《The Black Briar Library (A World Hopping Library RPG)》 Book (0), The Prologue To A Thousand Stories Book (0), The Prologue To A Thousand Stories --- ??? --- Books of all shapes, sizes, and colors lay upon the atrium¡¯s gray tile floors, and where they don¡¯t lay on the floor they are carefully placed upon towering black bookshelves with rose vines lovingly carved into them. A light shines through the atrium, filling in everything with color despite the fact that there is no visible source for it, and the shadows linger in such a way that the direction they come from cannot be determined. Just past this light exists a foggy darkness where anything can linger and lurk, a shifting of shadows stating quite clearly that something is doing just that. That something¡¯s eyes stare for but a moment before disappearing. ¡°Hello there!¡± A cheery voice greeted, revealing a young dark haired woman that had most certainly not been there just a few seconds prior. ¡°You¡¯re looking a little¡­ lost, is there something I can do to help you?¡± The young woman waits for an answer, but none comes forth. ¡°Ah, I see¡­ You¡¯re dreaming not Dreaming¡­¡± The young woman frowned, looking a little disappointed, a look that slowly shifted into curiosity. ¡°If you¡¯re not a guest, then I wonder how you wandered into here?¡±If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Once more there was no answer to the young woman¡¯s question, but this time she was significantly less concerned by this fact. ¡°You must really like reading if you made it here¡­ Hmm¡­¡± The young woman crossed her arms and began tapping her head while mumbling, ¡°Thinking¡­ Thinking¡­ Thinking¡­¡± The young woman¡¯s eyes suddenly burst open as she grew an excited smile. ¡°Oh! That¡¯s an idea! Hold on just one moment please!¡± With that request stated, the young woman ran off, disappearing into the darkness just past the atrium¡¯s lights. ¡°Here you are!¡± The young woman called from behind, appearing opposite the direction she¡¯d left via not one second later with a flyer in hand. ¡°I know you can¡¯t really answer me right now because you''re just dreaming, but I figured if you¡¯re here then that means you must really like stories! And well I could really use a bit more help around here¡­ so if you want maybe you could think about working here at the library where you can get as many stories as you want! Maybe, if you want, pretty please?¡± The young woman held the flyer out for a moment, the words upon it a jumbled mess, before hitting her knuckles on her head. ¡°Oh right, of course you can¡¯t read the flyer humans can¡¯t read in their dreams¡­¡± She sighed, before mumbling a quiet, ¡°I always forget that¡­¡± Not letting this miscalculation get her down, the young woman coughed into her hand. ¡°Alright, well since I can¡¯t really hand this to you now, I¡¯ll send it to you! The library¡¯s delivery boy, is the goodest boi in all of the Black Briar!¡± The young woman gave an embarrassed look. ¡°I just, uh, need to figure out who you are first¡­¡± Book (I) The Remnant of Gregory Fischer, Prologue: A Magical Job Offer Book (I) The Remnant of Gregory Fischer, Prologue: A Magical Job Offer --- Gregory Fischer --- Slowly his eyes opened up as he dragged his dazed mind from the delightful depth of dreams that he¡¯d been a part of and back into the world he was sadly more familiar with. Despite being awake however he found himself laying on his mattress for another thirty minutes, his exhausted body wishing to fall back asleep even as his mind forced him to stay awake in spite of the ache behind his eyes. Eventually a mix of his various morning needs was enough to get him to reluctantly roll out of bed to start taking care of them with a trip to the bathroom and a cold shower. Stepping out of the shower he pulled on a pair of half faded jeans, a white button up, and to at least pretend he was capable of being an adult a black vest before slipping on his glasses and taking a look at his reflection. A thirty-something man with brown stubble on his face and rings around brown eyes looked back at him with an exhausted grimace as he tied his shoulder length hair into a ponytail, the most effort he could put into his grooming today. Pushed on by a hollowness in his stomach he made his way to his kitchen before throwing a couple slices of leftover pizza in the microwave for breakfast. The paper plate went into the trash because actual plates were too much work to clean, and the paper ones were cheap. With all of that taken care of he stepped out of his spartan white apartment filled with used brown furniture and a couple of overflowing bookshelves, before making his way downstairs to the small repair shop below. ¡°Finally up?¡± Toni asked, the mechanic looking up from where she was tinkering away at a metal cylinder. ¡°Was starting to think I was going to have to drag you out.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ not today.¡± He grimaced, running a hand through his hair as he reached for the cigarettes in his pocket. Toni spun around in her chair before giving him a once over with her hazel eyes. ¡°Well at least your clothes are clean today.¡± ¡°Look who¡¯s talking.¡± He scoffed, flicking his fingers towards her oil stained overalls as he lit his cigarette. ¡°The difference is that this is a work outfit.¡± Toni scoffed right back, before pulling out the scrunchy she was using to hold her long ginger hair out of her way. ¡°Also I got something for you in the mail.¡± ¡°I got mail?¡± He asked in confusion since the only person who knew where he lived was Toni and he just gave her all of his money since the building and everything in it was in her name. ¡°Yeah, a job offer.¡± His one friend told him as she offered him an envelope from her desk before seeing his face. ¡°It¡¯s not the usual kind, it¡¯s for a library or some shit.¡± ¡°A library?¡± He repeated, not with interest but with much less hostility than his normal reaction to a ¡®job offer¡¯ as he opened the envelope, uncaring that Toni had already read it. (Dearest Guest Gregory Fischer, Having caught our interest as a loyal guest, we at the Black Briar Library would like to invite you in aiding us in the preservation and distribution of stories from across creation. Should you be interested in this offer, please go to your preferred library promptly for a face to face interview where you can inquire any details you desire. Sincerely The Head Librarian, Briar Black.) ¡°This isn¡¯t from the local library, and that¡¯s the only one I actually visit.¡± He frowned, getting the feeling that this was going to be more like his usual ¡®jobs¡¯ than he wanted as he eyed the emblem of a black rose surrounded by black thorns at the bottom. ¡°Sounds like it¡¯s for some kind of literary preservation group or something, figure it shouldn¡¯t be too dangerous if it involves books.¡± Toni shrugged as she watched him. ¡°Depends on the books.¡± He grumbled, scratching at the stubble on his neck as he tried to remember where he¡¯d heard of this ¡®Black Briar Library¡¯ before. ¡°You sure you¡¯ve never heard of this group before? Because I can swear I have, I just can¡¯t place where.¡± ¡°Maybe you heard about them at the actual library? You spend enough time there.¡± Toni pointed out. He didn¡¯t think that was it but, ¡°Maybe¡­¡± ¡°You going to look into it?¡± Toni asked with a careful neutrality that covered up both her concern and frustration to everyone but him, and that was only because he knew it could be there. ¡°I needed to get some new books anyway.¡± He sighed, because usually the library and its books were an escape from his work and all the other troubles he had with the real world. Mixing the two left a distinctly bad taste in his mouth that his cigarettes couldn¡¯t quite overcome.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°Good.¡± Toni nodded before putting her hair back into a ponytail as she went back to her work. ¡°If you do accept their job, be sure to stop back here before you go anywhere else.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not an idiot.¡± He scoffed as he started towards the shop¡¯s backdoor, not really ready to deal with the people that would be cluttering the main street just yet. ¡°Yes you are!¡± His only friend called after him. Once out on the streets he found himself taking an instinctively long drag of his cigarette, the chemicals within soothing the rampant nerves he got whenever he had to leave one of the two places he actually felt comfortable. (At least the back alley isn¡¯t as overcrowded as the main street¡­) Not that that made him feel any better as he could still hear the hustle and bustle right around the corner and that brought him a whole other kind of anxiety, even if he preferred the anxiety of the unknown to the anxiety of people. A quantity that was nowhere near unknown. The fact that it took him two more cigarettes to actually get moving was part of why he¡¯d taken the backdoor rather than the front, because Toni -in her well meaning if blunt way- would¡¯ve forced him to get moving after the first if she knew he was still lingering. (Going to need to get more soon¡­) He frowned, realizing he was already half-way down his last pack, the skull marked carton only having a handful of the white sticks left. (Might need to accept this job just to pay for them¡­) With a sigh he stuffed the carton back into his pocket and started making his way towards the library, his eyes focused upward towards the numerous tall buildings that made up the cramped city streets, watching the dark gray smoke coming from his cigarette rather than the people that were around him. More than aware that if he focused on them he¡¯d end up stressing himself out far worse as he played numerous possibilities and impossibilities out in his head. The hike to the library was a long one that took him over an hour to make, a time he could easily half twice over if he was willing to take a bus but¡­ (That many people in that small of a space with me is¡­ it¡¯s just a bad idea¡­) And so after an hour of taking as many backstreet and sidealley shortcuts as he could -both to get there at a half-way decent time and to avoid the crowds- as well as killing three more cigarettes, he found himself staring up at the steps to the city library. His only real sanctuary outside of Toni¡¯s shop. Making his way up the steps, he found once more that in spite of the large amount of foot traffic on the road proper he was the only one actually going into the library. (Something about how people would far prefer to simply read on dataslates and similar than to read actual books.) Even Toni thought his preference for an actual book in his hands was odd, mostly keeping her mouth shut since it was one of the few things he was actually willing to leave the house for. Sometimes with a drop of enthusiasm even. And so like many times before he stepped into the library, savoring the way the marble walls dampened the sound from the bustling city surrounding them. (Wait¡­) His eyes darted around the library he stepped into, because unlike the small one he was almost intimately familiar with, this one was far grander. The smaller library¡¯s warm browns and bright whites had been replaced by cool gray and dark black as the atrium stood a dozen times larger and with a hundred times as many books as the library he was used to. The door clicked shut behind him as he¡¯d carelessly let it hundreds of times before, only sounding significantly more ominous and final with the way it echoed through the building. ¡°Shit!¡± He cursed before rushing back and forcing the door open, afraid he¡¯d¡­ find the library steps that he¡¯d just walked up and the rest of the city as busy as it ever was. (Fuck¡­) He grimaced, realizing he was having one of his episodes, before turning back to the library and¡­ finding that it was still the dark library he¡¯d walked into and not some kind of hallucination. ¡°The hell?¡± Blinking, he stepped outside before closing the door and opening it once more to find the scene unchanged. ¡°Okay¡­¡± Taking a few steps back he gave the outside of the library a once over and noted how the building was definitely incapable of containing the one he¡¯d seen. (Not that means much given some of the things I¡¯ve seen¡­) He once more stepped into the library before doing the (stupidly suicidal) thing and closing the door behind him. After counting to ten, he opened the door once more and saw that he was still able to leave and go back to the city if he wanted to. Meaning that he wasn¡¯t trapped here, (or that whoever set this up can¡¯t kill it on demand¡­) Ignoring his paranoia he left the door open as he made his way into the library, his eyes darting around trying to take in every detail to figure out what was going on, before pausing as he noticed the image of a large black rose surrounded by black thorns on the floor. ¡°The Black Briar Library¡­¡± He realized upon matching the insignia with his surroundings. He took another look around the massive shelves, his eyes briefly focusing on the shadowy patches of darkness between them where he could swear he saw something move before moving on. (Definitely not an ordinary library¡­) This wasn¡¯t the weirdest thing he¡¯d ever seen in his line of work, but it was getting up there, if in presentation alone. ¡°Hello?¡± He eventually called as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the folded up letter Toni had given him. ¡°My name is Gregory Fischer and I was given this letter about a job offer!¡± There were a series of thumps behind him. He turned around swiftly, his hands half raised into a stance before noticing a trio of pillars standing in a quarter circle each with a medium sized book on it. Cautiously he approached the pillars and once he was close enough to read their covers he couldn¡¯t help but scoff, ¡°Putting my name on a bunch of books¡­ real cute.¡± The fact that he could see himself using these titles for books about him was only mildly unnerving, the fact that he could take a guess at the subject matter of each book based on the titles was the thing that really bothered him. He blinked as a white page fluttered in front of him carried by a breeze he couldn¡¯t feel. Snatching the page out of the air he read, (The interview has begun, Please Select A Book.) He inhaled before exhaling. (I knew this was going to be a pain in the ass¡­) Book I: The Remnant of Gregory Fischer, Chapter I: A Story Past Book I: The Remnant of Gregory Fischer, Chapter I --- Gregory Fischer --- Deciding that this wasn¡¯t the weirdest interview he¡¯d been through given his current profession, he looked the books over once more while re-reading the titles in what he knew was chronological order. (The Flames of War¡­ No, don¡¯t want anything to do with that again. Smoke of War¡­ I¡­ I don¡¯t think I want to know how much they know about that¡­) Which left him with the third and final book, the one that he knew represented the current state of his life, (Ashes of War, the Remnant of Gregory Fischer¡­) The moment he took the book off the pillar, the other two books disappeared in a brief flash of light, so small that he¡¯d think it a trick of his mind if he didn¡¯t know better. He looked around the empty library before sighing as he realized this ¡®test¡¯ wouldn¡¯t be over until he actually read the book he¡¯d chosen. With no small amount of reluctance he opened the book¡¯s cover before it sprung open on its own, numerous pages flipping across, far more than could actually be contained in a book that could fit in one hand. As these pages flipped with an ever growing speed, some of them managed to escape their bindings and flutter through the air, soon followed by more and more until he was completely surrounded by a veritable storm of paper flying through the air. ¡°Once upon a time, there was a soldier named Gregory Fischer.¡± An echoing voice said, the paper parting just enough to show a picture of him in his brown uniform saluting. ¡°Who¡¯s there?!¡± He yelled over the fluttering paper as the picture flew away. ¡°Gregory was a good little soldier who followed orders, no matter how much he hated them.¡± The voice continued as the paper parted once more to show him standing over a street littered in bodies flames eating away at the edge. ¡°Who the fuck are you?!¡± He cried, his mind unable to help but wonder if this was all some elaborate set-up of some kind. Pay back for the things he¡¯d done, the things he regretted. ¡°Until he was given an order he couldn¡¯t follow.¡± The pages parted once more to show him holding a file in his hand with a terrified look as he stood in front of a smiling man in a suit. A chill went down his spine as he realized what this was about. ¡°So he didn¡¯t.¡± The voice declared as it showed him burning the file from before. ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡± He admitted, steeling himself. ¡°And I don¡¯t regret it!¡± (If they¡¯re coming for me because of that¡­ then I¡¯ll deal with it.) ¡°The men he viewed as his brothers abandoned him for failing to follow his duty¡­¡± The voice continued uncaring for his words as it showed him sitting in a canteen by himself, a clear gap between him and everyone else. ¡°What¡­ what¡¯s the point of this?!¡± He asked the voice. ¡°Shame filled him¡­ Not because of the order he rejected, but because of all those he didn¡¯t¡­¡± An image of him clutching his head while surrounded by smoke appeared, the smoke parting just long enough to see things he¡¯d rather not remember. ¡°Why are you doing this?!¡± He pleaded, closing his eyes as he couldn¡¯t bear to see anymore reminders of his sins. ¡°Unable to do the job he was made for, they threw him out onto the streets¡­ A broken burned out husk of the man he once was¡­¡± ¡°Shut up, shut up. Shut up!¡± He begged, eyes shut to hold in the tears and hands over his ears to block out the words. ¡°This is where our story will begin.¡± His eyes shot open as he glared upwards, ¡°What sto-ry¡­¡± (W-what?) He blinked, finding himself back in his room, the library and the pages from before nowhere to be seen. (Was¡­ was that all just a nightmare?) He shifted before frowning as he realized he was still dressed in his clothes, clothes he could not fall asleep in since the collar would always choke him, reminding him of when- (Don¡¯t think about it.) On guard he took a look around his room before finding several oddities, the most notable being how his walls were made of blank white pages. (No, that¡¯s not right¡­ The pages have something written on them¡­) He got up from his bed and made his way to the wall where he ran his fingers over the pages and noted how the script, while visible enough to see, looked as if it had been written and then erased. The words too faded for him to actually make anything out. ¡°I¡¯m still in the library¡­¡± He realized with a frown before taking another look around. The book was on his bed. He swallowed down his apprehensions before making his way over and cautiously inspected the only real clue to whatever was happening to him. (The name ¡®s changed¡­) Instead of reading ¡®Ashes of War, The Remnant of Gregory Fischer¡¯ the book¡¯s title had changed to ¡®Gregory Fischer, The Black Briar Librarian¡¯. ¡°Not if this is what I¡¯m going to be dealing with.¡± He scoffed, hoping the voice or whoever was running this shit show heard him. Knowing that there was only one way forward (since they didn¡¯t give me a door out of this room) he picked up the book. Not quite trusting the book, he opened the cover fully ready to throw the book away from him, but unlike what he expected, this book did not force itself open and start spewing another storm of script into the air. The only thing he found behind the cover was a dedication of sorts.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. (For Gregory Fischer, The Man Who Burned So Others Wouldn¡¯t Have To.) The scars on his arm ached, as he felt something in those words¡­ ¡°So that¡¯s what this is¡­¡± He huffed, not sure how he felt about¡­ any of this. Instead of dealing with any of that, he ignored the knot in his chest and turned the page to the table of contents. The table of contents was divided into five sections: Synopsis, Current Story, Volumes Collected, Personal Library, and Working Draft. Under each of these sections were several more chapters, though the actual names of said chapters were illegibly written in a script that almost seemed to move across the page. The exception being Ashes of War under Working Draft. (Okay¡­ Now the question is what any of this means¡­) He flipped a few pages, landing himself in the Synopsis where- (A scream tore loose from his throat, almost as loud as the roar of the flame that devoured his arm.) (Smoke flooded his lungs, choking him with every breath as he stumbled ever forward in pursuit of his goal.) (All around him ashes floated through the air, painting the world gray as they left him alone with the dead.) -he slammed the book shut, his heart pounding against his ribcage as if were trying to flee from the memories that had just been forced out from the depths of his mind. Desperate hands searched his pockets for his cigarette, before pulling one out and lighting it with a panicking fervor for any relief from the panic that consumed him. He inhaled deeply, the cherry burning bright before exhaling a cloud as dark as his terror. Once he felt something halfway resembling calm -a state that took him at least five more sticks- he turned his attention back to the (dangerous) book he¡¯d left on the book. Its closed cover innocently gazing up at him. He stared back at the book until his latest cigarette was nothing but ash, before with shaking hands he opened the book once more and stared at the word Synopsis. It took but a moment for him to realize what Synopsis really meant, (the Synopsis of Gregory Fischer¡­ My¡­ My entire life¡­) He may¡¯ve only seen a few brief glimpses of his past, but they were in such clarity it was as if he was reliving those moments. (Whatever magic makes this place up¡­ It¡¯s compressed my entire life into a single book¡­) Frightful eyes read over the table of contents with far more reverence, realizing that the page numbers for each section were made of the same moving script that made up the illegible chapter names. Taking a gamble, he put his thumb half way down the book before focusing on Current Story and flipping the book open once more. He couldn¡¯t help but flinch, expecting another deluge of traumatic memories as the book¡¯s contents were forced upon his mortal mind. When no such trauma came forth he took a cautious look at the page he¡¯d opened and found a detailed pen sketch of himself sitting at a desk while reading his book. Opposite this was more of the eldritch script from before, only this time he could parse through some of the contents as he read over what looked like a list of some kind counting or describing something. Given how his name was written across the bottom of the pen portrait he had a fairly decent idea what these things were in reference to, even if he had to guess what some of these words meant due to the eldritch magic plucking the closest word from his mind rather than explaining them. (¡°Species: Human, Genre: Sci-fi/Fantasy, Classification: Cyberpunk/Practitioner/Scrapper, Derivative Addendum: None.¡±) He wasn¡¯t entirely sure what all of that meant, but from what he could understand it was all sort of fitting with what he knew about himself. At the very least it was significantly easier to understand than everything else on the page as words were replaced with symbols that he could vaguely recognize. (Slash, Blunt, Pierce, Mind, Spirit, Fire, Ice, Electric, Light, and Darkness¡­ With a skull over Mind, a shield over Fire and Ice, and an equal sign over everything else¡­ So Mind is bad while Fire and Ice protect and everything else is even?) That didn¡¯t seem quite right, even if he could see an angle where he understood it. Beneath that odd assortment of symbols were a number of small squares, most of which were empty but a handful of which had small ink sketches similar to his own alongside what he was fairly certain was a page number in whatever eldritch script this book was using. He focused on the first symbol and flipped the pages, figuring the book would open to it just as it had to whatever this overview of himself constituted. When the pages stopped he found himself staring at another pen drawn image that he vaguely recognized as himself -if with the details blurred- performing a rather straightforward punch. On the opposite side was even more eldritch writing, though far less detailed and with far less information than the one that had been focused on his entirety. (¡°Opening Strike. Cost: 1 Blank Page. Blunt Melee. An opening strike to unleash greater combos, the foundation of something greater for all martial artists. A Quick Read for Scrappers, Bruisers, and Infiltrators.¡±) After reading that he reexamined the picture, before recognizing that the image was of the exact same punch his style of fighting used to engage his opponent while still being capable of flowing into any other set of strikes. (So¡­ the book is also dissecting my abilities?) He frowned before flipping back to the Current Story and seeing that he only seemed to have five as far as the book was concerned. Which was all kinds of wrong given how he had learned, developed, and mastered his style of fighting during the war. Just to prove that point he set the book back on his bed before attempting one of his more advanced combos and promptly stumbling through the final few motions. ¡°Okay¡­ maybe I¡¯m a little rustier than I thought¡­¡± He was sure his ¡®work¡¯ had kept his edge from dulling, (then again most of my jobs are pretty straightforward¡­ Never need to bring out anything really fancy¡­) With a frown his eyes glanced back at the book and the few skills he had that it recognized, before clenching his fists. He wasn¡¯t a prideful man by any measure, often thinking worse of himself than anyone else, but¡­ He let out a sigh, not entirely sure what the point of all this was. He already knew he was nothing more than a remnant of what he once was. (Isn¡¯t that what the first book underlined?) Deciding dwelling on his failings wasn¡¯t going to get him out of wherever he was he went back to inspecting the other sections of the book, only to find both Volumes Collected and Personal Library to be empty. The final section, the one labeled Working Draft, however had what could best be described as a brainstorming page with a central circle where ¡®Ashes of War¡¯ was written with a number of circles branching off from it. Above this central circle was one labeled Prologue and focusing on it caused him to remember the words the voice had told him during the storm of pages with perfect clarity as well as the images he¡¯d seen. An effect very similar to when he¡¯d tried to read his own Synopsis if not quite as powerful. Three other circles broke off from the central concept, each one with a few other words connected to them but rendered illegible due to the way the eldritch script moved across the page. These circles were labeled Act 1: Depression, Act 2: Opportunity, and Act 3: Rekindling. A series of events that made him more confident in his guess at just what the person orchestrating all of this wanted from him. He took another look around the copy of his room, fully aware that he was currently trapped in ¡®Act 1¡¯ and if he wanted out of this place he¡¯d have to work his way through all three acts somehow. (But how?) If he had to actually overcome his depression, then he might as well roll over and die given how long he¡¯d been battling that particular demon with no success. A loud thunk drew his attention behind him, where he found a small black pen colliding with his boot. With a frown he plucked the writing instrument from the ground before looking between it and the book in his hand. Namely the handful of blank spaces that remained untouched in spite of all the eldritch script dancing across the page. ¡°This¡­ is either a really good or a really bad idea¡­¡± The Remnant of Gregory Fischer, Chapter II: Following The Narrative Chosen Book I: The Remnant of Gregory Fischer, Chapter II: Following The Narrative Chosen --- Gregory Fischer --- He put the pen to the page and found his mind drawing a blank, as if all creative muse decided that now was the time to abandon him instead of aiding in his writing as requested. With a sigh he ran a hand through his hair before reaching for another cigarette, hoping that lighting the stick would light something in his imagination. And lo and behold it did¡­ Unfortunately, the single muse he¡¯d gotten apparently decided to be something of a smart ass as the only thing he could think to write as he finished off his latest cigarette was the fact that his story would probably end with ¡®Death by Cigarettes¡¯. As he wrote the final letter of that message he watched eldritch script begin to creep and crawl away from the words he¡¯d written, slowly consuming the entire page before spreading out into the very air around him. He watched the writing cautiously, waiting for it to do something, anything that might help him figure out how he was supposed to get out of this apartment. All around him the cloud of script began to condense into piles of discarded cigarette packs and buds, littering the room in a level of waste that (honestly isn¡¯t as bad as my worst.) (Okay, so writing something in the book causes something to happen around me.) He realized, waving a hand through the air to try and shoo away the cloud of script that was slowly consuming the illusion of his room. (I just need to figure out how to work this into an escape¡­) He inhaled before letting out a cough and covering his mouth with his shirt. (Damn, it¡¯s getting smoky in here¡­) Despite some of it being spent to add to the ever growing pile of cigarettes, the cloud of eldritch script seemed to continue growing. Something that he could have dealt with if not for the fact that the cloud almost seemed to be pursuing him as he backed away, making it harder and harder to breathe as he continued to cough. (What the hell? This isn¡¯t how smoke behaves¡­) He gasped, unable to help but bend over as the coughing grew bad enough that he ended up dropping both the book and the pen. In front of him the book didn¡¯t shift a single page even as it bounced twice and the pen went rolling under the bed. This was how he was reminded that he¡¯d written ¡®Death By Cigarettes¡¯ into the book. ¡°Ah, fu-cah!¡± He dropped to his knees, scrabbling for the pen, his breathing grew ever more painful and shallow with every cough that tore through his throat. Bit by bit his thoughts grew hazy as his hand blindly grasped around for the pen only to grasp onto empty cigarette packs and burned out butts. (Shit, shit, shit! Where is it? Where is it?!) The world around him grew darker and darker, half because of the ever growing cloud of writing and half because of the ever shrinking air in the room. His hand wrapped around something cold and hard, and with what strength was still in him he brought the pen to the book and began blindly scribbling away at the page, unable to form a thought coherent enough to actually write anything down. As the last of his strength left him and he found himself without the strength to hold himself up any longer, the pen slipped out of his hand and he collapsed to the ground. The eldritch script continued to float through the air for several more minutes, even as it slowly faded away alongside the numerous cigarette packs and butts that littered his room. It wasn¡¯t until the last of it had finally disappeared into oblivion that he found the strength to once more pick himself up, even if he lacked enough to do much more than fall onto his ass and lean against his bed for support as he simply enjoyed the fact that he could breathe. He stared up at the ceiling for several moments before deciding. ¡°I¡¯m going to burn that library to the ground. In fact¡­¡± Yet again he took the book and pen in hand, he felt a brief moment of fear because of how close this wretched thing had brought him to death. Something that he¡¯d no doubt be inviting once more if he were to write anything else in this book, his instincts warned. Rather than listening to those thoughts, he promptly stamped them out before using them to feed the smoldering rage in his chest as he wrote ¡®Surviving Death¡¯ underneath Act 1: Depression, followed by ¡®An Invitation Arrived¡¯ under Act 2: Opportunity, and finally under Act 3: Rekindling he wrote ¡®Burning A Library¡¯. Once more the eldritch text erupted from the book, this time with far more force than the slowly creeping death that was the cloud of smoke. All around the room first aid kits and spent bandages appeared alongside bullet holes, blood spatter, burn marks, and dead bodies wearing kevlar, making the whole space look like a war zone shortly after the worst of it. (Really starting to feel like home¡­) In spite of the fact that he¡¯d nearly died to them he still pulled a cigarette out and lit it, the chemicals hidden within the burnable stick the only thing keeping him from trying to set this building on fire. Whether from fear or rage he wasn¡¯t sure. (We¡¯ll find out when I snap, I guess.) Opposite him, the handless door to this room swung open, leading to the rest of the house looking just as torn up as the current room and leaving him with little doubt what he¡¯d find out there. And so with a reluctance of expected horrors he walked through the building, making his way down to Toni¡¯s workshop where he stopped in front of the door. (So help me if they have a dead clone of Toni in here¡­) Knowing what he was probably going to be walking into, he put his current cigarette out on the doorframe before pulling out a special pack of smokes he always kept on him and taking a steeling inhalation of the chems coating the inside of his cigarette. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Not even two breaths later he could feel a warmth filling his lungs as he pushed the door open and stepped inside to find a scene even more out of a horror story than the rest of the house. The entire workshop having been torn apart with bloody tools littering the ground and corpses dead upon the heavier machinery their blood still dripping onto the ground. (Fuck, is this what the book considers ¡®surviving death¡¯?) As luck would have it, despite his worst fears, he didn¡¯t find a copy of Toni¡¯s body anywhere, instead her main workbench had a massive burn mark with a half cremated corpse underneath it. On the wall some of the ashes had been wiped away, leaving behind a very pointed message. If you want the girl Come to the Black Briar Library ¡°Someone is really testing my patience.¡± He growled, before looking towards the sky. ¡°Just so we¡¯re clear, I¡¯m willing to put up with whatever sick test all of this is, but if you¡¯ve actually taken her I am going to burn all of you- Fuck!¡± He screamed as a knife embedded itself into his back. A ripping sound filled the air as the knife was torn out of him, pulling several pages of fluttering paper away as it did so. (The hell? Wait, no time.) He turned to his attacker and found a man in black kevlar facing him with a knife in hand. ¡°So, you friends with the corpses?¡± He asked as he rolled his shoulder checking to see how much damage that knife had done to him, only (aside from the pain it doesn¡¯t feel like it actually did anything to me. Is this all part of the illusion?) The man didn¡¯t say anything before rushing him with the knife once more. Gregory threw the book at his assailant, causing the man to deflect it with a sweep of the arm at the cost of leaving himself unprotected for an opening strike to the chest and the series of strikes that followed it. Unlike what he¡¯d expected, the final strike of his combination did not meet flesh, but instead tore through the air as the man erupted into a flurry of pages. He narrowed his eyes at the pages as he inhaled a lungful of his cigarette, the cherry barely moving as he did so, before opening his mouth and- promptly coughing as he choked on the smoke. ¡°The hell?