelloss to
operate properly.
Something was going to have to be done, of course. He was quite
attached to Amelia, and that was hampering his role in the game. Perhaps
Amelia would have to be killed? It pained Xelloss to think of striking down
a former 'comrade', a member of Lina's wonderfully wacky little gang, but...
no, no. Too extreme. It might even turn Mortimer against him when his firm
grip was so tight on the young elf. No, there was an easier way to play
this
problem to his direct advantage...
The Mazoku sipped from his cup, ignoring the screams of the humans on
the decks above, and hummed happily. Even a thousand years couldn't put a
dent in his plans, not when he was determined to make his dream a reality.
"Mortimer... be patient," he said. "That's all I ask. Patience.
Trust
in me and everything will work out so beautifully. If you do what I say
when
I say it... then when all is said and done, you can have Amelia Wil Tesla
Sailoon. You want her, don't you? She can be yours to do with as you
please."
"...what?"
"Don't you like the idea? I concede this point; you seem to have
developed an attachment to her. Very well. I will help you get what you
want. I am your friend, and it's a promise," Xelloss said, holding up his
pinky. Yes, that was it. Let the boy entertain his fantasy; if it made him
docile, it couldn't hurt. It wasn't like it would matter once the dream was
over.
[*]
A serpent slithered across the waves of midnight. Black on black
beneath black, ship on water beneath the starry night. Perhaps it was just
the mood, the eerie silence of sails that no longer needed wind... but the
starlight seemed dim, now. The night felt dead.
Which would be highly creepy to the captain of the newly renamed
Darkwater Serpent, if she was the sort to be creeped out. No, she didn't
care that her boat looked QUITE different leaving the island than it was on
arrival; she was more concerned with the futility of her job.
Captaining this boat was different from captaining the Highwater
Serpent. For starters, it guided itself and needed no sail adjustments.
Kyle had fed the boat some ashes from Lina's burnt clothing (provided by
three rather burnt looking research wizards who wanted revenge) and the boat
handled the rest. It cut through waves like a wolf, sniffing out its prey.
Which meant the Lady of the Mists had nothing to do.
She still sat at the wheel, but sat there quite fidgety. It felt wrong
to leave the ship unattended, even if things were well in hand. She was the
CAPTAIN, and this was her ship, and she would take the wheel. Simple as
that.
"Ma'am?"
The Lady turned to regard her first mate. "Kris. Evening."
"Uh... Lady..." Kris started, not sure how to approach the topic.
"Listen, uh... I've been talking to the crew, and-- they're doing okay, I
mean, sort of sitting around playing cards and stuff, but..."
"Spit it out, Kris."
"They don't like the ship, ma'am. Not that it's ugly, but it's creepy.
I mean... Austin lost his hat, he set it in his hammock and Johnson swears
he
saw something reach through the porthole and eat it. And there's the way
the
dolphins that usually swim by the ship kinda... vanish. Things like that.
Crew morale isn't very high, that's what I'm saying. Um. Ma'am?"
"The crew can deal with it," the Lady said, quite uninterested. "This
new ship is going to get me what I want. If the crew is not happy, they may
disembark at the next island. ...I rather think I don't need them anymore.
Being a pirate is risky business anyway, if they're too concerned with
something silly like being eaten by their ship they shouldn't be here."
"But ma'am, it's YOUR crew--"
"If Kyle has taught me anything, it's that I can rely on myself," the
Lady said, looking directly at her first mate. "I've always felt I should
be
stronger, more self-sufficient. Now, I can be. I was kidding myself
thinking I should care about a group of men who I have no real attachment
to.
They're just workers, Kris. They can find work somewhere else. Did you
have
anything else to report?"
"No, but--"
"You may go," the Lady dismissed. "And send for Kyle, please. I wish
to discuss matters with him, and retire to my chambers shortly."
Kris stepped forward. "But.. Lady... Ma'am..." She hunted for a
better
way to address her, something that wasn't so cold and impersonal... but The
Lady had no name that would suffice. The only way to talk to her was
through
titles...
She hurried off below decks, before she could receive a stern look from
the captain. It was her captain's orders, and she had to follow them. She
still supported The Lady, even if she was... getting more distant. She
couldn't do anything except support her...
Kris froze in her tracks, when she came across Kyle, who was heading
above decks. Opposing directions.
And Kris's worries turned to steel. "The Lady of the Mists requests
your presence, Kyle," she said, a commanding order... as commanding as she
could get. As respectful to her friend as she could be, as disrespectful to
this man as she could be.
This didn't go unnoticed. "You don't like me, do you?" Kyle asked,
raising an eyebrow. "Call me crazy, but it seems clear..."
"No... I don't like you," Kris said. "I don't like what you're doing
to
her--"
"You'd rather I leave you and your ladyfriend alone, right?"
"...yes. Yes, I would."
"I figured as much," Kyle said, taking out a fresh cigarette. "You
know? I don't like you either. I don't like any of you people, to tell the
truth. It's nothing personal."
"No offense taken," Kris lied.
"But kid... I need the Lady and her ship to get what I want, with a
minimum of silly emotional ploys that waste my time," Kyle explained. "And
THAT means I need you to quit the jealous snit fit. You turn her against
me,
and guess what? I'll ensure you get an extended tour of the ocean floor.
She'll do just fine without you. I'm the only one who can get her what she
wants and provide what she needs. Now get out of my way."
Kyle brushed past her, his trenchcoat dragging slightly along the wall
as he ascended the stairs. Kris stood perfectly still... her steel melting,
trembling... and cracking. She ran, away from the idling crew, to the
safety
of her cabin. And cried.
+-------------+
|P|A|R|T|T|W|O|
+-------------+
Sea travel can be quite unsettling for land folk. When you're on land,
you can look down, look around, and say 'I am here, I am travelling in this
direction, I know what's going on.' On the open sea, you don't get that
luxury. It's horizon to horizon of beautiful rolling blue underneath a blue
sky; you could look out a porthole twice during the day and see the same
view, no matter where the ship actually is, no matter what time you look.
Without any landmarks, without anything to indicate where you are and
where you're going beyond the skills of the sailors, you're adrift in time.
Minutes, hours, days... it all flows together into a stream of similarity
punctuated only by meals and sleep.
This is why Lina was prowling the decks, absolutely restless. She'd
had
a nice night of sleep, she'd had... an acceptably nice breakfast, and now it
was time to play the waiting game. Zelgadis and Phinneas could handle the
boat; all she had to do was sit around as the hours ticked off. Not that
she
could even tell what hour it was; the sun was obscured by clouds, as if
taunting her, as if saying "HA! Screw you, little human! No time for you!".
There's a phrase which lends itself perfectly to problems like this.
"Are we there YET?!" Lina called out, waving to the bird behind the
wheel.
"Keep yer cape on!" Phinneas squawked back. "Should be there any
minute
now!"
"How can you tell?" Lina asked, sweeping an arm across the landscape.
"There's nothing out there other than lots and lots of water!"
"It's not all that difficult," Zelgadis explained, not looking up from
his navigational map. "You just sample the winds periodically, adjust
course, and compensate for--"
"Nevermind. I'm not that keen on the technical stuff," Lina said. She
turned to gaze across the endless seas, sneering at them in discontent. "I
just wanna GET there. I'm a passenger, not a pilot. I... ... hey!
There's... a tiny nearly invisible dot out there! That's gotta be it!"
"Unless it's pirates," Zelgadis warned.
Lina twisted a Levitation spell into existence, and bounded her way up
to the crow's nest. She was getting used to using the telescope up there,
and had it directed, focused and locked tight on target in no time at all.
"Little island with a huge tower... and a clock on top! That's it! Yahoo!
We're here, we're here, we're--"
"About ten minutes away, judging from the distance," Zelgadis said.
"Oh, fine, take all the excitement out of it," Lina said. "I guess
it's
hard to have a flashy dramatic approach when you can see it coming a miles
away. I'll sit up here and wait."
[*]
At two minutes, it went from being a nearly invisible dot to a very
visible dot.
Four minutes in and you could make out a building shaped like a
grandfather clock. Cute.
Six minutes, and that cute little clock was clearly very tall.
Eight minutes and it was EXTREMELY tall.
Ten, and they were there, and Lina had to look straight up to see the
face of the clock... and of course, it was totally unreadable from that
angle. It was quite possibly the sixth tallest building Lina had ever seen,
the third tallest one built by actual humans, and the stupidest looking
building design she'd ever witnessed. It was, to wit, a freakin' huge
clock.
No windows she could see, no signs that it was anything other than some
giant's toy that was accidentally dropped from the sky, taking root on a
sandy island barely large enough to support it.
There was, however, a small dock suitable for a few boats and a grand
set of oaken doors. The 'WELCOME' mat out front, was big enough to throw a
small party on. Lina scuffed her boots on it... it had no stains
whatsoever.
Either they didn't get many visitors, or someone shampooed the rug twice
daily to get rid of the bloodstains of dismembered guests, or both...
"Boy, this is really fluffy!" Amelia noted, bouncing up and down a
little. "Reminds me of the carpeting back at Sailoon Palace..."
"Fluffy or not, it's still a bunch of unnecessarily weird
architecture,"
Lina summarized. "Phin, you hit the nail on the head when you said they
were
'eccentric'. Hopefully they're as friendly as you say, because this looks
like the sort of place that'd be loaded with crazy deathtraps and entirely
too many drippy candleholders..."
"Ye bump into this sort of thing all the time as an adventuress, then?"
Phinneas asked from his perch on her shoulder, peering up at it.
"More than you can imagine. Okay, gang... it's nearly afternoon, which
means we can all look forward to an amazing lunch spread! And keep your
eyes
out for the map piece. Let's go! Gourry, you and Zel take the point so you
can get killed if a hideous monster jumps out the doors while Amelia and I
make it to safety and sail off."
"Okay!" Gourry chimed, cheerfully marching towards uncertain doom. Of
course, he did have the Unequalizer which made it a little more like certain
non-doom, but the spirit of the thing is what truly matters.
Zelgadis walked along next to him, unconcerned... until he realized he
didn't have his stone skin to back him up. His steps didn't falter... but
he
did shift his hand to the sword hilt, just in case--
And drew it in a swift motion when the wooden gateway snapped open
faster than anything that heavy possibly should have.
A hideous monster in the form of a kindly old butler in a tuxedo
strolled out to greet them, all smiles and jolly good cheer.
"Hello, hello!" the butler greeted, ignoring the swords pointed in his
direction. "I am Jeeves, and welcome to Clocktower Island. You are
welcome,
and we hope your stay will make you happy. May I ask who has docked at our
island?"
"That's more like it," Lina said, stepping forward, motioning for the
boys to put their cutlery away. "I'm Lina Inverse, and they're Gourry,
Zelgadis, and Amelia. The little bluebird on my shoulder is Phinneas."
"Harumph," Phinneas grumped.
"We are here to eat! And to talk to the sir or madam of the house,
whichever the case may be," she continued. "I understand your hospitality
is
exquisite, sir, and that's the sort of word starting with 'ex' I can approve
of! Am I right?"
"Why, yes, you are!" Jeeves said, clapping lightly for her. "We are
only happy to provide you with food and lodgings for the night. All are
welcome at Clocktower Island! Please, walk this way."
Jeeves turned on a heel, and stepped his way into the dark depths of
the
clocktower base. He had a queer way of walking, taking small steps that
made
no noise whatsoever, but so many of them at high speed that it was like an
average stride. Must be part of buttling, Lina thought...
