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[Talvieno]

Chapter 15: Employment
This is the second entry of V's third journal. Her script is more flowing than it's been in the past, as if this time she was using a finer-quality pencil to write with. However, the narration appears to be different than her typical style at first, which is unusual for her. You read onward all the same.
    A young woman walked through the halls of the fortress, seemingly oblivious to the chaos swirling around her. Dwarves passed by, pushing giant wheelbarrows at a jog; others stumbled along carrying heavy wooden bins filled to the brim with all manner of items. Young children played tag, rushing past and enjoying their few years of childhood as well as the military fortress could allow.
    The woman noticed none of these, her dark hood overshadowing her face like a clouded storm. She walked with a purpose, just like all the other dwarves, her feet padding noiselessly against the cold stone of the corridors as she made her way onwards at a brisk pace towards the deeper apartment levels.

    She'd heard, of course, the recent news. The hallways were always abuzz with the chatter of passing friends, and it wasn't hard to listen in. The sieging zombies were dead, and the necromancers slain. The common consensus was that it was ample cause for celebration, and Splint himself (the newly-appointed overseer, taking his second term) had lately organized the greatest party the fortress had ever seen in its young life. Even those of the basement class were happy: for some unknown reason, possibly in light of recent events, Splint had mandated the carving of a "skulker barracks", where even the homeless would finally have a home. Everyone appreciated this, especially the upper class dwarves, who were glad that they wouldn't have to look at them anymore.

    However, the young woman didn't share their mirth. She saw no cause for celebration. She walked with downcast head, her cloak clutched tightly about her. Though her pace was brisk, her step was heavy. She'd lost a person she held very dear, and she felt that no blessed ray of sunlight could ever pierce her veil of sorrow. If one had cared to look closely, they might have noted a slender finger brushing a tear from her cheek, or perhaps seen two oddly shaped ears faintly outlined in the fabric of her oversized hood.
    The young woman walking through the hallways of Spearbreakers was none other but me, and I was beginning a new life in the employment of my former enemy.

~~~

    Reaching Mr Frog's door, I hesitated, wiping away what remained of my tears and steeling myself against my indecision before I finally turned the knob and entered.

    "Welcome back," intoned the cold, unwelcoming voice of Mr Frog. "You're late."
    "I came as quickly as I could," I said quietly, aware of the fact that my voice quavered from my recent weeping.
    He stood across the room, bending over my shattered bracelet on the table and tapping it with what seemed to be red and black pencils with long metal tips, as he read some sort of display on a small box beside him. He straightened, putting aside his equipment. "Not quickly enough," he answered, leaning against the table and regarding me with an amused expression. If he noticed my moist eyelashes, he made no signs of acknowledgement. "I told you I have eyes everywhere, did I not?"
    "Several times." I was beginning to wonder what he meant by that. I suppose I ought to have noticed the first time he said it, as I ran from him towards the old garbage dump to hide. The garbage dump has been reopened, as I understand it... possibly due to his warning that it was an excellent hiding ground to thieves. It might also have been partially because we needed somewhere to dump the thousands of bones that lay piled in the blood plains aboveground.
    Mr Frog approached and held out his hand, scattering my thoughts to the wind as I pulled myself back to the present. "I'll need that cloak back now."
    I slipped out of it and handed it to him, shivering as the cold air of the room caressed the bare skin of my back where my blouse had been ripped apart.
    Mr Frog seemed to notice my discomfort. "You'll need better apparel, obviously..." he said with a grimace as he turned away to store the cloak in his cabinet. "However, the improvability of your wardrobe is a relatively unimportant matter, and can be postponed. You've much studying to do, if you're going to be my assistant, and it would be most efficient if you began immediately." Saying this, he walked to a nearby desk and bent down to press a button on a silvery box that sat beneath it. A rectangle of light lit up the top of the desk.
    I caught my breath and walked towards it. "A computer," I guessed, awestruck. "Isn't it?"
    He nodded, moving past me and gathering several glass utensils from a table. "Excellent. You aren't as illiterate as your appearance would imply." From Mr Frog, it was a compliment. "It's a desktop computer, created by myself using a conglomeration of technology from several distinct sources. Unlike its unwieldy predecessors, my model's control surface and display alike are the flat surface of a desk, and therefore, its functioning's efficiency is increased." He was working quickly as he spoke, and though I grasped little of what he said, I got the impression that it was something he was proud of. "Just begin reading,” he ordered. “If you see an article you want to read, tap the screen where it is. Nothing is counter-intuitive, and it should be sufficiently idiot-proof, even for you."
    I glanced back at him with narrowed eyes at the insult.
    "No offense, of course," he said, leaning out from behind his tall glassware apparatuses with a sardonic smile.
    Turning back, I looked at the desktop. "The Fundamentals of Real Life," read the top of the display in large bold runes. Curiously, I held my hand hovering above it, and lowered it slowly. The lighting of the display neither dimmed nor disappeared, even when my fingertips touched the surface of the desk. Pressing gently with two fingers, I pushed away from me, and watched in fascination as "The Fundamentals of Real Life" scrolled upwards and out of view past the top of the rectangle of light. It felt amazing to be interacting with it - to watch it do want I wanted it to. It wasn't magic; it was technology... and it was wonderful.
    Leaving my seat, I knelt beside the chair and looked over the silver box that sat on the floor beneath the desk. It was humming quietly, as if there was something whirring about inside. There were clear panels on the side that might’ve been possible to remove, but at that particular moment, I wasn't interested in the computer's inner workings. I was more interested in the odd slots on the front.
    Two of them seemed to match Talvi's key almost exactly in size and distance apart.

    I anxiously got out the little envelope that Talvi had given me, now badly worn, and so, so carefully dumped the contents into my hand. I looked over the little key I'd carried about. It had two metal bits that were hollow, lined inside with strips of gold... I'd noticed it before, but hadn't really ever given much thought to it...
    I'd carried a piece of a computer with me for over a year and had never even realized.
    Eagerly, apprehensively, I fit the teeth of the little key into the slots on the front of Mr Frog's computer and caught my breath as they slid into place perfectly.

    "Hello, and welcome," spoke a voice. I stood suddenly, my heart pounding, my eyes widening as I saw a human face clearly visible on the desktop. As I came into view, it seemed to turn its eyes and look straight at me, though it was only a flat picture.
    "Damn it, what have you done?" groaned an exasperated Mr Frog, putting down his flasks and starting towards me. "You just sat down, and you've already found a way to create complications, have you?"
    The computer spoke again. "Voice pattern of 'Mr Frog' recognized. Retrieving data... You have no new AI Messages."
    I looked at Mr Frog and back to the desk, then back again. "I..." I stuttered, "I just... I didn't know, I thought... I just -"
    The scientist noticed the key inserted in the front of the machine, and abruptly slowed to a halt. "An Identity Drive..." he spoke slowly, tilting his head as he gave me a puzzled look. "How did you manage to come across one of those? I only ever had one of them, and I lost it five years ago..." While he spoke this last, his eyes widened gradually as realization began to spread across his face. He hurried past me to the desk, tapping the glowing screen in several places. Then, in a clear voice, "Disclose message content, non-administrative users."
    "Message One; User ‘Talvi Diamondknight’; Recipient ‘Splint’; Subject ‘Joseph’" rang the strange voice, echoing slightly against the stone walls of the room. It sounded artificial somehow.

    Mr Frog turned to me with an expression of astonishment. "You've kept this for how long?"
    "Over a year..." I whispered, worried he might burst out angrily at any moment.
    He only shook his head slowly, his gaze idling away from me. "Every record I have of this 'Joseph' is gone - I did a search while you were rescuing your friends... All I can assume is that whoever he is, he managed to wipe everything I had on him clean..." He turned back, his eyes sparkling with the eager delight of a scientist making a breakthrough, an intruding smile breaking across his typically neutral facade. "And you managed to keep one piece, one potentially important piece... You kept it safe. But this is wonderful!" The smile faded as he turned back to the desk, but the sparkle in his eyes remained. "Open message one, deactivate voice identity recognition, override user privileges," he commanded the computer, leaning over the display.

    The face disappeared, replaced with another: that of my old friend, Talvi.
    "Splint, is that you?" Talvi asked hesitantly, looking forwards blankly.
    "Yes it is," Mr Frog responded. "What do you need to tell me, Talvi?" He turned to me briefly and whispered as an aside, "This computer isn't equipped with a camera," as if it explained everything.
    "Well, Splint," Talvi continued in her familiar accent, "I've been wantin' to tell ya' for... Ever so long, now... There's somebody real scary-like tryin’ t’ mess stuffs up – I jus’ thought you oughta know... He said he's gonna try t’destroy the fortress."
    "All right, Talvi," Mr Frog said calmly. "Who is it?"
    "Well, I don' rightly know his last name, but his first one is 'Joseph'... You do believe me, don't you, Mr. Splint? I know it's not somethin' you'd be all likely to believe and such, but I don' want my cavies killed anymore'n you want Spearbreakers to fall..." The image of her face flickered briefly, as if she had looked to the side and back in a split second.
    "I believe you, Talvi," he answered reassuringly. "Tell me everything you know about Joseph."
    "Okay..." she began carefully. "I met Joseph a while back - he was in Mr Frog's room an' he wanted me to take him wit' me... So I did... But he's wanted me t'do things, Mr. Splint - things I rightly know I oughtn't should! He was my friend at first, talkin' to me and tellin' me things that were goin' on outside... He said he had eyes everywhere."
    I glanced at Mr Frog briefly, wondering again what exactly that phrase meant.
    Talvi's face flickered a few more times and continued. "It did seem like he could see ever'thing an' all, but after a tad I found out there was a lot of places he couldn' see none. But then he wanted me to steal stuff from Mr Frog's room, and he told me how much Mr Frog cared about me and how Mr Frog wanted to be with me and how much Mr Frog thought I was purty an’ such..."
    Mr Frog gave a snort of something vaguely akin to laughter.
    "But none of it were true! Mr Frog don't love me none, sure's anything. He hit me a few weeks back, even, so I knows he ain't all Joseph said he were... but anyhow... He wanted me to steal stuff from Mr Frog's room, an’ he wanted to know about our ‘security’ and how many cameras Mr Frog had up. I know Mr Frog has cameras up an' all, but I don' know how many, and I weren't gonna tell Joseph nohow..."
    "What's a camera?" I interrupted quietly, stepping closer to Mr Frog.
    He appeared as if he was about to answer, but Talvi answered for him. "They're a lil magic thing you kin look through t' see anything you want without e'en havin' to be there. I thought you might ask, Splint. It helps Mr Frog know all that's goin' on, an’ he does have them everywhere, not like Joseph."
    Mr Frog glared at me, grumbling under his breath that I shouldn't speak.
    "Anyhow," Talvi's image continued, her posture shifting in an instant, "Joseph got mean when he figur'd out I weren't gonna help him. He started threat'nin' to destroy th' whole fortress, and kill my cavies if I didn' help. He said we weren't of any importance rather than location, or somethin'... And then he said -"
    "Talvi..." Mr Frog said, interrupting her.
    Her image flickered again and she stopped mid-word. "Splint?"
    "Do you know who Joseph works for? Or who he is?"
    She shook her head. "I ain't even all too sure he's e'en a person. I think he might'n be jus' like Mr Frog's messages on this little key, an' just a picture that talks to you. Mr Frog's messages don't do anything but yell at me to give 'is stuff back, though."
    Mr Frog chuckled, scratching his beard thoughtfully. "But who does he work for?"
    "He don't work for nobody," Talvi said, her image disappearing for a second. "He says he's got a place called 'Eris', thass all I know ‘bout that. I's got a friend who he once said looks like somebody at another fortress: 'Ballpoint'... Is V there, Mr. Splint?"
    Glancing at me curiously, Mr Frog answered her, "Yes she is, Talvi - why do you ask?"
    "Joseph saw V once, he did, an' he wanted to know who she were. He wouldn' talk to me much o’ none after that... But he did say she looks jus' like somebody o'er there that works for 'im. A 'mole' he said, but I'll tell you sure as a splinter's needle cain't sew cloth outta mushrooms, I's seen her myself, and she don't look a thing like moles. Too big, anyhow, but she does look a lot like V..."
    Mr Frog remained silent for a moment, and the only sound in the room was the computer's soft hum and the occasional static sound of Talvi's flickering image. "Can you show me what Joseph looks like?"
    Talvi disappeared, replaced with a still image of the man I'd come to fear more than even Mr Frog himself: Joseph.
    "That's him," I whispered, taking a step closer and pointing. "That's Joseph - Talvi's right. You used to talk to him. I actually saw you make a deal with him. He said he wanted the promise of a favor in exchange for the amnesiac that I injected into Talvi."
    "Did he now..." Mr Frog mused. "Interesting... Talvi, do you have a picture of V?"
    "I took one once," Talvi replied as Joseph's picture disappeared, only to be replaced with one of myself, wearing the old, ragged hat I wore before I found my beanie. I was shocked that she had a picture of me. I could even see the bottom of my ear in it, it was so clear.
    "Excellent," said Mr Frog. "Do you have a picture of the mole?"
    My face disappeared from the glowing display, and Talvi's resumed its original position. "I have a little bit of one." Talvi's face disappeared and the face of Carena appeared on the screen, blurry and hard to see. The viewpoint was from inside the little cavy tunnel. I hadn't noticed it before, but Carena's face did look unnervingly similar to mine. It looked so close that I couldn't help but think that it might almost be more than just a coincidence.
    "Did Joseph ever tell you where Eris is located?"
    "I know more, but I'll have t'tell you in person."
    Mr Frog furrowed his brow momentarily. "Do you know if Joseph ever came to Spearbreakers?"
    "I know more, but I'll have t'tell you in person," she repeated with the same intonations. Mr Frog only grimaced.
    "Has the mole ever visited Spearbreakers?" he asked.
    Talvi nodded in response. "Yes."
    "Has the mole ever been to Eris?"
    "I know more, but I'll have t'tell you in person," Talvi's flickering image said once more.

    Mr Frog stepped back from the desk and spoke quietly in disappointment. "That's about all we're going to get out of this file. I possibly shouldn’t have accepted that amnesiac as you say I did, she knew a lot of things I’d really like to know. It’s likely all gone now." Then, louder, "Computer, close message, exit program." Talvi's face disappeared abruptly, replaced with the text, "The Fundamentals of Real Life".

    Beside me, Mr Frog scratched his beard thoughtfully. "It would appear," he stated slowly, "that you're already beginning to prove your worth as my employee..."
    "Thank you," I whispered. "So you're not mad at me?"
    He jumped as if startled out of his thoughts. "No, not at all, not at all. In fact, it would appear we're going to have to hasten your training. I'll need time to plan, but I think I'm going to be sending you to Ballpoint. You look so similar to Talvi's mole that you ought to be able to successfully impersonate her."
    My eyes widened, partially in fear. "I'm going to Ballpoint alone? I don't even know what it is!" I didn't want to be forced into spy work, as it seemed he wanted.
    Mr Frog grunted and returned to his work over at the apparatus-covered tables. "It's a company. They're interdimensional time travelers, just like Parasol. Their technology development level is advanced beyond anything you dwarves – or elves, rather – currently possess." Saying this, he finished stirring a flask and brought it over to me, picking up a book from another table on his way. "I'll need you to drink this - perhaps we can uncover some more of your lost memories with it.”
    "Will it be bitter?" I asked cautiously, taking it in my hands.
    He scoffed, "Bitter? Does taste really matter so much to you?"
    I hesitated for a moment and nodded, frowning a little bit as he glared at me derisively.
    "Hrmph... fine," he said finally, handing me the book and taking the flask back.

    I looked it over in my hands, turning it and gently opening its parchment pages to look within. It was a beautiful journal with a leather-bound hard cover - and in the center of the front cover was a golden outline of a five-pointed star. I tilted it, catching the torchlight and sending a reflection dancing across the room. I smiled brightly with pleasure - it was the first gift I'd received in years, it was gorgeous, and best of all, it was all mine.
    "I had it made for you earlier, express order," Mr Frog explained as he returned with a tall glass. "I figured you were going to need something a little better than that blood-spattered thing you've been using, and I have your original one here somewhere... But here you are. Drink this; you may find it more to your taste."
    I switched the book to my left hand and took the glass, drinking it carefully. It tasted of roses and sweet-scented petals, as if he had somehow collected fields upon fields of wildflowers and somehow put them all into a little glass. I'd never heard of such a thing being done before; it was unusual, but delicious all the same.
    "How did you do that?" I gasped once I had finished, wishing there had been a little more, and that I hadn't drank it so quickly.
    "How did I do what?" he asked unconcernedly as he took the glass from my grasp and walked away. "But it doesn't matter. I'll provide you with better apparel in the morning. In the meantime, you'd best get some sleep, Vanya." He pushed a button on a column. I jumped back in surprise as the shale wall to my right seemed to split and pull away from itself, revealing a doorway through which I could see a little wooden bed.

    I was going to have my own room. I almost cried in happiness, clapping my hands to my mouth - Mr Frog may have been evil in nature, taking skulkers from their homes and performing experiments on them, but his show of hospitality far outmatched that of Fischer. A real journal, a room, a bed and new clothes were luxuries I’d only dreamed of the past eight years.
    "I hope you don't mind the fact that the bed is made of wood," he smirked, wiping out the glass I'd used with a cloth and starting on the others he’d used. "It's my guest room, and usually, my guests don't mind."
    "Not at all," I breathed in wonderment, putting one foot ahead of the other as I seemed to glide forwards almost in a dream. "It's perfect..."
    I sat down on the edge of the fur mattress, testing it gently, and finally threw myself onto it with a little laugh of joy, feeling myself sink into the soft folds. It felt wonderful compared to sleeping in the hallways with a ragged blanket, and especially compared to the cold stone of a shelf in a makeshift prison cell.


    That night, I smiled myself to sleep, tucked cozily in a warm bed for the first time since I was twelve. The terrors and tragedies of the day were all but forgotten, though in my dreams I thought I saw the face of Urist...
    He was crying.

☆

[Talvieno]

Chapter 16: Dwarf College
Vanya's journal entries continue on the pages following, and for many more after that. The parchment sheets are considerably less cluttered than her previous journal, likely indicating she wasn't nearly as idle. The following entry is dated, but the first line is smudged, as Vanya appears to have traded her pencil in favor of ink, which she wasn't used to using. All you can make out is that it was written during year 207, Splint's reign, early spring.

    If Mr Frog is the Devil, then his laboratory (what he calls his room) ought to be considered hell. It is therefore ironic that I was so blissful those first few hours after arriving, and that his domain was such a wonderland for the inquisitive mind. Yet my enthusiasm gradually faded as I realized how hard he was going to push me, starting early the next morning.


    "Get up! Get up!" someone cried, startling me out of my dreams.
    Not even fully awake, and with no idea of what was going on, I rolled out of bed in fearful surprise, tripping over the covers in my attempt to stand. "What's going on?" I asked, bewildered. I had no idea where I was.
    "It's time to get to work! I trust you slept well."
    "What?" I mumbled, trying to figure out what was going on, as I clumsily pulled the sleeve of my shredded blouse back up onto my shoulder, as it had slipped downwards as I'd turned in my sleep. I blinked, trying to clear my bleary eyes, and made out a figure rushing back and forth as if doing morning chores. It was only then that I remembered all of the events of the previous day, and that I was in Mr Frog's guest room.
    "I've brought you clothes that ought to fit," said Mr Frog, laying them down on a low stone table. "It's nothing flashy or 'pretty', you understand, but simply normal apparel, modified to be partially acid-resistant. You'll need it. There's a shower in the corner, as well as a sink, hairbrush, toothbrush, towel... get cleaned up and report to me promptly."
    I rubbed at my eyes to clear the sleep from them. "Thank you," I said, trying to gather my wits, but Mr Frog had already left.

    My first shower took me a little while to figure out, but eventually I managed. I'd never heard of or seen such a thing before - usually dwarves took baths. Still, it felt wonderful, almost like bathing in the rain on a warm summer day, without having to worry about catching a cold... but it’s very undwarfy: what dwarf likes standing in the rain?
    Before long, I was clean, dressed in pants and shirt, my hair brushed neatly with a new beanie over it to cover my ears. And I had shoes - new shoes, made from giant emu leather.

    I opened the sliding stone door and walked into Mr Frog's main room - his laboratory. For a few minutes, I stood idly as I watched him scurry about from table to table with beakers of liquids, apparently doing some sort of experiment. Finally, I decided to ask, "What time is it?" It felt far too early to be up, and I still felt sleep-deprived. When you’re used to sleeping on a stone shelf without a blanket, lying on a bed can make it hard to get to sleep.
    "It's half past six," he responded, sending a cold stare in my direction. "You spent forever getting yourself cleaned up. I hope you learn to be more prompt in the future."
    "Are we going to eat breakfast first?"
    "There's a sink in your room, and I placed a nutrition bar in your right pants pocket," he said, not even offering a glance in my direction. "Eat that and we'll worry about actual food when we have more time."
    I felt in my pocket and found it - a little brownish bar that smelled vaguely of mushrooms, but without the sweet plump helmet smell. I nibbled at it, and found it substantially more edible than the stale biscuits I'd had as prison rations. Turning to Mr Frog, I asked curiously, "Why don't we have much time?"
    He walked past me quickly with a bubbling beaker, headed to another table as he responded, "I never have as much time here as I'd like. It's one of the fundamental flaws of this universe, not at all like universe Beta-17XG. There, you could spend hours doing nothing, and still manage to accomplish exactly what you wanted within your preferred length of time."
    The flasks he was mixing suddenly gave a huge puff of yellow smoke, and he looked on in satisfaction, pouring the concoction into an apparatus with a long, twisted neck. "That will need to boil for a while," he told me, walking hurriedly over to his computer desk. "We don't have much time right now because the drug you consumed last night was experimental and posesses a short lifespan. Come over here and we can begin."

    I sat down, and Mr Frog began assaulting me with questions. As he explained it, he theorized that my missing memories weren't gone at all, but only "altered to trigger natural automatic blocking". He'd said he wasn't sure how much I could recover with having been so close to my bracelet the day before, but he'd given me something meant to "counteract the alteration process".
    "Think back over your memories of Wari," he said cooly, leaning against a pillar. "Do you remember her taking you anywhere?"
    I thought back, my memories moving through my head rapidly like butter, as I grasped to keep hold of them. "I think I do..." I replied uncertainly. "I was terrified the whole time, wanting to beg her to let me go, or scream for help, but too afraid of the scalpel she held... and of it being found out that I was an elf. I remember her taking me somewhere, but it's all blurry - not at all like half a year ago in prison, when you gave me that other drink."
    Mr Frog grimaced. "Blurry is fine. Do you remember where she took you? She would've taken you to her transdimensional portal. Do you know where it is, or what it looks like?"
    "I..." I began, and suddenly stopped, looking at him in astonishment. "She took me to your room! And she took me..." I stood, looking about the room as I reenacted in my mind what I could remember. As the memory reached its end, I walked and stood next to the hoop I'd seen so many times before - the giant oval of wood through which the air shimmered. "She took me here," I told Mr Frog, looking back at him. "The same place Carena went through. I remember she was working with the controls on this box to the left," I added, pointing at the button-covered console attached to it, "but I don't remember what exactly she was doing... it's too blurry."
    Mr Frog regarded me carefully, a grave, concerned expression on his face. "That's my transdimensional portal..." he said after a moment.  We'll have to try this again when the bracelet's effect wears off more, to see if you can remember what coordinates she input." He shook his head and began pacing about the room, scratching his beard in thought. "This is terrible news... If my room is being used by Parasol, Ballpoint, and Eris, it's incredible that I haven't stumbled into anyone by accident yet... But now at least I know why I constantly find my traps disarmed."
    I wandered back to where he was. "What would happen if someone happened to come through while you were in here?"
    He only shook his head grimly in response.

    On a whim, I tried to see if I could remember my sister any better, and though I had a dim memory of practicing swordfighting, there still didn't appear to be anyone else in the room. I was very disappointed, and diverted my thoughts elsewhere as quickly as I could to avoid becoming depressed. "How was I able to take down those four soldiers outside your room?" I asked. It was something I'd been curious about - and had never had explained.
    He rubbed his forehead as if to clear his mind. "Honestly, I have no fitting hypotheses on that event at the present time. If Parasol implanted 'combat abilities' in your mind, then the increased distance from your bracelet for a year should have weakened them to the point that they wouldn't work at all. Not only that, but you should've been able to easily defeat me each time we fought. Instead, and contrary to what might be expected, your abilities seemed to weaken as you came into closer proximity of the device. Now that it's destroyed, the abilities may eventually return, following the same behavior they did before... but I have no predictions as of yet on how long that will take.
    "But come," he continued, picking up a notebook from the table beside him and scribbling notes down. "We have a mission that must be accomplished, not only for my continued and assured safety, but for that of Spearbreakers."
    I didn't like the sound of "mission", but I was curious all the same. "What would that be?"
    "There is a special, important device that I accidentally left at my old office at Ballpoint - however, they likely moved it to the storage facilities following my disappearance... It's a PEA - a 'Personal Electronic Assistant'. You've held one before..." His pencil slowed, and he looked at me from his notebook suspiciously. "Why were you holding it, anyway?"
    I wasn't completely sure what he meant. "What?"
    He sighed at me. "It's metal, it's got a little screen on the front."
    "Oh!" I exclaimed. "The little thing Talvi stole from you."
    "Yes, exactly."
    "I was... talking to Joseph..." I felt guilty about it suddenly, and Mr Frog's accusatory glare wasn't helping. "I didn't know who he was at the time!" I said defensively. "The PEA was buzzing and I accepted the call on accident - I was trying to turn it off so it would stop making noise."
    Mr Frog gave me a piercing stare for a moment, before turning back to his notebook, jotting something down. "Hrmph," he grunted, "You're currently incapable of lying anyway, thanks to what you drank last night. But before we sidetrack ourselves any further, let's get back to the matter at hand. You're going to need to infiltrate Ballpoint, posing as Carena - if you're any good as an actress, no one should question it unless they know her well, and few are likely to. At some point we'll need to investigate her, as she's our only link to Eris, but for now I just need that PEA. It contains blueprints for semi-automated weaponry and defense mechanisms that I must have in order to adequately protect myself from intruding agents."
    I shook my head in fright. "Me, at Ballpoint?? I didn't think you were serious before!"
    "I'm always serious," he shot at me. "Either way, you have no choice in the matter, unless you'd like to leave my service and be handed over to Splint. He has an especial hatred of your kind, and I'm sure you wouldn't enjoy his brand of hospitality."


    Thus, my training began. During the next few weeks, Mr Frog would have me study for hours and hours on end. "I'll be compacting everything you need to know into concentrated segments. You'll need to keep an open mind, ignore everything you thought you knew up to this point, and pick up other things as you go along," he once told me early on. And that was exactly how it was.
    The schedule was strict: Get up at six, get cleaned up in as short a time as possible so Mr Frog wouldn't yell at me for impromptness (later, I would learn to shower the night before to save time in the mornings), eat a nutrition bar (he kept changing the recipe) and help Mr Frog with various dangerous and potentially fatal experiments until lunch. I actually think he was training me in his field of study: wearing a lab coat and a pair of goggles, I would assist him in whatever way he requested, mostly mixing beakers and measuring out ingredients. Though I never saw his test subjects, possibly because he didn't want me to, many of the things we mixed were particularly nasty, such as a potion to separate the skin from the flesh. He taught me the various properties of the ingredients as we went along, occasionally testing me to see if I'd listened... but I guess bioneurological chemistry isn't my best subject: I pretty often answered wrong, to his extreme displeasure. But really, in all honesty, Mr Frog isn't a very good teacher. He expects me to know things without him explaining them first, and gets annoyed when he has to.

    Following our typically late lunch, and all the way until he sent me to bed at nine o' clock, I studied, and I learned so,  so much... for a girl who dearly loves books, the latter half of my days were a paradise. I sat at his desktop computer for hours on end, poring over article after article until my eyes ached. I learned about physics and electricity, different races I'd never heard of, the ways of Ballpoint and Parasol, but more than anything else, I learned about technology. It wasn't actually magic, but at first, it did feel like it... had I come across it a few years before, I would've probably believed it was.
    I learned about vehicles and weapons, how computers work, retinal scanners, thermal crystals, electric generators, different types of drives, robots - anything and everything... it was a whole world I'd never known existed.
    Actually, it technically doesn't exist... well, not in this world, anyway... we haven't invented it yet for ourselves. Mr Frog says there are seven dimensions: X,Y and Z are the first three - your location in space. Then there's Time, #4, and then there's Alternate Timelines(#5) and Parallel Universes(#6). Messing with the last three can be dangerous and create paradoxes and time loops (and is actually against interdimensional law, according to what I've read), but the final dimension is where Ballpoint and Parasol are located: space-time "bubbles". Basically, they’re artificial universes. Mr Frog says it doesn't count as an actual dimension in his opinion, and ought to be classified as #5.1 instead of #7, but he's not in charge of that.

    It felt like living in the best fairy tale ever.

~~~

    My structured schedule continued until one day after Mr Frog came back from his work. "Come here, stupid girl," he ordered, walking in the door with a small wooden bin. He cleared a space on one of his cluttered tables and sat it down. "Stupid girl" was his nickname for me, and he clearly felt I'd more than earned it. I was used to it by then, and there were a lot of worse things he could've called me, anyway.
    I walked over curiously. "What's going on?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't take too long to explain. I badly wanted to get back to reading about particle physics.
    As he spoke, he laid out several dark gray garments on the table, along with a couple pieces of computer equipment and some oddly shaped mechanical devices. "I'm getting annoyed with the constant breaches in Spearbreakers security, and I fear it won't be long until Ballpoint launches an actual attack on me. I think... I think you might be just about ready for the assignment. As a result, I'm sending you to Ballpoint Technologies." He didn't sound very sure of my abilities, and that didn't exactly help my confidence.
    "Today?" I asked in dismay. Unlike him, I was sure I wasn't ready.
    "Of course today, why else would I be bringing you this equipment?" was his terse reply. "I measured, and as I suspected, my old Ballpoint suit would be too large for you, even with adjustments made, so I had to custom-order a new one. Never mind where it came from."
    "You are unusually tall for a dwarf," I noted with a mischievous smile.
    He only grunted in displeasure. His height was a subject he didn't particularly enjoy, and his response could've almost been out of spite at my comment: "I'm going to have to give you a haircut. You clearly haven't had one in forever, and nobody's going to believe that you work for Ballpoint with it reaching halfway down your back, well-brushed or not."
    I recoiled, backing away from him and putting my hands on my beanie as if to protect my hair. I'd been growing it since even before I was a teenager, and I was proud of how long it was. More importantly, I really didn't trust him with a pair of scissors. "No, you can't touch it!" I protested. "I'll just pin it all up under my beanie; nobody will notice!"
    "You can't wear your beanie there," he retorted. He began to assemble a few pieces of machinery, tubes flopping about like tentacles. "People would notice you - hats aren't something normally seen at Ballpoint."
    "Helmets are!" I argued, still adamant that he wouldn't touch my hair. "I read that on your computer. I'll wear a helmet, and you won't have to touch my hair!"
    "Ha!" he said, unamused. "Only contractors and guards wear helmets, and Carena is a spy."
    "But my ears!"
    "Are something normally seen at Ballpoint - they have a number of elves employed, among other sharp-eared species," he finished for me, picking up the dark grey suit and holding it out with the command, "Go try this on."
    Twisting my lip, I snatched it from him and stormed off to my room, closing the door behind me. As I slipped out of my lab clothes and into the suit, I tried to formulate some sort of plan to keep him from cutting my hair. Unfortunately, it wasn't long before I was more occupied with noticing how tight-fitting the Ballpoint clothes were: it seemed to hug my legs and body, and the fabric definitely wasn't made of pigtail fiber - it actually looked somewhat shiny. I'd never seen anything like it before; fabric wasn't something Mr Frog had wanted me to study.
    Though the majority of the suit was a dark gray, the seams were dark blue. Several areas were reinforced on the inside (and that's as much as I'll go into that, in case Mr Frog reads this), but the sleeves at the lower arms were somewhat enlarged. In a show of defiance, I made sure I put my beanie back on before I left the room.

    I walked back to him, feeling almost naked - when you wear heavier clothing and then wear something light, I guess you'd feel that way anyway, but it felt so... alien. It almost felt like I wasn't wearing anything, though in actuality, I was fully covered from my ankles all the way to my neck.
    "Hold still," Mr Frog ordered, putting a hand on my arm to bring me to a halt. As he walked around me, looking me over with a sort of bland approval, I felt color rise to my cheeks. "Excellent," he said dryly. "A perfect fit. Ballpoint spy suits are designed for agility, which you should find preferential. Come, follow me."
    We walked over to the table with the wooden bin, and he turned, grabbing my right arm and holding it upwards as he inserted the tubed machinery into my sleeve. "I'm not sending you in there unarmed," he explained as he worked. "I tested this earlier today during a small goblin raid, though my dratted dwarven crossbow failed. Shoddy manufacturing, I would say - during his reign, I warned Paintbrushturkey not to draft the better mechanics - such as myself - into the army, but he stubbornly refused to comply."
    "What is it?" I asked, as he inserted a second one into my left sleeve.
    "It's an invention of mine. It pumps a sodium thiopental mixture through elastic tubing directly into the target's bloodstream, rendering them unconscious almost immediately. You do remember what sodium thiopental is, correct?"
    It caught me off guard, and I wracked my brain to think of the answer. Sadly, I wasn't quick enough, and he pursed his lips in disapproval. "Stupid girl," he muttered. "Just make sure they're not already about to kill you when you use it, and you'll be fine. To fire, just flick your wrist upwards in the way that Spiderman does."
    "Who?"
    Mr Frog grimaced. "Never mind." He lowered my arms and patted my sleeves to make sure it wasn't too obvious the weapons were there. "Just don't flick your wrist unless you're trying to knock someone out, and stand close to compensate for the limited range. Also, it's not very accurate."
    I nodded absentmindedly, thinking. "Why don't you just use those tripwire dart traps you made, but without the tripwire?"
    "Because, that -" he began, but stopped midsentence. I could almost see the gears whirring in his mind as he thought about it. "Actually... that might work..." he said slowly, nodding cautiously with a raised eyebrow. "I'll have to look into that... it would definitely solve the range and accuracy problems, but sodium thiopental wouldn't work quickly enough with the smaller dosage. Still, excellent idea, Vanya..."
    I smiled. His approval wasn't something I received often.
    Suddenly he snatched the beanie from the top of my head, picking up a comb and pair of scissors from the table. "Now, let's get to work on that hair."
    "No!" I begged. "Please, I'll just tuck it into the Ballpoint suit, nobody will notice!"
    He actually laughed. "Ha! Contrary to your severely mistaken opinion, everyone would notice. Turn around."