¡± He gasped, eyes wide. ¡°That, that hasn¡¯t happened since boot camp¡­¡± Something slammed into his forehead, sending him stumbling back a step even as he caught the book that had hit him, finding that it was his own book -(of fucking course)- and that it had once more fallen open to the page describing the opening strike he¡¯d just used. With a frown he turned back to ¡®Current Story¡¯ before looking at the five marks that he was guessing described the various abilities he had. Not one of which really made use of his Smoke or his Fire. ¡°My skills may be¡­ rusty, but there is no way in hell I lost a decades worth of abilities. Especially not ones I know I could use just a week ago.¡± Admittedly, he hadn¡¯t been using that for combat so much as helping Toni with something, (but still¡­) Just to check this he clicked an icon that looked like his cigarette smoking, the thing that he¡¯d thought had represented the skill he¡¯d just tried to use only to find instead of his abilities¡­ (¡°Basic Chem Smokes. Cost: 1 Fantasy or Sci-Fi Page. Consumable The culmination of research into creating a combat enhancement formula. Highly addictive, both due to the power and the chemicals within. This is but the simplest of the series. Quick Read. Increase Power and Speed of the user until their next reading Turn. Checkout Renewal Fee (1 Fantasy or Sci-Fi Page).¡±) He inhaled before exhaling and deciding that while his ¡®special smokes¡¯ weren¡¯t common knowledge, they also weren¡¯t something that a group with the Black Briar Library¡¯s apparent resources couldn¡¯t easily find out about. (What is surprising though is the fact that these aren¡¯t the smokes I had on me¡­ Though it would explain why I couldn¡¯t do what I was planning.) Just to be sure he double checked the pack he had on him and found that they were still the actual mix of Black Cough, Anima Blue, and Red Fury that he usually carried on him. (So why didn¡¯t the one I use work how it was supposed to¡­ Wait¡­) He recounted the number of Chem Smokes in the pack. ¡°This is the same amount I had this morning¡­ Then¡­¡± He pulled out the cigarette he was currently smoking. ¡°Where did you come from?¡± As if to answer this question the burning cigarette came apart, turning into several pages of paper that fell out of his hand before merging into the book he was carrying. (I see¡­) Once more he pulled one of his smokes from the pack -this time not doing so blindly- and lit it before inhaling deeply and breaking into another coughing fit, even as a familiar chem filled warmth entered his chest. ¡°Still not what I was going for¡­¡± He gasped, as he checked the pack of cigarettes and yet again found that the one he¡¯d just removed had been returned to its previous place. (Alright, so this library is even more screwy than I already thought it was¡­) Flipping back to his Current Story, he checked the remaining three slots that apparently represented not his skills in general but rather the things he was allowed to use for this increasingly annoying test. (Let¡¯s see, all in all I¡¯ve got ¡®Opening Strike¡¯, ¡®Swift Dodge¡¯, ¡®Heated Fist¡¯, ¡®Basic Chem Smokes¡¯, and¡­) He paused and reread that last one, before checking his arm and frowning when it looked no different than usual. (I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m just going to ignore that one for now¡­) ¡°Either way, none of that included the rest of the strikes I used on that guy.¡± He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to figure out what exactly was happening here. (I guess if Heated Fist is here then that means it¡¯s only applying restrictions to some of my abilities?) ¡°But what¡¯s deciding what gets restricted and what I¡¯m allowed to do?¡± Regardless of anything else, he was fighting with a handicap he didn¡¯t understand (and that¡¯s the kind of thing that can get you killed.) Then again, he was already planning on burning down the library for putting him through all of this, and given everything it seemed capable of (that might be a suicide mission all it¡¯s own.) Shaking his head he made his way to the door to the workshop before walking into it as it refused to open for him. ¡°Gah, what is it now?!¡± He flipped the book open to Working Draft, trying to figure out what the stupid thing wanted from him now before once more finding the words he¡¯d added to the second act. ¡°An invitation arrived¡­ Right¡­¡± Looking up from the book, his eyes searched the room for wherever the invitation could be hiding, (since apparently it¡¯s not the literal invitation on the wall.) Eventually he found an envelope sitting atop a small pile of pages that he was guessing had once been a part of the construct he¡¯d killed. After picking the envelope up and finding it to be the exact same one Toni had given him earlier that day, just with more ash and blood on it, he also noticed that the pages underneath the envelope looked familiar for some reason. He folded and tucked the library invitation into his vest before also picking the pages up and going over them. Idly he noted that the door to the workshop had swung open not when he picked up the library invitation, but instead when he picked the actual pages up. (Meaning this is what they wanted me to actually grab.) Going over the pages he found that similar to the other ¡®Skill Pages¡¯ in the book, these ones described one of the many skills he knew and should¡¯ve been able to perform rust or no rust. More specifically he found that the technique depicted by the pages was a simple [Scene Choice] The Remnant of Gregory Fischer, Chapter III: Man On Fire Book I: The Remnant of Gregory Fischer, Chapter III: Man On Fire --- Gregory Fischer --- (¡°Simple Parry. Cost: 1 Blank Page. Defensive. A basic defensive maneuver that deflects an incoming strike, while hopefully leaving space for retaliation. A step further than blocking, but only the beginning of the defensive arts. Reactive Read. Negate an incoming attack. Checkout Renewal Fee: 1 Blank Page, for Scrappers and Infiltrators.¡±) Once more he understood most of what was written down, but there were still words that he lacked context for no matter how familiar they were becoming. (It doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯ve got enough to work with for now.) Deciding it was best to hold onto the page, given how it was the thing the Library actually wanted him to collect, he moved to put it in his book for safekeeping. Only when he brought the page close to the book he began to feel a force trying to pull it out of his hand. With a frown he tugged the page away from the book and felt the force stop before growing stronger as he brought it closer to the book. (They¡¯re almost magnetic with each other¡­) Figuring this was part of what the Library wanted him to see, he let the page go before watching it get sucked into the book where it seamlessly merged with the rest of the book, looking no different than any of the other skill pages he¡¯d read within. Just to check that he went back to his Current Story, and found that (yep, six marks for my¡­ Skills? Equipment? Both?) He shook his head as he closed the book, knowing that either he¡¯d figure out what was going on with the book or he¡¯d burn down the Library and the point would be moot. (Preferably the latter¡­) With nothing else left to do here, he turned his attention back to the exit door hanging open while leading out into a void that he was even more reluctant to deal with than the overcrowded city that he lived in. He pulled out one of his regular cigarettes, and found that the pack was almost empty. (If they gave infinite refills of these then I might¡¯ve forgiven them for all of this shit.) Still he lit up one of his cigarettes, more to calm his nerves than infuse himself with power, before stepping out into the void as confidently as he could. Ready to kill whatever he found on the other side. Outside of the Library¡¯s recreation of Toni¡¯s workshop he found himself on an empty black street with a recreation of his city¡¯s library in front of him. (If this was how the city was actually laid out it would make my life a hell of a lot easier¡­) Not letting his guard down, his eyes instinctively searched the street for any hidden enemies as he crossed it, only to find the half-hearted recreation of the city to be apocalyptically empty. (Well, at least I don¡¯t have to deal with people, small mercies I suppose¡­) As he started up the stairs to the library he found his eyes drifting up to the sky above, before really wishing he hadn¡¯t. While the world around him was illuminated well enough to pass for the evening, the sky above him was an abyss of nothingness darker than black and emptier than the void. At least until you realized the abyss was moving. A massive bloodshot eye opened, staring down at him before a maw full of fangs grinned at him. ¡°Nope.¡± He decided, running up the stairs two at a time so as to get some cover between him and the thing that could crush him like a roach. He shoulder tackled the door to the library open, before slamming it shut behind him, and (really hoping that was just some kind of mind fucky illusion.) With his luck he knew it wasn¡¯t but¡­ He shook his head, and took in the library he was inside of noting how instead of being the actual Black Briar Library it was a recreation of itself made from pages scrawled in so much text that might as well be black. Cautiously, he started forward until he was standing in the middle of the atrium over the insignia of a black rose. ¡°Well, I¡¯m here. I got your invitation. I¡¯m playing your little game. What do you want to do now? More men in black to try and kill me?¡± Silence was his only answer. Finishing off his cigarette, he dropped it on the ground and put it out under his heel. ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll figure it out myself.¡± Aware that the book had been the source of or answer to everything that had happened to him thus far, he pulled it out and began flipping through the pages until he once more found the ¡®Working Draft¡¯ section. (Okay, I survived Act 1, and I got the invitation from Act 2¡­) ¡°So why isn¡¯t the Library Burning for Act 3?¡± He was missing something. (Alright, so¡­ Library, Book, Story, Chapters, Drafts, and Acts¡­ Clearly there¡¯s a theme to all of this¡­ I survived death, thus beating Act 1: Depression. I got the invitation in Act 2 from those guys trying to kill me¡­ Which tied Act 1 and 2 together¡­ So to progress, I need to¡­ continue the narrative?) ¡°Which means burning the library down in vengeance.¡± While he wasn¡¯t one for book burning, he could happily make an exception in this case. (What¡¯s more they didn¡¯t take that particular option away from me either.) He flipped his book open to the page depicting his Heated Fist with a smirk. (¡°Heated Fist. Cost: 1 Fantasy or Science Fiction Page. Blunt Melee Fire. A technique born by fusing Martial Might with Technology or Magic to infuse one¡¯s fists with the power of the flame. The first true step to mastering the Fist of The Flame.¡±) He clenched his fist and drew on the power of the heat that was always smoldering within him, be it real or a hallucination. The air around his right arm began to shimmer, the heat bending the light around it before eventually actual flames began to lick away at him. Even if it wasn¡¯t as much as he¡¯d been hoping for, (there¡¯s plenty of kindling here to make it work.) All he had to do was introduce the fire to the pages around him and- He paused as he watched the shadows around him dance in the flame¡¯s light, quickly realizing that something was wrong about them. (The angle is all wrong, as if the flame was coming from-) With wide eyes he spun on his heel, and just barely managed to deflect a flaming fist before it could impact him. Not that that did anything to prevent the follow-up strike from hitting him in the chest and sending him flying with a trail of burning pages erupting behind him. ¡°Fuck!¡± He gasped as he hit the ground and bled the momentum to roll back onto his feet. ¡°Alright, who the hell¡­¡±This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. He couldn¡¯t help but trail off as he saw the figure in front of him. For before him stood a man whose flesh was covered in flames that slowly devoured him as his face was trapped in a richter of rage and hate that wanted little more than to burn the entire world around. A face that he had worn once upon a time¡­ (His world was nothing but pain and rage as he lashed out at anything in arm¡¯s reach, uncaring if they were friend or foe¡­) A face that was his¡­ ¡°So we¡¯re doing more of this memory lane bullshit.¡± He swallowed before standing once more and taking a stance against his burning doppelganger, all the while trying very hard not to think about what had sent him into this particular rage. Around him the library shifted and swirled as his doppelganger¡¯s flames slowly devoured it all before leaving them standing on a burning street with bodies littering the ground unmoving. Small bodies. He flinched. The Hellish Echo of who he was rushed forward with a fist full of flames, and all he could do was raise his guard to defend against the onslaught of strikes that devoured him. Unable to bring himself to do much more in the face of his¡­ (failure.) Another blow impacted his face, hard enough that he knew it should¡¯ve broken something, but while he did feel the pain (I deserve) his body kept no damage as more and more pages burst from his body. With every blow the flames consuming his doppelganger grew brighter and brighter, the heat building to a sweltering point he hadn¡¯t felt in years. As the flames began to flicker white, the Hellish Echo¡¯s fist hit him once more, only this time instead of pages erupting from his form he felt his glasses crunch as the fist hit his face, filling him with a pain far more real than anything he¡¯d felt since stepping foot into the Library. The moment real heat touched him, instinct took over and twisted the flames away, minimizing how much of his flesh they could eat away at before he twisted to move via his Smoke. Only instead of the Smoke following his will, he found the world around him shifting with the fluttering of pages before finding himself behind his Hellish Echo with a trail of paper leading between them. (W-what?) He blinked, regaining some lucidity as he found his Book once more in his hands. One of the pages fluttered in front of him and he realized he recognized the page¡¯s contents from within his own book. (¡°Swift Dodge. Cost: 1 Blank page. Mobility. The most important thing any combatant can learn is how to move to avoid being hit. Even better if they can do so swiftly. Reactive Read. When attacked, move a short distance away. Checkout Renewal Fee: 1 Blank Page, for Scrappers and Infiltrators.¡±) He frowned as he read that, more so when the page faded into nothingness as it touched the ground. (That¡­ that¡¯s not what I thought that meant¡­ That was almost like my Smoke Dash but¡­ with paper¡­) Paper was not something he could work with. At least not the way he could Fire and Smoke. This¡­ oddity was enough to have him reevaluating the world around him. A world that while extremely similar to one of his more traumatic memories, was also just off enough to remind him that this was all some kind of fucked up illusion from the Library messing with him, not the usual night terrors that he subjected himself to. Something that just served to piss him off once more. (And I can work angry¡­) With a growl he snapped his book shut before tossing it to the side, not really caring if it burned or not as he glared at the Hellish Echo whose right arm was wreathed in white flames that seemed to lash out at the very world around them. He inhaled before exhaling as he once more took his stance. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s try this again.¡± The Hellish Echo snarled a sound inhuman, before rushing forward with another Heat Fist from the blazing white arm. Instead of letting it hit him this time, he parried the blow off with his own right arm before using an Opening Strike on the Echo¡¯s solar plexus and following up with a flurry of body shots that ended with a hook to the Echo¡¯s jaw. The Hellish Echo stumbled back a step before swinging its arm with a clawing motion. One that he more than recognized as he ducked under a wave of flames before delivering a Heat Fist infused uppercut of his own. A blow that touched nothing but smoke as the Hellish Echo Smoke Dashed away, before entering a boxing stance and punching out a series of crimson fireballs in his direction. More on returning instinct than anything else, he pulled on his own power to use Smoke Dash, only to instead use the odd Swift Dodge again to avoid the spell series that detonated behind him as he closed the distance between him and the Echo. Reappearing in front of the Hellish Echo he slipped one of his Chem Smokes into his mouth before ducking under a sloppy hook from the Echo and taking it a step further by twisting its flames to light his own cigarette. Inhaling deeply, he felt the power of the Smoke flood his body as he firmed his footing on the ground before delivering another Heat Fist to the Hellish Echo¡¯s stomach, the flames blooming twice as far as any of his previous blows. The Hellish Echo skidded back on its heels, not being sent flying like he himself had, before turning a snarling glare upon him. ¡°What? Getting tired?¡± He asked in between rough breaths of his own as took note of the slowly spreading patches of burned flesh on his doppelganger. This question seemed to only enrage the Hellish Echo further if that was possible, as it took a stance he recognized even if he hadn¡¯t used it in years. The doppelganger drawing its blazing arm back with its right leg as the flames dancing around it began to circle around the echo. He couldn¡¯t help but scoff, even as phantom pains began to eat away at his body, ¡°Trust me, when I say¡­you really don¡¯t want to do that¡­¡± Rather than heeding his warning, his doppelganger¡¯s arm grew even brighter, enough so that he couldn¡¯t look at it directly as he rushed forward, knowing that he could not let that spell hit him. The Hellish Echo punched, causing the entire world to flash a blinding white as a destructive white flame devoured everything in front of his doppelganger rendering everything it touched nothing but ash. Something that he was quite content to not witness again as he dropped to the ground and dove through the far less dangerous red flames that had gathered around the Echo¡¯s feet. Even if he could still feel them burning him as he worked his magic to keep the white flames as far away from him as possible. When the light finally died down he found himself lying on the ground in a world much darker than before as all but the most stubborn of cinders had been snuffed out by the white flame that had for a moment devoured all the air on the street, leaving it hard for anything to breathe. Next to him his Hellish Echo fell to its knees, all of its fire having been consumed by the Morningstar it had unleashed. With what strength he had left he forced himself onto his own knees so that he could get a better look at the damage. The massive crater filled with embers stretching down half the street was something he¡¯d expected, as was the fact that Hellish Echo was now down an arm. ¡°Warned you, you didn¡¯t want to do that.¡± He sighed, looking at his right arm. Something he hadn¡¯t been expecting to get a page in his book even if he really should¡¯ve. (Toni¡¯s Prosthetic Arm Cost: 1 Science Fiction Page. Tech Equipment (Arm). A simple creation of a technological genius. The mere beginnings of what she could create, only held back due to fear of burning what remained of her friend. Restriction Read: This Page may only be equipped to a Cyberpunk unit with an (Arm) equipped or an ability equipping an (Arm). If this unit has any Heat stacks, increase the power of their Melee attacks and abilities by that amount.) With a wistful sigh he lowered his metal limb before climbing back to his feet and looking down at his Hellish Echo. The doppelganger no longer consumed by rage or fire, looked completely and utterly burned out a mere husk of what it had been a few moments prior. He lit one of his last two cigarettes before offering the last one to his doppelganger, knowing that if it felt anything like he did then he couldn¡¯t hurt it anymore than it already was. (My anger always did burn hot and fast I suppose¡­) To his surprise the doppelganger actually took the cigarette and put it to its lips before struggling to light the flame, something he always did with- He gripped the end of the Echo¡¯s cigarette and snapped the fingers of his right hand, lighting it. They both just sat there for a moment, watching ash drift through the air, the only remnant of the things that had gotten them into this fight in the first place. ¡°Do¡­ do we¡­ quit burning?¡± His younger self asked, sounding as lost as he had for years. Which is why he actually thought about it for a moment, perhaps for the first moment even. He didn¡¯t think about the events that burned him out until he became little more than a husk of himself, because he thought about those daily. But rather he thought about where he was, where he¡¯d been since the day he burned. The way he just went through the motions of it all, waking up, pretending for Toni¡¯s sake, working so that she could live as she wished in spite of him holding her back, drowning himself in stories so he wouldn¡¯t have to think about his own. He stared into the cherry glowing at the end of his cigarette for another moment, before telling his younger self, []- ¡°Yes.¡± (It has to¡­) []- ¡°No.¡± (It won¡¯t¡­) Book I: The Remnant of Gregory Fischer, Chapter IV: From The Ashes Book I: The Remnant of Gregory Fischer, Chapter IV: From The Ashes --- Gregory Fischer --- His younger self stared at him for a moment before letting out a huff of grim amusement. ¡°We¡¯ve always been a terrible liar¡­¡± ¡°We have.¡± He admitted, standing where he was and looking at where he came from. ¡°But if hope is a lie¡­ then I don¡¯t mind believing in a lie¡­ Maybe¡­ Maybe if we believe it enough it¡¯ll even become true.¡± His doppelganger was silent as they both continued to smoke until their cigarettes had burned away to nothing. ¡°Yeah¡­ Hope isn¡¯t the worst lie to believe in¡­¡± From beside him his younger self began to glow before slowly unraveling into a number of golden pages that floated through the air as the world around him rapidly dissolved into a storm of pages much like the one that first constructed the world around him. Unlike before there was no echoing voice from all around, or images from his past, instead the pages leaving behind nothing but an empty void as they aligned themselves, stacking together until they¡¯d formed a coverless book. One that read, (¡°Ashes of War, The Remnant of Gregory Fischer.¡±) The book floated there, waiting for him to take it as the shadows danced around them despite nothing being visible outside of a spotlight with no source shining down from above. He inhaled before exhaling and taking the book into hand. And so with an odd mix of feelings that were half resignation and half acceptance, he opened the cover of the book much like he had before all of this and when the book didn¡¯t move on its own he began to read. ¡°Once upon a time, there was a soldier named Gregory Fischer.¡± He swallowed looking down at the image of him in a uniform he¡¯d burned long ago, the picture almost moving from how lifelike it was. ¡°Gregory was a good little soldier who followed orders, no matter how much he hated them.¡± He continued his eyes going over the page of what had once been just a burning street covered in bodies but was now shifting between the numerous things he¡¯d done while ¡®just following orders¡¯. ¡°Until he was given an order he couldn¡¯t follow.¡± He growled, looking at the picture of how scared he¡¯d been of a man in a suit who could only make others fight his battles. ¡°So he didn¡¯t.¡± He declared, feeling the same sort of resolve he had when he¡¯d first burned those documents before doing what he¡¯d had to. ¡°The men he viewed as his brothers abandoned him for failing to follow his duty.¡± He frowned, at the image of him sitting in a canteen by himself, a clear gap between him and everyone else. And for the first time he broke the script. ¡°And he accepted that, unwilling to have ¡®brothers¡¯ who chose ¡®duty¡¯ over ¡®morality¡¯.¡± His mind flashed to Toni. ¡°Especially when not all of them abandoned him for this.¡± To his surprise his additional words carved themselves onto the page, and the image of his forlorn self sitting alone was replaced by a determined version of himself marching away from the table as Toni pursued with a concerned look.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Something¡­ Something filled his chest at this, his mind beginning to grasp a revelation he couldn¡¯t put into words yet. Which is why he continued with a voice of steel despite the shaking in his chest. ¡°Shame filled him¡­ Not because of the order he rejected, but because of all those he didn¡¯t¡­¡± The image of him clutching his head while surrounded by smoke of the past still hurt to look at, (but¡­) ¡°Each a mistake he could not afford to repeat¡­ Which is why he wouldn¡¯t.¡± The day his military career ended be it officially or unofficially played out with him emptying his locker before slamming it shut as he marched away with a smoldering glare just looking for something to burn. ¡°Unable to do the job he was made for, they-¡± He paused, remembering that day really remembering it. Not simply the fact that they¡¯d washed their hands of him, but the fact that that had happened after¡­ He swallowed before starting once more. ¡°Unable to do the job they demanded, he left it all behind, happy to leave it all a burned out husk of what he¡¯d once seen it as.¡± For a moment he was scared that whatever magic was fueling all of this wouldn¡¯t accept his new version, but the old words were removed and his new ones were written as he watched his younger self march out of his old base with a fire in his eyes. ¡°Thank you¡­¡± He whispered, as the shifting in his chest settled and he finally realized what the point of all this was. Instead of writing this down, the book in his hands flipped to a new page, one that was blank of any image or writing. He could remember what the voice had told him before, about how this was where his story began, but¡­ (That¡¯s not right¡­) ¡°Gregory Fischer, lived his life as best he could alongside his best friend Toni.¡± He told the book and whoever else was listening. ¡°Unregretful of the choices that he¡¯d made those days.¡± A picture formed alongside the text of him helping out around Toni¡¯s newly opened workshop they¡¯d both paid for. He licked his lips before continuing, feeling like a sinner in a confessional as the book turned to a new page. ¡°Sadly, this was not the beginning of his happily ever after¡­ For as much as he wished otherwise the guilt of the past continued to burn away at him.¡± An image of himself walking through the streets with a cloud of smoke behind him came into existence, the smoke filled with bad memories that burned at the world around them. ¡°Eventually, he became little more than a husk of himself¡­ Scared to go outside¡­ Not because of anyone else¡¯s grand scheme, but¡­ because he was scared he¡¯d burn the world like he¡¯d burned himself.¡± The page revealed one of his more shameful moments, an image of himself lashing out at someone in the middle of the street because the memories had become too much and someone who didn¡¯t deserve it got too close. ¡°Every day was a fight with himself to get out of bed, let alone do much else¡­ And for years he lived as little more than a husk of himself.¡± A picture showed him sitting in his bed, staring up at the ceiling with a cigarette in his mouth as his room slowly filled with cigarettes, until the whole place looked like he really was going to die via ¡®Death By Cigarettes¡¯. He was silent for a moment before once more steeling his resolve. ¡°At least until he was given an invitation to a certain library.¡± The new page showed Toni offering him the invitation that had brought him here. ¡°An invitation that prompted him to face his demons, whether he liked it or not.¡± The image changed to one of him fighting a burning version of himself in a mirror, something that¡­ bothered him more than it should. ¡°Demons he sought to make peace with in spite of everything.¡± Once more the picture shifted, this time to show him and his younger self sharing a smoke. (That¡¯s better¡­) ¡°This¡­ This is where our story begins.¡± The Remnant of Gregory Fischer, Chapter V: A Flame Rekindles Book (I): The Remnant of Gregory Fischer, Chapter V: A Flame Rekindles --- Gregory Fischer --- ¡°Well done! Truly brilliant!¡± A voice called, applause echoing as a light flashed and he found himself back in the library atrium standing in front of a smiling young woman with dark hair wearing glasses and black button up vest over a white long sleeved blouse. ¡°I¡¯ll admit I was a little worried things wouldn¡¯t work out for a moment there, but you managed to turn it all around!¡± ¡°Uh¡­ thanks.¡± He managed to get out as he dealt with something of an emotional whiplash, before slowly pulling himself together. ¡°But, um, who are you exactly?¡± ¡°Oh, sorry I got so caught up in your story telling that I almost forgot.¡± The woman grinned wryly as she adjusted her glasses. ¡°I¡¯m Briar Black, The Head Librarian of the Black Briar Library.¡± ¡°Right¡­¡± He nodded slowly as his eyes narrowed. ¡°And going by your name I¡¯m also guessing you¡¯re the owner of the library too?¡± Briar winced as she gained a sheepish look. ¡°Heh, sort of¡­ We were, uh, we were named for the same thing¡­ Sort of¡­ Let¡¯s just¡­ move on from the name thing¡­¡± ¡°Okay.¡± He acquiesced, figuring the oddity of her name was less important than her admitting she was near the top of the food chain for this place. ¡°But I¡¯m guessing that means you¡¯re the one I should be¡­ thanking for my invitation here?¡± ¡°Heh, you don¡¯t, you don¡¯t have to do that.¡± Briar assured him bashfully as she twirled some of her hair, clearly wishing he would. Regardless, given the emotional rollercoaster of the last hour he wasn¡¯t sure whether he actually should thank her, even with his recent resolution. Which is why he instead asked, ¡°If I may, what made you decide to send me that invitation?¡± Briar looked vaguely disappointed before giving him a smile. ¡°Well, you see, we¡¯re still building the library up. I was only recently put in charge and I still need to staff it with Librarians who can do everything we need doing around here.¡± ¡°Okay¡­¡± He nodded once more. ¡°That doesn¡¯t really explain why you invited me, given how I¡¯m not a librarian.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not a Librarian, yet.¡± Briar corrected him with a wag of her finger. ¡°I think it¡¯s safe to say after your performance here you are clearly Librarian material. Enough so that I¡¯m surprised no other library has tried to scoop you up yet.¡± He inhaled and exhaled almost wishing he hadn¡¯t given his last smoke to his younger self as he tapped his fingers against his leg. ¡°Alright, but how did you know I was going to be ¡®librarian material¡¯ before¡­ all of this.¡± Briar rolled her eyes, and gave him an amused grin. ¡°Because you found your way here on your own, of course!¡± ¡°So, you didn¡¯t bring me here from my normal library?¡± He asked as plainly as he could. ¡°Well, yeah, I did this time.¡± Briar admitted, before adding, ¡°But I didn¡¯t do that the first time you came here!¡± ¡°The¡­ first time?¡± He frowned, fairly certain he hadn¡¯t stepped foot in this place prior to getting his invitation. ¡°Yeah, you know when you wandered in here while- Oh!¡± Briar hit her forehead. ¡°You were Dreaming and people forget those!¡± He pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°So, you¡¯re saying I came here in a dream?¡± (Which fits since this whole thing has been a fever dream.) If not for the pain he¡¯d been feeling he¡¯d think he was actually in one. ¡°Yep!¡± Briar grinned as if what she was saying made perfect sense. He took a deep breath before reaching for one of his ¡®special smokes¡¯ less because he needed the firepower and more because he needed something to take the edge off of his mounting frustration. Which in turn led him into thinking about something he¡¯d been wondering about. ¡°So, moving on¡­ I¡¯ve got to ask about the whole book thing?¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s something I¡¯ve set up for all of my Librarians to help them with their work.¡± The Head Librarian explained with no small amount of cheer or confidence. ¡°I figured giving you your Book during your test would help you with reading your story volume.¡± ¡°My story volume?¡± He repeated, having an idea of what that was given the book in his hand but not entirely sure. ¡°Yeah, I figured proof-reading your own story would be easier than doing it for someone else. After all, since it¡¯s your story you can more easily fix any issues that you find.¡± Briar elaborated. ¡°Now that we¡¯ve workshopped the final draft of the current volume, I¡¯ve gone ahead and added it to your collection so you can more easily reference it in your book.¡± He looked at the book in his hands, not really surprised to find that it had reverted back to the book he¡¯d carried throughout his previous trial. With next to no effort the book fell open to its table of contents, where he once more spotted a section ¡®Volumes Collected¡¯. The moment he focused on it the paged began to flip before he found a secondary index with his name at the top and three lines things listed in eldritch text beneath it. (¡°Gregory Fischer -Overarching -The Black Briar LibrarianSupport the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. -The Ashes of War.¡±) He focused on the ¡®Overarching¡¯ text, and just as it had before the pages flipped until he found himself staring at a swarm of shifting eldritch writing far denser than anything he¡¯d seen before barring his synopsis. Enough so that he was fairly certain that if he were to actually turn the page¡­ it wouldn¡¯t go well for him. Which is why he instead focused on what text he could actually understand, slowly piecing together something that roughly read as, (¡°The Man Who Burned: At the start of every combat chapter and whenever this unit plays a card, this unit gains a stack of Heat. Additionally, at the start of a Reading search your Library for a 1-Cost Arm Equipment Page and equip it to this unit for free.¡±) He couldn¡¯t help but close the books as he felt an ice pick driving itself through his eyes as he tried to process the words he¡¯d just read. ¡°What¡­ what does any of that mean?¡± ¡°Ah, right¡­ You aren¡¯t used to reading Eldritch truths¡­¡± Briar grimaced in sympathy before giving him a smile. ¡°Don¡¯t worry it gets easier as the psionic scarring builds.¡± ¡°The, the what?¡± He blinked, his head still pounding. ¡°It¡¯s not important.¡± Briar assured him as she got him to sit in a chair that wasn¡¯t behind him just a moment ago, before handing him a cup of coffee off the table that had appeared in between his blinks. (Damn, I must really be out of it¡­) ¡°Feeling better?¡± Briar asked him after a moment of nursing his drink. ¡°Yeah¡­ I think so¡­¡± He slowly answered. ¡°My head is feeling a lot clearer at the very least.¡± ¡°Good. That¡¯s good.¡± Briar nodded, sipping at her own drink. ¡°Since you¡¯re a little more here, how about we get back on topic?¡± ¡°Back on topic?