The smell of popcorn and fried foods found him first, followed quickly by the sound of laughter and shrieks. Avery hadn’t been intending to head to the local fair today, he’d forgotten all about it but there was something so alluring about the greasy food and attractions that he found his day’s plan changing drastically. He loved fairs and carnivals, though they were few and far between in his city. It was difficult for them to travel here but they offered a welcome distraction whenever they could make it.
Avery bought a small bag of popcorn for himself almost as soon as he walked in, the oil on his fingers and taste of butter on his tongue waking a memory he’d never forget. He’d been six when the first fair had come to the city and he’d almost not been able to go. It was on the very last day when his cold had let up enough that his father agreed to take him for just a few hours. They’d shared a bag of popcorn and walked through almost every tent together. After a lunch of something fried that was mostly delicious in theory rather than execution they’d been separated by Avery’s wandering feet.
He’d hopped off the picnic bench his father had left him at and made his way into a small tent that they’d somehow missed beforehand. It was lit mostly by little strings of fairy lights and a couple of candles, the fabric so dark it looked a little like the night sky. Sitting in the middle of it all was a table and a veiled figure. Their face was too obscured for Avery to really see it and for a moment he was afraid of the stranger, glancing back to see if he could find his father through the tent flap.
“Come closer little one, and I’ll tell you your future.”
The voice was soft, almost a whisper but it reached his ears perfectly despite the shouts outside. He hesitated for only a moment, his little feet carrying him closer to the table, curiosity peaked now. They didn’t sound like a bad person and he wanted to know the future. His side of the table had a small stool, one that he managed to pull himself up onto with only a little trouble, sitting on his knees so that he could reach the table properly. Beneath the hem of the veil he could see the smile on the fortune tellers lips, their hands already placing bits of paper on the table, smoothing fingers over them to make sure they laid flat.
Avery couldn’t stop watching, though the paper made him a little nervous. Even as a child he knew that paper itself wasn’t evil but the magic that could be done with it certainly was. He swallowed, his eyes going wide when the fortune teller stopped, hands hovering above the table now, far enough up there was no risk of bumping the table or anything of the sort. Squirming in his seat Avery was less scared than he was excited to see what would happen next. He’d forgotten for the moment about his father, who’d surely found him to be missing now. Avery wanted to know the future.
“Pick a piece” The instruction seemed peculiar to him, and he’d frowned at the table for a few moments, until the fortune teller nodded, encouraging him. He didn’t think about it, he just reached out and tapped one of the papers. They were all the same size and colour, he couldn’t see how this would tell him anything about his future.
Almost as soon as he tapped it, the paper started to move. It folded in on itself, flipping about on the table, full of a life it should not have. Avery had been taught time and time again that papermancy was illegal and that he should fear it but as he watched the paper turn itself into a little crane, he found himself fascinated. He leaned closer, mouth open in surprise and wonder. The fortune teller chuckled from their place across the table, waving their hands over the remainder of the papers, causing them to move as well. The little crane danced about, getting closer and closer to Avery until it was almost on one of his hands. This magic didn’t seem dangerous, it was enchanting.
There was a thud behind Avery, one that almost made him fall off of his stool, followed by shouting he couldn’t quite understand, save for his name. His father had found him, panic clear on his face. He’d turned to shout out at the crowd, a flurry of activity both within and outside of the tent leaving Avery confused. The fortune teller stood and sent their paperflying about, causing a distraction as Avery’s father pulled him from the heart of it back out to the carnival’s walkway. No one was leisurely walking about anymore, there was only shouting and running as inkmages made their way to the unassuming tent. Avery didn’t see what happened next, his father carried him to the safety of their home.
He’d gotten in trouble for the stunt, for both running away from his father but also for sitting with the stranger. Papermancers were dangerous and could not be trusted. Even now, more than a decade later Avery wasn’t sure what had happened to the papermancer he’d met that day. The only thing he was sure of, was that he would have been in far more trouble if his father had known about what the boy had hidden in his pocket. The little crane had been a bit crushed when he pulled it from his pocket and hid it under his bed that night. He wasn’t sure why he took it, but it had seemed like the right thing to do, just like keeping it secret.
Even now he still had the small token, though the paper had long since gone soft, the folds and creases not as firm as they had once been. He could feel the shape of it against his leg, hidden deep within his pocket as he walked the temporary pathways created by this particular fair. He knew the tent he was searching for would not be there, that the papermancer would never risk returning here, if they'd even managed to escape but still he couldn't help but wonder.
The fair was a little larger than he’d anticipated, by the time he reached the heart of it he’d finished his popcorn and was debating if he wanted to risk another carnival treat or if it was time to go home. He’d not planned to be here today, he had chores he’d come out to do but they were long forgotten to the thrill of the fair. At the core of the set up there were the largest tents, a few sporting signs for exotic animals and exciting performances. More people milled about here, bits and pieces of discussions reaching Avery's ears as he wandered past them. Nothing in particular caught his interest until the breeze changed and brought a new series of words to his ears.
“Step right up and have your future told by the mysterious art of paper.”
Avery couldn't find the speaker, though he made a few turns in the hopes that he might catch where the voice had come from.
“Can't really be a papermancer, or else there would be inkmages all over this place.”
Whomever the first speaker had been attempting to call over was clearly not interested, scoffing at the notion. They were right of course, if there was in fact a papermancer here there would also be inkmages here to arrest them but something had caught Avery's curiosity and he couldn't let it go. It worked its way out of his childhood memory and settled in his heart once again, making him look harder for the tent even if it meant going against the natural flow of traffic.
“Why don’t you come in and let us read your future?”
There was a taunting tone to the voice now, daring the non-believer to put their faith to the test. There was nothing more, the wind trapped between the crowd of bodies conversation lost. Frustrated Avery pushed himself out of the crowd entirely, finding a little space between two tents to stand in, trying to catch his breath. Now he was starting to doubt if he’d heard the conversation at all or if so many bits and pieces had come together to form words he wanted to hear. Even now, so many years after that last encounter, he wanted to meet that papermancer again, to ask them what his future had meant or if it had all just been a game. He stuck his hand in his pocket, fingers tracing the worn edges of the crane, trying to calm himself down. Had he really found what he’d been looking for he would have been walking into trouble, he should have been grateful to avoid that mess again.
“Hello good sir, would you like to have your future told?”
This time the voice didn’t need the winds to carry it, it came from just behind his shoulder, making Avery jump half out of his skin. He turned so quickly his feet got caught up with one another, making him stumble against a tent post as his eyes sought the source. A man not much older than himself looked as though he was struggling to hold back his laughter while he reached out to help steady Avery. He was dressed rather elaborately, his jacket crisp at the edges, the buttons on his cuffs shiney enough to wink even in the shadows. He looked a little like how Avery might have expected a ringmaster to look, though instead of red and gold, the fabric of his jacket looked as though it was decorated with the night sky. Silver chains jingled when he moved, draped from almost every place one might imagine and a few they might not. He looked very mysterious, the smile on his lips almost mischievous. There was no doubt in Avery’s mind that this man had been the one to call out with offers of future visions.
“Well? Would you like to know the path the future has in store for you?”
There was laughter in his words, as if he was still trying not to burst out in mirth over the very clumsy display. Avery could feel the heat of his embarrassment on his cheeks, burning at his neck and ears as well. Normally he would have excused himself to calm down somewhere out of sight but his curiosity had burst forth once more, taking control before he could think better of it.
“Yes please.”
“I must warn you, the mystic’s methods may shock and amaze you.” Everything about this young man created an atmosphere of wonder as he started to walk backwards towards a smaller tent that was nestled amongst the larger ones. Even with the slow pace Avery had been taking through the fairgrounds he would have likely missed it in the shadows. “But if you trust them, they will show you the way. Do not scream, for you might frighten your future down another path.”
He ended his statement with a flourish, pushing aside the tent flap to allow Avery entry. It was as if he’d walked straight into his memory, the little lights flickering overhead, the small table in the centre of the room. He couldn’t breathe, his body had stopped, unable to move forwards through this impossible scene. The only thing that told him this was new, this was now was the figure seated behind the table. They weren’t hidden by a veil, thick, dark curls running wild about their face, bits of shiny silver woven throughout. They looked a little like they were wearing the stars upon their head, arms bare save for thin bracelets and a fine gauzy shawl.
Unlike the mysterious stranger he’d met as a child, this fortune teller’s mystery was manufactured.
“Please, take a seat and let Fortuna Nova read your future.”
Avery did as he was told, sitting on this stool properly, taking one last glance about before he settled with his palms on the table. The man who’d led him here stood at the back of the tent like a guard though his expression was bored. He suspected that the set up involved finding the next patron as soon as he was done here. It wasn’t really the same as what he’d seen before but there was enough familiarity in the atmosphere of the place that his interest was held fast.
“The cards will tell you of the path you are to walk.”
This fortune teller’s voice was a bit husky but it wasn’t as low as the voice he remembered from his childhood, though the drama it called forth was the same. He stopped comparing the two situations very quickly, with a wave of this Fortuna Nova’s hand he was entranced, caught up in this moment now. The deck of cards that had been set upon the table before them leap into the air, free of any aid. They suspended themselves there for only a moment before they began to shuffle themselves, moving so quickly it was hard to follow them. They ended their display by splitting into three piles in front of Avery this time.
“Choose.”
Avery’s pocket felt heavy with the weight of his last choice, his hand too heavy with worry to lift at first. With a deep breath that he held in his chest for a moment, Avery eventually picked the pile to his far right, pulling his hand away quickly when all three piles flew back to Fortuna Nova’s side of the table. The pile he’d chosen ended up on top of the rest, barely gathering together before each card formed a pattern on the table, one by one. When a small handful of them had arranged themselves nicely on the table, they started to flip over one by one, revealing colourful art.
-
This was different from before, these were classic cards, depicting different aspects of the major arcana as they revealed themselves. Still there was a sense of wonder that hung in the air, drew him closer, left tension in his muscles as he watched the whole thing unfold with wide eyes. Avery hadn’t even looked at the person behind the table since the whole things had begun until they made a strange sound, reminding him they were in fact there. Fortuna Nova’s eyebrows were furrowed, lips just a little pursed in he dim light as they too watched the scene unfold. Their gaze darted back and forth as they read the story that was laid out for them, pausing every so often to murmur the card’s title to themselves.
“I sense a change coming.” There was something almost unstead about their tone when they began to speak but the more they spoke, the more that disappeared. “A big one, your whole life will never be the same. All because of a secret you harbour, one from your childhood.”
The words were generic, Avery could hear that but still he hung on every word, watching as fingers passed over the cards in question.
“A dangerous secret? I don’t understand.”
