The Knights Next Prequel

[Eluvianii he/him]

4 hours ago, Hope Spren said:

"Sorry," Kira said a slight blush rising on her cheeks, "that was way more than you asked for. And I'm still not sure if it made any sense. I promise I'm not trying to be cryptic, it's just kind of difficult to explain." It probably didn't help that she'd never tried to explain it before.

"No it's... it's alright." He wasn't expecting something like that. So was it a physical thing or a spiritual thing? Surely a spiritual thing hadn't healed him, right?

But he didn't think that was the point. Whatever was behind it, it seemed to drive her forward, to give her purpose, so it probably couldn't be watered down to a thing that allows her do magic. She had a clear path before her.

Life before death, huh? He was too late for that.

"I'll check the kitchen." he said, glad to have something to distract him from that train of thought.

[+Sorana she/her]

Wita shrugged at Marcel's compliment. Copying ideas from a series didn't feel smart, but maybe he was right. She didn't particularly care, knew that her storing was darkening her mind most of the time anyway. There was no use to wonder about her few brighter moments.

"I'll take a look at the living room."

She announced at walked through a door close to the entrace. The living room was large and there was a gramophone. Wita started to look through the disks standing next to it, tried to find a song or two that she recognized.

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What do you think about finding some clues, like that he was preparing for a journey to (where the perpendicularities are, maybe somewhere in siberia or the sahara), a hint that he was working against the other organization (a briefing of some sorts // a paycheck)?

All of us could include some tiny tidbits in our posts and then we have a new place to take a look at.

If we don't want to have a longer travel right now, we could say that we tind some hints to his contact person here in london, and go there next? That guy could then hire us/ tell us about the situation with the perpendicularities.

Any thoughts on that?

@Hope Spren @Eluvianii @I think I am here.

[I think I am here. he/him]

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I like that idea. It would be important for all of us to make sure the clues are vague and mysterious, rather than obvious. As for travels, I would like to keep it within London on the current night. Maybe one of the perpendicularities could be in/under Big Ben?

“I guess that leaves the basement for me,” Marcel said, walking towards the small couple of steps that led to a sturdy wooden door. Marcel didn’t need to lay a hand on the door handle to tell it was going to be locked. But he did try to open it anyway, because assuming was bad for everyone, and voila, the door was locked.

Sighing Marcel peered into his pockets and brought out one of his bloodseals. It was another strength sigil, flat at the bottom to fit the etchings of a stamp and sharp at the top. All well-made bloodseals were sharp at the top, for the conveniences of the bloodsealer. Pricking himself in the finger, Marcel stopped the bleeding by absorbing the blood onto the stamp, and then pressing the bloodseal straight against the door.

It was another strength sigil, like the one he had used against the man at the disco. It glowed a crimson red and Marcel felt his finger burn like agony for a moment, then cut out. The stronger and more complicated the bloodseal, the more pain it gave to the subject. Stepping forward Marcel punched into the door and it moved back a little with a ‘humph’. Another punch and a kick and the door flew off of its hinges.

Walking into the dark basement, Marcel cancelled the bloodseal and began looking for clues.

[Eluvianii he/him]

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So, only things that tell us that he had business inside the city?

Lewis made his way to the kitchen. It wasn't big, nor did it have a lot in it. It certainly wasn't what you would expect from a family. So he lived alone.

That was good. A family suddenly arriving while they were searching the house would be serious trouble. Now they needed to find clues, but what could be in the kitchen? Not the best place to make evil plans. He started opening drawers and searching shelves anyway, not sure what he was looking for.

[I think I am here. he/him]

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Yeah, and that it had something to do with Perpendicularities.

The basement was sparse, which made it easy to search for clues once Marcel had turned the lights on. The cheaply-bought tube lights hummed and flickered before casting their glow on the wide room - if you could call a concrete box a room. The lights created sharp shadows of Marcel figure as he wandered to one of the main features of the dwelling, a large shelf that covered the wall. Many cardboard boxes of different sizes laid across its length.

Taking a look in one, Marcel quickly retracted his hand as a cockroach crawled out. Insects. He hated insects. Looking into the box he just saw a lot of old clothes. The other boxes had similar items, old belongings and some carried working tools, more than usual for a man to carry. Had Christopher been some sort of mechanic, or did he just have a hobby of tinkering? If he was the latter, there was certainly no trace left of his antics, so Marcel closed the box and continued.