The internal hallway was poorly lit; a side effect of relying on drippy
candleholders, just as she had expected. The light from the doorway was
silenced as the doors snapped shut just as fast as they had opened...
closing
without a sound. But aside from the ominous entrance and illumination,
there
was nothing scary about the hallway.
It felt like any other upper-middle class home, really. There was the
odd table with some potted flowers, a coatrack or two by the door, and
plenty
of ordinary white wooden doors into side rooms. The walls were painted a
refreshing sky blue, and had tasteful paneling work rather than cracked and
misshapen grey bricks like you'd find in your average freakjob gothic
castle.
On these walls were hung family portraits. Lina hadn't even met the
family and she already felt like she knew them... the father figure, stately
and proud merchant class, looking quite healthy with his respectable
haircut.
He had a pipe in every shot, and lips wrapped in a smile around the stem.
The mother wore modest yet expensive dresses, and always had a pearl
necklace
on.. she seemed to wave or pose adorably in just about every picture.
Finally, there was the kid... there were more pictures of him than of
the parents. An only child and likely spoiled rotten, although he seemed
friendly enough in the pictures... always smiling, always happy. Filled
with
youthful glee.
"They must be a very loving family," Amelia commented. "We have some
portraits like this back at home... there's a very nice old one of me, my
sister and my parents in the great hall. Although we never had THIS many
paintings."
"My folks didn't go for portraits," Lina commented. "They went for
mirrors instead. Not as flattering to the ego, but a bit more realistic
than
a thick candy gloss over the past."
Gourry blinked. "Wow, that was almost poetic!"
"Why, thank you," Lina grinned, almost blushing.
Zelgadis peered at her. "Right. No ego flattery needed here, no."
They walked quietly for awhile; the hall seemed to stretch on forever,
candles not helping to locate the end of the line. Lina had no clue what
all
these rooms would be useful for, and Jeeves wasn't giving answers; he
buttled
them on down the hall, towards some unknown destination.
Zelgadis slowed his pace so he could walk aside Lina, as he lowered his
voice. "Lina... you know what they say, there's no such thing as a free
lunch. This may look normal inside, but weren't you just saying you thought
the building was strange? Why are you so accepting of this man's words?"
"Because I'm hungry," Lina replied.
"Lina..."
"I know, Zel. Don't worry, I'm being serious here," Lina said. "I
want
a good meal, but I know this could get ugly. But for now, just go with it
and enjoy, ne? Nothing else we can do, and it'd be impolite to get
defensive
and suspicious this early... but I'll still be on my toes, and I suggest the
same for everyone else."
"I never got that phrase," Phinneas commented, shaking his feathers a
little, peering at the portraits along the endless hallway. "Bein' on yer
toes. Never had a problem bein' on my talons in all my years, no matter
what
I'm perchin' on. Shoulder, branch, wheel, whatever. Maybe it's just yer
crappy sense of human balance, it--"
--a corncob pipe--
"Wha?" Phinneas said, turning his head sharply at a portrait they
passed.
"Wha wha?" Lina asked.
"Back there, that picture!"
Lina glanced back. "It's the father with one of those fancy curvy
pipes, yeah. Just like the last ten pictures of him we passed. So?"
"...I could swear that's not what the pipe looked like before,"
Phinneas
muttered. "Guess I'm seein' things now. Great."
"That's two, then."
"Two what?"
"Two points."
"Two points of what?"
"Two points of weird," Lina said. She kept her voice down a bit. "One
for the building overall and one for what you saw. Want to know a secret to
being a successful adventuress, Phinny? I keep a running tally of weird in
any new situation. Each weird little thing, no matter how trivial, counts
as
one point. Adventurers who go 'Oh, I was just seeing things' and dismiss
tend to have short lifespans. Smart adventurers know the rule of hand; if
you can count the number weird things you've seen on one hand... well..."
"Yeah?"
"I hope we get fed before I hit five points, is all," Lina mumbled.
Looking up to check the progress of the Long March, she called out to
Jeeves.
"Oi, butler! Are we there yet?"
"Sir and madam are currently in the parlor," Jeeves replied. "At the
top of the clock tower. Don't worry, we have a weight and pulley platform
to
raise us there. No tedious staircases, they make little sir unhappy."
"They make little Lina unhappy, too," Lina smirked. "I don't mind
riding in style... so the parlor's up there? What're all these other rooms,
then..?"
The endless white doors became endless white doors and one black door
sticking out like a sore thumb. Curious, Lina placed her hand on the
doorknob and turned--
Jeeves's hand covered hers quickly, holding it in place. Somehow, Lina
missed how he got from leading the pack to where he was now...
"Please, miss, it's unimportant," he said quickly. "There's nothing
pleasant in there. Come along, the staircase is just ahead."
"...right," Lina said. "Lead on."
And that's three, she thought.
[*]
The elevator was almost a room by itself; the moving floor was as large
as the welcome mat outside. The walls of the elevator shaft were also
decorated with portraits... moments in life. Family picnics, family
dinners,
family laughter... birthdays, anniversaries, everything. Briefly, Lina
wondered who could've sat down and painted all these pictures without dying
of exhaustion... but decided not to give it a point towards the five. Rich
people could toss enough money at anything they wanted.
In keeping with the theme of 'Small, middle, large' the small hallway
which led to the middle-sized elevator finally arrived at a LARGE parlor.
If
Lina thought the other rooms were coated in paintings, this one must've
bankrupted an entire island of pigments and dyes.
There was a sort of cheerful starry wallpaper... SOMEWHERE underneath
all the portraits. Large area didn't have paintings, it's true, but instead
they had great roaring fireplaces of impressive stone and brick. The fires
kept the room warm and cozy -- almost womblike, if Lina remembered the womb.
(Odds are she was too impatient to notice that part of her young life;
ignoring the womb en route to getting out and getting her first meal.)
Above the largest fireplace hung an old clock. 11:59, Lina noted.
Lunchtime. She looked down from the clock, to the family that owned it.
It was a scene that lived up to her expectations in full. The father,
sitting in a wingback chair... his red velvet robes, feet propped on a
cushion, reading a good book and smoking his pipe. The mother in another
chair, knitting a sweater. The kid, playing with some building blocks from
a
sizeable toybox... a scene right out of a portrait. He perked up on hearing
the elevator arrive, the wooden grate sliding open swiftly, the first one of
the three to react to their arrival.
Jeeves stepped off the elevator, and bowed to the family. "Sir, madam,
the guests have arrived. Lina, Gourry, Zelgadis, Amelia, and Phinneas."
The father took out his pipe, and rose to greet the group. "Welcome,
welcome!" he roared in a manly voice, while passing around handshakes like
they were going out of style. "Welcome to Clocktower Island. We're always
happy to receive guests! Sit down, make yourselves at home."
Lina glanced around for seating... and of course, there was a couch
available. A mini-conversation pit. Maybe she hadn't noticed it before,
maybe it spontaneously appeared on demand like some creepy magic, but the
doubt didn't lead to another point. The group wandered in, taking in the
sights, as Lina sat down.
"Nice place," Lina said, getting down to the interrogation. "Very
roomy
rooms. You four live here alone?"
"We're always happy to have new friends visit," the mother chirped, in
a
perky little voice that just made you want to hit her. Click click click,
went the knitting needles and ding! went a bell. "Oh! The food is done.
Please excuse me while I prepare to serve. Jeeves, come with me."
"Pretty open to strangers," Lina commented, following the woman with
her
eyes as she exited through a pair of double doors. "How do you know we're
not here to trash the place, steal everything valuable and burn it down to
the ground?"
The boy's building blocks clattered to the floor, as he stared at Lina
in shock.
"Lina!" Amelia chided, kneeling down to help the boy pick up his
blocks.
"That wasn't very nice."
"...it's alright, it's alright," the father said. "I'm sure she was
joking, yes? Ha ha! A very funny joke, miss. I've always said a good
sense
of humor helps you lead a happy life."
"Yes, Lina was joking," Amelia agreed, eyeing her sharply, and glancing
at the kid. She wasn't the expert in body language Zelgadis was, but 'Don't
scare him' was fairly obvious. She smiled at the boy. "Ne, these are very
nice blocks! Did your father make them?"
The boy smiled, hostile situation nicely diffused. "Yeah! Just like
his daddy's daddy's daddy's daddy's.. uh... really long ago made our house.
He can make anything! He made all my toys!"
"I earn a modest trade as a crafstman, yes," the father said, smiling
to
his son. "It's a living, and helps me provide for my family."
"A good father always does right by his family, and in the spirit of
togetherness and love they will then prosper in happiness!" Amelia preached,
with such sweetness that it made Lina's teeth hurt. The young princess
rooted around in the toybox, looking for some more blocks to help the boy
play. "Ne, what's your name?"
"Timmy," Timmy spoke.
"Well, let's see if we can make you a clock out of these blocks! Tee
hee, that rhymed!"
"I'm gonna be ill," Lina mumbled. Her family was never this sickly
cute, was it? ...well, no. Mostly sister was off at a part time job and
father and mother were busy being busy. She'd study magic, or when bored,
play with her dolls, like...
Like that one. Amelia peered at it curiously. "Ano, you have a Lady
Justice dressup doll, Timmy?"
"I guess," Timmy said, ignoring it as he stacked his blocks. "Ne, help
me make a clock!"
"I had one of these as a kid," Amelia said, smiling. "I'd perch it on
a
banister at the stairs, and give speeches! ...except it never had very good
balance because of the little feet, see, and kept falling over--"
"I want to make a clock!" Timmy shouted.
Ah, there's the awkward pause, Lina thought. And Amelia apologizing
without knowing what led to the outburst, and they played with the blocks
and
Gourry chatted man-stuff with the father while Zel inspected the fireplace
and so on.
That's four points, Lina thought. Lady Justice was a pretty commonly
found doll... ten years ago or so. For little girls. Plus, you could buy
her in any toy store -- and Timmy said his father had made all his toys.
Weird, weird, weird...
Minutes later, much to her delight, the food was ready and she hadn't
hit five. Maybe she could get a full stomach out of this after all.
She didn't notice that the clock was still 11:59 when the doors shut
and
the meal began.
[*]
It was enough to make her forget the weird, and turn on the droll full
force. This was not a meal. This was not a banquet. This was what could
only be called a CORNUCOPIA.
Fine cuts of every kind of meat Lina could imagine, including a few
rare
ones -- even dragon cuisine! A pyramid of fruits from every corner of the
world as a centerpiece. Sauces. Wines. Side dishes of steamed vegetables
and soups so succulent that the animals who gave their lives to make it
would
have wept in joy to know their fate.
There was some silly birthday cake thing in her past, she vaguely
recalled, but this topped it by an order of magnitude. It was just that
damn
good.
Amazingly, Jeeves had managed to lay out all the foot to fit the dining
room table, despite it not being the obscenely large size usually seen in
palaces. That was a logistics feat beyond compare.
Lina took her chair and immediately began picking out a variety of
foodstuffs which would make up her first course of seventy four. She didn't
care at this point how weird things got as long as she could eat while
dealing with the weirdness.
The others in the group did the same; even the normally reserved
Zelgadis was quietly but efficiently loading up his plate with vittles and
home fixin's. Gourry had already started eating, forgoing the diplomacy of
getting the food on your plate before you jam it down your throat.
Of course, there is an exception to every rule.
"This is fine with me," Phinneas explained, pecking off bits from an
unbuttered dinner roll. "I already had some of Amelia's fine cookin' back
on
the ship this morning, I'm set."
"You're really missing out, Phinneas," Lina warned, as she put the
second course on top of the first one. Good food must be savored; she
hadn't
taken a bite yet, waiting until she had the PERFECT plate.
