Session 9 - Visions of the Future

Previously, across the Horizon… Yves got rid of an important item. Isa acquired an important item. Orrey altered an important item. Linnet purchased an important item. Bast stole an important item (probably. we’ll see.) The memorial auction for Sindarius Valles ended without the full auction slate and, it turns out, the deceased. The Zomberry Formerly Known as Sindarius has been sent off to Caerlon with Kelsey T. Arendall and his well-armored companion Alitheia. The powers of academia were unleashed in an all-night translation session, in order to find a possible cure for a Sylph-specific wasting disease. A mask got real friendly with Yves.
…
“Alright,” says Isa, as more coffee is distributed. “Way I see it there are three things that need to be said. One: auction’s over and it looks like goals were achieved to an acceptable extent.” Sip. “Two: Someone burgled the Valles estate before the auction, and they are not going to be happy about that. I’m a little surprised the search hasn’t gone door-to-door yet. Maybe they’re still trying to keep it quiet.” Sip. "Three. We have nowhere in the city to sleep, and the staff here is getting real tired of us taking up this booth.
“All this combines to tell me it is past time to be on our way elsewhere. So, where?”
Yves, who continues to look perkier than anyone who has done a relentless academic all-nighter should, raises a hand. “I believe that stealing that airship is the most ethical and-slash-or moral thing we can do right now.”
Orrey eyes the bunny with a hint of confusion. “Where did you learn about morals and ethics?”
Bast leans back, sipping at his coffee, keeping Yves in view. He shakes his head ruefully at his latest comment. “You know, I suspect the people on the street haven’t heard you yet. Might want to repeat this plan of yours louder for their benefit. I’m starting to fear for my reputation, here.”
“Right,” Isa acknowledges. “Let’s refer to that as Tantalus for now, and be more discreet with the details.”
Yves lowers his voice accordingly, one ear twitching halfway up and then back down. “…so, uh, if we want to… visit Tantalus, then that lets us do anything /else/ that needs to get done more efficiently, while also storing our stuff somewhere, which means we’re high on productivity, low on delay, get bonuses at the end of the quarter, that sort of thing. Stands to reason. Right? And if we mean to do ethical and-or moral things, not /really/ sure what the difference is between the two categories, letting us do them better and faster is itself good and-or moral. Q. E. D.”
Ingrid, still here (perhaps inexplicably), stirs a little more cream into her coffee, giving Yves a dubious look, and not giving Bast one even though he seems rather adept at this sort of thing.
Linnet has been following the conversation, but she’s still trying to parse Yves’ line of ethics and is thus waiting to contribute.
Isa says, “So the Tantalus question is one of competing interests. At least two, maybe three if we decide to take our own route with it. But first we’d have to get it.”
“Well.” Bast takes another sip. “I’m not saying I’m objecting in principle, but we’re a little short on details here. For instance, why has Saron taken an official interest? Anyone?”
“No idea,” Isa says.
“I don’t see why Saron would take an interest in anything outside of its own borders right now,” Ingrid says confidently. “If they have taken an interest, I think that means it’s relevant to what’s happening between the Avengers and the Hallowed there.”
“Which is…” Bast prods.
“No one really has the details,” Orrey says.
“…something related to Orrey’s messages in books, which…do I need to deliver them somewhere? Or keep them on me? What was the plan after you, uh, embellished them?” Linnet asks.
Yves, who has possibly skipped a mandatory history and/or current events class in his time, looks a little blank.
“Do we at least know who’s running things right now, and might strenuously object?” Bast presses.
“It’s complicated,” Ingrid allows.
Linnet sighs. “…so, no.”
“Right now, there’s no one person in charge,” Ingrid says. “When the last Consul passed away, they did so without naming a successor. The manner in which they passed — a completed Memoria, and one with zero plans for anyone else to continue their work — has sparked a huge debate between those two camps. There is something suspicious there, and the nature of that event is the focal point of the tension. I don’t know what that would have to do with planting secret messages in books two countries away.”
“…that sounds like poor planning on their part, which does not necessarily justify an emergency on our part…” Linnet realizes she’s musing aloud and stuffs a forkful of salad in her mouth to shut herself up.
“Which may have been perpetrated by the Avengers, though now I’m starting to think it might be a third party with other more nefarious intentions.” Orrey thoughtfully examines some notes and pictures in his notebooks as he works through the past few months.
“And this is relevant to Tantalus…how?” Isa asks.