The cockroaches were getting out of hand. As Marcel disturbed more boxes more crawled out, all over the walls, floor and ceiling. There was no way he would get any work done with all of them around. Taking out a stamp made from animal bone, Marcel carefully began scribing again. He needed an Attractor sigil, a complicated one to create for Marcel it was no problem. Not nearly as hard as creating Skeletals.

Marcel cursed. Those bone abominations required too much skill to make, an intimate understanding of bloodsealing and on top of that, a lack of morals. Creating one required expertise in almost every other sigil, weaving them together in one terrifying product. It explained why his site was so good at creating them.

Finishing the seal, Marcel slammed it into one of the cockroaches, coating the bone in splotchy patches of its blood. Picking an empty spot on the wall, Marcel pressed the bloodseal deep, creating raised ridges from the Investiture. It flowed briefly, and almost instantly cockroaches from all around the entire room began flocking to the sigil. The Attractor bloodseal attracted a creature to a specific blood marking, provided it was the same blood type or creature. The pull was normally minimal, but for the cockroaches it was enough to have them all crowd around one spot in particular, not bothering Marcel anymore.

Cockroaches dealt with, Marcel continued to search the basement. It almost seemed there was nothing here until he found the secret room.

Wait, what?

[+Sorana she/her]

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Works for me. Let's break into Big Ben

Wita lifted another disk and grinned when she read the title. Abba. Good taste. She placed the disk on the player and switched it on, smiling happily when she heard the first beats of the music. She lowered the volume a little bit, as she didn't want to disturb the neighbours, but made sure it was still loud enough to be heard easily and then whirled around, started to dance a little. Search the room. Humming to the music she looked around. A few books, a newspaper, stools, a table. Some flowers. As she had no idea what she was looking for.

She wandered over to the table, took a look at the newspaper. It was a few days old and she laughed out loud when she saw, that he had taken the time to pinch holes into it. It was funny, because it was just an old newspaper. She took it with her and took a look at the books. Old magic and rituals, The Shaman's power, and How magic influences our life. With a shrug she left them, but kept the newspaper, to show it to the others. They would most likely think it funny as well. Then she looked under the table and the stools, opened a drawer and finally, as dancing queen was over, exchanged the disk for another one.

 

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Wita won't get this:

The message reads (can change if it's too obvious, but I thought that sunrise is a nice end to the plot, as it's the end of the night.): When the sun kisses the horizon, the time to open the portal has come.

 

[Eluvianii he/him]

After a few minutes, Lewis came to the conclusion that there was nothing unusual about the kitchen save for a singular lack of food. In the fridge he found some bread, a couple apples and a half-empty milk bottle. He wondered how the guy ate.

Still, he kept looking, there may be something hidden in plain sight, and he planned on finding it if that was the case. There was a Big Ben postcard on the counter with nothing written in the back. The man probably planned to send it to his family or something. Not anymore. There were also marks on the table, like he used it for some work before, but it was impossible to make out anything from it. Aside from that and a mouse that ran to hide behind the sink, he found nothing else.

He slumped on a chair, feeling defeated, he didn't know where else to look. Then he saw something.

Through one of the doors he had left open he saw what looked like a piece of paper just sticking out of the wood under the sink. What kind of hiding spot was that? He tore apart the boards, he doubted anyone would be here to notice anyway, and saw what was beneath. It was only a letter, addressed to the late inhabitant of the house. Lewis didn't understand a thing. It talked about some hidden truth, challenging the man to uncover it. Whoever sent it, was trying to play with the man's curiosity and pride. Still, he found too many concepts he didn't understand to make sense of it. He was getting used to it.

Lewis decided to leave the kitchen and show the letter to the others. Maybe Marcel, he seemed to know things about all of them, perhaps he would know something about what was in the letter.

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So, the postcard is because the man probably got obsessed with the place as soon as he found out, and the letter probably what made him start to look into the Perpendicularity. Still subject to change if needed.

 

[WrathofaShardKitten]

Kira entered the bedroom, flicking on the light. A quick glance at the windows showed that the curtains were closed, and the light wouldn't show from the street. "So, any idea of what we should be looking for?" Kira asked Lyssa. She had, as always, followed Kira into the room.

"Voidspren. And spiders. You should always check for spiders. 'Cause if you look for them, then they can't sneak up on you."