"And ye're really gettin' excessive, aren't you?" the parrot asked. He
gulped down the last of the roll, and perched on Lina's head just to annoy
her. "How long are ye plannin' to stay here, years?"
The father laughed, taking out his pipe long enough to speak. "Sir, I
think you'll find that time passes quite quickly when you're having fun.
Please, eat all you like!"
"What I'd LIKE is to get back to the ship soon," Phinneas replied.
"Yer
up to three or four points, aren't ye, Lina? I'd say that percentage is
worry enough, even if it hasn't hit yer limit--"
"Points?" the father asked. "Excuse me?"
"Hey, hey. I am NOT leaving without my food," Lina warned the bird.
"We don't have to stay the night, but jeez Phinneas, get off my back about
the meal. We'll finish when we finish, get what we came for and split. No
problem! Hey, mister? Might as well ask you now. Do you happen to have a
strip of old paper... about yea big and yea wide... with five symbols on
it?"
The other shoe fell.
"Excuse me?" the father asked, voice lowering. "A paper with five
symbols?"
"We're on this quest for it," Gourry explained, wanting to help. He
glanced out the window behind him, as he stirred his soup with a spoon.
"It's really important and stuff, and we think your family might have it.
Ne, Lina? ...ano? Is it dark already? Zelgadis, what time is it?"
"Eleven fifty nine," Zel said, pointing to a wall clock. "Should be
noon."
"Looks like midnight outside," Gourry commented. "Weird."
Weird. Five points, Lina thought, with dread. Here it comes...
"I'm sorry, but it's time for you to leave," the father spoke, rising
from his chair.
"What?" Lina said, the first forkful of her tasty chow inches from her
lips and a sinking feeling hitting her stomach "Hey, whoa, hold on there.
We just--"
With a soft swoosh, bellrope dropped from the ceiling, and the head of
the family gave it a sharp pull.
[*]
If you pour water into a wash basin, the impact of the pouring causes
waves. Ripples, spreading outward from the center. Eventually these
ripples
slow and stop, making a perfect flat surface between water and air.
The ocean is like a wash basin which can never flatten out. Ships,
currents, the shifting of land masses... every little motion spreads a
ripple, and those ripples lead to the eternal chaos of the waves. It's the
kind of chaos that's as unending as time itself, and every drop in the
bucket
keeps it rolling.
When a odd wooden chute opened on the side of the clocktower, dumping
four adventurers and one parrot (plus four very tasteful dining room chairs)
into the ocean near the docks, the overall chaos of the sea increased ever
so
slightly.
Lina surfaced, gasping for air. It took a moment for her to adjust to
the brightness of day; the clouds from before had parted, the noonday sun
glaring down on her as if to say "HA! Stupid little human! No food for you!"
"And I thought things were going so well," Zelgadis spoke dryly,
despite
being all wet. He bobbed in dejection. "I think we've seen the last of
kindly people handing over their map pieces, Lina. These folks seem intent
on hanging onto theirs."
"...my meal..." Lina spoke, still in shock.
"I wasn't seeing things, right?" Gourry asked, grabbing a support post
to the dock and hauling himself up with one smooth motion. "It WAS midnight
up there. And it's day out here..."
Phinneas perched on the support post, totally dry; he had taken to the
air the moment they came out of the chute. "Wise woman once said when ye
think ye're seein' things, ye ain't," he recounted. "So what're ye
adventurin' types gonna do now?"
"...my MEAL..." Lina growled... now glowing an evil red. She Levitated
from the water to the dock, and clenched a fist. "It's not enough to kick
us
out of the house and deny us our treasure... they did it BEFORE I GOT A
CHANCE TO EAT ANYTHING!! ...darkness beyond twilight, crimson like blood
that flows--"
"Easy, easy!" Gourry begged. "Don't kill them!"
"Not to mention blast the map piece so far out to sea that we never
find
it again," Zelgadis added. "The paper may be indestructible, but let's not
have to dig TWO pieces off the ocean floor when all is said and done."
"...fine! We do it the old fashioned way," Lina said, her rage barely
subsiding. "Blow open the doors and storm the castle! FIREBALL!"
A white-hot ball of angry flames screamed through the damp sea air. It
twirled en route to its destination... the wooden doors, the welcome mat.
The docks rocked with an explosion, waves nearly washing them off the
pier...
fire blasting the doors to matchsticks, scorching the mat until it simply
read "WELC".
...and then the doors MELTED back into place, as if time was reversing
itself. The matchsticks floated back into place and reformed themselves,
until the oaken door stood proud and ready again, the mat welcoming them to
a
place they were unwelcome.
"Interesting," Zelgadis said. "I would say they are definitely using
their map piece. This building is a construct of the map piece, and adapts
itself freely on command."
"Whoa," Gourry intoned.
"So it means we have to be SMARTER about doing things," Lina said.
"Amelia, you hold the door open with a Windy Shield after I blast it. Then
everybody inside as fast as you can! It'll seal itself once she takes the
shield down. Ready?"
"Ready!" Amelia echoed, posing.
Phinneas flapped the short distance from the dock to the Lightfeather.
"Nuts to ye guys, I'm stayin' behind," he warned. "I'm no adventurer. Try
to come out alive! I need my crew!"
"Gee, didn't know you cared," Lina joked. "FIREBALL!"
Some swift magical maneuverings later, and the crew was indoors. The
door healed itself again... leaving Phinneas alone on his ship.
Feh. Risk takers, the whole lot of them, he thought. He flew to his
captain's wheel and perched on it to wait. His FIRST crew wasn't that
dangerous...
His first captain wasn't dangerous at all. A kindly old man, he
recalled. A corncob pipe, a big hat, the whole package. He wouldn't harm a
fly, and treated his 'mascot' with some respect. Now, THAT was a crew.
Naturally, fate being a bastard, he lost his crew to Death's Door.
And now his new crew might not be coming back out.
He found himself wishing for their return. It was only after that wish
that he added the internal justification that he simply needed people to
pull
the ropes and make the food.
[*]
The house was different.
Exactly HOW it was different was hard to put your finger on. It had
everything Lina remembered... walls coated in portraits, tasteful flower
arrangements, and endless doors. But something felt wrong. Maybe the
hallway was slightly skewed, or twisted as it grew into the dark and dismal
distance. Maybe the portraits seemed to watch them, or the flowers weren't
smelling as fresh... standard haunted house goodies, nothing she wasn't
expecting.
"You get the feeling we're not welcome anymore?" Zelgadis said, feeling
the same vibe Lina was. He slowly drew his sword, ready for anything. "I
doubt they're going to lower the elevator for us to ride calmly back up,
either. We'll need to find a staircase."
"I don't think they have one," Gourry said. "Jeeves said that the kid
didn't like--"
And Jeeves stepped into view from thin shadow. He was not smiling.
"You are not welcome anymore," he spoke gravely, echoing Zelgadis's
words perfectly. "Please leave. You are making little sir and sir and
ma'am
very unhappy. I will open the door for you and you will leave."
Lina brushed up an imaginary sleeve. "Look, pal, your 'sir' just
dumped
us down a six zillion foot shaft and into the sea! He's lucky I don't jam a
Flare Arrow so far up his ass that his damn pipe REALLY smokes! Now step
aside, we've got business to--"
"Lina!" Amelia interrupted, stepping in front of her. "Look, there's
no
need for violence! They're just scared of us when they have no reason to
be.
We're all adults here. We can reason with them and talk this out, in the
spirit of love and--"
"OOOAOGHGHAAAA!" Jeeves howled, having grown three extra heads and arms
with razor sharp claws on them that could level a forest in a matter of
seconds if the acidic puss seeping out of his eyeballs didn't burn it all
first.
"KYAA!" Amelia shrieked. "FIREBALL!"
The butler exploded on impact, soaking down the hallway in black goop.
Everybody got quiet.
Lina wiped some of the stuff from her eyes. "Amelia-chan? What
happened to the spirit of love and justice a moment ago, and why did it ruin
my best cape?"
"Uh... I got scared," Amelia mumbled, poking her fingers together.
"Sorry."
"At least this proves a theory I was entertaining," Zelgadis said,
trying to ignore the icky feeling of the butler's remains all over his skin
and the slight urge to give Amelia a spanking. "I know where the map piece
is."
"You do?" Lina asked. (Well, SOMEONE had to ask it. Certain
statements
need a blatantly obvious follow-up question, that's the way of things.)
"It's upstairs in the master of the house's possession," Zelgadis said.
"He's in direct contact with the paper. That's how this house is warping
and
changing itself to his whim, to kick us out, lock us out and even provide a
butler who probably never existed to begin with -- which could easily turn
into a monster to stop us."
"I was wondering when we'd meet someone actively using the power of the
map like this," Lina groaned. "Terrific. And I left our pieces back on the
ship, so we can't even combat them. I guess we could go outside..."
She turned to take a step back towards the doors, and whirling curved
blades snarled out of the walls, neatly slicing the air an inch away from
her
foot into seven equal pieces.
"Or maybe we should just handle the situation ourselves," Lina added,
stepping back. "Strategy time, guys. We're up against a foe with strong
control over our environment and we've got to find a way to reach him.
What's the plan?"
"I know!" Gourry called out, bopping his fist into his hand. "Let's
split up!"
"...Gourry?"
"Yeah, Lina?"
"You know those campfire stories which begin 'A group of teenagers
walked into the spooky mansion' and in the middle there's a 'then they split
up' and then always ends with 'their bodies were never found'?"
"Uh... what about them?"
"Don't you think they could have avoided that ending if they didn't
SPLIT UP?" Lina exclaimed, pointing out the obvious. "You'd have to be a
total jellyfish-for-brains to think splitting up so they can hunt you down
and kill you easier is a good plan! What we need to do is stay together,
get
our heads out of the clouds and keep our feet on the--"
A trapdoor opened neatly under Lina. In accordance with the laws of
ironic physics, she hung in the air for the split second she needed to
realize she was about to drop, and then did exactly that.
"LINA!" Gourry shouted, diving to her aid... or rather, diving
headfirst
into the trap door. It swung shut and locked after the swordsman was done
plunging towards his fate.
Zelgadis allowed this to sink in a moment. "...it seems we've decided
to split up," he decided. "Let's see if we can find some way upstairs,
Amelia."
[*]
All was gloomy and dark in the captain's quarters. It was a bright and
sunny day outside, of course, but on the inside there was nothing worth
feeling bright and sunny over.
Phinneas had tipped a bottle of whiskey into his empty water dish. He
didn't indulge very often in spirits, but the spirits of his past were
egging
him on. He wobbled a bit on his perch, before continuing a loud and long
drinking song that he was making up on the fly. On the fly. A pun, he
thought bitterly.
His first captain was a terrific guy. He didn't think much about the
old man anymore... pondering the captain led to pondering his nasty demise.
The demise of the whole crew. It wasn't so bad being the mascot, he
pondered. They didn't treat him badly. He wasn't an independent spirit
today because he was bitter at the nasty abusive humans... he was a loner by
choice. So he wouldn't have to get burned again.
It was something he recognized in himself, of course. Not very often,
mind you, but at the lowest of the low it was plain as day. Who needs a
crew? All they do is pull the ropes and make the food. If you can have
interchangeable parts and cold machines and an inanimate ship, then you
don't
have to care about anybody. Perfect solitude. No chance of being hurt when
something happens to someone you care about...
And he DID care about his crew. Great guys, all of them. They
deserved
better than to be slaughter by that... that monster. Now that monster was
back, and was chasing his new crew.
