[Mkguild] "Burning Time" pt. 1

[Nathan Pfaunmiller]

Hey guys, here's the first part of my next MK offering.  Note that the first
few parts are almost identical to my earlier post, so you can start from the
first new thing you see if you read it the first time.

_______________________

Burning Time

By LurkingWolf



<I>From the Journal of Vincent Lois</I>



<I>November the 22nd, in the year 707, Cristos Reckoning</I>



            Time:  A precious commodity, when one is short on it.  However,
when one has it in overabundance, it becomes a chore just to decide what to
do with it all.



            This morning I arrived at Metamor Keep, the Jewel of the North,
my only true home.  I cannot begin to describe how it feels to once more be
within these walls.  I feel reinvigorated.  I want to see everything I saw
when I was here the first time.  I feel a bubbling excitement, a longing to
be everywhere at once, yet at the same time, there is indecision.  After so
long, after so much has changed, where do I start?



            I have already seen strange things in my time here at the Keep.
Even before arriving, it fell to me and the members of my caravan to assist
a Metamorian lumber crew in removing a tree that had obstructed our
path.  Among
these people was one who truly stood out, a beaver with plaid fur.  I had
known that the Keep’s Curse was known to produce strange changes at times,
but I had not known that a change in fur tone was one of these.



            As I entered the Keep, there was relatively little activity on
the streets, this owed to a storm that blew in a few days back.  Still, one
does not pass by a bipedal horse leading a quadruped member of his own
species without having to look twice.  Beyond these instances, however, the
Keep seems to have saved it’s more surprising aspects for later.  The person
from whom I received my room was an apparently normal woman.  By my
knowledge of the Curse, she must have once been a man.  Either way, they do
business the same, so I noticed little difference.



            There was hardly anything remarkable about the boy who took my
horse to the stables, either.  I could imagine that he is still waiting for
the Curse’s effect on him, yet he could also be one of those forced to live
a second childhood by the Curse.



            As for my own part, I now sit in my room, waiting for the
weather to clear before doing anything.  There are so many places that I
could go.  Here in the lower keep, there are various establishments I used
spend much time in, craftsmen I knew by name from the amount of time I spent
examining their wares, memories that I can now revisit now that I have
returned.  The library, in which I spent so much time my first time here,
would still undoubtedly hold secrets I would love to uncover.  The Deaf
Mule, the one place in the world where I actually allowed myself to become
acquainted with people, would also be an interesting target.  Perhaps I will
once again wander the halls aimlessly, letting the strange features of the
Keep take me where they will.  Whichever of these options I select, however,
I will wait for the weather to clear.  While I am not unfamiliar with bad
weather, and although I do not hate it as some do, I will not be at all put
out when I may once more walk outside without being soaked through.



            The inn at which I have taken lodging has been kind enough to
give me almost any comfort I desire, as long as my coin is good.  So, until
such time as I am once again able to wander freely, I will remain here at
the inn and do as much as I can to prepare myself for my eventual permanent
residence in this Keep.



            So much time, yet so little to do.  How I wish that the weather
would turn!  Still, it seems that I must wait until the morning to
reacquaint myself with the Keep.  Until then I can only sit and wait.



<I>-Vincent Lois</I>



                                    *                      *
*                      *



<I>November 23, 707 CR</I>



            Lois awoke the next morning to the soft sounds of activity
outside his door.  Although the activity probably wouldn’t have bothered
many other people, he had long since trained himself to respond to all
sounds in the night as possible threats.



            It was almost a minute until Lois had convinced himself that
there was no threat to himself.  He released the hilt of his dagger slowly,
then sat up slowly in his bed.  Looking to the side, he could see sunbeams
coming through the thin cracks in the wall.  It was morning, and by the
looks of it, things had cleared up considerably since the day before.



            Lois prepared himself for the day quickly.  He exchanged his
traveling clothes, which he had worn to bed that night, for something
slightly less rough looking.  Although his wardrobe changed, though, there
were certain things common between both sets of clothes.  Both were dark in
color, dominated by grays along their entire lengths, although the shade
varied.  Where his traveling attire had been completely undecorated,
however, the clothes he wore now were decorated along the edges by intricate
workings of black thread.



            The thing that was exactly the same between both sets of
clothing was that his weapons were still buckled about his waist, one dagger
slightly in front of either hip.  The handles were angled towards each
other, allowing Lois to grasp them both and draw them across his body with
relative ease.  Apart from this, Lois wore no weapons on his immediate
person.



            Before leaving to explore the Keep, however, Lois took a cloak
and draped it about his shoulders.  He could already feel the cold air of
winter pressing its way through the cracks, and he didn’t want to be
unprepared when he finally left the relative shelter of the indoors.