Avery could see how puzzled Fortuna Nova was now, their fingers tapping at the table as they read and reread the spread again. The whisper hadn’t been for Avery’s ears but he’d heard it, curiosity only highented by the notion that the fortune teller was confused. There was a peculiar kind of silence that hung between them, just waiting to snap at any moment with some kind of revelation.
“This might sound silly but does this help?” For the first time ever Avery pulled the crane from his pocket to show the fortune teller, placing it gently on the table. It was a secret he'd always kept, but there was nothing too damning about the item on its own, just in line with the story about it.
It sat there between the cards, edges worn from being unfolded and folded again gently, from when he wanted to see if perhaps there was a message on the inside. It looked a little sad, a few tears along raw edges, an old token that seemed out of place here. Fortuna Nova just stared at it for a few moments, fingers reaching out just a little, hovering a few inches away. It spring to life, balancing on its edge rather than laying flat on its side as gravity wanted for it to do. It wobbled for a moment, as if it wasn't quite sure what it wanted to do before it hopped forward twice and tipped onto its side properly. Avery hadn't seen it move since that day, his breath caught in his throat as he watched. He'd finally get the answers he was looking for.
“Patrin come here.” There was no mystery in the fortune teller’s voice, just urgency as they called for their partner at the tent opening. There was rustling from behind Avery before the young man made an appearance at his side, bending to peer at the table. From this angle Avery could see confusion on his face, though it was different from Fortuna Nova’s, more curious, less worried. He looked at the little crane on its side for a few moments before he looked back up at Fortuna Nova and shrugged.
“Leander, it’s a paper crane. You know how to fold those already.” He sounded almost bored but mostly confused about the significance of what he was looking at. Patrin was the voice to bring in their customers, he wasn’t the the mystic with the link to the future.
“It’s from Nebulous.” Fortuna Nova replied, their tone one of annoyance over the simple dismissal. Their statement got the reaction they’d wanted originally, the man whipped their head around to look at him, disbelief taking over the expression on his face. The fortune teller wasn’t smug about it, just relieved that the message they were trying to get across was understood. “Exactly.”
“How is that possible? He’s been gone for-”
Avery didn’t get to find out how long it had been since this Nebulous had last been seen. The tent flap had been ripped open rather loudly, making the fortune teller’s body stiffen for just a moment. The crane was flicked back across the table, landing in Avery’s lap with a gentle thump. His hand darted down to cover it up, sliding it back into his pocket as smoothly as he could. He had no idea what was happening right now but the change in atmosphere was enough to put him on edge.
“Mage, how can we help you?” Patrin sounded completely unaffected by the switch, his posture as relaxed as it could be as he turned to face the intruder.
“Sorry to interrupt folks but someone filed a papermancy complaint. I just gotta do a routine search for the books yeah? I know we checked you guys when you came in.” The inkmage that wandered in didn't seem to be in much of a hurry, coming up on Avery’s side before he could be seen. “Hey Avery, looking for a thrill?”
Elm had grown up with Avery, they'd always been in the same class. His leafy nickname had solidified when his first inkmage tattoo was one of a tree, spanning his entire back, leaves changing with the season. For one of the mages, he was rather mellow, most of the time if Avery saw one they were already calling on the magic in their tattoos to dispense justice. It had been a couple of years since he'd seen Elm last, his collection of inkwork had grown since then, clearly visible on bare arms even in this low light. It was the tattoos that were intimidating, that set Avery's heart racing, scared his secret would be uncovered at any moment. Perhaps this was the change that was coming, his arrest for illegal activities. He stayed as still as he could hoping that his panic wasn't written all over his face.
“Never hurts to find out what the future has in store.” His voice was surprisingly steady when he replied, almost casual in nature.
“Very true. Sorry I'm going to have to ruin the illusion for you, your readings on me. Now, guys, I need to know how you do your act.” While Elm sounded polite it was clear that it wasn't a request.
“Of course mage.” This time it was Fortuna Nova who spoke, sounding just as calm as their companion, nodding to Patrin after they gathered the cards back up. “Patrin if you would?”
The well dressed man shed his starry jacket, revealing arms that bore tattoos. Along one arm was a deck of what must have been tarot cards, the other gave Avery a glimpse of a crystal ball. It took only a moment for him to put the pieces together as to what those slightly faded images meant, his heart sinking. Patrin tapped the deck of cards on his arm, sendinging it into motion. It shuffled on his arm, oddly silent, before it started to fly towards his fingertips, one card at a time. When it reached his palm the card left his skin, moving from alm to table, one at a time, covering over the ones that had gone down for Avery’s reading. the fortune teller wasn’t a papermancer, it was just that their cohort was an inkmage. They’d come up with a clever act, one that had tricked Avery when he’d sat down at this table. Elm was right, the illusion had been shattered.
“That’s a cool trick.” Elm actually sounded like he meant it and maybe he did but it was hard to say. Most inkmages worked defense for the cities they lived in, their tattoos were mostly meant for the defense of the populace against papermancers and inkwells. A lot of them found inkmages who didn’t follow that path to be traitors and treated them as such. “Thank you for indulging me. I’m gonna fill out the report saying it was just a trick. Sorry to interrupt your work, I’ll let you get back to it. And Avery, gimme a call sometime. We should catch up.”
“Yeah, okay. I will.” Avery had to force his mouth to work, only managing half a smile at his childhood friend watching him walk away. No one moved until the tent flap finally stopped moving, the feeling of watching eyes disappearing. Pushing against the table, Avery moved his chair away, breaking whatever spell had fallen over them the moment Elm had walked into the tent. He’d made a fool of himself with his paper crane, looking for answers somewhere he would never find them. It must have been leftover magic that made the crane move, though that would pust suspicion on him. He needed to get out of here before they both came to their senses and called Elm back to arrest him.
“Wait! Your crane, it’s from Nebulous. Where did you get it?” Fortuna Nova reached across the table, jostling cards off the table as they grabbed Avery’s wrist to keep him from leaving. There was something vulnerable in the desperation that coloured their voice, grip surprisingly tight.
“My crane? I got it from a fair years ago. I don’t know who this Nebulous is.” He let his arm go limp, tugging on it would only hurt them both. Besides, fighting could make him look more suspicious of a crime he hadn’t committed.
“Nebulous is the strongest papermancer of our time and that crane came from him. Can I see it? What’s the message on it?” The fortune teller refused to let go of him, it was Patrin that held out his hand for the paper token.
-
“There’s nothing. It’s just a crane.” Avery let his reply linger in the air a few moments before his free hand fished the item in question from his pocket. He’d hoped they would give up and lose interest but the speed at which Patrin relieved him of it suggested that was unlikely. He was exceedingly gentle as he started to unfold the paper creation, movements slow and deliberate until it was entirely open and they could see what Avery already knew. It was blank on the inside and outside, no writing or message to be found. It was a mystery with no answer and that seemed to upset them just as much as it had upset him as a child. The fortune teller plucked it from their associate’s hand, turning it over and over again, holding it up to the light as if they might find whatever message Avery might have missed. Still there was nothing and the disappointment was clear on both of their faces as they set the page back down and finally let go of Avery’s wrist.
“Leander?” The fortune teller ignored their name, pushing the paper back towards Avery with a heavy, disappointed sigh. He snatched it back, folding it as carefully as he could, the memory of the creases still there to guide him. “It’s okay.”
“I just, thought we found him. How much papermancy do you know? That’s why he sent you to us, right?” Fortuna Nova accused Avery of the worst crime anyone could suggest and they said it easily. It caught him off guard, earning a furious shake of his head rather than a vocal denial.
“I’m not a papermancer. It just, picked it up when I was a kid, really, it’s nothing.”
“Of course you’re a papermancer, you had it hop towards me, after I mentioned a secret.” They didn’t sound as if they were going to call for an inkmage, to get him arrested but still they were accusing him.
“No. You made it do that.” Avery should have been treading carefully but he was so startled by the accusation that he found his mouth speaking before he could stop it. “I just picked it up from a tent like this when I was a kid. It’s never done that before.”
“I didn’t make it do that either.”
“Could it have been Nebulous?” Patrin interrupted before the argument could loop again, so much excitement and hope in his voice it was almost painful. The corners of his mouth fell, smile gone when Leander should their head, waving off the idea.
“I mean, if it wasn’t either of you, why couldn’t it be him?”
“I would have felt it stronger. It was just little brush of magic. Nebulous has never done a little brush in his life.” Fortuna Nova crossed their arms, looking over Avery with eyes that could see far more than what was on the surface. They leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, a few fingers tapping skin soundlessly. “It had to be him.”
“I’m not a papermancer. And I don’t appreciate the suggestion that I am.” Avery found himself getting defensive, almost angry even. His muscles were tense, ready to bolt at any moment, stomach twisted into knots. “But honestly, it sounds as if you are and I’m not afraid of calling that mage back to tell them as much.”
That was a bluff. He wasn’t going to call for Elm or any other inkmage, the bit of paper folded into a crane was too much fo a risk. He might not have been a papermancer himself but he was holding onto a trinket from one when he should have reported it to the authorities. Besides, he couldn’t explain it but he didn’t actually want to get these two arrested for anything. He just wanted to get out of here, to go home now. He’d gone through a myriad of emotions today and it had left him exhausted. Now all he wanted was to go home and to crawl into bed in the hopes that the morning would bring clarity.
Both fortune teller and assistant protested when Avery got to his feet, pushing away from the table. They weren’t done with the mystery of his paper token but he was. It was just a nicely folded bird that might have once been able to tell him his fate but now it was just a reminder of a memory he shouldn’t have. Outside of the tent his feet picked up their pace, worried that he might be followed. He was going too fast for the crowd, pushing against them, stumbling over the few that wouldn’t get out of the way even when they spotted him coming against the flow of traffic. It was easy to ignore the shouts of distress and annoyance, he couldn’t even really hear them, it was just the sound of his breathing, heavy and panicked that echoed in his ears. He didn’t even hear his name when it was called out to him, the hand that grabbed his arm caught him by surprised though it’s owner hadn’t been trying to sneak up on him.
“Avery you okay?” Elm hadn’t left the fair, though he’d removed the little badge he wore to show he was an inkmage. He was just a man enjoying the rare event just like the rest of the crowd, just as Avery had been up until he’d founded that cursed tent. It took a long moment for Avery to remember that he needed to breath, to steady his voice to keep from raising any kind of suspicion. Elm had always been a nice guy but there was no way he would let it go if he knew about the bit of paper Avery clung to dearly to even after all of these years. The rules of their city were important, they were what kept everyone safe. Any trace of papermancers could bring the risk of inkwells and while Avery knew that his token wasn’t capable of that, it would still be burned upon discovery.
“Oh! Yeah, I’m just, uh, running late. I have an early morning, I didn’t notice the time.” The sun was just starting to kiss the roofs around them, the sky tinged with orange and red.