    And so Mr Frog cut my hair, mumbling to himself from time to time about how it "wasn't perfect yet", while my hair was steadily clipped shorter and shorter. It took him quite a while to be satisfied, during which I shed more than a single tear, but he finally, finally finished. "Just a few inches past the shoulders... It's actually passable, for my first attempt, I believe," he said proudly, walking around me and admiring his handiwork. The words "passable for my first attempt" brought a few extra tears to my eyes, and I dreaded seeing how I looked. I especially didn't want to look at the floor: I was afraid I'd break down if I saw how much he'd cut off. But he seemed pleased with it, stepping back and looking me over with a smile. He stood there for a moment, his eyes seeming to glaze over as if lost in thought, as if reliving a memory of a different time.
    I felt my cheeks redden again as he looked me up and down. He noticed, and the smile vanished. "You're going to need to quit that infernal blushing. That, more than anything else, will give you away. Other than that, you look like a normal Ballpoint employee now. Nobody will give you as much as a second glance."
    I was upset, and for good reason. He'd just cut away at one of the few things I'd held dear. "How am I supposed to stop blushing?" I asked incredulously. "It's not exactly something I can control!"
    "Incorrect!" he stated coldly, walking over to the little wooden bin. "Everything can be controlled with practice. Well -" Mr Frog halted suddenly, sporting a thoughtful expression. "Actually, typical dwarven stupidity might be an exception to that, but your blushing can be avoided simply by keeping your mind on your assignment. You do remember everything I instructed you to do, yes?"
    I nodded, and he walked back to me with a little card, putting it in my hand. I recognized what it was immediately - I'd studied it in one of the articles on Mr Frog's computer. It was an identification card; a forgery of Carena's real one, with my picture instead of hers. It had a very official appearance. Looking up again, I saw Mr Frog standing at his transdimensional portal, pulling levers and pressing buttons.
    "Come on!" he urged. The wooden frame of the hoop telescoped into a tall oval, the air within appearing to coalesce and ripple like water, the same way as I'd seen when Carena herself had passed through. It wasn't without a twinge of fear that I thought about it: Just on the other side, it wasn't Spearbreakers anymore, but Ballpoint - enemy territory.
    "Just step through when you're ready, but best to do it quickly," Mr Frog said loudly over the whirring, buzzing noise it produced. "Avoid retinal scanners if at all possible; they'll give you away immediately. I don't have schematics of their headquarters, but as far as I remember this should drop you right in the middle of the storage area! Just accomplish your objective and hurry back!" Saying this, he slipped a circular device off the console - a return portal activation bracelet. According to what I'd read, without it, I wouldn't be able to get back.
    "What if I'm not ready??" I asked worryingly, slowly backing away from the rippling light. "I may look like a Ballpoint employee - in your opinion, anyway - but I don't know how to act like one!"
    "Common sense, stupid girl! Common sense." he said reproachfully, walking over and grabbing my arm to pull me towards the portal. "Also, don't talk to anyone you don't have to. Now get through there before you terrify yourself through overthinking everything!"
    He placed the bracelet in my hand, and sent me through the portal with a shove. For a moment, everything went black, and I felt a broken, twisting sensation, almost as if I was a pencil seen through a glass of water. Then, just as quickly, it was over, and I had my first glimpse of the inside of Ballpoint Technologies.

☆

[Talvieno]

An example of a Ballpoint contractor/mercenary, along with their insignia. Art by Splint.

Chapter 17: Enemy Territory
This is a quality hard-bound journal. On the item is an image of a five-pointed star in imitation gold leaf. The star is glinting on the cover. The image relates to the painting of a star in imitation gold leaf on the cover of Vanya's third journal, "The Journal of Employment", in the early spring of 207. This item menaces with sheets of parchment.

    Instants after materializing in another universe, I almost fell off a ledge. Despite Mr Frog's "superior intellect", I almost died, and I'd only just gotten there.
    Leaning back with my arms to regain my balance, I sat down carefully to avoid falling, and took a good look around. I was sitting on a narrow, perforated steel walkway, at what seemed to be fifty feet above a massive garage area. Parked below me were rows upon rows of tanks and trucks - vehicles that required neither yak nor horse to move. Scattered among them I could see a good number of Ballpoint employees wandering about their business, unaware that I sat high above, watching. It felt impossibly bizarre to be seeing these things firsthand, as I'd only learned of their existence a few weeks before. It actually felt akin to a dream - one of those strange ones where you wake up and think, "where did all that weird stuff come from?"
    I tried to take it all in, assuring my disbelieving mind that it was real, and I wasn't imagining things, but that only seemed to make it worse. Lightheaded, I tried to stand and stumble back to the portal, but unhappily discovered that it'd already closed.
    I was on my own.

    The garage looked old and battle-worn, with scorch marks, rust, and bullet indentations adorning the iron walls. Everything was out in the open - the metal crossbeams, vent pipes, even electrical cables - it had a very utilitarian feel to it. Girders adorned the ceiling above me, and framework steel pillars stretched downwards from them to the floor.
    Without warning, the huge wall to my right began to transform, and I jumped in startlement, almost falling off my perch. The wall seemed to wash itself away, revealing a grim, dark landscape, dotted with dead and rotting trees and scattered magma flows. I stared at the dismal scene in amazement, guessing that I was gazing through a portal, hundreds of times bigger than any I'd ever read about.
    As I watched, several of the vehicles below me started, driving out of the garage and into that other, strange world - which honestly looked much homelier than Spearbreakers'. Then, just as quickly as it had opened, the great doorway closed again, and all that was left was a great, blank wall.

    I made up my mind then to get moving. I had no idea where I was, I was terrified, bewildered, and awestruck all at once, and at the same time, I knew I had to hurry... it wasn't a good combination for me, but it made me very, very badly want to get home. I couldn't do that until I accomplished my mission. What complicated things the most was the fact that Mr Frog obviously hadn't put me where he'd wanted to.
    Slipping on the little bracelet he'd shoved unceremoniously into my hand, I started forwards along the walkway, heading away from the portal wall and hoping I was going the right direction.
    As I reached the end, a metal door split in the middle, sliding apart and revealing a long hallway. After hesitating for a moment, I walked through, worried they might slam shut as I came between them... but no such thing happened. The hallway on the other side looked newer than the garage, its metal surfaces free of rust or dent, and somehow it felt even more alien.
    I was inside Ballpoint, wholly and utterly alone.

    As I walked cautiously through the trapezoidal corridor, trying not to stare at the bare electric lights that lined the sides, I tried to plan what my next move would be. "Get to the storage warehouses as quickly as possible," I remembered Mr Frog instructing me. "All the buildings are connected by concrete-covered walkways due to the radiation-contaminated environment outside, so you shouldn't have to worry about finding the right one." The problem was, I had no idea where I was, or how to even get to the storage warehouses.
    Ahead of me, the corridor split, and a helmeted guard walked in my direction, a gun clearly visible in his hands. It was the first gun I'd ever seen, and it immediately put me on edge... but even worse, he seemed to notice my uneasiness.
    "State your business!" he ordered, quickening his pace. "This is a restricted area!" He wore full armor: dark gray, thick, ribbed stuff that caught light rather than reflecting it, likely made out of materials I'd never even heard of. It didn't look as strong as adamantine, but it looked a lot lighter than steel.
    For a moment I stood dumbstruck in terror, sure he was going to kill me. As his words slowly registered in my mind, I pulled out the little ID card and held it up to him. "I'm Vanya Carena," I managed, "I guess the portal put me in the wrong place." I tried to act casual, but inside, I was trembling.
    With armored fingers, he took the identification card carefully from my hand and looked at it through his black-glassed visor. After what seemed ages, he glanced back at my face. "Vanya Carena, Level 3 spy?"
    I nodded, swallowing. "I was wondering if you could help me... I'm trying to get to the storage district, and I'm not too sure where I am."
    "No problem, little mix ups like this happen on occasion." He handed my ID card back and pointed behind him with his weapon. "Keep going that way, sweetheart, first corridor to the right, and just keep walking."
    I smiled, almost sighing with relief. "Thank you so much," I said gratefully. I hadn't expected him to be so friendly.
    As I passed him and continued down the hallway, I could almost feel his eyes on me. I'm not sure if it was my imagination or not, but when I reached the corner and turned, I thought I heard him wolf whistle...

    The corridor continued onwards, occasionally turning or splitting at an intersection. It should've been more than enough time to calm my beating heart, but the chance meeting with the guard had fully impressed upon me just how much danger I was in by simply being at Ballpoint Tech, and I was even more worried about my safety than before. If it hadn't been for the cooled air of the tunnels, I'm sure I would've been sweating.
    Finally the trapezoidal hallway ended at a door. As I approached, it slid open, and I almost cried out in dismay at what I saw.

    It was a giant open area like the garage, but instead of vehicles, I saw row after row of short, square buildings, separated by empty walkways. Through the door of the nearest I could see several bunk beds and cabinets lined up against the walls.
    Among the buildings, soldiers milled around in their dark gray armor, going about their business. If the guard I'd passed could be trusted, I was going to have to walk right down the middle of it all.
    Biting my lip, I took a deep breath and started through the door, encouraging myself as best I could with Mr Frog's words: "You look like a normal Ballpoint employee now. Nobody will give you as much as a second glance."
    It soon became clear that this wasn't the case.
    As I walked forwards, holding my head high and trying to act like I had a reason to be there, I heard men whispering among themselves as I passed, and occasionally they laughed rowdily after I'd gone. I felt it was at me, but I made up my mind to ignore it and hurry to the other side of the room, just to get it all over with. I tried to imagine that they always did that, and that it wasn't at me at all, but the occasional whistle I heard wasn't helping my self-imposed illusion... and then something happened that put the possibility of coincidence completely out of my mind.
    Just as I neared the other side of the room, I jumped as I felt someone roughly slap my behind. My first impression was again that I wasn't wearing anything, and I felt color rushing to my face, but this time it wasn't simply embarrassment - it was partially out of anger. I spun and found myself looking at the grinning face of a muscled soldier.
    "Hey, baby," he crooned with a wink, as if his behavior was perfectly acceptable. "Wanna go out and get a drink after my shift?" Behind him, his buddies laughed and elbowed each other.
    My hand moved to where he'd hit me as I stared at him in openmouthed shock. I could hardly believe anyone could be so rude. "Of course I don't!" I managed to gasp out, backing away from him and his group.
    He grinned wider, as if he enjoyed my reaction. "Oh ho ho, playing hard to get, are we? Daddy likes." He approached me, giving me a dirty look amidst his comrades' encouraging jeers.
    I continued backing away, scared out of my wits for my safety. I was unsure of what to say or do, and sweating in earnest now. Mr Frog hadn't said anything like this could happen - he'd said nobody would notice me; that I wouldn't stand out at all. I'd rather have shoved myself into any little tunnel than go through something like this, and I was hyperventilating with fear, afraid of what they'd do to me.
    It wasn't long before I found myself backed against a wall, as my antagonists slowly closed in, inappropriately casting their eyes over my body.
    "And what's a pretty girl like you doing in our neck of the woods, hm?" the man asked rhetorically with a deliberate lick of the lips. "Love that sexy getup. Mmm, mmm, mmm."
    "Get away from me!" I cried out loudly in a panic, swatting away one of their hands. "Don't touch me! Get away!"
    My cries were answered by a yell to my left. "Hey, leave her alone!"
    The soldiers backed up a few steps, craning their necks to look past each other in the direction of the voice. Between them I could see a heavily-armored female approaching at a brisk pace. "Get away from her boys, you heard her," she said with a roll of her eyes.
    With some grumbling, they obeyed, turning and ambling away, chuckling to themselves and stealing glances at me over their shoulders.

    I relaxed my tensed muscles a bit, closing my eyes and breathing an actual sigh of relief. My heartbeat still raced, but at least it was over. I almost broke down and started crying.
    "Hey, you all right?" my savior asked, and I looked up at her face. She was human, clearly, and she looked a little amused. The collar of her dark-gray armor sported a name in white letters: Bugi. "Not smart for you to be wandering around in here. Carena, right?"
    I hesitated for a moment. "That's right... Do you recognize me?"
    "I've seen you once or twice," she replied. "A girl like you tends to stand out around here. When I've seen you, you seemed to like the extra attention, but I guess we all have our bad days, right?"
    I nodded in response. This was really not a good day for me.
    "Thought so," she said with a knowing look. Then curiosity stole over her face, and she asked, "What are you doing down here in the barracks, anyway?"
    "I was just passing through," I explained, shrugging.
    Bugi raised an eyebrow at me. "Passing through? Barracks dead end, honey."
    "What??" I exclaimed in surprise. "I thought I was going towards the storage district... I asked a guard, and he -"
    She interrupted me with muffled laughter. "Heheheh! Could've guessed. Yeah, somebody played a little prank on you. Storage district, you say?"
    "That's right," I answered. "I'm honestly a little lost..."
    "Happens to the best of us." It sounded like a conversational lie, but her words following it heartened me: "I think I could spare a few minutes to get you pointed in the right direction - sound good?"
    I smiled with real joy: right in the middle of enemy territory, I'd found a real friend, like a ray of sunshine in a darkened cave. "Yes, and thank you! ...and thank you for keeping those men off of me."
    She was already walking back the way I'd come, motioning for me to follow. "Not a problem, honey!" she said over her shoulder, and I hurried after her to keep pace.

    As we walked back through the barracks, huge lights among the scaffolding twenty feet above casting faint shadows between the low buildings, no one dared stop us or even whistle. Apparently Bugi had earned a great deal of respect from the men: a single glare from her was all it took to send them slinking back into the shadows. For the first time since I'd arrived, I felt safe.
    She moved quickly, taking powerful strides with her longer legs. I had to rush to keep up with her, and it wasn't long before we reached the end of the barracks, choosing a different corridor than the one I'd entered through. The tubular lights on the walls seemed to fly by with a purpose as we turned through different intersections; Bugi knew the hallways well.


    Finally, she stopped, and I almost bumped into her. "Far as I'm taking you, Carena," she said, turning to me. "Warehouse is just up ahead and to your left, can't miss it." This said, she turned and left at an equally brisk pace.
    I'd hardly remembered my manners before she was already turning the corner. "Thank you!" I called after her, but I wasn't sure she even heard. She wasn't doing it for thanks or profit, but only for the principle - like a true friend. For a moment I regretted that I'd never see her again, but that faded away as it was replaced by new worries: I wouldn't stand a chance without Bugi if there were soldiers in the warehouse, and they treated me the same as the ones in the barracks had.

    A memory of Urist's voice came unbidden to my mind: "Fear doesn't make you weak. Courage is doing something brave, even when you're scared. Being afraid keeps you sharp - it keeps you alive." Maybe I'd never see him again, but he still had a special place in my heart. He always would. If you really care about someone, you never stop.
    I had to be brave. "If not for me, then for Urist," I whispered, and my own words seemed to bring me confidence as I heard them.
    Gritting my teeth, I stepped forwards firmly with all the purpose of a charging bull, my eyes fixed on a point at the end of the hallway. Mr Frog wanted his PEA, and Armok be damned if he wasn't going to get it.
    If Urist could've seen me, I'm sure he would've been proud.

    I turned the corner to the left and found myself facing an open area. At the far wall was a row of closed double doors, patrolled by a single guard who was walking away from me down the line. As the guard passed in front of the doors, they didn't open like the others at Ballpoint had, and I realized they must be either locked or opened manually. I halted for a moment, then stepped forwards, my dark boots clipping across the floor as I walked forwards. I'd shoved everything else out of my mind; I was going to succeed for Urist.
    And then my thoughts began to wander... one of the hazards of thinking of the one you care most about. I began to fantasize about what would happen if I succeeded: maybe Mr Frog would allow me to leave, and I could go and be with Urist again...
    My mind was still half on my fantasies when I tapped the guard on the shoulder from behind.

    The guard turned to me. "Yes?" It was a female's voice, though coarse. "Do you need assistance?"
    I nodded. "I need to get in there," I told her, pointing at the row of doors. "Do you think you could help?" I was on a roll - nothing could stop me...
    ...Except for her response. "Where's your access key?" she asked expectantly.
    It threw me completely for a loop, and my mind slowly drifted from my castles in the clouds to the present situation as I puzzled over what she'd said. "Acc... Access key?"
    "Yeah, your access key." Her voice took on a suspicious tone. "It's required for entrance... Don't you know that?"
    "I..." I paused, lost for words. My eyes glanced away at the row of locked doors, bordered by little pads of buttons. "I... It's my first time being sent down here..."
    "Key's required for entrance, inserted in a keypad. Can't get in otherwise." She sounded extremely suspicious now, and I could imagine her eyes narrowing at me from behind her visor. "Who sent you down?"
    I didn't have an answer. "Um... I... I don't know, someone told me to retrieve something for them and bring it back." I knew I wasn't a good liar, and she could probably tell. I was beginning to panic, fright clutching at me and forming into a knot in my throat.
    She shook her head, light glinting on her helmet. "That's against company protocol. What's your operating number? And what's your name? I have to report this."
    "Report it??" I exclaimed in shock. I was trapped - hopelessly ensnared. Thoughts poured through my mind as my train of thought crossed from one rail to the next. There was no way I'd be able to escape, and even if I tried to run, she'd be more than capable of gunning me down. I'd never see Urist again, I'd never see Spearbreakers - I'd never even see Mr Frog again, and I honestly preferred seeing him again than the possibility of torture, or worse, imprisonment with Ballpoint offenders. If sexual harassment was overlooked at Ballpoint as normal, I couldn't imagine what terrible crimes someone would have to commit to be considered a criminal. The men in the barracks hadn't given it a second thought, and nobody would've stopped them if I hadn't cried out for help.
    Suddenly an idea sprang forth from my bewildered mind. It was sketchy at best, I knew, and my voice faltered as I spoke. "Why would you have to report it?" I asked her plaintively. "Isn't this the barracks? I'm just supposed to be fetching a helmet from someone's bunk!"
    The moment it was out of my mouth, I was sure it would never work, but contrary to that belief, it did.
    She laughed rudely. "Barracks? You're new here, then." She grabbed my shoulder and spun me around, pointing back the way I'd come. "They're that way, kid. Somebody just pranked you. I'd do it, too... if I was off-duty." Her voice took on a cruel, boisterous tone as she said this last, and she shoved me forwards roughly. "Now get on out. Learn to use maps, kid."


    I was safe, but also devastated. As I walked back through the hallways, it wasn't long before I realized I was also utterly lost - there was no way I'd be able to figure out how to get back to Bugi, much less the garage. I tried finding a set of stairs to get to the roof, but I found nothing but corridor after corridor, their ribbed walls sloping inwards towards the ceiling. Finally I gave up, wandering aimlessly about the Ballpoint infrastructure, wondering how I'd ever escape. A few times I passed a guard, but with my head downcast they took little notice of me, walking by without so much as a glance. I was walking in circles, and I knew it, but I didnt know how to stop.

    After a time, I remembered the bracelet Mr Frog had put into my hand, and I looked at my wrist - it was still there. Though I hated to go back empty-handed, I didn't see what else there was I could do. I'd done my very best, I figured; Mr Frog had simply expected too much from me.
    After all the guards were out of sight, I slipped the lightweight device off my hand and held it up, pressing the little silver button on the side. As I watched, the air inside the empty circle rippled with a quiet, high-pitched buzzing sound. It was sending my coordinates back to Mr Frog's portal - it was an old invention of his, and he'd explained how it worked. Unfortunately, moments later, the bracelet quieted, and the air within it stilled.
    I freaked out. "It broke?!?" I exclaimed in dismay. "How could it break?! Now I'll never be able to leave, and -"
    My panicking was interrupted by a quiet hum, as the air before me shivered, shuddering into a mirroring pool of water, ovoid and reaching almost to the ceiling.
    I stared at it for a minute, open-mouthed, my last words hanging in the air. "...Oh," I managed, feeling stupid. I stepped through it almost eagerly, unafraid of the strange twisting sensations this time. I was ready to go home.

~~~

    "Are you serious?" Mr Frog was fuming with rage, pacing rapidly about the room like a growing thundercloud. "Stupid, stupid girl! You accomplished nothing! Did you not bother to consider pickpocketing a key before you blithely ran away, ecstatic with the expectation of returning to your squalid little world? Skulkers are thieves by nature; no complications should have existed during your assignment!"
    "We'll just try again!" I insisted. "I'll do better next time, I promise!"
    "There might not even be a 'next time'! With your notably abnormal behavior they could possibly detain you for questioning and mental examination if I send you there again!"
    "I could've gotten sexually assaulted in the barracks!" I cried out in protest, tears in my eyes. I'd never seen him so angry before. "You said nobody would notice me, but everybody did! Everybody was looking at me, and it's all because of this ridiculous suit you made me wear!"
    "It's Ballpoint protocol for employed spies to wear that same highly dexterous apparel! Now cease bemoaning your previous plight, it's irrelevant!"
    "Just because you don't have any concept of sexuality doesn't mean -" I stopped in fright as Mr Frog stormed over to where I stood, his lips twisting threateningly with a controlled wrath as he glared in contempt, towering above me.
    Mr Frog stopped, his face inches from mine. With his furrowed brow, bushy beard and well-trimmed hair, he looked fiercer than a wild elephant as he spoke slowly, threateningly: "Don't ever question my character again."
    I stared at him in terror, biting my lip and trying to back away, but he grabbed my arm and held me close to keep me still. My arm began to ache from his firm grip - I felt my hand going numb as in a low voice, he growled an ominous warning: "It will be the last mistake you make."
    I heard myself whimper in fear, and he shoved me away roughly in disgust, turning away. I stumbled backwards, tripping over my boots and falling to the ground as he stalked towards the door, his hands clasped behind his cloak. It was only then that I remembered: Ballpoint had questioned his character, and he'd left them; he'd made them regret it. There must be something in his past... someone he cared about who'd accused his character, maybe. Something must’ve made him that way, and for a moment, I wanted to understand who he really was.

    My thoughts were broken as he turned to me abruptly, his hands still clasped behind his back. "Put on some regular clothing. We're going somewhere tonight." His voice was calm again - almost portentous.
    I got to my feet in surprise. "Going somewhere?? We've never gone anywhere before..."
    "No, we haven't," he agreed. "But tonight will be different. I had a second plan in case you didn't succeed, though I didn't expect you to fail so miserably. Nevertheless, it needs to be put into effect."
    I looked away. If he'd meant for me to feel ashamed, it'd worked. "What?" I asked, prompting him. "What is it?"
    "None of your concern," he said in a slightly raised voice, unclasping his hands and heading for the door. "Meet me in the workshops in precisely twenty minutes, and make sure your ears are covered." With this, he left, closing the door behind him.


    The suit was a bit of a pain to get back out of, but I finally managed, folding it and putting it away. Before long I was fully dressed in my normal clothes, ready to leave. I checked the clock on the wall - dwarves didn't make clocks, but Mr Frog had taught me to read them anyway - I still had five minutes.
    I left Mr Frog's laboratory with a quickened step, trying to get to the workshops before the five minutes were up. Unlike him, I didn't own a wristwatch, but I thought I could estimate the passing of time well enough on my own.

    A few minutes later, I arrived, opening yet another one of the many doors and walking in amidst the hustle and bustle of dwarves going about their work. It wasn't long before I spotted Mr Frog, sitting at a table with two other dwarves.
    My heart skipped a beat as I realized who they were: it was Urist and Hans! A giant smile broke over my face - it was by far the best thing that'd happened all day, and possibly all week! I rushed over and threw my arms around them in delight - first Urist, then Hans, and they returned my embraces gladly.
    "Strange," Mr Frog said dryly, sipping from his mug, "I never get that response from her. I must assume you are already on friendly terms, unless all elves are that enthusiastic about meeting dwarves." He glared at me icily for a moment, as if reminding me he hadn't forgotten about my little misadventure. "I'll be expecting the three of you in my room tomorrow morning, as the sun rises. You don't have much of the day left, so I would recommend you get some sleep soon." Then, he stood and left, his cloak billowing gently behind him as it caught the musty air.

    I turned back to Urist. "I'd thought I wouldn't see you again - I'm so glad you're doing all right!" I exclaimed. He smiled, and I felt myself melting in his gaze.
    "It is good to see you, too," he responded with a smile.
    "Glad t'see ya in such high spirits, missus!" Hans said with a nod. "Mr Frog's been explainin' some stuff to us - he said you might oughta explain it a little better."
    I looked at them curiously - first one, then the other, searching their faces for answers - I didn't understand what they meant.
    Urist seemed to notice. "Mr Frog said we would be on a mission together. He implied you would be better able to teach us." He raised an eyebrow at me.
    I blushed and looked away, embarrassed. "Mr Frog's not a very good teacher, no," I said. Then, as the rest of what he'd said sank in, my eyes widened, and I gaped at him in disbelief. "Wait, a mission together?? Both - all three of us??"
    In response to my question, Urist nodded. I laughed with joy and excitement, my voice ringing clearly through the halls of the mighty fortress. I felt blissful - bliss is the only word that could describe it.
    Urist smiled at my joy, and told me, "That is what he said. He also mentioned disguises and advanced technology... Do you know what he could mean?"
    I hesitated for a moment, but then realized that Mr Frog had clearly wanted me to sum up my knowledge. If I was going on a mission with Urist and Hans back to Ballpoint, they would need to know quite a few things so they understood what was going on. I was so excited; I hardly knew where to begin. "All right," I started, calming myself down, though the smile never went away, "First, you're going to need to ignore everything you think you know about science, and keep an open mind..."

    I knew right then that I would love being a teacher.

☆

[Talvieno]

Chapter 18: Jealousy
Vanya's flowing script continues on the following pages, but your mind is preoccupied with something else: what language did the soldiers of Ballpoint speak? Vanya, by her own admission, was bilingual - she knew dwarven and elvish. In the previous journal she'd proved it, writing in two different languages. You put the book down for a moment, musing. Vanya had been able to converse with the Ballpoint soldiers she'd mentioned in the previous entry, so despite largely being human, they either spoke dwarven or elvish. After further thought, you decide that it must have been dwarven: after all, why would Mr Frog bother sending Urist and Hans there if they couldn't speak the language? Satisfied with your conclusion, you pick the journal back up and begin to read.

    Usually, everything feels better when you're not doing it alone. It's always nice to have a friend by your side, or be able to show someone what you've accomplished. Or even just to have someone with you as you die. Loneliness is a depressing feeling to have, but if you feel supported by your friends, you feel as though you can accomplish everything. This goes for all sentient races, and not just dwarves: elves, humans, and mountain barbarians feel that way too. Even goblins would rather not be alone, as they enjoy bragging and showing off their war trophies. In a way, we're all the same: we're social creatures. We need each other to be happy.

    ...Except for the Spawn of Holistic. Unlike the rest of us, they don't really care if anyone of their race knows of their triumphs... All they want to do is kill. It doesn't matter if their killing makes a difference; it doesn't matter if the people they're killing were going to die anyway. Maybe it's not really a want, and it's a need - maybe they need to kill: they don't seem to have a choice, anyway. The moment they turn from sentience to the wretched monsters that they are, they become pure evil - with no exceptions. There's just no such thing as a "good" Spawn.

    But then there's another race that's born evil: the goblins. From the moment they set foot in this world, opening their little eyes for the first time, they're evil. Somehow, it doesn't seem fair... They don't really have a choice in it. Like the Spawn, it's almost like they're forced to be evil. For the rest of us, we start out neutral and choose our path, but goblins...
    And what if a goblin saw how much harm he was causing and didn't like it? What if he wanted to stop hurting and start helping others instead? He'd be put to death for heresy by his own society, all because he wanted to make his own decisions. It's unfair, in the end... and in a way, I can't help but feel sorry for them.
    All the same... at least they enjoy the company of those they're with.

~~~

    It was early morning, and I was getting dressed in my hated Ballpoint spysuit. I was sleepy, and my eyes were still a little blurry. I'm not much of a morning person, and I'd much rather sleep in, but Mr Frog had woken me up, saying I needed to be ready "early" today. In my opinion, six o' clock is already too early. Five is ridiculous.
    I'd spent the evening before teaching Urist and Hans about technology and Ballpoint, and they'd listened to every word I said. It was funny, watching the looks of disbelief and uncertainty on their faces. Urist in particular looks cute when he's confused; sometimes I just wanted to laugh tackle him with a hug.
    But they were coming! Urist, Hans and I were going on a mission together, and I was so excited. I almost dropped my hairbrush a couple times as I stood at the mirror, brushing it carefully. I'd seen how Urist was looking at me the night before - he liked me. I was almost sure of it. Now I was fantasizing about how I could let him know that I felt the same way.
    I was actually looking at my hair without feeling regret at what Mr Frog had done to it.

    I'd been ecstatic lately.


    A buzzer sounded, echoing through my little bedroom. The walls are soundproof - the only way that Mr Frog could let me know he wanted me was either to open the door (and risk my being less than decent), or sound the buzzer. Usually he didn't care either way, but somehow I felt that my friends had arrived. With a few extra brushes to my hair, trying to arrange it as best I could for Urist's sake, I left the mirror and walked towards the door.
    I paused at my beanie as I passed it, wondering whether I should put it on... I couldn't wear it at Ballpoint, but I didn't want to remind Urist that I was an elf, either... I was ashamed of my ears, anyway.
    The buzzer sounded again, interrupting my thoughts. "Fine!" I yelled pointlessly, pushing the button beside the door. The wall slid away, revealing the faces of three dwarves: Mr Frog, Hans... and Urist.
    Urist and Hans had a couple of Mr Frog's special weapons slung over their backs: Urist had a sawpike, and Hans had a "buzzhammer", which is like a warhammer, except it has a buzzsaw blade at one of the flat ends. The extent of their disguise was how they were both wearing dark gray clothes: Ballpoint's color. They didn't have to wear a tight, skinny outfit.
    But that last detail was lost on me as I smiled at them happily, lost in my fantasies, unsure of what to do.

    Mr Frog quickly answered that question for me. "Get over here, stupid girl," he ordered brusquely, walking over to the hallway door. "I've got an errand to run; I'll be back in a moment. Take the opportunity to say hello, or whatever it is you socialites do." With that, he was gone.
    I walked towards the middle of the room, stopping short before the little table-lined walkway where Urist. "Hi!" I said with a smile, my eyes lingering on Urist. His eyes met mine, and I looked away, embarrassed.
    "You didn't cover your ears this time..." he said thoughtfully.
    I blushed and wished I could turn invisible. "I'm sorry," I began apologetically, "I'd cover them if I could, but -"
    Urist interrupted, trying to ease my thoughts. "It's all right, Vanya. I don't mind." He hesitated for a moment, and ventured, "You look nice."
    Basking in the compliment, I looked at him, meeting his gaze. "Really?" I tried to smile as prettily as I could, hoping for more.

    Urist opened his mouth as if to speak, but before he could manage, Mr Frog burst back into the room. "That's taken care of!" he said, seemingly annoyed as he closed the door and stalked towards the portal machine. "Do you remember your mission objectives?"
    I followed him with my eyes and nodded, as he began to set the console for our journey. Mr Frog had rehearsed our objectives with me the night before. First, we were supposed to find an access card of a high enough level to allow us into the warehouses. After that, we were supposed to get Mr Frog's PEA and return. It all seemed very simple at the time...
    The portal hummed, and with a whish, the air within it coalesced again into a shimmering, rippling surface. The looks of surprise and wonderment on Hans' face almost made me laugh, but I kept quiet so as not to embarrass him. I think Urist saw me smiling, though.
    Mr Frog, however, didn't feel anything close to mirth as he saw Hans begin backing away. "No, you don't!" he said with a scowl, rushing over behind the giant of a dwarf and pushing him forwards with ease. "You have to get in there. Vanya, you go first! Lead them through so this buffoon doesn't get terrified and run out on us!"
    For a moment, I paused, struck by how similar in height Mr Frog was to Hans.
    "Move!" Mr Frog ordered. I felt my feet rushing me forwards towards the portal in response.
    Moments later, I felt my consciousness twisting as I traveled through nothingness.


    I "came to" in a dimly-lit, metal-clad room, illuminated only by one of Ballpoint's trademark trapezoidal corridors, visible through an open doorway. Except for the portal behind me, everything seemed quiet, and I stepped back and turned around to look at it in curiosity. I'd never seen someone exit a portal before, and I wondered how it would look.
    Urist appeared, first his leg and then the rest of him, as he stepped through at a brisk pace, gritting his teeth as if he felt he'd be ripped apart, or worse. My expression changed from curiosity to surprise as he ran into me, tripping and knocking us both to the icy metal of the floor.
    For a second I lay there, wondering what had happened, and why I felt a heavy weight pressing down on me. Against the cold floor, wearing Ballpoint's thin spy suit, I felt naked again. As my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, I began to make out the strong outline of Urist's lantern jaw, his face hovering inches above mine. Then it began to dawn on me - Urist was lying on top of me.
    "Ah! Get off!" I yelled in a panic, trying to get out from under him. My face burned in embarrassment. I liked him, yes, but we were sort of in an intimate position... too intimate for my tastes, really.
    He struggled to his feet in a hurry, trying not to step on me or trip over me again. I scooted backwards across the floor and got up.
    For a minute or so, we stood there awkwardly, trying to say something or explain, but not finding the right words. It was very... uncomfortable.
    "I didn't mean to fall on you," he finally said. He looked abashed by what he'd done, and I couldn't help but want to assure him that it wasn't really that big of a deal.
    "It's all right," I answered, almost whispering, getting to my feet. "It wasn't intentional. You didn't see me there, and I was in the way. It's my fault, really."
    "No, the fault is mine," he replied. "I should have been watching."
    I took a few steps closer, looking up into his eyes. "It's okay, really."
    For a moment, we stood there, looking at each other. Right then, I felt sure he cared about me; for a moment, I felt sure we were just about to kiss. My heart fluttered as if it'd grown wings, like I'd flown away to a dream world, and I tilted my lips up closer to him, almost begging for him to make a move.
    Without warning, there was a noise from behind him - heavy stomping boots and a loud "- but Mr Frog, I don't wanna go in -" that cut off abruptly as Hans plowed into both of us, knocking us down with me, once again, underneath.

    After we'd untangled ourselves and had apologized a second time (I couldn't help but glare at Hans for ruining our romantic moment), we assessed our situation. Mr Frog had already closed the portal from his side, and there was no going back through.
    "So... You've any idea where we are, missus?" Hans asked me, looking around the room.
    I shook my head, though I knew the gesture was barely visible. "There should be maps on the floors of the intersections - I saw them last time I was here. Once we get there, we can figure out where we are."
    Urist spoke. "Did Mr Frog inform you of where to find the access key?"
    "No..." I replied slowly, remembering. "He just said that only people who have them are higher-ranking officers."
    "Well," rumbled Hans, "let's go find one, then."
    We left the little room, and I led my friends through the hallways at a good pace.

    Once, I glanced backwards to see where they were, and to my relief they'd kept up. "We are still here," Urist said. "No need to check."
    I nodded absentmindedly. "There's an intersection in front of us, see?" I pointed ahead at where another hallway crossed ours. "On the floor in the middle there's a map; it should be marked with different places, and we'll be able to figure out where we are."
    "Oh, one of them 'you are here' maps, ya mean!" Hans said knowingly with a smile. "Spearbreakers don't have any of them."
    I started to laugh, but abruptly stopped: a dwarf-sized figure, clad in the heaviest armor I'd seen at Ballpoint, turned off the side hallway up ahead and started towards us.
    Consciously trying to look natural, I slowed my step a bit. "Just keep walking, don't look at him," I whispered to my companions, trying my best to act brave. I actually think I did a good job. "And don't attack; that gun he's carrying is huge. If it's a guard, he should just walk on by..."