            This done, Lois made sure that nothing was left where it could
be meddled with, then left his room for the day.  He had selected a room on
the second floor, hidden from the view of most anyone.  There was only one
door relatively near it, so Lois could rest much easier about his
belongings, not that they were unprotected otherwise.



            Turning his thoughts from his belongings and onto the day ahead,
Lois moved towards the stairway that would lead him down into the main room..
He could already hear the sounds of people beginning their day down below.  He
could smell what humble food was offered by the inn carried on the morning
air.  He could tell just by the smell that it was nowhere near the quality
that he was now accustomed to eating, but it seemed to call him on this
particular day.



            The room below was about half full, with most of the men visible
being human, likely belonging to some sort of caravan.  A larger group was
huddled in the corner, one member seeming to be keeping an eye out for any
eavesdroppers.  Lois chose a table just off to the side of them and sat
down.  There were only two people working as waiters, a boy, seemingly about
twelve years of age, and a girl who looked to be a mix between human and
some sort of bird.  Still she did her job with remarkable quickness, and
seemed to have no trouble carrying things with her strange arms.



            Lois wasn’t in the least surprised when it took them near
fifteen minutes to attend to him.  When they finally did, however, he smiled
and waved their apologies off.  He ordered a plate of whatever was hot, then
sat back to wait again.



            When the food finally did arrive, Lois was surprised and pleased
to find that it was still quite warm.  He paid for the food quickly out of
his purse, then began to eat in preparation for the day.  The breakfast
consisted solely of a bowl of warm porridge with a slice of bread on the
side.  Anything beat the food that he was forced to eat on the road,
however, and he ate thankfully without giving it a second thought.



            While he ate, he found himself listening in on the goings-on at
the neighboring table.  He was able to catch something about the purpose of
the meeting, or so he assumed.  The men were apparently unhappy with the
length of time that their employer was intending to stay at Metamor.  They
grumbled about it among themselves.  Apparently, the man who was looking
about suspiciously was charged with keeping a lookout for said man.



            As he listened, Lois began to think quietly to himself.  Wherever
there was unrest and tension within a group, there was room for potential
employment.  If he could put in a few well-placed words without sounding too
suspicious, he could generate work for himself.



            Lois was already trying to think of what he would say when he
caught himself.  He shook his head angrily, trying to rid himself of such
thoughts.  ‘I am not an assassin any more!’  He almost said it out loud, but
was able to keep himself under control.



            The remainder of his breakfast lost what flavor it had had
before.  He should have been able to control such thoughts, but they
constantly came back to haunt him.  He had left the life of an assassin
years ago, but it still had yet to leave him.  Sometimes he wondered if he
would always be haunted by such thoughts.  He desperately hoped not.



            He finished his breakfast, leaving behind the empty bowl that
had contained his porridge as well as a coin of rather high value.  It had
not been an accident or a chance that he had left so much, he had learned
that all he really needed was enough to live, and he could give up anything
he didn’t without much thought now.  Sooner or later he’d run out of money
if he didn’t find work, but it had been a long time since that had happened,
and he seriously doubted the chances of it happening in a place like Metamor
Keep.



            A slight dusting of snow had fallen the night before, hiding
some of the patches of ice that had formed after the storm.  Lois took care
not to step on any of these places, and so had to keep his eyes on the road
before him more than on the people he passed on the road.  He did notice
them, but was unable to make much eye contact.  He was even farther from
actually knowing any of the faces well enough ton recognize if he saw them
again, mostly due to the fact that there were quite a few animalistic faces
that he had no idea how to recognize.  He supposed that he would get used to
this sometime, but he had serious doubts that it would be any time soon.



            He was indecisive at first as to where he should go.  He had so
many places that he could go, so many things that he had to look for, so
many memories to be dug up from within the stones of this keep.



            He stood in front of the inn, quietly considering for a moment,
before he decided on what to do.  His decision, however, ended up being more
influenced by routine than by a desire to reacquaint himself with the Keep.
Dredging through his distant memories, he set off towards his destination in
silence, disregarding the other occupants of the roads as he moved.  There
would be time for socializing after he had a more permanent form.



            It wasn’t near as cold as it had been the day before, but he
still hunched his shoulders against the cold.  The fact that he had not been
active also contributed to the cold.  No problem, really.  He would be
fixing that in a few moments.



            Memory seemed content to serve in this instance, and Lois soon
found himself staring over a sparsely inhabited practice field.  A few
scattered groups had determined to brave the cold, and now huddled in groups
or sparred amongst themselves.  Some isolated people went through their
drills, swinging through slow warm-up strokes or quickly and systematically
decimated one of the practice dummies that lined one wall.