“Okay, well, be careful yeah? Don’t get hurt rushing around like that. And seriously, give me a call. We should hang out, see a movie. Catch up on old times.” Elm and Avery had been friends once but it seemed like a lifetime ago to the shorter man now. Any other day and he might have appreciated the chance to rekindle their acquaintance but today he just wanted to vanish into the crowd and be forgotten by everyone. Particularly anyone who might accuse him of papermancy. Still, to turn him down would be just as suspicious as the running and perhaps at another time he might find himself truly in need of another friend. Avery forced himself to take another deep breath to steady himself.
“Yeah. I will. Have a good one. It was nice to see you.” Elm grinned at the farewell, looking anything but suspicious of his former classmate as they parted ways. Still Avery didn't find himself breathing normally again until he was out of the carnival, the crowds at his back. The cool evening air nipped at his cheeks and nose, his quick pace completely reasonable with no extra bodies around for more warmth. No one gave him a second look as he darted down half empty streets to return to home. He'd never been as grateful to see the rundown apartment building with its half dead ivy and peeling paint as he was that night. In the elevator his pulse finally started to slow, a feeling of mundane normalcy starting to sink in. Everything had felt so alive but here in the dim lights the whole day felt like just a surreal dream.
When he reached the safety of his small, one bedroom apartment, Avery found himself pulling the little paper crane free of his pocket, turning it over and over again in his hands. It felt as it always did, smooth and soft, as if the paper was halfway to a delicate fabric, folds more worn than the rest of it. A frown tugged at the corners of his lips, more from confusion than anything else. He'd been expecting it to seem different somehow, more lifelike after that display in the fortune teller's tent. It should have been warm or charged with magic or something else just as thrilling but no, it sat in his palm, warm only in the sense that it had pressed against his leg on the way here. He'd hoped that some of the magic would have lingered, that he could have once again recaptured the moment he'd only dreamed about for years. He slid it back into his pocket with a sigh, eyes closed as he reminded himself of the dangers of papermancers.
The rest of the evening was boring in comparison to the thrill of the day. He settled in, microwaved dinner tasting of the memory of food. His mouth yearned for the salt of fair popcorn and the sweet of the outrageous treats. He put on a movie to try and drown out the voices that whispered of adventure, staring blankly at the moving pictures before him until he managed to lose himself. This was life. Work, home, and the created adventures that could be watched from the safety of a home. The little paper crane in his pocket went momentarily forgotten, just a token of the past once more. He started to doze off, curled up on his couch with only another shift to look forward to when he woke. The sun went down on a day he would only remember once in a while, tinged with a nostalgia he could never quite reach.
The loud rap upon his door startled Avery so badly he almost didn’t catch himself ashe rolled onto the floor. The room was dark and cold now, the sun had long since set, the time on his wall suggesting an hour too late for proper visitors. Bleary eyed he stumbled to his feet, confusion rooting him in place. Avery wasn’t the sort for visitors even on a regular basis. His family didn’t live close enough for safe travel with no planning and he wasn’t close enough to anyone for surprise visits. The knocking sounded again, louder this time, more insistent. It was enough to get him moving, shaky hands fumbling the lock for a moment before he could even get it open.
He was greeted by a fist that had been about to knock again, ink on one of the knuckles flickering rapidly until it just stayed lit. Following the arm Avery was startled to find Elm at his door, the man’s expression intimidating free of the mirth it had held before. It softened a little when their gazes met but his mouth stayed in a firm line. His presence was far from comforting, particularly at this late hour, the pit of Avery’s stomach falling to the floor. He opened his mouth to speak, trying a few times to form words to no avail before he stepped to the side so that Elm could come in if he chose. The man filled the door frame for a few moments, clearly hesitating before he stepped inside.
The silence after such loud knocking was almost tangible, stretching out between them as Avery struggled to form any coherent thoughts. Was the inkmage waiting for an explanation about his paper token that seemed so heavy in his pocket now? Was he here to accuse him of consorting with papermancers? Too many scenarios raced through his head with every strained breath he took. He almost blurted out the whole story, about his experience as a child and what he saw that day but Elm interrupted him, finally breaking the silence.
“There was an inkwell sighting two blocks from here.” Elm spoke slowly, as if he thought that Avery wouldn’t be able to understand him if he didn’t. “They evacuated this part of the city.”
“What? I didn’t hear… I’ve been asleep.” Avery’s emotions were a mess, fear reigning over them all for different reasons. The last sighting of an inkwell inside the city had been well over a decade previous, when he was still just a kid. His teacher had explained to all of them when they came to class the next day why it was so dangerous, that an inkmage had actually been killed by the monster. It had been a tense time, curfews set in place, multiple sweeps of the city were conducted to try and find the papermancer responsible. Inkwells were dangerous and hard to contain, terrifying creatures that would destroy any and everything in their path if they weren’t stopped and they were the product of papermancer magic. The threat of them so close made Avery’s knees weak, threatening to give out before he was hit with another, equally terrifying thought.
What if Elm thought he was the source of the inkwell and that was why he was here, knocking at his door.
“You should evacuate. I can take you to the nearest centre.” The words were far away, as was Elm’s gaze, not quite here in the moment as he made his declaration. He looked distracted, almost confused as if he’d not meant to come here or as if there was something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He glanced at the hand that had done the knocking, rubbing the knuckle that housed the tattoo that had blinked so rapidly when Avery had first pulled back the door.
“Are… are you okay?” The words were out of Avery’s mouth before he could judge if they were the right ones for this situation. At least it had seemed to snap him out of whatever fog he’d been in, eyes blinking as if they finally saw the room around them, settling on Avery’s face.
“Yeah. I uh, followed a signal here. Guess my tattoo wanted me to check in on you.” His smile wasn’t overly convincing but it was sincere enough that Avery could at least breathe normally again. He wasn’t in trouble, he was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. “Let’s get you to one of the evacuation centres-”
There was a thump from Avery’s bedroom, like something heavy had fallen to the floor. It made the shorter man jump, the inkmage just turned his head to stare down the short hallway. Instinctively Avery found himself shifting to hide behind Elm, his stomach protesting the quick movement. There was another sound, a rattling, that pushed his nerves over the edge. What if the inkwell had made it to his apartment? A single inkmage would never be enough to tame one of the beasts if they’d made it into his home. A third noise made a whine escape from Avery’s throat, a vocal expression of the fear that had gripped his body. He almost protested when Elm stepped away from him, heading in the direction of the mysterious noises but his one time friend raised a finger to his lips as he crept forward. He vanished into Avery’s bedroom, far braver than the smaller man had ever been.
Nervous eyes stayed trained on the doorframe, so focused that they didn’t notice the movement in their window. It wasn’t until there was a scraping sound, caused by the frame pushing against itself as it opened. Avery was too startled to make a sound, to call for Elm from the other room, he could only stare at the opening portal. It took him more than a moment for his brain to catch up with what he was seeing however, the fortune teller Leander and their partner Patrin climbing into his living room. The pair righted themselves, sharing a relieved look before they stepped closer.
“Thank goodness we found you. You left before we could figure out that crane.” It was Leander who spoke, his volume shockingly loud after the silence that had pressed in from the moment Elm had left the room. They held no regard for the room that avery’s gaze kept darting back to, they just kept coming closer, hands reaching out for the token that he had still hidden in his pocket. “Please, let me see it.”
“I can’t-” Avery cut himself off, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. It was then that the pair realized they were not alone with the young man, stances shifting to guarded positions. Elm didn’t notice them right away, a smile on his lips when he came back.
“Well, I guess it was just the wind knocking stuff around in there, sorry to alarm you we should get going.” The intruders stayed statuelike, Avery wasn’t even sure if they were breathing to keep themselves from getting noticed. Still, Elm was observant, his smile dropping to a frown when he finally did catch them. The ink on his arms shifted, writhing vines that surged towards his hands, the tips of them breaking at his palms, waiting for further commands as he took in the situation before him. “Didn’t know you had friends over Avery. Any particular reason for hiding them?”
“I didn’t invite them. They just showed up while you were in my room.” The lighting played tricks on his eyes, he could almost swear that he caught a moment of hurt shifting over Patrin’s face before it hardened once more. Neither one had moved to match Elm’s defensive position but they both eyed his palms warily, fully aware that if their owner wanted, they could reached out to snare them.
“Then what are you two doing here, breaking into someone's home?” He'd finally noticed the open window behind the pair, a passing breeze had picked up, ruffling clothing and hair as if it needed attention. The vines twisted themselves around Elm’s fingers, constantly moving, waiting to strike.
“No we’re…” Patrin had seemed to be the confident one earlier, the one who knew what to say and when but now he struggled for words, lips moving with no sound. They were backed into a corner, all the proof pointed to exactly that, though Avery would rather they kept the reason for their sudden felony secret. They were saved from having to answer anymore questions when a loud crash from the hallway shook the walls, dust drifting from the ceiling. The next thump was at the door, the wood rattling against the hand Avery had braced against it, sound repeated once more as warning before it splintered, shattering as if it was glass. Avery was saved by strong hands that had grabbed his arms, tugging him out of the way as a living nightmare crawled through the hole it had just made.
Avery had never seen an inkwell before, no even in pictures or on TV. There were only second hand accounts that described the writhing form of ooze, word of mouth that was passed down from teacher to student from the earliest age imaginable. It wasn’t as large as Avery had thought it would be, but that made it no less frightening. It held no real shape, its body ever shifting, the surface of its flesh glistening in the dim lighting. It froze for a moment, once it was fully inside, moving something that must have been its head from side to side slowly, surveying without eyes. No one moved a muscle, none of them even breathed as they watched the creature’s unnatural movements. For the briefest of moments it looked as though they might have been safe.The creature looked back to the hole it made, moving towards it before it whipped its head back around, splitting to form a monstrous mouth of razor sharp teeth.
It was a blur as it leap forward, the sound of its shriek pressing in to make Avery’s ears ache. He was vaguely aware of his friend pulling him closer, wrapping his body around him to act as a shield but the monster wasn’t aimed at him. It had launched itself at Leander and their brother instead, moving faster than anything had the right to. Leander reacted first, a bit of paper in their hand, flung from fingertips, unfolding time and time again until it created a shield of their own. The inkwell smashed its form against the paper to no avail, leaving a splatter of darkness in its wake. Avery could feel the rumble of each assault through the floor, the vibration chipping away at the strength of his legs. He was going to collapse and leave himself at the mercy of a monster that every child had learned to fear.
“This way!” Patrin called out from behind the shield, a hand darting out from behind the paper protection to wave at the pair that had been trapped by the door. Elm stiffened, they all did, watching the inkwell’s actions but it just threw itself at the barrier once more with an inhuman growl. The inkmage squared his shoulders, nodding silently before he grabbed one of Avery’s arms. The man barely had any time to register what was happening before he found himself being dragged across his living room, away from the only escape route, towards the corner the intruding pair were trapped in. It wasn’t until he was halfway out the window before he figured out what was happening.