    Unfortunately, that wasn't what happened at all. "Halt, state your business," ordered a woman's voice, as the helmet's visor lifted to reveal the face of a battle-scarred female. "I'll need to see your ID." She stopped a few meters in front of us, waiting expectantly.
    I got it out quickly, trying not to offer any resistance. I especially didn't want Hans or Urist to go battle-crazy. I wasn't sure if they would: we hadn't really gotten to that... "Vanya Carena," I said, holding out my little card. "I'm a -"
    "Level 3 spy," she interrupted with a glare. "Yes, don't look surprised, I know the uniforms' color code. You're supposed to be down at the southeast quadrant. Why are you over here?"
    I opened my mouth to speak, but Urist spoke as he stepped past me, arms folded. "Who wants to know?"
    The dwarven woman pulled herself up to her full height - several inches taller than me. "I'm Commander Acetalyta, it's my business to know," she said as she stared down at us.
    Urist looked over his shoulder at me with a smile. "Convenient," he murmured, and then turned again to face the commander.
    "Where's your identification?" she asked. "Don't you have it with you?"
    I didn't like Urist taking control - I was supposed to be in charge. "They're with me," I spoke up. At the same time, I was beginning to worry that our mission had already failed: The commander looked at us suspiciously as a result of my comment.
    Urist spoke again, calm and collected as ever as he stepped slowly closer to her. "We're on an assignment," he said. His voice was like chocolate. "But... if you would like..." he continued, almost seductively, "I could come back after it's done."
    I opened my mouth to protest, but couldn't produce a sound. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He was flirting with her!
    "Well..." she said slowly, her expression softening as a smile stole over it, "I think that might be against protocol..." She looked back at Hans for a moment. "I think I might have to take you two down to security."
    "Mmmm, sounds like she caught us," rumbled a voice I would've ordinarily found sexy, and I turned towards Hans in disbelieving surprise as he stepped past me to stand with Urist. "Guess you'll have t' take us in." They seemed to be in on whatever was happening, and "security" was obviously a poorly disguised metaphor.
    "Let's go, boys." Commander Acetalyta began walking down the hallway at a slower pace, swinging her hips with Hans and Urist close beside her. "You two are in biiiiggggg trouble," she crooned, and I almost vomited.
    "You can't go yet!" I protested, trying to keep my voice level. I wanted to yell at them for so many things, not the least of which was the fact that they were abandoning me.
    And then, Urist turned around and tossed a little card at me. "Don't wait up for us, Vanya," he said, winking as they turned the corner. He actually seemed to enjoy it.


    I was left alone in the hallway, standing silent, dimly aware of the passage of time. Finally, I shook my head in disbelief and bent down to the floor to pick up the little card Urist had tossed. I felt my heart soften slightly as I read the label: "Level 8 Security Key, Property of Commander Acetalyta." I had a way into the warehouse district... but at what cost?

    Dejectedly, I walked forwards to the intersection, reading the map on the floor. A bright blue "you are here" marked where I stood, and it wasn't difficult to tell the way to the warehouses. With an effort I started in that direction, but as I walked my mind began to wander, and I remembered what Urist had said only minutes before. He hadn't specifically flirted with her, but his seductive voice still lingered in my ears: "If you would like... I could come back after it's done." Even then, I could imagine him in a dark room with Acetalyta, his lips on her, her hands moving over his chest. It was horrid, and my vision blurred as a tear formed and fell down my cheek.
    That surprised me. I'd known Urist for over a year, and he'd often been on my thoughts... But did I love him? Would I be happy for him if he'd found someone he liked? Part of me desperately wanted him for my own, and for that filthy skank to keep her grubby little hands off him... but at the same time, I wanted him to be happy.
    I shook my head angrily to clear my mind, roughly brushing away my tears. It's impossible to love someone right after you meet them! It wasn't love he felt for her; it was lust!!!
    Walking onwards through the corridors, I quickened my step as if I could escape my thoughts; I couldn't let it get to me. Urist and I were friends, and nothing else. I couldn't possibly love him, could I? We'd only spent 12 hours together, at the best.
    I also had to admit to myself that I'd never really been "in love" before. My whole life, I'd always avoided people... all out of fear of finding out who I was. Urist had been the first one who'd been different. He hadn't cared what I was.
    But now he was off somewhere with that woman, that Ballpoint Commander. In my mind, I could see him making out with her, her giggling at his low voice, clothes lying on the floor... I could almost hear her detestable voice moaning in wicked pleasure. It was the worst type of torture imaginable: the torture of the heart. It was slowly, cruelly murdering me inside, and I desperately wanted it out of my head.

    Fortunately, it wasn't long before something happened to draw my attention. Turning the corridor's corner in front of me were forty or more armed guards, marching in long lines, four abreast. Not knowing what else to do, I got to the side of the hallway and waited for them to pass, hoping I wouldn't be questioned.
    They marched past me without giving me so much as a glance, acting very professional and orderly, much unlike the off duty mercenaries I'd met in the barracks. In a way, I admired their level of control - dwarves could never hold such perfect formations for more than a few seconds... even when standing still. But at the same time... every soldier there reminded me of my soldier, Urist. It was tugging at my heart; every one of them a cruel slap to my cheek, my thoughts an icy prison from which I couldn't escape.
    Finally, they passed by me without incident, and I continued towards the warehouses. I was almost there, and I had the key in hand... but I'd paid dearly for it.

☆

[Talvieno]

Chapter 19: Despair
This is an emu leather-bound journal. You're pretty sure there's nothing new to be said about it at this point, but the next entry menaces with the dried imprints of fallen tears.

    Jealousy forces disquieting images into our minds. In reality, what we imagine might not even be true, but people in love tend to think illogically. If it gets bad enough, you find yourself mistrusting even your best friends... I'd never had it happen to me before, and I was flailing about, trying to find solid ground to stand on. It was as if I'd been cast into deep water; as if thrown over the side of a dwarven cargo barge, only to realize I couldn't swim. I was drowning in my own mind, and there wasn't any air to be had. But I didn't want to see it as "jealousy" at all.

    I tried to convince myself everything was all right, but my thoughts were flowing too swiftly through my mind. Urist was only trying to get the key for me, I told myself. I wanted to believe it. With all I had, I really did. The idea lifted my spirits briefly, only to be crushed by recurring memories in my mind: Urist's seductive voice; how smooth he'd been; how much he'd seemed to enjoy it. It couldn't possibly have been the first time he'd picked someone up like that, I was sure of it. I hated the thought, and it made me feel wretched, but I didn't know what else to think.

    I wanted to hit something, or kick something. I wanted to go back and yell at him for following his own desires instead of staying with me and completing the mission. At the same time, I was faintly aware that his abandoning me wasn't the real reason I was upset: I liked him, as more than a friend. I'd never really thought about it until then; I'd always brushed it out of my mind because of what it meant. Handsome or not, gentlemanly or not, he was a dwarf. I was a horrible, no-good elf. If I was to be judged by the actions of my own kind - eating the dead, being religiously hypocritical - I almost deserved to be killed. More importantly... how could an elf have children with a dwarf?

    I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. It was only a flirt; only a flirt. That was all it had been, and now I was overthinking everything.

    Up ahead of me the hallway opened into a large room: the entrances to the warehouse. I knew I needed to put all of it out of my mind for the moment and finish my job, or else someone would probably notice. I'd been lucky enough to avoid the guards so far... but what could I do against even one?
    A guard was pacing back and forth, patrolling the wide row of double doors. After hiding for a moment, I calmed myself as best I could and walked towards the nearest door. In the keypad to the right of it, there was a little slot where you could fit a card. Not sure what else to do, I inserted Commander Acetalyta's into it, and to my immense relief I heard a little "ding", and the doors slid open.
    I glanced back at the guard, who was walking forwards at a slow, steady pace, gun in hand. He didn't appear suspicious, and I felt glad of it: so far, everything was going smoothly. Taking the card back and slipping it into my sleeve, I entered the warehouse.

    I froze just inside the entrance, gaping in fearful awe at the tall towers of metal shelving. They seemed to rise at least four stories from the floor, and went back deeper than the garage, or even the barracks. Between them, the occasional armed guard silently strolled, striding slowly through as if ghosts from another realm. I paid little notice to them, more occupied with the question of how I was going to find Mr Frog's PEA with row upon row of shelves to search.
    The sound of a metal door sliding shut behind me snapped me out of my thoughts, and I began to walk forwards with a hesitant step into the massive chamber. To my right, there was a stack of backpacks, with a sign that read, "Return after use". I knew I wouldn't be able to return it, but I figured a backpack would probably come in handy, so I took one. Slinging it over my shoulder, I walked down an aisle between the two nearest shelves, looking in wonderment at all the different devices stacked upon them: things I knew I'd never be able to identify, much less comprehend.
    Suddenly I jumped, looking upwards as I heard the loud noise of whirring electric motors. Thirty feet above me, some sort of massive mechanical machine was climbing between the shelves like a spider. Its eight legs were clinging to opposite sides of the aisle, and I instinctively ducked as it passed overhead. The rider in the pod looked down at me and nodded in acknowledgement as his vehicle turned the corner out of sight, maneuvering its legs in an otherworldly manner.
    I felt overloaded by the new sounds and sights, and all I could think was that I wanted to go home.  "Culture shock", Mr Frog would later call it. Honestly, even had I known the name, I wouldn't have cared. I felt a little dizzy and sick to my stomach, but I tried my best to ignore it.

    "Are you all right?"
    A blonde-haired human guard, looking about my age, walked towards me with a concerned expression on his face. I hadn't even known he was there. "Yes... I'm all right, just -" I began, and paused: it shouldn't have been so obvious. I examined his face suspiciously. "Why?"
    The man looked at me with a curious expression. "You just look... lost, somehow," he said, looking at me thoughtfully. "Plus, I'm pretty good at telling when somebody's off their game." There seemed to be a hint of loneliness about him.
    "'Off their game?'" I wanted him to go away, but at the same time, there was something inviting about him... almost attractive.
    He laughed. "Yeah, you look like you're hiding from a ghost."
    I smiled and shook my head, glancing downwards. "No... not really a ghost... just problems." He seemed to see right through me.
    "'Problems?' Wanna talk about it?" He was definitely the chattiest guard I'd ever heard of, but right then, I was thankful for it. It had taken my mind off my troubles.
    I hesitated. "I can't..." I replied, trying to sound regretful. "I'm busy."
    With a knowing nod, he smiled disarmingly. "No problem, just figured I'd offer. If you wanna discuss it over lunch, I get off in an hour..." he hinted, raising an eyebrow hopefully.
    "No, I..." I frowned and stopped for a moment, looking at his deep blue eyes, his close-cropped hair. Without meaning to, I remembered Urist's betrayal - how he'd run off with the commander without so much as a goodbye. Now a guard was practically asking me out. In a sort of vengeful way, it felt good, and I felt myself open up to him a little. "You know what..." I said slowly, letting a smile creep across my features, "yes. Yes, why not?" Looking back now, I realize I'd completely forgotten where I was, though I hadn't forgotten what I was doing. "But could you help me with this first?"
    He appeared happy that I'd agreed, and it made me feel guilty. "Sure! Whatcha need? And what's your name, by the way? Mine's Halion."
    "I'm trying to find something, but I don't know where to look. And my name is... Vanya..." As my name formed on my lips, I remembered my accursed elven heritage. Then I realized something surprising. He wasn't an elf, he could see I was an elf, and it mattered so little to him that he'd actually asked me to lunch. In my opinion, he'd one-upped Urist. I felt a tinge of anger as his name crossed my mind again, but soon it passed.
    Halion had taken a little portable computer out of his pocket and was typing letters into the keypad. "What is it you're looking for?" he asked, glancing up from it at me.
    I hesitated, worried that my quest would give away my identity. I glanced around nervously for an exit in case I needed it. "...I'm looking for a PEA that used to belong to someone named... Mr Frog. Would it list that anywhere in there?"
    I tensed up, biting my lip anxiously, but to my relief he didn't seem suspicious. Instead, he nodded, tapping the keys as he spoke. "Yep, shouldn't be hard to come up with. ...Ah, here it is already! You're looking for section XFY, position 1393, level 3. That's..." He looked up from his computer for a moment, visually scanning through the shelves. Lifting a careful finger, he pointed towards my left. "That's that way. Just walk past the aisles until you see 'XFY', and then -" He stopped abruptly, putting a finger to his ear, a blank expression on his face.
    After several seconds, I queried cautiously, "Is something wrong?"
    "No, it's..." he stopped again, listening. "I just got a call on the comm channel - backup military units are wanted at a 'situation' down in D-sector - that's me. Looks like I won't be getting off in an hour," he frowned. "Sorry about this, guess we'll have to talk some other time."
    Fortunately by this time I'd regained my wits enough to remember I wasn't even going to be there in an hour. "It's all right, you just go do what you need to." Somehow, I still felt slightly disappointed.
    He nodded dejectedly, shutting his computer off and putting it carefully in his pocket. Another two guards brushed past us, headed in the direction of the door. "You coming, Halion?" one called over his shoulder.
    "Yeah," he replied, raising his voice over the distance. "I'm just helping someone out." His voice lowered again to a normal tone as he said, "I'm really sorry, Vanya. Nice meeting you, though." He turned, walking quickly towards the door.
    I stood silently as he left, only remembering my manners as he walked through the doors. "Nice to meet you too!" I called after him, but my voice echoed eerily in the quiet, cavernous room.

    Mr Frog had always said Ballpoint was pure evil. In his words, "You mindless brutes of Ballpoint Tech - all you can accomplish is petty thievery and senseless destruction!" I'd only been here twice, and each time, I'd met someone friendly and helpful. I was beginning to realize that if Ballpoint itself was "evil"... it didn't necessarily mean that everyone here was evil. They were simply employees doing their job to earn a living. Bugi and Halion were friendly, and it seemed likely that many other people in Ballpoint were.
    As I walked quietly down the aisles towards my destination, I began to wonder if maybe Eris, Joseph's company, wasn't all evil, either.


    Before long, I stood at my destination: XFY, position 1393. The number was marked on the shelf, and the third shelf from the floor was marked 'level three'. Unfortunately... the spot was empty. Around it were arranged an odd assortment of other PEAs of various designs, but Mr Frog's was missing.
    I stopped, frowning. Unless Halion had given me the wrong information, the PEA should've been right there. I straightened, looking down the aisles for someone to ask, but the warehouse seemed strangely empty. I could hear footsteps in the distance, but for the most part, the guards seemed to have left.
    Not knowing what else to do, I took the backpack off my shoulder and began scooping all the nearby PEAs into it. If Mr Frog's was simply misplaced, I wanted to be sure I had it.

~~~

    Several minutes later, I was walking down the bulb-lit hallways of Ballpoint's unending corridors with a full backpack slung over my shoulder. Leaving the storage area had been easy: nobody had bothered to check me or stop me, not even the guard outside. In a way, I'd expected it to be more difficult.
    As I walked, my mind began to wander again...

    Halion had wanted to get to know me. He'd shown interest and actually asked me to lunch. What had Urist done, the whole time I'd known him? It'd been months since we'd escaped, and not once had he tried to visit Mr Frog's place. He'd never shown any interest in me at all, instead acting as unemotional as a rock. Was I really that unattractive to him? It wasn't his reaction to everyone: as soon as he'd laid eyes on Acetalyta he'd tried to seduce her. Was that all he saw women as good for?
    Had I completely misjudged him?
    I remembered all our conversations, and how he'd acted so gentlemanly and sweet. I remembered his kindness; his understanding. I remembered how he'd almost sacrificed himself to save my life, and my stance towards him began to soften. Maybe he really did care about me, I thought, but it wasn't long before I brushed it away with a startling realization. If he'd been trying to get me into bed... he'd been going about it completely the right way.

    I turned another corner and crossed an intersection, briefly glancing at the floor map. I shook my head slowly, staring at the floor and trying to work it all out. Somehow, I'd had his entire personality all wrong, right from the beginning. He'd used me; he didn't care about me at all. As soon as someone easier had come along, he'd forgotten little Vanya, not even caring enough to take my feelings into account as he seduced the commander right in front of me. Was I really that worthless to him? There had been months where he could've asked me out or made a move on me, but he'd never tried. Was it that he just didn't care? Did he actually find me unattractive?
    It hurt. I couldn't sort everything out in my mind, no matter how I tried, but I knew one thing: I was never going to fall for Urist's lies ever again.
    Hans had been there too, I remembered... but I didn't feel so hateful towards him. He'd never really done anything to indicate he might like me as anything other than a friend.


    A guard rushed past me at a jog. She was aiming a weapon as she ran, as if she expected to encounter an enemy at any moment. But there weren't any enemies in Ballpoint, I reasoned. Well, technically, no enemies except...
    My eyes widened as I remembered: I was an enemy. I didn't have to wonder. Hans and Urist were in trouble.
    I rushed forwards, sprinting after her until I caught up. "What's going on?" I asked breathlessly, slowing my pace to match her steady one.
    "Not sure. Breach in D-Sector," she replied, her voice shaking in time with her steps. "Sounds like there might be heavy casualties - think a bomb went off in there, or something, but can't tell much - channels are clogged."
    My feet slowed for a moment and I fell behind, as she ran ahead around the curve in the corridor. Heavy casualties?? What had they done?? I quickened my pace again, praying that everyone - my friends and Ballpoint's employees - were all right.

    Up ahead, I heard yelling and the alien, unfamiliar sound of gunfire: sharp blurps and rat-a-tats echoing through the cold metal halls. As I turned another corner, heading towards where we'd arrived, I saw a sight that chilled me to the bone: fallen soldiers lying against the walls, coated in their own blood. The acrid smell of acid, smoke, and burning flesh filled the air. I tried my best to ignore it, walking carefully past the bodies to avoid stepping in anything.

    As I turned another corner, I sighted a face I recognized: Halion, lying face up in a pool of blood, panting heavily, his eyes clenched tightly shut.
    Crying out, I rushed forwards, falling to the floor by his side. I was dimly aware of the warm, sticky feel of blood soaking into the fabric of my suit, but I didn't care. Tears sprung to my eyes as I examined his wound - a deep gash carved across his torso. With every heartbeat, more blood gushed forth, and as my tears fell like trickling rain I pressed my hands against the cut, trying to close it to keep his life force from spilling to the ground.
    He gasped with pain, opening his eyes and looking at me. "Va... V... Vanya... I..." he stuttered, stumbling painfully through the sounds.
    I could feel his chest convulsing beneath my hands as he tried to speak, his warm blood flowing between my fingers, and I started sobbing. "Please, don't speak," I whispered through my tears. "You won't die. You can't... Just stay calm; stay with me."
    "I... Va..." he tried to say, and then he stopped. I felt his chest go limp beneath my fingertips as he quieted, the sound of his last sigh gurgling with blood.

    I didn't even have to wonder. He was dead. He'd shown me such kindness, and he was dead, and it was all my fault. If I'd never come to Ballpoint in the first place, he would still be alive, along with everyone else. I'd never seen someone die before, and to see someone die right in front of me as I'd tried to save him...
    I staggered backwards, reeling, sick to my stomach. Death has a bitter flavor, a sick, feverish one, like a cold sweat and vomit. Right then I wanted to run somewhere far away and hide, and never have to look at anything or anyone again.
    Gunfire echoed down the hallway, but it sounded like naught but a ghost's whispers, aged and distant. I stumbled and fell to my knees again by Halion's side, lowering my head to his and weeping openly. He'd been so kind to me, and now he was... gone.


    Something exploded down the hallway, sending pieces of shrapnel clattering and ricocheting against the walls. A piece bounced to a stop beside me, and I raised my head, looking at it, my mind slowly pulling itself out of the gloom.
    I had to go.
    But now, I was angry. Urist and Hans had killed him, not me. So many people were dead, and it wasn't my fault, but theirs. If they'd done what they were supposed to... if they'd stayed with me instead of running off with that woman... none of this would've happened. I heard the sound of another explosion echoing from far away, amidst agonized screams of men and women.
    This had to stop.

    With a new rage filling my veins, I got up, feeling Halion's blood trickling down the legs of my suit. I heard the gunfire echoing around me, but I stepped forwards firmly, my pace steadily increasing as I passed the corner, running past the medics who were tending wounded; past the armed guards taking cover behind doorways.
    The hallway intersected with a larger one, heavy metal doorframes interspersed at regular intervals all along it. Ballpoint soldiers were crouching behind the nearer ones, firing spurts of bullets down the hallway. At the far end, a few hundred feet away, I saw a gun emerge from behind a doorframe and fire several rounds before disappearing again - my friends were there.
    In total disregard for what was going on, I sprinted forwards, passing the Ballpoint soldiers that were taking cover. "What are you doing?! You're going to get yourself killed!!" I heard one yell incredulously. "Hold your fire! Hold your fire!" another one shouted from behind me. For a moment, the gunfire stopped, and all was silent but for the pained moaning of the injured, and my light footsteps down the battle-scarred hallway.
    "She's with them!" someone yelled, and gunfire erupted again as I ducked behind the doorframe, across the way from Urist and Hans.

    "Where have you been?" Urist asked, spraying a few more shots blindly. "We weren't sure how to find you again."
    I felt fury welling up in me again, just at the sound of his voice. "I knew how to find you," I spat out hatefully. "Just follow the trail of the dead, and discarded women."
    "What?" Hans looked at me curiously, seeming hurt.
    I sighed, frustrated. "Not you, Hans. Though I'm sure you've done your share of killing."
    "Vanya, take this." Urist called out to me over the din, tossing me something.
    It was unexpected, and I barely managed to catch what he threw. I paused, examining it in surprise. "It's a gun... I don't want a gun!"
    He fired a few more shots down the hallway. "I must scout out the corridor behind us. When I go, fire that to suppress the enemy."
    Putting it down, I shook my head negatively. "I'm not killing anyone! I hate using weapons! And you've killed too many people already!"
    Urist appeared to grow frustrated. "Vanya, I need you covering me, or I could die."
    In the back of my mind, the thought occurred to me that if Urist died, it might almost be well-deserved. The fact that I could even think such a thing shocked me, and I pushed it away. "Unlike you, I care about the safety of other people. Even the 'enemy'!"
    He hesitated, looked at me curiously for a moment. "Just fire it," he said finally, turning and sprinting down the hallway behind me.
    Several Ballpoint soldiers appeared in front of us, taking aim. Not knowing what else to do, I snatched up the gun in my hands and pointed it down the hallway, pulling the trigger and praying that I wouldn't hit anybody. As I fired, my arms shook violently, and the gun's muzzle drifted rapidly towards the ceiling. I hadn't been expecting the recoil, but it did its job anyway: everyone ducked back behind the doorframes.
    I put the weapon back down. If that was the last time I ever touched a gun, I'd be glad of it.

    "You okay, missus?" Hans asked concernedly from the other side.
    "I'm fine," I shot back. Suddenly I noticed he was tending a wound, wrapping a bandage around his arm with his teeth. I hadn't even realized he was wounded, and I felt awful for snapping at him. "It's just Urist," I explained. "And this isn't my blood," I added, making an offhand gesture at my dripping legs. It reminded me of Halion's death, and the thought cooled me a little. I knew that Hans, at least, wasn't faking his personality, and I didn't feel as hostile towards him. Actually, I felt bad that I'd snapped at him, and was on the verge of apologizing when I heard the piercing sound of someone firing a weapon close by. I looked back and saw Urist rushing forwards with his rifle, throwing himself up against his side of the doorframe as the enemy's bullets clacked against the walls.
    "Was it any good?" Hans bellowed over the noise.
    Urist nodded, wincing at the loud clangs the projectiles were making. "The hallways behind us appear to be clear, and there is an empty room nearby. We will need to exit through them to a safer location. Vanya, do you have the portal device?"
    I rolled my eyes. "Yes, of course I do," I answered. "Can't you see it on my wrist?" I shook the bracelet meaningfully.
    Urist didn't reply, firing another round of shots down the corridor instead. After a few moments, he peeked out and fired a second volley. He seemed calm, but I'd never been in combat before, and the battle raging around us was making me nervous. A million feelings were mixing in my mind; I was tired, I was panicked, I was hurt, and I was agitated and confused. All I was sure of was that I wanted to get away from it all.
    "Aren't we going?" I asked impatiently. "If we wait, they'll just have time to bring more soldiers in..." Again, he didn't respond.
    I decided to venture a peek myself, poking my head out from behind cover. Down the hallway, I could see a few soldiers crouched against the far side. One of them, a woman, jumped out when she noticed me and fired a few shots. I jerked my head back quickly. "Oh, look, Urist, another girl! Why don't you go flirt with her?"
    That finally got a reaction out of him - an actual double take. He appeared hurt and confused, and though I partly felt bad about it, a darker part of me enjoyed his reaction.
    My enjoyment was interrupted by someone - the woman - rushing in front of us. I heard a burst of gunshots and threw myself against the floor, terrified. When I felt brave enough to look up again, I saw her lying on the ground, blood coming from several wounds. "Oh..." I said, shocked. "Oh... You SHOT her. Oh, well, lovely! Do you do that with all women when you're done with them?"
    Urist only glared at me angrily, something I'd never seen him do before. I shrank back a bit. "Vanya," he shouted, keeping his voice level, "on my signal, run for the corner behind us." Hans fired a few more shots down the corridor as he spoke.
    Urist had almost gotten himself shot when he'd tried running for the corner, only a few minutes before. "What???" I asked incredulously, open-mouthed. "Are you trying to kill me?!"
    "Just trust me!"
    "Trust you?? Are you serious?!"
    "   Of course I'm serious!" he yelled gruffly in frustration as he struck out with his sawpike, beyond my field of vision. I heard the scream of a spinning blade, and the yell of someone falling to the floor. My head was in a whirl - I didn't even know what to think about anymore. "Do you want us to die?" he asked heatedly.
    "Why would I??"
    "Now! Hans, Vanya - run!" Urist ordered, and I leapt to my feet. The three of us ran down the hallway as Hans and Urist fired a constant spray of shots backwards.
    "No more ammo!" Hans suddenly yelled, and moments later, we turned the corner into a little room. I heard bullets pinging behind us against the floors and ceiling: it'd been a narrow escape.

    The room was filled with crates of various sizes, and was as dim as the room we'd ported into when we'd arrived. I took off my bracelet and pushed the little button on it, watching expectantly as the air spiraled into a shimmering mirror. In just a few seconds, the portal would be ready.
    The three of us started when an unfamiliar dwarf suddenly jumped out of the shadows, holding a submachine gun. Reflexively, I flicked my wrist out at him as Mr Frog had taught me, and I saw several thin, stretchy tubes fly in his direction.
    "All of you, freeze!" the dwarf yelled in an authoritarian tone. "Drop your... wea..." His eyes slowly closed, and he fell to the floor, the elastic tubes from Mr Frog's weapon stretched to his chest, bouncing up and down slowly.
    I held my breath for a moment, staring in shocked surprise as it struck me that I might've killed him. "Wait, is he dead??" I asked, panicked. "Mr Frog said it wouldn't kill anyone... He can't be dead!"
    Hans seemed on edge. "Guys, we need to go right now," he warned. At the time, no one seemed to hear.
    "'Is he dead'..." Urist muttered. "Does it matter?" He walked over and picked up the dwarf's weapon. At the same time, the tubes detached themselves and snapped back into place under my arm, making it sting a bit.

    Oblivious to everything, I stared at the body, and to my relief I could see the man's chest rise and fall with gentle breathing. "'Does it matter'..." I repeated quietly, absentmindedly: Urist didn't even care. The enemy was the enemy to him; he didn't care if they lived or died; he didn't care about casualties or the feelings of their families. Right then, I decided that it must be nothing to him but statistics. I figured that the pain he caused people must mean nothing to him, whether it be romance or war.
    Urist interrupted my thoughts as he stormed back over, glowering at me. "Now would you mind explaining exactly what I'm doing that's pissing you off so much?"
    I snapped my attention from the unconscious figure and glared at him flagrantly, narrowing my eyes. "What do you think the problem is? Haven't I given you enough hints already? Or are you pretending to be dumb?"
    That ticked him off. "What are you talking about?" He leveled a piercing gaze at me, but I stood my ground.
    "You know perfectly well what I'm talking about!"
    "Guys, we gotta get out of here! Those soldiers will be here any second!" Hans interrupted loudly, but we were too involved in our argument to even notice.
    "Would you kindly answer my question instead of avoiding it?" Urist said. It seemed almost sarcastic in my ears.
    "'Would you kindly,'" I scoffed. "Oh, you act so mannerly and gentlemanly, but then you try to get into bed with the first woman you see!"
    Both of us exploded at each other, arguing and spitting insults like a verbal catfight. I wasn't even listening to what he was saying, and I don't think he was listening to me, either. We were trying to outshout each other, pretty much, and I'll admit he was winning. I couldn't yell as loudly as he could.
    "SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
    Urist and I stopped midsentence, looking at Hans in surprise and confusion at his outburst. Hans didn't even bother to explain. Scooping us up in his huge arms, he plunged into the shimmering portal.

    Everything twisted from reality to a dream as the world transformed from three dimensions to six, to two, to fifty...


    We collapsed into Mr Frog's room in a heap, space feeling solid once again. And once again, I was underneath everybody. At least this time, I was facing downwards... but Hans was crushing my leg. Pulling it gingerly out from under him, I tilted my head up from the floor and saw a dark cloak a few feet in front of me. I followed it upwards with my eyes to the unamused, expressionless, critical stare of Mr Frog.

    We all got to our feet, brushing ourselves off. Mr Frog shut off the portal, officially ending the mission. It was finally over, and I was very, very glad of it. Everything was quiet - peaceful.
    Urist's deep voice interrupted the serenity as he addressed me angrily, continuing our previous conversation. "Trying to 'get into bed' with her? How could you possibly think that?" Somehow, I took it as him insulting my intellegince.
    I spun and glared at him, my hair whipping about my face. I brushed it out of the way. "Your secret's out, Urist," I said. "You can quit playing charades now and come clean." Beside us, Hans turned away and shook his head resignedly, while Mr Frog stared at us in blank confusion, looking back and forth at us as we argued.
    "I have no secrets," Urist shot back.
    "It's all been an act! You've been faking your personality, acting like you actually cared about people; acting like a gentleman when in reality you're nothing but a player!"
    "...What," Mr Frog said flatly. I hardly heard him.
    Urist didn't hear him at all. "A player?? I've told you before, I'm married. Are you thick-headed?" I'd forgotten, honestly... but it gave me something else to lash out at him for.
    "So you were cheating on your wife when you tried to seduce Commander Acetalyta?" I hated the name.
    "Is that what you're upset about? I wasn't seducing her! I was distracting her so I could steal the key."
    "Yes, 'distracting her' with your deep voice and muscled arms."
    Urist stared at me in disbelief. "Obviously there is no way you will believe me. Why is this bothering you so much??"
    "You abandoned me!" I said accusingly. "You lied, you -"
    "Silence!!!" Mr Frog roared threateningly. It shocked me back to the present, and I looked at him in surprise. "Did you complete the assignment or not?" he queried.
    I pursed my lips, slinging the bag off my shoulder and thrusting it at him roughly. "Here." Then I turned back to Urist, still fuming. "I thought I knew who you were. I trusted you."
    He paused for a moment, looking at me strangely, as if an idea had just come to him. "You do know who I am."
    "You ran off with the commander!! It was right in the middle of a mission, too!"
    "I had no choice. But Vanya..."
    "And what got the army after you? Did she figure it out as I did? Did you shoot her??" I was fuming, dizzy, and almost in tears. My lower lip was trembling; I didn't want him to see me cry.
    "Vanya, stop this." he said, stepping forwards and grabbing my hands. He was trying to calm me down, but it only made me more upset. "Just listen. You're overreacting."
    My mind was in a fog. "No I'm not!" I cried out in protest as I pulled away, rushing towards my room. "I can't believe I fell in love with you!!"


    I closed the door behind me as tears streaked my cheeks, and I looked down at my bloody clothing. I'd gotten up that morning thinking it would be the best day of my life, but now... it was the very worst I could remember. Even worse than when Mr Frog had employed me, even worse than the prison cell near the Spawn. It felt as though nothing in the world could ever be beautiful again.
    I peeled off my Ballpoint suit and dropped it into the sink. Turning on the shower, I sat beneath the spray of water as it washed over me like rain, holding my legs closely to me as I wept. The bloodstains on my skin reminded me of Halion's death, and I rubbed at them, but they seemed to refuse to go away. I gave up, lowering my head onto my knees, the warm water trickling down my back.
    I cried.

~~~

    Later, I sat on the edge of the bed. My eyes were stinging from recent tears, my wet hair draped over the shoulders of my regular clothes. I felt clean, though I'd been unable to scrub the feel of Halion's death from my hands. I also felt quieter, and regretful of how I'd been upset at Urist. I'd gotten angry with him for something that wasn't really his fault: we'd only been friends, and nothing more. I'd never had the occasion to feel jealous before, and I hadn't been expecting it. Halion's death had only compounded with the problem, and had gotten me upset at him, when in reality, it wasn't really his fault at all. I realized Urist had been telling the truth: he'd only been trying to get the key. Now, instead of seeing the image of Urist's 'flirting' in my mind, I could see his wink as he tossed me the key; how he'd said "Convenient" when we'd met the commander.

    I felt awful. I knew I needed to apologize for so many things that I'd said, but I also knew that Urist had probably left. Even so, the more I thought about it, the more I knew: if I wanted to keep our friendship, I was going to have to hunt him down and apologize.
    Getting to my feet, I started towards the door, determined to find him, no matter where he was.


    It wasn't until later that I realized: I'd told Urist I loved him.

☆

[Talvieno]

Chapter 20: The Nightmare
The style of Vanya's script changes over the following pages - it becomes darker, almost pained, as if she'd struggled to write the words. No longer the flowing script it always was, it appears almost... tortured. Many of the lines are crossed out, or smudged beyond recognition, but you do your best to read what's there.

    The mind is a safe haven. If all the rest of the world goes to hell around you, so long as you have a strong mind that you can trust, you can remain level-headed and calm. It's part of why only the stronger-willed are able to survive at Spearbreakers - in a way, Spearbreakers is a hellhole.
    But what if that's actually true, in a more literal sense? What if Spearbreakers is Hell? The Spawn, violent and disfigured though they are, are still but dwarves. As they never die, where are their souls? I would imagine their souls and minds remain within their bodies, feeling every ounce of pain as their nerves are shredded in the transformation process, watching helplessly through blackened eyes as the monster that controls their body gnashes and slices at their former compatriots. They're trapped... in a hell all their own. I imagine they must want nothing more than to believe none of it is real.

    What if the mind can't be trusted? What if there's a chance it's not always telling the truth, or that it lies outright, all the time? What if it conceals things from you, or invents things that aren't real? What if you aren't who you seem to be?
    But on the other hand... what if you want to believe it lies? What if you'd rather falsely believe it's untrustworthy, rather than believe that what you see, feel, hear and know is real?