            Lois spent little time observing, although he did scan the faces
for any particularly unusual people.  Every time he found one that struck
him particularly odd, he committed it to memory.  He had no intention of
getting caught off guard by any one particular person if they were inclined
to introduce themselves to him.



            The Keep had decided to be rather merciful on him today,
however, and most of the animal keepers were rather ordinary by the Keep’s
standards.  As soon as he had finished his survey of the group, he did
something that drew a few curious glances from those who had noticed him.  He
removed his cloak, leaving himself wearing only a suit of light leather and
a plain white shirt, stained in various places from years of use.  Though
this suit could deflect a blow passably well, it was not designed for
weathering the cold.



            For a moment, he just stood there, allowing his body to become
better adjusted to the weather.  It wasn’t quite freezing, although there
were still some frozen patches on the field,  but it was enough to chill him
to his bones.  He suppressed a slight shiver, unwilling to allow the cold to
dominate him.  Cold was something to be dominated, not something to give in
to.



            Once he felt that he had settled enough, he began to warm
up.  Although
it was not in any way fancy, there was a small dirt track to one side of the
training field.  It was marred by the recent storm, with strangely shaped
holed riddling its surface, likely the footprints of some person foolhardy
enough to train during the rain or immediately after.  Whatever the cause,
many of the divots had since been filled by rain, which had, in due time,
frozen over.  The result was a veritable obstacle course, which suited Lois
fine.



            At first he kept a slow steady pace, making laps in good time
but not excelling by any definition of the word.  He simply concentrated on
landing firmly with every step, keeping his pace up, and making sure that he
didn’t injure himself on the damaged track.



            Few others saw fit to join him, most preferring to use other
places to run.  Some even had their own set courses that they would take
through the Keep.  Whatever their running courses were, however, few wished
to risk injury on that track.  Lois, however, saw it as a challenge, and he
was not one to let a challenge beat him.



            It was bout ten minutes after he had started jogging before he
increased his stride.  One moment he was simply warming up, the next he
seemed to be on a mission, almost rushing around the track.  Still he
avoided the frozen puddles and as many of the divots as he could.  He lasted
four times around the track, and then stopped walking slowly for another two
laps before he walked back towards the main area of the training field.



            Now that his running was over, Lois began to stretch.  He spared
nothing, making sure that every part of his body had been stretched
sufficiently before moving on in his exercises.  The cold, mostly forgotten
during his run, now sought to render his activities moot.  Regardless, Lois
continued his stretches until he was certain that he was ready.



            Once this was finished, he drew his daggers.  The weapons had
not left his side once during the rest of his warm-ups, as he had kept them
strapped to his belt.  This was the first time that they had been drawn
today, however.



            Lois moved through a series of slow movements, moving in both
body and mind through each step of each technique, making sure that
everything was correctly executed.  He had no doubt that it would be, but he
had to make sure that everything was fresh in his mind.  He did, after all,
expect to be using it somewhat more than he had for the last few years.  He
had no intention of sitting back and letting others defend the Keep while he
rested.



            Once he was certain that all of the basic techniques were fresh
in his memory, he began to pair them, moving from one to another in a
flawless rhythm, daggers tracing patterns in the air.  The patterns were
intricate enough that they could make a casual passerby wonder if Lois was
preparing some spell.  In reality, though, the moves were nothing more than
what they seemed to be at face value; intricate patterns, aye, but little
more.



            Little more, that is, unless you were fighting against Lois.



            The movements of his weapons served several purposes.  First,
they kept changing the positions of any perceived weaknesses in his
defenses.  Unless a fighter was very decisive, he could be thrown off by the
rapid changes in Lois’ position.  Second, any decisive fighter could be
drawn into a seemingly obvious hole in the defenses, only to have the
weakness disappear, leaving Lois to at an advantage.  Last, an inexperienced
fighter could be lulled off of his guard as he tried to find a hole in the
weave of blades.  Whatever the type of fighter, the technique had its uses
against them.



            The blades gradually increased in speed, the patterns repeating
themselves, but now moving ever faster, until the blades moved so quickly
that it was a wonder that Lois himself could keep the blades controlled
enough to continue the weave unbroken.



            Finally, Lois slowed, dropping from the fastest point of the
weave into a slow, almost lazy pattern.  He continued at this for a few
moments, until the weave finally ceased altogether, leaving Lois to take a
few moments of recovery.  This respite was short lived, however.  After a
bit of water to refresh himself, he moved on to the next part of his
personal routine.



            He moved over towards the training dummies.  He spent little
time waiting, instead launching into a series of attacks that had a rapidly
devastating effect on the dummy.  The attacks themselves seemed of little
note, but the condition of his target and the flying material from the straw
man attested to the fact that the rapid strokes were for more than just
show.