Normally, he'd only care about saving his tailfeathers. Now he had to
face the fact that he worried about Lina and her running buddies, and
chastise himself for giving a damn, and drink to forget that he needed
anything in life...
Whirling, confused thoughts in a little mind that wasn't designed for
them. The gift of a human heart and a human mind can be as much of a curse
as a blessing. He slugged back some more whiskey, stared at the yellowed
and
fading group picture of his original crew, and continued to parrot his
little
song.
As he stared across the waves, all he could see was the distance. Not
the destinations, the trades to make, the money to hoard, the business to
conduct. Just great distance to cross, and a need for someone to cross it
with...
And a big scary looking ship that had more eyeballs than a ship
technically should have (IE, more than zero) docking right next to his boat.
That was a sight that could sober up any living creature better than a
barrel full of black coffee. Phinneas flew down below a table, getting out
of sight... and hoping that not only his crew would survive the day, but
that
HE would as well. Time would tell.
+-----------------+
|P|A|R|T|T|H|R|E|E|
+-----------------+
Lina hit bottom on her bottom. She winced in pain, rubbing her sore
tush. Why couldn't she be like a cat, and always land on her feet?
Although
falling from that height, odds are landing on your feet would just break
your
legs, which would be worse...
Although possibly not as bad as having Gourry and his three hundred
pound sword fall on you a moment later. He shook his head to clear it,
wondering why Lina's limbs were waving around madly just at the edge of his
vision, and got the answer in the form of a submission chokehold when he got
up.
"You IDIOT! You almost killed me!!" Lina accused, while doing a great
job of strangling him.
"Gaah," Gourry wheezed... and his eyes focused. "Lina, stairs!"
"Eh?" Lina asked, easing up on the grappling maneuver. She looked
up...
And now her eyes began to hurt. Staircases, yes... hundreds of them.
Going up, going down, going sideways, warping, twisting, MOVING on their own
power and all leading to hundreds of white wooden doors... it was like one
of
those crazy paintings done by mad artists with only one ear or no nose or
something.
Lina got off of her partner, and considered the white and black tiled
landing they had landed on, and all the staircases leading away from it. "A
stair maze. Great. I'm really starting to hate this place, Gourry. But at
least he can't kill us."
"He can't?"
"If he could have, we'd have been dead already," Lina explained.
"Instead he had to sic a butler-monster on us and use tricks and traps. I
think we're... COMPARATIVELY safe for now. Question is, which one of these
staircases leads back up to where Zelgadis and Amelia are?"
"I know!" Gourry said. "We can split up and--"
"Gourry!"
"--right, sorry," he apologized. "Forgot."
"I guess there's no way to pick the right one, so we'll just have to
check them at random," Lina suggested, studying the problem before her.
"We'll just have to-- hey!"
She shook her hand a bit, only to find that Gourry was expertly tying
her wrist to his own with a length of rope. (All good adventurers have a
length of rope and a book of matches. It's part of the starter kit.)
"There," he said, finishing a complex knot. "Now we won't get
separated
again, no matter what! Just hold onto my hand and we'll go."
"...that's.. that's almost brilliant, Gourry," Lina complimented..
blushing a little. "Smart thinking for a change. Okay... pick one. Let's
see if you've got enough dumb luck to get us where we need to be!"
[*]
The oaken doors of Clocktower Island are warm and welcome to all
travelers who do not upset the family within. They sit calmly embedded in
the stone wall, and open on command of the butler, and rarely are frozen
solid with a Demona Crystal spell and then shattered with a sharp blow by a
Mazoku general. Today was the exception to the rule.
Kyle stepped in carefully, to avoid the jagged remains of the door. He
promptly lit a cigarette, since he hadn't had one in minutes. "Cute place,"
he commented, glancing at all the shiny happy people in he portraits. "I
don't get why people like looking at themselves so much."
A brief wind spell knocked the ice shards away, allowing The Lady of
the
Mists to stroll her stylish self into the castle without ungainly footing.
Kris followed shortly after... clinging to the Lady like glue, and not happy
to be here.
"That is Lina's ship outside, so she must be here," the Lady said.
"The
Darkwater Serpent has proven its skills at the hunt. My compliments to you,
Kyle. Now can your powers track down my prey inside this strange
structure?"
"No, not really," Kyle answered, grinding out his cigarette in the
nearby painted face of the happy father. "We do it the old fashioned way,
door to door. If we're lucky, Lina got a lead on a map piece and we can
claim that too. Easy as pie."
The Lady nodded in agreement... and glared down at the smaller woman
following her around. "Get back to the ship, Kris. You'll only slow us
down."
"I-I'm not leaving your side," Kris decided. "I told you that. I
won't
be a burden, I swear. I can help! If we split up, we can search the place
more--"
"Obviously, someone hasn't heard many campfire stories," the Lady
mocked. "Every story with 'they split up' in the middle ends with... Kris,
what are you doing?"
"Checking a door?" Kris replied, knob halfway turned. "It can go
faster
if we--"
The knob turned itself the rest of the way.
Wind whirled through the hallway, sucking through the black void in the
doorway. It swung inward sharply, pulling Kris with it -- she yelped in
surprise, right before the door slammed shut after her. And all was quiet
again.
"...KRIS!" the Lady shouted, surprise stalling her a moment, a moment
too long. She grasped for the knob, heedless of any danger, and opened the
door--
To a disused broom closet. A mop handle slid down the wall in response
to the thunderous force the door opened with.
"What the-- KRIS! Where did she go?!" the Lady demanded, shoving the
mop aside, kicking a bucket. "Kyle, explain this!"
"Explain what?" Kyle asked, not the least bit rushed. "You've know as
much as I do. Notably that splitting up's a bad idea, apparently. Win
some,
lose some."
"Lose some...?" the Lady repeated, stunned. Her gaping mouth twisted
into a snarl, as she grabbed for Kyle's collar. "You're the mysteriously
powerful one. I demand you find a way to get her back, IMMEDIATELY--"
Shadows laced through her fingers, as Kyle blurred to a point one foot
away from her. He adjusted his trenchcoat... clearly annoyed. "Cut the
drama, Lady. You need to face reality here," he accused. "In reality, bad
things happen when you least expect it. You are overreacting and letting
your emotions cloud your judgement. In a house which apparently can eat
people you want to go off half cocked to try to find where your subordinate
went. What did I tell you about your crew?"
"...that I don't need them. But--"
"Exactly. You're an island onto yourself; you need nothing other than
your own desire, your own will. If you latch too hard to other people you
get pulled apart when they go away," Kyle lectured. "Now. Maybe we'll find
her, maybe we won't. But we'll find certain doom if we run off half cocked
like you are now. I need you calm and cool for this search. Can you do
that, or do I ditch you now and find what I want myself?"
Leather creaked, as the Lady clenched a fist. If she wasn't wearing
her
gloves, her nails would have drawn blood.
"We'll continue," she stated. "Lead on."
[*]
Since good minds think alike, Zelgadis and Amelia were careful to hold
hands as they tested doors. Since chance is random, they didn't encounter
anything as extreme as the others were.
The room to room to room search consisted of mundane locations.
Bathrooms. Parlors. Guest rooms. Sub-kitchens. All the usual things
you'd
find in a royal palace, a rich family's home. One room chained off to
another, and so on, until they were unfortunately completely lost.
"We're not lost," Zelgadis said when Amelia raised the point. "I've
got
our exact path memorized. We just backtrack when we hit a dead end and try
the next door in the hallway."
"This is gonna take forever," Amelia sighed. "They've got the
advantage, don't they? That man has control of this house in full. We'll
never find the family if they don't want us to find them."
"Strategy means finding a weak point to exploit. There's no such thing
as a flawless defense. Now, it'll take some time to find the chink in the
armor, but we'll find it," Zelgadis said. "And if we don't... odds are
Lina's usual luck with these things and her tendency to knock holes in the
walls when she can't find a door will win the day. I'm not too worried."
"You're so cool under fire, Zelgadis!" Amelia cheered.
"I'm just being realistic about things. Which door do you want to try
now? Looks like there's three branching off from this dining room."
"Ummm... that one," Amelia said. "It has pretty nice molding. Kind of
like the decorations back home."
He couldn't hold his sword and hold onto Amelia's hand AND turn the
knob
at the same time, so it was Amelia's job to open the doors. She reached out
and did what was needed... not really worried. Maybe it's a sense of
comfort
from the familiar, he thought, as they stepped into the next room.
Another bedroom. Probably that of a little girl, from all the pink and
white, Zelgadis thought. Flowing canopy bed, boxes of toys, dolls and
pillows scattered about... very cute. Very...
...very interesting how the portrait hanging next to the bed looked a
lot like Amelia and Prince Phil.
"Wh... wh..." Amelia said, taking a step back in shock. "What...
it's... Zelgadis, this is MY room!"
"Be careful," he warned. "Clearly we haven't been whisked back to
Sailoon. Something's going on."
Amelia let go of his hand, smiling brightly as she went to check the
pile of dolls on the bed. "Lady Justice!" she recognized... matching it to
the doll she had stolen from Timmy's toybox earlier. "What do you know.
It's all here. Of course, this room was lost in the fire and I moved to the
less interesting one down the hall, but this is JUST how I remember it!"
Realization hit him like a baseball between the eyes. "Of course! I
get it now, Amelia. Why you found your doll in Timmy's toybox, and why we
kept finding other little familiar notes. This building isn't just reacting
to the one holding the map... it's reacting to US. To our memories."
"Memories?" Amelia asked, nicking the other Lady Justice doll as well.
"It's reading our minds...?"
"Everything about this house revolves around memories," Zelgadis
continued. "It's coated in portraits, pictures of this family doing things
from their past. Memories frozen in time, just as the clock upstairs is
frozen at a minute to midnight! This might be the edge we need. What else
do you remember about this room, Amelia? You didn't happen to have any
weapons stored here or anything, did you?"
"I was just a kid, Zelgadis. Of course not! Scariest thing in here
was... uh..." Amelia thought... and trembled. "The closet monster..."
"The what?" Zelgadis asked, before being grabbed by a large clawed hand
that reached out of the closet behind him.
Of course, the edge can be double-edged. Zelgadis had his sword out
quickly, to battle the shapeless horror, trying to submerge his own fears...
he could FEEL the icy grip of the monster, like a shadow come to life.
Stone
skin was not going to protect him from the pressure of its grip, from the
scraping feeling. But he had to keep control, to fight it so--
The closet door slammed shut, leaving Zelgadis's sword spinning on the
ground, and a lot of dead silence. Very dead silence.
"....." Amelia screamed, backing away from the closet in terror. She
was an adult now, of course, closet monsters weren't scary... but this
wasn't
an adult's room, and she didn't feel very adult at the moment. Every night,
her father would come in and 'banish the closet monster', so she could sleep
well at night. And he'd also take care of the monsters under the bed--
The bed!
She tried to run, but the memory came to life at the speed of thought.
Just recalling the bed monsters was enough to trigger their existence in
this
twisted house of memories. Hands grasped for her legs, to pull her under
the
bed to the shadows beneath it, shadows she was afraid of for years...
This isn't happening, Amelia thought, grabbing for her nightstand for
leverage. It can't be. It's impossible. It can't REALLY hurt me because
they were just imaginary, but right now her imagination was going to kill
her. Zelgadis was gone. She couldn't cast a spell without letting go, she
couldn't let go or she'd die, she knew it in her mind and her mind knew it
would happen...
Her sweaty fingers started to slip.
She screamed.
And right as she lost her grip, she closed her eyes and wished for it
to
be quick...
A brush of cloth, a slice of a metal blade, a scream...
