Chương 75: A World of Drama III

The chimeric Custodian Pauline swaggered right up next to me, her powerful, scaled arms soon finding me in a sideways, buddy-buddy embrace.

"Friend! So glad you could make it, friend-o. Friend-o-rifficus Rex. Have I mentioned how I invited you, personally, to attend to my earth-ly, woman-ly needs?" Her grin and grip strength was the kind that only allowed her subjects to make a bobblehead impression while in her grip. Which I was. Aaah! Who are you, WHY are you — no, wait, One Moment. There's a Custodian at the Verdant Court. Of course The Society has someone on the inside of the fae realm.

We're at peace with faeworld, and peaceful countries need an ambassador to allow for nonviolent and direct communication. You can't talk war and peace when your counterpart is on a different planet. At least, I don't think you can. This woman is here to save me. Maybe she's here to save my opponent from Silica. In all fairness, my choice for second's in a duel were between the executioner, er, peacebringer, and Parsnip. And Silica at least appears to know how to hold back.

The little baron, who had been doing so well doing the best impression of a red-then-purple chameleon, finally exploded onto the woman.

"W-who are you, you scaled, inconsiderate, bloated tramp—" Pauline curled a paw and flicked his forehead from ten feet away. The irate fae shot backwards as if launched from a sling, the large main double doors opening quickly to see him removed from the premises with minimal collateral damage and a Looney-Tunes scream quickly growing quieter. A hubbub that ran through the crowd as a wave, like they had just finished watching the ads before a movie and were excited that the real show was just starting.

The chimeric woman blew her extended middle finger and waved. Then she turned sharply to the haughty fae.

"What are you waving that ego-extender around for?"

"I, err, there was a duel…"

"With my honorable second," I chimed in.

"Oh, the peacebringer? Carry on then."

"... I forfeit." Finally, Pauline zeroed in on the middle fae. She blew him a kiss.

"See you around, Tibbs."

"My… my name is…!" Okay, if Silica can make someone drop a duel-level issue through simply existing, I don't want to know what she is actually capable of. Actually, now I'm kind of curious. One Moment, please! Time to weigh the pros and cons of challenging her to a friendly duel… While part of me was busy following that line of thought, another part noticed that the room was parting around us as Pauline led us away from the ball. A pair of artfully carved doors opened and slammed shut, and then another.

By the fourth pair we were finally in a room that was empty, but for a comfy leather sofa in front of a roaring fireplace, replete with side tables already stocked with drinks and cigars. The doors slammed shut behind us, and I noticed a face rising from the flames with a jagged grin.

"Intruders of the seventh smoking room, hear my challenge! Answer me these riddles three—" Pauline kicked a metal shutter, which fell to block the fire from view. It complained, but all anyone could hear were muffled sounds. We couldn't answer a riddle if we couldn't hear anyone finish posing it. A practical solution, one that completed my image of this woman in my mind as a badass.

"So," she said after flopping down lazily on one of the sofas.

"Who and what are you four supposed to be?"

"Custodian Samantha, Level 49."

"I am an insect!" Parsnip clacked happily.

"... okay. Spanish bugs. Whack." Silica just stood at the door where she'd be able to run within seconds.

"I-I, a-a-am…"

"House Va'Íxlmxlpo, right?" Pauline gave her a cursory glance, receiving the barest of nods in return.

"Relax. I don't care for your social-climber parents, and I don't bite, especially not someone called a peacebringer. I'm a law-abiding citizen. All the laws. Which includes protecting citizens of Earth. Even if they are practically tossing themselves into an enclosure of alligators. Metaphorically speaking." Her gaze roamed over to me. I cleared my throat.

"Thanks for the rescue." She waved me off.

"Eh, happy to help. I love making Tibbs all flustered like that. He doesn't have the rugged charm of the duke of Pfloom, who yearns for moments of passion after the passing of his wife, nor the animalistic fervor of General Hotznplotz, hidden behind a mask of appearing more civilized than his crimson court counterparts. But I can't help myself; he's a cute twink, isn't he?"

"What?" Silica and I said.

"What's a twink?" Parsnip asked.

"Okay, so basically there's this concept of masculine men and feminine women, but also the reverse concept of feminine men and masculine women, the most popular examples of which are twinks and tomboys, though twink implies the man is gay while tomboys…" While the ambassador to Earth explained the concept of effeminate men to Parsnip, interjected by the most innocent of questions, I beckoned Silica over to my side before whispering into her ear.

"Who is this person?"

"T-the, err, honorable madame Pauline is a known t-terror within the court," Silica whispered back.

"Treat her like a h-hurricane, or a vicious w-wild animal."

"I don't know if this is good or bad for us," I whispered.

"We made a bit of a commotion when all we wanted was books."

"I-I'm not up to date with court gossip, b-but as long as she d-doesn't rope us in on her shenanigans, we should be safe. Safer than in the b-ballroom." I nodded, returning my attention just as the other conversation seemed to be concluding as well. Parsnip, arms crossed, nodded wisely.