¡± He frowned, his head briefly wincing as he even thought about opening the book again. ¡°Yeah, I mentioned before that all of this was an interview to see if you¡¯d be a good fit for the Black Briar Library, and¡­ You are!¡± Briar grinned with a small cheer. He gave the librarian a confused look. ¡°And¡­ and what does that mean exactly?¡± ¡°Well, if you accept the job your work will alternate between in house work helping to structure and clean up the Library and more field inclusive work collecting stories and proof reading them as you do so.¡± Briar explained in a more professional tone than she¡¯d been using, almost as if she¡¯d rehearsed this part. ¡°And collecting stories¡­ I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s going to be like what I did today?¡± He grimaced. ¡°Yes, and no. While you will be going out and collecting stories, we shouldn¡¯t have to recreate someone¡¯s past the way you did today. Unless you think it¡¯d help with your proof reading?¡± Briar asked with a tilt of her head, as if she wasn¡¯t sure whether or not it would help him. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know.¡± He admitted, not actually sure what ¡®proof reading¡¯ would entail if not what he¡¯d just been through. (Thinking of¡­) ¡°Will I have to¡­ proof read myself like that?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have to but if you do I can help you collect more volumes of your story.¡± Briar answered with a look half way between concern and regret. (Okay, so¡­ I won¡¯t have to go through all of that again.) While he may¡¯ve been glad he found the¡­ closure that he did, he was confident saying, (I really didn¡¯t want to go ripping anymore emotional wounds open.) The fact that he wouldn¡¯t have to, went a long way in soothing his nerves. (Making this just like any other job interview now, meaning it¡¯s time for the most important question.) ¡°Alright, what¡¯s the pay?¡± Because even if he would¡¯ve let them low ball him while depressed, he had enough spine right now that he was going to be damned if he was going to work for chump change. ¡°You get to read all the books there are!¡± Briar smiled as she stood and raised her arms towards the massive shelves full of books surrounding them. He waited a moment, before realizing she was waiting on his reaction. ¡°Okay¡­ and?¡± Briar blinked in confusion. ¡°And?¡± ¡°Yeah, and? I mean, being able to read on the job is a perk but¡­ it¡¯s not really pay?¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­ not?¡± His would be boss frowned, sounding even more confused. ¡°It¡¯s not.¡± He confirmed, only staying because of her clear confusion and the bit of gratitude he felt for helping him find the spine to question this. ¡°Um¡­¡± Briar looked around, before pointing at his book. ¡°You get your book and all the perks I packed into it!¡± ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure this thing is keeping me from doing more than it¡¯s helping me with.¡± He admitted, trying to form a fireball in hand only to get sparks. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s¡­ I¡¯ll, I¡¯ll look into that.¡± Briar promised, even as she began to look around with a bit more desperation. ¡°Trust me, by the time I fix it you¡¯ll be so wowed you¡¯ll be shooting for employee of the month! Heh-heh-heh¡­¡± He raised an unimpressed brow. ¡°Um¡­ what¡­ what exactly do you want to be paid?¡± Briar finally asked, looking both pained and embarrassed to be doing so. ¡°Money.¡± He answered dry as a desert. ¡°What kind?¡± He gave the visibly sweating librarian a flat look, before taking a deep breath and letting it out. ¡°You haven¡¯t been running this place for long have you?¡± ¡°No¡­¡± Briar admitted without meeting his gaze. He took another breath as he looked the nervous young woman over, before looking over the library atrium and thinking about how much it must have cost to set all of this up. (And that¡¯s before we get into however much magic it¡¯s taking to run¡­ everything I¡¯ve seen today.) The smart thing to do would be to get up and walk away, given how he had no idea whether or not he was going to get paid, but¡­ ¡°How important is this library to you?¡± ¡°It is everything to me.¡± Briar answered with no small amount of conviction. He ran a hand through his hair before pulling out one of his now seemingly unlimited special smokes. (Which given how much these things cost¡­) Lighting the cigarette he kept circling around a thought and a memory, something he¡¯d just told himself. (I¡¯d have to work a lot more than I like to make this work the way I want but¡­) He gave Briar another look, the librarian giving him a hopeful look as she waited for his answer. ¡°Fuck it.¡± He finally decided. ¡°I¡¯ll help you out, if only because you clearly need it.¡± ¡°Yes!¡± Briar cheered, before launching herself forward and wrapping her arms around him. ¡°Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!!!¡± ¡°Just remember, the moment you start making money off of this, I¡¯m going to demand a pay check.¡± He warned the surprisingly strong librarian as he tried to pry her off of him, not mentioning the thing the library had already given him. (¡°Hope isn¡¯t the worst lie to believe in¡­¡±) He smirked as he finally got Briar off of him. It¡¯d been a long time since he¡¯d had hope. Book (2) The Crimson Carnival: Prologue Book (2) The Crimson Carnival: Prologue --- Gregory Fischer --- Slowly his eyes opened as he dragged his dazed mind from the delightful depth of dreams that he¡¯d been a part of and back into the world he was more familiar with. With a groan, he made himself sit up as he stretched and popped out the various aches and pains that came from being an ex-soldier with a prosthetic. His body full of energy even as his mind fought off the last of his sleep, impatient to get the day started. Feeling a mix of the normal morning needs he finally rolled out of bed to take care of them all with a trip to the bathroom and a warm shower to help wake him up. Stepping out of the shower he pulled on a pair of jeans, slipped on a button up shirt, and grabbed his usual black vest before putting on his glasses and taking a look at his reflection in the mirror. A thirty-something man with a bit of brown stubble on his face and brown eyes with only the faintest rings around them stared back at him with a tired but determined look as he tied his shoulder length hair into his usual ponytail. Part of him actually wondering whether or not he should get a haircut. Feeling his stomach rumble he made his way to the kitchen before pulling out some eggs and frying them up alongside some toast in the toaster for breakfast. The pan went in the sink where he washed it clean before tossing his paper plate and plastic silverware in the trash can. With all of that taken care of he stepped out of his apartment filled with furniture and a couple of overflowing bookshelves, that had him thinking about getting another one to lighten their load as he made his way downstairs to Toni¡¯s shop below. Said mechanic was drinking a cup of coffee in her chair as she got her tools ready for the day while going over whatever paperwork she had for the day. ¡°Morning.¡± He called, leaning against the doorframe. His best friend blinked in surprise before turning his way with wide eyes. ¡°Greg? You¡¯re up¡­ early?¡± ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s¡­ a good day.¡± He decided with a wry grin as he subconsciously patted the book he was carrying under one arm. Toni spun around in her chair and gave him a once over with a smile. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re uh, you¡¯re looking like you¡¯re having a good day.¡± ¡°First day of the new job¡­ Honestly, I¡¯m a little excited.¡± He had to admit. ¡°Really? So you¡¯re taking up that job offer from that Briar Library thing?¡± Toni asked him with a bit of cautious skepticism. ¡°And you¡¯re actually excited to work for them?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a library job.¡± He reminded her to distract from all the ways it wasn¡¯t. ¡°I¡¯m mostly going to be collecting and sorting stories out based on what my boss told me the other day.¡± ¡°So not like your usual jobs?¡± His best friend checked once more. ¡°Because the other day you were looking kind of drained when you got back from your interview.¡± ¡°Well¡­ They handle a lot of magic books.¡± He tried to explain without explaining. ¡°It¡¯s just that during the¡­ interview, I realized how¡­ rusty I¡¯d let my other skills get. I mean I can throw a fire punch but¡­ my theory could use a lot more work than I thought.¡± Toni looked unconvinced, the mechanic never being overly fond of the ¡®magic¡¯ that half their society was built on, much more preferring the mechanical half of it. ¡°So it¡¯s just books and stuff. No actual fighting?¡± ¡°Not unless the people we get the stories from put up a fight.¡± The fact that his own story put him so thoroughly through the ringer was not something he was going to tell her. (I don¡¯t need to make her worry. Especially not with how much worry I¡¯ve given her these last few years¡­) She stared at him for a moment before eventually nodding. ¡°Good. After everything you¡¯ve been through, something quiet will be good for you.¡± He thought about everything that happened at the library for better and for worse before giving a small nod of his own. ¡°Yeah, I think it will too.¡± ¡°Then get going!¡± Toni smiled at him. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t blow this by being late on your first day.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t be!¡± He called back as he made his way towards the shop¡¯s front door, ready to take on whatever his job would throw at him. Once on the streets he found himself freezing as he realized just how crowded the main street was, a number of pedestrians already making their ways all over as he stood on the shop¡¯s stoop trying to steady his slowly spiraling nerves. (Shit¡­ forgot how overcrowded the main streets are¡­) Not quite able to handle this much hustle and bustle he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, smoking the entire thing as he tried to use the chemicals within to steady his nerves.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. He couldn¡¯t help but grimace as the door opened behind him. ¡°You okay?¡± ¡°Yeah, just¡­ overestimated how good of a day it was.¡± He admitted as he pulled out a second cigarette. He didn¡¯t turn around, not wanting to see what expression Toni was making, instead using the idea of what that might be to steele himself before stepping onto the main street. And ducking into the first alley that would take him to the off street route he usually took everywhere. (I really need to ask how to work that summoning trick with my regular smokes.) He sighed as he pulled out a third cigarette, leaving him with maybe half of a pack of the skull marked carton of white sticks. The back alleys were filled with their usual amount of filth swept out of sight of the various store and business fronts of the tall cramped city streets. A sight that he could usually ignore, but stood out to him today after having actually seen how clean and proper the main street was. Even the few other people on this route stood out as a stark reminder of how few people were confident walking them when compared to the numerous people who felt safe on the main street. Even with his good mood he wasn¡¯t willing to take the city bus, but even with these recent reminders, the small bit of pep that remained in his step was enough to shave a decent amount off of his usual route. Enough so that he actually made the trip in just under an hour for once, his confidence just high enough to risk a few public shortcuts on his way to the library. Looking up the steps to the library he couldn¡¯t help himself as the bit of giddiness he¡¯d woken up with once more made itself known as he slowly made his way to what he was hoping would become another sanctuary from the world outside of Toni¡¯s shop. The fact that he was the only one going up the steps just made that feel all the more possible, even if he wasn¡¯t making his way up the steps to this library. He paused with his hand on the door, closing his eyes as he remembered Briar¡¯s previous instructions on how to return to the library. His mind focused on the image of the black rose and thorns that made up the emblem of the Black Briar Library before pushing the door open. Opening his eyes as he was enraptured by silence, he found himself in a massive atrium far bigger than the building he¡¯d previously entered. The room filled with cool grays and dark blacks that did little to distract from a number of books that would¡¯ve been obscene in any setting other than a library. As the door clicked shut behind him he carelessly ventured forward into the building, doing his utmost best to ignore the things moving in the shadows. A mystery he was sure to figure out if he spent enough time in what he knew to be no ordinary library. (I hope¡­) Regardless, while this was one of the weirdest and magically potent places he¡¯d ever seen, he was fully aware that this place meant no harm (even if it could do a fair amount¡­) ¡°Gregory Fischer!¡± A voice called from behind him. Spinning on his heels he found a young woman with pitch black hair smiling up at him through her own glasses. One that most certainly hadn¡¯t been there five seconds ago when he¡¯d passed through that very spot. ¡°Briar Black.¡± He nodded back since they were apparently using their full names. ¡°Oh! You can just call me Briar!¡± The head of this eldritch library told him. ¡°Then call me Gregory¡­ or Fischer, don¡¯t really care either way.¡± He shrugged, not really used to doing this whole small talk thing with his employers. (Usually they just tell me what they want done and where to pick up the second half of my money.) ¡°Wonderful!¡± Briar laughed practically bouncing in place. ¡°Excited?¡± He asked, raising a half amused brow. ¡°So excited!¡± The librarian nodded. ¡°With you here now I¡¯ve increased my number of librarians by one hundred percent! My brother is going to be so jealous with his one partner at a time.¡± ¡°Okay¡­ When you say that do you mean you¡¯ve got someone other than me working here?¡± He checked to make sure he was understanding. ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve made sure that Mr. Peabody was present to meet you. He¡¯s over this way.¡± Briar explained as she led him towards a set of doors that he was sure hadn¡¯t been there just a moment before. ¡°Right, I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll be good to meet this¡­ Mr. Peabody.¡± He smiled tersely as he followed after. (Maybe he can tell me why Briar has no understanding of money.) ¡°And here is our other librarian, Mr. Peabody!¡± Briar introduced as she pushed the doors open to reveal a- (Hold up.) ¡°This is Mr. Peabody?¡± He couldn¡¯t help but frown as his boss started petting a white and gray dog wearing what looked like a saddle bag on its back and a set of glasses on its face. ¡°Yep. I knew that I needed the best person I could find for my first librarian and then I found out that Mr. Peabody here is the goodest boi!¡± Briar explained, clearly not seeing the issue that he was. He took a deep breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose before letting it out. ¡°Okay¡­ and tell me is Mr. Peabody good at his job?¡± ¡°Oh, he¡¯s the best scout I could¡¯ve ever asked for.¡± Briar happily nodded. ¡°Any time I need to find a new story Mr. Peabody here will wander off and find me a place with a bunch of new stories to collect when I follow him!¡± He took another deep breath before letting it out. ¡°Right, so¡­ you explained the other day that the whole point of the Black Briar Library is to collect stories, and Mr. Peabody here somehow finds you them?¡± ¡°Uh-huh, though he insists on finding them because while he¡¯s not good at collecting them he can track down the most interesting stories out there!¡± His new (and mildly insane) boss assured him. ¡°In fact that¡¯s part of why I brought him here to meet you today!¡± ¡°Really?¡± He asked in a tone dry as the dessert. ¡°Yeah, since he refuses to collect stories he can take you somewhere he¡¯s scouted and you can collect the story instead!¡± Briar told him, before glancing at the dog. ¡°In fact Mr. Peabody here even went out of his way to find a special place for your first day!¡± Despite his skepticism the dog pulled out a book from within the saddle bag and walked over before offering it to him. The Crimson Carnival Chapter I: Librarian Duties The Crimson Carnival Chapter I: Librarian Duties --- Gregory Fischer --- (Well, isn¡¯t that inviting¡­) His face twisted into what could charitably be called a grin as he looked at what was either a fantasy or horror novel cover. Deciding to stall on that particular gamble, he instead turned his attention back towards Briar and asked her, ¡°So, how is this supposed to work exactly? I just open the book and¡­¡± ¡°And the library¡¯s magic will drop you off at whatever location Mr. Peabody has scouted out.¡± Briar smiled, practically bouncing in place. ¡°Just like in your interview!¡± On that note he wondered, ¡°How much of my interview is going to be applicable here? We talked about the broad strokes the other day but we didn¡¯t really get into the details of it.¡± ¡°Well, I designed the interview to cover the broad strokes of everything. Didn¡¯t I?¡± Briar frowned thoughtfully before counting off on her fingers. ¡°First the book takes you somewhere with a story. Then once you find a compatible story, you start proofreading it during which you can make small Edits as needed, based on the available Ink. Wyou feel you¡¯re done, you can then read the story synopsis aloud to send your draft to the library. At which point we¡¯ll bring you back here to discuss things!¡± ¡°That¡­ was all covered¡­¡± (I guess¡­) ¡°But I¡¯d still like to¡­ clarify a few details. Just to make sure everything works out right.¡± (And I don¡¯t end up in a fight with another doppelganger.) ¡°Sure, ask away!¡± His new boss told him as she flopped back into a chair and crossed one leg over the other. ¡°After all, it''s a good boss''s job to help their employees however they can!¡± He kept his instinctive (Bullshit.) to himself given how he was pretty sure that the naive girl was trying her best here. (She just has no idea what she¡¯s doing. Which is why I¡¯m here I guess¡­) ¡°Right, so the other day we talked about how ¡®Stories¡¯ are the conceptual containers of an existence. A recording of something upon the¡­ Akashic Records, I think?¡± At the very least that was what he¡¯d gotten from the extremely technical conversation that assured him that practicals aside his theory was complete and utter shit outside of his affinities for smoke and fire. ¡°Now how am I supposed to know if a story I hear is an actual Story?¡± Briar let out a laugh like he¡¯d said something particularly foolish. ¡°Well, every story is a Story silly~¡± ¡°Okay¡­¡± He drawled out, already reaching for his cigarettes as he instead tried, ¡°How do I know it¡¯s a story you¡¯re actually going to want for the library?¡± ¡°That¡¯s easy, I want all the stories!¡± Briar happily smiled as she spun in her chair. ¡°All the stories?¡± He repeated skeptically. ¡°All the stories.¡± The head librarian nodded. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his patience even as he sarcastically asked, ¡°So if I were to pick up some random bar story?¡± ¡°I¡¯d love to hear it.¡± Briar assured him, the side of her mouth twitching. ¡°Especially if they¡¯re funny.¡± His eyes narrowed as he took a hit of his smoke and realized, ¡°You¡¯re messing with me.¡± ¡°A little bit.¡± Briar admitted, pinching her fingers together before more seriously explaining that. ¡°While all stories really are Stories, the conceptual weight and in turn value of every story is different. Just by going out the library will passively collect any smaller stories, histories, or rumors that occur near you via the connection to your personal book.¡± ¡°But I¡¯m guessing that that isn¡¯t what you¡¯re actually after?¡± He pressed, hoping to get a serious answer. The Head Librarian made a so-so gesture. ¡°While you could just passively collect those, and I¡¯d be content¡­ It¡¯ll take a lot of them to do anything for the Library. Stories with a greater conceptual weight however¡­ Well there¡¯s a lot of things we can do with those.¡±If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Okay, and how do I know how much conceptual weight a story has?¡± He frowned, because that was the question he¡¯d been trying to ask for a good minute now. ¡°Your Book will record any stories you start following, the more ¡®Acts¡¯ a story has the greater it¡¯s conceptual weight and the more work you¡¯ll have to put into recording it¡¯s container for the library.¡± Briar answered, before raising a finger. ¡°Though as promised, I can use some of that story power to unlock new chapters for your book. With the power being based on the story you collect! I tried to show you that by giving you new ones as you went through your own story, but since I spent most of it on making your Volume there wasn¡¯t much left over for that.¡± ¡°Makes sense¡­¡± (Stories are power. Stronger stories equal more power, but take more work. And more power of course equals more magic.) Or that¡¯s how he¡¯d understood it the first time around. ¡°So¡­ any other questions?¡± Briar checked as he took a moment to think and smoke. (Yeah,) He still had a few, but he was pretty sure if they got into another talk about magical theory they¡¯d get nothing else done, just like the day of his interview. (Better to focus until the job is done for now.) ¡°Anything you can tell me about wherever this place is taking me?¡± He asked, tapping the book cover. Briar tilted her head. ¡°Um, a circus¡­ with something dangerous? I think. I didn¡¯t really get the best look around when we solidified the connection between there and the library. You¡¯d have to ask Mr. Peabody for more details since he¡¯s the one who actually scouted it out.¡± He glanced at the dog happily panting away and got the distinct feeling that wasn¡¯t going to help him in the slightest. ¡°Speaking of, since this is going to be your first time in the field why don¡¯t you take him with you?¡± Briar suggested. ¡°Is that¡­ a good idea?¡± He didn¡¯t have much experience with animals. (Outside of burning the Chem and Anima mutated ones at least.) Something he felt his new boss would not like. ¡°Of course, even if he doesn¡¯t really do collections, he¡¯s still good at what he does do.¡± Briar assured him. ¡°If you have trouble finding a Story on your own he can lead you to one, or at the very least help you with any stories you find on your own. Given how you two will be working together it¡¯ll be good for you both to build a rapport now.¡± He gave the dog another look before shaking his head. ¡°Sure, but if he wanders off on his own I¡¯m not going to go looking for him.¡± As was he was going to have his hands full doing his actual job, let alone babysitting a dog. ¡°He¡¯s a big boy, he can take care of himself.¡± Briar shrugged before giving Mr. Peabody a look. ¡°Still, you should stay with Gregory in case he needs help. No going off to find an adventure for yourself, okay?¡± The dog of course didn¡¯t answer, and he was more focused on putting his cigarette out with his hand and tossing the spent butt back into his pack. ¡°Well, I guess this is it.¡± He sighed, looking down at the book with a crimson cover. ¡°Oh, before you go don¡¯t forget to pick one of your Volumes to bring with you.¡± Briar told him. ¡°We¡¯ve only got enough power to keep one of them active right now, so you¡¯ll have to pick between your ¡®Ashes of War¡¯ and ¡®The Black Briar Librarian¡¯. You¡¯re free to bring Ashes of War if that¡¯s what you feel safer with, but the Librarian books all resonate when near each other. Meaning you¡¯ll be able to borrow some of Mr. Peabody¡¯s power if you bring that one with you.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll consider it.¡± He told her, not actually sure if he wanted to use the dog¡¯s power. (But it can¡¯t hurt to entertain her a bit, unless¡­) ¡°Is this something I can change whenever or only while I¡¯m here?¡± ¡°Only here.¡± Briar grimaced before hastily adding. ¡°For now!¡± He opened his book up and pulled up ¡®Volumes Collected¡¯ before once more looking at the two ¡®Volumes¡¯ that he¡¯d read on the day of his interview. Figuring that a review wouldn¡¯t hurt given how in and out of it he¡¯d been by the end of both his ¡®Proofreading¡¯ and Briar¡¯s lecture. (¡°The Black Briar Librarian (Volume I) -Enhance Mind Resistance (+). -Black Briar Librarian: This soul is a member of the [Black Briar Library].¡±) There was a lot more to it than just that, for the first volume but it was what he could make out through the eldritch script that continued to creep and crawl across the page rendering most of the page illegible when it wasn¡¯t rending his mind. All he could tell for sure between Briar¡¯s explanation and the book¡¯s text is that as a member of the Black Briar Library, he¡¯d gain some kind of power from working with Mr. Peabody. A power that he couldn¡¯t define even as he could see the answer written on the edge of his vision. He closed his eyes for a moment, waiting for the script that wasn¡¯t really there to fade before taking a calming breath and reading the other volume at his disposal. The one that whether because it was innate to him, or because of the trial he¡¯d gone through to unknowingly acquire it provided far more details for him in what he could make out while causing far less stress. (¡°The Ashes Of War (Volume I) -Smoldering Ashes: Costs I Fantasy Page- Quick Read. Search your Returned Library for a Melee or Fire Page and add it back to your hand. -Rekindling Ashes: When triggering Smoldering Ashes to draw a Melee or Fire Page, you can Consume III Stacks of Heat per Cost to immediately play it for Damage*II.¡±) He still didn¡¯t understand what all of that meant, even with Briar¡¯s attempt at an explanation a few days prior, but the fact that he understood a larger part of the Volume¡¯s eldritch secrets was reassuring in a way that the former Volume wasn¡¯t. ¡°So which one are you taking with you?¡± Briar asked her curiosity clear as she watched him with a gaze he swore could almost swear was reading him as if he were a book. The Crimson Carnival: Chapter II, The Fairgrounds The Crimson Carnival: Chapter II, The Fairgrounds --- Gregory Fischer --- Instead of focusing on Briar¡¯s reaction, he went ahead and opened the book Mr. Peabody had given him. An act that unleashed hundreds upon thousands of pages from the book, far more than it should¡¯ve been capable of containing as he and the dog were wrapped in a cocoon of glowing paper. He couldn¡¯t help but steel himself as he remembered what happened the last time this had occurred. How it had forced him to watch some of the more¡­ painful clips of his life. Things that while now healing -something they hadn¡¯t done in years- were still sore in a way he didn¡¯t want to poke. Mercifully, no such thing happened as instead the pages began to burn away leaving them in a completely new location from their previous one. An experience that even having been teleported once or twice before, was still a jarring experience. Even more so since he hadn¡¯t even felt the rush of magic that usually accompanied such an act. Looking around he realized that wherever he was it was late into the afternoon, the sun just a few hours from setting. (Shit, I¡¯d have to be on the other side of the world for that to happen.) He¡­ was putting a lot more faith in Briar¡¯s ability to get him home than he was really comfortable with. (Do not think about how complicated a teleportation matrix is. Do not think about how complicated a teleportation matrix is. Do not think about how complicated a teleportation matrix is.) Pulling out and lighting another cigarette, he forced himself to actually take in his surroundings beyond the sky and time of day. Something he¡¯d instinctively done first due to what happened the first time he¡¯d looked up after the library sent him somewhere. (Well, a lack of eldritch horrors is always a good start.) The buildings around him held all sorts of colorful attractions and were all surrounded by a number of lights that were currently off. Each building was vaguely shaped in a way that he could recall from the one or two times he¡¯d been to a fair or carnival back when he was a kid, and yet also strangely empty of hosts to maintain them. (Just means fewer people I have to deal with.) In the distance he could just barely make out a number of what he assumed to be rides of some kind, a massive ferris wheel being the most recognizable. (Can use that as a compass point.) Despite the festive surroundings, there were a few people he could sporadically see on the roads, but nowhere near the number he could usually find on the city streets. (Alright, as long as they don¡¯t get too close I can handle a few people here and there.) He ignored the way Mr. Peabody stared at him as he worked his way through three more cigarettes before finally saying, ¡°Alright, we¡¯re here and I need to figure out where to find a story. First step in a new environment is always recon.¡± He glanced at the dog. ¡°Which is supposed to be the scouts job¡­¡± Said dog continued to stare at him from behind its glasses. He took in a lungful of smoke before sighing it out and watching the smoke rise as he finished off the last cigarette of this little smoke break. With no real help here, he set out on his own keeping his head on a swivel as he tried to take in as much of these fairgrounds as he could, slowly building up a mental map. A mental map that told him (this place is massive. I¡¯ve been walking for at least an hour and I haven¡¯t seen any major landmarks outside of the ferris wheel and I can¡¯t tell if I¡¯m any closer to that thing.) If he didn¡¯t know better he¡¯d swear someone had enchanted these grounds with a spatial enchantment. A branch of magic that he only knew in so much as how to make implode, something he had no intention of testing while inside said possible enchantment. (And even then I¡¯m not sure that¡¯s what¡¯s going on here.) He could feel a faint amount of magic in the air, but it was spread too thin to really know what it was doing. More of an ambient existence like the faint thrum that was common to his own city, only noticeable because its underlying flavor was different despite being the same thing at its core. (Almost like someone slipping a different brand of cigarette into your carton.)The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. He was getting frustrated enough that he was tempted to stop for a smoke break, even if he¡¯d been steadily pulling new ones out of his pack as he marched along. (Seriously, where am I supposed to find a ¡®Story¡¯ in this place? Briar said the book would help me but¡­) With no better ideas, he went ahead and pulled the book out and found two edits to the main index. The first being a new section titled, Borrowed Books and a small change to Working Draft(s). Namely that (s) newly added to the end. Deciding to check with the section he had an actual frame of reference for, he focused on Working Draft(s) causing the book to flip to an index similar to the ones he¡¯d found in most of the other sections. Even if this one only had a single line. (¡°The Crimson Carnival?¡±) Focusing on that line pulled up another writer¡¯s brainstorming page, this one with a circle containing The Crimson Carnival with a single line and a circle around it that read (¡°Prologue(?)¡±) as if the book wasn¡¯t sure that was what this was or not. ¡°Real helpful¡­¡± He dryly told the book before flipping back to the main index and focusing on Borrowed Books to see what had been added to the magical book. A section that once opened, he found, looked very similar to his own Current Story. If compressed to a singular page rather than being spread across two like his own. The top half of the page was taken up by an ink picture of Mr. Peabody lay on the ground in front of a fireplace, looking like he was reading an open book in front of him. Below this was the shifting eldritch script that he was slowly adapting to, even if the words were both very similar and very different to what his own book contained. (¡°Name: Herman L. Peabody, Species: Lupus Sapien, Genre: Adventure, Classification: Tactician/Infiltrator/Scout, Derivative Addendum: None.¡±) He read with a frown, wondering if he should be offended that the book considered the dog to be a tactician and not him. Deciding that he was just going to put this under the category of ¡®Library Weirdness¡¯ and ignore it, he moved onto the next section listing a familiar set of symbolic attributes. (Slash, Blunt, Pierce, Mind, Spirit, Fire, Ice, Electric, Light, and Darkness¡­ With a circle and slash next to Mind, and a¡­ cracked shield(?) next to Fire.) That amused him, if only slightly. (So he¡¯s got no mind and is weak to fire¡­ sounds about right for an animal.) Pushing past the faint ache that was building from looking at the book for so long, he continued down the page expecting to find a section similar to his own collection of skills. Only instead he found something that looked more like an abbreviated pair of his Volumes, that were shifting twice as much as his own text. Enough so that he could only get the vaguest impressions from the second of the two, and only because of the overlap it had with one of his own Volumes. (¡°Black Briar Delivery Scout: This soul is a member of the Black Briar Library. Spend (1 Blank Page) to search a number of chapters from the top of your opponent¡¯s library equal to the number of faction members in play. If one of these chapters is legible and costs less than your faction count, you may pay the cost and read it.¡±) He found himself pinching the bridge of his nose as he snapped the book shut, trying to make sense of what any of that meant and finding himself coming up blank. The pain from reading so much eldritch scrawl at once being too much to focus right now. By the time his migraine had faded and he was halfway able to think again, he lit a new cigarette and puffed away at it. Hoping the chems would take the edge off before his head exploded. A barking sound forced him to wince, the sound doing nothing to help him even as it drew his attention towards Mr. Peabody a fair bit away from him staring at him. ¡°Look I¡¯ve got a migraine, we can get moving once it calms down.