And the monsters shrank back into nothingness. She found herself
hauled
back to her feet, and set upright...
"Are you okay?" Mortimer asked, keeping his scythe blade pointed away
from her.
"..." Amelia repeated, in shock.
He turned to leave, task done... looking back over his shoulder to her.
"I swore to protect you," he reminded her... before stepping into shadow and
vanishing.
[*]
Tumbling end over end, reaching out to try and find something to hold
onto and finding nothing as she goes through the door, in one door and out
another--
Staggering as if downshifting from a flat sprint to standing still,
Kris
lurched forward three steps from the door. Finally her hand found
something,
the wooden counter, stable and firm. Ideal for stopping herself, as she
caught her breath...
The door behind her swung shut.
"Back so soon?" he asked, looking up from his book. "I thought you
were
going to be out longer than that."
As if the shock of tumbling through that door wasn't bad enough, the
voice nearly gave her a heart attack. She leaned heavily on the counter,
and
studied him... from his round belly to his friendly white moustache, and
tiny
spectacles...
"F.. father?" she asked.
"It's getting quite late," he sighed, setting down his book. "I'd hate
to close up early, but my back hurts and I really should go lie down... can
you handle the store, Kris-chan? Remember, if anybody gives you trouble,
the
McArthur's are right down the street. Okay?"
The old man walked carefully out from behind the sales counter, gave
her
a quick peck on the cheek, and began the long process of walking upstairs.
There were a thousand things she could have said, and that was the
problem. They jammed in her throat, fighting for room, to see who could get
out first. By the time she was able to speak again, his bedroom door in the
upper loft of the bookstore had latched shut.
"Fa..." she trailed off.
It WAS the bookstore. The store she grew up in, with her dear
father...
the only legitimate bookstore on Dark Island. That WAS her dear father.
But
wasn't she...? And wasn't the store a pile of burnt ash? It had burned dow
n
shortly after she left with the Lady--
The Lady!
She quickly turned and opened the front door of the shop, the jingle
bell chiming loudly... and instead of seeing the hallway of doors and
portraits, it was just the familiar streets of Dark Island.
This had to be a dream, Kris rationalized. She fell on her face after
slipping while opening that door, was knocked out, and now was dreaming.
Everything was right out of her memory... the shop, the musty smell of old
books, her father...
No, wait. Something wasn't right. The book on the counter was...
wrong. At first glance it was the color of midnight, but at second glance
you could make out little stars, stars that MOVED and danced across the
cover. With a kind of stunned curiosity, she opened it to the bookmark her
father had placed...
ON MEMORY ROOMS
Popular psychological theory relates human memory to a
series of connected moments in time. Abstract concepts
fill these 'rooms' in the mind, concepts that build up to
form the highlights of past experiences. The rooms are
connected via stream of consciousness, sometimes seeming to
be meaningless, sometimes having hidden meaning that the
conscious mind is unaware of. When one is happy, the rooms
are filled with pleasant memories, the stream connecting
together the best of the best. When one is afraid, those
fears fill the rooms and the stream flows into a journey
of terror. But while this can be unpleasant, at least the
realistic flow is sane.
Insanity occurs when the rooms of memory become jumbled
with connections shattered, with concepts misplaced in
other rooms. This shock, the damage, can evolve out of
denial of a room that the system tries to reject from the
mind. Complete insanity involves rearranging of the
rooms to support a fiction that comprises the patient's
hallucinated reality, a reality custom made to present
an alternate to an unpleasant sanity. Wandering the rooms
of the mind in the disturbed is like a nightmarish journey
into fear, joy, worry, bliss, pleasure, agony and other
jumbled memories slammed together in the least useful
combination possible.
This is why one who is lost in the mind will have a
difficult time finding the Lady. The rooms have no
pattern, no rhyme or reason, and the mind is actively
trying to crush foreign elements which distort and
confuse it further. That's why every threat is very real
and you stand almost no chance of surviving alone, Kris,
but if you run fast enough maybe you'll live longer than
most do. And you know a lot about running, don't you?
Running to the arms of someone you care about because
you feel small and useless in the face of the night.
And while this is a very terrifying concept, it's nothing
compared to the realization you're about to have of what
memory you're currently trapped in. What specific memory,
what specific night and what specifically happened to you.
The nightstand tumbled to the floor in the room upstairs, with the
unmistakable sound of her late mother's flowerpot shattering on the floor.
She dropped the book, and rushed up the stairs. This couldn't be
happening. It was impossible. Her father's heart attack all over again...
she grasped at his bedroom door knob, crying out for him, and flung the door
open, rushing into--
A darkened training hall. The double doors shut behind her, echoing
against the stone walls, through the largely empty and silent room...
Silent, except for a young boy swinging a sword repeatedly, feverishly
going through training exercises. He was nearly out of breath from the
effort, but pushing on beyond his stamina's limits, driven by something
inside. And, of course, ignoring Kris's arrival.
She stepped forward to confront him, to ask him what was happening to
her-- and was cut off, as a priest in red robes swooped in front of her. He
blocked her path, as he approached the boy, staff chimes jingling...
"Every day you practice to the point of exhaustion," the priest spoke.
"I fail to understand why you do this."
"I want to be strong!" the boy replied, swinging at the air hard enough
to cleave it and leave a small vacuum behind. "Strong. STRONG!"
"Well, if that's all you want..."
The staff rapped against the stones... and the chime was
ear-shattering.
Kris fell to her knees, trying to cover her head from the sound... but her
eyes could see what was happening.
Stones began to surface in the boy's flesh. He screamed in pain,
doubled over just as she was, while his skin faded from pink to a gray blue,
and his hair fell out, replaced by wiry strands of--
A hand fell on her shoulder, and she twisted around in surprise.
"I know you, don't I?" Zelgadis asked, ignoring the scene in front of
him. "You're with the Lady of the Mists. How did you get here? Assuming
you're real, of course..."
"Wh.. what?" Kris asked. "Where am I?"
"As near as I can tell, we're walking through memories," Zelgadis said,
as the laughing priest walked out of the room. "The keeper of the house
doesn't want us here, and he's using a map piece to terrorize us with ghosts
from the past."
"I.. I just came from a memory," Kris said, realizing what that book
meant. "I read something which said I was walking through the past... it
wasn't a good memory."
"Neither was this one," Zelgadis explained, unfazed by the sight before
him. "That's me. That's me making the second biggest mistake of my life.
I
was young and more than a little foolish, and more concerned with being big
and strong than with being wise. Do you recognize me now?"
Kris turned to look at the dream-Zelgadis, who was sobbing now, and
curled up in a ball. "The.. the chimera! The one with Lina's group.
But...
you're human now?"
"Correcting THE biggest mistake of my life," Zelgadis said, with a
smile. "Which was deciding to pattern my life after the sorrows of my
second
biggest mistake. I'm much better now. It's easy to survive these memories
if you realize how far you've come since then, how far behind you the
troubles are. You look pretty shell-shocked, though. Are you okay?"
"I was with the Lady," Kris explained. "And then I opened a door...
and
I was back to when my father died. And then I was here..."
"The rooms are connected randomly, but I think they can be guided,"
Zelgadis explained. "I got separated from Amelia--"
"Amelia!" Kris exclaimed. "How is she? Where is she?"
"I'd like to know myself," Zelgadis responded darkly. "I lost her
after
dispatching a monster with a magical attack. I tried to find her by
focusing
on her when I walked through a door... and ended up back at a memory of when
she was nearly killed by a Mazoku Lord. So I focused on trying to get
enough
power to break out of the rooms and here I am. The situation is not looking
up."
"Maybe I can help?" Kris suggested. "I know Amelia... we met back at
Bloody Dangerous Island. If we both focus at the same time, then it won't
focus on either of our specific memories? I mean... um. It's worth a try,
right?"
"It's worth a try," Zelgadis agreed. "I'm running out of ideas, and
Lina's legendary luck isn't exactly working at the moment... hold my hand
and
PLEASE, don't let go. I'd like to avoid making the same mistakes twice in
my
life."
[*]
One step after another after another after another after another after
another after another after another after another after another after
another
after another...
Up to a door.
"Maybe this one will be the right one," Gourry suggested
optimistically.
Lina looked up at him with dark circles under her eyes, red in the face
from exhaustion. "Then YOU open it, Gourry."
"Yosh! Here I go!" he declared, grasping the knob and opening it to...
The beginning of another staircase. Lina looked behind herself, to see
the back of her head through an open doorway fifty feet away.
"Someone's going to pay for this," she stated. "Someone's going to pay
with money, food, and possibly their life! There's no way out of this
blasted maze! For a family that claims to hate staircases they sure threw a
lot of them into their house!"
"Surely one of these doors goes back to the hallway," Gourry reasoned.
"If I was building a twisted magical fortress to torment unsuspecting
guests, Gourry, I'd build a maze which HAD no exit. You go through a one
way
door to get in and kill yourself trying to find a way out. Nobody says
there
HAS to be a way out. If I could only find a blasted wall I'd make my own
doorway! It's nothing but void below us."
"Maybe that's the way out?"
"Get serious, Gourry. Plunging into the inky blackness towards certain
death is not the way out I had in mind."
"No, I am being serious," Gourry said. "If the doors aren't going to
get us out of here... it's the only other option. Maybe the way out is down
there. It's worth a try. You CAN fly, remember?"
"Well... yeah, I can, duh, obviously!" Lina said, having totally
forgotten. "Ahem. RAYWING! And grab my hand, I don't want this rope
snapping on us!"
Ten minutes of uneventful slow descent later, with nothing to show for
it except more crazy staircases, Lina gave up.
"This isn't possible," she complained, after landing on Yet Another
Staircase. "We should be a mile down! The island can't go that far down,
can it? Although... given the way space seems to warp around the doors, I
doubt that's any indicator. ARGH! This is getting me frustrated. I'm
starving, I'm lost, and there's nothing to blow up!"
"Uh... just don't take it out on me," Gourry pleaded. He looked up.
"There, blow up that staircase. Work off that stress! Then we'll think of
something else."
"You know? That's a good idea," Lina said, cracking her knuckles. "I
need a pick-me-up. Ahem. FIREBALL!"
"Whaa!" Gourry yelped, his arm jerked around as Lina cast the sphere.
"Watch it!"
The fireball shot upwards, nailing a staircase perfectly. It cracked
and started a downward plunge.
And crashed into the staircase Lina was standing on. In less than a
second, she went from having a firm footing to having a free fall into the
endless depths.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Gourry yelled, waving his arms and legs madly.
Lina looked at him funny, wind rushing past her head, her hair flowing
behind her. "Gourry, relax! There's no bottom, remember? And I can kick
in
the Raywing anytime. We're fine."
"Falling from great heights is not fine!" Gourry protested. "People
die
that way, you know! Or at least get really messed up!"
"People...? Hey! That's it!" Lina exclaimed.
"What's what?"
"Gourry? I'm not turning on the flight spell. We're going to hit the
bottom instead!"
"WHAT!?"
"You said yourself this was the only other way out," Lina reminded.
"But flying's a cheat. If normal people fall down a flight of stairs, they
come to a crashing halt. And that's how we're going to get out of this!"
"And what makes you think we won't get splattered like watermelons?!"
"Well, admittedly it's just a working theory," Lina said. "But I'm
guessing we'll find out in a second. It makes sense now! Gourry, why else
would anybody say they hated staircases unless--"
The two hit bottom.
[*]
Instead of freeze-shattering the doors, the Lady of the Mists decided
to
open these the old fashioned way. The click of the latch echoed in the
empty
ballroom, the doors reflected on every mirror-covered wall. Drapes at the
far windows fluttered in the breezy moonlit night, lightly covering a grand
piano.