            He took frequent breathers, not wanting to wear himself out, but
rested only as long as was necessary before once more attacking.  He was
forced several times to change which practice target he was attacking
because it simply did not hold up against his constant rain of blows.  He
was unaware that, as he practiced, he was watched by a very curious pair of
eyes from across the training grounds.  The person to whom they belonged,
however, made sure to stay out of Lois’ view.



            After Lois had completed that stage of his personal routine, he
slowly wound down, performing some last stretches.  As he left the training
grounds, he did so at a jog, making sure to give his legs ample opportunity
to cool down before settling back to a walk.



            The morning was still young when he finished, and he was set on
making it as profitable a day as he could.  Walking now at a brisk pace, he
set off to see what more the Keep held in store for him.



                                    *                      *
*                      *



            Lois spent a good bit of the rest of the day passing by some of
his old haunts.  To his dismay, a good many of the ones that had been built
outside of the upper keep were either severely damaged or completely
destroyed.  A few no longer were even open for business.  He inquired at one
place as to what happened to the establishment that had been there before,
only to be informed that the owners had died at the Battle of the Three
Gates, almost nine years ago already.



            By noon, Lois had pretty well accounted for many of the places
he had once frequented.  Of them, very few were surviving in any manner that
he recognized. Of those that were still recognizable, one was now owned by
the eldest son of the former owner, who turned out to now be his eldest
daughter.  As he had known the owner relatively well in the year he had been
there, Lois found this change to be quite interesting.  The owner was not
present at the time that Lois went to see him, but his daughter assured Lois
that he would not recognize him.  She referred to him jokingly as ‘the old
goat’, making Lois wonder exactly how literal she was being.



            It didn’t seem like very long until both the position of the sun
and his hunger told him that it was time to get something to eat.  He
stopped by the inn where he was staying to get a bite to eat.  Their fare,
although just a small convenience that they added to make their rooms look
more attractive, Lois had to admit that it was rather satisfying.  More
filling than it was flavorful, it still presented a pleasant contrast to the
cold as it was served piping hot.  Although the food was paid for with his
room, he still left a generous tip for the waiter.



            His hunger sated, he now decided to find revisit one of his more
frequented spots in the keep.  He whistled quietly as he went on his way,
giving some cheer to the otherwise dreary walk to his destination.  The
winter sky frowned down on him from above, as it likely would for the next
few months.  He had never been partial to winter, but he was a bit more
resilient against the cold than were a few others he could think of.  Having
had to spend the better part of one winter outside without any more shelter
than his coat and whatever windbreakers he could find, he had grown somewhat
callused against what winter could throw at him.  Still, it was due to the
many times he had nearly died that winter that he truly hated the season.



            When he finally entered the inner keep, he immediately raised
his head and lengthened his stride.  There was very little ice to be found
here, and only in places where there was no ceiling.  If all went well, he
would not have to deal with such a place until he reached his destination.



            He smiled and gave polite greetings now as he passed people in
the halls.  A few of the people he greeted stopped to give him odd looks
before continuing on their way.  He paid them no mind, simply going on his
way.  The Curse had changed things since he had last been in this area of
the world, but he wasn’t about to let that bother him.  The halls still had
a familiar feel to them.  It was almost as if he had never left.



            He turned at random, just choosing a direction that seemed good
to him for the time.  It didn’t take him long to find his way to his
destination however.  He smiled to himself at the oddity of the keep’s
halls.  This had to be the hundredth different way he had navigated these
halls to reach the same place.



            He stepped through the doors into the library, looking about
himself with a quiet smile.  The rows upon rows of books on the shelves
still stood, not much changed since the last time he had seen them.  The
quiet of this part of the keep was almost unnatural.  Where other places in
the very near area were bustling with noise and conversation, the silence of
the library was only broken by quiet whispers and the occasional sound of a
turned page.  Lois had often wondered if the Keep’s mages had warded the
room against the louder sounds.



            He didn’t even wait to see if the librarian was still about from
his last time in the Keep.  Instead he wandered off searching for a
particular one of the books he had studied in his time there before.  He
walked along, occasionally running a finger along the binding of a book he
knew.  He smiled; these books had been nearly his only companions during the
long hours of silence that he had spent studying here.  Although it had been
years since the last time he had been among these shelves, he walked through
them like it had only been yesterday.



            He finally found what he had been looking for.  The shelf held a
selection of the books that Lois had been especially interested in during
his stay.  They mostly dealt with different types of weaponry and styles of
combat, but there was one other.  It was the one that he wished to find in
specific, one that dealt more with a general history of the Southlands.