    It would be an escape, those beliefs; to believe that none of it is real. To believe that you're not actually a Holistic Spawn, and you're not actually murdering your friends, and your body isn't twisted into a hellish form.
    But when you distrust your mind... you invariably lose your sanity. Still... if revealed to be a monster... being weak-willed enough to lose your mind would be a blessing.

    I almost wish I could.

~~~

    My plan was to hunt Urist down and apologize - to tell him that I was sorry, and that I hadn't meant what I said. I'd only been upset - I could see that now. He didn't deserve my accusations, and I knew it. Jealousy can cause great wounds between friends, and I didn't want this wound to be deep enough to destroy what we had. After how I'd acted, a relationship was out of the question. Though I'll admit I found that thought terribly depressing, I didn't want a friendship out of the question, too.


    Snatching a cloak from my little cabinet and throwing it on, I pulled the hood up over my head and took one last glance at the mirror before I left. My eyes lingered on the stony frame, stained with specks of Halion's blood from when I'd tossed my Ballpoint suit into the sink.
    Forcing my eyes away from it, I walked to the door and pressed the button. It opened smoothly, and I started towards the laboratory door.

    "Where are you going? Stop." Mr Frog stepped into my path, examining me critically. "You can't leave." He was stirring a reddish liquid in a flask.
    I paused for a moment in surprise. "...Of course I can leave..."
    He glared at me. "If you leave, you'll be snatched up and taken to Ballpoint."
    "...What?"
    "Stupid, stupid girl," he muttered, turning to the table beside him and adjusting several dials on his equipment. "Did you really believe your survival was entirely your own doing?"
    I searched his face, trying to understand what he was getting at, but I soon looked away, unable to meet his piercing gaze. "I don't understand."
    "Your little Ballpoint excursion would've been a guaranteed miserable failure had I not taken the initiative precaution of acquiring a reasonable quantity of their soldiers and repositioning their assigned coordinates to the current iteration."
    It made no sense to me. "What?"
    "'What', it's always 'what' with you," he muttered scornfully, stepping forwards. The torchlight from behind cast a shadow on his face, and it made him seem even more ominously dangerous than usual. "What it means," he said slowly, "is that a battalion of Ballpoint mercenaries is cleaning up the aboveground area to inhibit the necromancers from raising corpses. Baron Splint believes them to be nothing more than allied soldiers from a distant realm. Bedside fairy tales, honestly. Complete rubbish. Somehow he sees their advanced-tech suits and thinks 'foreign'. At any rate, in exchange for their assistance, they get to do a thorough sweep of the fortress, looking for Parasol agents – which I’ve carefully gotten out of the way."
    "Okay..." I was beginning to understand. "I'll just keep my hood up, then, and nobody will notice."
    "No." He turned back to what he was doing, walking away as he stirred the liquid in the little flask. It seemed that to him, at least, the conversation was over.

    I didn't want it to be over. I had to talk to Urist. I had to explain and apologize, to keep our friendship alive. I'd never had any real friends before, and I cherished what we had together. It might have been almost nothing to someone else, but for me, it was rare. An actual, real, true friendship was a very significant thing to me, and I would've done anything to keep from losing it.

    "I helped you!" I protested, trying to convince him. "I risked my life to help you."
    Mr Frog either didn't notice or ignored my sense of urgency, but I knew him well enough to know I was making him angry with my persistence. "Do you believe I owe you compensation?"
    "Yes! I did everything you wanted. Please," I tried to convince him. "They won't even know I'm there. I used to be a skulker - I'll keep to the shadows."
    He swore under his breath. "Stupid, stupid girl. They will know you're there. Moreover, despite my best efforts, you did somehow manage a complete and utter miserable failure."
    "But the bag -"
    "- was filled with useless PEAs absolutely unrelated to my intentions," he finished for me with a glare.
    "But yours wasn't there!!"
    Mr Frog slammed empty the flask down on a table so hard that the glass cracked. He stormed over to me, all but grinding his teeth in anger and frustration. "Did you touch the empty space?"
    I shrank back, and he seemed to tower over me. "...what?"
    "Did you touch the empty space?" He repeated it slowly, sarcastically, as if I had trouble with the dwarven tongue. As he continued, his volume gradually escalated. "Did you forget everything you read about cloaking and image transference? It was there. If you'd touched the 'empty' space, you would have felt it under your hand! You simply didn't think!! Curse you and your kind!"
    For a moment, he reminded me of my grandfather, and I cringed, afraid he would strike me. Instead, he turned away, muttering in disgust. "'Stupid' doesn't accurately describe your measure of unintelligence."
    I stood gaping in frightened silence at his outburst. It hadn't ever occurred to me that it could've been invisible. It was all so new to me - I was having trouble grasping all the new ideas and keeping them straight in my mind. But could I really say that? He thought I was stupid already. On the other hand, was it really my fault I'd been born into a different universe?
    "Return to your room," he ordered, controlling his voice carefully. "Leave me to my thoughts."


    Back in my room, I sat down on the edge of the bed. I was somewhat ashamed that I'd failed Mr Frog again, but at the same time... if he'd just thought to explain things better, or point out beforehand that it might've been invisible... I would’ve known to look. He had a certain level of contempt for anyone with an "inferior intelligence"... like me. It wasn't my fault, though; I couldn't help not being as smart as he was. To him, it didn't matter. It simply was, and it wasn't something I could be forgiven for. Now that I think about it, though... I can't see him ever forgiving someone at all. His heart seems twisted with hatred. There must've been something that was done to him or by him in the past to make him this way, but I don’t know what it could be.
    It made me wonder... Was he actually the 'good guy'? If this was simply a story like a fairy tale, and not actually real life, would he be the good guy? Or was he the evil villain?
    Was I even on the right side at all?

    I laid back, resting my head on the little featherwood pillow, trying to redirect my thoughts. I thought over everything that had transpired between Urist and I - our little argument, my sarcastic comments, leaving through the portal, our heated insults.
    Suddenly my eyes widened and I sat upright.
    I'd told him I loved him. I couldn't believe it - I hadn't even realized I had at the time. I'd been so focused on everything else; it had just slipped out... I wondered if he'd heard, but soon tried to reassure myself that it wasn't possible. He couldn't have heard me, right? I definitely hadn't heard myself... But the more I thought about it, the more it nagged at my heart and soul. I felt that he had heard, and I wondered where he was. I wondered what he thought of it. A ray of hope struck me for a moment, like a beam of sunlight filtering through a darkened cave. I wondered if maybe he felt the same way, and maybe he cared about me too. I remembered how he'd taken my hand to try to calm me... His gentle touch with roughened hands...
    But now I had no idea when I'd be able to see him again. Would his feelings fade, if they were even there? Would I even see him again at all?

~~~

    The months rolled by uneventfully. Mr Frog seemed to have lost any use for me, other than menial tasks such as mixing flasks or crushing ingredients with a mortar and pestle. He rarely even allowed me to use his computer anymore; he seemed to have completely lost faith in my abilities. What had once been a paradise became a limbo, and I was trapped. The Ballpoint soldiers, while they carried out their duties and continued to clean the corpse fields on the blood plains with amazing speed (or so I was told), continued to comb the fortress, looking for me. I'd heard nothing from Urist, or Hans, and I didn't even know if they were still alive. I was afraid that Ballpoint might have captured them, but Mr Frog refused to "waste his time" going out of his way to gather information on them. As far as he was concerned, I was nothing but a failed experiment.
    Actually... I'm probably lucky he’s kept me alive at all... though as time has passed, I have become aware that he’s been slipping things into my food to test them on me. I'd become his testing cavy - his guinea pig.

    One night, after battling a particularly bad stomachache from whatever he'd fed me, I had a nightmare that would haunt me to the end of my days... mainly because it wasn't a nightmare at all. It was a memory.

~~~

    I stood in the darkest depths of the fortress, near the forges Mr Frog had built during his reign as overseer. Dust drifted about, faintly visible in the dim torchlight. I couldn't see as well as the dwarves, and I was thankful Splint had installed extra torches for Fischer's sake. The air felt thick and heavy, and my skin prickled with heat from the open pits that dotted the floor. Though currently devoid of lava, it wouldn't be long until that had changed: the open pits were connected beneath me by a huge room. Draignean's plan was to flood it with magma so that Spearbreakers' smiths could build more magma forges. But that wasn't scheduled until tomorrow.

    To my left, I heard a swirling noise, the air seeming to shimmer and ripple like gentle waves. I rushed over to the anomaly and pulled a pistol from my ragged blouse - my disguise - holding it at the ready. Moments later, a dwarf exited the open wormhole, looking about in surprise at the unexpected surroundings. He was garbed in traditional Ballpoint attire: dark gray clothing. I was behind him; I had the advantage. Stepping forwards, I grabbed his arm, pressing my weapon to his neck.
    "Do you feel that? You know what this is," I said meaningfully as I disarmed him. "Put your hands up. Don't speak or try to get away."
    He didn't speak, nor did he act fearful; he was a soldier. Both Parasol and Ballpoint were porting their agents into the young fortress, trying to get a firm foothold. It seemed odd, almost contrived, that Spearbreakers could become the epicenter of the Spawn plague, but it had. As a result, it was the central location of the war. My job was to eliminate threats as my employers twisted their wormhole exit points towards my location. It wasn't my job to ask why I was doing it.

    I started forwards with the dwarf, keeping him steady as we walked in between the forges, in between the rows of open holes in the floor. I could tell he was watching for an opening where he could escape, and I didn't want to give him that opportunity.
    Suddenly I threw my weight against him. With a shout, he stumbled and fell to the left, into one of the open pits. I stepped closer to the edge and looked down. A handful of upturned dwarven faces returned my gaze: assorted soldiers and agents, spies and scouts. They were Ballpoint's elite, their disguises perfect. I only knew who they were because of the orders of my employers.

    "Are you going to let us out?" a woman in the room below asked me. "The floor down here is strangely hot..." She cuddled a little baby in her arms, wrapped in linens.
    I didn't respond, instead walking to the far side of the room, and pulling a very conspicuous lever. I could hear gears grinding, turning; I could feel the weight of an entire floodgate beneath my hands as the lever slowly moved. More noises ensued, as I heard the Ballpoint agents begin to panic.
    Emotionless, I walked back past the open pits, watching in satisfaction as magma slowly crept over the floor, pouring in from the magma sea beneath the raised floodgate.
    "Let us out, I beg of ye!" an old gray-haired dwarf yelled. "We're going to die if y’ don’t!"
    I reached the hole he stood beneath and looked down at him dispassionately. Most of the dwarves had already retreated to the far side of the room, and I shifted my gaze from him. He was too old and slow to escape, struggling with his cane as he was, and I needed to make sure the others didn't try.
    A few of the agents began crying; others began to yell and shout in panic. I watched as one tried to build a makeshift barrier of loose stones, before he realized it was pointless. Still I stood silently above as a sentinel; a jailer; an executioner. This was my duty, and I felt calm.
    To my right, a dwarf was climbing the smooth walls of one of the pits, struggling for finger grips. I walked slowly in that direction until I stood directly above him. He looked up at me pleadingly. "Please... We won't come back, I swear to you. Don't do this!"
    I pointed my pistol at his head, but then moved it a few inches to the left. A bullet ripped through his shoulder, and he fell to the ground below, yelling in pain, but his cries were soon drowned out by the agonized screams of the aged dwarf, far to my left. I could see smoke beginning to rise from the pits.
    Turning from the wounded man, I patrolled back between the holes, watching for anyone who attempted to escape. Many were too frightened to attempt it. Most couldn't even find a foothold.
    A noise behind me caught my attention, and I turned on my heel, looking at the hand that was clawing its way over the edge. I stepped forwards briskly, peering into the face of the woman with the baby. Tears were in her eyes.
    As she saw my cold stare, she seemed to understand her fate. "You're going to kill us all..." she said in horrified disbelief, her voice breaking as her eyes wandered. As I aimed my pistol, she looked back up at me. "Wait! Wait!" she pleaded, sobbing. "Please! Please wait!" The woman held up her little child. It couldn't have been more than a few months old. "Please, at least spare my baby! Take him, please! He's done nothing wrong - you don't have to kill him too!"
    I looked at the child as it squirmed in the cloths, whimpering. For a moment I considered. The baby was well within my reach. The dwarven woman looked at me hopefully, desperately. "Please... find it in your heart to save my little boy!"

    With a distasteful, scornful frown, I placed the bottom of my shoe on the woman's face and kicked her back into the abyss. Her head cracked against the stone below, and she fell silent, blood pouring from her shattered skull. The little baby lay next to its mother, crying, as the magma inched steadily towards them. Moments later, their garments caught fire from the heat. As the magma enveloped them, a plume of smoke and the baby's brief but tortured screams filled the air. Satisfied, I turned away and continued my task.
    For good measure, I began to pour buckets of lye into the openings atop the remaining dwarves, ignoring their cries as the flammable, corrosive liquid bit into their skin, blinding them if it happened to get into their eyes. The magma approached, and they spontaneously combusted, screaming in unbearable agony as the flames licked around them.
    And I felt nothing for them.

    I continued my patrol, vaguely glad that I was almost done. As I passed the halfway point between the far walls, a tiny voice spoke from the stairwell, twenty feet away: "What's happening?"
    I spun and aimed my pistol at the intruder, only to see it was a little child, holding a little stuffed gorlak doll. "Leave," I ordered, lowering my weapon. My own voice sounded cruel and unfamiliar in my ears.
    "I heard people yelling..." she said, looking me over as fear began to grip her features. "I thought someone was hurt..." Then she looked past me and saw the smoke-filled air, the roaring fires reaching upwards from the pits. Her eyes widened. "Are people burning?!" she asked in terror, panicked. She rushed forwards, crying, "We have to save them!!"
    "Stop," I said, but the child didn't seem to hear, her shoes pattering against the ground as she passed me. "Stop!"
    The little girl did so, looking up at my face. She was wearing a little smock embroidered with images of gems and artifacts. She couldn't have been older than four, and her golden hair had been carefully braided into little pigtails. Had I been anyone else, I would've thought her cute. Instead, I looked at her icily. "You shouldn't have come down here," I growled, aiming my weapon.
    Her lip trembled, and a tear rolled down her cheek.


    I pulled the trigger.



    She screamed briefly, falling backwards as the bullet flew through her chest, ricocheting off the slate floor. She'd moved before I'd fired, and the bullet had missed her vital organs. The little child looked up at me, sobbing in pain and terror, trying to get away, blood pooling and smearing as she weakly scooted across the floor.

    It didn't even cross my mind to say I was sorry, as I fired a second round between her eyes.

~~~

    I awoke in the middle of the night, panting and sweating as I turned my light on, holding my head in my hands and trying to calm my rapid-beating heart. "It was all just a dream, all just a dream,” I repeated, trying to breathe deeply. “It was just a dream, just a dream." But as I tried, I remembered more of the nightmare - parts of the nightmare I hadn't even dreamed. I could remember dragging the little girl's body to one of the pits before tossing it in, smoke curling towards the ceiling; I could remember kicking her little gorlak doll behind a cluster of barrels.
    Suddenly I began to fear: what if it wasn't a dream at all, but a memory?

    Panicked, I threw on my clothes, terrified, hardly remembering to grab my beanie before I rushed out of my room, through Mr Frog's laboratory, running blindly through the empty hallways to the stairs as tears cascaded down my cheeks. It couldn't be true. It couldn’t be. It had to be just a dream. It felt like a memory, but how could I ever have done such a thing? How could I ever be so heartless, so cold? I wasn't a murderer! I'd never killed anyone!


    I finally reached the forge level, hundreds of feet below, and began moving barrels aside almost frantically, looking for the little gorlak doll. I thought that if I could prove to myself that it didn't exist, then I could calm myself - I could prove that none of it had been real. I just wanted something - anything to assure me I'd never done those horrible, horrible things.

    As I moved another empty barrel, I saw it - the little gorlak doll. I froze, staring at it in shock. It'd gathered dust with time, but it was the same as I'd seen in my dream.

    My muscles seemed to give way, and I collapsed to the floor. Scooping the little doll up, I hugged it to my chest, and sobbed. I cried for all the people I’d murdered; I cried for the innocent little girl. I didn't even want to know what other fell things I'd done while I'd worked for Parasol, but the thought that I'd killed more than once tore into my soul.
    I was a monster. My mind wasn't my own; my actions weren't my own; not even my memories were my own, and how was I supposed to be able to tell how much I’d forgotten?  I didn't know who I was anymore - I'd never known who I was. How was I to even know that I didn't still wake up in the middle of the night to kill?
    As I lay on my side, crying, curled up into a ball and holding the little stuffed toy, I wished I'd died many years before. I wished none of it had ever happened - the only good thing I could recall doing in my entire life was saving Talvi, and that had been largely by the hand of Joseph, my enemy. I didn’t know anything for sure anymore. I just wished I'd never been born.

    Insanity would've been a blessing.

☆

[Talvieno]

A gorlak. Art by Tarn and Zach Adams, creators of Dwarf Fortress

Chapter 21: The Caves
    This is a leather-bound journal that once belonged to Vanya, the formerly homeless elf who had lived in hiding in Spearbreakers. Though in the employment of Mr Frog at the time of her last entry, you cannot help but wonder how much longer it lasted.

    I don't know how long I laid weeping on the floor of the forges, clutching the dead girl's little gorlak doll and trying fruitlessly to wish the memories away. The memories were in my head, but how could they be mine? How could I not remember killing so many Ballpoint agents until now? More importantly... how could I have killed them at all? I'm not a killer...

    The more I thought about it, the more I feared that maybe the nightmare I'd had was the real me showing itself at last. I tried to ignore those thoughts, pointing out to myself that I hated violence... but I was forced to acknowledge the fact that I didn't know anything for sure about myself anymore. Parasol had altered my mind so much when they made me a fallback agent that they'd even made me believe I'd had a sister, if Mr Frog’s analysis could be trusted. Somehow, I still felt as though she'd been real... that all my memories about her were real, even if I couldn't remember what she looked like, or sounded like. Though I couldn't recall anything about her physical appearance, I could remember her personality... or at least, I thought I could. I didn't know anything for sure anymore. If I could kill two dozen Ballpoint agents and not feel a thing... what kind of person was I? I'd never considered myself "good"... but now I seemed to be far worse than "bad".
    I wept a few more tears, curled on the magma-warmed floor behind the barrels, and held the little dead girl's gorlak doll at arm's length. It was an ugly thing - green with huge yellow eyes and a bulbous body supported by spindly legs. Its mouth was huge, taking up most of its form, and had two huge stone teeth poking up like inverted fangs. Still... despite how ugly it looked, it had all the appearance of having been loved at some time: all the wear and tear of a beloved toy. The seams beginning to weaken, and the stuffing was squashed a little flat.

    I'd murdered its owner. I'd killed the little girl who it'd belonged to, at some point, years ago... all because she was in the way. I hadn't even batted an eye... but now, reliving the memories yet again, I couldn't hold back the tears, and I clutched the little doll close to me again, wishing the little child was still alive. I rolled over towards the rough, dusty wall, leaning forwards til my forehead brushed against it.

    Why had I been working for Parasol to begin with? Why couldn't they have just left me alone? Even if I was an elf; even if I was a skulker... what right did they have to take me from my home in the alleyways of Spearbreakers and turn me into one of their own kind? I may not have been an official resident, or a dwarf, but I'm a person, too. Who did they think they were, acting as if the fortress was theirs? Acting as if the world was theirs? Acting as if lives, hopes and dreams were nothing more than statistics? They're monsters... abominations just as bad as the Spawn themselves, taking without asking, and not giving anything in return.

    And they'd turned me into one of them.


    I shook with sobs. I wanted to die - I wished that none of it had happened. I knew what it was like to lose someone you loved  - I'd lost my little sister to the hospital's malpracticing doctors a couple years before. I wanted to apologize to the little girl's parents, even though I knew I'd never be able to make amends. Weaver, the Hammerer, would likely kill me for it - the punishment in Spearbreakers for murder was fifty hammerstrikes, and that meant death.
    I could vaguely remember that I was in the forges - there were pools of magma not fifty feet away I could throw myself into...


    "V!" someone whispered urgently from behind.
    I recognized it at once: it was Urist. But I didn't care: my mind was full of how horrible of a person I'd been, to massacre so many people without even flinching. "Go away," I whimpered. "I don't want you to see me now." I know I must've looked awful, but that was the furthest thing from my mind.
    His deep voice continued. "V, we must leave this place."
    I didn't care how desperate he sounded. It'd been months since I'd seen him last, and though I'd missed him, he didn't have the slightest idea of what a monster I was. "Urist, go away!" I begged. "Please, just leave me alone!" Even as I said it, I felt myself wishing that he wouldn't - that he would realize I was hurting and try to help. I imagined him sitting down beside me and listening, telling me he cared about me and that everything would be all right.

    My fantasies were shattered when he roughly pulled me to my feet. "V!" he whispered fiercely, spinning me around to face him so quickly that I almost dropped the little doll. "We must leave this place now."
    It took me by surprise, and I stared at him blankly through my mussed hair, looking over the lantern jaw I'd wanted so, so badly to see again, less than a week before. It seemed pointless now to want him. After all, how could he want me, if he knew what I was? A little whimper escaped my throat.
    Urist grabbed my hand and began to pull me hurriedly towards the entrance of the forges. I felt myself stumbling behind, barely able to keep up with his pace. But I didn't want to follow - I didn't want to go anywhere or do anything. I tried pulling away from his grip, and he responded quickly.
    "Listen, if we do not leave now, the Ballpoint soldiers that Count Splint has cleaning up the aboveground are going to kill you!"
    Splint was a count now? He'd only been a baron, the last I heard. "Let them kill me," I muttered despairingly. "I don't deserve to live anyway."
    He threw an incredulous glance back at me for my words, but continued down the hallway without hesitation. Moments later, he pulled us into a darkened alleyway next to the stairs. "You must be completely quiet," he warned. "I could hear them on the stairs above me for much of the way down - they know you are down here. They have been looking for both of us, and if you make any sound, they will know where we are."
    His words echoed, muffled, through the little hallway, and I searched his face. "They're after you, too?" I'd been hoping they wouldn't know who he was.
    "Indeed," he intoned slowly.
    "Then let them just find me," I whispered, brushing a tear from my eyes. "I deserve to die."
    He looked at me curiously, his expression just barely visible in the dark. "What are you talking about?"
    I hung my head and looked away. "Urist... I've done horrible things... I... I didn't remember them until earlier tonight, but..." I stopped, aware that my words didn't make sense.
    For a moment, there was silence, before Urist placed a finger on my cheek and gently turned my face towards him. "V..." he began quietly, "your past actions do not determine who you are. What matters are the decisions you make in the future, and how you learn from your mistakes."
    His words were sweet, and while they did calm me somewhat, he didn't fully understand. "Urist..."
    "Quiet now," he whispered, moving his finger to my lips. He looked towards the stairs silently, listening.

    It wasn't long before we heard the stomp of a number of heavy boots coming down the stairs, amidst quiet conversation. Though their voices echoed towards us, I couldn't quite make out most of what they were saying until they'd reached the bottom, just around the corner.
    "We 100% sure this is her?" one asked.
    "Dunno, HQ says it was dark and the image was blurry. Suspect was running or something."
    "But she matches the description, yeah?"
    "Yep. If it's her, we get to leave this dump."

    Their whispers faded into the distance as they continued towards the forges, and still Urist stood silently, waiting, listening, almost as if he was holding his breath.
    "Now," he whispered, grabbing my hand again and pulling me forwards towards the stairs. I couldn't keep up with his pace, and stumbled, falling to the floor. He stopped to pull me to my feet.
    "Hey!" a voice yelled from down the hallway. "Who are you?" The Ballpoint accent was unmistakable.
    Urist muttered under his breath, "Run!" We made a dash up the stairs, and I groaned inwardly as I thought of the 1500 stair steps between the forges and the living quarters. The thought of the Ballpoint soldiers right behind us terrified me, and I ran onwards frantically as Urist led the way, hand in hand.

    "Urist!" I cried out, as we rapidly climbed step after step. Urist easily managed two at a time, and I was getting the nagging feeling that I was just slowing him down. "Urist, wait! Where are we going?" As I spoke, I stuffed the gorlak doll into my blouse so I would have a hand free.
    He didn't slow as he responded, "I stored our Ballpoint weapons in a cave farther up. It is only a few times as far as the forges to Simon Tam's palace."

    The mayor, Simon Tam, had ordered a series of huge rooms built for himself at the beginning of his first term, deep underground. Guards stood stationed by the door, and very few people were allowed in to see what he was doing. I'd only heard whispers... always something about a sister, or medicine. I don't think anyone really knows what's going on in there, but the walls in the stairways for many floors above it are filled with little passages and tunnels... many hardly wide enough for a dwarf.

    "Here," Urist finally said, panting and pointing into a little hole in the wall. It was so small I couldn't even imagine either of us fitting. "Climb in there," he urged. "I'll follow you."
    Whether it was an illusion or not, I don't know, but I thought I saw the inside of the tunnel twisting and shrinking ever so slowly, as I stared into its shadowed depths. "I can't go in there..." I whispered, frightened. "Look how small it is! It'll collapse and kill us!"
    Urist roughly shook his head. "Vanya, I know you hate small spaces, but Hans himself dug this tunnel - he said it will be safe! Do you want the Ballpoint soldiers to catch up with us?"
    I shook my head, wide-eyed, and then looked up at his face: grim and set with determination. I could hear heavy footsteps echoing upwards through the huge spiral staircase, and I knew them to belong to the enemy. Turning back fearfully towards the hole, I put my arms up and started to pull myself into it. Urist helped me from behind, lifting me and pushing me forwards.

    I've never been in such a small tunnel before. It seemed to squeeze me even without the assistance of my fears: I could feel my shoulders and hips brushing against the walls. Urist seemed to be having an even harder time of it. The fabric of his clothing rustled loudly as he followed behind. It was so, so tight... I closed my eyes and plodded forwards blindly.
    Too much had happened that night. It had shaken and bewildered me in every possible way, and all I wanted was to sleep. I didn't care where, even if it was on a cave floor, or outside on the grass, just so long as it was peaceful.

    I yelped suddenly as I found nothing beneath my hands, the floor seeming to disappear beneath me as my feet moved me forwards, and I fell. Time seemed to slow as I felt myself blindly tumbling downwards in the frigid darkness, and I braced for the inevitable collision against the floor, praying that my death would be quick.
    ... I think I fell a total of three feet... In my defense, though, it was three feet in the dark. I had no way of knowing I was so close to the ground.
    "Vanya?" a voice whispered. "Are you all right?"
    I was lying on my back where I'd fallen. I looked up towards the source of the sound, but I saw nothing. "I think so..." I whispered back. "I can't see in the dark, remember? I didn't know when the tunnel was going to end." I stretched out my arms and legs, gratefully feeling of the wide-open space where I was lying.
    "Indeed..." he muttered. I had a feeling he'd forgotten, but I wasn't sure. As I listened, I heard a rustle of clothing and the sound of Urist leaping forwards. With a heavy thud, he landed past my feet. "Come, give me your hand."
    I sat up and held out my hand, moments later feeling the warm, comforting feel of Urist's grip. You can learn so much about a person from their hands... Urist's were firm, and calloused with years of honest work. They felt safe; trustworthy.
    He pulled me easily to my feet. "Follow me," he spoke quietly. The silence that enveloped us seemed to make it louder than it was.

    I followed behind him as he began to move, brushing my hair back out of my eyes and tucking some of it under my beanie. "You'll have to guide me," I warned him.
    He didn't respond, only walking onwards with careful, confident footsteps that echoed gently through the dark.

    We continued for a time in silence. I didn't like it. I could hear the dripping of water, the scraping of feet echoing faintly in the distance; the sounds of underground creatures. "Urist... You didn't have to rescue me..." I ventured, my voice echoing in the emptiness. "I would've deserved death by their hands." I heard the soft splash of a shallow pool beneath my feet as we walked onwards, spraying tiny droplets of cold water on my legs.
    He was silent for a moment, pausing as if thinking. "Was what you did in your own defense?"
    "No..."
    Urist paused again before speaking. "Do you regret it?"
    I nodded before remembering that he might not be looking in my direction. "Yes," I said. Tears sprang to my eyes and my voice faltered as I remembered the terrified face of the little blonde dwarfgirl. "I wish I'd never done it at all... I... I wish I could go back and change it... there's nothing I want more." My mind swam with mixed emotions; I felt as though I was falling through open space. All I wanted was for him to catch me.
    Urist stopped and turned. I felt him take my other hand in his. "Vanya..." he said quietly, "that is all that matters. I, too, have done horrible things I greatly regret. But because I regret them, I won't repeat those choices. Your past does not determine your future."

    As he spoke, far, far above, the clouds broke, sending a single ray of moonlight filtering through the caverns, shining through the roof. As if by magic, twisting, wavy reflections illuminated the walls, as the moonlight reflected off the surface of the pond in which we stood. I looked around in wonder, in awe at the incredible display of beauty... and then I looked back at Urist's face. His features... firm, clear-set... the handsome lantern jaw I'd once come to know him by...

    "Urist..." I whispered softly, lost in his amazing bedroom-brown eyes. Suddenly I remembered what I'd wanted to talk to him about, and I looked away in shame. "About what I said about you... after the Ballpoint mission..."
    "It's all right," he replied reassuringly. I glanced back at him, and he met my gaze, looking at me with a strange, thoughtful expression.
    The moonlight shifted, and I felt it falling directly on my face. It made me feel more open, somehow. "I never meant to hurt you..." I continued, my lips trembling with regret, "I just... I..."
    How does a person explain that they love someone who they can never have? I tried to calm my trembling lips; tried to still my beating heart, but to no avail. I wanted to laugh, I wanted to cry, but more than anything I wanted to throw my arms around him and just be. "Urist, I..."
    "Shhhh... It's all right," he repeated soothingly. "I understand." He had a look in his eyes I'd never seen from him before... a look that could only mean...
    It was only then that I realized: Urist loved me, too.

    The moonlight shifted again, throwing moonbeams upon the walls, glittering gems catching the reflections and throwing them about in a beautiful cascade of colors; the shining elven moonlight combining, intertwining, with the solid dwarven stone. I knew what was coming as he slowly moved his head towards mine, and I arched my neck in return, my lips tingling in eager anticipation of the inevitable kiss. Time was meaningless. I felt his arm behind the small of my back; I pressed closer towards him, my fingertips brushing lightly against his chest. The troubles of the world melted away. I closed my eyes, in a world of bliss. Somehow... amidst all the chaos, amidst all the worries and problems of my life... there was peace... so sweet, beautiful, and serene... and I'd finally, finally found it.

    "GRRRrrrrrOOOOOOAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR!"
    Urist pulled away from me, spinning towards the noise, his feet splashing in the water and sending muddy ripples everywhere, spoiling the reflections on the walls and darkening the cave. I felt my heart sink as I realized our moment had been ruined a second time.
    From the shadows, an alien form stomped out - spindly legs, a round body, a gaping mouth and huge, slitted yellow eyes. "A gorlak..." I whispered, removing the little doll from my blouse and re-examining it. It was the first real gorlak I'd ever seen, and only slightly shorter than me.
    "I will take care of it, Vanya," Urist said, taking up a well-practiced defensive stance towards the creature.
    "Don't kill it!" I said pleadingly. He looked back at me for a moment, and then nodded.
    The gorlak roared a second time and charged at Urist. That surprised me. From what I'd heard, gorlaks were peaceful creatures. "Urist!" I shouted in fright, covering my mouth in horror as the beast gored at him with its tusks. But Urist leapt out of the way with incredible skill, spinning around behind it and delivering a solid punch to its cranium. The beast moaned and fell to the floor, splashing in the shallow water and panting. Somewhere above us, a cloud seemed to pass before the moon, and the moonlight dimmed.
    "I said I would take care of it," Urist said as he returned. "It was not a problem."
    I nodded quietly, looking at the heaving form lying in the water. "Let's just go, Urist..."
    "We need the guns," he replied negatively, taking my hand and leading me towards the edge of the pool, further into the caverns.

    Before we'd walked more than three steps in that direction, we heard a low growl, and Urist slowed, signaling me to stop. Seconds later, several greenish shapes emerged from the shadows in front of us - gorlaks. I backed away from them, and Urist followed, but we didn't get very far before we heard a second set of growls from our left, and then more from our right. Dozens of them poured out into the little moonlit pool.
    "We're in a gorlak nest..." I whispered in stunned realization.
    "But how? So close to the surface?"
    I didn't have an answer, and could only shake my head in dismay. "Let's run..." I urged him. "We can fight some other time..."
    Slowly he nodded in agreement, trying to keep a vigilant eye on all of them. They growled at us, baring their tusks - they were clearly ticked off. When several of them investigated their fallen family member, their volume increased dramatically. I didn't have to know much about them to know they were murderously angry. We turned and fled for the doorway, only to find even more of the creatures blocking our path.
    "There's no way out!" I whispered hopelessly.
    Urist didn't seem so sure. "Vanya," he commanded, taking control of the situation, "Keep your back to mine at all times, and stay close! Do not be discouraged. We have a chance of surviving this."

    For the life of me, I couldn't see how he could be so optimistic with forty toothed monsters ringing us on all sides.

☆

[Talvieno]

A tiny portion of Mr Frog's mossy tunnels stretching beneath the fortress. Art by Talvieno.

Chapter 22: Gorlaks
    The leather-bound book appears to be nearing its end - no more than a few entries are left. For a moment, you stop reading, glancing around for a fourth journal, but after several minutes you give up. Mr Frog's laboratory, where you now stand, is well ordered, dusty as it is, and there don't appear to be any journals following this one of Vanya's.