"While you are, undoubtedly, correct, I'm not sure that spiders or voidspren," whatever those were, "will help us to figure out what Christopher was doing so far from home." She noticed a bedside table as she spoke, and began looking through it's drawers as she waited for Lyssa to respond.

"Unless it was a spider that did it. Maybe a spider bit Christopher, and it made him do crazy stuff. And then, after he did all the crazy stuff the spider killed him."

"Christopher was killed by a knife wound, not a spider bite," Kira said absently, pulling out some of the papers, and beginning to look through them.

"How do you know? It might have been a really big spider. Besides, it's always been suspicious to me that spiders have so many legs, but can't pick anything up. Seriously. You guys can pick stuff up with only five fingers, and I'm supposed to believe a spider can't do it with eight whole legs? Even if they need to use two to stand on, that still leaves six whole legs. It's clearly an alibi, meant to trick us into believing that the spiders weren't responsible."

"Lyssa, I have never seen a spider pick something up in all the time I've been alive."

Lyssa nodded sagely and whispered, "The conspiracy runs deep. Clearly they've been plotting this for a long time . . . scheming in the shadows, waiting for the perfect time to strike. Who knows who they're going to attack next?! The police would never be able to see past the spiders’ clever alibi and apprehend the true culprit.

"What’s that?”

Kira had no idea. It was a blank envelope. No stamp, and no address. It wasn't even sealed.

She sat down, and emptied the envelope's contents on the bed.

[+Sorana she/her]

Wita continued to listen to the music, changed the disk for another one and then resumed dancing. It was nice to dance, to be able to listen to music. Her time at the disco had been cut short, although what had happened was exciting. She was a detective. And Marcel had offered to teach her things. She had to ask about the beautiful stamps he made. Maybe he could teach her how to do them as well. It would be nice to know how to do some art. There were so many ways she could make a picture with them. She waited for the others to come back, but when nobody came after a while she grew bored and stopped the music. Carefully she put the disks back, in different order, but she put them back, made sure the room was tidy again. She took her time to tidy up, chaos always distracted her. It was better when things were in order. Easier to grasp what was going on and where to find things.

"Hello?" She called out to the others. "Did you find something?"

@Hope Spren @Eluvianii @I think I am here.

Edited October 10, 2019 by Sorana

[I think I am here. he/him]

On 08/10/2019 at 11:21 AM, I think I am here. said:

It almost seemed there was nothing here until he found the secret room.

Wait, what?

It wasn’t really a secret room. More of a secret compartment. Cleverly hidden behind one of the cardboard boxes, a small square cut straight into the concrete. Now, what could this be? Placing the cardboard box gently on the floor, Marcel inspected the compartment. There was a cardboard box in it, just like the other shelves. WORK, was written on it in thick sharpie.

Inside the box were a bunch of interesting things disguised to look boring. Marcel had almost skipped over a paycheck, labelled ‘travel expenses’. Looking deeper into the box, Marcel found a small patch, the type that could be sewed onto a shirt in a couple minutes. It was colour and had no words, instead depicting a swirl of colour in a liquid-type pattern. A logo, perhaps?

Things really got interesting when Max looked into the files and saw blueprints. They were for some machine, or was that the layout of some sort of building. It was so confusing to understand the measurements, the designs, what they represented, but Marcel grabbed it anyway, he’d give it to Wita later. While she stored Zinc almost constantly, she was smart where it counted. She’d be able to translate this architectural mumbo jumbo.

“I did!” Marcel called out in response.

Edited October 10, 2019 by I think I am here.

[Eluvianii he/him]

"Me too, I think" Lewis shouted. He walked to where they had started before going on. "Our man had some weird friends, not the good kind but maybe the only kind he could find." The good kind? Did he even remember what that meant?

Yeah. He did. It was the kind he had in the past. He had left them precisely because he had become the bad kind. Stop it. You have to focus.

He shook his head sending away those thoughts, it wasn't the time. "What about you guys?" he asked a bit loudly, waiting for the others to come back.

[+Sorana she/her]

Wita joined Lewis and held up the Newspaper. "He made dots into the Newspaper." She giggled and showed him the dots. They were scattered all over it and she grinned in delight. "Like he thought he was an artist, but he wasn't good."

"What did you find?" She asked Lewis curiously and called out to Marcel. "Come back to us?"