            It did not take long to find.  It was a rather large book, with
the title sewn into the binding in gold letters.  He pulled it off of the
shelf, smiling quietly to himself as he once more opened it.  He chuckled
quietly as he recognized a smudge of ink he had accidentally left on page
fourteen.  He had been taking notes, and had accidentally gotten some ink on
his hand.  Not realizing this, he had turned the page and forever left his
mark on the pages of the book.



            He closed the book, but did not place it immediately back on the
shelf.  Instead he set it on the ground.  He reached into the space that the
book had left when it had been removed.  He reached the back of the shelf,
then searched to his left with his hand.  He smiled as his fingers grasped a
familiar form.  He pulled two of the books on the shelf back slightly, then
slid the book that he had hidden behind them out into the open.



            It was a copy of the original version of the same text in one of
the southern dialects.  Back when he was young and foolish, he had intended
to use the two books to help him learn a bit of the southern language.  He
had found out quickly that learning a language was unfortunately quite a bit
more difficult than he had originally thought.  Even with the help of a
Southlander he had chanced to meet, he had only learned some very basic
words.  The bulk of what the man had taught him had to do with how the
language was structured, even though Lois had spent nearly a year working on
it.  His own perfectionism hadn’t allowed him to go much farther.



            Lois leafed through the pages, shaking his head as he remembered
a few of the words.  He tried to pronounce a few of them, but what little he
had once known about the language had slowly died since he left the Keep,
and little was left of it.



            He turned another page, but was puzzled for a moment as he
discovered a few loose papers shoved in amid the pages of the book.  He
withdrew them, looking over them for a moment, slowly realizing what they
were.  He traced a finger over one of the lines.  It was clearly his
handwriting, although it had been long since he had written in his own hand..
He smiled quietly, not believing that the pages had somehow managed to
remain untouched since he had left them there.



            Also on the page were a few odd figures, scratched in another
hand.  Lois quickly recognized them as belonging to his tutor.  He had
written out a few of the words so that he could show something about
them.  Lois
had long since forgotten most of these lessons, but he took some small joy
in being able to identify most of the words.



            He was absolutely captivated by the book, both by the memories
that it brought back and due to its contents.  He simply sat on the ground,
holding the Common version of the book in his lap while he looked through
the two, remembering observations he had made at certain points.  Although
he had forgotten much of what he had once known, some things were still
fresh in his mind.



            Although Lois was enjoying himself immensely where he was, it
did not take long for his position to cause him to begin to cramp.  After
about the third time he nearly dislodged a few books from the shelf behind
him as he stretched, he decided on an alternate plan.



            He gathered the scattered papers that he had found still tucked
away in the book, stuffing them back just behind the front cover of the
tome.  He stood, stretching as best he could with the pair of books under
his arm.  As soon as he felt that he had worked out enough of the kinks from
his back, he began to make his way through the bookshelves towards a
familiar spot.



            It was a window, a rather large one, set in the wall of the
library as a means of providing illumination during the day, as well as
simply looking good.  While it gave him warmth and light to read by, it also
gave him a place to sit.  The sill of the window was very large, apparently
intended to allow a person a convenient area to lose themselves among the
pages of one of the volumes.



            In addition to a space to sit, it was also wide enough to allow
a decently sized pile of books to be set while a person waited to look
through them.  If one wished, it would also supply enough room for a source
of light, but Lois often had other plans during the dark hours of night and
morning.  That added to the convenience of the location: He could tell when
the sun was getting low in the sky by the amount of light he had to read by..



            Lois was moving through the shelves with a mission at first,
only pausing slightly if he crossed someone’s path.  If they looked up at
him, he would always give a quiet greeting as he passed, but the largest
reaction he managed in this time was perhaps a few smiles, and a few
reactions that were hard to read due to the face of the particular Keeper.



            As Lois neared his destination, he slowed his pace.  The spot,
though convenient in almost every way, was located on almost the complete
opposite side from where Lois had gotten his books.  Now that he was close,
however, he saw little need to rush.  He slackened off enough that, as he
got within the last few rows of shelves before his destination, Lois had
already reopened the book to continue his reading.



            It was a somewhat common practice of his.  During his last stay
in Metamor, it was not uncommon for him to pass the entire trek between the
shelf of books while still reading.  He had long since mastered the art of
keeping just enough attention on the path before him while being able to
concentrate on what he was reading.  Today, however, it seemed that he was
not quite as attentive as he may have been in the past.



            “Hi,” a voice from before him said suddenly, causing Lois to
look up quickly.  He found himself staring at a fox, a kit if the size was
an indication.  At least, that’s what he thought it was.  The fur pattern
was odd, though, unlike anything he had ever seen or even heard of.  His
mind ran in circles for a few moments before the memory of the plaid beaver
came to his mind.  ‘Ah,’ thought Lois, ‘So this is just another way that the
Curse manifests itself.  Funny, I had never heard of the strange fur
patterns produced by it.’