    Urist explained to me once why soldiers fight for their countries, and he did it in a manner I could understand... I found it difficult to believe at first, but eventually I accepted it... because when it comes right down to it... it's true.
    Corporations, countries and fortresses are a lot like people. They have personalities, they can be good or evil, and they can be that infamous gray area. And just like people... they have problems. Some people can learn to love them despite these flaws; they can learn to devote their lives to them. And when the one they love is in trouble... they'll do anything to protect it from harm.
    They have fights too, just like people. Sometimes they fix it with words, but other times it breaks into fistfights and bloodshed... They have little quarrels and grudges; they have dreams and desires. None of them want to die... and they're willing to fight for their survival.
    There's always more than one way to look at something.

~~~

    The gorlaks that surrounded us numbered twenty at least, and I was beginning to panic. "Urist..." I whimpered, "What are we going to do?"
    "We are going to stay calm," he said, looking back at me coolly. "Mr Frog trained me in an advanced combat and training simulation room with others like Fischer herself. We will be fine."
    "You'll be fine!" I cried out unhappily. I scooted closer to him as the gorlaks slowly, cautiously approached. "They're going to kill me, though!"
    Urist's response stopped me in surprise. "I thought you wanted to die." A wry smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
    "I..." I didn't know what to say. "I... I don't know..."
    Knowing that Urist loved me changed things, but I didn't want to tell him that. Suddenly I had something to live for. It didn't matter if my sister had been real or a dream; it didn't matter that Mr Frog believed I was a failure. "I don't want to die anymore," I said, looking away. My eyes wandered back to the gorlaks that surrounded us, growling sinisterly.
    "I am not going to let you die. Just stay close."
    Somehow it quieted me, and I stood behind him, my back to his, watching the huge, tusked faces as they came ever nearer. They were protecting their nest... they saw us as a threat. They also weren't intelligent enough to realize we were just passing through.
    "Now!" I heard Urist yell, as he grabbed my hand, almost yanking my arm out of its socket as he barreled through the nearest side of the ring. The gorlaks appeared just as surprised as I was as we bowled them over onto their backs.

    The gorlaks remained behind us, growling and roaring at us as we escaped. "Urist, that was brilliant!" I laughed, as we ran through the caves. Everything was pitch-black again, but I didn't care. When you come seconds away from losing your life, little things like that feel trivial. For now, I was safe.
    At least, I thought I was, even if only for a few minutes. "This is a dead end," Urist finally said in his deep undertones.
    “What?” I was silent for a moment as I processed it, my merriment fading from my face. "What do you mean, 'a dead end'? We escaped... We're headed back to Spearbreakers now... ...aren't we?"
    I couldn't see him, but I could imagine the slow shake of his head, as he chuckled grimly, "It is always 'what?' with you." He slowed to a stop, and I matched my pace with the sound of his to keep from slamming into him. "Fortunately, we have the guns," Urist said in somber satisfaction, and I heard the creaking hinges of a chest opening, the sound of someone digging through metal objects within. "You will need to carry one of them."
    "What?” I began. “No! I'm not going to -" Urist pressed a cold metal object into my hands, and I stopped, feeling of its shape. It wasn’t hard to discern that it was a weapon.
    "If you do not put it to use, we may die as we pass back through," Urist warned.
    I puzzled it over in my mind, my feelings mixing and conflicting with each other like oil on water. "I don't want to die..." I whispered, my voice like an echo. "But... I don't want to kill anyone... or anything..." So soon after my "nightmare", the thought of using a gun again made my stomach turn.
    Suddenly I heard the chest slamming shut, and it startled me. "Come." Urist took my hand and began to lead me through the dark at a slower, quieter pace. I felt over the heavy weapon in my hand, testing its weight, and then I realized... I didn't even know which end was the front.

    Urist and I walked a while farther, pausing every now and then to listen, or in Urist's case, look. Before much longer, I was able to make out the reflection of moonlight on the muddied crystal pool, far ahead of us between the gently waving corridors carved through the rough, cracked rock.
    "There it is..." I whispered, once again awed by its peaceful serenity. "But where did all the gorlaks -" Urist quieted me with a finger to my lip. I understood what he meant. We couldn't make a sound. I had hopes that we might not even have to fight anything at all, and that they'd retreated into the shadows.
   
    We reached the edge of the pool chamber, and I listened carefully, my eyes wandering over the darkened ripple reflections on the walls, as embedded sheets of gemstone shimmered with an eerie beauty.
    Eyes ahead, Urist motioned for me to follow him, and I did, stepping as silently as I could across the little pool. I was quieter than a dwarf was, I'd noticed before. I didn't really know how that was even possible, and it’d never proved so useful before. I only wished Urist's little splashes in the water as he walked could make less noise.
   
    I heard it before Urist did – the low, ominous rumble of a gorlak. I don't know how it managed to sneak up. I spun, looking behind us into the eyes of a huge alpha gorlak, readying itself to leap upon us. It wasn't even three feet away.
    "Urist!!!" I yelled, throwing myself against him to try to knock him out of the way, just as I had done two years before at the depot. This time, however, either I misaimed my leap, or he stepped out of the way: I slipped beside him and fell as the gorlak charged Urist, knocking him onto his face in the cold pool. I scrambled for my weapon, trying to figure out which direction was the front, but Urist was ahead of me.
    Urist spun, even lying down, and scooted backwards away from the creature as he fired rounds into its face. The gorlak managed to take several steps forwards, shuddering as the bullets ripped through its skin, and finally fell prostrate to the floor. Little slow-spreading specks of blood dotted the water around us, and around the dead creature it reddened to a deep crimson.
    "Vanya, get up. We need to go," Urist said. He grabbed my hand, and for once, he didn't seem calm. A quick glance around the room told me why: hordes of gorlaks were standing in the shadows just outside the room. They’d witnessed our actions… and they looked very, very angry.
    "There's so many..." I breathed, glancing about at them in bewildered fright. I felt my legs raise me from the water beside Urist, felt the assault rifle level itself in my hands. "I don't want to die..." I whispered, and my voice increased in volume as I repeated it: "I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die!" Only minutes earlier I'd discovered the happiest thing I'd felt since my sister had died: love. I didn't want to lose it. “I don’t want to die...”
    "Then don't." Urist said simply.
    Biting my lip, I braced myself for the recoil and pulled the trigger.

    Click.


    Urist had given me Hans' empty weapon by mistake.

    The multitude of greenish, tusked beasts rushed towards us, roaring in unison as they charged. I readied the gun like a mace - it certainly felt heavy enough. I only hoped it would be.
    "Armok hear me!" Urist shouted, his voice echoing, reverberating through the caverns as he raised his subrailgun, and with a long, loud yell, he fired into their ranks, blood splashing and spattering everywhere. I turned away just in time to sidestep a charging gorlak, bringing the assault rifle down with a loud crack on the back of its head, watching as it careened away, stumbling and coming to an abrupt stop against a wall. A second gorlak charged - a third, a forth, a fifth, seven, twelve - it was all I could do to avoid being gored, ducking between them and jumping out of the way as they charged like raging bulls, oblivious to each other and anything around them. Several collided and fell, but I only glanced at them for a moment before smashing a second one in the tusks as it passed. I can't imagine how Urist was able to dodge so many and fire at the same time.
    "Vanya!" I heard him yell, and I looked back at him in the center of the pool, all but his lower body concealed by the darkened, angry shapes of confused gorlaks that milled between us - I was standing at the edge of the room, separated from Urist by dozens of the creatures.
    "Urist, I'm okay!" I called back, dodging another gorlak. Suddenly one knocked me in the back from behind. I flew forwards into two more. They were slow until they charged and built up speed, but they were clumsy. Even so, there were so many.
    "FOR ARMOK'S GLORY!" Urist yelled as a battle cry, raising his weapon and firing towards the ceiling. It cracked as the bullets from his subrailgun slammed into it. First splinters of stone and dust cascaded and scattered at the impacts, and finally entire boulders broke away with loud, resounding cracks, crushing the bewildered beasts below as they cascaded downwards. I tried to struggle to my feet, one gorlak after another knocked me aside, bruising my arms and legs. Finally I came face to face with an alpha gorlak that stood over me, ready to gore me with its tusks. A second stepped on my arm, a third on one of my legs - they may look short, but they're incredibly heavy.
    I tried to get away, but I couldn't move, trapped beneath the weight of several gorlaks. I heard myself scream as the alpha propelled itself towards me in a furious charge, and looking into my foe's large, overbearing yellow eyes as it came, I was sure it was the end.
   
    But it never reached me... instead, it erupted in a mass of entrails and blood, severed cleanly in half. Gore splattered my face, and everything seemed to quiet as its lower body stumbled forwards, bouncing, rolling with inertia, legs flailing, spilling guts and organs at my feet even as its upper half spun in the air above.
    With a sickening squish, the upper half landed atop its lower body, and the halved eyes stared at me glassily as the corpse seemed to deflate, sinking to the floor in a pile of misshapen flesh. The gorlaks around me moved away in surprise, freeing my limbs, and I leapt to my feet.
   
    "Get DOWN!!" someone roared from behind me. I reflexively threw myself out of the way and into a corner. I heard a whir, and a screech of metal - across the room, a row of gorlaks exploded messily, their shredded faces gaping as they crumpled to the floor. When I spun in the direction of the sound, I saw someone I'd never thought I'd be grateful to see.

    Mr Frog stood in the entrance to the moonlit cave, wearing a grim, menacing expression, and carrying a huge weapon that looked like a tall "T". From his chainmail quiver he pulled a foot-long metal bar, slamming it down firmly on the weapon with a reverberating clang. With a multitude of clicks, the bar expanded, spiraling into the shape of a serrated disc, and it began to spin... faster, faster, faster, until the air itself seemed to scream as its toothed edge sliced through. The gorlaks were almost upon him, and then, with a screeching whir, it shot forwards, sending gorlak blood and limbs spraying in all directions as their bodies flew apart. I saw the blade strike the far cave wall with a screech like chalk on a board before it exploded, sending shrapnel everywhere.
    I looked quickly back towards Mr Frog where he stood. He caught my glance and narrowed his eyes at me. "Just stay out of the way," he growled, scowling in hatred and disgust at the twig-legged creatures that charged him en masse.
    Another bar slammed down, spiraled, spun, screamed through the masses of gorlaks as they imploded everywhere, and still they charged - another bar, another shot, and again, again - limbs left bloody smears as they flew against the walls; sliced tusks rolled and spun about the ground, tripping up the few creatures that were still alive.
    I was so distracted I didn't notice the gorlaks that were charging me until it was too late.

    "YAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I heard Urist yell as he leapt up the wall nearby, firing his weapon down onto the heads of the gorlaks as he ran in my direction atop the gems and crystals that protruded from the stone. Another whir, another slice - Mr Frog's weapon obliterated another line of gorlaks, spraying gore and innards.
    "Are you all right?" Urist yelled out to me as he landed to my left and knocked a charging gorlak backwards with the butt of his weapon.
    I could only bring myself to nod, wide-eyed at the chaos around me. Gorlaks were running in all directions, no longer out of hatred of our intrusion, but in blind fear.
    Mr Frog approached us rapidly with furrowed brow, his cloak billowing behind him as he pulled a hat back into place upon his head. "Stupid, stupid girl..." he muttered, "what have you gotten yourself into?" Then, louder, "Both of you, come with me," he ordered. "You've attracted Ballpoint's attention, and we must leave this place now." Saying this, he turned and left through the entrance to my left.
    I felt Urist grab my hand, and together we fled the crimson pool, headed back towards Spearbreakers.

    "Sus the Second and a few other dwarves are working to distract the Ballpoint soldiers," Mr Frog informed us as he led us briskly through the dark, shining a flashlight to light the way. "Vanya, you've really gotten yourself into trouble this time."
    "I wasn't meaning to," I managed after a moment. I was still somewhat shell-shocked from all the bloodshed I'd witnessed. "I had a memory... I had to see if it was true..."
    Mr Frog stopped and spun, shining his light in my eyes as he peered into my face. "Define 'memory'," he said slowly, leveling an icy gaze.
    My mouth opened as if to speak, but I couldn't make a sound. I did hear far-off footsteps in the cave, though.
    The scientist heard them, too. "Bah," he muttered. "They come quickly. We'll discuss this later." Saying this, he continued forwards towards one of the tunnel walls. Upon reaching it, he pressed his hand firmly against it, almost as if testing the sturdiness of the rock, but then it began to move... The edges of the wall seemed to glow faintly with a bluish light as a greenish circle formed on the floor, casting an eerie gleam around it. It wasn't long before the wall had completely disappeared. I glanced over at Urist to see his reaction, but was disappointed to find that there wasn't enough light for me to tell anything.
    "Come," Mr Frog said, switching off his flashlight and motioning for us to follow.
   
    He led us forwards for several minutes, through dim tunnels lit only by hanging bioluminescent moss. Stepping on it extinguished the faint light the moss created, and I soon found myself carefully stepping around it. Mr Frog didn't seem to care, continuing at his usual brisk pace.
    "I sincerely regret that you procured such an ill-advised receptacle for your Ballpoint weaponry," Mr Frog spoke, shattering the stillness. "That was a ridiculously imprudent decision, Urist. A wisely chosen storage facility is conveniently located and accessed without complications in dire emergencies. Moreover, you've moronically decimated one of my more recent biological experiments."
    "Those were your gorlaks, then..." Urist said. He sounded almost accusing, and I don't blame him. I was angry myself.
    "Of course, you harebrained dolt." The insult rolled coolly off the scientist's tongue. "Any differing line of hypothetical reasoning is preposterously nonsensical. How else would I have known to bring my prototypical serrated disc launcher? It's only half-finished... I regret that its firepower is as yet underwhelming, but it cannot be helped."
    I gaped at Mr Frog's back in astonishment as we continued walking. "That was a prototype? 'Half-finished'? It slaughtered those poor creatures!" I paused for a second, remembering an earlier question I'd had: "Why were they attacking us, anyway?" I'd always believed that gorlaks were peaceful.
    "I was instilling aggressive tendencies in them through selective breeding processes. But it is irrelevant now - the experiment was a failure. And that was your fault, stupid girl." He sent an icy glance in my direction as he continued onwards down the tunnel.
    Urist glanced over at me, his face barely visible in the dim, blue-green moss-light. I couldn't meet his gaze, and looked away, feeling my face grow hot.
    Mr Frog halted abruptly, turning back towards me with a suspicious stare. "And what was the occasion of this idiotic midnight escapade? What 'memory' was it that you had?"

    I didn't want to tell Mr Frog I'd killed so many Ballpoint agents... I didn't remember anything about it other than that memory, and I hadn't even known about it until tonight. It hadn't seemed like it was me, either. I felt the little gorlak doll in my blouse. I remembered the terrified look on the little girl's face, and I felt my throat tightening. "I don't know..." I whispered.
    The stare deepened to a piercing glare. "You... don't... know..." he intoned slowly, scratching his beard. "I seriously doubt the legitimacy of that statement."
    Urist spoke up beside me. "She's been through a lot tonight," he began in my defense. "Perhaps if she -"
    "Excuses!" Mr Frog said, holding up a hand to signal Urist to stop. "It is insufficient to explain this thoughtless bumble. Now, you... Stupid, stupid girl..." He turned to me, speaking as if the words were acid on his tongue. "Memory. Explain. Now."
    My lip trembled. I was seconds from tears; I didn't want to cry in front of either of them, and I especially didn't want Urist to know the extent of what I'd done.

    "Mr Frog, stop this," Urist said, stepping in front of me. "Give the girl a chance to calm herself, or you won't get anything out of her."
    My heart froze at the ensuing silence, and I worried that Mr Frog might do something terrible. The windless air, thick with tension, seemed more difficult to breathe. Finally, Mr Frog spoke. "Very well..." he said slowly, "you may leave us, Urist. I will give her 'a chance to calm herself'."
    "...leave you?" Urist asked in confusion. "I do not know these paths."
    "We stand in an intersection," Mr Frog replied, pressing on the wall to his left. With a bluish glow, it scrolled down into the floor with the rumble of machinery. "Take this path; it will place you near the barracks. Vanya and I have a different path to follow."
    With one last, long look at me, Urist slowly turned and left. I watched him wistfully as he walked away through the moss-lit side tunnel, wondering when I would see him again.
    The wall scrolled back up into its original position, blocking my view of my friend, and Mr Frog opened a different hallway to his right. "Come," he commanded, leading me forwards into the darkness.


    After walking a while, we finally emerged in the upper layers of the fortress, just below the watchtowers. Together, Mr Frog and I climbed the spiraling stairs of our oldest tower until we reached the top, fifty feet above the plains. There was a cold breeze in the night air, flowing from the west, and I tucked a few stray strands of hair behind my ear from where they blew across my face. The light of the moon far above provided faint illumination, and I looked up at it where it lay among scattered clouds. I'd forgotten how beautiful it was... it had been five years since I'd seen it last... five years since I'd seen the sky. Five long years since I'd felt the wind on my face. My heart calmed its anxious beating as I felt myself relax, and I took a deep breath. I could smell fir and feather trees, the sweet scent of long-aged oak. Far above us, the stars twinkled in the sky - myriads upon myriads of them, like tiny needle pricks in the heavens through which shined Armok's fires.
    I walked over to the fortifications, laying my hands gently on the rough stone and gazing up dreamily at the serene beauty of the night. I inhaled again, catching the faint, sweet smell of rain. I felt so free... so alive... caught up in wonderment at it all.
    "What are we..." I breathed in a whipser, "to spoil such beauty?"
    Behind me, slow, soft footsteps approached. I looked back at Mr Frog, who had an atypical expression on his face. He looked calm and thoughtful. "That's the elf in you talking," he spoke quietly, stopping beside me and gazing upwards. He didn't sound accusatory, only observant.
    Looking back up at the sky, I considered his words. I'd always tried to be a dwarf, even if I knew I wasn't. "No..." I said quietly, "We bring out the beauty of the living stone. It is ugly 'til we smooth it, 'til we engrave it with our love. 'The beauty of earthen gems sparkles brighter than the trees; better a single engraved hall than a thousand unfelled forests,'" I said, quoting an old king. I was silent for a moment. "I may be an elf, but I have the mind of a dwarf..." I whispered thoughtfully, almost with a touch of pride. "Even so... I still respect beauty... but that doesn't make me an elf."
    "And I respect serviceability," Mr Frog added. "That doesn't make me a goblin. But remove your gaze from the starlight - look down below us in the fields."
    I did so, and was shocked at what I saw. Gone were the meager entrances I'd passed through when I'd migrated to the fortress, instead replaced with moonlit towers and wide, paved roads of stone. It glistened beneath the moon with recent rain, and scattered puddles reflected the light with a silvery gleam. Mr Frog pointed to my left, and I followed his hand with my eyes, up sturdy bastions of shale, up columns and beautiful fortifications that rose steadfastly from the ground. Patrolling the far-off torchlit towers and walkways were dwarven guards, their adamantine armor glinting as they walked.
    "It's beautiful..." I said, both awed and confused, "but how is this all here? I've known nothing of it until now..." I thought for sure I would've heard something of such a project.
    Mr Frog turned from the fortification and started walking away. I turned and followed him slowly with my eyes as he walked to the other side of the tower, and looked up in amazement at a massive metal fist raising its middle finger towards the sky. I'd never seen anything like it before at all, not even at the mountainhome. I could only shake my head in disbelief.
    Finally, Mr Frog spoke, raising his voice to send it through the chilly night air. "It was Ballpoint," he said simply. "Count Splint wasn't satisfied with cleaning up the corpses. He paid the Ballpoint soldiers with hundreds of mugs, ingots of iron, and adamantine wafers, all to keep them here. We didn't build these beautiful structures - after all, how could we have, in so short a time? No... Ballpoint has taken over Spearbreakers. All the Parasol agents have either fled, or died. Wari is gone, too. This is why they're still here, and how they can keep watch for you. It's part of why Urist had to leave earlier this year."
    His words puzzled me. "It was Ballpoint?" I asked. "But it's all so beautiful..."
    "Do not be fooled, young one. Evil can create beauty as well."
    "Young one?" I repeated. I hadn't wondered before... but how old was Mr Frog exactly?
    He answered my unasked question, pacing slowly across the stone rooftop. "I am three-hundred and twelve years of age, Vanya. I was here when Ballpoint released the Spawn... It's not something I'm proud of... but now, in my own way, I'm making amends."
    "Three hundred years?"
    "Gnomes live longer than dwarves..."

    For a time, I watched him, suddenly realizing how he seemed so wise, so ancient. Gnomes... it was something I'd only heard of in fairy tales. However, Mr Frog had come from a different world... one I would probably never see. I thought it all over silently - Ballpoint, and Spearbreakers, and Parasol... and the ever-lurking threat of Joseph and Eris.
    "Mr Frog..." I said quietly, "I have something to tell you. The reason I left my room tonight..."


    The old scientist listened as I explained my recent revelation, nodding and scratching his beard thoughtfully. Finally the tale ended, and I quieted, wiping my moist eyes with my fingertips.
    "Hmm..." he mused. "There is no need for you to feel guilty for those actions."
    "What?"
    A flickering smile crossed his lips. In the open air, he seemed more relaxed, and less threatening. For a moment, I could almost see him as a grandfather, telling his grandchildren bedtime stories. "Always, always 'what'. You should attempt to discern the reasoning behind a person's statements before engaging in blind speech," he advised. "But in this case, I shall explain.
    "Your actions weren't your own, Vanya. An agent of Parasol was controlling you. This is what a 'Fallback' or 'Sleeper' agent is. They 'sleep' until awakened, and then 'sleep' while they perform their duties. Your actions weren't your own. They were Parasol's."
    "But..." It seemed all too easy to place the blame on someone else, almost as if it was a trap I was stumbling into. "But I still did those things - I killed those people."
    "And then your memory was erased when the objective was complete. Your agent side went back to sleep. I have only a slight knowledge of the psychotechnical tendencies of Parasol... but now that I know more about your situation, we might be able to learn more from those hidden memories of yours... I might be able to recover some things that have lain hidden for quite some time."
    "Another remembrance potion?" I asked.
    He nodded as he turned back towards the steps, his eyes lingering on the birds perched on the walls. "Correct. Now come - it is late, and tomorrow starts sooner than you think."

☆

[Talvieno]

Chapter 23: The Revelation
This is a journal. It is bound in giant emu leather. You vaguely recall Count Splint's attachment to the birds, and find it somewhat amusing that someone would use them in this manner. On the cover of the journal is a five-pointed star in gold leaf. As you remember, the dwarves found very little gold beneath Spearbreakers, and you marvel at how Mr Frog apparently thought Vanya merited such a gift. Or, perhaps... it meant so little to him that he gave it away freely. Perhaps you'll never know for sure.

    I lay on the bed by Mr Frog, listening to him repeat things softly in my ear as the drugs took effect... I'd always been skeptical of hypnosis, but... everything seemed to be fading. My last thought was that maybe there was something to it after all.
__________

    A door exploded inwards through the white-tiled room, leaving deep gashes in the huge red-and white Parasol emblem on the floor as it careened down a far-reaching hallway. A squad of Ballpoint soldiers rushed in through the breach, fanning out and securing the perimeter of the lobby. The area was oddly empty, given how its wide-open expanse seemed to suggest it had been built for potential crowds. As the soldiers scanned the area, a receptionist ducked behind a smooth, shiny desk of black marble, about to call for reinforcements, but he wasn't fast enough - a railgun round ripped through the barrier of stone, flinging the man into the wall. The man never knew what hit him - his limbs flew everywhere, spilling blood in artful arcs as they pirouetted through the air.

    "Get them in here!" the commander shouted, opening the visor on his dark-gray helmet and revealing a battle-scarred face. "We don't have much time to do this - that battle down at engineering will only keep so many of those Parasol bastards occupied! They're a distraction, not our protection!"
    Behind him, two soldiers rushed in, leading two young girls who were bound at the wrists. Their ages appeared to be around 14 and 17, and they were clearly terrified. "Let us go, please!" the older one cried, tugging uselessly at her captors. "We haven't done anything!"
    "Shut them up," the commander ordered, and the girls received firm cuffs to the head. "Gently, you idiots!" the man roared. "Intelligence claims they need to be conscious during the operation! I want them unharmed! Where the fuck is Intel, anyway?"
    "Here, Commander Raza!" a man yelled, panting as he ran towards them down a side hallway. He was wearing a white Parasol uniform, but he held up a blue Ballpoint shoulder patch as he ran. "Dark Agent Jensky, reporting for -"
    "Shut up, soldier, and get in line!" Raza growled. "Where's the room?"
    "This way, sir."
    Raza began spouting orders. "You two, bring the girls. Up-top wants this done quick. The rest of you, protect them, delta-bravo initiative. We'll likely be encountering heavy fire as we go, so expect the worst. Snipe any cameras you see with your lasguns, and let's MOVE!"
    As one, the squad filed back into formation. The younger of the two girls whimpered as the soldiers dragged her forwards. She could hardly keep up.
    "It'll be okay," the older one promised her, just above a whisper. "Just stay calm. We'll be fine." Her quavering voice belied her true feelings on the matter.
    "I don't wanna die!" the younger girl whimpered, in tears. "I don't wanna die!"
    The older girl looked wistfully at the other as they jogged along, and then her bound hands, as if wishing she could put her arms around her and comfort her.

The scene dissolves in a bright-white flash of light.

    Gunfire erupted from a hallway on the left, and the girls found themselves pulled roughly to the ground.
    A Parasol squad had lain in waiting as the Ballpoint team had progressed, and had caught them by surprise. Two Ballpoint soldiers fell, their brains and organs splattered on the walls. "COVER, MOVE!" Raza yelled, jumping back after firing a few well-placed rounds into Parasol skulls. The Ballpoint team regrouped behind the corner. As the older girls watched, Raza gave several hand motions, which the soldiers seemed to understand. As one force, they leapt around the corner, sprinting forwards as bullets flew from the muzzles of their guns, the gap narrowing quickly from ten feet to one. Raza reached the enemy and sliced through two of their helmets with his buzzsaw bayonet, blood splashing againt the insides of their visors as the soldiers fell dead to the floor. Behind them, the two girls lay on the ground, staring in wide-eyed horror at the dead soldiers. Neither of them could remember having seen battle before.

    "Get them up. Renson, Famar, take them. Jensky, how far are we now?" Raza barked out as he returned, warm blood still spattered across his armor. His crew answered promptly, and the little entourage continued down the spotless corridors of Parasol. "We're going to need backup..." the commander muttered. He considered the whole operation foolhardy and pointless, but he wasn't about to disrespect his superiors. Bad things happened to disobedient soldiers... usually either executions or exile, and sometimes both. He'd heard the tales - scientists placed in the middle of their own deadly experiments as punishment. At Ballpoint, such things as alcohol and drug abuse were enough to merit death. He knew better than to disobey orders.

The scene dissolves in a bright-white flash of light.

    "Here it is," said Jensky, holding a fake eye up to a retinal scanner. A door beside it opened with a whish.
    Commander Raza held up his hand. "Quiet," he ordered. Everyone listened, and they soon heard the telltale sounds of footsteps. How the commander's ears were so sharp, the rest of his squad had no idea. Soon he was working a battle plan, this time in quieter undertones. "Jensky, get those girls in there. The rest of you, take up defensive positions. You three, set up the plasmid generators, we're going to need some cover. I'm estimating twenty... thirty enemy units, two lines, light weapons. B-model battlesuits, slight wear. I doubt they'll have anything heavier than an assault rifle, so explosives shouldn't be a problem. Now move!" This last was uttered quietly, but with great emphasis, and the soldiers hurried about their tasks, setting up devices that created low, translucent, bluish walls of light that shimmered with contained energy. The soldiers took cover, crouching against the blue walls and aiming their weapons in the direction Raza indicated.
    Jensky did as asked, roughly pulling the girls into the darkened room and closing the door until it touched. A row of chairs sat lined against a console, and through a sloped window, they could see a brightly lit, white-walled room lined with machinery, and a sloped operating table.
    But Jensky didn't seem to care about any of this. He led the younger girl down the steps and into the operating room, and then locked the glass door behind her, turning to the eldest with narrowed eyes. "Vanya Carena..." he muttered, with a grim, wicked, hateful expression. "I've wanted to get my hands on you for the longest time..."
    "What?" she asked, starting to back away, but too late - a firm backhand caught her across the cheek. Her head hit the wall with a crack, and she crumpled dizzily to the floor. Behind them, the younger girl started banging with her bound fists and screaming as she watched the other's torment helplessly. Outside the room, gunfire echoed, and bullets ricocheted about the halls as the skirmish commenced.
    "You know exactly what!!" Jensky fumed, walking forwards and towering over his stunned prisoner. "You outright murdered over a dozen Ballpoint agents, and one of them was MY WIFE!!!!" With this last word, he sent a well-aimed kick at the girl's chest, knocking the wind out of her. He watched with a hateful sneer as she struggled to catch her breath.
    "Please!" she gasped out, holding up her bound hands as if to defend herself. Tears streaked her dirty face. "I don't know what you're talking about -"
    A cruel kick to the side of the head interrupted this last, followed by a solid stomp on the girl's fingers. She screamed in pain, and Jensky seemed to enjoy it. "'I don't know what you're talking about'," he mocked in a high-pitched voice, snarling viciously. "You killed my wife and son, you little fucking bitch! We got it all on camera!"
    Vanya rolled over and started to scoot away, trying to get to her feet. The heavy metal stock of a subrailgun caught her squarely in the back, and with a pained moan she fell back to her knees.
    "You filthy little bitch..." the man fumed, "He wasn't even a year old! He couldn't have done a thing to you! And you killed them both!"
    Behind them, a little girl pounded relentlessly on the glass door, her screams muffled by the material. "Stop! Stop! Let her go!" she cried, but no one heard her.
    "It wasn't me!" Vanya protested, scooting away from her intimidating antagonist. "I didn't do anything! I've never killed anyone! I'd never -" The barrel of Jensky's weapon caught her across the arms, then across the legs as he swung at her with livid, half-aimed strokes.
    "That was my FAMILY, you sick fuck!!" Jensky yelled, his face contorted with rage. "Losa would never hurt anyone!! She didn't deserve death! And you kicked her back into the pit along with my little baby!!!" The man punched the girl again in the face, then kicked her in the chest, sending her backwards into the wall.
    "I didn't do anything! I didn't do anything!" she screamed in fear as Jensky approached. Below the hem of her skirt, the painful gash on her leg dripped with blood. She had a nosebleed, and every bone and muscle was sore from the blows. She felt it all.
    The soldier ripped her old, grayish beanie from her head, revealing her pointed ears. "I guess that's about what you'd expect from an elf," he muttered, spitting to the side as he muttered the hateful word. The young woman looked at him in terror, trying desperately to get away. Jensky halted her escape by standing on her bare foot.
    "Vanya! Vanya! No! She didn't do anything! Stop!" the little girl screamed from the other side of the door, pounding violently on the glass as she watched the man grab the older girl by the hair and pull her to her feet.
    "You have no idea how much pain you've caused me," he growled venomously, his lips twisting in anger as he glared at his captive. Tears spilled from her eyes at the intense pain from her scalp, and she found it too painful to cry out. She was sure that at least one of her ribs was broken from his kicks. Vanya squinted her eyes shut, bracing herself for whatever he was going to do next.
    The little girl watched in horror as Jensky aimed the muzzle at her sister's tear-streaked face.

The scene dissolves in a bright-white flash of light.

    A battle-stained Ballpoint squad stepped gingerly over the body in the middle of the floor as they took positions inside and outside the series of rooms. Raza had arrived just in time, firing a bullet into Jensky's head before he'd had a chance to kill the older of the two captives. "I said they're to be unharmed!" he yelled. "Where's the medic? Get this girl patched up, and get the little one strapped onto that table! And where the fuck is Kannan?!"
    "Right here, sir!" a dwarf said, rushing into the room. Vanya stared at him in surprise - it was Dr. Kannan from Spearbreakers. She recognized him. A return glance from him seemed to imply that he recognized her, too.
    Vanya sat quietly as a medic patched her up with technology she'd never even dreamed of before - special salves that seemed to erase pain; odd foaming gels that could patch cuts almost instantly. She turned, looking into the brightly lit room beside her, watching as the soldiers unbound her sister and strapped her onto one of the tables. "What are you doing?!" she screamed, struggling against the medic's grip, trying to get to her feet. "Let her go! Don't hurt her!"
    "Vanya!" her sister cried out, tears pooling in her eyes.
    The elder sister somehow managed to break free, rushing forwards down the little staircase, headed to her sister's side, but she never reached her.
    Raza appeared, growling in annoyance, and taking Vanya by the arm with a grip of steel, he escorted her out of the operating chamber. "Neither of you will get hurt, if you don't resist. Understood?" Without waiting for a response, he turned to his team and singled two of them out. "You two get her situated," he ordered.
    "She's my sister!" Vanya said in protest, trying uselessly to pull away from Commander Raza.
    "That doesn't matter," someone laughed mockingly from behind. "It won't be long before we take her away. You won't be seeing her again, you little shit."
    The commander spun. "Shut up, Renson!" he ordered. "Do your fucking job and quit trying to upset them!"
    "Just stay calm!" Vanya called out to the younger girl, twisting around to look back towards her. "I promise I'll find you! Just stay calm, don't give them any reason to hurt you!" The girl on the table started sobbing. "Stay calm, Salaia! Deep breaths. They won't hurt you, they promised!"
    "I don't want them to take me away! I don't want to lose you!"
    "You'll never lose me!" Vanya cried out, her voice shaking with repressed sobs. "We'll be together again, I promise!"
    The glass door between the two sisters closed, the clear material swirling with darkness as the room behind it faded from view.

The scene dissolves in a bright-white flash of light.

    A girl lay on an operating table under a bright light in a strangely alien room, among technology that seemed to come from beyond the stars. She was scared, but somehow she felt peaceful. Whether it was the shot they’d given her or not, she didn't know. They’d told her she was going to forget her sister; they’d told her she was going to forget many things. As two gray-suited soldiers lowered a device onto her head, she closed her eyes and thought as hard as she could about her sister. She wouldn't forget, she thought defiantly. She'd never forget. She hadn't seen where they'd taken her, but someday... she would find her sister again. She was sure of it.
    The talk of soldiers echoed through the room, but they were but ghostly voices, only faintly audible, like the whispers of the wind. "Do whatever it takes. Wipe anything in her head it looks like Parasol changed; anything that looks out of place. Wipe anything associated with strong bonds, and that should get her sister. Do it as forcefully as you have to. I don't want to have a mess to clean up after this."
    A quiet hum reverberated through her mind and soul. She felt disconnected from the world for a moment, as her mind became clearer, rearranged, separated from itself.

The scene dissolves in a bright-white flash of light.



~~~

    I bolted upright suddenly in the chair, my vision clearing as if emerging from underwater. I could hear the sounds of machinery in the distance as it echoed down the hallways and through the unyielding stone.
    "My sister was real!" I gasped, staring in shock at Mr Frog. "Her name was Salaia, and she was real!"
     He nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "So I heard..." Mr Frog responded. "You described the events very clearly while under hypnosis. You would make a good writer or journalist, if you lived elsewhere."
    I thought back over my memories, and suddenly, for the first time - I could remember my sister. In every memory where she'd been, I could see her. No longer was her face mysteriously missing... I could imagine it perfectly: every little detail, from the point of her ears she kept under an old sun hat, to her little nose, her dark hair, and her silver-green eyes that matched mine exactly. "How could I have forgotten her..." I could see it in my mind now - her nimble dancing as she and I fought with daggers in the mountainhome arena - her terrified expression as we moved through Spawn-infested territory. I saw her walking beside me with her possessions as we walked among the other migrants into Spearbreakers, hidden in the rear. I saw her laugh as we ate a stolen meal, I could remember awakening in the middle of the night just to check to see if she was okay.
    I could remember her. And she was real.

    "It wasn't your fault that you forgot her," Mr Frog said. "Certain memories of yours were erased, and rather roughly... if it consoles you, you never completely forgot about her. You simply believed she was dead, and in your mind, that explained what had happened. You thought you couldn't recall her because you didn't want to think about her anymore, to save yourself from further pain."
    "But where is she now?"
    Mr Frog stood from where he sat on his bed and began pacing about the room, scratching his beard thoughtfully. "It would seem to me..." he began, "that they took her on as a spy. They obviously observed you as you killed their friends, and realized that an ally such as yourself would prove useful to them... However, you were already marked by Parasol... so they chose your sister."
    Then it dawned on me, and my eyes widened. "Carena..." I whispered.
    The old scientist nodded slowly. "Precisely."
   