Elm kept a firm grip on him, even as they both finally slipped, the weight of them pulled towards the ground with no balconies or fire escapes to break their fall. A scream pulled itself from Avery’s throat, sheer terror expressed through sound. Their fall was slowed all at once by the ink vines that had threatened to grab the papermancer and their friend earlier, the edges of them gripping the window sill they’d fallen from. When their feet finally touched the pavement they’d had barely any momentum at all, giving Avery a chance to catch his breath, or at least attempt to. His head was still spinning over the disaster they’d left up in his apartment. There was an inkwell fighting a pair of fortune tellers he’d met that afternoon. It felt like some horrible nightmare only his arm ached where Elm had grabbed him, the sting of a forming bruise the only thing grounding him.
the next time Elm reached out for him, he grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the building he called home. Avery stumbled over his own feet for a moment before his legs remembered how to work, a rush of adrenaline getting him moving. There were two thumps behind them, a sound that made Avery jump and twist to try and see what it was but Elm didn’t slow down, his pace just a moment away from a run. Footsteps behind them moved much quicker, the pair of intruders running to catch up. Avery almost thought that the inkmage would stop them, that their previous fight would rekindle but instead when they finally matched strides he just jerked his head down a side alley, taking shelter there. There had been no sound to indicate that the inkwell had followed, nothing to suggest that it wasn’t still up in his apartment, destroying everything it touched but when Elm pressed a finger to his lips to silence the question he’d been about to ask, he didn’t fight it. They were all silent, holding their breaths as they listened for the creature that could be their death.
Wordlessly Patrin held out an arm, rolling up his sleeves to reveal a tattoo that almost looked like an upside down teardrop on a chain. Leander moved closer to him, though one hand reached out to grabbed at Avery’s wrist, their eyes locked on Patrin’s arm. He tapped the peculiar tattoo, the plain end of the chain lifting itself from his skin so he could pull the whole thing free. Heavy end dangling from his fingers, Avery understood better what it was he was looking at. It was a pendulum, starting to swing just a little at first before it picked up the pace, tracing circles in the air before it finally stopped. It was on an angle, ignoring gravity as it pointed at seemingly nothing. It must have meant something to Patrin, his tattoo sending him a clear message as he crept towards the alley’s entrance, peering out in the direction he was directed to. He came back after a moment, satisfied with what h’d seen.
“We should go now.” He whispered, though the sound of it felt too loud, pressing in on everything in this little alleyway. “There’s a safe route.”
“It’s gone?” Leander asked the question they were all scared to know the answer to, their voice shaking just a little.
“I didn’t see it. We should go.” His tattoo was just as insistent, the sound of chain snapping tight.
Elm looked as though he wanted to protest, glancing down at his knuckles, rubbing the one that Avery recognized from that knocking on his door. His gaze shifted, taking in the light hold that Leander had on his old friend’s arm. He didn’t quite frown but he did make a small face that was unreadable in the dark of the night. He was the first to move, heading for the edge that Patrin had peered around, peeking out himself for a moment before he nodded back at his friend. Leander still hadn’t moved, hand on Avery’s wrist, letting themselves follow in his wake.
It was nearly impossible not to run with the nerves that Avery had in his gut but the pace Patrin set with his tattoo to guide them was slow. The four of them crept down the streets, pressed close to the walls to hide in shadows. Avery had never been through this part of town before, particularly not at this time of night and it only took a few corners to throw him off, leaving him lost only a few blocks from his abandoned home. They hadn’t been walking for very long when something behind them rattled loudly, ending in a crash. Only Elm was brave enough to twist back, looking for the cause. The tension was smothering, stealing away Avery’s breath as they all waited for the verdict.
“Move.” His voice was soft but commanding, repeating with more urgency when there was another crash. Patrin didn’t need to be told again, feet echoing loudly as he started to run. Leander let go only then, their speed much faster than Avery’s moving to the front of the group. The group only stopped when the next turn left them face to face with the city limit, the great wall looming above even the tallest buildings. They were backed into a corner and still the pendulum insisted they go forward. There were no doors, no gates, nothing to lead out of the city, they all knew that even as palms ran along the edges, trying to find some way out.
-
“We have to go over.” Leander’s voice cracked with despair when they voiced the realization that they’d all been trying to ignore. The crumbling wall had a few footholds though it was doubtful how long and how much weight they could actually hold. Besides, Avery had never excelled at climbing, if his fate lay in his ability to scale a wall then this was the end for him.
Patrin didn’t wait to see if anyone would voice a problem with the plan. He leapt at the wall, clinging to rough bits of stone as if it was as simple as walking. He didn’t wait where he landed either, he started to climb, sticking fingers and toes into cracks that Avery wouldn’t have even noticed to use. Leander followed him up, though their method was different. Paper pulled from pockets formed into sharp spikes that pierced the wall easily, offering a different kind of hold on the wall. Only Elm had yet to move, watching Avery with that same unreadable expression.
“I can’t climb.” Avery whispered his secret at his old friend, the same fear that had cracked Leander’s voice making his own shake. There was the sound of clattering metal from just around the corner as the inkwell rounded on them, its gargling roar louder than it had been in his apartment. His eyes burned with tears that would not fall. He wasn’t ready to die, not now.
“Get on my back, now.” Elm ran his fingers down his arms, pulling vines and roots from his skin faster than before, turning to face the wall, crouching just a little to make the task easier. Avery jumped, his hold around the inkmage’s neck a poor one. The man didn’t seem to mind, tugging his legs around to add a little stability, bits of vine curling around ankles and wrists for just a little more support. Another roar from the inkwell put it closer than any of them would have liked and with a deep breath Avery could feel against his back, Elm threw his vines up. They curled around the top of the wall, gripping at stone as if they’d always grown there, sturdy enough that when Elm started to climb they didn’t drop him or his burden.
The wall shook every time the inkwell threw itself at the wall, ramming it again and again as it had done at the shield Leander held before. Limbs with no real defined form clawed at the stone, finding no purchase as the distance before group and monster grew. When the first of them reached the top it seemed to tire of that chase, whipping about to find some other destruction to cause. The wind brought bits of voices to the escaping group, the sounds of inkmages rounding on the creature to try and contain it. They couldn’t leave it in the city, it needed to be herded back to the wastes where they gathered.
At the top of the wall they all sat, catching their breath as their pursuer wandered off. In the dim light of the moon Avery spotted a lizard tattoo on the palm of Patrin’s hand that scampered off to hide beneath his sleeve. When air wasn’t so scarce Avery would ask if that had been his trick to climbing the wall as he had, moving like an animal rather than a human. He was grateful to Elm and his tattoos, for their versatility, though they grew more uncomfortable as time went on. Without them he would tumble over the other side of the wall, into the wasteland that spanned between cities, ruled by monsters and nightmares. When they all seemed to have remembered how to slow their heart rates Patrin shifted enough to catch everyone’s attention, summoning his pendulum tattoo once more.
Avery expected the spelled ink to stay pin straight, or to hover a little, while the danger took off in a different direction but instead it whipped about pointing in the same direction it had before they’d climbed up here. Very carefully, still tethered to Elm, he tried to twist his head to look out at a world he’d never seen before but all he caught glimpses of was rubble and steel, the remains of the world that used to exist before the inkwells consumed it all. All eyes were trained on just the tattoo, disbelief on everyone’s faces, including the caster of the spell. Patrin licked his lips before he glanced down the other side of the large wall as if there was some sort of explanation there.
“I guess… we keep going.” He hesitated, Leander almost wincing at the suggestion.
“Into the wastes? Are you crazy? Why the hell would we go there?” Elm’s voice was strained as if he was holding back a shout, words barely sounding.
“Because that’s where it’s telling us to go. It’s never steered us wrong before.” Leander was the one to answer, not quite whispering as they reached out to rest a hand on their friend’s arm. “We’ve never traveled there outside of a troupe. Are you sure that’s what it wants Patrin?”
“I’ve never had it pull this hard Lean, if I let it go I feel like it would fly away.” As if to counter his words the man wrapped the chain around his hand, fisting the stone on the end until the ink merged with his skin once more. “The sightings around here haven’t been so bad, you know they’ve been drawn to those flares the last couple of times we went between cities. We’ll be okay.”
There was silence save for the gentle sounds of the night, a few insects singing out from their place in the shadows. Leander nodded, the action so slight that Avery almost missed it. “Please. Come with us. We’ll keep you safe.”
The plea was made to both Avery and Elm, the papermancer ‘s expression twisted into one of worry. From his perch upon the man’s back, Avery couldn’t see Elm’s reaction but he could guess it that it wasn’t the right one from how the fortune teller’s face stiffened. They nodded, not saying a word as they turned back to Patrin, summoning the same spikes they’d used to climb up the wall. Without a word they twisted and pushed off from the wall, the sound of the paper blades hitting the wall to slow their fall just a few moments later. Patrin frowned at the unusual pair. The lizard tattoo he had skittered back down his wrist before he followed the papermancer, dropping down the other side of the wall soundlessly. Avery couldn’t move his head in the right direction to see if they made it down safely, he could only hope when he heard no screams of fear.
Avery was at the mercy of his childhood friend, strapped to his back as they waited for the coast to clear for certain. He had no idea what kind of home he’d have to go back to, how much destruction he would find in the wake of the inkwell that had chased them here. He heard Elm mutter to himself about the dangers of letting a papermaner go, fingers tapping the top of the thick wall in thought. The sound drew Avery’s gaze, eyes widening a little when he noticed something unusual on his knuckle, a light flickering beneath the skin. It blinked rapidly, pace irregular in that it appeared to be slowing down a little. The hand’s owner had yet to notice it, he was still staring down at the city, trying to figure out where the rogue inkwell might be in the maze of close streets and half repaired buildings.
“Elm, what’s that one, on your finger? It’s flashing?” Avery had to repeat himself, he could hear the hum of confusion the first time, he’d interrupted a thought or something of the sort.
“Damn it.” Elm added a few more curses onto his reply before he offered any sort of answer. He was already turning in place, hands braced on rough stone before his legs dangled over the more dangerous side of the wall. “It means we’re going with them. I knew I shouldn’t let a papermancer go.”
The wall felt taller on this side, there were no complete buildings to make the ground feel closer, just the memories of them scattered few and far between. Calling the outerworld the wastes seemed almost an understatement when Avery was first faced with the barren landscape in front of them. Along the perimeter of the wall lay the ghost of a once larger city, scraps of the buildings used to piece together the defending wall. Just beyond those, he thought he might have spotted shrubs, most looking scraggly and sad from this distance in this shadowy night. There were hills, if he squinted hard enough to make out their rolling outlines but that was it, he could see no more. This was the true unknown, home of the oozing nightmares that tormented those brave or stupid enough to wander between cities.