            The fox was sitting in Lois’ usual spot.  Lois almost became
angry that someone had taken it, but was able to remind himself that it did
not truly belong to him before he did anything rash.  Beside the strange fox
was a few stacks of books, and an open book was set across the lap of the
Keeper.



            Although he had been somewhat startled at the sudden greeting,
to the point that he had stopped a few feet away from, Lois was almost able
to return the greeting in kind before he was interrupted.



            The manner of interruption was odd to be sure.  The fox suddenly
turned slightly to one side, although still fixing Lois with a curious gaze..
The strangest thingy, however, was what the Keeper said.



            “Sulky?”



            This caught Lois completely off guard.  He probably could have
shaken off anything else, and definitely would have known better how to
react to another thing, but this was odd beyond anything that Lois had ever
experienced.  Sulky?  Lois couldn’t tell whether to take it as an insult, a
slip of the tongue that referred to something else entirely, or perhaps the
mind of a storyteller trying to come up with the word to best describe a
scene before him.  At any rate, Lois couldn’t tell whether he should react
in open anger, give the fox a concealed insult of his own, or simply hold
his tongue and wait for the fox to explain itself.  Perhaps he should
request an explanation…



            It seemed that Lois’ confused pause gave the situation ample
time to remedy itself.  “Oh sorry, didn't know this was your spot,” the
Keeper suddenly said, looking rather flustered.



            All right, admittedly, it only served to further confuse
Lois.  First,
the stranger had suddenly said something utterly unpredictable, then he had
begun apologizing for taking Lois’ spot.  How in the world did this person
know that this was Lois’ spot to begin with?  How many years had it been
now?  It had been before the three gates, so it was likely going on ten
years now, if it had not already passed that.  Lois was half surprised that
he still knew how to get to this niche, but to have someone realize that
they were in his spot that long after he had left?  Lois found it hard to
believe.



            Finally, he happened upon a possible solution.  Perhaps the
stranger had simply assumed that the window had been Lois’ spot because he
had the books with him and didn’t seem to be looking for anything more on
the shelves.  Perhaps there had been a few books left in the niche from its
last denizen; Lois had known this to happen on occasion during his last
visit, so it might have been just an odd chance occurrence.



            While Lois had stood for a moment, considering what to do, the
fox had closed his book and set it upon the stack that stood to his side.  He
seemed to be trying to figure out how to move the whole stack.  By the small
size of the fox, Lois did imagine that such a task would be quite a stretch..
Lois decided that he would try to remedy the situation peacefully.



            “You got here first, the spot is yours. I can find somewhere
else,” Lois said.  He did his best to smile, even though he was still quite
confused.



            “Somehow I don't think I'd get much research done now anyway,”
the fox said wryly.  He seemed somewhat distracted, to be sure, and Lois
still hoped that he had not disrupted anything important to the Keeper.



            Lois decided to try once more to allow the Keeper to remain in
the spot.  “Are you sure, or are you just saying that?” he asked.



            “No,” the other responded, “I'm fairly certain I won't be able
to concentrate here at all anymore.”  Still, the distracted look persisted.
Lois was finding this entire encounter to be quite odd, and the Keeper had
been acting strange ever since Lois had seen him, almost as if he were
possessed.  All in all, something just rubbed Lois the wrong way about this
guy.



            “Are you feeling all right?” he asked, giving the fox kit a
curious look.



            “No, I'm fine, really.”  The strangely colored fox said it, but
Lois couldn’t help feeling that there was still something wrong.  He
couldn’t put a finger on it, but there was something at the back of his mind
that nagged for attention, something that insisted to Lois that something
odd was going on, and this sort of thing always made him uneasy.  Then
again, he was always on edge as long as he couldn’t accurately read the
other person’s behavior.



            Finally, the kit seemed to come to a decision.  He grabbed one
of the stacks of books and hefted it as well as he could.  It seemed like
quite a load, and one of the remaining stacks was even larger.  Lois decided
to at least spare the person a little effort if he was that set on giving
him the spot.



            Lois moved over to the niche and set down the pair of books that
he had been carrying.  As he hefted the larger of the two piles, he said,
“Here, let me help you with that.”



            The fox managed to express his thanks as he relocated the pile
to a table that sat before a particular row of shelves.  Lois watched as his
strange acquaintance collected the last pile of books and set it upon the
table, then continued to observe the Keeper as he began to replace books
where they had come from on the bookshelves.



            It took Lois a few minutes of watching the other before he
finally decided on what he would say.  Trying to sound somewhat casual, he
asked, “So… What were you looking for anyway?”  Besides being curious, Lois
also wanted to have some small talk with this stranger before he tried to
subtly find out more details about him.