    I looked back into my mind; saw Ballpoint's Carena standing in the room, talking to Joseph on a PEA. She had pointed ears like mine, as I'd noticed before, and she looked so much like me it was incredible I hadn't thought of it. With the help of Mr Frog's potion, I could remember even the smallest details... ...right down to the golden bracelet on her wrist.
    This reminded me of something else. I felt myself thinking back to my mission at Ballpoint, just before I met Halion. A woman was walking down the hallway ahead of me, and I'd followed her. "Not sure," she'd said. "Breach in D-Sector. Sounds like there might be heavy casualties." On her arm: a golden bracelet.
    I'd been so close to her, and I hadn't even had a clue.

    Mr Frog's voice interrupted my thoughts. "This also explains how your combat abilities vanished," he said slowly. "Ballpoint covered it over, but that change required your bracelet to maintain it. When you got came into close proximity of it after a year, it removed them again, but during that previous year the abilities gradually came back to you, thus permitting you to take down the trained soldiers in the halls."
    "But why wasn't I able to use them when Jensky was attacking me?"
    "Simple," he said, turning away towards the door, his cloak undulating gently. "You weren't trying to fight back."

~~~

    I approached Mr Frog later that night. It wasn't something I'd ever done before, as I'd been worried I'd upset him, but this time I really didn't care.
    "Mr Frog..." I began hesitantly, watching him intently.
    He looked up from his work, surprised, and removed his glasses. "Yes, Vanya? Is there a problem?"
    "I want to save my sister."
    The gnome nodded, putting his glasses back on and peering over his schematics, making a couple careful notes with his pen. "I had a feeling you would make that request."
    "All I have to do is destroy her bracelet, and then her memories will come back eventually." He didn't respond this time, and I tried again. "I need to save her, sir..." I knew from experience that this last part would agitate him, and I was hoping it would allow me to gain his full attention.
    It did. He put his pen down and looked at me carefully. "And I need my PEA, but you seemed to be incapable of retrieving it throughout your unsuccessful attempts. And don't call me 'sir'. Call me 'Mr Frog'. Not 'Mr. Mr Frog' or 'Sir Mr Frog' and especially not 'Mister'!"
    "I know you want your PEA... And I'll get it for you. I promise. Send me again, this time I'll manage it," I said, trying to bargain with him. I didn't have much to go on, but he seemed to be in a good mood - "good mood" meaning "not going to bite my head off immediately".
    "If they find you, they will know who you are," he warned. "They will likely kill you."
    I swallowed. I'd thought this over before. "I know..." I told him. "But I have to try. I promised I'd protect her, and I have to get her back. Even... Even if they kill me," I finished quietly. After four years, I knew that my sister was real. I knew for sure who and where she was. I was jubilant that she was real, and that I could remember her, but at the same time, I knew she was in great danger where she was. And I really, really didn't want her to work for Ballpoint.
    Mr Frog nodded and turned back to his work. "Very well."
    His nonchalant response made me do a double take. "What?" Was it really that easy? "That's it? You'll let me go?"
    "Of course. I actually requested that Talvi create a suit for you several months ago, but I decommissioned it when it became clear that Splint was keeping the Ballpoint soldiers around. I commissioned it again earlier today, upon discovering information on your sister's true identity from your recent revelations. I will require that you be content to wait several months until the Ballpoint soldiers evacuate the premises and everything settles down, of course, but -"
    He stopped abruptly - I'd leapt forwards and given him a hug, tears of joy in my eyes. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I laughed happily. I hugged him for a few moments, blissfully ignorant of the fact that he really, really didn't appreciate the gesture.
    "That's enough of that," Mr Frog said sternly, pushing me away with a gentle hand. "Go back to your room and get some sleep. You have much studying to do tomorrow."
    I nodded, and with a final "Thank you!" I started towards my room, unable to wipe the smile from my face.

    That night I lay in bed, tasting her name on my tongue. "Her name was Salaia..." I whispered, a loving smile tugging at my lips as I said it. I had a little sister.
    I couldn't wait to tell Urist.

☆

[Talvieno]

Chapter 24: The Search
Vanya's leather-bound journal continues in her flowing script. As always, neither date nor signature adorns the pages. The only identifying mark is Vanya's five-pointed star at the end of the entry. There are only a handful of pages left before the writing disappears. You aren't looking forwards to the end of Vanya's journals, but still, you read onwards, curious as to what happened to the girl.

   Time seems to go faster as you get older. I don't know why, but I heard talk about it around the fires, back when I was a skulker lurking in the halls of the fortress. Some dwarves claim it's a little bug growing in your head, and it messes with your "internal time bells". It sounds like something Mr Frog would call "nonsensical pseudoscience". Other people say that your brain slows down as you get older. I don't know if this makes sense or not... I seem to faintly recall seconds passing by quicker when I was a child - it seemed I had to say "one blood-sacrifice, two blood-sacrifice, three blood-sacrifice" so, so much slower than I find natural now, when I was counting seconds. I'm currently 21, I think... or possibly 20... it's hard to know when you don't know what day your birthday is.
    There's a third theory, though, that makes more sense to me: that you experience time by events you remember, and you remember unfamiliar events better than familiar ones. This might explain why I remember helping Talvi so vividly, even two years later... and why the day-to-day life with Mr Frog seems to speed by so quickly, though the days themselves seem slow.

    It's been several months since my last entry, and a lot has happened at Spearbreakers... Reudh is the new overseer now, for one thing. He insists everyone call him "Lord Reudh", but I think that's silly. I'd prefer to say just "Reudh".
    Mr Frog has trained me extensively in his field - he's also discovered that I'm apparently very good with mechanics and masonry... I'm not really sure why. It just comes easier to me than theoretical neurodynamics.

    Not much noteworthy happened until one afternoon in early Spring. Mr Frog had told me earlier that something was up, and that Count Splint had ordered all the Ballpoint soldiers out of the fortress... He said a lot of them were injured, but he didn't say why. I decided to find out for myself. I'll admit that I was also more wanting to know why exactly Wari had thought it acceptable to force a girl to kill dozens of people that she didn't even know. Those murders I committed still haunt my nightmares at times... I wish I'd never remembered it.

    That afternoon, after Mr Frog left, I took a hooded cloak out of my room and put it on. I figured it might be wise to hide my face, just in case Ballpoint soldiers were still around, and my ears needed to stay hidden regardless. With them tucked carefully away beneath my hood, I left Mr Frog's laboratory and walked down the door-lined, torchlit corridors.
    On my way to the stairs, I passed several dwarves who caught my attention... One I remember in particular seemed like he didn't have a friend in the world... I felt a little sorry for him, honestly. Another was a redheaded girl... She seemed oddly muscular... but there was something wrong with her shadow... I don't know what, really. It just spooked me a bit. What spooked me most was when I happened to pass Paintbrushturkey, who had been overseer while I'd been imprisoned. He had a mohawk and a horseshoe mustache... he looked absolutely brutal. It's small wonder he was able to whip the army into shape so quickly during his reign.
   
    Soon, without seeing a single Ballpoint soldier, I reached the hospital level. The walls had been smoothed and engraved since I'd seen them last, and they looked very beautiful... even if most of the scenes were of dwarves dying miserably in combat with zombies and Holistic’s Spawn. I also saw a great number of cavy engravings... Talvi had been one of the artists. She’s a lot better than she used to be.
    As I approached the hospital itself, though, I heard the deep-voiced yelling of an angry dwarf. I was curious to see what was going on, but more than that, I wanted to find Wari. If she was anywhere, I was sure she'd be in the hospital. Sneaking in through the double doors, I hid myself among the rows of coffins at the northern end of the room.

    "GET YOUR FILTHY MUCK-STAINED HANDS AWAY!" the deep-voiced dwarf roared, threatening to fling a doctor to the other side of the room.
    Mitchewawa was there, too, attempting to calm everyone down. "Just put him down! That's a good soldier. We don't need to build a hospital for our docs, now, do we?"
    "Don't patronize me!" With that, the doctor went flying across the room with a scream, landing in a heap on a hospital bed and rolling off onto the floor. "Tell these idiots to keep their meddling hands off of me, Mitch! It's just a scratch, as I told you before. My kidneys don't need removed, my blood proof is fine, and there's no reason to amputate my arm! Get these fools away!" Blood and gore coated the dwarf, and it looked like she’d wrapped intestines tightly around one arm, almost like a self-improvised bandage. I guessed it was a she, because the dwarf didn’t have a beard.
    "Everyone, stand back and remain calm, please," Mitchewawa called out, holding his arms up and waving the advancing doctors back. "Let's just let our little recruit calm down a bit."
    "Recruit?!" the dwarf yelled angrily. I winced, sure that Mitchewawa was going to be the next one sent airborne. Fortunately, at that moment, another dwarf burst in through the doors noisily, clad in full adamantine armor. I recognized him at once: it was Jack Magnus. Everybody knew about him: he was handsome as anything with how neatly he kept his brownish hair, and capable (or so the rumors said) of defeating goblins sieges single-handedly.
    "So is it really true?" he asked with a grin, looking around at the cowering doctors with a humorous expression. "Did the great Fischer really get injured?"
    "Shut up, Magnus," she growled, taking off a boot and shaking a few dozen teeth out onto the floor. "It's just a scratch. If Count Splint hadn't ordered me to check in at the hospital, I wouldn't be down here at all."
    Jack Magnus grinned even wider. "So it's true! Fischer, the Incredible Superdwarf, the Culler of Horrors and Ender of Reigns, really was wounded in combat!" If he'd been anyone else, I would've though he had a death wish, teasing Fischer the way he was.
    "Not my fault," she growled, giving Jack Magnus a glare that probably could've melted obsidian. "I was asleep, unarmed, unarmored and there were twenty of them! And the scratch was from when the bed splintered when I tried to use it as a war hammer. I'd like to get my hands on the fool mason that designed it..."
    Jack whistled slowly. "Really... Just twenty? Those foreigners weren't really so bright after all, were they?" He rolled his eyes, as if at their stupidity. "Any idea why they were after you in the first place?"
    "No," Fischer said bluntly. "But several of them screamed 'the P.E.A. lied' as I was bisecting them."
    "If you'd had a weapon on you, they wouldn't even have managed to say that," Jack Magnus chuckled. "PEA... Any idea what that could mean?"
    "How am I supposed to know?" Fischer gave an approaching doctor the finger, and he lost consciousness, falling to the floor in a dead faint. "Anyway, I'll see you later, Jack. I have business to take care of." With this, she stormed out of the room.

    Everything quieted down after that. A couple dwarves walked in with dustpans and started sweeping all the loose teeth off the floor, while Jack Magnus went over to talk to Mitchewawa. I couldn't hear them, but I walked quietly out of my corner towards the middle of the room, looking about for Wari. The only problem was that she didn't seem to be there.
    I didn’t have long to wait before Jack Magnus seemed to finish his conversation. "See you later, Mitch," he said, walking towards the door. Mitchewawa turned away and started talking to the medical staff. From across the room, I thought I was able to make out the name "Wari". I perked up and listened intently.

    "- few months. Why do you ask?" a nurse was replying.
    "The hospital seems somewhat under populated, mate. Where have all our docs gone off to?" Mitchewawa asked. "And why does everyone have a Johnny Bravo hairstyle?!"
    "Under populated? This is between shifts - everyone is here! But not for long - I get off in five minutes."

    "Hey there, sweetheart. Everything all right?" a nearby voice said, startling me so badly I fell over.
    It was Jack Magnus, and he was talking to me. "I... I don't..." I stuttered, trying to regain my wits. He's handsome and friendly, but somewhat intimidating at the same time... then again, soldiers always put me on edge at first. Well... except for Urist.
    Jack Magnus chuckled and helped me to my feet. "Hey, easy, girl! I didn't mean to startle you." He gave me a friendly, charming smile. "Just wondering if you're all right - you look off your game. I know just about everybody here in Spearbreakers - I like to keep on top of things, you see. I haven't seen you around before - you new here, or...?"
    "Yes... no... well, sort of..." I said, groping for words. I worried he’d figure out who I was, if he kept staring at me like he was. "It's all right, though. I'm just looking for someone." It wasn't a lie, and it wasn't a very clever attempt to get him to leave. It actually had the opposite effect.
    He gave me a helpful smile. "Well, I'm the man to ask, then. Who might it be? Did you come down here to see if the Almighty Fischer was wounded, too?" He grinned, giving me a wink.
    I couldn't help but smile at his jest. "Well, not exactly... I'm looking for someone named 'Wari'... do you know where she is?"
    He looked at me curiously for a moment. "No... I'm curious, though... why would you be asking?"
    That froze me in my tracks. I didn't really have an answer ready. "I... I just want to ask her a few questions."
    He gave me a long, serious gaze. "Interesting... You know, this is the second time today that someone came asking for Wari. The first time was a dark-haired fellow. Haven't really seen him much before... He reminds me of those foreigners, really." A grin slowly crept over his face at that thought. "Boy, we really sent them packing, didn't we?" he laughed.
    "Yes, you did..." I gave a polite smile to mask my nervousness. "Do you... Might you know who he was? Or where he went?"
    "Sure thing, sweetheart," he said, putting his hand on my shoulder and leading me out of the hospital. Then, pointing down the hallway: "Straight thataway, and take a left to the stairs. Go all the way down to the forges - every time I've seen him, he's been around there. The name's Draconik, I think."
    Now I had a lead. "Thank you," I said, smiling genuinely. I'd never thought such a strong warrior could be so good-natured. He seemed bright, too. "I'm very grateful for your help, Mr. Magnus."
    He tilted his head a bit and nodded. "Just call me Jack," he said with a disarming smile. "And what can I call you?"
    "Vanya." I blurted it out before I even thought about it. At his confused expression, I added quietly, "My parents hated me..." I hoped it would explain the elvish name.
    He laughed. "It's no problem, still a nice name, and not one you hear very often. See you later, sweetheart."
    I felt myself warming to him. "Thank you, Jack," I said gratefully, starting down the hallway at a quick pace.
    "Oh, and Vanya!" he called out. My face burned with embarrassment... I really wish I hadn't told him my name. "If you do find Wari, let me know where she's gotten herself off to, will you?"
    I glanced back at him for a moment to nod, but he'd already turned and started walking towards the dining room.


    My second trip to the forges felt longer than the first. I'm pretty sure I heard a few restless spirits whispering about in the graveyard as I passed through... who puts a graveyard halfway down a staircase, anyway?
    I soon passed Simon Tam's room and saw several people hauling out furniture. When I asked what was going on, they replied, "Simple - Dr. Tam isn't mayor anymore." I didn't really have anything to say about that, and continued onwards.
    It wasn't long before I reached the forges. There were several dwarves hammering away at armor, and a couple more smelting ore, but I didn't see anyone "strange". I did see Talvi, though, finishing a beautiful iron helm. I started towards her to say hello, but I hardly managed more than three steps.

    "I heard you were looking for me," a man intoned ominously from behind. Leaping away reflexively, I spun around and found myself looking into a shadowed face topped with neat black hair. "Calm yourself. I did not mean to startle you..." He had a slow, menacing voice, and he appeared oddly thin. He was wearing a white lab coat like Mr Frog's.
    I backed away from him anyway, wishing his face wasn’t concealed in the shadows. "Who are you?" I asked. "Are you Draconik?"
    For what seemed like the longest time, he didn't respond, only looking me over. "That is what they call me here, yes... And why are you looking for Wari?"
    I didn't answer. Something doesn't seem right about this dwarf, I thought. News can't possibly travel that fast. The only way he could know what I was talking to Jack Magnus about only minutes before is if... "You're from Parasol, aren't you?" I asked suspiciously, glancing around for something to defend myself with.
    "You get straight to the point," he mused, removing a device from his cloak. "A good quality. But hush, not so loud here. I haven't finished disabling all the cameras. If you know of Parasol, I assume you also know of Ballpoint..." He held the device - a PEA - up towards me, and a brief flash of light blinded my eyes.
    "Vanya Carena, Parasol sleeper agent..." he said, seeming puzzled.  "But your file says you haven't been activated... so how could you know of Parasol?"
    "I have been activated," I whispered hotly. "I remember murdering dozens of Ballpoint agents, right here in the forges."
    Draconik leveled a piercing gaze in my direction, peering at me curiously as if I was some sort of specimen under a microscope. His dark eyes almost made me shiver. "Now, that isn't right..." he muttered, almost to himself.  "You shouldn't remember that, had you truly been activated." He stepped forwards quickly, throwing back my hood before I could react. "Elf ears... But Sleeper technology oriented towards your species doesn't exist..."
    I flushed, more with anger than embarrassment, and pulled my hood roughly back over my head. "Keep your hands off me," I whispered.
    He ignored it. "What business do you have with Wari? What questions?"
    "I want to know why she made me kill so many Ballpoint agents."
    His response was quick and concise. "She couldn't have. It's not the Parasol way. We have regulations, you know. What's more, your files clearly state that you have not been activated."
    "But she did activate me," I protested. Then I hesitated, thinking up a quick lie. "I'm a secret project. I'm the first elf sleeper. They would've kept me hidden from any of the unclassified files that you'd be able to access, and -"
    "Silence!" Draconik commanded in a quiet, forceful tone. I stopped in mid-sentence. "You should show respect in the presence of your superiors, agent. I am of higher rank than you assume. Clearly, yes, you have been activated to a certain extent, but I would venture a guess that your memory alteration failed, as it always has with our attempts with your species."
    "But -"
    "Nonetheless," he continued, speaking over me, "I am bound by duty to turn you in... But perhaps there's something you could do for me... A favor of sorts...
    “I wonder if I might ask: A transdimensional being with his eye on Spearbreakers... has a company of his own, separate from Ballpoint and Parasol... who am I thinking of?"
    I was silent.
    "His name starts with J..." Draconik prompted.
    I had to force the name to my lips. "Joseph of Eris," I whispered.
    A slow smile spread over the dwarf's face, and he stroked his long beard, deep in thought. "Indeed, you are correct. You may have information I might find useful..."
    "I must speak to Wari," I replied firmly.
    "Of course, agent. But when you return... I would like information on her whereabouts, as well as any information you could provide me on Joseph. Is that acceptable to you?"
    I nodded cautiously. "You don't know where Wari is, either?"
    "No. But I know where a man who does know resides... Regretfully, he distrusts me too much to give me any clues. He considers me one of quote 'them'. I do not believe he's fully sane. He is certainly not well-balanced."
    "Who is it?"
    "Orodogoth, soap maker."
    "But... Spearbreakers doesn't have any soap..."
    "Precisely."

    I soon found myself in the long, unfinished hallway that led to the abandoned hospital. Draconik had informed me that Orodogoth would most likely be 'hiding' near the soapmaker's workshop, which someone had decided to build far from the rest of the fortress.
    There was a strange, foul smell in the air, emanating from a room ahead of me... it smelled like waste, acid, and rotting meat... mixed with pepper and paprika. It made me want to sneeze, but I did my best not to, walking onwards to the doorway. When I got there, I looked around the corner cautiously. "Orodogoth..." I called quietly. "Are you here?"
    An odd-looking dwarf jumped out, flinging sand at my face with what amounted to a battle cry: "Pocket sand!" I turned my head away and felt the fine grains hit the side of my hood, but a little got past.
    "Cut it out!" I cried out, trying to brush the painful substance out of my eye. "I just wanted to ask you a few questions!" Turning back, I took a quick look at him. He was incredibly twig-like, with a scrawny beard and an orange cap that seemed completely out-of-place with his dark purple cloak.
    "And how do you know my name?" he spoke in a suspicious monotone, narrowing his eyes. "You're with them, aren't you..."
    "I'm not with anybody!"
    "So you say..." he said, glaring at me. "And yet you speak my name in broad daylight... ...or moonlight... whichever may be the case..." He grunted and continued in his slow monotone. "The walls have ears, you know... and eyes. And mouths, too, if they feel like it..." He gave me a jittery glance, taking out a pipe and sticking it between his lips. "Would you like us to be eaten by a wall?" he growled.
    "What?" I asked, looking at him blankly. Draconik had been right: this guy was nuts.
    He jumped back a pace, grabbing something off the floor. "Sh-sh-sh-sha! Say hello to the Allegro X9J, code name 'Redeemer': 73 decibels of hyper-silenced quad-barrel war cry, capable of blasting a ten-foot hole through solid rock, and all at a price I can't really afford."
    I looked at Orodogoth curiously for a moment. Finally, I said, "That's a log."
    He held it up and caressed its "barrel". "You only think it's a log. And so it looks to the untrained eye. I can look at it and see the most powerful handgun ever devised." It was almost comical.
    "How do you know about guns? I don't think you'd kill me, anyway, and guns kill people."
    "Wrong," he said flatly, puffing on his pipe. "The government kills people." Saying this, he tossed his log to the side. "...and yes, it's a log," he admitted quietly, before drawing himself up with importance. "But yes... I am the All-Powerful Orodogoth, maker of soaps, both fine and deadly."
    I had to try really hard not to laugh at him. "Can't I just call you 'Orod'?” I asked, half-teasing. "Your name's a bit of a mouthful."
    "Can I call you Xel-ca Crr'smabeth Chrr’r, Evil Mantis Queen Overlord of Scyk-bek?" In response to my raised eyebrow, he narrowed his eyes again, continuing with satisfaction, "My point is made."
    "Mantis Queen?"
    "One of them. All government figures are actually giant insects in disguise. If you'd seen what I've seen..." He leaned awkwardly against the wall and blew a crooked smoke ring. "...then you'd think twice before falling into their traps."
    "Are you serious?" I laughed. "What about Count Splint?"
    He nodded slowly, adjusting his cap. "If he wasn't before, he is now. Scythods, they call them. Scaly green skin, and the eyes... oh gods, the eyes..." He took another puff, looking thoughtful. "...I never actually saw the eyes."
    "Okay... Can I ask you a question?"
    "Of course," he replied, smiling with a grim amusement, "but will I answer?"
    "Yes?"
    Orodogoth laughed nasally. "Ha ha ha. Of course not, you twit. I'd be more likely to join them."
    My heart sank at his mockery, but then I got an idea. "I could tell Splint what you know about him..."
    "You wouldn't," he said, but I could hear the doubt in his voice. "You're bluffing - they'd kill you, too."
    "Maybe I don't care if they do." I honestly didn't believe Splint was a bug at all, and I'm very sure Orodogoth was making the whole thing about the Scythods up... though it's possible he believed it himself. He was just that crazy.
    He looked at me for quite a while, puffing on his pipe with crossed arms as he thought. "Hmm... You know... I think you might be crazy, Xel-ca..." he said in the same gravelly monotone, "And not in a good way, like how that cockroach felt after I swapped its blood with dwarven ale..."
    "You did what??"
    He narrowed his eyes and shifted his weight. "I could tell you... but then I'd have to kill you."
    "I thought you said only the government kills people," I said, pointing out a flaw in his logic.
    "That's what they want you to think. Now... what is this 'question' you want to ask, Xel-ca?"
    Finally, I thought. "I'm just wondering where Wari is. Do you know?"
    He gave me a glare. "So you are with 'them'... I thought so... You believed you could just waltz up and kill us, but then, so did he!" he exclaimed somewhat menacingly, pointing towards the center of the room. I followed his finger, only to see a frog impaled upside-down on a stick.
    It was getting a little too weird for my tastes. "I'm not a bug, I'm not the government, and I'm not 'them'."
    "Prove it." He paused, and then smirked triumphantly. "You can't, can you... I didn’t think you could. I have the perfect soap for you, my egg-laying friend... It's pretty and pink... and filled with insecticide." He threw open a nearby chest and started rummaging through it, muttering.
    I could only think of one way to “prove it” to him, and I didn’t like it. Still… I didn’t see that I had a choice. Glancing away for a second and feeling awkward, I threw back my hood with a sigh. I could almost sense Orodogoth's gaping stare, and I felt my cheeks redden.
    "Oh... You're an elf... A tree hippie." He stared at me nervously. "You're not going to eat me, are you?"
    "I don't eat people."
    He narrowed his eyes. "That's what they all say... but at least you're not an insect... Things would've gotten messy if you had been. Still, I have the perfect soap for you, my wood-loving friend..."
    I sighed. I was tired of stereotypes. It was bad enough being an elf, even without everyone assuming things about you. "I'm just as much a dwarf as you, except for my ears." Putting my hood back on, I tucked my hair into it carefully, asking, "Can you please tell me where Wari is now?"
   "Oh, yes... yes... right... She's in my headquarters." He shifted his eyes around nervously, and then slammed the chest shut, shuffling past me and peering out into the hallway. I watched him quietly. Finally, he appeared satisfied, turning back to me. "Can you talk in code?" he whispered.
   "What?"
   "Code... we need to talk in code. And keep your voice down!" He glared at me, and then started walking overcautiously across the room, motioning for me to follow. As he went, he began muttering quietly over his shoulder, "The teddy bear is in the trumpet; my legs are worth more than toothbrushes filled with cyanide; and buckets of ore will be our administrators. Your ears are very large."
   "My ears are -" I whispered, but he cut me off, interrupting my protesting with a sharp hiss.
   "Shhhhhh! We're almost there..." He tiptoed a few more steps, and then knelt, pulling open a floor hatch. He continued his slow muttering, staring at me piercingly. "The chickadee is under the statue; the cheesecandy is everywhere; your face looks like a honey badger. ...Comprende?" He said this last in a long, slow monotone. He obviously expected me to understand, but I didn't understand a thing he'd said.
   "Could you speak plainly?" I asked plaintively.
   He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Gods, it's like talking to a lunatic. Just get down there."
   Walking over to the hatch, I started down the ladder beneath it. I only hoped the madman above me was right, and Wari was actually below me.

☆

[Talvieno]

Chapter 25: Wari
Vanya's journal continues in its usual manner, but without her usual philosophical portion. You cannot help but wonder why.

    The ladder was nothing more than a series of handholds carved into the stony wall of a vertical shaft. When I began to descend, Orodogoth closed the hatch above me, and everything abruptly grew as pitch black as if someone had doused a candle. I closed my eyes, trying to calm my heart, which was just starting to race... I hate small spaces so, so much... I remember looking downwards and seeing nothing but a pinprick of light far, far below me. While I'm fortunately not really afraid of heights, the sight of how far the narrow shaft continued downwards unnerved me. I don't actually remember much of the climb... just that I continued downwards steadily, one foot after another, eyes tightly closed, praying to the gods that I would be all right, and that the tunnel wouldn't cave in around me.

    Finally, finally I reached the bottom, feeling solid rock beneath my feet once more. I turned, opening my eyes with a little sigh of immense relief. I was safe, and that was all that mattered to me, though I wasn't looking forwards to climbing back up to the top: down is always easier than up. I don't really know why that is... perhaps because you feel you're returning to the earth, rather than climbing away from it. Gravity makes us feel safe, but only while standing on a solid surface.
    Calming myself, I took in my surroundings. It was small, and stockpiled with various barrels and medical supplies, and furnished with a few tables, chairs, cabinets and beds. It actually looked almost as if someone was expecting an apocalypse. It wouldn't serve more than a few people, but they'd likely be able to survive for years without trouble.

    A quiet rustling behind me interrupted my observations. When I spun about to see what was making the sound, I found myself staring into the face of a nurse with shoulder-length gray-blonde hair, who was holding a wrench like a club, just about to strike. As she peered at my unhooded face, she seemed to recognize me... an event that seemed to astonish her.
    "It's you!" Wari exclaimed in surprise, lowering her improvised weapon. "I thought you died years ago!" She dropped the wrench onto a table next to her and began examining me, looking in my eyes, my mouth, my ears, muttering, "You seem healthy, and that's a good sign..." The woman grabbed my hands and pulled up the sleeves of my blouse, pausing for a moment at the result. "Your bracelet is missing..." she said slowly, looking up at my face. "Where is it? I can only assume you're here because you know what happened... but where's your bracelet?"
    "I destroyed it," I told her acridly, pulling my hands away. "You had no right to do what you did. I'm better off without it."
    She shook her head quickly. "No, you don't understand. In doing what we did we ensured you'd be protected – we gave you combat skills, stealth skills, we –"
    "It's all gone, and I'm glad of it," I told her, maybe a bit too angrily... she looked hurt. "I'm sorry... but really, it's all gone. Ballpoint took it away, but not before you activated me."
    "I don't – wait, what?" She looked at me almost suspiciously, a quizzical expression on her face. "What do you mean, I activated you? You've always been inactive."
    "I killed people, Wari! I murdered them!" Emotion was creeping into my voice, and I tensed my lip, trying to keep it from trembling as I went on. "I remember it, Wari... I killed so many Ballpoint agents, and I didn't even know what I was doing. I never knew what I was doing! My mind's a jumbled mess; I don't even know who I am anymore!! You took me and you used me... I never wanted to be an agent! I never wanted to murder anyone!!" I began shaking with anger, and I paused for a moment, trying to calm myself.
    "Shhhh, sh sh sh sh sh..." Wari said softly, trying to put her arms around me. I stepped away coldly – I didn't want her empathy. There was no way she could understand. "Carena, we didn't –”
    "I remember it, Wari!" I cried out again, tears beginning to sting my eyes. "They're in my nightmares still! I can still hear their screams, their pleas for help! They burned alive!! I burned them alive, and it's all because of you! Don't touch me!" I pulled away from her again, but weakly, trying uselessly to stem my emotions. I was tired of the lies. I was tired of being conned, tricked and deceived. I was tired of the timewar, and Parasol, and Ballpoint, and all their evil, scheming ways. I just wanted to be left alone. Was that really too much to ask?
    "The little girl..." I whispered despairingly, giving a twisted glance towards her concerned face before looking away. "There was a little girl who had nothing to do with it... and she's dead because of me. I murdered a little girl just because she saw me..." I could see her face in my mind... I could feel her little gorlak doll in my blouse pocket... I always keep it with me now. I started crying, shaking uncontrollably as I fell limply into a chair, covering my face with my hands. It had been a long time since I'd cried... I'd been trying to hold it in. Now it was out... and I couldn't stop, even with someone I considered an enemy less than five feet away.
    Wari only stood there silently as the tears fell down my face, watching with a confused, sympathetic look, her lips drawn tightly together. I wanted to hit her... I wanted to make her feel the pain I'd felt... to make her understand the pain that so many people had gone through, all because of me... all because of her. But at the same time... I didn't feel anyone had the right to inflict so much agony on another. Not even someone who had gone through the same at their hands. I felt conflicted and confused. I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream, I wanted to run away and never have to deal with any of it again. I had an edging desire to slap her in the face, too.
    "Carena..." the nurse said finally, "I never activated you. That's not how Parasol works, anyway. We don't just execute enemy soldiers because they're in our way. We have laws, a code, a way of doing things."
    I swallowed and made an attempt to breathe slowly, though I found a lump in my throat. "That's what Draconik said," I told her quietly, refusing to meet her gaze. "I didn't believe him, either."
    "You talked to Draconik Sankis?" Wari moaned in distaste, rolling her eyes. "Oh, great. No, really, that's wonderful – all our problems are solved," she said, gushing with sarcasm. It gave me the strong feeling that she didn't like him, but really, I didn't care.
    Sniffing, I wiped my eyes with the back of a finger, glaring at her. "I remember what I did, Wari... You tried to block it out, but I remember."
    She shook her head roughly. "No, you don't understand. We never activated you." She sat down in a chair across from me with her elbows on the table, and folded her hands in front of her. "I'm the head of my department. Me, not Sankis. I would know if we'd activated you. I would've had to give the order. And Carena..." She paused, trying to get my attention. "Carena. Carena, look at me."
    I did, but reluctantly.
    "Carena, I never gave that order. Parasol never activated you."
    I didn't trust Wari very much, but it seemed as though she was being sincere. I'm a good judge of character, usually... We were silent for a while, as we both pondered what it could mean, trying to understand.
    Finally I asked, "Might it have been Eris?"
    She did a visible double take and almost fell off her seat. I stifled a laugh, but I couldn't help the sad, flickering smile that passed over my lips. Still, her icy gaze following it quickly wiped the smile away, and she looked at me through narrowed eyes, seeming as uncomfortable as if I'd just spoken treason. When she finally spoke, it was with a hint of accusation. "...Eris? What would you know about Eris?"
    By this point, I'd gotten it thoroughly into my head that Eris was a secret I really wasn't supposed to know about... and something that few people did. "I know some..." I replied hesitantly, watching her face carefully as I spoke. "I... I don't know that much, really... and I'm not sure I should talk about it..."
    She pursed her lips. "You really don't trust me, do you." It was rhetorical, and more of a statement than a question. "I can't say I blame you. Carena..."
    "'Vanya', please."
    She nodded. "Fair enough – Vanya, then. Do you recall how we met?"
    I tried to remember, but with no success. "No..."
    "Let me remind you." She leaned forwards, making eye contact over her folded hands. "I found you in a side alley outside the hospital one night, asleep with your sister."
    "Salaia..." I whispered breathily. Her name still felt slightly alien, but at the same time... as normal as my own.
    Wari nodded, her voice taking on a softer tone at the memory. "You never told me her name... but when I stepped closer to you, you awoke. You realized who I was, and pleaded for me not to take you to the hospital. And that's when I saw your sister's ears – her cap had fallen off her head while she was asleep. It surprised me so much that I actually blurted something along the lines of 'You're elves!' ...Which of course frightened you even more. You stepped in front of her and literally begged me not to take your sister. You begged me that if I had to do my duty and take you to Mr Frog, the overseer, to only take you. You even told me you'd come willingly to the hospital so that I could 'experiment on you', just so long as I left your sister alone."
    My eyes filled with tears as I listened.
    Wari continued. "But I don't 'experiment' on people – that's what Dr. Kannan did, before Mitchewawa deposed him. And I told you that... and I felt for you.
    "Vanya..." she began quietly. Her voice was quavering, and it wasn't until then that I noticed that her eyes were moist with the threat of teardrops. "I grew up in an elven forest retreat with my older brother."
    "But... you're a dwarf..."
    She swallowed and nodded rapidly, her lips twisting as she tried to maintain her controlled expression. "I know. And my older brother was, too. He kept his beard trimmed to keep me safe, taught me how to stay hidden, taught me to never reveal who I was to anyone. But then, one night... they came for him. Someone had given him away... and when they took him, they..." She paused, trying unsuccessfully to compose herself. "They killed him... I was only nine years old... He was eighteen... He was only eighteen. Earlier that night, he'd told me that no matter what happened... he would always love me. He wanted me to remember." A tear fell down her face, and she brushed it away ashamedly. I felt one fall down my face as well, and I put my hand on top of hers, where she held them clasped together on the smooth granite of the table. "He'd told me to disown him – to say I wasn't his sister. It felt so wrong, like I was betraying him, like it was my fault they were taking him... but when they took him, they left me alone. I didn't understand what was going on at the time – I didn't realize they were going to kill him... I... I'll admit I always hated elves after that."
    "And I'm an elf... I'm so sorry..." I whispered, biting my lip. I hated that my kind could be so cruel... not that we're any crueler than dwarves can be, but it's no excuse.
    She nodded briefly, brushing the tears away with the back of her hand. "I know... But when I saw what you were doing, it reminded me so much of him, that I... I couldn't help it. It almost brought me to tears even then, to see you stand up to me like that... to willingly sacrifice yourself in her place... I wanted to save both of you. I wanted to do for you what my brother couldn't do for me.
    "As we happened to need an elf right then, I chose you. I chose you so that you could keep your sister safe, like Lokum tried to do for me. The combat skills were part of the package... but the other skills... I added those into your program on my own."
    "I... I had no idea..." I said, shaking my head in disbelief. Part of me wanted to believe it wasn't true, and that Wari really was the enemy... but no one could fake what she was clearly feeling. "I always thought you were the enemy..."
    "I'm a friend," she said firmly, putting a hand on mine. "You can trust me." At my nod, she continued. "When I found out that Ballpoint had taken your sister – wait..." She paused uncomfortably. "You do know that your sister is alive, don't you?"
    I nodded in response. "Ballpoint took her and made her an agent."
    "Yes, they did... When they made her an agent, there was nothing I could do... But I told you she'd died at Kannan's hands. I hated to bring you the news, especially as it was a lie, but how could I explain about Ballpoint? You didn't even know about Parasol then."
    "I remember you telling me." And I did... very well. "I'd considered that the worst day of my life."
    She grimaced. "I'm sorry, Carena – Vanya, I mean. I lost a lot of good employees when they did it, but I didn't want you to wonder anymore."
    "She's an agent of Joseph's, too..." I whispered.
    That made her sit straight up in her seat, pulling her hands away from mine. "What are you talking about?" she asked almost harshly. "How could you know about Joseph?"
    I felt as if I was treading on unstable ground. "I... I talked to him once... I saw Carena – my sister – talking to him, too. But I didn't know she was my sister then."
    She shook her head in bewilderment. "You talked to him?! And how didn't you know she was your sister?"
    "Ballpoint took me in with her when they edited our memories and made her an agent..."
    She actually stood up in surprise. I think she was a little flustered, too. "They did what?! They... They..." She made little noises for a few seconds as if she was trying to speak, but finally sank back down onto the stone chair, her eyes wide. "Oh my god... You poor, poor girl. You remember it?"
    Glancing away, I nodded. I didn't want to remember, but I did.
    "Oh my god..." she mumbled in bewilderment, "oh my god. Twice... The brain should only be altered once like that... It's no wonder you called your mind a jumbled mess. And are you sure your sister is working for Joseph? And that you talked to him?"
    "She was talking to him on a PEA and working for him..." I explained. "And yes... Joseph said I'd 'furthered his cause greatly.' He said I'd done exactly as he expected."
    "Oh my god. I need a cigarette," she said defeatedly, standing and walking over to a box and digging through it, mumbling to herself, "I can never find anything in here..." Finally, she stopped, taking out a strange instrument. I watched as she used it to light a little paper tube and put it in her mouth. I think it was like a pipe, just a different shape, because after a moment, she breathed out a little cloud of smoke. "That's better..." she muttered, leaning up against a wall and looking at me in amazement. "I think I've figured it out now..." She didn't seem very pleased.
    "What?" I didn't know what she meant.
    She blew out another cloud of smoke. "It wasn't Parasol that activated you, but Joseph. Joseph used to work for Parasol, and he'd have access to the codes – he used to have a very high rank at Parasol, actually – while he was a fellow employee, he was more of an employer. He knows just about everything about us. He could've had one of his goons hack into our system and manipulate your mind directly from there."
    I didn't like the way that sounded. "What do you mean, 'manipulate my mind'?"
    "I mean he made you kill a lot of Ballpoint agents to level the playing field. You wouldn't have known what you were doing. When he was done, he would've cut the link and you would've woken up and been regular old Vanya. That's what a sleeper agent is. That's why you killed all those people, that's how he knew about your sister and recruited her, and that's how he knew what you would do in any given situation. I'm betting he pulled you into one of his Batman gambits." She took a deep drag on her cigarette and blew out the smoke triumphantly.
    I nodded slowly, taking it all in. "I've been watching you for some time," I could remember Joseph saying. "You've done exactly as I expected – no more, no less. You've actually furthered my cause greatly – far more than the dull-witted Talvi ever managed." It all made sense... and it explained so much. Those words took on a completely different meaning now. He’d called me his "assistant"... I’d had no idea he meant it so literally.
    One thing didn't make sense, though. "'Batman'?" I asked.
    Wari grimaced. "Never mind," she said dismissively. "But now that we know all of this... How would you like to help me out with a little work?" She walked briskly over to a cabinet and opened it, revealing a computer console and several small screens showing various areas of the fortress.
    "I need to get back to Mr Frog soon..." I told her cautiously. "He'll want to know where I went, if I'm gone when he gets back."
    She laughed. "Mr Frog, eh? So that's where you've been hiding all this time... Oh, don't worry about that old coot; I'll have Orodogoth tell him for you. So... are you in?"
    "All right... yes," I replied. I didn't know what she wanted me to do, and I was hoping it wouldn't take too long. What I wanted most was to rescue my sister, and I could only do that with the help of Mr Frog.

☆

[Talvieno]

Chapter 26: The Final Entry
    Though it had always appeared in hindsight that she held a special importance to this old fortress you stand within, few people spoke of her, and if they did so, it was only in passing. She was almost a taboo topic at Spearbreakers, and for good reason – the dwarves were willingly allowing an elf to live among them, in an age where prejudice and racism ruled the day. As a historian, you've dedicated your life to learning about this near-forgotten border fortress. You know perhaps more about the installation than anyone else – yet this single elven maiden has continued to elude you.
    This is the final entry in her journals. Whether she continued elsewhere, you cannot say. So much remains unexplained – how did the girl become so well known among dwarfkind, and so hated among her own? From whence sprang the stories of her standing against entire armies of elves, from whence came the campfire tales of how she took on Parasol's finest with a small group of friends at her side? From whence came the legends of the brave elven girl who led entire armies against even Ballpoint itself?
    Surely some of them are poetic exaggerations... but how did they come to be? Although doubtful, you pray that these questions will be answered in her final entry.


    I have important news... some much more exciting than others, but something important is going to happen soon. I'd really, really like to put it down right now, and skip everything else... but I have to do this in order. I do want to be an author, after all, and books where the narrative skips around are difficult to read. I have to practice not doing that. I used to be a lot worse about it... but that was when I was little. I always had to keep to myself, back at the mountainhome, to keep the other children from finding out who I was. It gave me time to write, and time to think. It also gave me a lot of time to spend with my sister...