¡± He told the dog. The dog -not understanding him- barked once more, before looking at something in front of it. ¡°Stupid dog¡­¡± He grumbled, forcing himself to make his way over if only to spare himself more of that stupid barking. (Remember, your boss won¡¯t like you roasting her pet alive.) Even then it was still a tempting thought. As he got closer he realized the dog was staring at a stand of some kind between two cardboard clowns, the stand having what looked like a massive map of the park. And more importantly a number of paper maps. (Where was this thing an hour ago?) Taking the map in, he found a number of attractions listed and while he doubted that the various rides would find him one of these stories Briar wanted, he did see a few that might have something. The Crimson Carnival: Chapter III, Lost At The Ferris Wheel The Crimson Carnival: Chapter III, Lost At The Ferris Wheel --- Gregory Fischer --- Over the last hour that he¡¯d been attempting to explore this place, he¡¯d come to the conclusion that something was going on with the place to mess with its proportions. As demonstrated by his attempts to get closer to the only landmark he¡¯d been able to see in this place. Which is why rather than risking getting even more lost in an attempt to find somewhere new, he was going to see if the map could get him to said landmark. Namely the giant ferris wheel in the center of the carnival slowly spinning away as the day had progressed. The map itself was seemingly harmless, just a colorful little paper that just based on his last hour could not actually contain the entirety of the park on its surface. Even his bored attempts to see if there was some kind of magic bound to the paper proved ultimately fruitless. Yet despite this, with the map in hand he still somehow made progress towards the ferris wheel, the giant construct slowly growing larger as he did. The thing towering as high as some of the skyscrapers back home in the city¡¯s cramped streets, which stood in fair contrast to how low every other building near it was by comparison. The fact that he¡¯d spotted several more of the map stands since picking up the first, in spite of not seeing a single one during his initial exploration assured him that even if he couldn¡¯t sense anything weird with the paper there was something weird going on with it. (Maybe it works like a passkey of some kind to get around whatever field this place is covered in.) It wouldn¡¯t be the first time he¡¯d seen a blanket perception field in play, but it would be the first time seeing one outside of a building or active warzone. (Especially on this scale¡­ but it makes a lot more sense than the spatial theory at least¡­ Not that either really helps me.) The longer this all dragged on the more he just wanted to find a story and get back the library, the weirdness slowly eating at his paranoia as he burned through more and more of his cigarettes. (I really need to ask Briar how to make regular cigarettes instead of my special smokes if all her jobs are going to be like this.) With that thought in mind and Mr. Peabody walking just a bit in front of him, he finally stepped into a large clearing of sorts around the ferris wheel. As if all the other buildings nearby shied away from the massive behemoth. (Damn, this thing is obscenely big¡­) It was fully possible that alone was the reason this thing was at the center of the carnival, but something in his gut was sure that, (there¡¯s got to be a story to this thing.) He took a look around the clearing wondering if there were any festival employees or something he could interro- talk to about the ferris wheel or any of the other weirdness he was picking up about this place. Even if the latter was likely to be a deadend given how even in his city where magic and science went hand and hand very few people actually understood more than the utmost basics about it. (And I don¡¯t see this place being full of scholars. At best I¡¯ll find a fellow theory dropout who put their stuff into practice.) In the end though the carnival appeared to still be as empty as it had been the entire time he¡¯d been there, if not more so with how the only person he could see was a small- (Is that kid?) He frowned, seeing a small pale child with dark hair staring up longingly at the ferris wheel. A second glance around the place had him wondering, (where¡¯s this kid¡¯s parents?) With the way this place had been, if they¡¯d been separated the kid might never find them on his own, and¡­ ¡°Fuck¡­¡± He cursed. Mr. Peabody looked at him curiously. ¡°Ignore me, I¡¯m just sticking my nose in someone else¡¯s business.¡± He told the dog as he started toward the child, figuring even if he couldn¡¯t find a ¡®Story¡¯ he¡¯d at least help this kid find their parents. (Me and my bleeding heart¡­)This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. As he got closer to the kid he realized that they were wearing a black and white outfit not too different from what he¡¯d seen all of the clown displays wearing. Something he¡¯d never really seen in the city off of a TV screen, with several large fuzzy spheres on their shoes and shirt acting like buttons, and that was before taking into account the massive white thing they had wrapped around their collar. (I guess they¡¯re dressed up for the carnival or whatever.) Even when he was standing right next to the kid, they didn¡¯t notice him, their eyes still staring up at the ferris wheel as they sort of bounced on their toes. ¡°You okay, kid?¡± The little one startled before turning to him with half-lidded eyes wrapped in black paint alongside the pale grayish white that made up the rest of their face barring their nose. He couldn¡¯t help but grimace at the way the kid inched away from him, more than aware of how offputting he could look even on a good day. Running a hand across the back of his neck, he tried to reassure the kid by explaining that, ¡°You just look a little young to be out here on your own and¡­¡± It was occurring to him that he didn¡¯t really have much experience with kids, not outside of- (The little bodies laid surrounded by cinder and ash floating through the air despite his best efforts to-) He shook his head. (Don¡¯t think about that.) Instead he focused on the kid in front of him, (the one I can help¡­) He sunk to a crouch so that he wasn¡¯t quite towering over the little one. ¡°Do you need help finding your parents?¡± ¡°Parents¡­?¡± The child slowly repeated, before shaking their head. ¡°I don¡¯t have those¡­¡± ¡°Oh¡­¡± He grimaced. Mr. Peabody bumped into his side, before sitting in front of the kid and panting happily. ¡°Doggy!¡± The child smiled with half-lidded eyes. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ right.¡± He nodded with a wry grin. ¡°Do you want to pet the¡­ doggy?¡± The kid turned to him with an excited if half-asleep look. ¡°Can I?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± He awkwardly assured the kid. The little clown nervously reached out and started petting Mr. Peabody, the dog bumping against the kid¡¯s hand and clearly enjoying the treatment much as it had when Briar had been doing the same. After letting the child enjoy themselves for a few moments, he risked asking, ¡°If uh, if you don¡¯t have¡­ parents, um, who looks after you?¡± ¡°Mm, Big Sis is the one who looks after us¡­¡± The kid answered, more concerned with petting the dog than talking to him. ¡°And¡­ where is your Big Sis?¡± He prodded, hoping to get the kid back where they belonged so that he could get back to his job without worrying about this. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± The child admitted, not seeming to really care that they didn¡¯t. (Worrying, but maybe they¡¯re just too young to consider it on their own¡­) He couldn¡¯t help but run a hand down his face at that thought. ¡°Alright¡­ well when was the last time you saw your big sis?¡± The kid blinked, thinking about the question before saying, ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± ¡°Right¡­¡± He sighed, tapping his foot and really tempted to grab one of his cigarettes. (No, those things are terrible for kids. Especially one this young¡­) ¡°What does your sister look like?¡± ¡°She¡¯s super pretty!¡± The child smiled. ¡°I¡¯m sure, but¡­ What color hair does she have?¡± He tried, realizing he was going to have to be a bit more specific with the kid. ¡°Yellow and orange like the sunrise!¡± The little one answered, pointing towards the horizon that had started to change color as the sun began to set. He didn¡¯t bother to correct the kid as he frowned at the skyline realizing how late it was getting. (His sister is probably worried sick by now.) Despite knowing that he likely wasn¡¯t going to find her he still took a look around the clearing hoping to find the kid¡¯s sister. (And she¡¯s not here¡­) ¡°Can we ride the ride?¡± ¡°Huh?¡± He blinked, turning his attention back to the child tugging at his shirt. ¡°I¡¯m too small to ride by myself.¡± The kid explained pointing up the stairs to an open carriage on the wheel. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ I¡¯m not sure if that¡¯s a good idea.¡± (Especially if I want to find their sister before it gets dark¡­) His eyes trailed up the behemoth of a ride, thinking about how long such a massive ride would take. (Then again, we might be able to spot where their sister is if we ride it¡­ Though she¡¯d probably have moved by the time we come back down¡­) ¡°Please? I¡¯ve been saving my tickets.¡± The child asked him before digging inside their shirt and pulling out a long string of orange paper tickets. ¡°I have enough for both of us¡­ I think¡­¡± Book (II) The Crimson Carnival: Chapter IV, Day Ends And The Carnival Begins Book (II) The Crimson Carnival: Chapter IV, Day Ends And The Carnival Begins --- Gregory Fischer --- Part of him was tempted to take the kid onto the ferris wheel, seeing how excited they were but given how late it was getting and the fact that this kid didn¡¯t actually know him. (Clearly no one taught this kid stranger danger¡­) ¡°Kid, you really should not be spending¡­ however long this ride takes with a stranger.¡± He sighed, once more crouching so he was eye level with the kid. ¡°It¡¯s not safe. There are a lot of creeps out there that could hurt you.¡± The child slowly blinked at him. ¡°So we¡¯re not riding?¡± ¡°No. We¡¯re going to try and find your sister.¡± He told the kid as he stood back up. ¡°Then you guys can ride it together rather than with some burned out old guy.¡± ¡°But sis never has time to do anything¡­¡± The lost child frowned glumly. Something he couldn¡¯t help but wince at. ¡°Then¡­ I¡¯ll just have to have a talk with her.¡± He wasn¡¯t sure what he could do, especially if some girl was stuck raising their kid sibling by themselves, but¡­ (Is there really any but? What can I do if they¡¯re in that bad of a spot? I¡¯m not from here, nor am I in the best spot myself¡­) He waited for the kid to stash their tickets back in their strange little suit before pulling out his map and telling himself to, (Just focus on what you can do Greg¡­) ¡°Alright, it looks like there¡¯s a help center here on the other side of the park. Maybe they can help us track your sister down.¡± (At the very least it¡¯s better than wandering blind with whatever effect is going on here.) ¡°Okay¡­¡± The lost child nodded, not putting up any protest and just sounding as depressed as Gregory was getting. (I need to cheer the kid up.) He grimaced, knowing that his ¡®good day¡¯ was going to become a ¡®bad one¡¯ if this kept up, and that (the kid doesn¡¯t need to see that kind of thing from me.) Looking around the clearing he found a small cotton candy machine, with a clown manning it. (That¡¯ll do.) ¡°Watch the kid for a second.¡± He idly told Mr. Peabody, hoping the dog was smart enough to stay. ¡°I¡¯ll be back in a second.¡± After making his way over to the stand he pulled out some money from his wallet and offered it to the clown, a tall masculine figure wearing a smiling mask over their face. The clown shook their head before pointing to a nearby sign. When he tried to read it he found the script to be in a language he couldn¡¯t understand, before after not even a moment it began to creep and crawl until it became something legible to him, an ever so faint ache inside of his head. (Was that the carnival or¡­) He shifted the book in his hand before sighing as he read the sign telling him they only accepted tickets for their treats, not cash. ¡°Look, this isn¡¯t for me. This is for the kid over there.¡± He told the clown. ¡°He¡¯s lost and upset. I¡¯m just trying to get him something to cheer him up until I can get him to his sister. I¡¯ve got credit chits, you give me one of these cotton candy things and you can pocket this for yourself. No need to tell your bosses.¡± The clown stared at him silently for a moment, before grabbing a stick off the stand and putting it into the machine where it began to spit out a flurry of candy far sweeter than anything he¡¯d ever eat. (But kids like sweets right?)You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. He set the credits on the counter as he accepted the treat. ¡°Thanks man.¡± With the treat in hand he made his way back to the lost child, who accepted it with wide -for the kid- eyes before taking a rather large chomp out of cotton candy. ¡°Yummy~¡± He gave the kid a wry grin. ¡°Like it?¡± ¡°Uh-huh.¡± The lost child smiled, showing off the candy dissolving across their teeth. ¡°Good, but now we need to get going if we want to find your big sis.¡± He told the kid, offering his hand. ¡°Al-wight.¡± The lost child nodded, taking his hand. With neither of them at risk of a depressed spiral, they started making their way through the park following the directions on the map in the hopes of not getting lost to whatever magic blanketed these fairgrounds. As they did so, he couldn¡¯t help but notice how rather than the number of people decreasing, the number wandering the fairgrounds had only increased as the sun began to kiss the horizon. (I guess this is some kind of night festival or something.) He¡¯d seen a few similar parties back home, but they weren¡¯t exactly a common occurrence, and certainly not something he¡¯d ever attended given his own¡­ issues. (At least none of them were ever this big¡­) Luckily, no one seemed to give much mind to the scruffy burn out and the monochrome child as they made their way through. Everyone else seemingly enjoying themselves at the various carnival games, or munching away at overly sugary treats like the kid was. (At least some people are having fun tonight.) With all of these people out and about, and his head on a swivel for the kid¡¯s sister, he noticed something he hadn¡¯t before when he¡¯d been simply glazing people out and hoping they¡¯d ignore him if he ignored them. Namely that all of the clowns attending the various attractions were all wearing masks, be it the one handing out toys at a shooting game, the one handing out balloons, or the ones handing out treats for tickets. Whatsmore, now that he was watching him he realized that (none of the clowns are talking¡­) His fingers itched to reach for a cigarette, possibly one of his ¡®special¡¯ smokes as he started to get a bad feeling that he knew had nothing to do with the growing crowd. ¡°I¡­ think we need to find your sister and get both of you out of here.¡± ¡°Why?¡± The lost child asked, sounding confused. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯ve got a bad feeling. Something isn¡¯t right¡­¡± He tried to explain, not wanting to make the little one worry more than he had to. (After all, if it comes down to it I can protect the kid.) ¡°Like a tummy ache?¡± The kid frowned in concern. ¡°Heh, something like that.¡± He huffed. Before he could say anything else, Mr. Peabody bumped into his leg fairly hard. ¡°What is¡­¡± He trailed off as he noticed the dog glaring at something, not quite growling but still with its teeth bared. Following the dog¡¯s gaze he found a clown stepping out from between two of the stalls with a number of balloons in hand. (Okay, why¡¯s that one setting the dog off?) The clown wasn¡¯t that different from one they¡¯d passed a few minutes ago. He almost dismissed it, if not for the fact that he noticed another clown shortly following the first, and then a third after that. Ever so slowly he turned to the kid, and crouched pretending he was distracted by his temporary ward, when in reality he was using his peripheral vision to look around. And even with his vision being less than stellar outside of his glasses, it wasn¡¯t that hard to notice just how many clowns were stepping out of the dark corners of the festival. ¡°Oh, the sun¡¯s going sleepy-bye¡­¡± The kid told him, drawing his attention to the horizon where the last few rays of light were fleeing as if scared of what was about to occur. He wrapped his arms around the lost child and picked them up. For a brief moment, a second so short that he thought he might¡¯ve imagined it, the entire festival went pitch black save for the glowing red eyes of every clown in the carnival. Every light in the carnival flashed on as music began to play throughout the park, a jolly tune of fun and excitement for all who heard it, one that was only highlighted as fireworks began to erupt across the sky bathing everything in colorful delight. A direct contrast to the screams that began to tear through the air. All around them the clowns tossed their masks to the side, revealing smiling mouths full of fangs and glowing red eyes as one and all they lunged for the nearest festival goer before sinking their teeth in. He pressed the kid¡¯s face into his chest as he dove between two of the attractions. Not wanting to risk the child seeing the slaughter as he got them off the main street and hopefully away from the Crimson Carnival¡¯s Carnivorous Clowns. And as he ran into the darkness, clutching the child close as screams echoed all around, he heard a joyous laugh tinged with insanity spread from the speakers all over the park before that mad voice announced that, ¡°Now the Crimson Carnival truly begins!¡± The Crimson Carnival: Chapter V, Escaping Carnivorous Cannibal Clowns The Crimson Carnival: Chapter V, Escaping Carnivorous Cannibal Clowns --- Gregory Fischer --- ¡°Shit. Shit. Shit!¡± He cursed, under his breath as he ducked and hid in the shadows of the carnival attractions. (No traps. Lures to bring prey in.) And given the sheer number of cries he could hear, he didn¡¯t doubt how effective a lure it was. Cries and screams that reminded him so much of (innocents ran through the streets, fleeing from the soldiers as-) He shook his head. (No. Can¡¯t get lost in memories. Need to protect the kid.) ¡°W-what¡¯s going on?¡± The little one asked him, voice shaking in fright. ¡°Noth-¡± He bit his tongue, because while he didn¡¯t want to scare the child, (lying won¡¯t help here.) ¡°There are¡­ There are monsters here.¡± ¡°Mon-Monsters?¡± The kid repeated with no small amount of worry. ¡°They¡¯re dressed like the clowns.¡± He tried to explain. ¡°And they¡¯re¡­ They¡¯re hurting people¡­ We need to run and hide.¡± ¡°What¡­ what about big sis?¡± The lost child frowned. (Because of course they would¡­) He grimaced, not sure how to tell the kid their sister was probably dead. ¡°We¡­ We¡¯ll try to find her, but¡­ we need to find a way out of the park too. We need to get away from-¡± The fabric of the wall next to them was ripped to the side, revealing a smiling clown with a maw full of bloodstained fangs and glowing red eyes. ¡°What do we have here?¡± He dropped the kid, hoping the fall wouldn¡¯t hurt them too badly, as he stood and turned towards the clown before quickly delivering an Opening Strike to their chest and following up with a Heated Fist to their face. The clown stumbled back, despite the seemingly broken angle of its neck. The fact that it didn¡¯t drop from such an injury a testament to its inhuman strength. (Or to how much Briar¡¯s book weakened me.) He was sure he put more magic into those flames, enough to burn the face off of most threats and there were barely any burns on this thing''s face. A fact that did not bode well, given the two other clowns he could see behind this one turning away from the corpse they were making their meal. The first clown gripped the top of its head before snapping it back into place, crimson eyes never leaving Gregory as it stared in shock. ¡°How did someone like you make it here? The night ¡®s just begun~¡± Normally, he¡¯d happily bet on his ability to take the trio of clowns in a fight, no matter their inhuman nature, but between the book limiting his spellwork and the kid¡­ He glanced behind him where the lost child was cowering as he pulled out his pack of smokes, before pulling one out with his lips and lighting it with a snap of his prosthetic fingers. As the smoke entered his lungs he could feel the chemicals twisting inside him, sparking off a chain reaction that filled him with power. The clown took this moment to rush him, something he expected and easily parried with his arm, the monster¡¯s claws causing sparks to fly off his prosthetic. Having clearly expected that to rip through his arm, the untrained clown stumbled off balance leaving him free to grab it by the back of its head and slam his metal fist into its face with as much force as he could muster. Shattering the monster¡¯s nose as he sent it flying onto its back in a burst of flames nearly twice the size of his previous Heat Fist. The other two clowns growled as they started towards him, one dropping to all four as the other ripped out one of the beams supporting the tent, causing it to half collapse behind them. Inhaling as deeply as he could, he found his Special Smoke fading faster than it normally did. (Another side effect of this stupid book?) With time not on his side, he took a stance ready to fight the two remaining Carnivorous Clowns. Or he would have if the rest of the tent didn¡¯t promptly collapse on top of them, leaving the pair struggling to get out from under the tarp. A barking sound drew his attention towards Mr. Peabody and another shattered support pipe, where the dog barked again before running off. He shook his head and glanced at the pinned monsters, something that let him notice an even larger number of blood red eyes looking his way from the other side of the collapsed tent. ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s follow the dog.¡± He told the kid, picking them up before using the last of his Special Smoke¡¯s power to take off as fast as he could. All around him the screams had begun to dim, a sign that was made all the more worrying as more and more growling could be heard alongside the sound of meat being ripped apart. ¡°You¡¯ve any idea where you¡¯re going?¡± He couldn¡¯t help but ask the dog he was following in the hopes that what Briar had said about it being a good scout held true. They both skidded to a stop as they came across a road covered in bodies and ferally feasting beasts. A few of which were slowly turning their way as the fireworks above lit the scene in even more gruesome detail.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Going to take this as a no.¡± He grimaced, ready to turn around and try another route. ¡°Mister the mean clowns!¡± The kid cried, causing him to glance over his shoulder and see the way they¡¯d come being cut off by a number of the Carnivorous Clowns competitively climbing atop each other in pursuit of their mutual prey. ¡°Fuck!¡± He cursed, just as Mr. Peabody somehow tore a hole in a nearby tent before sprinting through it. ¡°Fuck it!¡± With nowhere else to go he continued to follow after the dog as it tore a hole through the otherside of an attraction filled with (flammable) prizes. (Well, there¡¯s an idea!) Clenching his prosthetic hand, he infused it with as much heat as he could while so close to the kid before running it across the prizes as he passed them by, hoping that a small fire would be enough to slow the clowns down. On the other side of the now burning attraction he found himself running into a brick building far more firmly built than the cloth tents that made up the rest. Or rather he found himself spinning on his heel, so that when he crashed into the broken window the kid wouldn¡¯t be hurt. His head hit the ground with a painful thud as he toppled over the window sill and into a pile of broken glass. Something he would¡¯ve been more worried about if he didn¡¯t see slowly fading pages floating around him. A sign that Briar¡¯s book had taken the damage in his stead, if he understood her prior explanation right. (Guess it is good for something after all.) ¡°You okay?¡± He asked the kid, not sure if said book magic had protected the kid from all of that glass. The lost child nodded but didn¡¯t say anything, looking more than a little overwhelmed by everything that was going on. ¡°Good.¡± He nodded back, before kicking off the wall as he sat and tried to climb to his feet. As he did so he couldn¡¯t help but glance through the window he¡¯d come through, and the fabric of the tent in turn. The fire he¡¯d started had spread a lot faster than he¡¯d expected, though he could still just make out a couple of clowns trying to chase after in spite of that. ¡°This way!¡± A voice shouted, drawing his attention to a door that was swinging shut. Knowing his only other option was to risk the monster infested streets once more, he ran through the door, a bit of heat in his hand in case this was a trap of some kind. On the other side he found himself in a hall with a couple of other doors, one of which had a laughing clown with its back to them. He was tempted to see if could sneak past before Mr. Peabody took that decision out of his hands by running forward and leaping onto the Carnivorous Clown¡¯s back, the dog digging its teeth into the monster¡¯s neck. ¡°Stupid dog!¡± He growled, before setting the kid down as the clown stumbled back into the hall, knowing a fight was inevitable now. At least until some teenager ran out of the room and stabbed what looked like a broken mop into the clown¡¯s chest. The monster seemed to struggle for a few more seconds before slowly going limp and falling to the floor under the combined assault of the teen and dog. ¡°We¡¯re safe¡­¡± The darkhaired teen gasped, his eyes drifting towards Mr. Peabody before petting the dog. ¡°Thanks for the save boy.¡± ¡°Not sure if I¡¯d call us safe with how many of these things are out there.¡± He warned the teen, causing the boy¡¯s attention to snap to him and the child. The latter of which made the teen tense up. ¡°What is that? A-a mini-clown?¡± The teen asked, trying -(and failing)- to remove his makeshift spear from the clown. ¡°He¡¯s a kid.¡± Gregory answered the obvious. ¡°He was separated from his sister and I couldn¡¯t exactly leave a kid out there in this mess.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± The teen paused before nodding and adjusting his leather jacket. ¡°Yeah, sorry¡­ It¡¯s just he¡¯s kind of dressed like¡­¡± ¡°Given what I¡¯ve overheard I¡¯m sure they find doing a kid up like them hilarious.¡± Gregory shrugged, still standing between the kid and the teen. ¡°This whole nightmare seems to be some kind of festival to them.¡± ¡°Y-yeah, it does¡­¡± The teen agreed, giving up on the spear. Not letting his guard down just yet, Gregory gave the teen a proper once over. Taking note of how torn up his jacket and pants were, as well as the bloodstains on him. (Kid ¡®s been through the ringer, that much is clear.) ¡°Who-who are you talking to?¡± A feminine voice asked, as another teenager stepped out of the room the first had been hiding in. ¡°O-oh! H-hello¡­¡± ¡°Hey.¡± He awkwardly waved, feeling more awkward as another person entered the conversation. Thankfully he was saved from this as a door slammed somewhere in the building, ¡°They¡¯re searching the building.¡± ¡°Shit. We need to run!¡± The male teenager hissed, grabbing the girl¡¯s wrist. ¡°No. You need to hide.¡± He disagreed, moving to pick the Carnivorous Clown¡¯s corpse up. (Well, at least this thing is lighter than a human corpse.) ¡°What are you doing?!¡± The boy hissed. ¡°Faking an escape path.¡± He quietly explained, before pulling his arm back and punching the clown as hard as he could, knocking it a bit down the hall while leaving a streak of blood on the wall. To double down on this he pulled out one of his cigarettes before tearing it in half and lighting the end. ¡°In the closet.¡± He ordered as he tossed the cigarette down the hall. ¡°If we¡¯re lucky they¡¯ll take the bait and move on.¡± ¡°And why shouldn¡¯t we just run?¡± The boy frowned. He gave the teen a look as he motioned for the lost child to enter the room, his heart breaking a little with the way the kid¡¯s eyes were locked on the clown corpse. ¡°How much more running can you do before they catch you?¡± The teen looked away from him. ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± Before the boy could figure out what ¡®that¡¯ was, another door slammed closer by and he took the choice out of the teen¡¯s hand by shoving him in the room and quickly entering. Something Mr. Peabody was quick to follow up on, allowing him to close the door behind him even as it trapped them in the dark. He put a finger to his lips as he heard a scuffling in the hall, a sound that had the child clinging to his leg in fear. Straining his ears, he could just make out a voice halfway between a growl and hiss speaking. ¡°The firestarter killed this one¡­¡± ¡°Just a part of the game. The weak get culled while the strong have their fun.¡± A second dismissed. ¡°Either way they¡¯ll be caught by sunrise.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not so sure¡­ This one has magic of his own¡­¡± A third still, noted. ¡°A few mages always slip in.¡± The second voice pointed out. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure the Ringmaster lets them in to let other Nobles have their fun. We can only hope to catch such rare prey for ourselves before¡­¡± The voices trailed off too far for him to hear. Still he counted to a hundred, before risking searching for a light switch. After a moment, and a wince as his eyes adjusted, the lights turned on to reveal he and the rest of this little group were in a storage room of some kind, the walls lined with shelves full of what looked like cleaning supplies. ¡°Okay¡­ Keep quiet, but I think we¡¯ve bought ourselves a bit of breathing room now.¡± He told everyone, as he took in the worn and weary looks everyone was sporting. ¡°So¡­¡± The female teenager began. ¡°What now?¡± The Crimson Carnival: Chapter VI, A Smoke Break From The Nightmare The Crimson Carnival: Chapter VI, A Smoke Break From The Nightmare --- Gregory Fischer --- The first thing he did was pull out a cigarette and light it, needing the smoke after everything he¡¯d seen in the last half hour. (Especially now that I¡¯ve got three kids to babysit¡­) After inhaling as deeply as he could he took a look at the two teens. ¡°Names?¡± ¡°W-what?¡± The girl blinked before her eyes went wide behind her glasses. ¡°Oh, uh, I¡¯m Melanie and this is Louis.¡± ¡°Gregory¡­ Fischer.¡± He nodded. ¡°And, uh, the kid?¡± Louis asked, eyes darting towards the child that was currently petting Mr. Peabody. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t actually know¡­¡± He admitted, feeling kind of awkward in the fact that he hadn¡¯t thought to ask. (I really am shit with kids¡­) ¡°I found them out there, and was helping them find their sister before all of this.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ Um¡­¡± Melanie turned towards the lost child with a smile. ¡°Hi, my names Melanie. What¡¯s yours?¡± The child stared at her for a moment, slowly blinking as they considered the question with a growing frown. ¡°My name is¡­ Ferris?¡± ¡°Like a ferris wheel?¡± Melanie smiled. The child -Ferris- smiled back. ¡°Yeah!¡± Off to his side, Louis quietly asked him, ¡°Is Ferris a boy name or a girl name?¡± ¡°Boy¡­ I think?¡± He honestly wasn¡¯t sure what the child was, Ferris being a bit too young and pudgy to tell through their clown costume. (Not like it really matters.) He shook his head before turning back to Louis. ¡°Anyway, how¡¯d you two end up here?¡± ¡°We were just checking out the carnival that popped up outside of town?¡± Louis frowned, looking a bit confused. ¡°How did you end up here?¡± ¡°Boss sent me to investigate something.¡± He vaguely answered, more than used to needing to for his ¡®jobs¡¯ prior to joining the Library. ¡°Didn¡¯t give me a whole lot of details on the why.¡± ¡°That¡­ sounds suspicious as hell.¡± The teen told him. ¡°I¡¯m aware.¡± He just didn¡¯t care. ¡°You two being locals, you have any idea what¡¯s happening here?¡± ¡°No. Like he said, the carnival just appeared outside of our town and the three of us¡­¡± Melanie trailed off, before pulling her blue hoodie closed. ¡°The carnival appeared and we were checking it out¡­ got lost from how big this place apparently is and then¡­ stuff happened.¡± Louis finished for his friend. He took in a breath before letting it out, watching a small cloud of smoke rise as he tried very hard not to think about how often he¡¯d had ¡®stuff¡¯ happen to him and his. ¡°What about you?¡± Louis asked, breaking the awkward silence. ¡°You¡¯re clearly¡­ someone with that arm of yours¡­ are you like the CIA or something?¡± ¡°Or maybe you¡¯re one of those Asylum guys?¡± Melanie tried. (The fuck is a CIA? And why would I work for a mental asylum?) He was smart enough to keep those questions in his head, even as they led to the follow up of. (How far out did Briar ship me?) ¡°I¡¯ve told you that Asylum junk is a conspiracy theory. Probably just people filming a movie or something.¡± Louis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. ¡°We¡¯re surrounded by monsters which is what those Asylum people are supposed to be dealing with!¡± Melanie scoffed. ¡°You can¡¯t say my stuff is fake anymore!¡± Louis threw his hands up. ¡°Fine magic is real! It¡¯s not like that fact helps us at all!¡± (He thought magic was fake? How far out in the boonies am I?!) Even if these two were strangers he felt obligated as a Practitioner to tell them that, ¡°It¡¯s a lot more helpful than you think.¡± As he snapped his fingers and conjured a small bit of flame in his hand. ¡°Magic!!!¡± The female teen squealed at a pitch that had him promptly regretting his decision as she shook her friend. ¡°What else can you do?!¡± He grimaced. ¡°Not as much as I¡¯d like¡­ Something is screwing with my magic and only letting me do the bare basics.¡± ¡°So this carnival is affecting other magic users!¡± Melanie grinned as if that was somehow a good thing. He decided for morale¡¯s sake he wasn¡¯t going to correct her, or explain that his problem was actually his boss¡¯s fault. ¡°Okay¡­ Magic¡­¡± Louis took a deep breath, as the teen clearly adjusted his world view to something a little more¡­ (realistic.) ¡°That¡¯ll¡­ that¡¯ll help us with the clowns¡­ right?¡± He thought about it for a moment before saying that, ¡°I can probably take¡­ two or three on at a time with the way I am.¡± (Though that¡¯d probably be pushing my limits right now¡­) ¡°Alright, that¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s more than I could¡­¡± The teen confessed, looking a bit relieved even as he deflated. ¡°Still better to avoid a fight if we can.¡± He told them before pulling out the map of the carnival and spreading it out on the ground. Which while detailing a lot of the park, didn¡¯t actually reveal where the edge of the carnival was. ¡°The problem is I¡¯m not entirely sure how to get out of this place.¡± Louis frowned looking the map over. ¡°Can¡¯t we just pick a direction and run?¡± He shook his head and told him that, ¡°There¡¯s some kind of spatial enchantment on these grounds, keeps you from getting anywhere without a map.¡± before noticing something had changed about the map. ¡°These red spots weren¡¯t here before¡­¡± ¡°Did you¡­ get blood on it?¡± Melanie asked, her hands drifting to a couple of red spots on her own clothes. ¡°Even if I did, new spots wouldn¡¯t be showing up¡­¡± He pointed at one such spot forming. The teenager tilted her head. ¡°What does it mean?¡± Setting the question to the side for a moment, he continued to search the map for where they might be before finding what looked like a burned out tent near a street covered in¡­¡°It is blood¡­ just not ours¡­¡± ¡°What do you¡­ oh¡­¡± Melanie swallowed, going pale. Louis looked between them. ¡°What is it?¡±Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. ¡°The red dots are where people have died. The map has a sympathetic connection to the carnival and is changing as the grounds do.¡± He explained, his eyes scanning the map once more as he wondered, (why did they leave something like this where anyone could find it?) He recalled what the clowns in the hall had said, (Right¡­ This is all a game to them isn¡¯t it?) That was both good and bad for them. Good because it meant that they weren¡¯t taking them seriously. Bad because this meant the monsters were actively hunting them for sport, rather than going off of some instinct or need to do so. (Meaning they won¡¯t be giving up any time soon¡­) Melanie pointed to something on the map. ¡°What¡¯s this crown?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ but there¡¯s a path of red growing wherever it moves.¡± Which couldn¡¯t mean anything good. ¡°See if you can find any other marks like it.¡± ¡°Uh, there¡¯s a rose over here by this¡­ theater?