“Do you want me to take you home first?” As if Elm could read the fear in Avery’s mind, he posed the question while vines twisted their way out of his palms once more. “I should get you to safety. That’s what I showed up to do.”
“No. I’m invested now and you’ll lose them if you don’t go now.” What was he going to go back to? A ruined apartment and a boring job that made him feel numb at the end of the day? Adventure had come calling and he wasn’t going to let fear or common sense stop him from taking this leap. His friend cursed the logical statement before he threw out his hands, the magical tattoos flying forward, wrapping themselves around a close steel beam. Elm gave it a few tugs, satisfied when it didn’t collapse. This time Avery took the deep breath with him, their backs rising in unison before he braced himself for the next step. Elm pushed off the wall with his feet, sending them swinging forward, steel beam as an anchor. When the back and forth movement had slowed Elm let his tattoos grow slowly, lowering them towards an uncertain ground. Only once the inkmage’s feet touched the ground did all of the roots and vines vanish, freeing Avery from his captive position on the man’s back.
It was his turn to utter profanity, his limbs aching from the held position, legs protesting the use as he tried to stretch out the muscles there. A few of his joints cracked when he stretched out his back but he felt better, well enough to let Elm lead the way. They picked a path through the rubble, the beams and stones feeling so much larger now than they had before. This city had once been huge, bits of road still clinging to the ground though gnarled roots tried to push their way up and out from between the cracks. Bits of life tried to reclaim the world that had been lost to the rise of inkwells decades ago. It was a maze of memories that they slowly worked their way through, on high alert in case they ended up ambushed by the same monster as they had been earlier in the evening.
Every so often they would pause, Elm watching his hand just as much as he was watching the route before them. Sometimes they would need to backtrack, taking a different turn as the light flickered faster or slower in patterns only the inkmage could interpret. Avery wondered if it was a little like the other’s pendulumn, or if it was a tracking method, one to help find papermancers in particular. The further they walked into the wastes the more he found himself questioning his decision. If he had just gone back home to deal with that mess he would have been safe now, with memories he could look back on fondly. Instead he was out here risking his neck looking for dangerous criminals. With a shaky hand he slipped his fingers into the pocket of his pants, finding the paper crane still settled there as it always was. The token calmed him down a little, grounded his thoughts. Maybe this journey would lead him to the answers he always wanted.
“How does that work?” Avery murmured his questions after he’d been helped up for the third time, his footing on the gravely surface poor. The crumbling walls around him were starting to close in on him, the feeling of unseen eyes peering from every shadow. He needed conversation to keep him distracted, even if it was a risk. Elm seemed a little reluctant to answer, he twisted a few times to eye his useless companion before he sighed a little, holding up the and with the blinking light.
“It’s not as effective as that one that other guy had, but it’s kind of like a radar? It blinks when I’m getting close to something important. It uh, it lead me to your apartment, I guess because that papermancer was going to show up there. Sometimes I can’t figure out where it wants me to go.” He looked a little uncertain as he spoke, admitting the flaw in his tattoo's ability. There was a chance they were just walking into danger without the promise of reward. The notion left Avery cold enough to shiver, eyes trained on the light even as Elm lowered his hand. “We can’t lose the wall at least. We’ll always be able to find that.”
Those words weren’t as comforting as they were meant to be. Now the wall behind them felt almost sinister as it loomed behind them, only the tallest of the bare beams reaching the same height. Avery kept his mouth shut after that, following behind the man that was once his friend, hoping that it wasn’t as risky to follow the light as it just sounded. The nerves in his stomach solidified into a true fear when the first noises started to reach their ears. The odd shuffling sound couldn’t have come from any insect, it was too loud and heavy for that. Avery’s first thought was that it was another inkwell, one that had found them in its territory. He moved closer to Elm, one hand resting lightly on the man’s back to make sure that he didn’t lose him without going so far as to hold his hand. Elm didn’t stop him, he didn’t even pause when those fingers grazed his back, he just kept pushing forward, on the lookout for whatever danger was making those noises.
One moment Elm was in front of Avery, close enough that he could have fists his fingers in his shirt and the next moment he was gone. The ground beneath him had shifted and before either one of them knew what was happening, the inkmage had fallen, sliding down a slope that had been invisible until that moment. Avery was left at the top of the ridge, watching in horror as his only companion vanished down a slide of rubble, only his indignant shout to prove he was still alright. Avery judged the steep hill, trying to figure out how best to scale down it without tumbling down himself. At the bottom Elm had stood up, brushing himself off but the smaller man was fairly certain shout he attempt the same trick he would emerge with scrapes and bruises if not a broken bone or two. Elm was almost indestructible in his eyes, particularly with the bark of his tattoos raising to act as a shield.
“Avery? You up there?” Elm called up, hand shielding his eyes as he squinted into the dark, trying to see the friend he’d left behind.
“Yeah. You okay?” Avery called down, feeling more exposed than ever up on the ridge by himself. He was a sitting duck up here, it would be the perfect time for a waiting inkwell to strike.
“I’m fine. Come down. This is the way we gotta go.” He waved his hand, the faint light on his knuckle blinking rapidly up at Avery. He wrinkled his nose a little, taking a few test steps, slowly letting his weight come down each time to try and keep himself from falling. It worked for a few steps but then a larger stone tricked him into thinking it was more stable than it actually was, depositing him on the ground hard. Gravity wouldn’t let him go, pulling him down the hill along with the stones beneath him. When he reached the bottom the backs of his thighs were a little tender, Elm’s vine tattoos slowing him down so that at least he didn’t crash.
The inkmage helped him right himself, hissing a little in sympathy when they checked the scrapes on the palms of his hands. Elm volunteered his shirt for bandages without question, cutting into the fabric with a small blade that had come from who knew where on his skin. Most of the man’s tattoos were hidden by his clothing, Avery had no idea what other tricks Elm had up his sleeves, he watched with curiosity as the man wrapped his hands.
Right now he was grateful for them all, they’d done nothing but keep him safe while the world felt a little like it was crumbling in.
They took up a slower pace when they started walking again, footsteps careful to keep another fall at bay. The hills were much closer now, jutting up from the edges of the city’s limit, masking anything that lay behind them. They’d looked so small from the top of the wall but at their base they towered over the pair of friends, casting more shadows than before. More than once Avery lost sight of Elm’s form, following just the flickering light on his hand. After the third disappearance he grabbed the back of the man’s shirt, tethering them together. His grip tightened when the faintest of sounds were brought in on the winds, twisting and winding through the ruins. They were both on edge as they rounded the next corner, moving so slow Avery’s muscles ached.
Avery had just stuck his head around Elm’s arm when something small and fast whizzed past his face, his ear stinging a little. He had no idea what had happened, turning back to look at whatever the projectile was but it was too dark. Facing forward again, his face wrinkled into a look of confusion. Elm wasn’t on edge anymore, stepping towards their assailant quickly, taking Avery with him. His eyes took a little longer to adjust, to focus on what it was that had preemptively attacked them. Patrin looked sheepish, hands moving to tug the chain of his tattoo back again. The sharp crystal pendulum dragged itself along the ground, passing one of Avery’s feet as it returned to its owner. The sting on his face was forgotten as a tentative smile formed on his lips, Elm’s tattoo had delivered them to the proper location afterall.
“I’m so sorry. I thought you were an inkwell, are you okay?” Patrin met them halfway, grabbing either side of Avery’s face, looking him over through the dark. His fingers were surprisingly gentle as they prodded his one cheek, thumb running over it as he examined it. “You aren’t bleeding, I think it’s just a scratch, I’m sorry.”
“O-okay?” Avery hadn’t even really realized that something had hit him like that, that there had been a risk of bleeding but now that attention had been drawn to it, his cheek stung worse than ever.
“What are you two even doing?” Elm sounded frustrated, half herding Avery and Patrin back to where Leander stood to keep them all together. When Avery was close enough he took the time to check his cheek as well, though he said nothing on the matter when he stepped back a little.
“My pendulum dropped all of a sudden, it wouldn’t tell me what way to go. We were trying to decide if there was something important here but I think it was just making us wait for you guys. What made you change your minds?” Patrin held the tattoo in question in his hand but he’d yet to set it free, to have it guide the way.
“I should be arresting you both right now. Papermancy is punishable by death.” Avery had never heard his friend’s voice so cold as it was in that moment. There was no reply to his statement, only a stunning kind of silence free from even the ambient sounds of the night. It made Avery shiver, a chill settling into his bones. Even the wind seemed absent, the moment lingering on. The group waited for the next move, for Elm to strike or for the pair to run, or for some hidden inkwell to attack. “But I’d rather know why you broke into Avery’s place and why you helped us get away from the inkwell.”
“Not here.” Leander’s voice was strained as they finally spoke up, half perched on a bit of rubble, paper cut into the shape of glasses perched upon their nose. “We have to keep moving.”
“Yeah well maybe you could tell my pendulum that, because I would really like to get moving too.” Patrin dropped the heavy stone from the palm of his hand as if he was trying to make a point but his tattoo decided it wasn’t going to cooperate. Instead it swung about wildly, seemingly at random until it swung up in the direction of the hills and stayed that way. He grumbled something about the nerve of magic to make its user seem stupid ashe started walking, not bothering to turn and see if any of them were following along. Leander hopped down almost soundlessly, a hand reaching out to take one of Avery’s pulling him along as they followed Patrin. Neither of the two looked to see if Elm would follow but Avery wasn’t ready to leave his friend behind. Something had worked to bring them together this day and he wasn’t about to look past that. Avery grabbed one of Elm’s hands, the rough skin of his palm warm as he curled his fingers around to lock them in place.
There was little to say as they all walked, climbing one hill after the other, always alert as if the next dip would bring them to a poll of inkwells just waiting on a meal. It was unnerving how empty this place felt, a handful of shrubs here and there the only things to suggest that the wastes had any life at all. Every so often the ground would be stained, dark splotches of various sizes that felt dangerous to even look at. More than once the ground had to weave around them, careful not to step on one. Avery had no idea what would happen if they did but he didn’t want to be the one to find out. He was busy avoiding one of the larger puddles of shadow eyes trained to the ground so when one of their party members gasped he had no idea why. He looked up slowly, his stomach dropping to his feet as he expected to see a mess of the monsters they’d been trying to avoid.
“It’s beautiful.”
Leander was the first to speak, pulling the glasses from their face as they all tried to understand what it was they were looking at. They’d long passed the point of visibility from the top of the wall, each hill they scaled had been a surprise but no view had been more unexpected than this one. They’d walked most of the night, the faintest touches of sunrise proving as much, lighting up the dense forest at the bottom of the hill. Avery had never seen so much green all in one place, growing and thriving as if there was no wasteland on the other side of the large mound. Elm’s grip on Avery’s hand tightened a little, the same look of awe on his his face that everyone else shared. Still their journey wasn’t done as Patrin’s pendulum insisted, pointing straight at the forest.