“What I’m trying to figure out is who might have the authority to be ordering the…Coda…around, in a mess like that, and why. Unless we just happened to run into a freelancer. Or an impersonator, who knows.” Bast taps his chin thoughtfully. “Think whatever ‘Truth’ the old man was going on about has something to do with Saron?”
“Or, they don’t have any jurisdiction, and are attempting to muscle in,” Isa considers.
Bast nods. “Could be. Still doesn’t answer why this is important to them.”
“Correct.” Isa sniffs. “Also, I don’t care.”
“I mean, we should probably care insofar as they deploy muscles /at/ us.” “…like, in the ‘flinging sharp bits of metal’ sense, not so much if they’re just flinging….” Yves makes a vague hand gesture that might indicate a chunk of steak landing hard.
Bast’s shoulders twitch up slightly. “Can’t say I’m too interested in the abstract sense. But if we’re going for something they want, I doubt they’ll just let it slide. Would help to at least understand the risk we’re inviting from that direction.”
Isa shrugs. “There’s an asset that has a large chance of putting us dead between several factions who want it, for unknown reasons, with unknown means of making their play for it. But there’s a good chance the asset itself is enough to even the odds. Again, we won’t know until we see it. And if it’s not worth holding on to we have at least one bid on offer.”
Linnet looks across the table. “Bast, did you remember to get your toolbox back?”
He kicks it lightly under the table, something rattling inside. “All good.”
Linnet pokes distractedly at her salad while poring at a page of Padjal’s White Magery. It’s somewhat less fascinating than it looks.
“We don’t really have to call it Tantalus /later/, though, right? Because that feels like it would be inviting bad luck.”
“We’d rename it something more politically neutral,” Isa says.
Ingrid smiles slightly. “If you do go with Project Tantalus — and please don’t take this as an opinion on what you should do, it’s not intended as one — I will be heading back to Saron. That’s taking me a little too far afield in figuring out the visions.”
“You really want to go grab an air…uh, Tantalus, that some random guy on a train acting insanely tried to give to us? Seemed like he was being pursued by the authorities. I’m not sure I want to join him in that,” Orrey says.
“Well, it makes more sense than trying to grab a train,” Yves shrugs.
“Happy to hear alternatives.” Isa says to Orrey, eyes flicking to Ingrid briefly.
Linnet glances in the direction of her personal inventory. “I mean, if we have the key, doesn’t that lead to possession being nine-tenths of the law or something?”
Bast seems caught a bit off-guard by Ingrid’s remark. “There’s something I wanted to talk about. With you. If you’ll need to go, I get it, but I hope you’re not in too much of a rush yet.”
To Bast, Ingrid gives an apologetic smile. “Of course, I’d love to. I’ve been here for about five days now, and while I have enjoyed the vacation, I can’t be away from home forever.” To Orrey, she says, “Why don’t you come back with me? If you don’t want to go chasing off after clouds in the sky, you could head back home and get to work on helping your family.”
Orrey shrugs. “I don’t have another ship handy or anything. But the trains run smoothly, if slowly.” He turns to Ingrid and says “I’d love to return home, but I’m starting to feel like what I’m doing for those people isn’t getting me any closer to helping my folks. I might need to approach things differently.”
The smile is sympathetic and encouraging. “I hope it works out.”
Isa considers. “Any ideas on that front?”
“Is dangling a rope ladder from an airship and cutting a hole in a roof a good idea? …hypothetically speaking,” Yves adds.
Linnet thinks. “Isn’t the roof of an airship part of the bag holding it up? In that case, no.”
“Have you ever seen a Dragoon wing make a drop, Yves? Ropes are for amateurs,” Isa says.
“I meant whatever the airship was dangling over, but…” Yves blinks, and leans in. “Without a rope, don’t they sort of… land hard?”
“Point-first.”
“Yes, but then you’re falling on your weapon, and in the stories that’s usually where a character arc stops.”
Isa squints. “Never mind.”
“Right. Can someone remind me where we were theoretically supposed to meet this ship? In some sense of the word ‘meet’?” Linnet flops the book closed and runs frustrated hands through her hair. She might need a nap. {Actually, she might just need something to do other than read.}
“Laurent’s tomb,” Isa says.
“Which is…where? And where can we stop along the way and accomplish something for someone? All respect to the wonderful people of Caerwyn, but I am tired of sleeping in a cafe booth,” Linnet groans.
“Yeah, it’s like being an undergrad again, after my bed got stolen,” Yves helpfully adds.