¡± Louis added pointing to a different section of the map. ¡°There¡¯s also not much blood over here¡­ compared to the rest of the map at least¡­¡± He noticed another part of the map faintly moving. ¡°There¡¯s something going on with the haunted house¡­ and a fire emblem? Fire is definitely something I can handle.¡± ¡°But that¡¯s where we were when¡­¡± Melanie trailed off. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t think that place¡¯ll be very safe.¡± Louis cut in before he could ask ¡®when what happened¡¯ giving him a good enough idea of what the answer was. ¡°See there¡¯s a whole circle of blood around that place.¡± He wanted to say there was none inside it, but at the same time he didn¡¯t see much red on any of the buildings. (Meaning a lack of blood doesn¡¯t mean much.) Suddenly a paw tapped a part of the map, causing him to frown at the dog that had wandered over, ready to shoo it off with a glare. (You¡¯re supposed to be comforting Ferris.) ¡°Hey, there¡¯s two there.¡± ¡°What?¡± He frowned, turning his attention towards Melanie. ¡°There¡¯s two emblems there. A Jester¡¯s cap and¡­ a hat with a whip?¡± Melanie explained, pointing to a space near the circus tent. ¡°Meaning there¡¯s two there¡­¡± Assuming that the emblems represented the more dangerous of the monsters¡­ (Then that¡¯ll be a problem¡­) ¡°And maybe something important.¡± Melanie added. ¡°I mean, if there are two there then there¡¯s got to be a reason right?¡± ¡°Or they could just be friends?¡± Louis argued with a shake of his head. ¡°Look I¡¯m pretty sure these things are bad news¡­ I still say we should try our luck at just running to the edge of the map.¡± ¡°Maybe¡­ or maybe we need to beat one of these emblem guys to get out of here?¡± Melanie pointed out. ¡°If this place is magic, maybe we need a magic key to leave, like how you can¡¯t leave a level in a video game until you beat the boss?¡± Louis gave the other teen a dry look. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s how it works Mel¡­¡± ¡°If it isn¡¯t we -or rather I- could always beat the answer out of whoever we corner.¡± He threw out as he grabbed another cigarette. (With the way these things tend to go that¡¯s probably how this is going to end either way¡­) ¡°That¡­ might work.¡± Louis admitted, before frowning. ¡°Can you take one of them though? With your¡­ magic acting up I mean?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve done more with less.¡± He shrugged, lighting his smoke before taking a deep breath. ¡°Either way, before we figure out what we¡¯re going to do, we need to see if we can find anything of use in this place. I doubt there¡¯ll be anything to really change our route, but we might still find something useful.¡± Both of the teens gave the door a wary look, before Louis asked, ¡°Is that safe?¡± ¡°Safer than the trip we¡¯re going to have to make to get out of this mess.¡± He reminded the pair as he packed the map away. ¡°Point¡­¡± Louis grimaced, before trying the door. ¡°Remember to be quiet, and yell only if you see a clown out there.¡± He told the teens as they left the closet, leaving him alone with Ferris and Mr. Peabody. Part of him wanted to go scavenge the building with the kids, or maybe see if Briar''s book had changed in any way that might help him but upon seeing the little lost child still sitting there petting the dog he realized, (Shit. I¡¯m going to have to comfort the kid¡­) Deciding to just rip the bandage off, he took a seat next to the kid and asked, ¡°So¡­ how¡¯re you holding up?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± The kid mumbled. (Because of course the child can answer a question you can¡¯t half the time.) He scolded himself, as they fell into an awkward silence. ¡°Do¡­ Do you think big sis is safe?¡± Ferris asked after a moment. (Probably not¡­) He was emotionally competent enough to not tell the kid that. (Damn it¡­ The kid lost their parents and now their sister¡­ This whole situation is fucked¡­) He ran a hand down his face, before exhaling and letting out a small cloud of smoke. As he watched it rise into the air before fading against the ceiling, he got an idea for something he and his fellow ¡®Smokers¡¯ used to do. ¡°Hey, watch this.¡± He told the kid, before inhaling deeply. With the deft practice of someone trying to kill time during hours of monotonous boredom, he blew out a smoke ring before shooting several smaller rings through it. A glance to his side, showed that Ferris was watching him. He killed off his current cigarette, before blowing out more smoke and waving his hands through the air as he used a few well timed huffs and puffs to shape it into a jellyfish floating through the air. ¡°Whoa¡­¡± An awed Ferris said. With a grin, he repeated this trick a dozen times as with just a touch of magic he was able to make several little jellyfish float through the air a lot longer than the smoke alone would allow. (If I had all my magic I could do some really impressive stuff with this smoke.) As was the most impressive trick he knew without real magic was¡­ (Well, let¡¯s hope I can still do this¡­) He inhaled as much as his lungs could hold, which despite being a chain smoker would surprise many. After moving into a crouch in the center of the room he began exhaling as he both stood and spun in place, using his hands to twist the air around and keep the stream in shape before letting out a larger shape that with a few well placed tugs on the air created a ferocious face out of the smoke. Moving quickly he took another quick puff of his cigarette before putting a hand in front of his mouth and breathing out. An act that -if he got the angle right- made it look like the smoke dragon was breathing out a torrent of smoke from Ferris¡¯s point of view. ¡°Wow!¡± The kid clapped in amazement, before letting out a cough. (Shit.) ¡°Sorry¡­ Probably shouldn¡¯t have done that in such a small space.¡± He grimaced, waving away as much of the smoke as he could as he realized just how smokey the closet was getting. ¡°Let¡¯s get you out of here¡­¡± As he moved to help the kid up he noticed something moving in his peripheral vision before his head snapped to find Melanie and Louis watching from the doorway. (Good¡­ Thought a clown had snuck up on us again.) ¡°Um, we found a first aid kit.¡± Melanie told him, holding up a red box with a white cross on it. ¡°Hopefully, we won¡¯t need it but, uh, better to have it?¡± ¡°Definitely better to have it.¡± He agreed, as he helped Ferris out of the closet. (Especially with how much of a snafu all of this has become.) ¡°Was that your magic?!¡± Melanie suddenly blurted. He gave the girl a confused look. ¡°Sorry, it¡¯s just¡­ I¡¯ve always believed in magic but¡­ I didn¡¯t have proof it was real until¡­¡± The excited teenager gestured towards him. Fischer nodded in understanding, getting that feeling from back when he¡¯d learned to make his first few sparks. ¡°Trust me, if I had my magic I would¡¯ve done something a lot more impressive.¡± ¡°That was just a parlor trick me and the other Smokers used to play around with back in the war.¡± He let out a sigh as he remembered fond times with his unit. ¡°Had so much time between missions and we weren¡¯t really allowed to bring too much into the field, so we were always trying to find ways of killing time. And given how the only thing we all had on us were smokes, it became something of a competition to make the most complicated shows possible. That dragon settled things in my favor before¡­ things happened.¡± ¡°Oh¡­¡± Melanie mumbled, as Louis elbowed her. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. It wasn¡¯t the best time but¡­ I don¡¯t want to forget about it.¡± (Not again¡­) A lot of his nicer memories were covered in fog after so long dealing with his¡­ issues. With a bittersweet smile he explained that he ¡°Used to love it so much that I turned it into this whole thing with my magic.¡± ¡°You could make a lot of money if you could put on shows like that one.¡± Louis told him. ¡°I mean, even if that wasn¡¯t magic it was really cool.¡± ¡°Magic only would¡¯ve made it cooler!¡± Melanie added with an excited nod. He let out a bitter chuckle. ¡°Yeah, and in a way I guess I have made a career out of it¡­ and my fire, and ash¡­¡± (Probably would¡¯ve hated putting shows on a hell of a lot less though.) ¡°Oh¡­¡± The girl trailed off. After a moment, Louis piped up, ¡°Uh, is your book supposed to be glowing like that?¡± ¡°My book?¡± He frowned, before noticing that the book was faintly glowing. Hoping that this was Briar offering them an emergency evac he opened the book, and found himself staring at a new page. The Crimson Carnival: Chapter VII, Creeping Through The Carnival The Crimson Carnival: Chapter VII, Creeping Through The Carnival --- Gregory Fischer ¡ª The eldritch script creeping and crawling across the page, did little to deter his ability to read the contents of the page. Largely because this was a spell he was more than familiar with. (¡°Title: Smoke Screen Cost: 1 Fantasy Page Category: (Smoke) Spell Synopsis: Arguably the most basic spell of the School of Smoke, this does not change the fact that its utility makes it valuable to all who wield cinder and smoke as their weapons, be it as sword or shield. -Apply Concealed to Adjacent Allies and Blinded to Adjacent Enemies. -Generate 1 Stack of Smoke on the Field.¡±) The book wasn¡¯t lying when it called this the most basic of his smoke spells. Nor was it lying about the fact that it was one of his most frequently cast spells either given how it could offer him both a quick retreat and ambush. (And that¡¯s before we get to spell chaining.) ¡°Ooh! That¡¯s your grimoire isn¡¯t it?!¡± Melanie squealed, looking more than a little excited as she tried to read over his shoulder before wincing away. ¡°Ouchies!¡± ¡°Are you alright?¡± Louis asked, the teen¡¯s eyes warily glancing between Melanie and Fischer. ¡°Yeah, just a¡­ really bad headache.¡± Melanie grimaced. ¡°The book does that. Still does it to me if I try to read too much too fast.¡± He admitted as he snapped the book shut before holding his hand up and generating a small cloud of smoke. Not enough to do anything, but more than enough to test just how much of his magic had returned. The answer? (Not much¡­ I can generate the smoke but I can¡¯t shape it, or hold much power in it.) ¡°What exactly happened?¡± Louis frowned, stepping between Melanie and Fischer. He pulled out a cigarette before lighting it for a different test as he answered that, ¡°Got a slight work around for my magic¡­¡± He breathed out his smoke, finding that with his ¡®Special Smokes¡¯ he was able to create more smoke even if he still wasn¡¯t able to hold anything to it. (Feel like a fucking first year cadet¡­) ¡°Not that. What happened with Melanie?¡± Louis glared. ¡°Like I said, she read the book that doesn¡¯t like to be read.¡± He told the kid, because he¡¯d rather not go into all of the details about the whole thing when he himself was still figuring it out. Unfortunately, this still wasn¡¯t an answer that Louis liked, as demonstrated by his follow up of, ¡°What the hell is that supposed to mean?¡± ¡°No¡­ I think I get it.¡± Melanie cut in, still looking like her head hurt even if less so. ¡°It¡¯s like¡­ knowledge forbidden to humans? Or something like that? That¡¯s how you can do magic?¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say it¡¯s forbidden to humans.¡± He disagreed, having used magic for decades before this book screwed it up for him. ¡°More like you started with a flame hot enough to burn ya, rather than some simple cinders.¡± ¡°Like she tried to take on an optional boss before leveling up?¡± Louis guessed. ¡°Something like that.¡± (If the kid gets it he gets it.) ¡°Alright, so¡­ how do I level up?¡± Melanie asked, looking at Gregory as if he had any idea what she was talking about. ¡°That¡­ depends on what you¡¯re asking for.¡± He hedged, huffing on his cigarette. ¡°I¡¯m asking, how can I learn magic?¡± The teenager explained. ¡°Uh, Mel, I¡¯m not sure if that¡¯s a good idea¡­¡± Louis grimaced. ¡°With all the stuff going on out there, learning magic could be a lot of help!¡± Melanie argued with a vague gesture towards the outside. ¡°It could be if you were one of the lucky bastards born with the Anima Mutation.¡± He nodded, before clarifying that, ¡°But the way I had to learn it isn¡¯t such a quick fix.¡± ¡°And how did you have to learn it?¡± Melanie pressed. ¡°First you need a foci of some kind, something that can hold magic in it.¡± (Or drugs that let your blood hold the magic for you.) But knowing what his special smokes did to a person he wasn¡¯t going to offer those to a kid who didn¡¯t know better. (I¡¯m not like those asshole recruiters, getting a kid high on power before shipping them off¡­) ¡°Okay, and where can I find a foci?¡± Melanie prodded when she saw he wasn¡¯t going to continue on his own. ¡°Most of the time you have to make them, meaning you¡¯d have to find a magical plant or creature and rip a piece of it off. Or luck out and find one pre-made years ago.¡± He explained for the wannabe Practitioner. ¡°Both of those are going to have conditions based on what they¡¯re made from as to what they¡¯re good at. Fewer if you make it yourself since that gives the thing a sort of conceptual synchronization.¡± He was a bit unsure about how all of that worked given how he¡¯d been using his smokes for nearly ten times as long as he¡¯d used a foci, and even then he hadn¡¯t actually taken the elective on building your own more focused on learning more than the singular affinity the base training taught recruits. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose that¡¯s something I can find just floating around this place?¡± Melanie asked, sounding like she was pretty sure she already knew the answer and didn¡¯t like it. He shrugged, putting the butt of his cigarette out against the sole of his boot. ¡°If you do, it¡¯d probably try to eat you.¡± Louis gave his friend a cautious look. ¡°Mel¡­¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry I might want magic, but¡­ I¡¯m not stupid enough to throw my life away for it. Especially not after¡­¡± Melanie trailed off, causing a melancholic silence to fall over the teenage pair. While they were quiet, Ferris decided that this was a good time to tug on his leg and ask, ¡°Where are we going now?¡± He thought about it for a moment, his eyes drifting towards the teenagers as he immediately dismissed his preference for the haunted house. (Even if I¡¯ve got a fire advantage, it¡¯s not right to drag them back to where they probably watched someone die.) With that in mind he also briefly considered simply testing Louis¡¯s idea of making a run for it, before dismissing the idea as a bad go of things due to the spatial magic on this place. (Wouldn¡¯t be surprised if the place had a folding field locking us in one massive loop.) The crown was immediately shot down due to the sheer amount of blood that monster was leaving behind. (Not even going to try risking that kind of fight with three kids.)Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. A similar reasoning had him deciding that between however important the tent with the jester and the hat was, the rose was far safer for him to take the kids to. If only due to the apparent lack of blood in its immediate vicinity. ¡°We¡¯ll be heading to the theater. Hopefully the lack of¡­ red, means that whoever the rose is is non-hostile.¡± He explained for both the kid and the teenagers. ¡°I doubt it¡¯ll be that simple, but if we can maybe talk our way out of this then we should go for it.¡± ¡°I still think we should make a run for it¡­¡± Louis admitted, before letting out a frustrated sigh as the teen rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°But you are the one with experience here¡­¡± Fischer gave the kid a wry grin. ¡°Been doing this for almost a decade now.¡± (Even if all of this is new territory.) He figured it was best for everyone¡¯s sanity if he kept that little detail to himself. Which is why he proceeded to clap and tell everyone, ¡°Gather what you think we need, the sooner we get moving the sooner we can get out of here. I¡¯ll go make sure it¡¯s clear enough out there.¡± Something brushed against his leg and he found Mr. Peabody staring up at him. He gave the dog a curious look before shaking his head and making his way to the front of the building where Mr. Peabody cut him off with a growl. ¡°What did you catch rabies when you bit that clown?¡± He glared back at the dog, really hoping he wasn¡¯t going to have to kick his boss¡¯s pet. (Then again they¡¯re both why I¡¯m stuck in this mess in the first place¡­) Mr. Peabody seemed to look behind Fischer for a moment before the dog shook its head, and swung its head as it walked off, stopping ever so briefly to see if Gregory was following. He held his glare on the dog for another moment, before deciding that it wouldn¡¯t hurt to follow after the beast that while maybe not as smart as Briar thought, was at the very least smarter than he was giving it credit for. Following after, Mr. Peabody eventually led him to a door at the back of the building rather than the front. One with a very clearly labeled exit sign glowing red above it. ¡°If there¡¯s any clowns this way I¡¯m feeding you to them.¡± He warned the dog before slowly opening the door and finding himself in a back alley of sorts behind the various attractions. Stepping out he risked a look around to see if things had calmed down at all since his mad dash into the store. He could still see a few clowns here and there but nowhere near the swarm that had been chasing him through the streets barely half an hour ago. (Fireworks have stopped too, should make it easier to sneak through the alleys.) Especially since the few cannibal clowns he could see were either still snacking on their victims'' remains, or messing with the various attractions almost as if the lot of them were drunk. (Then again, if this is all a festival for them then they might be getting drunk.) ¡°Is it safe?¡± Melanie asked him when he got back to their hideout, the teen peeking into the alley as Mr. Peabody stood guard just outside of it. ¡°About as safe as this place can be.¡± He whispered as he pulled out the map. ¡°As long as we stay out of sight, and stay quiet we should be able to get to the theater. Since Louis has his little mop spear and I need my hands for my magic, you mind keeping Ferris with you?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Melanie nodded, offering the lost child a soft smile. ¡°You think you can hold my hand?¡± ¡°But I wanna stay with mister¡­¡± Ferris pouted, looking more than a little scared. He crouched down to be eye level with the little one. ¡°I¡¯ll be right here kid, I just need to keep guard and Melanie here is going to make sure you¡¯re safe if I have to fight the monsters again, alright?¡± Ferris didn¡¯t answer, still giving him a worried look. He couldn¡¯t help but sigh, as he pinched the bridge of his nose before trying to be more sympathetic if only because of how young Ferris was. ¡°Look kid, I need you to be brave and stay with Miss Melanie while we do this. I¡¯ll be where you can see me the whole time, I promise.¡± Ferris continued to stare at him for another moment before eventually nodding. ¡°Alright.¡± ¡°Good.¡± He smiled, ruffling the kid¡¯s hair as he stood before turning back to the teenagers. ¡°Let¡¯s get moving while we still can.¡± ¡°Right.¡± They both nodded, Melanie taking Ferris¡¯s hand and Louis giving him a nod. With nothing else to stay they all stepped out into the darkness of the alley, before slowly making their way through the streets. Only stopping to check around corners and make sure none of the clowns were nearby. Inspections that underlined his previous theory that most of these clowns were getting drunk, even if he didn¡¯t see much in the way of alcohol anywhere. (Might try to nab a bottle to burn if I did.) Even if this aided them in sneaking across the carnival, it did next to nothing to calm their nerves whenever they were forced to wait whenever a clown staggered a little too close to one alley or another. Especially whenever the drunken clowns decided to break or destroy something, their mad laughter echoing after the sound of shattering glass just a short distance away. Still, through perseverance and patience they were eventually able to find the theater, one of the few buildings on the street that apparently hadn¡¯t lit up when the crimson carnival came to life. (Which if it never turned on, would explain why no one was here for the clowns to go after¡­) The fact that the rose was still here, made that especially odd given how he was pretty sure the emblems represented the higher ranking members of this carnival. While pondering whether or not this was a trap of some kind, he idly noted Louis making his way over, the teen¡¯s eyes occasionally darting towards Melanie and Ferris. ¡°Hey, uh, you mind if I ask you something before we go in there?¡± He gave the kid a nod before pulling a cigarette out and telling Melanie. ¡°We¡¯re going to try the doors, can you see if anything of value is in the ticket booth? Doubt there¡¯s a key but, who knows?¡± ¡°Sure thing.¡± Melanie nodded, as they all crossed the street. ¡°Figured this wasn¡¯t something you wanted her to hear.¡± He explained, checking the door before anything else and finding it to be unlocked. ¡°Right, thanks¡­¡± Louis sighed, running a hand down his face. ¡°Look¡­ be honest with me, what are our chances of getting out of here?¡± ¡°Worst case scenario?¡± He checked as he lit his cigarette. ¡°We¡¯ve got to find a place to hold up until dawn. These things waited until nightfall exactly for a reason, and I doubt it was just for the fireworks. Odds are they¡¯re nocturnal and when the sun rises we¡¯ll have a lot more wiggle room.¡± ¡°Then why didn¡¯t we just hole up in the store?¡± Louis frowned. ¡°A number of reasons, such as the broken window and the possibility they might want to collect the dead clown¡¯s body out of the back before they all crash for the day. Whatsmore, take it from someone who¡¯s waited to die before. It''s far better to be active and doing something than just sitting there all night.¡± The last thing any of them needed was one of his ¡®episodes¡¯ kicking in while they were waiting for the monsters to come and eat them. (If I lose even a bit of my already flickering flames, one of these kids might die. And I can¡¯t let that happen.) ¡°That¡¯s¡­ Alright, I don¡¯t like it but¡­ I get it¡­¡± Louis admitted, before giving him a look. ¡°You didn¡¯t answer my question though. What are our odds of getting out of this nightmare?¡± ¡°As long as I don¡¯t die, you won¡¯t either.¡± He promised the kid, before pushing the door open just as he saw Melanie stepping out of the booth. ¡°Got it unlocked!¡± ¡°Good, because there¡¯s a ton of tickets and junk in there but nothing really useful.¡± Melanie told them as she and Ferris got closer. ¡°Well, hopefully something here will prove useful.¡± He nodded, before leading the way inside. The interior was just as old time-y as the exterior, the entire entrance being a grand room that was nothing like what he¡¯d see around the city streets. The main difference though was that while the exterior was a little run down compared to the rest of the attractions he¡¯d seen, the inside was even worse. Illuminated by a flame conjured in hand, litter and debris lined the floor as if the place hadn¡¯t been cleaned in ages, and the walls were lined in faded and shredded posters depicting various performances. Each of which was covered in clear claw marks, and surrounded by broken bulbs. Despite this though, he could still tell they were advertising what he could just barely make out as, ¡®The Court¡¯s Finest Rose!¡¯ or ¡®His Majesty¡¯s Favorite Rose!¡¯ and other such titles. ¡°Are we sure this place is safe?¡± Louis asked as they slowly creeped through the building. ¡°Probably not, but it is the only place with no blood on the map.¡± He reminded the teen, before pushing open another set of doors and finding himself in a large open auditorium. Many of the seats were fractured and broken, giving the place an even more haunting look as moonlight shined down through the open roof. One that had so much wear and tear that he couldn¡¯t tell whether or not it was intentionally so, or just the result of disrepair. ¡°Okay, how is this place even creepier than the cannibal clowns?¡± Louis whispered as they all stepped inside. ¡°No, telling.¡± He admitted, letting his flames fade as he caught sight of someone on stage. A reddish blonde person that he could just vaguely make out as a woman in an old suit stumbled across the stage with a bottle in her hand. The woman brought the bottle to her lips, only to pull it back and glare at the apparently empty bottle. With a growl the woman threw the bottle across the stage, where it shattered. The broken glass falling upon even more of its kind that just barely glittered in the moonlight. Uncaring of this mess the woman stumbled towards a box in the center of the stage before pulling out another bottle. As the woman held the bottle up in front of her, she glanced over her shoulder, blood red eyes flashing in the darkness. ¡°What dost thou want humans?¡± The Crimson Carnival: Chapter VIII, The Theater Rose The Crimson Carnival: Chapter VIII, The Theater Rose --- Gregory Fischer ¡ª He forced himself to hold back a grimace as the voice of the woman he assumed to be the Theater Rose echoed in the silence of the stadium. The fact that she was willing to at least hear them out already put her several steps above all of the cannibal clowns in town, so there was no need to show her his discomfort. (Still better to get straight to the point¡­) Feeling the crimson eyes watching him, he decided it was best to honestly answer, ¡°If you don¡¯t mind¡­ we¡¯re hoping to find a way out of this carnival that doesn¡¯t involve being eaten by a horde of carnivorous clown rejects.¡± The woman let out a scoff, ¡°Yes, many wish for such this night¡­ Unfortunately, the greatest mercy you shall receive in the court is one monster letting you go so another may devour you instead¡­ Such as now.¡± As the red eyed woman turned forward once more, he knew that was a dismissal but at the same time, (this might be our only opportunity to get out of this hell hole¡­) Which is why -even if it might¡¯ve been a bad idea- he pressed for more. ¡°All the mon¡­ clowns, out there are reveling in the slaughter, getting drunk, partying like there¡¯s no tomorrow. And yet, none of them are coming anywhere near here. There¡¯s got to be a reason for that.¡± The Theater Rose let out a sound that was somewhere between resignation and amusement before downing half of her bottle and turning back towards him with a grimace that could almost be mistaken as a wry grin. ¡°No need to censor thouself. As thou said the monsters prowling this festival are reveling in their gluttonous beasthood. So, joyous to be allowed to publicly feast and slaughter in a way the Court keeps locked behind closed doors, all while pretending to hide behind the mask of civility. It is little wonder their wretched dredges avoid my sight when I need not pretend to accept them.¡± ¡°I see¡­¡± Even if the flowery language made it a bit hard to, he at least understood that this ¡®Court¡¯ was in charge of this place and were the ones letting their people run wild. Something the woman in front of him did not approve of if he had the right of it. (Maybe I can use that¡­) ¡°If they avoid you, and you have no love for the nightmare going on out there, then maybe you can help us? You don¡¯t even have to do anything, simply let us stay in your lobby until we can leave with the dawn.¡± It was something of a gamble to lay out that plan, and went against his own preference for things, (but if this place really will be safe for the kids¡­) The Theater Rose¡¯s face twisted. ¡°And why would I allow thou to remain here? When doing so would invite every wretch of the court into my sanctuary to hunt you? And be sure, they shall find you before the night ends.¡± The red-eyed monster reached for a weapon sheathed at her hip. ¡°I¡¯d rather kill the lot of you and simply be done with it.¡± ¡°But that would make you like the monsters outside!¡± Melanie suddenly shouted, drawing the attention of everyone in the auditorium. ¡°You dare?¡± The monster snarled, bits of red beginning to flake off of its form. ¡°She¡¯s right.¡± He interrupted, with a glare at the teen even as he took the heat off of her before taking a step forward and pulling out his map. ¡°But more importantly wouldn¡¯t blood appearing near you set off some kind of alarm in the other monsters? Tell them that something is going on, draw at least some of them here?¡± The red-eyed monster growled, before looking away as she caught sight of something on the map. ¡°I¡¯ve always hated that game of theirs¡­¡± ¡°Look, we don¡¯t like these clowns anymore than you do, but there must be a reason you¡¯re avoiding all of them.¡± He continued, unwilling to risk taking his eyes off the monster to see what had killed her fight. ¡°Maybe, maybe there¡¯s a way we can help each other? I may not look it but I¡¯ve got a decent amount of firepower.¡± To underline this point he ignited a flame in his hand, one admittedly half the size he¡¯d normally show off, but (hopefully it¡¯s enough to catch her attention.) The woman stared at the flame for a moment before shaking her head. ¡°It matters not. If I sent you to kill those I wish dead, they¡¯d merely see it as me gifting them a blood bag. Your magic merely makes you a more tempting meal. Better to hope they simply leave me be in my theater than to invite them in once more.¡± He knew that look in the Theater Rose¡¯s eyes, beneath the rage and half-drunken haze, a look that he¡¯d seen in his own whenever he looked in the mirror. A look that had given up and was simply waiting for the end¡­ (Damn it¡­) He hated seeing that look on anyone, even a monster that wouldn¡¯t hesitate to rip his throat out with its teeth. (No. There¡¯s no crying until the job is done.) That was drilled into everyone¡¯s head during the war, and he had to remember it now. (In fact¡­) If he remembered his actual job and what that entailed¡­ ¡°You clearly don¡¯t get along with the rest of this¡­ court, don¡¯t like what they¡¯re doing here. There¡¯s got to be a Story there, something that¡¯ll help us get out of here, be it by helping you or something else.¡± The woman stared at him with her blood red eyes, as if trying to figure out what he was planning. Not that she¡¯d be able to figure out that he was trying to collect her Story to get Briar to hopefully evac him and the kids out of the warzone. A plan that hinged both on the woman being drunk enough to open up to a complete stranger, and his ability to record her Story. (Something I¡¯m still not entirely sure how to do¡­) Eventually the red woman let out a sigh before finishing off her current bottle and casually breaking it like her last. ¡°Clearly, thou know not who you are dealing with.¡±Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°Then tell us¡­ Please.¡± He tried, continuing down the stairs. The Theater Rose turned back to her case of boxes, as she began to inspect them. ¡°Once upon a time the Crimson Carnival was meant as a refuge for those of the Court who did not enjoy the machinations and politics that filled that pit of snakes¡­¡± The woman spat, before her tone once more filled with resignation. ¡°But like all things the Court touches, the idea was corrupted bit by bit as they sent those they deemed worthless to the Carnival instead of those wishing for peace¡­¡± The red-eyed woman stood, inspecting the bottle just like she had the previous. ¡°These wretches saw fit to hunt our patrons. To flood our streets in blood and death. A mad revelry that was only encouraged by the visiting Nobles of the Court that had learned of the games. The wretches escalated, desperate for the approval of their betters all while unaware of the aristocracy mocking them for giving in like the dogs that they are.¡± Opening the bottle the Theater Rose took a swig of it before continuing her tale. ¡°Bit by bit all of those who saw the Carnival as an asylum from the Court, were killed off or infected by the hysteria of their brethren. Until the day came that it had become little more than another amusement for the snakes that turned mice into rats that devoured all in their path.¡± The red-eyed woman sat in a chair on the stage while looking regretfully at the bottle in her hands as she seemed to lose something in her tone. ¡°Now here we are trapped by the Court that refuses to give the leash on our throats any slack.¡± (Mood¡­) He thought bitterly, sitting down as he remembered how things had slowly soured before he finally left the military. The Theater Rose looked at him, before letting her gaze drift towards the kids still by the entrance to the auditorium. ¡°The dawn isn¡¯t enough to break free of the Court¡¯s power. At least not on its own.¡± He blinked. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Daylight diminishes but does not end the influence of the Court. Meaning that even if you waited until dawn, it would not be enough to escape the Carnival by itself.¡± The woman explained with a grimace. The Theater Rose stumbled ever so slightly as she stood, even if her words lacked any form of slurring expected of someone who¡¯d killed at least three bottles. ¡°The Carnival is now a trap. Once you step foot within you are under its influence and incapable of leaving its borders. The exception being the true entrance.¡± ¡°And where is this true entrance?¡± He wondered, standing back up himself. The woman held her hand out for his map, before pointing at the start of a large trail of blood that spiraled through the park, past the crown and every other emblem including the rose as her finger circled closer and closer to- ¡°The Ferris Wheel?¡± He huffed. ¡°Knew there was something off about that thing.¡± ¡°Yes, he¡­ always finishes his tours of the festival there to watch the sunrise over the horizon before taking his leave.¡± The Theater Rose told him. ¡°To escape you need to ride it until its peak with a Blood Key on your person.¡± ¡°A Blood Key?¡± He repeated. The woman reached inside of her tailcoat before pulling out a circular emblem with a beautiful rose carved into it. ¡°You can use this, I¡¯ve little need for it given how I only return to the Court under duress.¡± ¡°And you can¡¯t use it to go anywhere else?¡± He frowned, not liking the way she said ¡®under duress¡¯. ¡°If I were to escape, they¡¯d find me wherever I may roam.¡± The Theater Rose confessed. ¡°Even the other side of the world?¡± He wondered, because he¡¯d never heard of the Court and he was in the know for most if not all of the¡­ shadier groups in his city. (The Library doesn¡¯t count since it¡¯s clearly not native to the city.) The woman gave him a curious look before reluctantly nodding. ¡°Aye, the king would pursue his rose to the ends of the world¡­¡± Part of him wanted to try talking her into coming, but the sheer resignation in her voice told him that she wouldn¡¯t believe him. And (I¡¯ve been there¡­) It wasn¡¯t the kind of thing that could be broken in a single conversation, the parts of it he¡¯d managed to shrug off himself was only thanks to Briar¡¯s book. (Maybe¡­ Maybe I can figure something out once the kids are safe¡­) Knowing that that fight would have to be a different day, he gave the Theater Rose a wry grin as he reached for the emblem. ¡°Well, I guess Ferris is getting his wish¡­¡± Just as he was about to take the emblem the woman pulled it out of his reach. ¡°...¡± Every hair on his body began to stand on edge, as if he was suddenly staring down a dangerous predator. His eyes darted to the woman¡¯s and he found two blood red eyes not looking at him but at the kids further back. He pulled out a Smoke from his carton. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± ¡°The Child cannot go with you.