There wasn’t really a path in or out of the dense trees though if he squinted, Avery could see where their might have been one in the past. The underbrush was a little thinner in some places, a little more scarce as if feet had once pressed it down on a more regular basis. Every few feet, Elm would stop to mark a tree with the little dagger he had, the tattoo’s origin still a mystery. It had been Leander’s idea, to mark the path out in case they were separated or if the path they were following decided to stop dead in the heart of the forest. It felt almost wrong to mark the beauty of the forest that way, with little gouges in the bark but the fear of getting lost was too strong.
It wasn’t too far passed the first line of trees when they stumbled upon what the pendulum was calling them to. There was a little cottage, the weeds at its base starting to reclaim it as they climbed up the walls, traveling in the nooks and crannies they could find. Unlike the ruins outside the city, this building was still fully intact, the windows were all in one piece and from what they could see, the roof was as well. It took a few moments to find the door, one particularly adventurous vine had worked its way up most of the doorframe, hiding the obvious outline of it. All eyes turned to Elm, expecting him to lead the way forward from here, once they’d determined that this was where the chained stone wanted them to go.
“I’m not breaking down the door or anything.” He made his declaration to them all as he let go of Avery, reaching out to test the door handle. When it didn’t budge he just shrugged a little, stepping back. “We can check for an unlocked window but I’m not breaking into somewhere I don’t know.”
They split up, jiggling windows to see if any of them would come loose enough one of them could slip in and get the front door. On a whim Avery paused, setting his hand on the door handle, giving it a half hearted turn, knowing it was locked. Only it wasn’t locked, the metal twisted in his hand, groaning a little as the door pushed open, protesting leaving the frame. It pushed all the way open, the dark doorway oddly inviting as Avery just stared into the shadows there. Patrin was the first to come back around, cheering loudly when he spotted the open door, calling for Leander and Elm to come back. There was a soft argument over if the door was really locked or if Elm had just not tried hard enough but Avery wasn’t listening to a word of it. All he could hear was the rustling of paper, calling to him from the heart of the little cottage. Without a word he stepped forward, feet leaving a trail in the dust behind him.
He didn’t hear the voices that called out behind him, telling him to slow down and wait, to let Elm go first in case there was something dangerous lurking within. he just kept moving, pausing in the middle of the hall. He took a sharp breath when te rustling got louder, followed by a sudden and strong wind. The paper crane within his pocket freed itself, flapping wildly as if it was a living breathing animal, pushing against the breeze. It didn’t get far before it stopped in mid air, hovering for a moment before it started to shake. There was a pop, as if the atmosphere itself was squeezing in on all of them and then it released all at once. They all gasped to catch their breaths, ears ringing, eyes watering as the world ceased to make sense. It was Avery who first freed himself from the confusion, looking for his paper token.
The crane was gone, there was no trace of it, not even in the form of bits of paper. What stood in its place was a familiar face, one that he’d thought he would never see again. The fortune teller wore a robe of white, heavy sleeves free of wrinkles and creases as he looked over the group before him. There was the faintest hint of a smile as he combed through his hair, waiting for the rest of them to come out of their trances, to find their ground again.
“Nebulous!” Leander was the one to shout the papermancer’s name, voice echoing it was so loud. The man just raised a hand, bringing a finger to his lips to indicate silence. Both Leander and Patrin surged forward, pushing past Avery to great the man they’d mentioned before, within the confines of their tent. It was the same man who had asked him to pick his fate, the one who had been chased out of town by the inkmages who had found them. Avery had thought they would never meet again, his voice stolen away by surprise.
“You’re too loud Leander. Inside voice please.” Nebulous’ tone was softer than Avery might have imagined though there was still the suggestion of an edge just beneath his words. He embraced the pair that had been searching for him, that had broken into Avery’s apartment just for a hint of his location. He looked around their shoulders, waving in Elm who’d still not moved from his place outside. The inkmage looked reluctant to enter but in the end he seemed to find it more favourable than waiting outside. “I’m sure you have more questions that I have answers for.”
The papermancer was correct. The pair of them fired question after question the moment the front door had been closed to the world, not offering enough time to actually answer them. Through the running dialogue Avery learned the pair were siblings, abandoned the moment Leander’s abilities made themselves clear. Nebulous had taken them under his wing, helped to train Leander to keep their power a secret. He’d vanished one day out of the blue, before the pair were really old enough to care for themselves, though they’d found a way, tagging along with a traveling fair that didn’t care to know their real ages. From there they’d developed their routine, using Leander’s papermancy out in the open, covering up their trail with Patrin’s tattoos. The mn was reluctant to share where they had come from, even when Nebulous took up Elm’s inquiry. Eventually they dropped the subject, though Elm seemed less than pleased by it. There weren’t many ink artists that could bring a tattoo to life that weren’t employed by city inkmages and it was considered insulting to tattoo someone who wasn’t training to protect one of the cities.
Elm looked uncomfortable, unable to relax as Leander and Patrin had done once Nebulous had tidied the place up with a wave of his hand. Paper had pulled itself from more drawers and cupboards than Avery had thought possible, a whirlwind as it swept away dust and dirt that came from more than one years uninhabited. It had been a breathtaking and simple display of power, one that had left Elm bristling. He’d spent years training, preparing for the possibility of one day meeting and capturing a papermancer yet here he sat with his childhood friend, listening to not one but two papermancers and an inkmage with a shady history. On Avery’s end he couldn’t help but find himself fascinated. He’d grown up just as every other citizen had, with the constant reminder of the dangers of papermancy, he’d even experienced an inkwell first had and yet he could not hate the trio that sat, reconnecting. The conversation started to slow, mostly due to Patrin’s lose of energy. He’d stopped talking altogether, looking a little vacant while his sibling went on.
“Where have you been all this time?” Leander had asked the question before but this was the first opportunity they gave Nebulous to actually reply. There was silence following the question and the papermancer’s eyes turned to rest on Avery, expression thoughtful. Elm had finally taken a seat near his friend, a hand resting on his shoulder almost possessively. They were not a part of this reunion, they were little more than prisoners of circumstance. Avery swallowed, his mouth dry, trying to understand the answer in the older man’s eyes.
“I was almost caught, I needed to hide, to stay safe, so I made myself small and inconspicuous.” Nebulous was talking directly to Avery now, their eyes locked, blind to the others around them. “And then someone took very good care of me, for many years, until he could deliver me here. Without him, I would be dead.”
“The crane? You’ve been the crane?” Avery surprised himself, that was the first he’d spoken since he’d stepped into the cottage.
“Sort of. There’s no better way to explain it.” Nebulous only broke their eye contact when it was clear by Avery’s expression that he was overwhelmed by it all. All this time, he’d thought the man was dead, captured by inkmages or perhaps living as a fugitive far away but instead he’d been folded up into a little crane. He’d never left the crane behind, never lost it. Over the years it had been his only constant companion but to know that it had been someone, that it had harboured such a secret made his head spin. He was spared from having to reply at least, Leander began to pick their once guardian’s brain over the particular trick.
“Are you okay?” Patrin waited until Elm had to take a walk, they could see him circling the cottage from the windows, moving to sit closer to Avery. He didn’t look all that well himself, his cheeks pale, beads of sweat along his forehead but that didn’t stop him from asking after Avery’s health.
“Yeah, it’s just a lot. Like, a lot a lot. And I’m not really sure what I’m still doing here. I think Elm’s going to come back in and day it’s time to go.” Avery had been waiting for that particular declaration since the moment they sat to talk to the powerful papermancer. He was fairly certain that his friend was currently trying to decide the importance of arresting the group over the likelihood of it succeeding. One papermancer alone was dangerous enough, two would be nearly impossible for just one inkmage to bring down. The problem was, Avery wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave. Even if he didn’t have a place here amongst this pieced together family, the idea of returning home to a ruined apartment and a quiet city wasn’t all that appealing. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m okay. My lizard doesn’t want to sit still and it makes me nauseous sometimes. Nothing too serious, just annoying.” Patrin pushed up a sleeve to reveal the little tattoo scampering up his forearm to hide beneath the sleeve once more. It almost made Avery laugh with it’s absurd little scamper.
“That’s what happens when you get a back alley tattoo.” Elm had returned from his walk, silent in his entry until that moment, startling both of the young men on the couch. “The ink doesn’t want to listen to you and it gives you a hard time.”
“It listens to me. Just the one is a little more active than planned. It’s not so bad if I don’t use it that much but it was the only way up and down that wall.” Patrin got defensive, frowning at the official inkmage, rolling his sleeves back down to cover up and hide the rest of his tattoos as if that might stop Elm’s judgement. Instead of arguing the man half sighed from the doorway, shrugging a little as he came into the living room, sitting on Avery’s other side.
“It’s like that for some inkmages too. Depends on what your tattoo is and how good the artist is. Fire can get a little consuming.” He eyed the two for a moment before he twisted in his seat, lifting the back of his shirt to show off the tattoo that spanned his whole back. The tree looked magnificent, full of life, its roots twining their way along the curves of his body as if it was the most natural thing for them. Avery couldn’t help himself, he gently brushed his fingers along the line of one root in particular, tracing it for a second before he pulled back sheepishly.
“This one started smaller. It was my first tattoo, I got it between my shoulderblades, it was meant to help root me to the earth in a fight, and to give me armor like bark. My artist told me it must have flourished because by the time I went in for my second tattoo, when I graduated, it was already taking up half my back. It keeps growing, even if I want the space for other pieces. Hell, it took over one that I had done before, a hawk that I wanted to use for the sight. Sometimes the hawk finds its way into the branches of the tree and I can use it but not always.” Elm let his shirt hem drop once more, covering up the skin and its artwork as he turned to face them both again, expression difficult to read. “Mine was done by a tattoo master. I’ve seen other tattoos take less to act up. Don’t get any more of your shady pieces if you want to keep control on them. The more you have the worse it will get.”
“Thanks for the concern but I’m fine, and my tattoo is fine.” Patrin sounded a little less annoyed with the advice but his defenses still didn’t come down. This was the moment of truth, Elm’s decision could change the course of the evening from a peaceful one to another fight.
“Okay. You don’t have to listen to my warning. I’m not your mom.” Elm rubbed his temple for a moment, letting out another heavy sigh before he finally made the declaration they’d all been waiting on. “Avery, we should get back home, while the sun it out. Inkwells are slower in the day and I want to put as much distance in before they send one after us.”