“Most civilized cities have inns,” Isa grumbles. “We should go to one of them.”
Yves says under his breath, “Most civilized cities haven’t banned me, either.”
Linnet, undeterred, “So we’ll skip the ones that have.”
“For the sake of disclosure, I need to avoid Cardia for a bit. Politics,” is all Isa offers for explanation.
“Right, that’s useful information,” Linnet says. “At some point I need to make a stop back home in Caelonde, but I’m not sure if I should do so with the altered books or after the consequences form the altered books have fallen out. I sent the Director a brief update, but it hasn’t been long enough for her to get back to me.”
Yves eyes Isa sidelong. “Possibly we should compile a list of all the cities any of us should definitely not visit, just to plot routes more efficiently.”
Isa nods. “Good point. Anyone else exiled, banned, or otherwise avoiding a place?”
Linnet looks briefly uncomfortable. “Apart from one particular library, no.”
Orrey looks around, curiously. “No? Possibly just here.”
“There are a few places I’d want to be careful, but nowhere I’m in actual legal trouble as such.” Yves stops. “Aside from here, I guess? I don’t know. The legalities of getting estate-banned are still a little unclear to me.”
Isa chuckles. “I think we can all agree that we’re not likely to be coming back here anytime soon.”
Yves makes a gesture of profound thanks that was archaic back when his grandmother used it.
“Staying away from the Triad for the foreseeable future. Apart from that, no.”
“How far away from here is Mount Atma?” Linnet realizes she’s still carrying a map and unrolls it on the table, shoving a salad plate and several mugs of coffee to the sides.
Bast shoots Linnet a curious look. “Any relation to the book?”
“…maybe? I just remember that’s where all the kings and queens are buried. So that does seem like the kind of thing to write a book about.”
“Wait, are we…” Yves lowers his voice some more. “Are we grave-robbing? Because I, uh, I’m not real sure how to fit this into my whole nascent ethical framework, here. Not coming out against it as such, just saying.”
Isa shakes her head. “No reason to believe that it’s entombed, that was just the location we were given.”
“Oh. That’s okay, then.”
“Liberating artefacts from the tombs of kings is common practice in archaeology,” Orrey explains, “and besides, some of us didn’t have trouble with…uh…liberating objects from their locations elsewhere. But I guess you missed that part.”
“And I’ll be thankful to remain ignorant,” Isa replies.
“I don’t know if robbing the dead is better or worse than robbing the untimely living, so I’m going to not think about it,” Yves says calmly.
“OKAY TIME TO CHANGE THE SUBJECT NOW.” Linnet’s face is almost as red as her hair.
Orrey works up the nerve. “Isa, you asked earlier about thoughts about my situation in Saron. I was wondering if you would be available for hire. Sort of like you did with Linnet?”
Isa raises an eyebrow. “Yes, broadly. Rates depend on what you need doing.”
“Would you work in trade? I don’t have a lot of cash at hand, but I’ve got some skills that I’d happily lend to whatever end you’d need them for.”
Isa nods. “You’re good for it. What do you have in mind?”
“That’s where I run into problems. I just don’t know that much about my…uh…bosses? Yeah we’ll go with that.”
“The Avengers?” Ingrid helpfully supplies.
“Or whoever is saying that they’re the Avengers.”
Isa rests her elbows on the table. “Alright, let’s start from the beginning. You’re in trouble.” It’s not a question.
Orrey nods. “Well, my father is.”
Isa nods with grim empathy. “Families. And everything you’ve been doing has been useless so far.”
“Short version: he was in debt and unable to get enough printing jobs to keep his printing press open. Some of the Hallowed approached him to publish something, something that apparently inflamed the Avengers enough for them to break in, steal the pamphlet or whatever it was, and kidnap him to keep him from spreading whatever he knew about it. When we found out what had happened, I confronted one of them, and they put me to work in exchange for his eventual release.”
“Eventual’s a real flexible word.”
“Which is why if I can, I want to end the cycle. But I don’t know how to do that right now. Maybe with your help I can figure that out. So if you want to steal a Tantalus, I’m happy to help…”
“Yay, mayhem!” Linnet chirps.
“Saron’s the last rail stop before Alterna, so if you’re up for it…” Isa ventures.
Bast drains what’s left of his coffee and emphatically sets the cup down on the table, looking rather pained at Linnet’s reaction.
“…sorry, Bast. Salad?”
“Is ‘salad’ our code word for mayhem now?” Yves asks.