@I think I am here. @Eluvianii

[Eluvianii he/him]

On 17/10/2019 at 11:37 PM, Sorana said:

Wita joined Lewis and held up the Newspaper. "He made dots into the Newspaper." She giggled and showed him the dots. They were scattered all over it and she grinned in delight. "Like he thought he was an artist, but he wasn't good."

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Just to confirm if I got this right, the dots are a writing?

 

[+Sorana she/her]

5 hours ago, Eluvianii said:

Just to confirm if I got this right, the dots are a writing?

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they are little holes just below letters and if you read them out one after another they form the message I posted above.

 

[I think I am here. he/him]

Marcel walked up the stairs back into the main living room. Looking back to Wita and Lewis, he held up the ‘work’ box up, then set it down on a table. “I found a bunch of stuff. Pay checks, blueprints, and this,” he held up the patch, looking like some sort of swirl of colour. Turning his attention to the others he looked at the newspaper Wita held up.

Narrowing his eyes, he looked at the dots. But why?

“Isn’t it interesting the dots are only in places where there’s text? None of the images or ads have dots.”

[+Sorana she/her]

On 1.11.2019 at 3:08 PM, I think I am here. said:

“Isn’t it interesting the dots are only in places where there’s text? None of the images or ads have dots.”

Wita moved to his side and took a look at the newspaper. He was right. "I haven't noticed." She said slowly and shook her head as if to think more clearly. It didn't work of course. There was only one thing that might work and that wasn't possible. Still she was frustrated and grabbed the letter Lewis had found and read through it. Words, so many words, talking about a huge secret, but she didn't quite see the meaning. So there had been a secret. She placed it down on the table again and decided to wait for one of the others to come to a decision.

"He was great music. I listened to many songs while I searched." She smiled at them and then looked at the newspaper again. "It looks, as if he had too much time." She finally stated, unable to see any sense behind the dots.

@Eluvianii @Hope Spren

Edited November 3, 2019 by Sorana

[I think I am here. he/him]

14 minutes ago, Sorana said:

"He was great music. I listened to many songs while I searched." She smiled at them and then looked at the newspaper again. "It looks, as if he had too much time." She finally stated, unable to see any sense behind the dots.

Marcel smiled at the mention of music. It reminded him of the disco, how this whole situation had come together. Taking out a pencil from his pocket he walked over to the box and picked up a small slip of paper, giving it to Wita. It was a paycheck, printed seemingly from one of those new printers Marcel knew nothing about.

“It came in the same box as the blueprints,” he said, gesturing to the blue sheets on the table along with the newspaper. Or were those architectural plans? Marcel had no idea, which was why he was asking help. And Wita had already proven to be smart when it counted, and he hoped that a more technical set of clues would be easier rather for her to solve, because Marcel certainly had no ideas.

[Eluvianii he/him]

Marcel had pulled out yet more clues, the man that lived here sure wasn't careful, but Lewis was still curious about the newspaper so he took it to have a better look.

They were right, there were dots only in parts with text. Not only that but each dot was exactly in the position of a letter. He tried following them. W -  H - E - N - T - H - E - S ---

"When the sun kisses the horizon, the time to open the portal has come." he read slowly almost whispering.

Edited November 3, 2019 by Eluvianii
I was mixing characters

[+Sorana she/her]

Wita slowly leaned over to the blue prints, looked at them. She took them into her hands, tried to understand their meaning, and knew at the same time, that like this she had no chance to do so. Marcel had asked her to, he needed help and she wanted to help. He had offered to teach her and she wanted to, wanted to stay with him, to be his apprentice or whatever. She wanted to learn how to carve the stamps and she wanted to understand her own magic. She had yet to ask him about the first part, but he would never agree if he thought her stupid, if he believed that she wasn't able to understand.

Wita inhaled deeply, loosened her shoulders and then she gradually stopped to store. There were no red lights, no flickering reflections on the wall and so for now she was fine, she only needed to avoid, her hand accidently crumbled the slip of paper and the forced herself to concentrate on the blueprints. Architectural plans she realized. A tower, judging the meassurements, but the left he outside away, only focused on the inside. It made it harder to recognize, which was probably the reason why they had decided to draw these incomplete plans. Her eyes swept over drawing after drawing, but she couldn't quiet place it. The letters, the inscriptions were in some kind of code, the rest were rectangular rooms, but as long as she didn't even know if the meassurements indicated the size of the whole building, or only of this part - it could have been any tower. Or even a tall building and the tower like structure was at its center. Swallowing she looked up, at Marcel, at Ryan and then spread the blue prints on the table in front of her, made sure she could see all of them. No hint at the building, only at these few rooms, but here she had exits, she had doors, she had a room that was at the top and it was empty, apart from a strange mark in it's middle. She had no way to figure this out. not like this.