It surprised everyone, Elm’s suggestion to Avery. He’d expected his old friend would want to take down the papermancers and their accomplice, that he wouldn’t want to go back home empty handed, not after they risked everything to follow them here. He’d thought that was the whole purpose of jumping off that wall, following the little flashing light through the dark of the ruins, to capture and arrest a papermancer. Coming back with even one of the group would make Elm a hero to the city, let alone all three of them. He’d be a legend, even Avery knew that much. They still taught the bravery of the last man to capture a papermancer in their city/ and that was well over a decade ago. The only news from other cities that made it across the wastes was when papermancers were apprehended and eliminated.
“We could no more send an inkwell after you than you could send one after us.” Nebulous caught everyone off guard when he spoke, drifting in from the hallway like a scrap of paper on the breeze. His lips were set in an amused line, as if he found all of this humorous instead of worrisome. He didn’t sit, rather he perched upon the edge of a table, watching the trio for a moment before he realized his statement needed more explanation. “Inkwells are not a papermancer construct.”
“Do you think we were born yesterday? Of course they are.” Elm sounded more confused than annoyed by the peculiar declaration from the eldest in the room.
“They are not. How many inkwells roam the wastes? How many papermancers are there? Most were killed decades ago, dozens at a time. There would have to be hundreds still living outside of the cities for them to create so many of those monsters. No. Inkwells are not a papermancer creation.” With a wave of his hand, Nebulous brushed off the protests from both Elm and Patrin. Avery squirmed a little in his seat, it made sense to him, at least when it came to the numbers mentioned. There were places in the wastes that were overrun with inkwells, so many that caravans couldn’t pass through them until the swarms had moved on. One year, there had been a fair forced to remain in the city for almost a full month because the roads they needed to use were so overrun with monsters that it was unsafe to even attempt to travel around them.
“But what are they?” Avery was the one to ask the question, ignoring the murmurs from his friend not to feed into the falsehood.
“They are magic gone wrong, magic that had taken over and consumed its user.” Nebulous grew solemn as he spoke, smile fading as his eyes grew distant, watching a memory only he could recall. “That ink beneath the skin is volatile. Give it an inch and it will take a mile and then it will take you.”
“Inkmages? You want us to believe that inkwells are inkmages?” It was Patrin who sounded his disbelief, shaking his head at the man who’d taken him under his wing years ago. “No way.”
-
The silence after the accusation was thick, even breathing felt like it was disturbing the air around them. Nebulous’ expression was serious, eyes cold and distant as if he were looking at a world far away, shrugging his shoulders ever so slightly before he replied. “I watched it. My best friend was taken right before my eyes. But I cannot force you to believe the truth.”
The papermancer seemed done with the conversation, pausing in the doorway to add one last statement, far less heavy than the last. “Elm, Avery, please stay for the day, recover your strength. We can escort you back to the city if that is truly what you desire.”
Patrin grumbled about the papermancer’s ever shifting mood, mumbling to himself his disbelief. He at least looked a little better when he got to his feet, declaring it time for a nap. They had walked most of the night into the morning, all of them were exhausted after finally having a moment to rest. He vanished into the heart of the house in search of his sibling who had gone to sleep before Elm had left for a walk. Even with the sunlight streaming in through glass and leaves Avery could feel that his body yearned for sleep. He wasn’t able to hide the yawn that escaped him once the pair of old friends were alone once more.
“They said there was another guest room right? As much as I’d like to get home, they’re right about needing sleep. Let’s see if we can find it?” Elm’s tone had softened considerably from his conversation just a few minutes earlier, offering Avery a hand up when he’d pushed himself off of the deceptively comfortable couch. The cottage had a cozy, welcoming air about it that Avery was fond of, even if it did seemling belong to a criminal. He steadied himself against Elm, sleep threatening to take him even as he stood. He’d been about ready to sit down again, to declare the couch his bed for the night when the sound of rustling paper caught both of their attentions.
A paper crane hovered in the air, its flapping wings more for show than for use. It bobbed and swayed with even the slightest shift in the breeze, moving closer until it wasn’t more than an arm’s length away. When it was clear it ad both gazes upon it, the little paper bird started to move again, acting as a guide as it lead them up a small set of stairs, past a closed door only to float in front of another. When Elm pushed the door open just a crack the bird slipped inside, settling on an end table there, the magic slipping from its folds. By the time Avery had crossed the room to pick it up, it was just a scrap of paper again, much like the one he’d stored for so long though this paper was newer, less worn than his former token. He didn’t need Elm to help him up onto the bed, but he did make a sound when his friend turned to leave the room.
“No. This bed is huge. Take the other side. You can keep an eye out for us both in here.” Avery appealed to his ear desire to keep watch, rolling over so that his friend could take the side closest to the door. He hoped however, that once Elm had sat down he too would find himself secumming to sleep. The wrinkles of his face told of his need to sleep, even if he would deny it to the end and truthfully Avery was a little scared to be alone here. His whole world had turned itself upside down in the span of an evening and he wanted the familiar face to help keep him grounded. Elm gave into the demand, taking the edge of the bed that had been relinquished for him, offering a smile that Avery was too tired to return. Finally slumber won the fight, dragging Avery down into the deepest sleep of his life.
It was a relief to Avery when he woke up to find his friend still laying next to him, snoring softly. The man didn’t flinch, the rhythm of his breath not changing when Avery rolled away from him, removing the wayward limbs that had curled around Elm’s back. He slipped to his feet, stretching his arms to the sky, enjoying the subtle ache of it. The sun was still out, though it had clearly moved in the sky, no longer shining into the window directly. Pausing a moment, he enjoyed the beauty of the view. Avery had never seen anything so full of life, not even the bustling streets of the city could compare to the sounds of bird calls amidst the thick foliage. He could watch the way the wind passed through the leaves for hours, almost losing himself to the trance of it before his curiosity took hold again.
Now seemed like the perfect time to explore the cottage, he couldn’t hear anyone else moving outside of the room, they were probably all still sleeping, recovering from the excitement of the day. He was at the door before he noticed that the little paper crane that had guided them to their room was gone, nothing left behind to indicate it was ever there. A melancholy wave moved through him for a moment, settling in his stomach as his fingers slipped into pockets that were empty for the first time in years. The origami creature that had been his token for so long was gone and he would miss its companionship through all of his most private moments. It almost didn’t feel strange to know that it had held a part of Nebulous within it for so long, the little crane had become a friend in its own way. Avery would miss that.
Despite the apparent age of the cottage, the floorboards didn’t squeak as he tiptoed through the hallways. Even the stairs were silent as he creeped down them, wide awake despite how little he’d actually slept.
The place felt warm, rugs with worn corners and couches with faded print made the place feel lived in, like a home. It reminded him of the home he’d shared with his parents, before the work transfer had moved his dad away, then his mother once Avery was old enough to live on his own. He’d relished the independence but it was still nice revisit the feeling of a home like this. He wandered through a kitchen with the kettle still on the counter from the tea mde last night back to the living room where he curled up onto the couch again.
From here he could peer out the window, watch the world through the trees again. It was so bright and lovely, so peaceful after the excitement of the night before. A floorboard squeaked from the kitchen, the first sound the house had made and Avery was fairly certain it was a deliberate one. When he turned to see the source it was Nebulous, gliding into the room, feet barely touching the floor. He must have made the sound as to not startle Avery, perching on the arm of the couch just as noiselessly. Nothing was said for a moment, Nebulous just turned to glance out the window as well, subtle smile on his face.
“Thank you for bringing me back here. The wastes can be treacherous.”
“It felt right but I admit I had no idea I was bringing you here. I just… couldn’t turn away from the adventure.” Avery felt a little out of place, a little ordinary in the shadow of all of the papermancers and inkmages here. It felt wrong to accept thanks for something he could not have done alone, for something he didn’t even know he was doing.
Nebulous shrugged a little, a movement that barely caused a ripple in his sweater, sleeves smoothing as soon as he settled. “I knew you’d answer the call eventually. Are you leaving with your friend?”
“Yes. I suspect he’ll want to go as soon as he wakes up.”
“Please reconsider. If you stay I can teach you.” Nebulous caught his guest off guard, his dark eyes staring at Avery. “Haven’t you always wanted to learn?”
“Learn what? I thought you said ink magic was dangerous?”
“Ink? No. I would never teach that.” Nebulous wrinkled his nose a little, disgusted by the very idea. “Papermancy. Haven’t you always wanted to learn?”
“I’m no papermancer. I couldn’t. I’ve been tested, so many times.”
“Not everyone exhibits the same signs. Not everyone can do the same tricks, though their tests usually do catch a beginner. I can feel it in you, the magic is there Avery.” Nebulous held out a hand, a small folded up star drifted between them to bump against Avery’s chest. It landed on the hand that reached up for it, unfolding itself quickly to leave itself as just a thin strip of paper. “But the core of any part of papermancy, is knowing it will do as you want it to, that it can become more than just paper. Why don’t you try refolding it.”
Nebulous nodded gently in the direction of Avery’s hands, saying nothing about the tremble that was obvious in his fingers. His heart was racing, leaving him lightheaded as he stared at the bit of paper in his hand. It was unassuming, smooth and free of any wrinkles it should have had. Carefully, as if it might fall apart if he moved too quickly, Avery ran his thumb over the surface. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself while he closed his eyes, picturing how it had come apart against his palm. When he was certain he understood how the folds had worked he shifted, starting to tie a knot in the strip to act as the base. He’d not even managed to get the end through the loop before a cool hand stopped him, pressed against his fingers.
“Not like that. Close your eyes again, picture it folding itself up, without the use of your hands. Let the paper create the shape you want of it.” Nebulous’ voice was soft, not chiding him for the mistake, instead coaxing him in the right direction.
Avery nodded, swallowing although his mouth was dry and his tongue felt too thick. He closed his eyes, fingers still trembling just a little as he tried to do as he was instructed. In his mind he saw the paper folding itself, tied into a knot before it rolled itself up, corners pinching to become a star once more. He replayed the action slowly, focusing on each detail as closely as he could. Beads of sweat formed along his temples, head starting to ache as he replayed it again and again but when he finally peeled open his eyes again and looked down at his hands he found the paper still laying there, thin strip in the exact same position as it had been. Again he squeezed his eyes together and tried, struggling not to ball up his fists with the concentration. That would only damage the paper and keep it from listening to the magic he supposedly had. Still the paper hadn’t moved and when he opened his eyes they burned with tears he refused to shed.
“I told you. I can’t.” Avery’s voice was heavy with his disappointment, thrusting the bit of paper back towards the source of the feeling. He’d not entertained the notion of papermancy since he was a young boy and even then it had been a fleeting daydream that he’d known could never be true. How many tests did he need to fail to prove that to the rest of the world?