"Another empty room," she spoke, getting progressively more and more
annoyed. "Just like the bedroom and the kitchen we passed through. We are
getting nowhere."
"This isn't a magic I'm familiar with," Kyle said, actively frowning to
express his own annoyance. "This has got to be map piece magic. It's got
the alien feeling of it. At least we're on the right track."
"The right track..? We're nowhere! We're lost! Kris is lost and
we've
made no headway whatsoever!" the Lady shouted. "What good are you if you
can't get me what I want, Kyle? You promised me the world and you're
delivering me a madhouse!"
"For crying out loud!" Kyle snarled, banging his fist against a
mirrored
wall. It cracked, but his skin did not bleed. "You people are so
impatient.
No wonder you die out so fast, you're rushing into everything, even your own
fates! Just like the idiot children my boss keeps employing... look. I
didn't live as long as I have by whining whenever what I want doesn't pop up
in front of me within five minutes. You have to have PATIENCE. I told you
I'd get you what you want, I didn't say WHEN. Have some faith, woman!"
"My faith is getting me nowhere," the Lady said, crossing her arms. "I
believe I will search this house on my own."
"Are you cracked? I'm--"
"--clearly useless," the Lady finished for him. "All your power is
useless in this situation. I have just as much chance of success as you do,
and I intend to capitalize on this. Aren't you the one telling me I'm an
island onto myself? I need no one else?"
Kyle groaned. "Fine. Whatever. Go get killed, get lost, starve to
death in some abandoned dining room. Have fun."
"I will," the Lady said. She turned sharply on one heel, and opened
the
door she had walked in through, marching out.
HUMANS! Kyle roared internally, leaning heavily on the cracked mirror.
Incompetent, overreacting, overemotional morons! He didn't give the Dragons
much credit, but he had thought they were at least smart enough not to put
such powerful weapons in the hands of these unpredictable, retarded--
"Doing a good job of keeping the 'weapons' out of your hands, aren't
they?" Kyle asked himself.
"That's just dumb luck," he muttered. "I'll get them. I'm on a
mission
here, and I never fail my missions."
"Oh really? What about the time you were ordered to fetch six wheels
of
cheese and the head of Sir Angus of Elemekia?"
"It's not my fault he got his head crushed by a wagon a day before I
found him," Kyle said. "And besides, it was just another of Deep Sea
Dolphin's crazed on-a-whim orders. I......"
It occurred to him a few moments too late that he was talking to
himself. Literally. He looked up sharply at the mirror, where the
splintered vision of himself was grinning and lighting up a fresh cigarette.
"And here you are on another crazed on-a-whim order," the reflection
said. The mirror waved out the flame from his fingers, and slipped his
hands
into his coat pockets. "Searching for the most bizarrely protected
treasures
the Dragons had ever found."
"Who the hell are you?" Kyle demanded.
"I'm a memory of you, idiot," the reflection grunted around the tube of
the cigarette. "Only you were never a kid and your mind was never any
different than it is now, 'cause you're a Mazoku and all. So it's basically
like talking to yourself only different. The house is doing all this, you
know. It can react to your kind just as well as it does the humans."
"One map piece is doing all this?" Kyle asked.
"You know as much as I do," Kyle replied. "Just think, man. One map
piece. One! Admittedly it's just a building-sized area, but think of what
a
whole ISLAND with this power could accomplish. Think of what Deep Sea
Dolphin could do with it."
"She'd probably want cheese and biscuits, or the entire population of
Zeifelia on a stick or something bizarre like that. Water on the brain."
"Or she might want to destroy the world."
Kyle did a doubletake at himself. "What?"
"HA! Aww, man, come on! You know you've been entertaining the
notion,"
Kyle laughed out loud, grinding out his cigarette on his palm. "Flawless
logic. It's in your bones, if you had any bones. It'd be in your blood if
you had any blood. It's the Mazoku way. We destroy, we tear down, we
annihilate. Isn't that the plan? The one true cause of the Mazoku?"
"Well, yeah... of course. Okay, so she destroys the world. Yay,
yahoo,
we win the war. I'm thrilled at the concept."
"You're not and you know it," Kyle said. "Don't kid yourself."
"Hey! Who are you to say I'm kidding myse--"
The reflection reached through the shatterpoint of the glass, shards
falling to his feet. A grip like a dragon's claw latched on his collar,
holding him in the air.
"Don't you get it yet?!" the mirror Kyle growled, eyes glowing ruby
red.
"Destroy the world means dead! DEAD! You die! Game over, the end, finale,
last call! All these years you've survived by being so damn smart -- gone!
Who cares how smart you were? You'll be dead and your survivalist little
self-serving attitude won't have ever mattered! You still going to cheer?
Yay, yahoo, we win the war? You gonna cheer on the one thing you've avoided
all your 'life', little man?!"
"Get the FUCK OFF ME!!" Kyle screamed, lashing out... ribbons of
darkness tearing at the walls, his voice shattering every mirror in the room
simultaneously. The floor shook from the rage in his soul, the rage at his
own dying...
He fell backwards on his ass, the mirror completely ruined, the hand on
his shirt vanishing along with it. Quickly getting to his feet, he dusted
his trenchcoat free of mirror shards, purging that incident from his mind.
With a shaking hand, he reached for a cigarette... but tossed it down
in
disgust. "Screw this," he said to himself, purely to himself. He had a
mission to accomplish... reasons for it be damned. It was time to focus on
his goals and get the job done.
Even if his goals and getting the job done didn't quite match up.
[*]
The Lady marched angrily through room after room. She didn't care
where
she was going as long as she was going somewhere; surely there had to be an
end to the rooms, and she could find it if she worked fast enough. One door
to another to another...
To a tavern. This was unusual. Who would build a tavern in the middle
of a house? And why would there be people here? Admittedly not many
people,
but...
But the windows were there, and it was nighttime. Strangely, it didn't
feel like she had wandered this bizarre fortress THAT long. A glance at the
clock revealed the agreed-upon hour, a night hour... a steady tick from that
old wooden clock, comforting while unnerving.
Familiar.
A young girl walked past her, wearing a heavy cloak and oddly enough, a
tiara. She sat down at a table near the back of the inn, to talk to a
teenage girl... the Lady walked closer, curiosity getting the better of
her--
And froze in place. The teenager, with her raven's black hair, a sad
smile on her face as she talked to the girl... nodding in agreement.
"I'll never forget," she spoke. "Not in my heart of hearts. ...I
can't
stay. I have to go now. I'm sorry."
Getting up from the booth, the teen quickly rushed past the Lady, not
looking back as she stormed from the inn, into the cold night air. Her
companion stayed behind, crying softly. The Lady approached, fear rising in
her for some strange reason, to see who the mystery girl was...
Amelia.
Her first impulse was to run. Run far, run fast, run away. A clean
break away from all this. The memory was surfacing in her mind just as it
had the night she met Kyle, the night she saw Amelia running and tried to
catch her. A clean break...
Writing in her diary about the ship, pondering Amelia. Pondering why
she was returning after making a clean break. Wanting to break again, as
she'd done twice before in her life. Secretly wishing she could just walk
away from this life before she could be hurt again...
The Lady grasped at her head, which was throbbing. It was like a demon
eating away inside her, trying to get out. A dirty little secret she'd
locked tightly in a metal box, so it could never get out, so it'd never hurt
her again. It punched at her, it tried to make her remember.
The teenager reappeared. Her memory had rewound.
"I have to go," the black haired young girl told Amelia. "I'm sorry.
I've got to leave, and my mind's already made up. I don't know if I'm
coming
back. You can't tell father, or anyone else; just pretend you didn't know I
was running away from home..."
"It's okay, big sis," Amelia spoke quietly. Her voice was so young, as
she was so young, so young in the memory... "I don't understand, but I'll do
anything you want me to. I swear on mother's... you know. But promise me
one thing?"
"Of course," the Lady found herself saying, right alongside Amelia's
sister.
"Promise me... you'll never forget your sister?"
Her scream turned into a gale force wind, whipping up the waters of the
sea... she thrashed with the memory, not wanting to hear it while being
unable to avoid hearing it. The memory showed her the raging sea, the ship
she sailed in, her dark wish, the map piece she held, the way it made her
wish come TRUE without her even realizing...
And the next day she had washed up on the shores of Dark Island,
shrouded in morning mist. The Lady of the Mists, reborn, remade, broken
away
clean from the one who was Naga the White Serpent, broken away clean from
the
one who was Gracia ul Naga Sailoon.
The names meant nothing to her anymore, except to know they were hers.
She truly remembered nothing beyond that day when she emerged from the
mists... nothing except for her sister. After all, she had promised in her
heart of hearts that she would never forget Amelia.
Too much to take. Unconsciousness was rising fast and hard, and she
had
one last thought before it consumed her -- a desire to see her sister again.
And then, nothing.
[*]
The church organ played on. It would play without cease for three
days;
that was Sailoon custom. Flags would be at half mast, the palace guard
would
wear black and the church organ's dirge would be endless.
Amelia sat in one of the empty pews, eyes locked on the casket ahead.
She was calm; she knew where she was, what this was. This was a memory of
her mother's funeral, just like she was in a memory of her old room. It
wasn't real, and she took some very minor comfort in that. But her reaction
was the same, as she sat quietly in the church just as she had as a child.
Zelgadis was gone. He was probably trying to look for her, so she
figured it'd be better to stay in one place. She didn't want to stay in
THIS
place... but if she wandered too far from where they split up, he might not
find her. She had no choice, no matter how painful the past.
But this was over, wasn't it? Her mother's death was behind her. She
had trouble adjusting to it as a child, and it still pained her to this day,
but she was older now. An adult. This was a part of herself but she didn't
allow it to torment her, not in the way she let the silly monsters torment
her back in her room. She could handle this. She knew exactly what to
expect from this memory.
Having the doors to a confessional booth open and the unconscious body
of the Lady of the Mists falling out was not expected.
Amelia climbed over the pew quickly, bounding over to the woman. What
was SHE doing here, of all places? This wasn't part of the memory; was this
real? Was the Lady really here? She tried batting at the woman's cheeks,
but it was no use; her pale skin, the way she was asleep without true sleep
clearly meant she had fainted. Likely from a bad memory, Amelia realized.
This house was trying to break them all...
Maybe it was that desperate realization, that moment when hope
flickered
that made her reach out so strongly. Right then, she wanted nothing more
than to see Zelgadis again, for him to find her.
So he did.
"Amelia!" Zelgadis called, walking out of a door in the far wall.
He hurried over, bringing Kris with him of all people, and they
exchanged a frenzy of 'Amelia!' 'Kris?!' 'What are you doing here?' 'What
are
YOU doing here?' 'How did you get here?' and so on until everybody settled
down.
"At least we're united again," Zelgadis said. "Not just you and I, but
it seems you've managed to find the Lady of the Mists. Kris told me she and
a friend of hers were lost in the building as well."
"We were following you," Kris added. "The Lady, uh, wants the map
piece
and probably wants to fight Lina again. I hope she's okay..."
Amelia sat back down in a pew. "Where are Lina and Gourry, though?
Should we go look for them, or--"
"I think we should stay put for a bit," Zelgadis suggested. "They're
looking for us, and if we don't risk splitting up again, maybe it'll be
easier for them. Although... where ARE we, Amelia?"
"...my mother's funeral."
Kris paled. "Your...?"
"It's a long story, Kris. I really don't think I can talk about it
right now," Amelia offered weakly. "Sorry. You mind if I just sit here
quietly and wait, then?"