¡± The monster told him, her eyes meeting his and telling him she would not budge on this. ¡°Why not?¡± He asked, giving her a chance to change her mind given her courtesy thus far. ¡°That Child belongs to the Carnival. A tithe paid, regardless of what either of us wants. If thou take it with you, we all shall regret it.¡± The woman warned him, and he could tell by the fact that she hadn¡¯t attacked him yet that she was giving him her own courtesy right now. ¡°A tithe paid¡­¡± He really did not like the sound of that, he even said as much as he lit his cigarette. The Theater Rose shook her head. ¡°It matters not. All of the Children must stay within the Carnival lest we invite disaster.¡± He got the distinct feeling that when she said ¡®Children¡¯ she wasn¡¯t talking about Louis or Melanie. ¡°I really wish you hadn¡¯t said that, because-¡± Before the Theater Rose could react, his flame coated fist shot forward, straight for the monster¡¯s head. With an inhuman speed the Theater Rose deflected his blow, sending cinders flying around them as she leapt backwards with a dagger in hand. ¡°I¡¯ve got a real soft spot for children.¡± He sighed. The red-eyed woman watched him before letting out a sigh of her own. ¡°Noble. Foolish, but noble.¡± ¡°Sorry, that¡¯s just the kind of guy I am.¡± He shrugged before entering a fighting stance with his fists raised as cinder filled smoke began to swirl around him. ¡°And pray tell, what is the name of this foolish and noble ¡®guy¡¯?¡± The Theater Rose asked as she entered a stance of her own, the blade of the crimson dagger slowly extending. ¡°Gregory Fischer.¡± He answered, breathing in a lung full of Smoke. ¡°You?¡± ¡°Maeve Roisin.¡± The woman -Maeve- offered showing off her fangs as crimson began to flake off of her. ¡°There¡¯s really no convincing you to give up the Child?¡± ¡°Nope.¡± He admitted, trying not to grimace as he noticed something shifting around the Theater Rose. ¡°A shame.¡± Maeve nodded in understanding. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure the other two escape at the very least.¡± ¡°And I¡¯ll make sure all of us do.¡± He nodded back. They both stared each other down -one surrounded by cinder and ash, the other crimson and blood- before rushing forward to meet in a flurry of flame and blood. The Crimson Carnival: Chapter IX, A Rose鈥檚 Thorns The Crimson Carnival: Chapter IX, A Rose¡¯s Thorns --- Gregory Fischer --- The Theater Rose opened with a stab of her blade, a swirl of crimson around the point, a piercing strike that he deflected off his metal hand before backhanding with a fist full of flame. One that was easily evaded when Maeve leaned back, in a spin that quickly turned into a kick that he leapt back with minimizing the damage even as the glass on the ground tore up the sole of his boots. Not letting this get him down he rushed forward once more, getting close enough that Maeve¡¯s elongated blade -now looking more like a rapier than a dagger- wouldn¡¯t be able to stab him. A quick opening strike to her chest forced the red eyed woman back but a quick swing of her blade once more a dagger did the same to him before he could follow up. His eyes narrowed as he puffed at his smoke and watched the crimson in the air re-coalesce into a rapier, a process that was far faster than their initial build up. (Alright, so she can change the blade length at will. Going to assume she can make it longer than that as well, meaning close or far I¡¯ve got no range advantage.) As if to demonstrate this Maeve shot forward far faster than he could manage, her sword raised to run him through. Which is why she ended up rushing straight into the smoke screen he unleashed in a massive exhale, the smoke of his ¡®special cigarette¡¯ expanding at something resembling his normal speed with power. Just to check he tried twisting the smoke in a way that he normally would with a single victim stuck coughing in a cloud of his smoke, only to find his control over it quickly fading. (Damn it, I¡¯m going to need another Chapter or whatever to pull this off aren¡¯t I?) ¡°Cur!¡± Maeve coughed, as she blindly swung her blade, the crimson of the blade clearly trying to sweep away the lingering smoke. Unfortunately for her, this particular spell was one that he¡¯d long since trained to a point of enduring beyond anything short of B grade wind spell. Training that also allowed him to easily and silently circle around his opponent, both his vision and his lungs more than used to moving through the dense smoke of war that blinded Maeve. Not bothering with anything fancy, he quickly built up a surge of fire in his metal hand before unleashing the built up heat into the Theater Rose¡¯s back. Generating a burst of flame and cinder just large enough to send her flying but not enough to stun her as she quickly reoriented herself mid-air to keep him in her line of sight. Whatsmore she didn¡¯t even bother to land before once more launching herself at him in a surge of crimson rather than cinder, the speed of which left him unable to dodge. If not for a little book at least. More on reflex than anything else he willed himself to move while drawing on the magic of his Smoke, and like usual he moved reappearing to the side as Maeve crashed into the ground her rapier easily piercing the ground like it would his hide. The fluttering of pages in the air reminded him that just like before whatever he¡¯d just done wasn¡¯t part of his usual Smoke Dash, but rather the Book¡¯s Swift Dodge. (Fuck it. Whatever works.) As Maeve ripped her blade free of the ground he used his Swift Dodge to quickly re-enter striking distance before his opponent could react, leaving her open as he delivered a Heat Fist to her face. Cinders trailing his fist as the metal began to glow with the Heat it was containing. With wide eyes Maeve bent backwards out of the way of his fist, before quickly flipping backwards in a single handed spring that he absolutely could not pull off. With this distance the Theater Rose swung this hand towards him, sending a crimson point hurling towards him. He willed himself to move in another dash to avoid the thorns, only to stutter in place as pages swirled around him and did little else. (What?) The thorns impacted his shoulder with enough force to make him stumble back in a spin as pages exploded out of his right shoulder. His hand shot towards the thorn impaling his shoulder ready to rip it out and cauterize the flesh only to find nothing there, his flesh unharmed even as his hand came back red. (What¡¯s happening?) ¡°A curious magic¡­¡± Maeve admitted, watching him with narrowed eyes as the blood on his hand turned into a crimson sheet of paper before falling to the ground. ¡°Yeah, it is¡­¡± He agreed, his eyes drifting towards his Book as he remembered Briar explaining something about ¡®The Library¡¯s Protection¡¯. Even if at the time (and now) he hadn¡¯t quite been able to understand everything she¡¯d explained about converting byproduct existential waste pages from experience along the splash tangents of Necro to maintain the structural integrity of one¡¯s metaphysical projection upon the physical axes via a Madness anchor to lower font size and line spacing. (Whatever the fuck that means¡­) Still he was beginning to understand that that meant something along the lines of (a paper shield¡­ I can work with this.) He grinned as he rolled his shoulder, and drew another cigarette. ¡°Weren¡¯t we in the middle of something?¡± He asked Maeve as he lit his smoke, aware that while they were fighting neither of them was really fighting to kill the other so much as to stop the other. ¡°Yes. We were.¡± Maeve nodded, readying her own blade with a smirk. ¡°And it seems like I don¡¯t have to feel guilty for letting loose a bit.¡± (Ah, shit.) Once more The Theater Rose launched forth in a trail of crimson. Crimson that swirled with twice as much power as her previous strikes.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Instinctively he wanted to dodge, but after his last attempt failed he wasn¡¯t quite willing to trust the Book¡¯s magic. So instead he trusted his own steel, as he blocked Maeve¡¯s blade with his arm deflecting the strike to the side even as he felt the lashing crimson cut into him before extracting more crimson pages. The Theater Rose¡¯s blade shattered, returning to its original dagger length as she proceeded to lash out in a flurry of swipes that he blocked and deflected off of his metal arm, the smoke in his lungs empowering his body enough to endure the onslaught with ease. At least until he saw an opening and shoulder checked Meave, before wrapping his lightly glowing metal arm around her more fleshy one and grabbing her hand with the heated metal to force her to drop her blade. ¡°You¡¯re going to have to hurt me a lot worse than that to make me give up.¡± Maeve grinned with a maw full of fangs, before opening it wider than any human could manage and biting down into his neck. Crimson pages erupted from his neck, keeping him from feeling much of what he was pretty sure would for most be a fatal bite. But even then their grapple had gone from him holding her in place to her wrapping her legs around his back and digging her teeth in deeper. A sensation that he was feeling more and more of as crimson pages continued to spray out. Glass crunched under his foot. Thinking quickly, he grabbed onto Maeve¡¯s legs, locking her place as he dropped onto his back, crushing her between his weight and the broken glass beneath them. A cry tore out of the Theater Rose as her own back was cut to pieces, forcing her to loosen her grip just enough that he instinctively dashed away in a swirl of paper that confused him just as much as it relieved him. (Why did it work this time and not before?) Shaking his head of thoughts that wouldn¡¯t help him, he turned back to Maeve as she stood up and rolled her shoulders. Whatever she was clearly having a healing factor of some kind. ¡°Your magic truly is curious¡­ It protects you from physical damage and yet these pages still taste and function as if made of blood.¡± The red eyed woman observed, as she picked up a crimson page floating in the air before having it dissolve into a swirl of red around her hand. (Blood?) He frowned, his eyes drifting to where more crimson pages were slowly falling from him. (Does that mean I¡¯m bleeding? Or maybe my shield is since I¡¯m not feeling any blood loss?) Almost instinctively he opened the Book in his hand, (a book that I¡¯m pretty sure that I left on those stairs before the fight began¡­) He briefly glanced at the stairs, before deciding the Book must¡¯ve had a recall charm of some kind built into it. (Honestly, not its most impressive feature.) The eldritch script on the page creeped and crawled, sending a slight ache behind his eyes as he found himself quickly reading his ¡®Current Story¡¯ only to find a new line in the mix of it all entitled ¡®Contained Pages¡¯ with a number next to it that seemed to slowly be dropping. (I guess that¡¯s my shield then.) ¡°You know if I was any other monster in this accursed carnival, I wouldn¡¯t hesitate to attack you right now.¡± Maeve warned him. ¡°You really should not be reading your¡­ grimoire? Outside of cover.¡± He couldn¡¯t help but grimace at that as he turned back to his opponent after making such an amateur mistake. ¡°Yeah, I kn-whoa¡­¡± Maeve¡¯s eyes narrowed at him as his smoke fell out of his mouth. ¡°What is it?¡± He swallowed the ache from reading the Book rapidly building up behind his eyes as he stared at The Theater Rose. Or rather at the Eldritch Script that danced through the air around her, whispering so many sweet secrets as they drifted about. (¡°Name: Maeve Roisin, Species: Human (Deviation), Genre: Fantasy, Classification: Scrapper/Blaster/Vampire, Derivative Addendum: None.¡±) He read from the words shifting through the air around The Theater Rose, unaware that his nose was beginning to bleed he continued to read. (¡°Resistant to Slash, Blunt, and Mind, Weak to Light and Fatally so to Spirit¡­¡±) Something grabbed onto him and he suddenly found himself dazedly flying before crashing into the ground, book pages cushioning his fall but doing absolutely nothing to stop the ache stabbing through his head. ¡°Fuck¡­ What¡­ What just happened?¡± He grimaced, feeling something warm and damp on his face. Wiping at it he found his hand coming back covered in blood that did not turn into paper. ¡°Have you come back to your senses?¡± Maeve asked him cautiously. ¡°Y-yeah.¡± He nodded, wincing as the movement hurt his head. ¡°What¡­ what happened exactly?¡± ¡°You became mesmerized by something. When you began to bleed without your magic I felt the honorable thing to do was to force you out of it. Physical disorientation and pain being the best methods in my experience.¡± Maeve explained, watching him carefully as she approached. ¡°That¡­ that makes sense.¡± He admitted as he forced himself to stand even as the world spun around him a bit. ¡°I¡­ I think I know what triggered it¡­¡± He glanced at the Book in his hands before letting it fall to the ground. ¡°We¡­ we can keep fighting¡­¡± ¡°I don¡¯t believe that is wise¡­¡± Maeve confessed, with a touch of concern. He pulled out a smoke to calm his shakes, before lighting it and consuming the cigarette in a single inhalation. (In with the good smoke¡­) He thought, holding the Smoke in his lungs as he felt the chems flooding his system, filling him with power as it brought him back to the minimum -both physically and mentally- to keep him in the fight, before exhaling the spent byproducts. (Out with the bad smoke¡­) He cracked his neck to either side, before nodding and reentering his fighting stance. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m good to go.¡± Before he could react Maeve reached out and shoved him back, and with far more effort than it should¡¯ve taken him he stayed standing even as he was sent skidding back. ¡°See?¡± He told the Theater Rose with a wry grin as he caught himself on a nearby support pillar before he could lose his balance. (Now I¡¯m feeling the blood loss¡­) There was a faint creaking as he put his weight on the wooden pillar, before said pillar made a cracking sound. He blinked, looking to his side where the crack in the pillar was slowly growing as he backed away from it. ¡°Uh, I think we should get off the stage¡­¡± The pillar snapped like a gunshot and he reflexively dashed away, stumbling as he reappeared on the ground with his feet skidding slightly on the broken glass. Maeve landed next to him with far more grace, before both of them turned and watched as the Theater Rose¡¯s stage proceeded to collapse in front of them. The decrepitness of the rest of the theater having long since infected the breaking wood work. Beside him Maeve took in a deep breath before letting it out and slowly turning towards him. ¡°Do you still want to fight?¡± He opened his mouth before a wave of sound and music rippled over them, the sky lighting up as if it were day. They both snapped their attention to the sky above where a pink beam of light was shooting into the air with an upbeat tune. One that just barely covered the sound of something cracking as smaller lights swirled around the pillar, rising towards the sky and slowly beating away at said something. At least until that something finally gave and the entire sky shattered in an explosion of colors, reminiscent of the fireworks that had kicked this nightmare of a night off. And as he watched this explosion of color and music he couldn¡¯t help but admit that, ¡°I¡¯m not topping whatever the fuck that is¡­¡± The Crimson Carnival: Chapter X, Carnival Crisis The Crimson Carnival: Chapter X, Carnival Crisis --- Gregory Fischer --- For a moment they all just stood there in awe, staring at the pillar of light while listening to the song that accompanied it. A song of hope, rebellion, and life, all things he could understand from the sheer emotion in the magic carrying the tune. And while musical magic wasn¡¯t the rarest thing in the world it was something he was content to simply bask in¡­ At least until he realized why the sky would shatter like that, and why that was a very, very bad thing. ¡°Roisin¡­¡± He swallowed, eyes on the cracks in the sky, his heart slowly pounding in his chest as he saw the rainbow of colors somehow darker than black wherever it crumbled. ¡°Yes, Fischer¡­?¡± The Theater Rose answered, something in her stance clearly unwinding in face of the pillar of light. ¡°The Crimson Carnival is its own pocket dimension, right?¡± Combined with the cracking sky, it would explain all the spatial anomalies that had been bugging him as well as Maeve¡¯s explanation on the Carnival being a trap. ¡°It is its own domain propagated by magic.¡± Maeve explained with a confused look towards this aside. ¡°So, pocket dimension.¡± He nodded, swallowing once more as he pointed at the cracks in the sky and the space that hurt his brain to look at. ¡°Where exactly is this dimension anchored?¡± ¡°Anchored?¡± Maeve frowned. ¡°If the dimension pops, where does the carnival end up?¡± He tried to elaborate, without letting his panic get the best of him. ¡°The¡­ Court¡¯s Lands?¡± The Theater Rose answered so unsurely that it did the opposite of reassuring him. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Because if a pocket dimension isn¡¯t anchored, it pops into the void between.¡± Something he was pretty sure he was seeing through those cracks. ¡°The void between¡­¡± Maeve repeated before her eyes snapped to the sky as they went wide. ¡°Oh no¡­¡± ¡°Fuck, fuck, fuck!¡± He cursed, pawing at his eyes before turning towards the kids and yelling, ¡°Okay, we need to leave the carnival now!¡± ¡°W-what why?¡± Melanie jumped, as both he and Maeve practically ran up the theater steps towards the kids and Mr. Peabody on guard in front of them. ¡°Because if we don¡¯t get out of here before that pillar of light stops. That crack in the sky is going to become a black hole.¡± That wasn¡¯t one hundred percent accurate, but it was close enough to explain to a couple of kids from a backwater town that didn¡¯t know anything about magic. ¡°Oh, fuck¡­¡± Louis groaned, wide eyes on the cracks in the sky telling him that their town at least knew what a black hole was. ¡°A-are you sure?¡± Melanie frowned, no small amount of concern as she held Ferris close to her chest. ¡°I¡¯ve dealt with a ton of small-scale dimensional magic back in the war.¡± He started to explain, unable to help but nervously glance at the cracks in the sky. ¡°Pop a small expansion field like what the Carnival is under and everything implodes into the initial space crushing all of it under a proportional amount of pressure. People threw them around the battlefield all the time and they were a lethal pain for everyone involved, but could be survived if you knew what to do.¡± He pointed at the pillar of light. ¡°You can prevent an immediate implosion by countering the pressure leak with a steady flow of magic to keep the bubble from popping like that pillar. If you bleed it at just the right pace you can simply deflate the bubble and step out of it without killing everyone inside of it. If you¡¯re anchored somewhere stable enough to step out into, which given how we¡¯re apparently anchored into a sub-dimensional space¡­¡± ¡°Would turn the exit into a black hole¡­¡± Louis finished, seeing where he was going. ¡°Essentially.¡± He nodded as he moved past the teens and shoved the doors open. ¡°Which is why we need to get the fuck out of here.¡± ¡°With the monster?¡± Louis frowned with a nervous glance towards Maeve. ¡°The one you were just fighting.¡± He held back a groan, instead gritting his teeth as he realized, (Oh, we¡¯re doing this¡­) The Theater Rose rolled her crimson eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, huma-¡± Maeve sighed, reeling in her reflexive response. ¡°Child. I¡¯ve no interest in harming any of you. Not when we¡¯ve all the same goal of escaping this disaster.¡± Fischer nodded at the perfectly reasonable response. (She gets it, we don¡¯t have time for this shit.) ¡°What about Ferris?¡± Melanie frowned. ¡°I may not have heard everything you talked about, but the whole reason you fought Fischer was to keep Ferris from escaping!¡± He tapped his foot impatiently as he kept eyeing the shattering sky no matter how much it hurt his head to do so. (Come on wartime rules clearly say there are no enemies during a dimensional collapse!) Rolling her eyes once more, Maeve turned towards the lost child and looked him in the eye. ¡°Who am I?¡± Ferris blinked slowly before giving the Theater Rose a dazed smile. ¡°Big sis!¡± ¡°What?¡± Melanie asked, voicing his own question. ¡°The Lost Children have three women that they amalgamate into their ¡®big sister¡¯. They are incapable of telling the three of us apart.¡± Maeve explained, petting Ferris¡¯s head. ¡°Whether this one simply broke away from the pack or was left to wander is not something I know, but trust me when I say I was only protecting you and everyone else.¡± ¡°What?¡± Melanie repeated not quite understanding.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. He narrowed his eyes at the Theater Rose and the Lost Child because he did understand. (Even if I don¡¯t like what I¡¯m understanding¡­) Maeve gave him a grimace, clearly seeing this. ¡°I¡¯ve no issue answering your questions, but preferably while we¡¯re on the ferris wheel making our exit.¡± (Priorities.) He told himself, before reminding everyone that, ¡°I¡¯m the one who¡¯s been holding the door open.¡± ¡°So you have.¡± Maeve nodded as she stepped past, quickly followed by Mr. Peabody. The kids on the other hand had even more questions apparently, as Louis whispered, ¡°Is this a good idea?¡± ¡°She¡¯s got the key to the portal, and in case you didn¡¯t notice she kind of kicked my ass five minutes ago.¡± Admittedly he¡¯d like a rematch when his magic wasn¡¯t fucked by a book, but he wasn¡¯t prideful enough to deny that he did in fact get his ass kicked. ¡°If we want out of here then you two need to play nice.¡± ¡°And what she said about Ferris?¡± Melanie pressed, not setting the Lost Child down. ¡°She already said she¡¯d explain.¡± He reminded the pair, before grimacing when he looked up and saw more of that rainbow black in the sky. ¡°Something we won¡¯t have time for if you two don¡¯t get moving.¡± ¡°Right¡­¡± The teenagers agreed, clearly not happy about it though. ¡°We¡¯re going to have to be careful.¡± Maeve warned as they rejoined her in the theater lobby. ¡°While I doubt many of those corrupted by the court will stop us, the fact remains that the smarter of the lot will try to flee upon the wheel themselves. The last thing we need is to run into the King of the Court, lest dying to the void be a mercy.¡± He went ahead and pulled out the map, because while he trusted Maeve to know the fastest way to the wheel, knowing where the crown was would only help them. ¡°The Flame is gone and the Crown seems to be heading towards the Haunted House rather than the wheel.¡± He noted. ¡°Of course her madness would cause this¡­¡± Maeve scoffed before shaking her head. ¡°No, that¡¯s not right. Barbra could not make anything as light-hearted as that song. Maybe before the corruption set in, before the Carnival¡¯s fall but not the monster she¡¯s become.¡± ¡°Barbra?¡± He prodded as they made their way out onto the streets. ¡°Once upon a time she was a mage who came to the Court in naivety, now she¡¯s a monster who enjoys burning her victims alive to fuel her dark magicks. Truthfully, your flames were far gentler than the nightmares I have seen her wrought upon this world.¡± The Theater Rose assured him. Which he was kind of offended by in all honesty. (Not the time.) ¡°This way will be cutting closer to the main tent than I like but it is the fastest way to the wheel from here.¡± Maeve told them as she started jogging towards the right of the theater. A pace he knew was more to allow the kids to keep up than not. ¡°Right, well, the jester is moving towards the ferris wheel but it looks like the hat is going to meet up with the crown. Any idea what that means?¡± He asked, throwing out the last things of note he could see on the map. ¡°It means the sellout whore and the self-righteous bastard hope to salvage the Carnival while their guest leaves them to rot.¡± The Theater Rose growled, her voice regaining its dark power with her barely suppressed rage. Maeve took a deep breath before exhaling, visibly forcing herself to calm down in this crisis. ¡°Is¡­ is that something they can do? Save this place I mean?¡± Louis asked, before noticing the way everyone was glancing at him. ¡°Not that I want them to! It¡¯s just¡­ aren¡¯t we at less of a risk of dying if they do?¡± ¡°Stitching a popped dimensional space is¡­ theoretically possible?¡± He guessed, his own theory being kind of shit on the topic outside of how not to implode himself with a spatial landmine. ¡°But for a space this big it would require a lot of power, and a genius at that school.¡± ¡°Barbra had a power source in her basement, something she referred to as an ¡®infernal engine¡¯?¡± Maeve offered with a frown that turned into a smirk. ¡°Though she always complained about being unable to stabilize it.¡± ¡°No idea what that is.¡± He admitted, before thinking about it. ¡°But if it¡¯s got infernal in the name and someone flipped it to be as positive as the music and light implies then it could cause a reaction similar to the difference between nuclear fission and fusion.¡± ¡°I have no idea what either of those are.¡± Maeve confessed. ¡°How worried should we be?¡± ¡°It¡¯d be really impressive and probably morally good, if it wasn¡¯t happening in a pocket dimension that was probably powered by the spell engine they broke to pull it off.¡± Honestly, if the crazy fucker survived he¡¯d have drinks for life in any Practitioner¡¯s bar if he pulled off what Greg thought he did. As they rounded a corner towards the ferris wheel, they found what could almost be mistaken for a festival parade of carnival clowns standing outside of a massive crimson tent. At least if not for the fact that they were all covered in blood, and mutilated corpses littered the ground around them. Several of the clowns began to turn towards them, their arrival less than subtle in their rush to escape. ¡°Would you look at this boys? It really is a party if even the theater rose is bringing out treats!¡± One of the clowns laughed, drawing the attention of even more of them their way bloody grins on one and all. ¡°Fuck!¡± He cursed, clenching his fists as he slowly shifted into a stance. (Guess these assholes never learned wartime rules either¡­) ¡°Play along.¡± Maeve hissed at their little group before turning back to the clowns. ¡°Back you curs. These humans are an offering for our lord, not a petty party favor for your gluttonous feast!¡± ¡°Ah, come on! Don¡¯t be like that!¡± The clown whined. ¡°The king has already feasted on half of the people we drew in this time!¡± ¡°And unfortunately for you, I¡¯ve deemed them worthy of trying for our lord¡¯s favor!¡± The theater rose growled back, crimson beginning to twist around her like the vines of a rose. ¡°If you do not step aside then I¡¯ll put you down like the blood drunk beasts you all are!¡± ¡°You won¡¯t be doing that! Everyone knows you¡¯re on thin ice after the last time you refused the king¡¯s call to the court!¡± Another clown scoffed before turning to the rest of his cannibalistic brethren. ¡°Why do you think she always holds up in her theater? Unlike the other nobles if she so much as touches us-¡± The clown¡¯s speech was cut off as a crimson thorn pierced it through the skull. ¡°Does anyone else doubt my ability or desire to kill you lot?¡± Maeve taunted. ¡°Or need I remind you all, that the reason I do not associate with any of you is because I hAtE EvERy lAsT OnE oF yoU!¡± He was forced to take a step back at the sheer amount of bloodlust pouring off of The Theater Rose, as if she was one wrong word from slaughtering each and every last person she could see in a feral frenzy that would not end until she did. (Shit, she was taking it easy on me.) More than used to the feeling that he might die sometimes even welcoming it he glanced towards the kids noticing how both Louis and Melanie were pale and frozen in place, all of Mr. Peabody¡¯s fur was standing on end, and the only one not affected was Ferris curiously watching all of this. The stare down between the two groups dragged on, more and more of the clowns turning towards them, and a few¡­ ¡°They¡¯re circling us.¡± He whispered. ¡°I¡¯m aware¡­¡± Maeve growled. ¡°We need to either strike or cut around, now.¡± He told her. ¡°I¡¯m aware¡­¡± ¡°Yeah, well your little show has frozen the kids.¡± He added, beginning to circulate his magic once more. Somewhat surprised at how easily it was flowing again after how badly Maeve had kicked his ass earlier. (Guess quick recovery is another Library perk.) ¡°...¡± Mave was quite for a moment before sighing, sounding every bit as tired as he felt. ¡°I¡¯m aware¡­¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s your show Roisin.¡± He admitted as he pulled out a smoke and lit it. ¡°How you want to handle this?¡± The Crimson Carnival: Chapter XI, The Lost Children And Found Courage The Crimson Carnival: Chapter XI, The Lost Children And Found Courage --- Gregory Fischer --- He expected an order of either fight or flight, what he did not expect however was for Maeve to keep glancing between the crowd of carnivorous cannibal clowns and Ferris as if weighing a decision. Part of him didn¡¯t trust her there, if only because of how hard the Theater Rose had fought to keep the kid in this nightmare, but another part of him was aware of the things that she¡¯d implied about the Lost Child. After coming to some conclusion of her own, Maeve eventually called, ¡°Ferris?¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± The Lost Child answered dazedly as if unconcerned with all of the monsters looking at them. (Monsters he probably deals with on the daily¡­) Despite his attention being spread kind of thin at the moment, he was still able to make out one of the clowns asking, ¡°Wait¡­ is that a?¡± while taking a step back. Maeve looked the leader of the clowns in the eye and said, ¡°Would you mind calling the other Children here?¡± ¡°Big Sis?¡± Ferris asked from next to Louis. (Wait.) His eyes darted to a frightened Melanie with Ferris in her arms, and to an equally frightened Louis with Ferris standing half behind him. (What?) ¡°Mister?¡± A voice asked from next to him, where a third Ferris was holding onto his pants leg. ¡°Can we play?¡± ¡°Doggy!¡± A familiar voice cheered, from where a fourth and fifth Ferris were now petting a confused looking Mr. Peabody. All around him came various cries of the similar, as more and more Ferrises continued to appear some crawling out from behind store counters, some stumbling out from alley ways, some bouncing off the tent roofs, and others appearing in the blink of an eye until they were surrounded by a veritable army of Ferrises. More than one of the clowns stumbled back, closing ranks as their group was slowly surrounded as even more Ferrises continued to flood the street. ¡°Child!¡± Maeve called once more as she raised her hand, causing hundreds of heads to turn her way as she drew the attention of all the Lost Children. Like a guillotine the Theater Rose¡¯s arm fell, her hand pointing at the horde of clowns as she declared, ¡°This lot wishes to play.¡± ¡°Play?/Play!/Play¡­¡± The Ferrises¡¯ reactions all varied as they slowly turned towards the monstrous clowns that were now looking more than a little intimidated. ¡°That¡¯s-No!¡± One of the clowns yelled. ¡°We do not want to-¡± ¡°Play¡­¡± The horde of Ferrises declared as one as they stepped forward in unison. ¡°No, we do not want to-¡± ¡°Play¡­¡± The horde interrupted once more as they took another step forward. ¡°Be ready to run.¡± Maeve told him as the air began to fill with something he recognized, even if he couldn¡¯t remember what it was beyond the fact it terrified him in a ¡®Kill it with fire!¡¯ kind of way. ¡°Don¡¯t you brats listen!¡± The leader of the clowns roared. ¡°We do not want to-¡± A Ferris latched onto the clown¡¯s leg, cutting him off. Ever so slowly the clown looked down to meet the Lost Child¡¯s gaze, where the smiling child happily drawled told him, ¡°Play~¡± As one the horde of Ferrises descended upon the carnivorous clowns who were helpless as they were forced to ¡®play¡¯ with the Lost Children. Usually after being dragged to the ground by a dozen of the Ferrises clinging to their every limb. ¡°Now!¡± Maeve yelled, dashing off to the side. ¡°And keep a grip on your Lost Child!¡± He glanced back where Melanie was struggling to hold a squirming Ferris in her arms, while pouting about how he, ¡°Want to play!¡± With a grimace, rushed over, and- ¡°Give him to me!¡± -took the squirming Ferris into his arms, while wishing he still had access to his sleep smoke. (If Roisin changed her mind about leaving him behind then we¡¯ve got to take him with us whether he likes it or not.) ¡°I¡¯ve got him. Go!¡± He told Melanie, with a nod towards Maeve even as the kid put up a far greater fight than he¡¯d expect from one so small. ¡°Come on kid¡­ We¡¯ve got to go¡­¡± ¡°No, wanna play!¡± Ferris screamed, something shifting as for just a moment he looked more like a demon child than the innocent kid that had been following him all night. ¡°Ferris we need to go!¡± Melanie cried, sticking around in spite of his orders to run. ¡°Come on¡­ Don¡¯t you want to ride the ferris wheel?!¡± The squirming Lost Child froze, before slowly turning towards Melanie. ¡°Ferris wheel?¡± Melanie nodded. ¡°That¡¯s right. We¡¯re going to the ferris wheel, remember?¡± ¡°Ferris wheel¡­¡± Ferris repeated once more, his eyes drifting to the massive structure as he quit squirming. ¡°Y-yeah¡­ we¡¯re going to the ferris wheel.¡± He confirmed, just a touch nervously as he glanced at an equally nervous Melanie. ¡°Hurry you two!¡± Roisin called from one of the alley entry ways. (Right, I need answers about this.) He decided, shaking his head when Melanie offered to take Ferris back before they both ran to catch up with everyone else. ¡°What was that?¡± He hissed, once he was back near the front of the pack with Maeve.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Melanie glanced back at the children keeping up with their jog. ¡°That was why the Lost Child needed to stay in the Crimson Carnival. As much as I hate it here, letting one of them out would let all of them out.¡± ¡°And yet you told us to make sure we brought Ferris?¡± He frowned. Roisin actually looked offended at the question, letting out a growl as she brought their group to a halt. ¡°Just because I¡¯d prefer they remain contained, does not mean I believe they deserve to die with this hell hole!¡± Maeve took a deep breath to calm herself down. ¡°Unlike all the others corrupted by the court, the Lost Children are still innocent, unaware of the threat they truly pose. Hopefully, I¡¯ll be able to keep them contained when we escape and if not¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­¡± Part of him wanted more details on what kind of threat the Lost Children represented, but a quick glance at the cracks in the sky -already halfway to the horizon- had him reminding himself once more: (Priorities. Survive then deal with the complications.) With that in mind he turned back to the ferris wheel. ¡°How much further is that thing? This park¡¯s space is throwing me off more than I like.¡± Maeve glared at the ferris wheel. ¡°With the dredges cutting off our previous path, as well as likely cutting off others¡­ Too far, especially with us needing to ride it to its peak.¡± ¡°Any shortcuts?¡± He pressed. ¡°One.¡± Maeve grimaced, before setting off down the street. ¡°We can cut through the ringmaster¡¯s tent. I intended to go around it, but¡­ needs must.¡± ¡°And why didn¡¯t you want to cut through this tent exactly?