“Perhaps this is just not the right method.” There was just as much disappointment in Nebulous’ voice though he was trying to mask it with kind words. His face couldn’t hide his thoughts this time, telling Avery that there would never be a right method as he’d suspected. The strip of paper fluttered up from the waiting palms, disappearing past the cuff of Nebulous’ shirt. The man stood, distancing himself from his failed pupil, refusing to meet his gaze now. “Just remember, paper can be willed into the magic.”
Nebulous didn’t care to explain himself further than that, vanishing deeper into the cottage with feet that made no sound. Avery was felt with his thoughts, a prospect that filled him with more unease than he would have liked. He rose to his feet, shuffling back towards the stairs up to the room he’d slept in. His sense of adventure and curiosity had gone, replaced with a growing headache that pressed in on his temples. Elm was still sound asleep, barely moving when Avery climbed back into bed, curling up along the edge as much as he could. Closing his eyes he tried to will the memory away, to pretend that it was just a dream. At least his failure was a secret between himself and the mysterious papermancer.
It was late in the afternoon when Elm finally woke, Avery following suit when he felt the movement. Little was said at they prepared themselves to leave, beyond a declaration from Patrin and Leander that they were going to walk them to the ruin’s edge. Even between the siblings there was little said, everyone a little groggy from the peculiar sleep times they’d subjected themselves to. Avery was fairly certain it would be well after nightfall before they would reach the wall but that was fine. They could use the cover of darkness to sneak back into the city no questions asked. It was only the idea of what the ruin’s’ shadows could be hiding that left Avery nervous about the journey.
His legs ached as they got started, muscles protesting the long walk they’d taken already. He grit his teeth against the feeling, trying to ignore it, he was the only one that seemed winded. There was no adrenaline to fuel him this time, only the feeling that he was empty, losing something that was never his in the first place. His pocket felt light when he pressed it to his leg, no crinkle of paper, no token there to bring him luck. He was glad he was the one trailing behind, not sure how he would explain the mixture of emotions that passed over his face.
“Everyone stop and shut up.” Elm had been in the lead, freezing so quickly Leander nearly ran headfirst into him. The inkmage held up a hand, concentration clear on his face as he strained to hear whatever had caused this disruption in the first place. The silence dragged on and Avery rested a hand on Patrin’s shoulder. About halfway through their travel he’d slowed down considerably, hanging back with Avery, face pale as it had been the night before. He’d shrugged off the man’s concern, saying he was only tired from all the exercise. Now he watched the inkmage leading their group, breathing hard.
“What is it?” Avery whispered his question, afraid to draw attention to himself but unable to wait any longer.
“I thought I heard something. We can keep going.” Elm looked relieved, they all knew the nature of the dangerous out here. They’d only managed to take a few steps when Elm stopped again, eyes wide. “Run!”
The command had triggered the inkwell that had been slinking up the hillside beside them to leap, ink dripping in its wake. This one was just as formless as the last, an ever shifting mass of darkness though there was one major difference. Every so often the surface would dry and crack, splitting to show a heated, molten core within. Where its limbs met with the ground, there was smoke and the smell of fire. None of them needed another prompt, four pairs of feet scrambling to get moving, sliding on the dry ground as they fought for purchase. The monster behind them hurled bits of itself towards them, hissing and splattering where it hit the ground. One projectile landed between them, splitting them into pairs as they raced for the ruins, for any kind of shelter they could manage.
Avery and Patrin lost sight of Elm and Leander once they made it past the first few crumbling walls. They’d lost sight of the monster as well, a few random twists and turns down what must have once been streets throwing the beast off. The pair found a building that was still intact enough to have a roof that was once just the floor above it, cracked windows not yet shattered into pieces. They used the makeshift shelter to catch their breath, hiding as deep within as they could manage, slumping to the floor, ignore the mess of it.
Avery finally felt his pulse slowing, his breathing steady when he realized that Patrin was not having the same luck, the man gasped, sweating profusely as he tugged at his shirt, trying to pull it away from his neck. Ignoring the bits of rubble and rock that dug into his knees, he crawled over to the inkmage. He swallowed his panic, helping the man tug off his shirt, trying to help him breath but without the fabric Avery could see the problem. The lizard tattoo that he’d used the night before was much bigger now, running back and forth across his chest and back. It was wild and out of control, like a caged animal, leaving a trail of ink in its wake.
-
It was then that they were found by the rest of their group, both of them out of breath as they crossed the room. Leander let out a cry when they spotted the position their brother was in, exposed and shaking, ink trails slowly spreading like a wet drop on a page. Their words were barely more than mumbles, clinging to Patrin desperately. Elm just knelt next to Avery, resting a hand on his shoulder as if to offer some comfort though there was nothing that could be said now to make any of them feel any better. Avery covered the large hand with his own squeezing fingers gently for a moment before an idea wormed its way into his thoughts.
“Leander. Leander, try and draw out the ink with paper?” Avery’s voice cracked and he realized how ridiculous his plan sounded. The papermancer just looked at him with confusion, shaking their head, mouth forming words that could not be heard. “Nebulous… Nebulous said that you just have to will the paper to do it. You can do it, draw it out?”
“Avery, I can’t… I can’t do anything like that. I need my paper to have a purpose. Like, the cards, or a drawn pair of glasses or something already on it. I can’t just will paper to do whatever I want.” Leander’s voice had more than cracked, it was completely strained, fighting against tears.
“Just… just try. I don’t think we can move him like this. Nebulous was right about inkwells.” Elm was right, Patrin groaned, the sound shifting to something more guttural as he twisted against the wall. The illegal inkmage had gone so pale that the ink along his skin looked far more alarming, blooms of black. Leander protested again but fished out a slightly crumpled piece of paper from the small bag they’d been carrying. They set the paper against the worst of it on their brother’s belly, the lizard tattoo itself crawling away from the edges of it. Leander looked as desperate at they all felt as they closed their eyes to concentrate. Long minutes passed before they voiced their frustration pulling their hands away, their tears finally rolling down red cheeks.
“I can’t. I never could. If Nebulous told you, you do it.” They grabbed Avery’s hands as they spoke, shoving them on top of the paper, the sound of it wrinkling beneath his palms too loud in the small space. Their hold on his wrists was surprisingly tight, try as he might he couldn’t pull away from them.
“Leander, I’m not a papermancer. I can’t. You have that gift you can do it.” Avery was close to crying himself, the stress of it all starting to pile up. He couldn’t help the pair of siblings, no matter how much they begged him.
“Just try. Please. Avery, for Patrin. For me. For Nebulous. Please.”
Avery couldn’t refuse that, even if he knew that this was pointless. What harm would it do to close his eyes and just try? They were running out of options, Patrin’s fingers were stained dark now, the colour bleeding up to his forearm, the tips of them shining as if wet. With a breath that shook he closed his eyes, trying to imagine that the paper was magnetic to the ink, that the rogue magic would be drawn to its blank surface. He tried to picture how the centre would get dark first, edges fuzzy as the colour spread, ever moving until the paper was nothing but a black sheet, leaving the skin beneath free of any of the tainted magic. The lizard that caused all of the trouble would finally make its way to the paper and crawl within it, caged in the prison of paper. He pictured it over and over again, as he had with the star until finally his head ached too much to keep going, opening his eyes at the sound of a groan.
There was a silence that stole away Avery’s voice when he finally understood what it was that he was seeing. The once white paper was black, slipping off Patrin’s stomach to the floor, revealing skin free of ink patches. There was still the pendulum and tarot card tattoos but there was no hint of the lizard now, nothing but the memory of it. Patrin’s breathing was still fairly ragged but it was less laboured, his eyes focusing on the trio hovered over him instead of glassy and far off. Elm’s hand had fallen off of Avery’s shoulder, a space between them now that hadn’t been there before, his expression somewhere between awestruck and accusatory. It was only Leander who spoke, praising anything they could mange for the return of their brother.
“I think…” Patrin was back in his shirt, leaning on their sibling at the mouth of the ruin when Elm finally spoke to his childhood friend again. “You should go back with them, learn from Nebulous.”
“Elm I… I’m not a papermancer, I don’t know what happened. I just want to go home and sleep.” Avery was exhausted by the miracle he was still skeptical had come from his own hands. He was so close to home, they could see bits and pieces of the wall from where they stood.
“I don’t know what happened either Avery but I think you need to go back with them and figure it out. Learn. We’ll meet again one day but if you step into the city, I have a duty to follow.” Elm’s tone was hollow but his threat was real enough. The man didn’t give Avery a chance to argue, he pulled him into a tight hug, kissing his cheek before he stormed off into the dangerous ruins. Avery stood there, watching the space the inkwell had been long after he vanished until Patrin called out his name. with a head full of adventure and a heart full of ache he joined them, ready to see what his future would hold.
-
It had been almost year since Avery had joined Patrin and Leander with their mentor out in the heart of the wastes. The art of papermancy had still proven to be beyond his grasp, No matter what tricks he tried he was unable to breathe life into the smooth surface what seemed like a lifetime ago. He’d come to accept it, even without magic flowing freely through his veins he couldn't’ imagine returning to his life within the city, any city. e knew of the truth of inkwells and he was more than driven to help Nebulous in his search for a cure for inkwells. Patrin’s tattoos had settled since the incident but he was also scared to use them for fear of waking up that power once more.
Avery was out gathering in the woods. As it turned out inkwells didn’t particularly like the wooded areas of the wastes, they chose to stay in the ruins, trying to climb back into the city they came from, driven by a blind desire. The scariest part of the formless monsters was that it was unclear as to what they truly wanted other than to cause mindless destruction. There were plenty of alarm systems put into place along the outside of their foraging area, it would keep them safe as long as they kept their ears open and they didn’t wander too close to the edges. Avery was usually very good about watching for the markers but he was a little distracted, thinking about some sigils he’s read about only a few nights before, still trying to figure out if they could piece together something to act as a barrier for the ink. It wasn’t until he heard the rustling of paper and the crunch of feet that he realized how close he was to an alarm that had been tripped.
He wasn’t completely defenseless, his hand resting on the hilt of a small knife he carried on his belt. Freezing in place his eyes scanned the treeline, hoping that it was an errant runaway not an inkwell. A blade would do nothing against their inky flesh.
“You gonna stab an old friend?”
Elm broke through the tree line, pulling Avery into a hug before he could let go of his weapon. He was crushed against the man’s chest, only able to return the hug when his grip loosened. The pair looked each other over, taking in what the months had changed. Now Elm’s roots and branches had spread so far the tips of them touched his cheeks and the backs of his hands. Elm let out a soft laugh that lacked humour when he saw the direction of his old friend’s gaze.
“I don’t need saving from anything but the city’s lies Avery. just came to see if there’s room in there still for another person.”
“Well, why don’t we go ask.” Avery hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed his old friend until he saw the smile touching his eyes once more. He took his hand without another word and led him back to the cottage that had changed all of their lives forever.
No comments:
Post a Comment