She tapped mental speed.

It was a strange feeling, and she spend the first seconds feeling as if she had been thrown on a trail and was sitting on its top while it moved at top speed. She felt too slow to keep up, until she realized that she was keeping up, she was only holding herself back, because she was used to thinking about everything for a long, long time. Memories, they tugged at her, called for attention, but instead she stared at the blueprints, looked at the code and then tapped again.

"A cellar." She started to speak, her voice fast and agitated, rushed when she formed the words for the other two to remember, because she wasn't sure how long she could keep this up, how long she could concentrate enough to avoid the red danger waiting for her. "Secret rooms, deep down in the earth." Her hand tapped on the plan of the empty room. "That one is at the top." she sorted the plans again. "An elevator - of course." She tipped at a part of one of the rooms in the ground. Her eyes rushed over the meassurements and she realized that she was breathing hard, as if she had been running for miles. Looking up her eyes were wide, when she took the room in again, the things they had found. The postcard. "Big Ben." She snatched it and placed it on top of the blueprints, then remembered the newspaper, the message. Sun, the sun. Why the sun. The room on top. She lifted the postcard stared at it, then circled a part on top of the tower. "there." she said absently minded and shuddered when the sun, the red sunlight led to screams, led to pain and fear and she stumbled away from the table her body reacting too slow, too lazy. She had to be fast, quick, the slip of paper he had given to her, flames burning her skin and the screams, so many screams.

Wita pressed a hand to her face and shook her head, shook it again. "Fire." she whispered, tears running down her face, "Flames everywhere. No way out." She continued to move away from the table as if to flee from the situation, to get away. "Trapped without air, and then she was there and I could breathe." And she had lifted her out of window, had followed her. "The roof." had given in and had crushed her. "The screams." They were everywhere and they were loud, so loud that they drowned everything else and she only vaguely registered that she was screaming as well, echoing the screams in her head.

@I think I am here.

[I think I am here. he/him]

5 hours ago, Sorana said:

Wita pressed a hand to her face and shook her head, shook it again. "Fire." she whispered, tears running down her face, "Flames everywhere. No way out." She continued to move away from the table as if to flee from the situation, to get away. "Trapped without air, and then she was there and I could breathe." And she had lifted her out of window, had followed her. "The roof." had given in and had crushed her. "The screams." They were everywhere and they were loud, so loud that they drowned everything else and she only vaguely registered that she was screaming as well, echoing the screams in her head.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Marcel, said as soon as Wita began to cry. Gently he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, tried to keep her still and steady. She seemed to be in her own world. Of flames, and death. Had she stopped storing zinc? She must have, to deduce all of that information from the blueprints. The Big Ben. The place she had circled. When the sun kisses the horizon.

But Marcel pushed those thoughts aside, kept to the priorities. He had never had a way with children, but trying was better than her screaming like she had done the previous time.

“There’s no fire,” he said quietly. “No screams, just us. You did good, you did good.”

[+Sorana she/her]

3 hours ago, I think I am here. said:

“Hey, hey, hey,” Marcel, said as soon as Wita began to cry. Gently he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, tried to keep her still and steady. She seemed to be in her own world. Of flames, and death. Had she stopped storing zinc? She must have, to deduce all of that information from the blueprints. The Big Ben. The place she had circled. When the sun kisses the horizon.

But Marcel pushed those thoughts aside, kept to the priorities. He had never had a way with children, but trying was better than her screaming like she had done the previous time.

“There’s no fire,” he said quietly. “No screams, just us. You did good, you did good.”

She felt the arm around her shoulder, listened to the voice talking to her, it was quiet, calming. Shivvering she moved closer tried to get away from the flames scorching her skin, tried to find a place to hide. Her mother was screaming for her to run away, then her screams changed, until the were full of pain and desperation. The screams. Wita lifted a hand to cover her ears, but they didn't stop. They were still there clinging to her, just like the voice did. There's no fire. The voice said and she wrapped her mind around the thought, followed it to the wall, to the arm holding her close. She stopped screaming, found the strength to stop tapping and closed her eyes. Sobbing she burried her face against the man's chest. There was no fire. No screams. She repeated it again and again in her head. Just them.