The three sat in silence as they waited for rescue. But for two of
them, it was more than just a waiting game. It was a quiet moment to say
goodbye again to a cherished memory.
[*]
The elder rapped his fingers on the desk, eyeing the youth who stood
before him. The young boy was full of nervous energy, proud to have been
summoned for this duty, happy to help out the cause... almost a little too
happy. But that was youth, wasn't it? Spirit and energy and little care
for
tomorrow.
"Now you understand, you'll be spending a long time at sea," the elder
warned. "It will be a long and difficult task, but a vital one. We've
selected you as our backup option, in case the humans can't protect the keys
to the island."
"I understand, sir," the young elf said. "I'll do my best to fight the
Mazoku and keep them away from the dangerous island!"
"It's not just the Mazoku, boy. Humans can threaten the world with
that
blasted island as well... if anything, they can do it easier. The Entrusted
hold the keys, but any human can unlock the door. You must take whatever
steps are required to keep the island from danger. You will eliminate all
threats to its safety."
"Eliminate?" the boy asked, curious.
"Eliminate with extreme prejudice," the elder amended. "You're one of
our kind, elf. I trust you will have the proper judgement to carry out your
duty with tact and decorum... but with a firm hand, as well. Now, there's
one final thing you need to know before taking up your task. I'm a little
hesitant to mention it, since odds are you'll never be in a situation so
desperate as to need it, but--"
The pointedly irritated tapping of a staff on the floor.
"What are you doing here?" Xelloss asked.
The empty-eyed elf turned his head to him. "I... I got lost," Mortimer
explained. "In the house. I couldn't find my way out after I got here.
And
somehow I got to this... this place... in the past? Am I in the past?"
"Morty, Morty, Morty... we've discussed this. You weren't to
interfere."
"Amelia was in danger--"
"That's not your business," Xelloss reminded, taking the elf's hand.
"Now come along back to the Death's Door. This is not a safe place to be."
"Why did I smile so much?"
The Mazoku paused. "Pardon?"
"I smiled more back then," Mortimer said, nodding towards the younger
memory of himself. "I smiled a lot. I could... I could talk better. I
liked to talk to people. What happened? I don't understand..."
"Nothing, nothing. Nothing is wrong at all, Mortimer. You mustn't
worry about such things," Xelloss soothed, patting him on the shoulder,
giving him the thumbs up. "You've executed your duty to the fullest and
done
quite well. Trust me when I say this. I'm your friend. Now, let us begone
from this place. I could fancy a spot of tea, couldn't you?"
[*]
The two hit bottom.
That wasn't so bad, Lina thought. Not nearly as bad as the crash
landing she'd made on ENTERING the void of staircases. At least this time
she'd landed on Gourry, rather than the other way around...
"Please move your knee off my windpipe," Gourry did not say. Instead
he
said something like "ghhhhk."
Lina took a quick check of her surroundings. Four walls, floor,
ceiling. A good start. No sign of the void; wherever they 'fell' to was
clearly somewhere else, and somewhere else was a good thing indeed. Oddly,
this room had none of the expensive furnishings of the rest of the house,
none of the portraits. The door wasn't even white.
"A black door!" Lina exclaimed.
"ghhhhk!"
"Hmm? Oh, sorry."
"Hhhh," Gourry inhaled sharply, when Lina got off him.
"A black door," Lina repeated. "Gourry, you remember when Jeeves was
escorting us inside? All the doors were white except for one, and he
stopped
me before I could go inside. Said there was nothing pleasant in here.
We're
in the secret room! Am I good or what, huh?"
"But there's nothing in here except that big metal box with all the
chains locked around it."
Lina stared at him. "How is a big metal box with chains locked around
it rank on the level of 'nothing in here except'? This is what they didn't
want me to find! I bet it's some amazing superweapon that'll let us
counteract the effect of the map piece!"
"Or it could be a monster they locked away because it eats people,"
Gourry pointed out.
"I'd call it an acceptable risk. Gourry, bust up those locks! I'll
hide over here by the door so I can quickly escape if it eats you."
"Okay," Gourry agreed, cheerfully marching towards uncertain doom. He
whipped the Unequalizer from his back, flashed it through the air repeatedly
with metallic 'CLANG!' sounds... and the chains simply fell off the box.
"How do you do that, anyway?"
"Do what?" Gourry asked, while slinging the sword back onto his back.
"Swung that huge thing around and SELECTIVELY cut stuff," Lina
explained. "You don't even change positions, so how can you get the blade
to
cut the chains without slicing the box into bits? And you do it on bandits
and their outfits all the time, too! Do you have some kind of bizarre power
over reality that makes you be able to achieve superhuman feats and leaps of
strength and--"
"I drink lots of milk," Gourry said brightly.
"Okay, that works for me," Lina agreed. "Now... let's see what was so
dangerous that it had to be locked up behind a black door in the middle of a
house of horrors! You open it, I'll stay behind you all the way."
The swordsman cracked his knuckles, and gripped the lid of the box.
With a mighty heave and a flexing of the muscles, the box was opened...
...revealing a stairwell leading down into the box.
"AAAAAAAAAGH!" Lina yowled. "Not more stairs! They even LOOK like
those lousy endless staircases we were climbing!"
"No no, look!" Gourry insisted, wiping a finger on the top stair, and
showing it to Lina. "Dust. The ones we were on were spotless and kinda
fake
looking. These are real stone and it looks like they haven't been used in
years."
Lina groaned. "That's promising. Although if we walk down those and
end up back in the void, we might never get out for weeks and I'll have to
eat you for nourishment."
"Uh... maybe we should stay put, then?"
"No, my mind's made up," Lina said, hopping into the box, dragging
Gourry by the arm. "Down we go. C'mon, it's a tight fit but we'll see
where
they go."
[*]
"Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah!" Deep Sea
Dolphin ranted over the blown mission involving cheese wheels and a man's
head.
"This is really getting tiresome," Kyle grumbled. He turned to face
the
walls of her throne room and yell at the universe in general. "HELLO!
Whoever's doing this, will you kindly stop? 'cause if you don't let me out
of here this instant, I swear I'll make you WISH I'd kill you!!"
"KYLE!" the Mazoku Lord shrieked. "Pay attention to me! I--"
"Oh, go stuff it," Kyle shot back at her. "You don't exist. You're
just a memory of mine. I am SO sick of your babbling, you know? 'Kyle, go
do this!' 'Kyle, go do that!' 'Kyle, bring me a sandwich!' If you weren't
one of Ruby Eye's chosen ones coated thick in middle management suckups
you'd
have been slaughtered by your own troops centuries ago."
"Naaaani?!" Deep Sea raged.
"I'm leaving," Kyle announced. "And since it's not really you and I
don't have to worry about the consequences, it is my pleasure to tell you to
take this job and shove it up your ass, m'kay? 'bye."
He placed a hand on the valve to open a portal from the throne room,
and
paused. No, wandering from room to room wasn't cutting it; when he wasn't
in
an ordinary room, he was in his own memory. When he wasn't in his own
memory
he was in a surreal vision of the house's twisted interior. He was making
no
progress this way.
If only Kris and the Lady hadn't split off, maybe they could be getting
somewhere. The house reacted to brains and with three in one place, maybe
it
wouldn't be able to target him specifically with these stupid rooms. Then
he
could get some work done.
With his two companions firmly in mind, he pressed the valve and swam
into a church.
A gaggle of adventurers looked up at him. One half of Lina's band of
treasure jockeys, and wouldn't you know it, Kris and the Lady. Although
technically the Lady was unconscious, lying on a pew and being fretted over
by her little lap dog...
"Ah, crap," he groaned. "It's the fun brigade. Just my luck."
"Kyle, I presume?" Zelgadis asked, playing spokesman for the group.
"And what if I am, kid?"
"Kris told us you were with her group," Zel said. "My advice is to
stay
here. There seems to be safety in numbers in this house."
"You're not going to whip out some mad magic skills and start kicking
my
ass, right?" Kyle asked. Good thing Kris doesn't know what I REALLY am,
Kyle
thought, or these legendary Mazoku-slaying bastards would've wiped the mat
with him the moment he walked in... "Technically we're not on the same side
of the fence here. You want to swipe what's our right to steal. How do I
know you're not planning to slit my throat if I hang with you guys?"
Amelia shook her head. "Right now we all just want to survive this
house. You'd be best off staying with us until Lina and Gourry find us."
"What makes you think they'll find you guys?"
"You obviously don't know Lina very well," Zelgadis said. "She's
hungry
right now. Nothing's going to stand in her way when she's like that."
[*]
GRRRGGGRLLRLRLOWOWWWLLLWLLLRRRRRRRR...
Lina began to absently chew on Gourry's elbow.
"Hey, hey, watch it!" Gourry protested, pulling his arm away. "Focus,
Lina!"
"I am focused," Lina spoke evenly. "I'm focused like a Zen master. My
inner harmony is balanced and I am in control. I have but one goal right
now... LUNCH!"
"You know, you really worry about food too much."
"What would you rather I worry about?" she asked. "How we're lost in a
freaky magical house that wants to kill us? How we're going to have to
fight
someone who's not afraid to use that power to keep us from getting the map?
How we're going to have to dig the Sailoon piece off the ocean floor, how
the
island could potentially blow up in our faces, how I've got nothing to do
with my life except quests like this and--"
"Food is good," Gourry quickly said.
"Life becomes much simpler when you panic about what's right in front
of
you and leave the rest on the backburner. So pardon my whining about my
growling stomach, it's what's helping me be angry enough to get through
this.
Get my drift? Now WHERE are these stairs leading?"
The stairs weren't like the others. They had the same grey stonework
to
them, but it felt completely different... more REAL, if that made sense.
There was dust, there were cobwebs. It was almost like this was a true part
of the house, without any map effects whatsoever. As far as Lina could
tell,
this tight spiral stairwell probably wound from the ground floor to the top
of the building -- it was the central means of access other than the
elevator, but hadn't been used in years.
There were doors at every floor on small landings, but these doors were
locked off. Lina had tried blowing a few up... and they absorbed her magic
completely. If the map was doing anything, it was keeping those doors
closed
off. Sealing them in... sealing them out?
"We got in here through that locked box in a locked room," Lina thought
aloud. "And all the doors are locked. But this isn't a trap, Gourry. I
think someone in the family sealed this part of the house off, and we found
the only way in... there's something going on here."
"Huh?"
"I don't know what yet, but this feels damned important. If only there
was some hint as to WHY it was important I'd have more to go on, but--"
Somewhere high above, the chiming of a bell began. One. Two...
Gourry yanked back on her arm, the rope pulling her from a stroll to a
stop. She was about to yell at him in protest, before seeing he was holding
a finger to his lips... and pointing with the other hand.
She followed the finger with her eyes, and nearly yelped in surprise at
the two figures she saw.
It was clearly Sir and Madam of the family. They were walking in
through one of the doors... THROUGH one of the doors, as if they were
ghosts.
They spoke, but they spoke inaudibly, as the tolling of the clock bell
drowned out all other sound. Sir was telling Ma'am a joke, as they headed
down the stairs...
And she slipped. Because she was holding his hand, she pulled him down
with her, and the two tumbled awkwardly and painfully down the stairs. They
were quickly out of sight -- but the nasty crunching sound was enough to
confirm things. The twelfth and final bell sounded, and then all was
silence
once more.
"Lina..." Gourry whispered.