            “I was trying to find a book but... I sorta got distracted,” the
strange fox responded as he carried another book back to its proper position
amid its kind.



            “I’m sorry if I disturbed you,” Lois said sincerely.  He truly
hadn’t been expecting anyone to be in that particular spot, but that was
probably just because it had only been rarely when another person had taken
the spot before.  Now that he thought of it, the chances of it still being
his to take had been very slight.



            “Heh, wasn’t you,” was the response.  “I just started cross
referencing an interesting line of research and… well…  Can’t seem to stay
on topic very well, the curse of the scholarly.”



            Lois chuckled slightly before replying, “I don’t know whether to
feel privileged or cursed not to have a part of that curse.  I have never
been scholarly, much less have I had trouble staying on topic.”



            “To tell the truth, I’m not sure whether to be privileged or
cursed myself,” the kit responded.  “It gets annoying, but I find out the
most interesting things.  Nifty tricks I never would have thought of on my
own.”



            “Ah.”  Lois caught himself before he could visibly wince when he
realized that he’d run the conversation into a dead end.  He could inquire
as to what a few of those tricks were, but he doubted he’d ever hear the end
of it.  So, instead of trying to keep a dead conversation going, he switched
topics.



            “By the way,” he started, “What’s it like?”  He tried to motion
to the fox, but he didn’t seem to notice the gesture.



            “What’s what like?”  The fox looked at Lois inquisitively,
waiting for an explanation.



            Lois was uncertain how to express the question in words.  “You
know…” he started, once more waving towards kit’s form.  “It.”



            The fox took a moment, but his confusion was quickly replaced
with an expression of realization.  “Ooooohhh,” the fox said.  “That’s
right, you haven’t been here for more than a week yet.”  Lois kept his
posture solid, making sure not to show his surprise at the statement.  Once
again, the kit had said something that he had no way of knowing.  Lois left
this rest until his question was answered, however.



            “Well, I’m not entirely sure, really.  I’ve heard it’s different
for everyone of course, but for me it’s just a different shape, I’m still
me.  Maybe cause I used to experiment with shape shifting in my younger
days, maybe I’m just in shock.”  The fox gave an uncertain shrug, which Lois
took to mean that he wouldn’t be getting a much more complete answer.  Still,
something that the kit had mentioned had caught his attention.  Shape
shifting…



            “Ah, a mage then.”  Lois nodded, pleased that he had learned
this fact.  That would explain some things about this stranger.



            The fox nodded in kind, responding, “An odd one to be sure, but
yes.  I’m a mage.”



            Lois was somewhat relieved at this.  For a few moments, he had
thought that he might have been dealing with someone unnatural.  To find
that it was just a matter of a mage’s tricks gave him a bit more insight
into the person with whom he spoke.



            Lois considered his next words for a moment.  He had found out
some information that would be helpful, but he would need more to make a
full assessment of whom he was dealing with.  He decided to take the next
logical step, and use what he knew and what he had seen to venture a guess
at the fox’s particular skills.  “You…  Read minds or something?”



            The kit seemed indecisive for a moment.  He seemed to be divided
as to whether he should actually reveal anything about his skills beyond
what he had already implied.  Finally, seeming to finally make up his mind,
he said, “Or something anyway…”  So, not exactly a mind reader…  “I guess
you could call them whispers of the past.”



            Whispers of the past…  That would go pretty far to explaining
how the fox had known that he had been in Lois’ spot.  Still, Lois wanted a
bit more information; whispers of the past was still too general for him to
know what he could expect in the future.  “Whispers of the past?” he said
curiously.  “I never knew that that was possible.”



            “Neither do most people,” the fox responded.  “I wouldn’t
believe it myself if I weren’t always hearing them.”



            “Which is why you said you couldn’t concentrate…  So it wasn’t
me.“  Things had begun to click now.  Piece by piece, Lois was slowly
putting together a better picture of what had caused the strange occurrences
upon their meeting.



            The kit also seemed rather well pleased that they were beginning
to understand each other.  In response to Lois statement, he said, “Nope,
that window niche remembers you and it was quite vocal about it.”



            “The niche remembers me?”  That was rather unexpected.  “First
off, I have never known window niches to be very vocal about anything.
 Secondly,
it must have a good memory.  I haven’t been here in a few years, and I can’t
imagine how it can pick me out of all the people that must have occupied it
in that time.”



            “I’m guessing you used it a lot and other people haven’t,” the
kit said with a shrug.  “They seem to find the oddest things worthy of
note.”



            Lois nodded slightly, considering what this could mean.  What
sort of thing could the window niche remember about him?  “Well,” he said
after a pause, “I suppose it is true that I used it more than most.  That’s
probably how I know how to find it still.”