~~~

    As I walked up the stairs towards the apartment levels, I ran back over Wari's words in my mind...
    "There's someone new in the fortress – he arrived with the last migrant wave. I can't find anything on him, not that that's unusual. I have trouble staying organized. At any rate, it seems almost as though he may be working for either Ballpoint or Eris. He's not a Parasol employee. I've seen him carting bins of scrap metal to his room – obviously that's highly unusual. The bins are always emptier when he leaves with them, but so far I think I'm the only one who's noticed."
    I left the stairwell and continued towards the living quarters at a steady pace. I was somewhat uneasy about the whole thing – I didn't want to work for Parasol.
    "His name is Tomio. I haven't found any information on his last name, but that's largely because Orodogoth is the only link I have with the world outside his little safe room, or 'headquarters,' as he calls it. Where he got all this Mountain Dew from, I have no idea, but he claims you can't survive an apocalypse without it. I hate the stuff."
    Finally, I arrived at my destination, and I slowed to a halt outside Tomio's door, trying to remain inconspicuous... but looking back, what isn't conspicuous about a cloaked, hooded girl who's glancing about like she thinks Fischer's after her?
    "I need you to break into his room and figure out what he's doing, and who he's working for. Feel free to take anything back here you think might help me. Honestly, I think he's trying to take the fortress down. That implies that he's working for Eris... and yes, I know you're not cleared for that level of classification. Draconik is going to give me hell for this, I'm sure."
    "How am I going to get into his room? I can't pick locks..." I remembered telling her.
    "No? What about... ahhh, I see... So Ballpoint tried to wipe away the skills we gave you. There might be a solution for that, but I'll explain when you get back. Just take this lock pick. Most doors in the fortress are relatively easy to unlock – I said 'most', mind you. Oddly, no one ever tries to unlock a door. It baffles me. Just hurry there, get what I need, and get back."

    I waited until everyone was out of the hallway, and then took out the little strip of metal she had given me, placing it into the lock of Tomio's door. After quite a bit of wiggling, I heard a soft "click" that seemed to echo through the quiet hallway, and I put the tool back into my pocket. Turning the doorknob carefully, I walked inside.
    The place was a mess... little bits of scrap metal lay scattered haphazardly all over the smoothed granite floor, as well as sheets of paper, coated with doodles and sketches in a way that vaguely reminded me of some of Mr Frog's blueprints. There were a few pieces of furniture: a bed against the left wall next to a cabinet that apparently doubled as a nightstand. In the right corner, Tomio had loosely draped a piece of canvas over something unidentifiable. There was also a closet... since when did dwarves in Spearbreakers get a closet?
    More than anything else, it stank. In fact, it reeked of fish, of all things. I haven't smelled anything as strong since I was hiding from Mr Frog in the abandoned dump. I wasn't nauseated by it, but I really, really didn't want to stick around any longer than I had to.
    Closing the door quietly behind me, I walked over to the bedside cabinet and opened it, looking over all the shelves. There wasn't much in it besides a few fish bones, scrap metal, and a diary... I decided the diary was something Wari might want, and slipped it into my cloak.
    After closing the cabinet back, I peeked under the bed on a whim. When I saw what Tomio had hidden beneath it, I gasped. It was a huge lump of adamantine – the forbidden metal. I felt myself fall under its spell, my fingers creeping towards it of their own accord. It was light, I reasoned... I could easily take it out of there and move it somewhere else... If I sold it, I'd be rich enough to travel to a human city, buy a house, write a book...
    Suddenly I realized what was happening. "No!" I whispered fiercely, snatching my fingers back. "I'm an elf; adamantine should have no effect on me..." I knew the words were a lie even as I said it, and I felt my fingers drawn irresistibly back towards the lustrous sky-blue metal. I stopped myself again, repeating, "I'm an elf, I'm an elf, I'm an elf, I'm an elf." With an effort and a furrowed brow, I forced myself to my feet and took a step away from the bed, leaving the lump of metal where it lay. I smiled a little in triumph: I could master the temptation.

    Without warning, the door to my left opened. I tried to jump away towards the closet to hide, but I slipped on some of the blueprints, falling on my back. Tomio himself walked in with a hoe over his shoulder. He saw me immediately, looking at me in surprise. "Who are you and what are you doing in my room?! I locked my door, and you still got in... Well, only one way to –"
    Without even giving him a chance to finish, I kicked out at his stomach in self-defense – I didn't want him to kill me with his weapon. Unfortunately... I may have aimed a little bit lower than his stomach... All the same, it had no effect on him. My foot stung as if I'd just kicked solid rock. "What are you??" I breathed, wide-eyed in fear as I tried to scoot away... but he was too quick, and something heavy struck me across the head...

~~~

    I awoke sometime later, only to find I was bound with rope, my mouth was gagged, and I couldn't see a thing. I could move, though, and I felt about with my feet, soon deciding I was in Tomio's closet. Kidnapping is unheard of among dwarves... What was he? I'd heard stories of trolls with flesh of stone, but Tomio looked like a dwarf... Looked like a dwarf, at least. I'm pretty sure he wasn't...
    Then it hit me. I was in a tiny closet. The old phobia of small spaces came back, and I started hyperventilating. I tried to calm myself, but instead, I started to panic. The gag made it even worse – I could barely breathe. I felt like I was about to pass out, dizzy from a lack of oxygen.
    I needed to calm myself. I tried to think of things that had helped me before: open fields, puppies, the sky... and finally, finally, I managed to get my mind off where I was.
    Wiggling about a bit, I found that he'd skipped binding my chest area for some reason... I tried to take advantage of it, and after several more minutes of wiggling back and forth, I managed to slip an elbow up through the gap. After that, it was easy, and I felt around in the dark until I found the knots, working with them until I had a second arm loose. I removed the gag and took a deep, deep breath. Sometimes there's nothing as wonderful as a breath of air. Even if it does smell like fish.
    Continuing with the knots, I eventually managed to free myself. There was no way he hadn't seen my elven ears... he was yet another person who knew. But if he tried to tell everyone what I was... I'd be able to tell them about his stolen lump of adamantine. The punishment for that was 50 hammer strikes from Weaver. In simple terms, that means death. Normally I'd never betray someone like that... but it would be his death against my own, and he'd just kidnapped me. I was afraid he'd done it for sexual purposes at first, but he hadn't even searched me: I still had his diary beneath my cloak.
    But it didn't matter. I was free. Standing, I turned the knob and walked forwards triumphantly. I'd just escaped bondage and a kidnapping. Nothing could stop me now.
    I wound up with a faceful of the back of the door... he'd apparently locked me in. It didn't take me long to unlock, though, and I left, headed for Orodogoth's safe room. I was glad to finally be away from that place.

~~~

    Wari stood before me, idly flipping through Tomio's diary. "This is great. Thank you, Vanya," she said, sitting down in a chair with the book in her lap, and turning to the first page. After a moment, she took a pair of glasses from her shirt pocket and put them on, absorbed in the pages.
    I stood there for several minutes, watching her in silence. I wanted to ask her something, but I felt too timid to try. I felt I almost deserved a little help from her... after all, I did help her out first, and my head still stung from where Tomio had hit me. I'd gone through quite a bit for her, actually.
    Finally she glanced up at me distractedly. "You're still here?" She waved me off with the back of her hand as she turned back to reading. "I don't have anything else for you to do right now, I'm sorry. You can go back to Mr Frog."
    I decided to voice my question. "Wari..." I began, "I think I may need your help in something... I don't know if it can be done, but..."
    The agent removed her glasses, looking up at me in curiosity. "Is something wrong?"
    Suddenly I found I was unsure of the whole thing myself, and I hesitated before continuing. "Well... I need to save my sister..."
    She stared at me with slight disapproval, giving a slow shake of the head. "This isn't the best way. Are you really sure about this? Really, really, really sure?"
    I nodded. "When they separated us, I promised her I'd find her... I love her, I... I want her to be safe. Wari, I want my sister back..."
    "You'll have to go to Ballpoint..." she warned.
    "I've been there before."
    "Your sister won't remember you," she went on, as she put the book on the table and got to her feet. "Ballpoint would've replaced any memories they thought might compromise her loyalty. Vanya... even if you manage to get past all the guards..." Wari paused, grimacing, as if she hated to say the next words. "...your sister herself will try to kill you."
    I nodded. I'd thought it all through before a hundred times. "I know..." I told her, my voice hardly a whisper. "But I have to try. I have to. Even if she does kill me."
    I watched as she walked around the table towards me. I could see the emotion in her eyes, and as she slowed to a halt, just for a moment, she looked at me almost as if she was lost in a memory; almost as if it wasn't really me she was looking at... but someone else. Someone she loved. "Wari," I said softly, "I want to know if I can make her remember me... even while she's wearing her bracelet. I want to know if I can convince her I'm her sister. I don't want to wait for its effects to wear off to take her home... I don't want to leave Ballpoint again without her, even if she doesn't remember me yet... just so long as we're together again."
    Wari's lips twitched as she stared at me in silence. "I understand," she finally managed. "If Lokum, my brother, was still alive... I'd do anything I could to save him."
    "Even if you knew you might die," I said quietly.
    She gave a quick nod and looked away, wiping her eyes. "Even if I knew." She paused, and then threw her arms around me, muttering, "My god, you remind me so much of him sometimes."
    It had been years since someone had given me a hug... The only people I could ever recall giving me one were my sister and grandmother... but other than that... not a soul. I returned the embrace gratefully. Sometimes, just knowing someone cares can bring light to the blackest of worlds.
    Wari shook a few times with repressed sobs, but quickly quieted herself. After a minute, she pulled back, putting her hands on my shoulders and looking me in the eyes, smiling through her tears. "No one else could ever love her like you do; no one else could ever know her better. You know more about her than anyone else in this dimension or any other. Vanya... if anyone can manage it... it's you."

~~~

    The months went by quickly. I studied everything I could under Mr Frog's watchful eye, as he taught me the subtle secrets of masonry and mechanics, and the inner workings of Ballpoint and Parasol: how they think, how they work. I know he wanted his PEA... but I think there was something else driving him... Sometimes I caught him looking at me as if lost in a memory... as if there was someone I reminded him of. Since I'd come to work for him, I'd eventually grown to think of him almost as a father... the father I'd never known. He'd seemed to become almost protective of me, and I often wondered why.

    I did get back to Jack Magnus and Draconik to tell them that Wari was all right. Jack Magnus offered his friendship... apparently he'd been asking questions since we'd met... and somehow, he'd learned I was an elf. It blew me away that a soldier who'd fought elves himself could be so open to one of my species. Draconik, on the other hand, offered his assistance instead, volunteering to teach me Parasol's standard combat techniques. I spent many hours with him, training and studying, though I'll admit I'm nowhere near as skilled as he is... I'm only "adequate" at best. He offered to teach me ranged combat, too... but I refused. I'm of the opinion that if you must kill someone... if you can't look them in the eyes as you do it... you shouldn't touch them at all. I think that to take someone's life without giving them a chance is a cruelty.
    I occasionally went to visit Wari, too, and keep her company. As the weeks grew by, we grew closer, becoming good friends... Usually we just talked about whatever came to mind... but sometimes she would try to teach me, or help me out with my quest, like the time she explained Ballpoint's reshaping of my mind, and how the abilities Parasol gave me might show up again someday: "Imagine a painting of masterwork quality. Now imagine someone else comes along and changes parts of that painting with a cheaper paint, putting a completely new layer on. Now imagine that someone else comes along and puts on touches of his own, adding a new layer of cheap paint. Without the bracelet we designed for you, parts of that top layer will peel away over time, and maybe little bits of the layer beneath it, too... but it's hard to say just how it will happen." It's how I took down those soldiers in the hallway outside Mr Frog's room – Ballpoint's layer of mindshaping had "peeled away"... but getting close to the bracelet again put it back, even stronger than before. Wari had a gift for explaining things. It wasn't the only thing she explained, but it's the only one I remember right now...

    During my trips through the fortress, I occasionally caught a glimpse of other people I'd met. One was Talvi, who looked at me almost warily as I passed... there was something different about her, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Another, Fischer, glared at me with hatred as I walked by. Count Splint seemed to allow my presence, but grudgingly. I saw Kannan once, too... he did a double take as he saw my face, and I hurried away, careful never to pass him again.
    I met the current overseer, Reudh, too. Everyone clearly hates him... he seemed to be an outcast, just like me. I stopped to tell him that I felt for him... and remembered to say his honorary title, "Lord". But then he stalked me for a bit and creeped me out... scared me, even. I've tried to avoid him since. Even more than Kannan or Reudh, though, I've been trying to avoid Tomio.
    Mitchewawa saw me once, too, exclaiming, "It's you!" But this time, he wasn't angry, and he didn't want to throw me to the zombies for breakfast... Instead, he asked me if I could ask Mr Frog to spike the booze supply again to "increase civilian efficiency". Apparently, it's something Mr Frog has done before... and I can't really say I'm surprised.

    So many people know I'm an elf... Mr Frog told me he'd had Splint mark me in the records, and I'm an official member of the fortress now. Splint knows, Talvi, Fischer, Jack Magnus, Orodogoth, Count Splint, Mitchewawa, Draignean, Tomio... and yet, for the most part, they're fine with it, and that surprises me. I've wondered many times... how could a military fortress with such a dark reputation be so acceptant of an elf? The only thing I can come up with is that Spearbreakers is already so much of a hellhole compared to the outside world, with all its miasma, and "foreign mercenaries", and zombies, Holistic Spawn, goblin sieges, blood rain... that nothing really surprises people here anymore. They've seen it all.

~~~

    Mr Frog came to me earlier today with a set of armor... it was Ballpoint gray and lined with carbon fiber, and came with a cloak, boots, and gloves... all black. It looked very high-tech, and not dwarven at all.
    "I overcame exceptional difficulty in arranging procedures to acquire these garments, and I'd appreciate your acquiescence in pre-use testing so we can understand what requires custom modification," he told me. I'd grown used to his style of speech... he basically meant he wanted me to try it on. I took it to my room, stripping out of my clothes and putting on the uniform one piece at a time.

    I'd never felt carbon fiber before... it's a dull grayish material, as light as adamantine and supposedly as strong, though it can't hold an edge. Whoever had made the suit had lined the insides with it, and everything was a perfect fit... even the knee-length cape, which felt warm and comfortable fastened around my neck.
    Once I had everything on – boots, gloves, breastplate and all – I stood in front of my mirror, spinning about and looking at myself. It felt... majestic... The cape was a bit over the top for my tastes, though... and I wasn't sure if the smoke grenades attached to the belt were real or not. Really, I didn't even know how to use them. I kept looking, noting the little pouches and buckles for... who knows what... and in one of them, I discovered a sheathed black dagger that was much too big for me.
    That's about when I found the gun holster, and the silvery pistol within. I pulled it out, holding it up and examining it skeptically. It too was a bit too large for my hands... I could just barely reach the trigger. Putting it back in the holster, I removed both and turned on my heel to leave my room, headed for Mr Frog.

    "Well?" he asked when he saw me, his arms crossed. "Do you approve?
    "I don't like the cape or the gun," I told him, handing him the latter. "What is the cape supposed to do, anyway? It seems like it would get stuck in things like doors."
    He nodded thoughtfully. "Oddly enough, capes rarely seem to catch on obstacles... although I can understand your reasoning behind wanting to remove it. It is primarily ornamental. However, this weapon is crucially important to your self-defense. I advise you reconsider." From Mr Frog, that meant "You're going to use it whether you like it or not."
    I shook my head firmly. "I'm not using a gun."
    "Stupid, stupid girl. How do you expect to survive a second expedition through Ballpoint, should circumstances prevent a smooth departure? Through the power of friendship?" He said this last with a hint of disdain.
    I knew going in unarmed was a bad idea... but I didn't want a gun – not knowing what they're capable of. "Where are those knives I fought you with, three years ago?" I asked him. "They felt so much more... natural when I held them. Not like this one," I said pointedly, pulling out the large black dagger from its sheath. "I can hardly get my fingers around it, and it feels so clumsy."
    "Hrmph," he muttered, giving me the evil eye and walking over to a cabinet. He soon returned with a cardboard box with the two sheathed daggers inside. "Silver vampiric blades," he said quietly. "Formerly property of Stova, from when she fought alongside Splint in the Vampiric Wars... but Talvi took them when she died. Splint couldn't bear to look at them." Mr Frog paused, removing one of the knives from its sheath and holding it up. It shimmered and glinted coldly in the light. He looked at it thoughtfully for a moment, and finally spoke. "They were originally the prized possessions of a high vampiric lord... eternally stained with the blood of fallen dwarves." His voice grew quieter as he continued, almost to himself, "They used to lick these, you know... after the battle was over, they would lick the blood of their enemies from their blades..." He finally stopped completely, looking at it almost with regret, as if it recalled a memory he'd rather stayed buried. I watched his face, wondering once more... who was he? He never revealed his past, not even if someone asked directly... He was so mysterious. It was as if he was always trying to run; always trying to forget...
    He started suddenly, looking back at me and replacing them in their case. "They're beautiful weapons. Only vampires were as skilled in the implementation and crafting of silver alloys. Their edges are as sharp as steel... and at least as strong. But why these, of all things?"
    "They felt right in my hands..." I explained softly, but now it seemed an unworthy reason. I'd had no idea they used to belong to Stova... or vampires... though I could remember Carena – my sister, rather – saying something like that to Joseph.
    He only nodded. "Fair enough. If you are satisfied, you may remove your Ballpoint gear and store it until we are ready. It is improbable that you'll have long to wait. Possibly only a few weeks."

    I'm excited, but really, really nervous, too... I know how risky it is, but I have to try to get my sister back. I'm willing to do anything to manage it. Anything at all. I'd... I'd kill for her, if I thought it could bring her back... if I thought it could keep Ballpoint, and more importantly, Joseph, from manipulating her. I feel awful writing that down, but it's true.
    I've had a horrible life, really... an elf growing up among dwarves, an abusive grandfather, little food, few common comforts, living homeless in garbage heaps and abandoned alleyways, multiple interdimensional corporations messing with my mind, screwing up my memories, forcing me to act how they want me to act... It's almost as if Armok himself hates me... almost as if someone up there wants to make my life as miserable as possible. But my sister stayed with me through it all. If I can just get her back... it'll make everything better.
    I'm going to avoid writing in this journal until I get back, whether I succeed or fail. Putting useless words in between there and now just seems wrong somehow. When I do get back... I'm going to make a very long entry (long even for me) about how it went.
    And if I succeed... my sister's going to write it with me.

☆

    The journal ends here. Nothing else from the young writer graces its pages – not a story, not a sketch – and you can't help but wonder...
   
    Did she die?


    The question can only remain unanswered. You flip through the pages one last time, scanning them in vain for anything that might inform you of her fate, but finally resignedly lay her third journal atop the others. It seems fitting that they should rest here until the end of time, gathering dust – one of the last mysteries of Spearbreakers, that mighty fortress of old in which you stand.
    But you've found you've grown almost attached to the young woman. She'd written her hopes and dreams, her trials and fears in her three journals so clearly that you almost feel as if you know her, and it's with a heavy heart that you turn towards the door and leave Mr Frog's ancient, dusty laboratory for the last time.


Vanya trying on her new suit. Art by Splint

[Talvieno]

A Skulker's Tale
Book Two: A Girl's Tattered Heart

Interlude
    You exit the laboratory for the last time, solemnly closing the door behind you and locking it – but not without a tinge of regret. So many secrets remain uncovered... How was it that not only Spearbreakers, but the whole of dwarfkind accepted her, and collectively made her into a legend?
    Disappointed, you accept that you may never know the answers, and return to your camp in the old dining room. You pass dusty engravings on the wall, carved by Simon Tam and Talvi, dwarven characters of lore themselves, and dead for hundreds of years. Talvi's trademark cavy engravings seem to stand out as remnants of a bygone era, lending a fantastical feel to the already ancient fortress. You walk the halls of legends... yet will you ever know their true stories?


    Three days later, you're startled from your midday meal by an unusual event – the air before you shimmers and coalesces, and you get to your feet in surprise, your half-finished plate falling forgotten from your lap. The fork clatters loudly against the floor, a sound that seems distant in your ears as two figures emerge, suited all in white but for black accentuations. On their arms: the Parasol emblem. "Parasol..." you say in bewildered astonishment. "You're from Parasol!"

    The figures remove their helmets, revealing a blonde-haired man, and a dark-haired woman with silver-green eyes. Although she's beautiful, you're far too immersed on the moment to even think of romance, and she nods in response to your exclamation. "Yes, we're from Parasol."
    "But this is incredible!" you exclaim. "I'm Dr. Urist Jones, of –”
    "And I am Dr. Thian Russ. We know who you are, Dr. Jones," the man says with a respectful nod. "In fact, we've been watching you for some time. We think you may be able to assist us... if you'd be willing to oblige." He turns and proceeds towards the portal with his companion.
    You and hasten after them. You don't have the time to gather anything... but no matter. "Of course I'll come!" you say in excitement. "I thought Parasol had turned to dust years ago!"
    Dr. Russ looks at you solemnly over his shoulder as they disappear through the rippling anomaly, and says three words: "Parasol is forever."

    You step through after them, and nearly gasp at what you see. "My gods..." You stand in an underwater chamber, the ceiling at least fifty feet above... For years afterwards you'll struggle in vain to describe it, for the beauty is otherworldly: a cathedral of giants, complete with glass walls and steel beams, towers, buildings, embattlements rising up all around you, continuing far into the distance, the water outside as crystal-clear as if it's naught but a glass of fresh water. Alien creatures, shimmering in iridescent beauty, sail gently by outside. Your eyes follow the steel beams towards the ceiling, and come upon the largest crystal chandelier you've ever seen – shaped as a giant umbrella. Directly beneath it, immaculately crafted into the tile floor, is the Parasol emblem: a red and white parasol... and the red isn't stone or paint, but magma flowing beneath glass. The entire place glows radiantly, but you cannot pinpoint the source of light: it seems to come from everywhere at once. "My gods..." you whisper again, awestruck.

    Behind you, you hear a buzz, and you turn in time to see the silvery, watery air inside a twenty-foot megaportal ripple into nothingness, leaving a giant oval of steel standing in silent solitude.
    Only one question remains in your mind. You spin to the two Parasol employees, who watch you with amusement. "Why do you want me"?
    "Come," they say, and you follow. You soon find yourself at a sort of minecart station... but instead of a minecart, they’re white and steel floating platforms. Your host and hostess lead you onto the nearest, placing their hands flat atop a soft black console and closing their eyes... Smoothly, without the slightest sensation of movement, the air around you shimmers, and the car moves forwards into a huge glass tube, the glass parted at intervals by rings of steel, with a single bar of light stretching along the bottom, far into the distance. Back at home, you have crude light bulbs, but this is beyond anything you've heard of. You can’t tell that the vehicle is on any tracks at all.
    You can only look in wonder around you at the ocean, which soon begins to fly by faster, and faster, until the steel rings are so much of a blur you can't even see them anymore. And yet, there's no wind – no sensation of movement, not even when you switch tracks or turn down a different path. You’d expect such majesty of Heaven, or Valhalla, or Olympus... But of a place crafted by dwarven hands?

    "Vanya herself rode this tunnel," Russ suddenly says in a soft voice, turning back towards you. His hands remain on the dark console.
    "Vanya went to Parasol?" you ask. "Then the stories are true."
    He nods slowly. "The stories are many things. My companion desired that we take you by this path so that you might travel the same that she did, her first time here."
    "She came here more than once?" You try to query further, but Russ turns away, and the question remains unanswered.

    You finally arrive at your destination and exit the vehicle. This area looks older, somehow, and the lights are dimmer. The walls are no longer glass, but steel and stone. The Parasol employees lead you down several stone hallways to a steel door, on which dwarven runes read: "Vanya Carena".
    "Did she live here?" you ask.
    The woman shakes her head, without giving you a glance. "No," she says quietly. "This is her tomb."

    The door opens, and you follow them inside. The chamber is simple – befitting of the elven girl, you feel. The ceiling is a standard 10 feet tall. Neither silver nor gold adorn the walls, only chests and cabinets, locked behind glass doors. At the same time... you somehow feel that this place is almost held in reverence by your hosts. You look at them in askance, but they only lead you further into the room, towards the end of the chamber. Before you is a casket, guarded by a Parasol soldier. The guard stands motionless as you approach and peer into the coffin... and you gasp. Beneath its glassy surface, you see the face of the young elven woman, perfectly preserved. Her hands, arranged carefully atop the gentle curve of her breast, clutch a single rose of platinum.
    "This is Vanya?" you ask them, and they nod. "She only looks asleep... but she's been dead for hundreds of years, hasn't she?"
    "For us, yes," Russ says, seeming uneasy. "But for my companion here..."
    "...she's hardly been gone a month," she finishes for him quietly.
    You glance at her quickly as you note a tremble in her voice. "Who are you?" you question her, puzzled. But she only shakes her head, and your question hangs awkwardly in the air, yet another unanswered mystery.
    Russ changes the subject. "Vanya’s body is kept in a preserved state through a time bubble. In this room, time passes normally. But in that casket... time doesn't pass at all."

    You look back from him towards Vanya's body, and note the red color of her lips, the telltale point of her elven ears, the waves of dark brown hair arranged about her shoulders. "How did she die?"
    You realize it was the wrong question to ask, as the woman suddenly turns and leaves the tomb in such a hurry that you feel you've upset her.
    The weight of a hand comes to rest upon your shoulder, and her companion speaks. "Come with me," he says in a firm, quiet tone.
    You nod, following him to the edge of the room, where sits a table. Upon it, there are several books, stacked atop each other. The man motions for you to sit, and you comply, noting as you do that etched upon the top book's cover is a golden pentagram – a five-pointed star. Vanya's five-pointed star. "This is hers?" you ask.
    He nods. "Yes, but we cannot translate it. Vanya's name isn't natural elvish, and neither is the written or spoken language she used. After the journals you already saw, she only used her elvish script, writing in her elvish language... an obscure tribal dialect, it was used by so few individuals that it was virtually unknown, even before she died."
    Carefully, reverently, you open the book at random. "It's a journal," you say. "I can read the script... What would you like me to do?"
    "Read it aloud," Russ suggests. "There's a recorder built into the table. Take your time, Dr. Urist Jones." With a respectful nod, he turns and leaves the tomb, possibly seeking his companion, leaving you alone but for the guard and Vanya’s quiet form.
    And so you begin.

[Talvieno]

Chapter 27: Salaia
    This is a cardboard-bound journal, standard except for the golden pentagram which graces the front cover. The script is elvish, and flowing. You vaguely recall seeing her use it in her prison journal, but fortunately, it is one of the many languages you know.