Gradually she relaxed a little, when the memories subsided and left her weak and shaking behind.

Edited November 3, 2019 by Sorana

[I think I am here. he/him]

23 hours ago, Sorana said:

Gradually she relaxed a little, when the memories subsided and left her weak and shaking behind.

Marcel continued his words as Wita moved closer. When she buried her face in his chest Marcel continued, trying to comfort her, hesitating before resting his arms around her in a loose hug. Poor kid. No kid needed something like that, a trauma like that. But, in this world power rarely came through any other means.

As she began to relax, Marcel tightened his hug, sighing out in relief. He stayed still to give her time.

“It’s alright,” he said quietly. “There’s no need for you to go that place again. We’ve got what we need.” And even if they hadn’t - Marcel didn’t want Wita to feel the way she’d felt now again. Not now, not ever. Even if it meant a little less help solving this mystery.

[AonEne he/him]

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This is adorable. 

 

[+Sorana she/her]

6 hours ago, I think I am here. said:

“It’s alright,” he said quietly. “There’s no need for you to go that place again. We’ve got what we need.” And even if they hadn’t - Marcel didn’t want Wita to feel the way she’d felt now again. Not now, not ever. Even if it meant a little less help solving this mystery.

She relaxed further when he tightened his arms around her, kept her eyes closed and gave in to the situation, the hug. He didn't ask for something, he didn't expect anything. And even more important, he didn't dismiss her. Without moving she stayed like that, the terror slowly subsiding, leaving her alone. The air was cool, not scorching hot and it was quiet. No screams, only his voice, telling her that is was alright. They had everything. She tried to remember, but her words, her conclusions were muddled by the fear and while she suspected, that she could remember, she didn't push herself. There was no need to, Marcel had listened. Wita shuddered slightly when she remembered, the fear, the pain, death staring into her eyes but then it subsided and surprisingly stayed away. She took a deep breath and then another one, a stale taste in her mouth like a last reminder. Her arms closed around him in response to his hug and she held on to him tightly, grateful that he was here, that he hadn't taken the information and left.

Slowly she moved a little away from him, looked into his face, into his eyes. At least one eye was red beneath his lenses, but it was secondary. He was a good man, and he took her seriously. Wita hesitated for a moment, surprised by the calm in her mind, by the fact that she could stand here, just like that. And then she jumped, grabbed the moment and started to speak while she could think, while she could really understand his answer.

"I'd like to be your apprentice." She told him calmly. "I know that usually I am slow, and I don't know if that will ever change. But I can learn, I only need some time. I am a good cook and I could take over other chores to pay you back." She continued to look at him earnestly without that stupid laugh she so often bore and without the wide eyes she'd shown while tapping. For once she was as close to herself, as she had been in years. "I want to be more than just a stupid cook. I want to do something usefull, I want to learn."

Edited November 4, 2019 by Sorana

[I think I am here. he/him]

18 hours ago, Sorana said:

"I'd like to be your apprentice." She told him calmly. "I know that usually I am slow, and I don't know if that will ever change. But I can learn, I only need some time. I am a good cook and I could take over other chores to pay you back." She continued to look at him earnestly without that stupid laugh she so often bore and without the wide eyes she'd shown while tapping. For once she was as close to herself, as she had been in years. "I want to be more than just a stupid cook. I want to do something usefull, I want to learn."

Marcel stayed as she tightened his hug, looking to her when he stepped back. He took a while to comprehend what she said next. She wanted to be his apprentice. And she meant it honestly, not a throwaway line like when she usually stored, or something when she was tapping Zinc. It was almost odd to see such a different behaviour, but it lent strength to her words.

“I...” Marcel fumbled with what to say next.

“An apprentice? But I am no teacher, I’m not qualified. Maybe Silverlight University is enrolling students, maybe there, but that’s all over the other side of the world. But, me? I, I am just a normal person, Wita.” He looked at her finally. He hadn’t said no, because the idea of some company on his ventures was alluring. But fact often clashed with his wants.

“And,” he shook his head. “If you were, then things like this would happen again,” he gestured around, to the air. Even if all else worked, the fact would be she would inevitably have to tap or stop storing again. One day. And he dreaded that. But still, an apprentice. The thought hung in the air, like a hopeful light in a dark subway tunnel.