“Salad is my current code word for my, uh, brunch, but I’m down,” Linnet says.
“Not hungry just yet, thanks,” Bast says.
Isa holds up a hand to Yves and Linnet riffing, and looks at Orrey. “No euphemisms; if you want me to help you sort this out, I will. But that means you’re alright if there’s not a peaceful resolution.”
Orrey takes a breath and meets Isa’s eyes. “I just want this to be over. If I could manage a peaceful resolution, it would have happened by now. And maybe you could show me how to use…?” Orrey vaguely slashes at the air with a breadstick.
“Not with that one, it’s not nearly stale enough to hold together. You’d have better success with a fork,” Linnet points out.
Isa nods, and leans back in her chair, picking up her coffee. “Alright then. Saron it is. Anyone have a timetable for the train?”
“They’re posted outside,” Ingrid says.
“Ingrid, have you ever seen any of us in your visions? Or anyone else you’ve known?” Orrey asks.
“Any of you?” Ingrid shakes her head. “No, I haven—” She falters, right hand going to her head, left suddenly gripping the edge of the table.
Yves twitches, and makes a sort of uncertainly helpful gesture her way. “…coffee…?”
Ingrid blinks, twice, mouth screwing up in a painful grimace.
Bast leans over in her direction, looking concerned and wary. “You okay?”
Ingrid looks at Bast, no sight in her blue eyes, color draining from her face. “I don’t… god, why does it hurt this time…?” She goes to scoot to the side to get up, but the motion leaves her reeling, and she squeezes her eyes shut with a gasp of pain.
Yves bounces to his feet. “I’ll get you some cold water,” he says.
Orrey’s eyes go wide as he looks on helplessly.
Water is easy to come by. Ingrid carefully puts her head down, an occasional sound of discomfort coming from her.
Yves hurries back with cold water, and a bar towel for dipping into it as needed, on the principle that a vision might be like a fever. Or like a hangover. Probably somewhere in that range.
Bast moves to sit by Ingrid, looking only slightly less concerned now that it looks like she won’t hurt herself. “…another one?” He reaches into his bag with one hand, seemingly squeezing something in there.
Ingrid suddenly snaps her head up, unfocused eyes scanning around the room, jerking her head about, until she is staring into the eyes of—
—of the fractured mask that has somehow freed itself from Yves’s bag, again.
Yves follows that look, and blinks. “…I don’t know how this keeps getting out,” he says, reaching to grab it and stuff it right back where it was.
The mask swings up into the air, vertical, tipping to the left, then to the right, then all the way upside down, quizzically.
“…that…. might be how,” Yves finishes, perplexed.
A greenish light shimmers down past it, an outline shining for an instant, in time with a sensation Bast feels echoing in his hand.
“Hey!” Isa says, pointing threateningly at the mask. “Knock it off.”
“Back in the bag,” Yves hisses at the mask, holding his satchel open. “You’re going to get us thrown out of /this/ place too.”
“…to be fair, I’m pretty certain the mask wasn’t involved in our previous throwing-out…” Linnet is half-frozen with her arm on Ingrid’s shoulder and a very wary expression on her face.
The mask tips up at Isa, and then shudders at her — almost as if it’s sniffing in disapproval.
Bast is gripping the table with both hands now, tense, watching the mask as it shifts around in mid-air.
The mask leans in closer to Ingrid, its sockets locked on her, and then the shattered ruby gleams with a sudden light, echoing the light shining from Bast’s bag, and—
Yves suddenly lunges forward, clumsily, to grab a mask.
Yves misses, forearms clunking hard against the table, and finds himself staring into the face of a shimmering, disapproving green rabbit. The rabbit, about eighteen inches long, regards Yves blankly, and then the ruby gem in its forehead — the rabbit has a large ruby embedded into its forehead — shines brightly. It tips its head to the side and then turns its attention back to Ingrid, long ears bobbing up and down. It then hops to Bast, gives him the most plaintive look you’ve ever seen an animal give anyone… and then its outline wavers, like a mirage in the blistering sun.
“…okay, so, maybe you don’t need to go into the bag,” Yves finishes lamely.
Bast sighs and digs into his bag again, pulling out something inside his fist. He rests his hand on the table in front of him, looking at the rabbit.
The rabbit hops, turns around, and then gently bumps its forehead against Ingrid’s.
And then with a final shimmer… the rabbit is gone, as if it was never there. Just an empty mask, resting face down on the table, rocking back and forth.
Linnet is the first to find her voice. “…what just happened?”