"I saw, Gourry," she said. "Let's try the door they just used. Maybe
it's unlocked. Then we've got to find the others... I'm tired of this, and
I
want what I came for. We're going to find our friends, find that family and
get this over with once and for all. I think I may know what's going on
now"
[*]
The rear doors of the church opened. All heads turned to see Lina and
Gourry's grand entrance.
Lina ripped the rope at her wrist, much to Gourry's protest. "You need
to hold the door open," she reminded him. "That's our ticket out of here.
Put your back into it, I'll go grab the others."
The next minute:
"Lina!"
"Gourry!"
"Where have you been?"
"How did you get here?"
"Did you guys find out anything?"
"Blah blah blah update on what they found blah blah book Kris read blah
blah living memories blah blah this is Kyle blah blah no I won't put out my
cigarette blah blah love and justice blah blah it's only a working theory
but
blah blah."
Ten minutes later, Lina was ready.
"Pack up your stuff, we're leaving," she said. "Gourry! That door
still lead to the stairwell?"
"Hasn't changed!" he called back.
"Fabu. Kyle, whoever you are, make yourself useful and carry the
Lady,"
Lina said. "Hopefully she'll stay knocked out long enough for me to get the
map and leave without a rematch from our Dark Island brawl."
"What makes you think I won't fight you over the map piece?" Kyle
asked,
putting his arms around the Lady and hauling her off the pew.
"Because I'm not leaving you here to be lost forever, that's why," Lina
said. "Eye for an eye. I help you out, you leave me alone today. It's
honorable, isn't it?"
"I've never been the honorable sort," Kyle growled.
"Can we continue this discussion after we're out of the house, please?"
Zelgadis interrupted. "Now is not the time for posturing and
chest-beating."
"Zel's right," Lina said, turning with a flourish of the cape. "We've
got stairs to climb. If I'm right, they'll take us straight up to the
parlor, and that's where we'll have the final showdown. Everybody get
ready,
this one could hurt. And I don't mean physical pain."
[*]
On a high tower on a clear evening a happy family sets down to dinner.
Smiles are all around, bright like the silverware on which they dine.
Good food prepared by the happy mother is passed around and eaten, and that
makes them happy. Dessert is ice cream which makes the young boy very
happy,
it's always been his favorite.
Afterwards, father reads a good book which makes him happy and mother
knits clothes for the boy, which makes both of them happy. The boy plays
with the dog and the dog is happy as well. The clock high above the
fireplace ticks its seconds back and forth in the empty night, and the hands
don't move, and that makes them happiest of all.
They had guests before, but those guests weren't very nice and were
quickly forgotten. They wouldn't interfere again, at least not until they
broke down one of the walls and interfered quite awfully.
Lina's smoking hand was still raised as the rubble from the wall
clattered to the ground. The walled-up door to the central staircase was
blown to bits -- nothing would block off that part of the house from this
sanctuary any longer.
Timmy yelped in panic, and moved to hide behind his toybox. The family
dog growled loudly at the group; Ma'am gasped in shock before fleeing to the
safety and comfort of the kitchen.
But Sir took command -- he was up and out of his chair in an instant,
so
serious that he actually took the pipe out of his mouth. "You are not
welcome here!" he shouted. "We told you to leave, but you came in anyway!
If you don't leave I'll chase you out! You're scaring my boy!"
"I know I am," Lina said. "Timmy? Come here, please."
"Timmy, stay where you are, I'll handle this," the father quickly said.
"Now, miss--"
"You don't exist," Lina explained. "You and your wife have been dead
for years. You fell down the stairs sometime around midnight one evening.
This entire house, the memories, the portraits frozen in time, sealed off
stairwell, the clock stuck at eleven fifty nine... it's all you, Timmy,
trying to deny it ever happened. Am I right?"
All present were silent. Only the house made noise... shaking, the
clatter of portraits on walls banging their frames against the walls. It
was
like a small earthquake had just rocked the foundations of this tower of
solitude.
"Y.. you're lying!" Timmy yelled at her. "You're trying to make me sad
and you're lying! Daddy, tell her she's lying!"
"You're lying," the father said on command.
"Okay, so the jig is up," Lina said. "We're onto the scheme and we
want
the piece of paper you're using to make this house dance at your whim.
Timmy, fork it over. It's time you gave this up."
"NO!" Timmy screamed, wrapping his hands around himself and squeezing
tightly... causing the frayed corner of the paper under his shirt to stick
out above the collar "Leave me alone! LEAVE ME ALONE AND GO AWAY!"
Simultaneously, every fireplace in the parlor roared with thick red
flames. The portraits shook and rattled... and the pictures inside them
started to animate, losing their smiles, all eyes staring at Lina and
company. It was like facing down a mob just itching to kill you.
"Need I remind you he's got the upper hand?" Zelgadis mumbled to Lina.
"If he chooses to strike, we could be in serious danger. Assuming we are
not
in extremely serious danger right now."
"...actually, I hadn't thought past confronting him," Lina said back,
taking a few steps back towards her friends, feeling all those eyes on her.
"I usually just blast my way out of the situation when it gets to this
point.
But... he's still just a kid, sooo... okay, maybe if I'm VERY careful with
the attack spell I'll only hurt him a little--"
Amelia stepped forward as Lina was stepping back. So did Kris. Both
had the same hardened look of determination, as they faced down the young
boy...
"Amelia, careful!" Lina called. "He's dangerous!"
"No... he's hurt," Amelia said, her look melting to sympathy.
"Timmy...
I understand. I lost my mother when I was your age. I know how angry and
sad you're feeling right now, and how much you want to turn back the clock
like it never happened--"
"You don't understand!!" Timmy wailed, clenching his small fists.
"I do," Amelia repeated. "I sat in church for days, wishing it never
happened. If I had the paper you had... I might have done the same thing.
But they're not your parents, Timmy. It's just your memories of them."
"I can't... I can't go on without them," Timmy said.. his voice seeming
to deepen. "I don't know how. I can't do anything. Mommy and daddy... I
was all alone in the castle and... and I didn't know what to do, when I
found
daddy's paper, and... and I can't lose this now! I don't have anything
left!"
"You do!" Kris spoke up. "Everybody does. You have yourself! When my
father died, I was left with his bookstore and I didn't know what I could do
without him, but... I did what I had to do. I lived. I lived my own life
and I think he would've wanted it that way. Timmy... we're not saying you
have to forget them. Just accept they're gone... it's hard to accept but
you
can't find your own way in life until you let go. ...if I hadn't let go,
I'd
never have met the Lady, I'd never have done anything with my life... I'd
have had no future."
Timmy curled up tightly, sitting and hugging his knees as he rocked.
"I
don't know. I'm afraid... I don't know what to do without them... where do
I
go? What do I do?"
"Actually... I've got no idea and neither do they," Lina said, stepping
up. "Nobody knows what their future is. And if you do, if all you have to
look forward to is endless days of similarity like you've had... that's not
really being alive. You've got to get out there and LIVE. Okay? Listen...
you don't need the paper anymore. If you give it to us... we'll take you to
an island where you can start over. You're not really a kid anymore, are
you?"
The boy looked up... and seemed to shift and shimmer, until he was
nearly seventeen. "...I don't think so," he said, puzzling over it. "I
think I'm older than that. I have to let the clock ring, don't I? I have
to
let time keep going or else I'll be stuck..."
With shaking knees, the boy stood up. He reached into his shirt, and
withdrew the crumpled paper... tossing it to the ground.
The twelfth and final bell struck, knocking every portrait off the
wall.
Pictures clattered and crashed to the ground, leaving the walls of the
parlor
bare and musty... leaving the house in the wrecked shape it should have been
from years of disuse. Sir was gone. Ma'am was gone. This was the reality
of the house, all the desires that shaped it into a time trap having been
cast aside.
Now is my chance, Kyle thought. He braced a foot, and sprinted at the
speed of shadow for the map piece --
Mere moments from grabbing it, he remembered the protective spell. If
he actually tried to touch the paper, he could have his astral self carved
into bits.
Amelia scooped up the paper a second later. "We'll take that," she
added. "Time to go. Timmy?"
"Timothy," the young man corrected. "Please... call me Timothy. A new
name, right? A new name for a new life..."
"Don't think you're just gonna walk on me," Kyle warned her. "We've
got
as much of a claim on that map as you do, and we'll fight you to the--"
"Let them go."
All eyes turned to the Lady, who stood on shaky feet, with much
assistance from Kris.
"Let them go," she commanded. "They have it, for now. They've earned
it. Nobody understands this boy's pain more than I do."
Kyle smacked his forehead. "Lady, this is NOT the time for some 'Lo,
as
a single tear rolls down my cheek' wimpy sympathy--"
"Kyle... shut up."
Kyle shut up.
"Lina... we'll continue this another time, another place," the Lady
warned. "I have a destiny to fulfil. I set off on a journey for the island
and I am bound to complete it. Even if I have to fight you to do it."
Lina nodded in silence. Nothing more needed to be said. The Lady
motioned for her group to leave, and Kris helped her to the stairs... but
she
paused a moment as she passed Amelia, trailing a whisper behind her, before
walking down the stairs to leave Clocktower Island for good.
A much-peeved Kyle simply glared at the whole lot of them before
vanishing into shadow. Unfortunately, nobody was looking at him when he
pulled the trick.
"What'd she say, Amelia?" Lina asked, curiously.
"...something about how she 'kept my promise'?" Amelia said, confused.
[*]
The Lightfeather set sail from the crumbling, ancient clocktower and
into the setting sun. Lina never felt so happy to glare into the blinding
yellow light of the sun before, feeling that cool sea mist on her face.
"And while ye were busy laughin' it up in there, I was stayin' out of
sight!" Phinneas ranted. "If that ship's crew saw me, I'd be a hostage or
dinner or somethin'--"
"Where are we going next, Phinneas?" Lina asked, not taking her eyes
from the sunset.
"Wot?"
"The islands. You and Zelgadis found a straight line of islands.
What's the last one on the list?"
"Oh. S'a resort complex," Phinneas said. "Dropped some supplies there
once or twice. Posh place, lots of hot springs, lots of fancy food and
expensive hotels--"
"Perfect," she said. "I think all of us are going to need some time to
decompress after that last jaunt. A resort is just what I need. ...how's
Timothy doing?"
"Fell asleep the moment he got onboard. He's in your hammock, though."
"I think I'll sleep on deck," Lina said absently. "No problem, it
doesn't look like it'll rain tonight. Get Gourry to grab my blanket, okay?"
That kid had his whole life ahead of him now, Lina thought. Just like
she did. A life of pointless wanderlust, of crazily dangerous quests, of
enormous risk with only a vague hope of cash payoff in the end. This was
her
life; not some bandit hunter, not a cabbage farmer, not a cost accountant.
She was Lina Inverse, seeker of adventure, born to rune.
The last island was so close she could taste it. That meant the quest
would be over, one way or another. Tonight she'd enjoy the ride, sleep out
under the stars, and revel in her unknown future.
But what would she do once the quest was over? Bandit hunting?
Cabbage
farming? Cost accountancy?
On a day that seemed so long ago, she remembered sitting under a tree
and complaining to Gourry that she had no direction to her life, no progress
towards her goals. Money, power, fame. Now all that was just over the
horizon, and it would be over...
Lina Inverse had no idea what got her thinking this way, on this
particular evening. But it was a worrying thought. So, she decided not to
worry about it just now. Life becomes much simpler when you panic about
what's right in front of you and leave the rest on the backburner.
RGRRLRLLGLLOWOWWWLLLL.
And right now she was going to empty the pantry. The rest could wait.
.-------------------------.
|T|O|B|E|C|O|N|T|I|N|U|E|D|
`-------------------------'