            “Plus they remember the ‘different’ people, the ones who stand
out somehow,” the fox explained.  “I’m actually not surprised it remembers
you.”



            “Stand out?”  Lois considered for a moment.  True, he was taller
than most, and, even back then he had already developed most of what he
considered to be his more recognizable traits.  Still, nothing stood out to
him as anything that would have stood out about him while he was at the
library.  He would have been reading more often than not.  “I’m not
sure…”  Lois
stopped abruptly, suddenly remembering one particular oddity that had
occurred towards the beginning of the conversation.  “Sulky.  The niche
remembers me as Sulky, right?”



            The fox seemed somewhat embarrassed.  In fact, Lois could swear
that the Keeper was blushing.  “Umm… yeah…”



            Lois had never actually considered that before, but the simple
thought of being referred to as Sulky by anyone, seen or unseen, heard or
unheard, was absolutely hilarious.  He was unable to control his laughter at
the thought.  Of all descriptions he had ever heard of himself, this one was
undoubtedly the bluntest and, in a way, truest.



            He continued to laugh almost uncontrollably, loud enough to be
heard at a good distance.  He finally reminded himself of where he was and
tried to calm himself down, explaining himself to the Keeper as he did.  “If
the librarian hears me, it’s curtains.”



            The fox gave a smile at this, apparently recovering from
whatever embarrassment the revelation of the niche’s opinion of Lois had
caused him.  “True,” he responded.  “Librarians can get VERY anal about
noise…”



            Lois continued laughing, although it was now quieter and much
more controlled.  Once he had finished, he commented, “Still, Sulky…  You
know, I never would have though of it myself, but it is rather accurate once
I think about it.  And getting tagged as Sulky by a window niche no
less.”  Lois
shook his head, smiling again.  “Only in Metamor…”



            “Only in Metamor…” the fox agreed, chuckling softly.  They stood
there for a few moments, the fox looking curiously at the human.  “So what
IS your name anyway?” he asked finally.  “I’ve been calling you Sulky in my
head this entire time.”



            “Lois. Well, Vincent Lois, but most everyone who knows me calls
me by my surname,” he said, holding out a hand to the fox.



            The fox took the hand, shaking it firmly as they were finally
introduced formally.  As he shook the hand, though, his eyes suddenly
trailed down to the hand, looking at it with a bit more than the usual
amount of scrutiny, as though he thought that enough staring would let him
see what the glove hid.  The handshake ended, but he still held Lois’ hand,
staring.



            Finally the former assassin took it on himself to disengage, at
which point the fox jerked out of his reverie rather suddenly.



            “Well, I’m sorry to break off our meeting so abruptly, but I
still have some reminiscing to do.” Lois said to prevent any further awkward
silence.  He also had no desire to give the fox any more time to spend
focused on his hand.



            The fox seemed to take the hint quickly, all too eager to
continue on his way.  “Right,” he said.  “I’ve got to get going myself
actually, things to do and whatnot. Maybe I’ll see you around the keep
sometime.”  He cut the pleasantries short there, walking off quickly out of
the library, leaving Lois standing amid the rows of shelves.  He looked down
to his right hand, rubbing the tips of his fingers together.  The entire
episode had been disarming.  Fortunately, the mage had been focused on the
wrong hand.



            Lois shrugged it off.  There was nothing he could do now, and
nothing had been revealed as far as he knew.  He finally returned to his
reminiscing, although he never again reached the level of concentration he
had had before the meeting.  He had been set on edge, and it would take him
some time to recover.  Fortunately, the book helped him to distract himself
for a few more hours.



            By the time he left, it was already dark outside the window that
he had been sitting in.  He had to extinguish several candles that he had
lit in the niche, then find his way to the shelf to replace the book in
partial darkness.  The librarian hardly paid him any mind as he slipped out..



            It was colder now that night had fallen, and Lois pulled his
coat closer to him as he exited the inner keep.  The saner portion of the
population had already abandoned the streets by now, but Lois was used to
walking alone.  All that he really cared about was whether or not the inn
had dinner cooking this late.  He was starving, having eating nothing since
lunch almost eight hours ago.



            He opened the door to the inn, then took a moment to look back
over the lower keep.  Lights were now beginning to be put out, streets
darkening as fewer and fewer houses left lights burning.  Lois watched as a
few more flames were extinguished, then silently turned and entered the inn..
At another time in his life, now would have been the time he would likely
have been leaving his room.



            He shook his head.  That had been a different time, and he had
been a different man.  Things had changed, and he meant not to go back.


!DSPAM:4c5a3872272491804284693!
-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: <http://lists.integral.org/archives/mkguild/attachments/20100805/d1d6efdd/attachment-0001.html>