Bast looks over at Ingrid, concerned.
Ingrid blinks, her blue eyes not clouded over anymore. Her breathing is rapid and shallow, goosebumps up on her arms and the back of her neck.
Yves picks up the mask, and stares at it.
“Are you…okay? Was that another vision?” Bast ventures.
“…are they usually projected so everyone else can see them too?” Linnet asks. “And I assume they’re not usually adorable.”
“I saw it,” Ingrid says. Her voice is shaky. “I saw it, and others like it. Chained. Chained, like the clock. Chained, to the ground and to the sky.”
Bast, looking baffled, mutters “…like the clock?” under his breath.
“I saw her,” she says, pointing at the mask. “And she saw me, and… and she took me away. She took me out of there. I have to find the others.”
“Do you have any idea if that’s metaphorical or literal? The, uh, chained rabbits,” Yves asks.
She doesn’t quite know what to do about Yves, so she doesn’t. Instead, all of her attention is back on Bast. “Where did you get that crystal? It’s never done that before. It’s never been like that before.”
“That’s…a story. But I think it’s from Alterna.” He looks around, making sure no one else is close enough to observe, before he opens his hand and shows the red crystal to her and the rest of the company.
There is indeed a small red crystal in Bast’s hand. Small, sparkly. A beautiful little ruby.
“…so, aim for Alterna and keep our eyes peeled for a chained clock and imprisoned crystal bunnies?” Linnet says.
Orrey finishes up transcribing everything Ingrid has said, and a sketch of the ru-bunny. “Chained to the ground and the sky? Connected to the crystal here on the ground, and to the stars in the sky, maybe? Except now they’re breaking free. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Or just a thing that’s happening that’s not for us to judge…”
“I’m generally in favor of unchaining things. I think,” Yves says.
“It depends on why they were chained in the first place. A murderer should not be allowed to walk the streets as a free person,” Orrey declares.
“Sure. I mean, not unless they had a really good reason for it.”
“The crystal bunnies wouldn’t murder anyone!” Linnet interjects. “And if they did, they totally deserved it. Like cruelty to animals. That’d be justified.”
Bast, disregarding the chatter around the table, looks at Ingrid. “What I told you earlier wasn’t entirely true. There is a friend I’m looking for. But the vision? That was me, the day I found this…thing. And you’re the first one I found who knew anything about this.”
Yves blinks at Bast. Huh. Visions all around.
Ingrid’s eyes are very, very wide. “You saw it too?”
“I think we all did,” Orrey says.
“The clock, the chains. The breaking. The-” Bast breaks off, grimacing, then finishes his thought. “-the pull.”
“What does it mean?” comes out in a whisper.
The breath Bast was drawing leaves in a rueful chuckle. “I…was hoping you might have a better idea.”
“None of the gods had an answer,” she says sadly. “I went to all eleven cities in Machanon.”
“There’s one more god to check in with,” Orrey says.
“It seems like the book – ATMA – was related to this. And so’s the mask. Rabbit?” Bast shakes his head, as if to clear it. Orrey’s comment catches what’s left of his attention. “What do you mean?”
“The Forgotten. The city that no one can find. Or at least, not many can find.”
“So we need to find that,” Yves says.
“Might be easier to spot in an airship?” Orrey aks.
Yves nods knowingly to Orrey.
“How do you find what was Forgotten?” Ingrid asks.
“Well, not in a library, if it’s been written down it hasn’t been forgotten yet. So…sounds like blind luck and breadcrumb trails, but I’m coming at this from a very narrow viewpoint, I realize.” Linnet steeples her fingers. “We know where Alterna is, though, right?”
Bast glances at Linnet. “Would your map be of any use here? I don’t know much about the Forgotten, but if it’s a real place and has been lost as long as they say…”
Linnet gestures to the table, where the map is now held at the corners by three coffee mugs and a salt shaker. “Be my guest.”
Bast peers at the map, which is mostly upside-down from his perspective, not seeming to find much use in what he sees.
“If you got that crystal from Alterna…” Ingrid is still shaky. “You need to go to Alterna. Which means Saron.”
“Which means back on the train? Fortunately, we’re very close. Pretty hard to get lost in this area,” Linnet says.
Orrey pulls out a small silver chain he wears around his neck, revealing a tiny blank-covered book pendant. “Much of what has been Forgotten merely needs to be found and brought back to the world.”
Isa stands up. “I’ll go grab a time table. Get your kit together; we’re on the next outbound train to Saron.”