    "You're not in Kansas anymore."
    Those were the first words I heard when I set foot inside this place... Yes, they're odd first words... I think it's a reference to a book or something. I don't really know.
    It's so different here... It's not hard to imagine that it's another world. But at the same time, there are elements of things that are the same... It's amazing. Everything's amazing.
    It's been a long time since I wrote a journal entry, but apparently I'm supposed to now. That's what they do here... everyone keeps notes and journals. I don't really have a problem with it... I just wish I had my old journals with me. I don't look forwards to writing my stories all over again.

~~~

    I stood in Mr Frog's laboratory, wearing my new Ballpoint suit. I felt... tall... like I could take on the world. Today was the day I was going to see my sister. Though very much afraid of what might happen, I somehow felt sure of myself. I felt confident, even.
    Mr Frog's low voice rang clear across the room as he paced, hands behind his back. "This espionage attempt will be assuredly different than the previous excursion for all three of you." I stole a glance at Urist as Mr Frog continued, but both Urist and Hans, standing by my side, stayed as erect and motionless as soldiers... which they were. "If Ballpoint reaches the conclusion that you intrude upon their primary location of operation, they will appropriate everything they possess towards your capture. After the convoluted destruction you created during the previous catastrophic escapade," here he glared at us, "you'll require the incorporation of complete discreetness into your technique if your intentions involve survival." He ceased pacing and turned to Wari, giving her a nod. "Wari," he said, indicating he wanted her to continue where he'd left off.
    "We'll be putting you here," Wari said, tapping a large map with a ruler. She continued, but I was so excited I could hardly hear her. I was with Urist again, and I was going to find my sister. So much had happened in the last several weeks...
   
    Splint and someone named Rose had discovered "a conspiracy", and it had turned out that Reudh's odd behavior was due to alcohol poisoning... something unheard of until now. For some reason, Mr Frog suspected Ballpoint.
    Wari and Mr Frog had started working together... actually, Mr Frog seemed to be siding with Parasol, even if he wouldn't join them outright. He'd changed a lot since I met him... he was no longer just in it to survive. No longer was he doing things only for the sake of science. Instead, he said he was doing what he was doing because he felt it's right. He never said it... but I think he thought I was the reason for that change.
    Tomio and Wari were involved in something, too, so long as I'm talking about Wari. I'm not exactly sure what... all I know is that she got onto me once for not watching my back as I returned to Orodogoth's "headquarters". She said he'd followed me back, and that Talvi almost found her, too.
    Talvi had started working out... and like everything else, she'd excelled at it. She managed to get herself down at least fifty pounds... and she sure did look muscular after that. Whenever I passed her in the corridors of the fortress, she would give me a strange look, though...

    "Vanya!" Someone startled me from my thoughts. "Are you even listening?"
    I nodded. "Yes, Wari... Mr Frog's miniportal is going to put us in the storage facility at Ballpoint."
    I saw a frown flit across her face, as she prompted, "And...?"
    Unfortunately, I hadn't listened well enough to know, and I could only shake my head, ashamed.
    Mr Frog had been leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, watching us, but now he came forwards. "You'll exit Ballpoint Technology's premises without contacting your sibling. Though I assure you I'm deeply apologetic, there simply isn't going to be an opportunity."
    "What?!?" I exclaimed, glancing about at everyone's sympathetic expressions. "But... you can't! I've waited so long! I have to get her back!"
    "No." Mr Frog shook his head sternly. "It will compromise the mission. I need that PEA to ensure the survival of this military outpost, and the most successful approach to this particular problem involves brevity."
    "I am sorry, Vanya," Urist said regretfully, tilting his head slightly towards me.
    I turned towards him indignantly. "You knew? You knew I wouldn't get to talk to my sister?" I couldn't believe it. Why would Mr Frog have told him, and not me? And would Urist not have told me? He'd only been back for a few weeks, and Mr Frog had tried to keep us separated as much as possible.
    "Stupid, stupid girl," Mr Frog muttered under his breath. "Your survival is critical to the success of the mission. Contacting your sister is dangerous, and there's no guarantee you'd succeed in converting her. However, there is every indication it would slow your return, and more importantly, you could be killed. I can't allow that."
    I stared at them openmouthed as Mr Frog activated the portal and handed me the portal bracelet. Urist and Hans walked through, Hans giving me a sad frown as he left.
    "Go on," Wari whispered from behind my left shoulder. "I'm sorry. You'll get her back someday, I promise."
    For a third time I walked through the shimmering air, praying to the gods that it wouldn't be the last. I was more than upset... I just wanted to get the mission done with.


    Everything shifted... space unraveling, twisting... I felt dead, duplicated, disconnected from reality, disjointed questions running through my mind: is this what ghosts feel like?


    I stood inside Ballpoint.
    "Shh," Urist warned me, pointing at a chatting group of soldiers far ahead. We stood in a darkened corner of Ballpoint's massive storage warehouse, the towering pillars of shelving holding up the ceiling so far above. Urist and Hans stood in front of me.
    I grimaced and whispered back, "What do we do?"
    "Hans and I are going to create a distraction," he said quietly. "We will meet you back here when it is done. You have the location of Mr Frog's PEA, so get it, and come back here to wait for us."
    Their plan seemed too dangerous, and I didn't like it. "When did you discuss this?"
    "You spent a long time gettin' into the portal, Missus," Hans said in a low voice. "We will be fine, don't you worry. The hallways here are mostly empty, y'know."
    I didn't even have a chance to protest... they left so quickly.

    It wasn't long before it happened: the mass of chatting, laughing Ballpoint soldiers suddenly quieted and jogged towards the exit. Urist and Hans had clearly succeeded. Praying they were all right, I left the shadows myself, moving towards the shelving coordinates of Mr Frog's PEA. I had them written on my hand in pen: "XFY, 1393, 3"... just like Halion had told me the last time I was there... The memory of him crossed my mind again, and the memory of the woman I'd talked to just before I'd seen him lying dead on the floor... the woman with the golden bracelet. The woman who was my sister. I hadn't even recognized her at the time.
    Giant mechanical spiders, the warehouse's automated caretakers, traversed the shelves overhead as I walked through the aisles. Nobody seemed to be piloting them, and I wondered why...
    Much of what happened after that was because I couldn't stay focused on my mission.

~~~

    I stood in front of the empty shelf again, just where I'd been the time before. Holding my breath, I reached out, carefully, carefully moving my hand downwards through the empty space, and soon felt something solid beneath my palm. The air shimmered, and a PEA appeared. It was Mr Frog's, and it looked just like one of the ones I'd seen him using at Spearbreakers. I slipped it into one of the pouches at my belt, turning back towards our rendezvous corner with a sigh... But then, I stopped, stunned...
    Before me stood my sister.

    She wore a suit similar to the one I'd worn each time I'd come to Ballpoint before - tight fitting and sleek. Even so, I felt like I was dreaming. She looked so much like me... only younger... she looked to be about 16. Memories rushed through my mind - playing together, eating together, laughing together...
    Her words, dark and ominous, broke the silence. "When I heard there were intruders in the fortress, I knew you'd come here. I studied up on you after you came here last - you've been trying to impersonate me for years. You actually almost ruined my good name last time..." She drew a long, slender sword from a sheath at her waist as she spoke. "This time, you won't be leaving here alive. I am the only Vanya Carena."
    The dream was shattered. "Look at me! Look at how much alike we look!" I tried to reason with her, feeling panicked and short of breath. "We're sisters!"
    Carena only laughed hatefully, saying, "Looking alike doesn't mean anything." With that, she lunged, her weapon slicing through the air.
    I threw myself sideways, landing on my shoulders and rolling to my feet as Draconik had taught me. She lunged again, and I jumped through the shelving, tumbling out onto the other side. I was hardly through before Carena leapt in after me.
    "Fight me, you coward!" she roared angrily, slicing at me again with her blade. I jumped backwards again, slightly unsteady on my feet. "Quit dancing away like a fool!"
    "I won't! I won't hurt you!" My voice trembled as I spoke, and I suddenly realized just how afraid I was of what she'd become.
    "Then you will die even faster." She lunged again, and I sidestepped the stroke, but hardly in time - her blade slid across my leg. If it hadn't been for the carbon fiber armor I'm sure she would've severed it.
    She looked at my leg in surprise. "Armor?"
    I ignored her question, backing away and trying to put distance between us. "Carena, think back: do you remember who you practiced swordfighting with, in the mountainhome barracks?"
    She looked up from my leg, drawing a sharp breath. "So you've been researching me, as well... For your information, I studied alone. And I became quite good at it, too." With these words, she made a running jump, flying through the air. I barely managed to duck below the blade as it whistled over my head. As she landed on the ground behind me, I turned and ran as fast as I could down the aisle. I knew the only chance I had was to keep away from her. I couldn't dodge forever.
    "Come back here!" Carena screamed at me. Although I didn't look back, I could tell by her voice that she was running after me. "I'll shoot you!"
    "My sister wouldn't shoot someone in the back!" I yelled back as bravely as I could. I knew my sister well enough to know she would never kill someone at range. I just hoped they hadn't altered her mind to the point that I was wrong. I turned towards her, walking backwards while she approached me at a sprint. "Wasn't seven pretty young to be forced to leave home alone?" I called out in askance. "Don't you think your grandfather would've sent someone with you?"
    "I hated that man!" she yelled, the loathing apparent in her voice. "I ran away from home, and no one came with me!" She reached me, slicing at me again and again, her sword twirling about. I ducked, dodged, sidestepped, and found myself backed against the corner of a shelf. She struck again, meaning to sever my head. I knew her moves. I could remember. We'd practiced together, years before.
    I ducked, and the sword flew across the thin metal of the shelving corner. Slowly, it slipped, and I backed away from her as she watched it, her eyes widening as she realized what she'd done. All the way to the ceiling, the entire stack of shelves began to tip...
    My aggressor stood motionless before them, looking upwards in stunned surprise. "Carena, run..." I urged her, turning hesitantly on my heel and starting to sprint away. "CARENA, RUN!"
    My yell seemed to snap her out of it, and as we fled, the shelves began to fall, cascading items - computers, weaponry, armor - pouring down behind us with an unimaginable noise. The entire set of shelving on my right seemed to rip itself away from the floor with a shuddering groan, twisting and crashing against the opposite side of the aisle. I looked up and watched in horrified fascination as they crushed one of the giant metal spiders between them in a shower of sparks. The damaged vehicle fell in smoking pieces to the floor, its clanging and clattering lost in the din.

    I finally escaped, rushing out towards the warehouse doors and pausing to catch my breath. Carena did the same, turning to me and muttering, "That was your fault."
    I rolled my eyes. "Oh, sure, put the blame on me," I said sarcastically. I didn't notice the hatred behind her accusation until too late.
    Carena came at me again in a fury. I ducked and dodged, sidestepping her strikes as best as I could, but she was learning. Suddenly she carved a sweeping stroke so close across the air that I had to throw myself backwards. She caught me behind the leg with another attack, and I fell onto the floor. As she swung towards my face to finish me, I snatched my vampiric daggers from my belt, holding them up in a cross, and caught her blade. She looked at me, panting, trying in vain to drive her sword closer to my head. I was panting, too, and sweating. I could hear Wari's voice in my mind: "You know more about her than anyone else in this dimension or any other. Vanya... if anyone can manage it... it's you."
    "I know you!" I yelled, sending her weapon to the side and scrambling to my feet. She sent another swipe at me; I deflected it. "You didn't have to carry any luggage to Spearbreakers, remember? I carried it for you! I carried it! You were only ten! You had a crush on one of the boys in the caravan!"
    "I didn't carry any luggage!" she roared, striking with so much force that I slid across the smooth concrete floor as I blocked. "I never had anything! Anything!"
    I leapt back, trying to put distance between us, and prayed Urist would come back soon. I thought that if we could just get her to Spearbreakers, Mr Frog would be able to convince her... and we could take away her bracelet... I could see it glinting: a golden ring around her wrist, shaped just like the one that I'd once called mine. "You're not like this!" I insisted, as she approached me cautiously. "They're controlling you with that bracelet! It's not real gold, it's just a device designed to control your mind!" She hesitated, and it fueled my confidence. "You need to destroy it."
    It was a foolish suggestion to make. "My parents gave me this," she said, scowling. "My grandfather tried to keep it from me, but I've had it since I was a baby." She leapt at me again. I deflected her blade towards the ground, where it struck so quickly it even threw a few sparks. She couldn't remember my strategies, or she'd have beaten me already... it was the one advantage I had. I knew her tactics.
    "Don't you even know why you hate your grandfather?" I asked, trying to hit something she would've wondered about. "Haven't you ever stopped to think about it?"
    But she didn't respond, striking violently, rapidly at me. I blocked, dodged, deflected, but finally she struck so hard it knocked one of my daggers from my sore hands. It skittered across the floor, and she kicked it away with her foot. She didn't seem triumphant about her accomplishment, though... only confused.
    Taking her confusion as a sign that I was succeeding, I continued, even as she struck back at me. "You used to share a bed with someone at the mountainhome, don't you remember?" She struck again, and I deflected, gripping my dagger tightly with both hands.
    "It was a friend," she said, though her voice betrayed her doubts.
    I jumped and rolled to the side, getting to my feet and backing away. "It was me!" I shouted. "It was me! Our grandfather hated us! You don't remember why you hated him, but that's because of why!"
    Her lip trembled as she ran at me again, flinging her sword with reckless abandon, trying to remove my head. I blocked her messy strokes as best as I could, and a hope welled in my heart: I was getting through to her.
    "You don't remember! You couldn't remember! Ballpoint made you forget me, Carena! I'm Vanya! I'm your sister!"
    "I don't have a sister!" she screamed in a fit of rage, whipping out with her sword so quickly I couldn't even see it. It struck me across the back of the arm, piercing the carbon fiber armor and biting into my skin. I screamed in agony, dropping my second dagger and clutching tightly at the wound.
    "You hit me!" I cried out in fear and disbelief. "You hit me!" My eyes welled with tears at the pain.
    "I'm not your sister!" she growled, kicking my weapon away in disgust. Her face was contorted with loathing, frustration, confusion... I'm not sure even she knew what she felt. She looked... scared.
    I tried to scramble away as she approached, but found to my dismay I was backed against a wall. I didn't have anything left to pull. I was sure it was the end... but I still wasn't giving up on her: "You don't remember why you hate your grandfather because of what he did to me," I said quietly, tears streaking my face. "When he was angry, he would hit me. He wouldn't hit you, but he made you watch."
    Her sword quavered visibly as she made a clumsy strike at my head. Ducking to avoid it, I heard it embed itself in the wall above me, the metal reverberating. Letting go of it, she pulled out her pistol and aimed it at my head.
    "He gave you sweets afterwards to try to drive us apart," I whispered, shaking with repressed sobs and praying for a miracle. "But you remember that, don't you, Salaia?"
    The name struck her with all the force of a chiming bell tower, and she seemed to pause, her pistol beginning to tremble as she processed it. She remembered her name. I could see it in her eyes: the doubt, the wondering, the questioning. So many things she couldn't explain, and I was explaining them for her. She backed up slowly, shaking her head and uncomfortably gripping her pistol with two hands to try to steady it. "No," she said forcefully, unsure of herself. "It's not true. You're lying!"
    I got to my feet, keeping pace with her as she backed away; ignoring the pistol aimed at my breast. "You don't ever remember having to get food for yourself at Spearbreakers, or anywhere else - I always got it for you," I said quietly, my hope refreshed. "You don't remember who took care of you when you were sick, but that was me, too. I was always there, protecting you. I loved you, Salaia."
    "Shut up," she said quietly, and then in a desperate scream: "SHUT UP!" Her pistol shook in her hands, and she gritted her teeth, aiming it alternately at my head and chest as she began to shake with sobs.
    Stepping forwards, I pressed myself against the pistol, knowing full well that my life was on the line. Even if she killed me, I was going to get my sister back. "You don't remember having the bracelet before Spearbreakers because Ballpoint gave it to you. It's made to make sure you don't get your old memories back," I said, my voice breaking with emotion. "This isn't you! Your name is Salaia, and you're my sister!!"
   
    For a moment, she paused, looking at me with doubtful, wondering eyes. Then, so, so slowly, watching me, she removed a trembling hand from her pistol, slipping her bracelet over her fingers. Her eyes left mine as she held it up, looking at it in the light. It rested there for a moment, seeming to take on such a paramount of importance as a framed image. Her eyes slowly shifted from it and back to mine, her lip trembled, and then... she dropped it.
    As if in slow motion, we watched the bracelet together as it fell slowly towards the floor, spinning, tumbling end over end... and then, hitting the ground... it shattered... sending little golden pieces splintering in all directions.

    Salaia's mouth fell open as her gaze wandered back up, up, to the quivering pistol she held at my breast, and finally to my eyes. A single tear rolled down her bewildered face. "I..."
   
    Her sentence hung unfinished in the air: I heard a gunshot from behind us, and a bullet struck her chest, her weapon falling from her hand. Her face froze in an expression of pain and surprise.

    "NO!!!" I screamed, rushing forwards to catch her as her body crumpled to the ground, coming to a halt among the golden pieces. I started crying in earnest. "Please, Salaia, don't die... please..." Blood began to stain the dark gray of her Ballpoint suit, and she lay there with her eyes tightly shut, moaning in agony. I heard yelling coming from the direction of the warehouse doors, explosions, gunfire, the ricochet of bullets, but it sounded worlds away, and I prayed to every god I knew of for a miracle.
    Salaia whimpered with pain, her eyes fluttering open as she struggled to focus on my face. I sobbed, clutching her hand tightly. "Please, stay with me," I begged her, my voice trembling. "Please. I promised I'd come back for you, do you remember? We're going to go back to Spearbreakers. Everything's going to be okay. We're going to be together again, just like we used to be." I felt her squeeze my hand in response as she nodded weakly, blinking back tears. Slowly, deliberately, she moved, trying to get up.

    Suddenly her face exploded in a spray of reddish mist, as someone fired two more rounds into her forehead.
   

    "Vanya, are you all right?" a deep voice rumbled, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me roughly to my feet. Someone slipped my daggers into their sheaths. I looked up in shock...
    It was Urist.
    "You killed her..." I said quietly, wide-eyed, shaking my head as I tried to take it all in.
    "I saw her from the door when I entered - she was about to kill you. I had no choice. Now come, we must hurry." Turning, he pulled me after him, firing a fusillade of shots towards the warehouse doors. Hans followed us, raining bullets towards our pursuers... I couldn't even keep up, stumbling as Urist dragged me along at a rapid pace. My legs refused to work.
    I couldn't believe it. My sister was dead. I tried to pull away, tried to rush back to her body on the floor, but he held my wrist too tight. I shook, doubled over with sobs. "You killed her!" I screamed, flailing uselessly against him. "You! You monster, you killed her!"
    "Vanya, I did what I had to!" Urist yelled, tugging me along with one hand as he fired shots with the other. "Everybody dies, Vanya! One Ballpoint soldier's life isn't worth losing you." A grenade landed beside us, and Hans swatted it away with a huge hand. Urist pulled me down as an RPG rushed overhead. The incessant sound of gunfire pounded in my ears, distant explosions echoing through the aisles.
    I was in a daze... I felt dizzy, sick, and I couldn't even think straight... but more than anything else, I felt enraged. I'd lost my sister for a second time... and this time, she was never coming back. And it was all because of Urist. "Did you even stop to wonder who she was?" I shouted through my tears. "Would you even have cared?"
    "Enough!" Urist yelled in frustration. "Are all of our lives worth that of a single Ballpoint soldier? Get that portal open!"
    Struggling with the portal bracelet, I jerked it clumsily off my wrist, wiping my blurring eyes uselessly with my fingers. I pressed the button, and the air within it spiraled into oblivion. Moments later, a larger portal formed before me, and without even waiting for Urist and Hans, I stumbled through.   

☆

[Talvieno]

Chapter 28: An Invasion
    "I never knew..."
    You look up from the journal in surprise at the dark-haired woman who sits across the table from you. You'd been so absorbed in what you were reading you hadn't even noticed that she'd entered.
    "I never knew..." she whispers again, wiping her eyes absently with the tip of a finger.
    "What do you mean?" you ask her. "What do you mean, you 'never knew'?" There's a brief silence as neither of you speak, and you tilt your head curiously, venturing a further question: "Who are you?"
    But she only shakes her head and composes herself, saying, "Don't. Please, just continue reading..."
    You hesitate for a moment before you oblige, watching her. She stares back at you with her fingers folded in front of her face. Then, giving up, you turn the page and begin reading the next entry.

    Mr Frog told me once that the universe is like a floating soap bubble, and that Parasol, Ballpoint and Eris are like tiny bubbles stuck to the outside of it. I never really grasped how accurate his analogy was until I saw proof of it myself. It extends so much farther than he said... the smaller soap bubbles can be inside the main one, floating there by themselves, moving about with little effort. It's odd to think I'd spent most of the past couple of years living in a tiny "soap bubble" inside a bigger "soap bubble", but then, I never really figured it out until after it had gone...

~~~

    I fell, nothingness whirling about me like a funnel cloud. Nothing existed; not space, not light, not sound... and somehow, I was able to breathe... but I didn't really want to be breathing at all... I'd lost my sister. While she'd been alive, she was all that I'd lived for; she'd been all that I'd cared about... and then she'd died. Or at least, I thought she did. Suddenly, one day, I'd found out she wasn't dead at all... and then, just as suddenly, she was gone, again. This time, I'd watched her die. I'd held her hand in mine as she'd breathed her last... and I never even got to say goodbye.
    I didn't really care about anything anymore... but that didn't mean I wasn't in pain.

    Without warning, I materialized on the other side, stumbling forwards and falling to my knees as I wept loudly for my sister's death. Salaia... sweet Salaia... she'd never done anything wrong. She didn't deserve death. I had never done anything to deserve any of the things that kept happening to us. It seemed the universe itself took a perverse, sadistic pleasure in watching me suffer. Tears streaked my blood-spattered face, and I didn't even care to wipe them away, taking off the accursed PEA that hung at my belt and tossing it bitterly to the side.
    Then, it dawned on me: Where was Mr Frog?
    I looked up, and what I saw stunned me into silence. I wiped my eyes to clear them, but it couldn't be denied: I wasn't in Mr Frog's laboratory anymore. Looking about in bewilderment, I wondered what had happened. The ceiling and walls, made of rough, unchiseled stone, were far too close... The room was smaller than it should have been, and completely empty: there wasn't a piece of furniture or lab equipment anywhere in sight. Mr Frog's miniportal sat behind me, and a stone door stood framed in the wall to my left, exactly where I would've expected it to be... but apart from that, little was the same.

    Carefully dragging myself to my feet, I walked to the door and peeked out. The hallway outside was empty, but it was familiar enough for me to know: I was in Mr Frog's room. ...Or at least, what used to be his room.
    As I looked about, I noticed a squad of Ballpoint soldiers stationed down the hallway, far to my right. Shattered as I felt, it wasn't hard to figure out that Ballpoint had attacked Mr Frog. I decided it was probably because he sent me in again.
    Behind me, I heard a loud hum from Mr Frog's portal, followed by Urist's and Hans' muttering and exclamations as they too realized that Mr Frog's laboratory had vanished. I scowled at the very thought of them, and forced myself into the hallway, closing the door as I went. I didn't want to talk to Urist, and more than that, I didn't want him to talk to me.
    I didn't really care that my ears were visible. I didn't care that Ballpoint was everywhere. I didn't care if they killed me. I simply didn't care. What did I have to live for? Feeling sick and lightheaded, I staggered slowly in the direction of the contractors, hoping that they might know who I was, and end the nightmare that had kept me in its clutches for far, far too long. I didn't even feel I was a part of the world anymore, so why should I remain?
 
    A voice shouted in the distance. "Vanya! I know what happened!" I struggled to bring my eyes to focus on the group of Ballpoint soldiers as they began struggling with their captive, who reached out for me. "Vanya, don't give up!" It was Wari. I felt myself warm ever so slightly to her voice. "There's still hope!" she yelled. "Leave and get to Parasol!"
    A few of the soldiers began beating Wari with their weapons to quiet her, while the rest began jogging towards me. I watched them with deadened eyes as they approached... but with every strike the others laid on Wari, I felt her agony with her in my heart, a teardrop sliding down my cheek.
    "I promised you, Vanya! I don't make promises lightly!" Wari shouted at me, her voice distorted with pain. "Vanya, run!"
    Still they approached, less than 30 meters away, and yet I still stood silently, unable to will my leaden limbs to move. I processed what she said... but my sluggish mind couldn't remember what she'd promised. Yet, in the back of my mind, there was a little glimmer of hope... just a little... that she was talking about my sister.
    They were almost to me, and I tried in vain to move.
    "VANYA, RUN!" Wari screamed.
    Finally, my legs obeyed, and I stumbled in the opposite direction, step, by step, by painful step, and as I ran, I began to gain speed, until my legs seemed to fly, my surroundings blurring as I fled.
    "RUN, VANYA!" she screamed after me. "NEVER LOOK BACK!"

    And I ran.
    Even if my sister was dead... even if I hated Urist... there was still Wari. There was still Mr Frog. There was still Jack Magnus, and Draconik, and Splint, and most importantly, there was still Spearbreakers: a horrible fortress filled with wonderful people.
    Scattered dwarves glanced at me as I passed them, fleeing through the hallways and up the stairs, but if they noted my strange armor or elven ears, they said nothing. I saw groups of Ballpoint soldiers, clad in dwarven armor... I could hear the occasional hum of portals, the sound of clashing weapons and muffled screaming of civilians.
    Spearbreakers was under attack.

    I ran out towards the entrances, through the upper hallways, and into Jack Magnus. The collision knocked me backwards onto the ground.
    "Whoa, there! Slow down!" he laughed, pulling me to my feet. "What's the hurry?" Then, quietly, "Vanya, your ears are uncovered..." He removed a cap from his head and put it on mine, curiously examining my face. "Are you okay, sweetheart? You've been crying."
    I quieted my heavy breathing as best as I could. "Where is everyone?" I asked, feeling the hat gently with my hand, pulling it over my ears.
    "Cleaning up after the last siege..." he said, quizzically searching my face. "What's wrong?"
    I looked up desperately at his face. "Jack, Spearbreakers is under attack. It's... it's the mercenaries. They're back. And..." I hesitated, but I had a feeling it wouldn't be long before he knew everything. "...they're after me."
    "The mercs?" He raised an eyebrow in surprise, adding, "We sent them packing almost a year ago, now. Wait, that caravan of soldiers in the trade depot - is that them, too?" With a frown, he nodded his head towards the courtyard behind him.
    Looking past him in that direction, I saw a squad of contractors jogging towards us. "Jack," I whispered pointedly. He spun around, and even as he did so, he pulled his axe from where it hung at his side.
    Jack Magnus turned back once more over his shoulder, giving me a nod. "Vanya, I'll hold them back for a minute. You get somewhere safe. Tell Mitch to sound the alarm, and then find Fischer." He set his feet in an attack stance and waited calmly, tapping his axeshaft against his hand.
    I didn't stay to watch. Turning, I began running towards the Hospital, where Mitchewawa usually was.

    Down the stairs I went, tripping and stumbling, trying to keep myself moving. I felt exhausted, wanting to fall asleep and never wake up. As I continued down the hallways towards the hospital, I passed Reudh, on the way to his office and sifting through an armful of paperwork. On a whim, I slowed my footsteps and turned around - if I couldn't find Mitchewawa, Reudh would do just as well, though I still felt a little guilty about how I'd wrongly judged him.
    "Lord Reudh?" I asked, panting.
    "Is something the matter?" he asked quickly, lowering the papers he was studying.
    "J... Jack..." Surprised, I paused and tried to collect myself. I'd never had a problem with stuttering before. "Jack Magnus wants the alarm sounded. Spearbreakers is under attack... It's the mercenaries."
    As I spoke, concern etched itself across his face. "Certainly! It will be done at once! I am dreadfully sorry if you've been attacked! Might I be able to assist?" He looked at me inquiringly, almost hopefully.
    I shook my head numbly, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of events. "No... No. But thank you."
    I started to leave, but then I stopped. Turning back, I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek - just a peck - as a sort of apology. With that, I left, running back towards the stairs.

    As I began to ascend Spearbreakers' spiral staircase towards the barracks, I heard soldiers shouting, "There!" I didn't wait to find out if they were talking about me. If they had the way blocked, then there was no way for me to find Colonel Fischer, and so I made a change of plans. There was still one way out of the fortress... Mr Frog's mossy tunnels. Praying I would be able to find my way through them, I turned around, going back down the stairs. I felt bewildered, sick, and dizzy... but my legs were moving. I hoped that was enough.
    When I reached the apartment level, I heard a familiar voice yelling in the distance: "Pocket sand! ...Squirrel tactics!" I looked through the doorway as I passed and saw a group of contractors clutching at their eyes. Orodogoth helped Wari escape them, and they entered a portal together, just before it dissipated.
    I watched the contractors for a moment... and then an idea wormed its way into my mind... Ballpoint was after me...
    "Hey!" I yelled, wincing at how sore my throat was. The soldiers pointed at me and began running... and I did the same. Down, down, down... One foot after the other, one step after the next.
   
    I soon passed Tomio on the stairs. He was standing by a group of levers on the wall, so silently that I didn't even know he was there until he grabbed my arm. "Stop!" he cried out, pulling me to a halt. I made a weak attempt to get away, but he held me tight. "Calm down!" he hissed. "There's something Wari wanted me to tell you."
    I stopped struggling and examined his face suspiciously. I could hear Ballpoint soldiers above us on the stairs, coming down after me in a tumult of bootsteps.
    "'Honeycomb', she said." He grimaced, as if saying something so nonsensical hurt his pride. "She wanted me to tell you 'Honeycomb'."
    "What?" I asked. "What does that mean?"
    He shrugged. "She said it was something she wanted you to remember." The heavy sound of iron boots approached, and Tomio spun me around, sending me down the stairs with a shove. "Get to Orod's headquarters!" he called out. "Don't worry about me."
    As I hurried down the steps once more, I heard the clanking and grinding of machinery far above, Tomio's shouts, and the agonized yells of Ballpoint soldiers. I never found out what he'd done to them... Tomio the inventor... I'd never thought he might save me in the end - he didn't even like me.

    And I ran. All I ever do is run, leaving everything I know and love behind me. It's all I've ever done; it's all I've ever been able to do.
    I fled down the stairs, past the coffins in the upper hallway, down to the level of Orodogoth's workshop. The corridors were empty but for Rose, one of Splint's hammerguards, who looked at me strangely. It wasn't long before I reached the corner and turned towards Orodogoth's workshop, but then I stopped: far down the hallway was a group of gray-clad soldiers, and at their head walked a familiar figure: Commander Acetalyta.
    I felt a slight rage in my heart towards her, but just briefly... just until I remembered why I was upset. I'd thought Urist had seduced her. The thought of him only made me angrier, and I forgot for a moment where I was.
    "It's her!" the commander shouted accusingly, her voice echoing against the stone. "Get her!" As one, they rushed towards me, drawing their weapons. I turned and fled back the way I had come, the Ballpoint contractors in hot pursuit. But I was tired... I hardly had anything left, and I knew they were gaining.
    As I passed Rose, I halted for a moment, looking at her pleadingly. We weren't exactly friends... in fact, we'd never talked, but I didn't have any choice. "Please," I panted, "I need help. They're after me."
    Her brow furrowed in the flickering torchlight, and she nodded. Far above us, the great drums of battle began to beat, muffled by the stone, and we looked up towards it as one for a moment. Reudh had sounded the alarm. They were rallying the troops. I prayed it meant they would be able to save the fortress.
    Looking back at me uneasily, Rose tucked her hair behind an ear. "Go," she told me. "I'll take care of it." I nodded gratefully and staggered away, forcing my protesting feet once more into a run. I was headed for the caverns, and Mr Frog's mossy, hidden tunnels.
    Rose was a newer recruit... I've never heard what happened to her. If she died because of me... I don't think I could live with the guilt... I don't want to think about it.

    Time seemed to slip away as I ran down the massive, spiraling staircase that descended all the way to the magma seas below. I don't remember much of it. Somewhere along the line, I met Talvi, who was coming up the staircase from the forges. I felt glad to see her... but at the same time, I felt dizzy from exhaustion. My side, my legs, even my lungs ached.
    "Miss Talvi," I said quietly, thankfully. "I'm so happy to see you." I swayed, clutching at the wall beside me to steady myself, trying to calm my breath. My heart thudded in my chest so hard I could felt it was shaking me.
    She hung back for a moment, looking at me curiously. "V... You look tired, y'do... Like a mushroom pudding that ain't got any fat..."
    "I'm very tired," I nodded in agreement, gulping. My mouth was so dry, I found it hard to swallow. "I need to get into the caverns."
    She ignored what I'd said, seemingly suspicious. "Those're some strange clothes you're wearin', they is... Reminds me of somethin', but I cain't say fer sure what it do..."
    "Miss Talvi, please, focus," I begged her. I didn't even consider it might sound rude. "I need to get to the caverns, but I can't see in the dark, and I don't know the way. I need to get to where Mr Frog did the experiments with the gorlaks."
    She nodded slowly, looking me up and down with a careful eye. "I know where that is... Y'passed it a while back, tho'... Lemme take y'there. 'Kay?"
    "Thank you, Miss Talvi," I whispered, following her willingly back up the staircase.

    Talvi walked ahead with a torch as she led me through the caverns. If I'd been thinking about it, it would've struck me as odd that she was so silent... but my mind was on my sister. The image of her face as she'd looked at me that last time... that quizzical, puzzled, bewildered look... it was burned into my mind, and as we walked, I felt tears rolling down my cheeks. Talvi looked back at me once or twice, but she said nothing encouraging or sympathetic.
    Together we traveled up through the caves, through dark and dusty passages that Talvi and so few others knew... and finally emerged upon a ledge above the cavern proper, deep chasms looming at our feet.
    "We're here, V," Talvi said quietly. She didn't turn around.
    We obviously weren't there. "Miss Talvi, this isn't it. We're going somewhere else. Did you forget?"
    Her voice was quiet, ominous, as it broke the eerie silence of the caverns. "Yes I did." She turned towards me, the flickering torch she held in her hand throwing shadows across her face. She furrowed her brow, and it was only too late that I realized what was going on.
    With a scowl, she stepped forwards and shoved me roughly backwards.
    "Talvi!!" I screamed, stumbling, slipping, sliding down the steep-sloped lip of the ledge on which we stood, panicking as I tried to find somewhere to grab. "Talvi, what are you doing?!"
    She approached me slowly, menacingly. "I did ferget, V... I fergot a lot o' stuff, an' it's all yer fault."
    "What are you talking about?!" I said, panicking as I tried to claw my way back up the steep slope. Talvi gave me a kick, sending me sliding down even farther as my fingers dislodged rocks and pebbles. "Talvi, stop!" I screamed. I was only a few feet from the edge.
    "You know full well what I'm talkin' about, V gurl," she spat. "Don't you dare play dumb with me! Do'you think I'm a stupid cavy? Is that it, V? You don't think I remember none?"
    I clawed desperately for a handhold, and finally found one, halting my descent, but not soon enough: my legs, rolling on pebbles and loose stones, slipped over the edge and fell. I was dangling by my arms. Looking behind me at the massive cavern, I could see the fires of Ugeth flickering over a hundred feet below. The cruel irony of the situation struck me... I'd done this same thing to someone, years before...
    "I remember ever'thing, V," Talvi muttered, approaching me slowly, torch in hand. "You betrayed me, you did. Same as a monkey's tail. I remember you shovin' that needle into my arm." Her face twisted with hatred, and her voice escalated to a yell. "I took you in, V! I pr'tected you! We was friends!"
    "Miss Talvi, please!" I begged, trying to pull myself back up. "We can still be friends!" I was terrified. Less than an hour before I'd been convinced I had no reason to live... but somehow, hanging from the lip of a cliff, everything was different.
    "NO, we CAIN'T, V! You stole Mr Frog right out from unner me, you did! You're workin' for them!" She spat to the side. "That uniform, V. It'd take a fool not to notice it, and I ain't no fool! Same as the coconut who ate 'is brother!" She paused for a moment, thinking. "I wanted t' be that coconut, y'know... I ain't never tasted a coconut before..."
    "Miss Talvi, I don't want Mr Frog!" I said, beginning to cry. "You can have him!" My foot finally caught a ledge, and I started to climb back up, hoping Talvi wouldn't notice.
    She looked at me icily. "V, you betrayed me, and I did ferget stuff, an' it's all 'cause'a you! I don't e'en know what I forgottened! But you did it, V!" She walked forwards carefully down the slope and stood directly before me, glowering with hatred.
    I looked up at her in fear, pleading with my eyes. "I did it to save your life, Miss Talvi! If I hadn't, Mr Frog would've killed you!"
    She made no response, pondering what I'd said.
    "I'm your V girl, remember? Your V girl. I'm a friend. Please, Talvi, help me back up!"
    But Talvi shook her head. "No, V. You betrayed me," she said heartlessly. "Three times, you did. First with th' needle, then stealin' Mr Frog, then joinin' those mercs and bringin' 'em back to Spearbreakers t'murder us all."
    I couldn't believe that sweet, sweet Talvi would be so cruel. "So you're going to betray me in return?" I asked quietly.
    She hesitated, thinking it over carefully. In the silence, I moved up a little with my feet against the rock, climbing back up. One arm after the next, I slowly gained height, leaning forwards.
    Suddenly, she spoke, with a decided tone. "Yes." Snarling, she rested her foot on my face and pushed me backwards into the abyss... As I fell, the last thing I saw was her torchlit face, watching in grim, hateful satisfaction.

☆