¡± He wondered, a brief glance at the teens showing that they were following if close to each other, and Mr. Peabody guarding the rear just behind them. ¡°We¡¯re on a time crunch, so there must¡¯ve been a reason to avoid a shortcut.¡± ¡°There are several anchors holding the carnival together, the tent represents the one drawing people into the carnival''s trap.¡± Maeve explained. ¡°As the linchpin it¡¯s usually well protected but¡­ Given the dredges on the street and the crisis in the sky, we might be able to cut through without triggering them.¡± ¡°And I¡¯m guessing we can¡¯t simply cut around it rather than through it?¡± He frowned. ¡°Can you walk around that?¡± Maeve asked, gesturing to something in front of them. Turning forward he felt excitement as the music thrummed through the air, drawing him closer and closer to where the light peeked out from the tent¡¯s entryway before- A hand turned him away and dragged him back to reality. He blinked, looking around to find he was a good dozen paces from everyone else watching him worriedly. Maeve the only one next to him as she gripped the back of his neck and kept him looking at the kids. ¡°What¡­ what happened?¡± He asked, feeling light-headed. Maeve watched him for a moment before letting out a sigh. ¡°I was not expecting you to be so¡­ susceptible to mind magicks.¡± He winced, remembering what his book said about his resistance to ¡®Mind¡¯. (Fatally without the power of The Black Briar Librarian¡­) ¡°I¡¯m guessing this complicates things¡­¡± ¡°No more than anything else this night has wrought.¡± Maeve admitted, glaring behind him. ¡°We don¡¯t have time to work around this though given just how much of the carnival¡¯s magic twists this space.¡± He took a deep breath before pulling out one of his cigarettes and lighting it, not quite caring about second hand smoke now that he knew Ferris wasn¡¯t human. As the smoke filled his lungs, he used it as a distraction to keep anyone from noticing the bit of heat he was channeling where his prosthetic met flesh. An unpleasant sensation but like many times before, one that kept him grounded when he turned back towards whatever hypnotic effect the tent was giving off. ¡°Alright¡­ I can handle it as long as I know it¡¯s there.¡± He nodded, still in control of himself. ¡°Though I make no promises on how well I do should a fight break out.¡± Maeve nodded back. ¡°As long as you can keep moving. Children, hurry!¡± He couldn¡¯t help but notice the way the kids were watching him as they approached, worried looks on both their faces. ¡°Are¡­ are you okay?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll live. Just caught me off guard.¡± He grimaced, channeling just a bit more heat, a bit more pain, to keep him grounded. He tried to ignore the way Mr. Peabody was staring at him, eyes more aware than any dog¡¯s should be. ¡°Let¡¯s just get moving before anything else goes wrong.¡± He told everyone, the first one through into the tent. The inside of the circus tent was about what he was expecting, rows of stands lining around a ring in the center of the tent and only broken by several other entrances to the tent. Enough to fit hundreds of visitors, far more than what one would expect from a traveling circus. ¡°I¡­ was expecting something a little scarier¡­¡± Louis confessed as they all cut through the circus ring. ¡°I mean, there¡¯s some blood on the ground but¡­ there¡¯s blood everywhere in this hell hole¡­¡± ¡°Quinn must¡¯ve taken her pets with her. She¡¯s infected a number of animals with her blood. Corrupting them like everything else.¡± Maeve explained, before subtly catching Fischer¡¯s attention and looking upwards a finger to her lips. ¡°As long as she took them we¡¯ll be safe for the moment.¡± He frowned around his cigarette before looking up and seeing a dozen corpses strung along the trapeze wire. Dozens of cages hung from chains bound to the darkness above, each containing a set of hungry crimson eyes looking out from their prisons just waiting for prey to get just a little too close. ¡°Kitties¡­¡± Ferris mumbled, having followed his gaze. Unlike the Lost Child he understood Maeve¡¯s message, which is why he told the teens that, ¡°If there¡¯s no threats here then that just means we¡¯ve got more time to get to the ferris wheel before the sky finishes shattering.¡± (Best not to tempt the hungry beasts¡­) About half way through the tent Maeve paused, her eyes on a nearby pillar. One that he was fairly certain was supporting the entire tent. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°Considering whether or not it¡¯s worth bringing the tent down.¡± Maeve admitted. ¡°Is that smart, with everything?¡± He asked with a vague upward gesture. ¡°Likely not, but given her connection it might be enough to make Quinn stumble in her attempts to save the carnival.¡± The Theater Rose answered. ¡°And the bloody beasts getting loose might be enough to distract any remaining dredges.¡± ¡°If they don¡¯t go after us first.¡± He pointed out, eyes on the kids that had kept walking without them. ¡°Hence why I have to consider the choice.¡± Maeve glared. ¡°I can easily cut it so that it falls after we leave, but should the present court survive -something I¡¯ve no doubt with the King present- they¡¯d know I betrayed them¡­¡± ¡°Do you want to betray them?¡± He wondered, pretty sure he already knew the answer. ¡°I¡¯ve been with the Court for almost two hundred years¡­ and I hate every last one of them, what¡¯s worse I know they¡¯ll never leave me free¡­¡± The Theater Rose confessed sounding so very tired. He nodded in understanding, because while it might not be one for one, he had been there before. ¡°There¡¯s a saying I¡­ learned in the military.¡± (Before I got myself kicked out.) ¡°Never fight for someone not willing to fight for you. If you¡¯re really scared and hate this place after two hundred years with them, then burn it all to the fucking ground.¡± Maeve gave him an amused huff. ¡°I don¡¯t much care for fire myself, but-¡± Faster than he could react, the Theater Rose drew her blade and slashed three separate grooves into the pillar. ¡°-I appreciate the sentiment all the same.¡± ¡°Good, now let¡¯s get the fuck out of here because I am not fist fighting a vampire bear.¡± He warned Roisin. ¡°You won¡¯t have to.¡± Maeve chuckled as they both moved to catch up to the kids. The Crimson Carnival: Chapter XII, The Final Hour The Crimson Carnival: Chapter XII, The Final Hour --- Gregory Fischer --- ¡°What were you two doing?¡± Melanie frowned at them, when they reunited at the tent¡¯s exit. ¡°Settling unfinished business.¡± Maeve answered, a slight skip in her step as she looked at the ferris wheel just a bit away from them. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be much longer now until we leave this accursed place behind.¡± ¡°Not soon enough.¡± He told her, tossing his cigarette on the ground as he followed after. And it wasn¡¯t very long -maybe ten minutes in total- before they heard a massive crashing sound behind them. One that could likely be heard throughout the park from how loud it was. ¡°What was that?!¡± Louis jumped, spinning around to look behind them. Instead of looking behind them, Gregory looked at the pillar of light. Noticing that its pink tone had darkened, just a few tones off from the shade of red that Maeve¡¯s magic gave off. (Meaning they are doing something over there¡­) Whether or not the pillar stuttering was his imagination or Maeve¡¯s distraction working, he couldn¡¯t tell. ¡°Nothing of import, when our destination is straight ahead.¡± Maeve assured the kids, redirecting everyone¡¯s attention towards the clearing the ferris wheel had been set up in. ¡°And we¡¯re sure we¡¯ll be able to get out of here with this?¡± Melanie asked, despite looking behind them for whatever had made the noise. Maeve pulled out her emblem before raising it to the sky, where far below the cracks that nearly reached the horizon a smaller red crack seemed to form in the air. ¡°That should be our egress there. We simply need to reach it.¡± ¡°By riding the ferris wheel.¡± Louis noted, looking at the massive machine standing still. ¡°Does uh, anyone know how to make this thing move? ¡°Figured it¡¯d already be moving with the Jester coming this way.¡± He admitted before checking his map and finding that. ¡°Whoever they were, they¡¯re not on the map anymore¡­ Though the crown and the hat are both still at the haunted house.¡± ¡°Given the situation they may have simply climbed the machine rather than riding it.¡± Maeve pointed out, before seemingly judging the structure. ¡°Truthfully, I believe I could do the same though I doubt I could manage such with our entire party.¡± ¡°Same.¡± He nodded, easily able to picture the path he¡¯d take with his dashes. (Still figuring out how these paper ¡®dodges¡¯ differ from my smoke dash. In which case¡­) He turned his attention to a small booth next to the wheel. ¡°Let¡¯s see if we can¡¯t figure out how to get this thing spinning.¡± Inside the booth he found a panel with a key switch and a good dozen switches on it, the various labels either scraped off or stained a dark red by what he was sure was blood. ¡°Uh, any idea which button we¡¯re supposed to hit?¡± Louis asked, as everyone stood outside of the rather cramped booth. ¡°You need tickets!¡± Ferris declared from where he¡¯d sat the Lost Child down, the kid digging in his clown suit before pulling out the same roll of tickets he¡¯d shown off before. ¡°I¡¯ve got enough for everyone! I think¡­¡± Despite himself he couldn¡¯t help but give the kid an amused huff. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯ve got enough. Just need to get the door open.¡± Flipping the switches at random, eventually showed him how to both get the wheel spinning and to open the doors on the various carriages. ¡°Alright kid, I need¡­ six tickets for everyone to ride.¡± With no small amount of excitement Ferris began tearing off his tickets one by one, counting them out with a big smile before offering them. ¡°And that¡¯ll do it.¡± He chuckled at the kid, accepting the tickets before slapping them against the panel just out of sight. ¡°Everyone move it, we¡¯re going to have to jump on when a carriage passes.¡± ¡°We shall also have to ride in the same carriage for my key to work for everyone.¡± Maeve warned. ¡°Then kids first and we¡¯ll hop on after.¡± He told everyone, picking Ferris up and handing him to Melanie. ¡°Right.¡± Melanie nodded back with a determined look as she and Louis watched for the next carriage before quickly stepping on when it got close. Once they were inside and away from the door Mr. Peabody leapt on after them, and he hopped on after the dog as the carriage started to rise off the ground. Once he got his footing he quickly turned and offered his hand to Maeve who had to actually jump to make it onto the carriage. ¡°Alright, couldn¡¯t close the door and get us on here so kids stay back, adults in the at risk seats.¡± He sighed, dropping into one as his eyes checked the horizon and the cracks getting far too close to it for his comfort. (Then again we¡¯re all in the risky seats right now¡­) Something Louis seemed to pick up on as the teenager glanced at the horizon too. ¡°Any idea how long it¡¯ll take to get to the top?¡± ¡°No more than a half of an hour.¡± Maeve assured the teen before leaning back in her seat and crossing one leg over the other. ¡°Unfortunately, we¡¯ve little else to do but wait for the key to respond to the gate.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure I¡¯m comfortable just sitting here when I know this whole place is about to blow up.¡± Melanie admitted, trying to keep a bouncing Ferris in place. ¡°Actually, since we¡¯ve got nothing but time¡­ What¡¯s the story with the Lost Children?¡± He frowned, turning back to the Theater Rose. ¡°You¡¯re scared of them escaping this place, and the other clowns were outright scared of them, and yet you don¡¯t want them to die like the rest of this place.¡± Maeve let out a sigh as she stared at Ferris. ¡°I suppose that¡¯s a fair question given our previous clash¡­ The Lost Children are¡­ one of the greatest tragedies born to this corrupt carnival.¡± The Theater Rose looked out the window as she continued to explain that, ¡°Before the Carnival¡¯s Corruption, we were a place where many came to bask in joys and merriment that could not normally be found in such harsh times. So when the Corruption began, many people died¡­ Many, those of us in charge were unaware of¡­¡± Maeve let out another sigh. ¡°Such as the many children they brought with them¡­¡±This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. He glanced at Ferris, The Lost Child, as he remembered just how monstrous the kid had looked when he refused to let him ¡®play¡¯. (So that means the kid is¡­) ¡°I¡¯m not sure what happened, the magic of the Carnival was not something I often dealt with, but something in it¡­ echoed the children in a way. It¡¯s magic slowly amalgamating the feelings of children who wanted nothing more than to play in the Carnival, until at last the first Lost Child appeared.¡± Roisin¡¯s face twisted as if remembering something painful. ¡°At the time we didn¡¯t know what to do with the child, nor what to do with it. Or the others that appeared as time went on, until Barbra finally made the connection of what they were.¡± ¡°Deadmen...¡± He grimaced, having met only a few in his time even with how much death had been on the battlefield. Melanie swallowed, glancing towards the Lost Child as if unsure whether she should hug him or push him away. ¡°So wait, Ferris is a¡­ a¡­¡± ¡°Ghost.¡± Louis finished, looking half-ready to jump out of the carriage. ¡°Aye.¡± Maeve confirmed like a death sentence. ¡°And with that revelation we realized just what the rest of the Court had been keeping from us. The nightmare they¡¯d turned this sanctuary of mine into.¡± (If the kid is a Deadman¡­ One that can bring down an entire horde of Dead-Kids¡­ Yeah, I can see why Maeve wanted them contained in the park.) He ran a hand down his face. ¡°Is the¡­ ¡®Hunger¡¯ going to be a problem?¡± He paused, the already scared teens. ¡°I mean, you¡¯re a vampire right? Blood magic and everything.¡± The Theater Rose watched him for a moment, ever so briefly looking towards the kids. Ferris in particular before giving him a nod of understanding. ¡°While the modern myths of vampires are closer than the ones of my youth, there are many inaccuracies. Namely the need to kill in order to feed.¡± Mave glanced at Ferris once more before looking him in the eye. ¡°So, you need not worry. I will make sure there is no human death from any sort of hunger I have. Even if I need become a pig farmer to do so.¡± ¡°W-wait, hold on. Ferris is a ghost and, and she¡¯s a vampire?¡± Louis asked, apparently falling behind in his fright. ¡°She¡¯s a heroic vampire, Ferris is a tragic ghost, and Fischer is the wizard saving them!¡± Melanie interrupted. ¡°I see stuff like this all the time in my books!¡± ¡°But those are books, not reality!¡± Louis pointed out. ¡°I very much doubt I¡¯m what you would consider heroic.¡± Maeve added. ¡°And don¡¯t trust anyone that calls themselves a wizard. Especially if they try to take you to a second location.¡± He warned the kids, because, ¡°There was this cult wiping people¡¯s memories left and right a few years after the war and kidnapping kids. If you see one of those racist wand twiddlers just pretend you saw nothing and walk away before they flash you.¡± ¡°Oh¡­¡± Melanie blinked, clearly unsure of how to take his warning about stranger danger. Something that was apparently shared by everyone other than Ferris, who was now standing on the seat and looking out the window behind them with a wide awe filled smile. Deciding that it was best to change the subject, he asked Maeve, ¡°Do you have any idea where this exit is going to spit us out? Because I¡¯m pretty sure the kids and I are from¡­ very far away from each other, and I didn¡¯t get here by normal means.¡± The Theater Rose frowned consideringly as she pulled out her Rose Emblem. ¡°Given how our main goal is getting the children to their home, it may be best for one of them to hold this. When we near the gate all they need to do is think of their home and it shall take them there.¡± ¡°Ooh, me, me!¡± Melanie called reaching for the Blood Key. ¡°Do I have to say magic words? Or cast a spell?¡± ¡°When the key starts glowing, simply think of home, and when the carriage passes through it will leave us there.¡± Maeve explained with a shrug, clearly having never given the spellwork much thought. (I guess, I can use Briar¡¯s recall anywhere¡­ As soon as I figure out how to make it work, then I can drop off whatever Story I¡¯ve found, go home and crash after eating an entire pizza.) ¡°Actually, thinking of, what will you guys be doing when we get out of here?¡± He wondered, hoping the kids would get some semblance of normality after this nightmare of a night. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know.¡± Louis admitted, running a hand through his hair and looking like all the stress of the night was hitting him. ¡°I mean, we went to the carnival parked outside of our town and got dragged into this nightmare and¡­ after, after Caspian¡­ and shit, how many others from town came here tonight?¡± He couldn¡¯t help but grimace at how badly that little distraction had spiraled, especially as Melanie moved across the carriage and wrapped an arm around Louis looking equally as confused and devastated when the boy asked, ¡°Can we go back to normal?¡± (PTSD is a bitch¡­) He had more than his fair share of it, which is why rather than thinking about why he could smell burning meat he turned his attention towards the Theater Rose. ¡°How about you?¡± ¡°My situation¡­ admittedly isn¡¯t much better than theirs.¡± Maeve confessed, even as she looked more resigned to her fate than the teens still processing things. ¡°With the Court hunting me¡­ It¡¯s only a matter of time before they drag me back. If I¡¯m lucky I might manage a few years of peace before they do, but¡­ I¡¯ve long since learned that their pursuit is unending.¡± (And that is just as depressing as the kids¡­ Fuck. Fine if there¡¯s no escaping the rough subjects then,) ¡°You¡¯ve mentioned the Court a few times, who are they exactly?¡± ¡°The Crimson Court is one of the oldest vampiric bloodlines alive, dating back¡­ further than I care to guess.¡± Roisin answered, sounding detached from the topic as if she were trying to answer without really thinking about it. ¡°They¡¯ve some of the most powerful blood mages and practitioners across the realms, and use their magic to spread their influence far and wide. Ever in the pursuit of fulfilling their king¡¯s bloody desires, no matter how savage or cruel. What¡¯s worse, is that many join unaware of just how corrupt the court is until there¡¯s not a drop of blood in their veins not fed by the innocent.¡± ¡°Are¡­ are they going to keep coming after us? Our town?¡± Melanie frowned with no small amount of concern. Maeve shook her head. ¡°They shouldn¡¯t. While the Court¡¯s power is great, it is also spread thin. With the Carnival¡¯s collapse, they will lose track of your home in the chaos. They¡¯ll likely spend the next few years far more interested in finding the cause of this disaster and tracking down any nobility attempting to run.¡± (Such as you.) He didn¡¯t say, figuring that would just be poking an open wound at this point. (With the way the Library can teleport people¡­ maybe Briar will have something that can help her, be it escaping or containing Ferris¡¯s whole thing.) He doubted it could do much for the kid¡¯s issues, given how hard losing people was and how fresh that wound, but¡­ (There¡¯s got to be something I can do to help everyone¡­) A screech tore through the air just before the carriage was sent shaking. He jumped to his feet in spite of the still rocking carriage. ¡°What was that?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡± Maeve admitted, eyes drifting around the windows. ¡°Birdie!¡± Ferris laughed. Across from him Maeve¡¯s eyes went wide as she looked behind him. ¡°Oh, no.¡± The carriage shook again, this time hard enough that he had to grab the carriage door to keep balance. ¡°What the fuck was that?!¡± Louis screamed, both of the teens on their feet. Gripping the carriage door, he leaned out of the open doorway looking for the thing attacking them. When he failed to immediately find it his eyes briefly darted towards the crimson pattern that marked the gate, (five minutes at least¡­) Movement in the corner of his eye snapped his attention to a massive winged creature with grey skin, solid white eyes, and a mouth full of fangs diving through the air before crashing into the carriage. ¡°The fuck is that?¡± He growled, stumbling back as the carriage hinges screeched far more than he was comfortable with this high in the air. ¡°A Dracule¡­¡± Maeve answered, her face pale. The Crimson Carnival: Chapter XIII, A Dance Between Death And The Dracule The Crimson Carnival: Chapter XIII, A Dance Between Death And The Dracule --- Gregory Fischer --- ¡°Alright, and what exactly is a¡­ Dracule?¡± He asked, looking around for the beast performing hit-and-runs on them. ¡°Other than a giant man-bat monster¡­ thing.¡± ¡°They¡¯re¡­¡± Maeve grit her teeth before shaking her head and gaining a determined look. ¡°They¡¯re people who lost their minds to the Court¡¯s Corruptive Bloodline. Rather than mercy-killing their feral corpses the Court mutilated their flesh into these monstrosities. Brutish warriors to work the noble¡¯s twisted agendas.¡± ¡°Great, so it¡¯s a vampire super soldier.¡± He¡¯d fought a few flesh-sculpted monstrosities during the war, but it wasn¡¯t exactly a common practice given how unstable the monsters were. (That said¡­) He narrowed his eyes, pulling out a carton of smokes as he caught sight of the Dracule readying another dive. In a feat borne of a decade of practice he flicked a smoke in the air before catching it between his lips and quickly lighting it as he inhaled the chem filled smoke within. The moment he could make out the white of the beast¡¯s eyes, he exhaled a torrent of magic infused smoke straight into its face. Blinding it and knocking the beast off course as it struggled to breathe through the smog he practically lived off of. He couldn¡¯t help but smirk at the instinct born from an evolutionary track that every Flesh Sculptor tried to side-step. (These things always hate smoke and fire.) Keeping his eyes open, he told Maeve that, ¡°We¡¯re getting close to the gate. If we can just stall that thing for a few minutes we should be able evac.¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid I won''t be of much aid there.¡± The Theater Rose confessed even as she drew her dagger. ¡°Whatever dark rituals they use to turn one of my kind into a Dracule it twists the Old Blood. Blood magicks will only empower it further rather than harming it.¡± ¡°Fantastic.¡± He sighed, before feeling the carriage shake. ¡°That felt different than last time.¡± Leaning out the door, he found himself having to quickly duck back inside to avoid having his face torn off, the Dracule having apparently decided that dive bombing them wasn¡¯t worth it anymore. ¡°Shit. It¡¯s on the roof.¡± As if to punctuate this statement a set of claws punctured the carriage roof, digging into the metal as the beast tried to get inside. ¡°W-what do we do?!¡± Melanie asked, pulling Ferris close as Louis tried to cover her. ¡°Try to knock it off.¡± He grimaced, unable to help but glance at the ground far below before grabbing onto the edge of the door and swinging himself so that he was on the outside of the carriage. ¡°Yo fugly!¡± The Dracule glared at him with snarl on its maw, before letting loose a screech that had him wincing as it tried to rupture his ear drums. ¡°Fuck you too!¡± He spat back, before glancing at the next carriage over. (Here¡¯s hoping this works the way I hope it does.) Willing himself forward he used his ¡®Dodge¡¯ spell to move onto the next carriage¡¯s roof, putting him just above the Dracule clinging to their own carriage. A drop of several hundred feet separating them by a couple of meters. (Oh, what I wouldn¡¯t do to be able to cast a fireball spell right now.) Not having that option, he instead once more cast the spell his Book had given back to him as he inhaled on his cigarette before unleashing another Smoke Screen at the beast. Hoping its instinctive fears would be enough to drive it back. A hope that proved worthless as he found himself stumbling back from the Dracule¡¯s claws, just before the beast leapt across the divide sending the carriage swinging. Forcing him to cling onto the machine to keep from slipping off. Seeing an opening the Dracule swung its claws, hoping to exploit his slip-up to gut him. Which is why it stumbled back instead when he managed to parry the blow off his metal arm, sending a handful of pages flying around him but leaving him standing. ¡°I¡¯ll reiterate¡­¡± He huffed, trying to find his footing even as flicked the monster off. ¡°Fuck you.¡± The Dracule reared back, its clawed feet letting it keep balance as it readied another soul rending screech. One he wouldn¡¯t let it voice as he curled his fingers and unleashed a fist full of flame straight into its throat even as it cost him his balance. Something the Dracule had lost as well when he rolled with his lack of balance to tackle it, knocking one of its clawed feet loose of the carriage. Even as he clung to the beast desperate not to fall to his death. Not that a lethal fall was enough to stop him from grasping the beast¡¯s snarling maw, bits of cinder from his prosthetic burning its face even as he held back his magic. Waiting. The struggling Dracule, moved to rip him off with its claws, each swipe tearing pages from his form as he held his ground. At least until he spat the remains of his cigarette into the mouth he¡¯d pried open after pushing as much heat as he could into it. With a careful thought he dashed back to the carriage everyone else was in, hoping to buy himself a moment to breathe as the Dracule choked on his burning cigarette butt.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Pulling out a replacement, he watched the Dracule as in a feat of inhuman physiology it righted itself, his distraction not working half as well as he¡¯d hoped. Even if it did let him get another glimpse of the gate. (A few more minutes¡­ Just a few more minutes¡­) With his second chem smoke lit, he entered a stance and curled his fingers twice. ¡°Round two?¡± The Dracule snarled and reared back to screech- only to instead leap forward, tackling him off of the carriage and causing them both to slam into the next. The majority of the impact hitting him as he was crushed between metal and flesh, his spine intact only due to the flurry of pages bursting forth from his being. Luckily or unluckily the Dracule managed to scrape and scrabble, clinging to the bottom of the carriage even as Gregory was forced to once more cling to it to keep from falling himself. The beast kicked its leg trying to shake him loose as the heat in his hand continued to burn at its flesh. His cybernetic grip managing to keep a hold of the beast even if his organic one would¡¯ve been knocked loose by now. Inhaling deep, he took in as many of the chemicals in his smokes as possible, flooding his veins in fire to fuel his next physical feat. With a growl his organic hand shot forward, digging into the Dracule¡¯s flesh as he used this newfound power to climb his way up onto the beast¡¯s back, where he wrapped his metallic arm around its throat as tightly as he could. Unfortunately this was the last straw as the Dracule let go of the carriage. (Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Oh, shit!!!) They both spiraled through the air, and when they weren¡¯t they were being knocked back and forth between the ferris wheel¡¯s metal skeleton. Pain seeping through even as paper cushioned any impacts on his end. Eventually the beast tired of this treatment and began to spin, escaping the metal death trap before spreading its wings and taking flight. A series of events that left his world spinning as he continued to hold on. With more mobility available the Dracule began flying erratically trying to knock him off of it. Something he refused to accept. Especially when he saw how close everyone else was to the gate and escaping this hellhole. (I can¡­ hang on¡­ a little longer¡­) Seeing his refusal to let go, and that the rest of its prey was about to escape, the Dracule closed its wings shifting its focus from trying to shake him off to once more dive bombing the ferris wheel carriage. (Oh, no you don¡¯t.) Gritting his teeth he began desperately kicking at the beast¡¯s wings, hoping to throw it off course to minimal success. Glancing towards the carriage growing ever closer, he caught sight of Mr. Peabody standing in the door frame before rearing back and letting loose a sound so very much like that of the Dracule¡¯s screech. Something the beast did not like at all as it let loose a cry of pain, its wings unfurling as it tried to hover away from its attacker. Which left them open for him to dig his flame filled hand into the thin flesh between its wings, tearing open a number of small holes that he promptly made larger as he raked his hand free. The Dracule struggled to remain in the air with its mutilated wing, only to find this increasingly difficult as with his added weight the beast slowly spiraled towards the pavement. (Really hope this works!) Beneath him the Dracule violently crashed into the ground, breaking several of its bones in the impact. A fate he just barely evaded by using his Dodge spell to kill his momentum just before the momentum could kill him. ¡°Fuck!¡± Or most of his momentum, as the impact he felt upon hitting the ground still felt like he¡¯d fallen a couple of stories. (Better than the full fall at least¡­) He gasped, staring dazedly at the ferris wheel and the fractured sky behind it. One that looked just moments from touching the horizon as he picked himself off the ground. (Shit. Need¡­ Need to get back to everyone¡­ No time left¡­) Something scraped along the pavement. Reacting faster than he could cast, he dove back to the ground, but even then he still felt claws rake across his back. ¡°Oh, come on¡­ How are you not dead yet?!¡± He yelled at the limping beast hunched over but still growling as he climbed back onto his feet. Rather than answering the Dracule merely shrieked at him, the sound so much less than the cries before its crash. ¡°Yeah¡­ you know what?¡± He gasped as he pulled out one last smoke and lit it. ¡°I¡¯ve said it before and I¡¯ll say it again¡­¡± With lungs full of Smoke he shot forward and leapt, grabbing onto the sides of the Dracule¡¯s head before slamming its face into his left knee. ¡°Fuck.¡± He spun and dropped his metal elbow onto the back of the beast¡¯s neck. ¡°You!¡± That last word echoed with the cracking of the Dracule¡¯s neck over his knee, the beast going limp as the sound of breaking neck surrounded him. (Wait¡­) His eyes shot towards the sky, seeing the way that the cracks were rapidly growing, breaking the sky into a rainbow mosaic of a thousand pieces as they finally passed the horizon. (Oh no¡­) Something tackled him to the ground, sending him into a spin that he just barely managed to keep his balance from as he dragged his metal fingers against the ground. ¡°I don¡¯t have time for another- dog?¡± He blinked, as he looked at Mr. Peabody practically glaring at him before barking. ¡°What?¡± The dog shook their head before shaking their head towards the ferris wheel. ¡°R-right.¡± They weren¡¯t dead yet. Both he and Mr. Peabody shot towards the ferris wheel, his eyes quickly locking onto the carriage with the kids in it as the crimson portal in the sky grew. Maeve sticking her head out with an expression that he couldn¡¯t make out as she glanced between him and the gate. (I can¡¯t get up there in time.) He realized. Even if he had his actual smoke dash he wouldn¡¯t be able to get up there before they had to get through the gate. A growling sound and the fluttering of pages drew his attention towards Mr. Peabody, pages swirling around the dog as it seemed to almost triple in size, taking on an almost feral appearance. The massive beast suddenly crouched, causing him to stumble into it, before the dog leapt into the air with enough magical force to drag him up with it. While in the air Mr. Peabody did a flip, curling around Fischer in a flutter of paper seemingly to drag him along as the dog used his own dash to get them to the carriage. Or he¡¯s pretty sure that was the plan before the dog suddenly exploded into paper, leaving Mr. Peabody his normal size with a wide-eyed yip. (Shit.) ¡°Fischer!¡± Just as gravity began to drag him and the dog back down, his eyes shot towards a vine of crimson thorns flying his way. Moving as swiftly as he could he wrapped his organic arm around Mr. Peabody, and the vines around his metal hand, uncaring of the way it dug into the metal. With a visible show of exertion as the carriage began to fill with the crimson, Maeve pulled on her vine of thorns. The force of the pull dragging both him and Mr. Peabody through the air as they were sent flying towards the carriage. The Crimson Carnival: Chapter XIV, Until The Sun Comes Up The Crimson Carnival: Chapter XIV, Until The Sun Comes Up --- Gregory Fischer --- The world flashed red, a wave of cold warmth washing over him, before he found himself hitting the ground in a tangle of limbs both human and canine. Paper flying all around him as he hit the grass covered ground far harder than he should¡¯ve. Rolling onto his back he found the world spinning around him as he shoved an equally disoriented dog off of him. Long since used to close calls and concussions both he pushed through his discomfort and asked, ¡°Everyone else alive?¡± ¡°Aye.¡± Mave called with a grimace as she looked at her shoulder. ¡°Though I don¡¯t believe I¡¯ve had a trip through the gate that disorienting before¡­ Also you dislocated my shoulder.¡± He grimaced back at the vampire sitting a few paces away. ¡°Need me to help set it?¡± Maeve shook her head as a crimson vine seemed to wrap around her shoulder. ¡°Nay. I have it handled.¡± The vines tightened forcing the vampire¡¯s shoulder back into slot. ¡°There we are.¡± Having reset his own shoulder and reattached his arm multiple times, he didn¡¯t comment instead asking, ¡°You see the kids anywhere?¡± ¡°We¡¯re¡­ we¡¯re over here!¡± Louis called from the otherside of the clearing, just before the sound of someone vomiting filled the air. ¡°Ah, not on me, not on me!¡± He looked at Melanie¡¯s hunched form and nodded as he pulled out a cigarette to settle his own stomach. ¡°Yeah, Warp Sickness is a bitch.¡± Melanie spat something on the ground before looking around. ¡°Where¡­ where¡¯s Ferris?¡± He glanced around the clearing before spotting the Lost Child staring at the sky above. ¡°He¡¯s there and¡­ You okay little buddy?¡± When the kid gave no response, he took a hit of his Smoke before forcing himself to his feet and making his way over. He waved a hand in front of the kid¡¯s face before frowning at the way the Lost Child¡¯s eyes seemed to be flickering between black and green. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Maeve asked as she came over. ¡°Something¡¯s up with Ferris¡­ This have anything to do with that Lost Children thing?¡± He wondered. ¡°Possibly¡­¡± The Theater Rose admitted. ¡°As I said we never actually let him leave the Carnival, and that¡¯s before the matter of all the other children being active when he did finally escape.¡± He frowned before inhaling deeply and then exhaling, repeating the exercise as he slowly felt the flow of magic and Smoke through his veins. With the flow in his grasp, he put a hand on Ferris¡¯s chest and began pushing his magic through the Lost Child. A simple scanning spell, that wasn¡¯t actually a spell so much as the raw manipulation of Anima. Something he hoped would allow him to work around the book¡¯s restrictions as he was coming to understand them. And slowly he was able to piece together a little bit, even if the few medical spells he knew would¡¯ve told him more. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t think this is a bad thing¡­¡± He told Maeve and everyone else that had walked over during his inspection. ¡°Every time his eyes flash, what would be a Spell System in anyone else, is reinforcing ever so slightly. My best guess? Each flash is him collecting one of the missing Lost Children into whatever hive thing they¡¯ve got going on.¡± ¡°So I was right.¡± Maeve let out a relieved sigh. ¡°Saving one of them did save them all.¡± ¡°Think so.¡± He nodded as he stood back up. ¡°No telling how long he¡¯ll be at this though, and I don¡¯t think we can just pause it.¡± ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t think we have to?¡± Melanie admitted, looking around. ¡°I think I recognize where we are. This is where Caspian and I¡­¡± Louis placed a hand on Melanie¡¯s shoulder even as he grimaced, before telling them, ¡°If this is where I think it is we¡¯re about a mile out from the town.¡± ¡°A mile sounds doable.¡± He nodded, before picking Ferris up once more. ¡°Lead the way.¡± ¡°Yeah, it should be¡­ this way?¡± Louis told them, sounding a little unsure as they started moving. ¡°It¡¯s, uh, it¡¯s easier to tell in the daylight¡­¡± Despite that awkward start, the kid was eventually able to lead them to a trail and from that trail to a street that in turn led them to a town significantly smaller than anything he¡¯d seen in the city. (Honestly this is more of a neighborhood than a town. I mean they can¡¯t have more than what? Six thousand people here?)A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Then again everyone seemed to be spread out over a much larger space than he was used to, the streets and sidewalks almost empty compared to what he¡¯d see back home. (It¡¯s almost nice¡­) And it would be if the relative quiet wasn¡¯t setting off every ¡®there is a predator here¡¯ instinct he had. An instinct that only he seemed to be having a problem with given how even Maeve and Mr. Peabody seemed relatively relaxed as they made their way through the streets. ¡°We¡¯re really back¡­¡± Melanie chuckled as they passed a few shops with just a few people inside. ¡°I know we were only gone for a few hours but¡­¡± ¡°Tonight felt like months¡­¡± Louis agreed, an arm wrapped around his friend. ¡°It was a long night.¡± He admitted, remembering how hard the first ¡®long night¡¯ could be as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. ¡°But you both pulled through. You should be proud of that.¡± Louis gave him a wry grin, more a half-grimace than anything. ¡°Yeah¡­ I¡­ I kind of just want to go home and wake up to find this was all a nightmare more than anything else.¡± ¡°Your nightmare is over, and you can go home, beyond that¡­ Your fate is up to you now.¡± Maeve told the teen, clearly trying to be supportive if he understood her point of view from being stuck in the Carnival for¡­ (centuries I think¡­) ¡°That¡¯s¡­ kind of a big thought¡­¡± Melanie confessed. Fischer nodded as he took a hit of his cigarette. ¡°There¡¯s no crying until the sun comes up¡¯. It¡¯s a saying from my war days, and while it might be night¡­ the sun is coming up. Everything else is¡­ just smoke on the wind.¡± ¡°So what we just¡­ cry it out?¡± Louis frowned, his face scrunching up in confusion. ¡°You go home. You cry until you can¡¯t. You sleep. And then you do what you¡¯ve got to do.¡± He shrugged, not ashamed to admit he cried the first time he lost someone. (It¡¯s only human.) ¡°What that is is up to you. This whole thing is¡­ it¡¯s a fucked situation you kids shouldn¡¯t have been dragged into.¡± ¡°No one should¡¯ve.¡± Maeve agreed, not meeting anyone¡¯s eyes. ¡°The Court has spent centuries ruining people¡¯s lives. The fact that you got out both alive and bloodless¡­ is a miracle in of itself.¡± ¡°We weren¡¯t the only ones at the Carnival¡­¡± Melanie told them, her eyes on the ground. ¡°There were dozens of people from town¡­ and now they¡¯re all just¡­ gone¡­¡± Fischer¡¯s eyes narrowed as he looked at the teen, seeing what he knew was but the first step to the fucked up place he¡¯d let his life become. ¡°But you¡¯re not. Neither of you are. You¡¯re here, and you¡¯re the only ones who know what happened.¡± He sighed, before telling them. ¡°People aren¡¯t going to believe you because of the Carnival¡¯s collapse, but you know what happened. You¡¯re the ones who know that Story, and as long as you know what happened. What really happened, then¡­ you¡¯re also the only ones who can settle things for them. The only ones who can try and give them and their loved ones closure.¡± Gregory ran a hand down his face, trying to get to the point he was trying to make. ¡°You¡¯re alive and they¡¯re not. So live enough for all of you. Do the things they can¡¯t, for them.¡± It wasn¡¯t what he¡¯d done, probably wasn¡¯t what he could do at this point, but (I wish it was¡­) He wasn¡¯t sure if either kid got what he was trying to say, but he hoped they did. After a few moments Louis gave Melanie a look before asking, ¡°Do you uh, do you know how long you¡¯ll be in town for? If we need to talk¡­¡± He couldn¡¯t help but grimace. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t. The Carnival¡¯s pocket dimension¡­ it took me a lot further from home than I like and¡­¡± He glanced at Ferris and Maeve. ¡°I¡¯m hoping my boss can help us with certain issues.¡± ¡°Oh¡­¡± Louis frowned. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ try to get in touch if I can. It¡¯s just¡­¡± He sighed. ¡°My sun isn¡¯t up just yet.¡± ¡°Right¡­¡± Louis sighed himself, as the teen ran a hand through his hair. ¡°Well¡­ If you¡¯re ever in town I guess¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯ll find you. Both of you.¡± He nodded, not sure if he could or would be back but hating the idea of leaving these two on their own like this. Not after everything he¡¯d done to keep them alive. (And would you look at that¡­ I actually kept the kids alive this time¡­) He gave the kids a wry grin as they took their leave, huddled close. ¡°You¡¯ve done what you can for them. More than what most would.¡± Maeve assured him. ¡°Maybe¡­ still doesn¡¯t feel like enough¡­¡± He admitted. ¡°It never will¡­¡± Maeve agreed. After a moment of silence the Theater Rose asked him, ¡°So what of us now? You said you wish to ask your employer for aid.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± He puffed at his cigarette wondering how best to explain this. ¡°My employer has access to some¡­ powerful magic.¡± He held his book up. ¡°I¡¯m still getting the hang of it, but this comes with several perks. One of which was the fact that she was able to teleport me straight into the Carnival similar to how your gate got us out.¡± ¡°Does that mean your employer could¡¯ve extracted us at any time?¡± Maeve frowned, crossing her arms. ¡°She could¡¯ve gotten me and Peabody out, but I¡¯m not sure about you or the kids since it''s tied to our books.¡± He shrugged, not bothering to explain how he didn¡¯t even know how to trigger Briar¡¯s extraction. ¡°As is, I¡¯m not sure how to get the four of us into the Library for her to help us.¡± Mr. Peabody let out a bark, drawing their attention to him as the dog walked in a circle before starting off in a direction. Only briefly pausing to see if they were following. ¡°I guess he knows where to go?¡± Fischer blinked. Maeve considered the dog for a moment. ¡°I suppose after his attempt at rescuing you he has proven he¡¯s not a normal dog.¡± With no other options or objections both of them set out to follow Mr. Peabody, the dog seeming to know exactly where to go despite never having been here before. Then again, given their final destination Fischer felt like, ¡°I really should¡¯ve been able to guess this one.¡± The Theater Rose gave him a curious look. ¡°The group I work for is called ¡®The Black Briar Library¡¯ and well¡­¡± He trailed off with a gesture to the town library. ¡°Ah.¡± Maeve nodded, still not getting it. The Crimson Carnival: Chapter XV, The Sun Comes Up (Book II, End) The Crimson Carnival: Chapter XV, The Sun Comes Up --- Gregory Fischer --- Hoping he wasn¡¯t about to look like an idiot, he made his way up the library steps before putting his hand on the door handle. (Here¡¯s hoping this actually works.) The door opened and he found himself looking at a library he was not familiar with, before closing the door with a frown. ¡°Is something wrong?¡± Maeve asked, not quite judgemental even if something skeptical was underlining her tone. ¡°Uh, just some¡­ technical difficulties.¡± He admitted, shifting Ferris in his arms before glancing down at Mr. Peabody with a look somewhere between askance and confusion. The dog rolled his eyes before Mr. Peabody nudged his head towards the familiar looking insignia on the satchel the dog had been wearing since Fischer met him. ¡°It¡¯s been a long night.¡± He reminded the dog as he remembered the mental key into the library. Just like he had the morning prior he focused on the emblem of a black rose and thorns, before pushing the door open to the library he was looking for. The dark lit atrium full of towering book shelves and piles of books messily stacked all over the place. All in a space notably larger than the small town library they¡¯d opened the door into. ¡°You turned the door into a Gate.¡± Maeve noted as she followed after him. ¡°Something like that. I¡¯ll admit I don¡¯t quite know where the Library itself is, but I can come and go as I please.¡± (Though I¡¯ll have to ask how to get the door to take me home¡­ Eh, I can figure it out myself.) ¡°Once we find my boss, we can hopefully talk everything out.¡± He once more glanced towards Mr. Peabody. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you know where Briar is?¡± The dog started forward a short distance before stopping and sitting on the massive emblem of a black rose with thorns. ¡°Hmm, at the very least I can appreciate your organization¡¯s coat of arms.¡± The Theater Rose confessed upon seeing the insignia. ¡°Uh-huh.¡± He nodded, looking over the moving shadows of the library trying to figure out where Briar was. (She¡¯s probably going to pop up behind me again, isn¡¯t she?) ¡°One moment!¡± A voice called from behind a massive counter that he hadn¡¯t noticed before. ¡°Just have to¡­¡± A large stack of books slowly raising from behind it before being set on the counter. ¡°And there!¡± Briar stepped out from behind the stack and gave them a large smile as she adjusted her glasses. ¡°Ooh, you boys brought guests!¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ Was hoping we could do something to help them. I picked them up from the Carnival.¡± He admitted, before grimacing. ¡°Which I didn¡¯t get a book of¡­ And I don¡¯t think we can go back to it.¡± Briar nodded sympathetically rather than upset he¡¯d botched his first job. ¡°I know, but you got enough Stories to make it worth the trip!¡± His boss assured him with a gesture towards the tower of books. ¡°What?¡± Briar gave him a flat look. ¡°You haven¡¯t been checking your book have you?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been checking it.¡± He frowned, before hooking a thumb towards Maeve. ¡°Almost lost a fight to her because I did.¡± He blatantly ignored the, ¡°Almost?¡± from behind him. ¡°But were you checking your working drafts?¡± Briar asked him pointedly. ¡°When I got there, but I got caught up with things¡­¡± He winced. Briar looked at the stack of books and then back to him. ¡°Clearly. I mean you only had to bring back one Story, not all of these.¡± ¡°I¡¯m an overachiever.¡± He shrugged, telling quite possibly the most blatant lie of his life. ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Briar turned to Mr. Peabody. ¡°And, how would you say he did?¡± ¡°Well, while he¡¯s not the greatest at the investigative side of things, he¡¯s adaptable enough that he can keep up when a Story hotspot inevitably gets chaotic. His tendency to over attach to the locals may also provide an ample opportunity for sequel Stories that you and I tend to repel rather than attract. All in all, I feel he¡¯ll fill in one of the many gaps we have here¡­ Especially if he were to get further assistance.¡± Mr. Peabody reported. He and Maeve both stared at the dog. ¡°Yay!¡± Briar clapped, unbothered by any of this. ¡°With Mr. Peabody¡¯s approval and how many stories you managed to collect we can take you off of your probation period! And on your first day too!¡± Rather than responding to his boss he found himself asking, ¡°You¡­ you can talk?¡± Mr. Peabody gave him an amused look. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°This entire time?¡± He checked. ¡°Again, yes.¡± Mr. Peabody nodded. He took a deep breath. ¡°And you didn¡¯t tell me?¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t ask.¡± The dog grinned like a fox. ¡°Oh, yeah. That¡¯s on you.¡± Briar told him with a nod of her own. He took another deep breath before letting it out and deciding, (I¡¯m not dealing with this right now.) Instead he focused on what he could handle without wanting to set something on fire. ¡°Roisin here needs some help.¡± ¡°What kind of help?¡± Briar tilted her head, looking the Theater Rose over. ¡°Based on the stories you¡¯ve gathered I¡¯m aware it has something to do with the Crimson Court? But I don¡¯t know all the specifics.¡± ¡°You¡­ know of the court?¡± Maeve slowly asked. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. ¡°Just rumors here and there.¡± Briar admitted, before removing a book from the pile without tilting any of the dozen books on top of it. ¡°If I¡¯ve the right of it, they¡¯re a cross dimensional Court of Vampires. Their influence is limited to worlds that can¡¯t really fight them, while slowly bleeding everything dry. They¡¯ve multiple factions and worlds of influence, but are ultimately a minimal threat in the grand scale of things.¡± ¡°A minimal threat?¡± Maeve let out a bark of laughter. ¡°If you truly knew what the Court was capable of¡­¡± Briar gave the Theater Rose a soft sympathetic smile. ¡°If you knew what the Library was truly capable of, you''d know you¡¯re safe here.¡± That brought Maeve up short. ¡°W-what?¡± Rather than answering her, the head Librarian turned towards him and Mr. Peabody. ¡°That is what you two were asking, yes? That we offer her asylum from the Court?¡± ¡°Uh, yeah¡­¡± He nodded, Mr. Peabody doing the same shortly after. ¡°Then the question becomes whether she¡¯ll simply be a guest or¡­¡± Briar trailed off. ¡°Or?¡± Maeve prodded with an uncomfortable frown. ¡°I could offer you a position of Librarian similar to Peabody and Fischer.¡± Briar explained, elaborating that, ¡°Given how many stories Gregory collected and the fact that you probably helped with that more than Mr. Peabody. -Oh, don¡¯t look at me like that, I know you Herman.- You¡¯ve proven you can help here, and I could never turn away a fellow lover of Stories.¡± ¡°Lover of stories?¡± The Theater Rose repeated. ¡°What do you mean by that?¡± ¡°The theater has hundreds, thousands of stories, and you were a part of so many of them weren¡¯t you?¡± Briar grinned, reaching into the book in her hands and in a flutter of pages pulling out one of the theater posters that had lined the walls of Maeve¡¯s theater. ¡°How¡­ how do you have that?¡± Roisin asked, looking ill as she stared at it. ¡°It¡¯s part of the story ¡®Duel In The Theater¡¯ you and Fischer made.¡± Briar shrugged, before an odd gleam filled her eyes. ¡°And you know that Stories have power don¡¯t you?¡± A chill ran down his spine as the shadows around them twisted as if alive, Briar once more reminding him that she dabbled in something eldritch. Maeve swallowed, apparently feeling whatever he had with those words, before answering, ¡°The power to make one feel, to provoke their thoughts, to twist and change them in ways they may not even recognize¡­¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± Briar smiled, a little too widely as the book in her hand snapped shut. ¡°If you wish to join our little venture, then I will happily make you one of my Librarians.¡± ¡°And might I inquire what your goal is?¡± Maeve cautiously asked. ¡°Ultimately I mean?¡± ¡°To collect all the Stories and store them here in my Library.¡± Briar Black explained. Roisin considered that for a moment. ¡°And you can protect me from the Court?¡± ¡°The Court has no power within the Black Briar Library, but protecting you outside of it will take some work on both of our parts.¡± Briar confessed, with a bit of sheepish grin. ¡°What kind of work?¡± The Theater Rose frowned, clearly thinking this was all too good to be true. (And to be fair, it really is.) He thought even as he kept his mouth shut, because even if it did take some work, he felt Maeve had a right to hope. (Everyone should have hope¡­) ¡°For the most part you¡¯d be collecting Stories like Fischer, though¡­ if we ever open a Drama wing you might make an interesting candidate to work there with your theater experience.¡± Briar answered, offering more details than she¡¯d given him on his first day. (Then again I did get caught up on the magical theory rather than the actual job¡­) ¡°That seems¡­ acceptable.¡± Maeve admitted with some caution. ¡°Wonderful!¡± Briar cheered before spinning on her heels with a giggle. ¡°Ooh, three librarians and more than a dozen stories in one day! Oh, I¡¯m doing so much better than my siblings thought I would!¡± ¡°That¡¯s great.¡± He smiled, unable to help himself with how cheerful she was especially since she¡¯d managed to help Maeve as well. Briar paused as she looked his way before tilting her head. ¡°What about this little fella? What are you doing with him?¡± He grimaced, having almost forgotten he was still carrying Ferris. ¡°This is Ferris, his situation is¡­ complicated.¡± Briar slinked over, examining the child with a soft frown. ¡°He¡¯s one of The Lost Children¡­ You collected a story about them too¡­ An amalgamation of the ghosts of children who died in the carnival. A collection of young Deadmen always sleeping, dreaming, as the few half-awake try to play.¡± ¡°Y-yeah.¡± He nodded, really wondering how Briar had gotten so much information before he¡¯d made it back to the Library. (Is¡­ Is she spying on me with the Book?) He was going to have to seriously inspect the thing when he got home, a full magical once over. Shaking his head, he focused on the current problem. ¡°Due to his circumstances we can¡¯t just leave him out in the wild, so I was hoping you could do something to help him too.¡± Briar gave him a wry grin. ¡°You¡¯re asking for a lot of favors on your first day, mister.¡± He grimaced. ¡°I kn-¡± Briar booped his nose. ¡°You¡¯re lucky you got me so many Stories my Librarian.¡± Briar smiled, before waving a hand towards the stack and causing the five on top to explode in a storm of pages that began to swirl through the air. ¡°Otherwise I wouldn¡¯t be able to help both of them. Come along.¡± Briar started walking between the bookshelves, one of her hands in the air directing the hurricane of pages flying above their heads. His eyes briefly met Maeve¡¯s before both them and Mr. Peabody followed after the Head Librarian as she led them to a wall made of black wood barely visible in the shadows of the Library. The pages in the air began to descend flying into the wall and forming what looked like a massive paper door. When Briar¡¯s hands touched it the paper began to flutter away to reveal a proper door beneath it, one that easily gave way as she pushed it open. Paper pages blasted out from the room even as a pressure vacuum sucked everything else in with enough force that he could feel himself being pulled forward, his feet slipping against the ground in spite of his firm stance. (The hell?!) When all of this -thankfully- stopped he found the doors had opened to a large room with a floor covered in colorful puzzle pieces. All around were an assortment of toys and plastic mini-furniture scattered about, the walls lined with short bookshelves with thin colorful books that he could tell were meant for kids. In a corner of the room that was darker than the rest with giant teddy bears and small cots with a sign on the wall of a teddy bear with a nightcap and blanket. And in another was a large playscape full of colorful slides of all kinds, with twists and turns that made his eyes hurt to try and map them out. He was so distracted by all of this, he didn¡¯t even notice Briar walking up to him until she was taking Ferris from his arms. ¡°Come on little one, time to wake up.¡± Briar told the Lost Child as she tapped Ferris¡¯s nose. Ferris blinked, his eyes half-lidded and dazed as Briar set him on the ground. ¡°Where¡­?¡± ¡°This is the Library¡¯s brand new playroom!¡± Briar told the Lost Child, still crouched to meet Ferris¡¯s eyes. ¡°Here you can spend all day reading and playing games with all of your friends!¡± ¡°Play?¡± Ferris repeated, his eyes going wide. ¡°Yeppers!¡± Briar nodded. ¡°Though you¡¯ll have to call your friends to play with you.¡± ¡°Play?¡± A voice asked, causing Fischer to jump as he found another Ferris next to him. ¡°Play?¡± Another asked as more and more Lost Children crawled out from between and down from the various bookshelves as they slowly gathered around the entrance to the Playroom. Briar gave them one and all a smile before loudly proclaiming, ¡°Play!¡± ¡°Play!¡± The children cheered as they all ran into the play room. As they watched the Lost Children run around the room picking up and playing with the toys, or sliding down the playscape without any care for the monsters of the world, Briar made her way back over with a smile on her face as she adjusted her glasses. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know about you but this feels like a good ending to me.¡± Intermission: Opinions And Payments Intermission: Opinions And Payments --- Gregory Fischer --- He slowly drifted out of, perhaps not good dreams, but definitely nowhere near as bad as he¡¯d had in the past. As he sat up he couldn¡¯t help but wince at the faint pain across his body. The various aches and bruises he¡¯d picked up during the Crimson Carnival incident. Again, not a good thing but nowhere near as bad as he¡¯d had in the past. (Still going to be a bitch to hide from Toni though¡­) She was dreadfully perceptive and given how much effort he put into convincing her that his library work was nowhere near as dangerous as his normal ¡®work¡¯, this was something he didn¡¯t want her to notice. (Not until I¡¯ve got a bit more of my power back at least.) Otherwise she¡¯d tell him to quit right then and¡­ (I don¡¯t want to.) For all the ups and downs, psychological trauma, and near death experiences that he¡¯d happily never repeat¡­ But with the fact that he was able to actually help the kids and Maeve out of a fairly bad situation, (Well I¡¯d say it was all worth it.) No matter how he looked at it, even given how little time he¡¯d spent with the Library he was still feeling a lot better than he had in a long time. Ignoring the various bruises of course. A quick cold shower, while not exactly pleasant, helped with the aching enough that by the time he made it to the kitchen he was able to make a quick and easy sandwich. At which point with his morning taken care of he started downstairs and into Toni¡¯s workshop where his best friend was tinkering with something, a half empty cup of coffee on her desk. ¡°Morning.¡± Toni greeted him, not looking up from her work. ¡°Didn¡¯t see you come in yesterday.¡± ¡°Yeah, it was¡­ a mess of a day.¡± He admitted, knowing that he couldn¡¯t hide everything from her. (And I don¡¯t want to.) ¡°A lot more complicated than I thought it¡¯d be.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± Toni frowned. ¡°Oh, there was this kid who¡­ He was lost and we had to help him out.¡± He tried to explain without outright lying. ¡°Oh¡­¡± Toni grimaced. ¡°I, uh, I know how you are with kids¡­ Was everything alright?¡± He couldn¡¯t help but grimace back, his mind drifting towards (little bodies laying so very still). He shook his head, forcing those thoughts away before they could drag him down. ¡°Yeah. Eventually found his big sister, but¡­ I don¡¯t know, Ferris is a good kid and I didn¡¯t mind watching him but¡­ It¡¯s also not exactly something I know how to handle. Eventually just started distracting the kid with smoke tricks.¡± ¡°Of course you did.¡± Toni huffed, a faint grin to her face¡­ at least until it slowly faded. ¡°And were you saddled with the kid because you¡¯re new or because no one else¡­?¡± ¡°I was the one who found him.¡± He answered, knowing exactly what she was getting at. (Not everyone is nice to kids in this city¡­) ¡°Everyone at the library immediately jumped on helping him when they found him, but¡­ I found him and he sort of just¡­ stuck with me while I tried to figure things out I guess.¡± ¡°Good.¡± Toni nodded, looking relieved as she turned back to her work and started idly tinkering away. ¡°So¡­ who is ¡®everyone at the library¡¯? Any interesting co-workers?¡± ¡°Well there¡¯s the boss Briar Black, who I¡¯m pretty sure the whole thing is named after.¡± He shrugged. ¡°She¡¯s smart, scarily smart, and her magical theory absolutely blows mine out of the water. That said, she¡¯s a bit¡­ ditzy to more practical matters.¡± ¡°Meaning?¡± Toni prodded. ¡°I think she was kind of thrown at the job, like it was a family thing and they put her in charge without teaching her how to do everything. I don¡¯t know, she¡¯s good at what she does, but it also feels like there¡¯s a lot of things she doesn¡¯t know that feel like she should.¡± He tried to explain. ¡°Well, experience is something anyone can learn with time. And if you¡¯re not the only one there then that means she¡¯s not entirely helpless.¡± Toni pointed out, completely unaware of the fact that before him her only other employee was a dog. (A talking dog¡­) He was still annoyed at that. ¡°Peabody is someone I¡¯m not sure how to feel about. Briar insists that he¡¯s dependable and he did help me with my job, yeah, but he also left out several details that would¡¯ve made things easier. Feels like the asshole spent the whole day laughing at me or something.¡± Toni let out a small laugh. ¡°He¡¯s probably just hazing the new guy. And it can¡¯t be any worse than the hazings we got back in the day, I mean if even half the stories about you Smokers were true¡­¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± He couldn¡¯t argue that. ¡°but it doesn¡¯t make him any less of an asshole.¡± ¡°Fair enough.¡± Toni chuckled. ¡°Lastly, is the other new ¡®guy¡¯ or girl I guess. Maeve, she signed on just yesterday. Not entirely sure what to make of her.¡± He admitted, recalling how easily the two of them had gotten into a fight. ¡°Pretty sure we just got off on the wrong foot though, since she probably helped the most with Ferris.¡± ¡°Hmm.¡± Toni nodded noncommittally. ¡°She probably thought you got the job before her¡­ Which I guess you did? Or didn¡¯t?¡± ¡°Uh, yeah, Briar said something about her hiring us because she wants to expand the Library but¡­ Like I said, it sort of feels like she¡¯s just making it up as she goes.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Not the worst thing.¡± Toni told him. ¡°At least so long as she doesn¡¯t go bankrupt paying all of you.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ That¡¯s actually something I need to talk to her about.¡± He realized, remembering how Briar somehow didn¡¯t quite get the concept of money. ¡°No idea how that works¡­¡± Toni blinked before turning towards him. ¡°Oh, yeah¡­ I guess this is different from your usual half-upfront half-after thing, huh?¡± ¡°A bit.¡± --- Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. The Library when he got to it looked the same as it ever did, the atrium hall full of towering books all around and shadows that he was fully convinced were moving on their own. (Likely an ambient magic thing, a minor elemental not fully formed perhaps?) He wasn¡¯t actually sure how elementals formed, beyond Magic and Madness, but it was the option that scared him a lot less than remembering the smile in the sky. (Just remember this is Briar¡¯s Library and as long as you work for her you should be safe her.) A sigh escaped him. (Still on edge from the walk here¡­) He wondered what it said about him that a run through a carnival full of cannibal clowns stressed him less than a walk through city streets. (At least I made the trip only smoking half a pack¡­) While he hadn¡¯t really explored the library in full, he¡¯d seen enough to know that it was fairly massive. Which is why -barring a quick detour to check on Ferris who was in turn being watched over by Maeve- he simply stood on the black rose emblem in the center of the atrium. Pretty sure that if he just stood her long enough that- ¡°Did you need something Gregory?¡± Briar asked from beside him, where she hadn¡¯t been one blink prior. ¡°You know, Madness teleportation is kind of dull once you work out the trick.¡± He couldn¡¯t help but admit. ¡°Don¡¯t worry I¡¯ll mix it up some.¡± Briar smiled, eyes full of mischief before she tilted her head. ¡°But I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s not what you actually wanted?¡± ¡°Yeah, no.¡± He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°I wanted to bring up the whole ¡®pay¡¯ thing again, because while I don¡¯t really need it right now I am going to need it eventually.¡± ¡°Oh, right, yes!¡± Briar reached behind her back and pulled out a book. ¡°I think I figured that one out, here!¡± He gave his employer a look before accepting the book. (Really hoping she isn¡¯t planning on paying me in books¡­ Then again if she gets me something rare enough I might be able to make it work¡­) If he could find someone willing to buy them. ¡°Open it.¡± Briar told him, poking his side with -(wait, she¡¯s on the opposite side of me)- he looked the other way and found no one there. A glance back at his employer simply showed off her grinning face. ¡°Well?¡± Deciding to just ignore it, he took a look at the book cover before frowning as he read. (Gregory Fischer, The Man Who Burned¡­ Isn¡¯t that one of the things written in my current story?) ¡°Come on¡­ Open it¡­¡± Briar prodded, practically vibrating in place. Holding back a grimace, he cautiously raised the book away from him before opening it, half scared that it would explode into a hurricane of paper that dragged him off to relive a metaphor for some of the worst moments of his life. (Again¡­) Luckily, while there was a small explosion of book pages it was nowhere near the hurricane of paper that usually dragged him off. Instead, he was simply left holding a handful of pages that he quickly noticed were covered in eldritch script. ¡°What are these?¡± He blinked, adjusting his glasses as he read through the pages finding them to be basically copies of his (Basic) Chem Smokes and Parry abilities as well as a new somewhat familiar one called, (¡°Civvie Inhealant -Cost: 1 Fantasy or Science Fiction Page -Consumable -¡°While designed for the warfront, some Chem Smokes have made their way into the public sector for civilian use. If with a number of restrictions not found on the battlefield.¡± -Quick Read: Restore a small amount of health.¡±) While they weren¡¯t quite part of his kit like his various Chem Smokes, the fact that the painfully named Inhealants were a core part of any medkit. And given how many times the things had saved his life, he wasn¡¯t going to say no to being able to summon one -even a weaker one- on command. (If these work the same as my smokes at least.) ¡°They¡¯re more chapters for your story. Remember how I was telling you how I could offer you more magical abilities? This is part of that.¡± Briar explained. ¡°Uh-huh¡­ And the fact that I already have two of these three?¡± He frowned, not quite willing to put it past Briar to have missed something in her excitement to show off. ¡°Ooh, lucky draw!¡± Briar grinned, taking the pages from his hand before swiping at him and pulling out a matching set from where her fingers brushed his book. ¡°Draw?¡± He repeated, briefly checking his book to find both his Chem Smokes and his Parry missing from it. ¡°Did you take pages out of my book?¡± ¡°Only for a moment.¡± The mad librarian assured him. ¡°If you get two sets of the same story I can weave the overlapping magic together, and with just a touch of Madness turn them into a stronger version of themselves. Thus granting you more power when you read them.¡± He slowly nodded, following along. ¡°Alright, that all sounds good¡­ I¡¯m guessing there¡¯s a ritual element of some kind keeping you from just giving me a straight upgrade without¡­ whatever that book was about?¡± ¡°I could,¡± Briar admitted, with a mixed expression before adding, ¡°but it would also cost significantly more resources than a randomized book. Madness loves gambling and chance after all.¡± (Something to consider for later¡­) For now though. ¡°How does this upgrade thing work?¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s really straightforward, won¡¯t even take me a few minutes.¡± Briar answered as she began mixing and shuffling the pages about. ¡°That said, there is a touch of Madness to the equation, so you might not get these exact upgrades even if you were to mix these exact chapters again. Some of it having to do with the eyes upon your soul and what have you.¡± That sounded like something he wanted to avoid thinking about too hard for the time being. Which is why instead focused on the new stacks of pages -somehow smaller than the total pages she¡¯d mashed together- and found that they were flat upgrades over their previous contents. (¡°(Mild) Anima Blue -Cost: 1 Fantasy or Science Fiction Page -Consumable -¡°A branch of Chem Smokes that were designed to draw out the magical power of those who inhale it. Allowing even fresh recruits to perform the magic of experienced practitioners.¡± -Quick Read. Increase Power and Speed of the user until their next reading Turn. -Expert¡¯s Elaboration: If used by a Practitioner, Gain 1 Fantasy Page for the Reader¡¯s Turn. -Checkout Renewal Fee: 1 Fantasy or Sci-Fi Page.¡±) While the ¡®(Mild)¡¯ told him that this was probably one of the weaker variants of Anima Blue, the fact that it wasn¡¯t just the generic new recruit Basic Chem Smokes meant that this was a flat upgrade over what he¡¯d been working with. (And based on what this says¡­ I¡¯m guessing a ¡®Fantasy¡¯ page has something to do with magical output¡­) What it meant he wasn¡¯t sure, but he was sure it meant something. (Never really paid attention to the Cost thing either¡­) Putting those questions on the back burner for a bit, he moved onto what should be an upgrade to his Parry. (¡°Parry Arts -Cost: 1 Blank Page. -Defensive. -"To those who have truly mastered the art of the parry, there are few things they cannot deflect. Even the strike of the ephemeral finds itself being pushed to the wayside." -Reactive Read. Negate an incoming attack, even those beyond physical touch. -Checkout Renewal Fee: 1 Blank Page, for Scrappers and Infiltrators.¡±) He¡­ wasn¡¯t quite sure what it meant by ¡®even those beyond physical touch¡¯ but (if I had to guess, maybe it means deflecting things other than physical blows? Like whenever I use my pyromancy to deflect incoming fire, or that time I disrupted an air blast via heat convection?) ¡°Interesting¡­¡± (I¡¯ll have to experiment to figure it out.) And practical experiments were his favorite kind. Briar preened at his comment. Unfortunately for her no matter how interesting these were¡­ ¡°You do know this still isn¡¯t the same as giving me actual money. Which I need to survive in society, right?¡± His boss winced. ¡°Um¡­ Do you really need to survive in society? I mean, can¡¯t you just be a¡­ library hermit? We can make our society of bookworms with books as our money!¡± ¡°Briar¡­ No.¡± ¡°Aww¡­¡±