"I understand. Male human-people are traditionally expected to be in this 'dom' position, yet when outwardly showing 'sub' position traits, it introduces a level of uncertainty. Attraction to twinks emerges from that space between expectation and subversion of tradition. Truly, you are wise beyond your years, Madame Pauline."

"Aww, look at this little spawn of Asvex. In all my years I have never encountered a bioweapon so adorable." She pinched a pincer and wiggled it, much to Parsnip's annoyance. I cleared my throat.

"I, uh, setting whatever that was about aside, I didn't know we had an ambassador to the fae, nor that they practiced diplomatic immunity." Pauline turned to me.

"They don't. The crimson court sends their diplomatic responses carved on the messenger's skull. The verdant court collects people much less capable than me as trophies. I'm here because they can't make me leave or stay unless I want to."

"Which means you have an insane spread of stats. High Mind levels to protect against mental attacks, high Body levels to be threatening in a duel. Probably over seven hundred in either, maybe close to a thousand with one?" I hummed, clasping my chin.

"But that doesn't help against verbal fae magic. Which means you've either got a passive skill to counteract that, or you are really, really careful. And given your performance, I assume the former."

"Ah, a sharp one." Pauline grabbed a whisky and the biggest glass available, pouring herself a drink, talking to me while mentally texting at the same time. <<It's an active skill, triggered by a separate skill prepared in advance. >>"Glad to see our academies are still producing fine Custodian stock with the capability for critical thought."

"Oh, uh, yeah, that's me, critical overthinker." I blinked. <<You also have [Trigger]? >>"Nonsense. You appear so confident in that villainess getup." She yawned. <<Yep. Your friends, can they be trusted? >>"Believe it or not, it's the first time I'm wearing all this," I said. <<Parsnip, the mantis girl, is a good friend, and not part of any relevant faction. She's with me on a sort of cultural exchange slash self discovery trip. Silica… well, I met her a few days ago, but she seems nice.

>> She smirked and offered me a fist.

"I knew I liked you the moment you decided to dance your way through the court, girl. You're safe from any solicitors and would-be challengers in here. So, spit, how the heck did you end up in the capital of Seven Green Groves?"

"Flew in from The Cauldron. On a bird." She stared at me.

"It was a very big bird."

"I… wow. And I thought dancing naked in a fairy ring was a weird mode of transportation."

"... you can do that?"

"Eh, the fae that visited earth in the Pre-Roman age left behind some easy-access backend portals, portals which the witch covens and wizard families ruthlessly neutralized over centuries. Ninety-nine percent of those don't work anymore. I spent a lot of time embarrassing myself in front of squirrels before it finally worked. Not that there was much to see since I'm mostly lizard."

She stretched languidly on the couch, generous curves playing a tune that had every girl in the room staring straight at her, or anywhere but her. She knew what she was doing. That grin said she enjoyed the attention.

"Or is there?" I cleared my throat and tried to fight the blush off of my face.

"S-so, setting aside all the gossip I very much don't have time for, can you help us get to the royal library?"

"Why, so you can find some secret magic they've been hiding?" Pauline took a big sip of her drink.

"Believe me, nothing you could learn would help you when you get back to earth. Power for the fae comes from land ownership, and the words of the people that were born on it. There's not enough magic on earth to support the sort of crowd-funded, pseudo-feudal powersharing they've got here. Mark my words, as long as the only places the system works in is London, Madagascar, and Chongqing, we shouldn't even bother trying to replicate the sort of trinkets they make to dry their hair."

"I mean, the system can teleport stuff everywhere we've put up infrastructure for it," I said.

"Not just those three cities."

"Really? Since when?" [Global coverage of Earth was completed in late 2021. You are currently approximately 1. 60832e^17 km away from the nearest system node.] I stared at the number for a brief second before shaking my head.

"Eighteen years ago, roughly." Pauline appeared comically dumbfounded. She scratched the lion's mane on the back of her neck.

"Huh. Guess I've been here longer than I expected. The monthly data packets I get are dreadfully work-focused."

"I'm not looking for any secrets really. Just want to know how to talk to birds." The amber liquid in her glass swished for a moment.

"Birds? Are you sure you want that?"

"I sorta need it to get back. Our giant Metal Heron doesn't fly unless I give her a good reason to. If I can talk, I can negotiate, and negotiation is the basis of friendship." Pauline swished her drink a while longer. Then she knocked it back in one go and swung to her legs, interestingly by using her tail as a lever to whip herself into an upright position.

"Alright. That's fine with me. I'll get you a meeting with the big boss and he'll grant you temporary access to the library. Probably."

"You're talking about Oberon," I said, remembering the lessons I'd taken in Cultures of the Worlds.

"Can we, uh, please just get to the library? I don't want to offend a-a… how many people live in this country?"

"Couple billion. No worries, girl, I'm level 99, I can take a bit of pushback from a demigod. He finds it endearing." She waved me off, as if it was no biggie.

"Besides, he's a total pushover when it comes to his mistresses."

"Oh, I see." A short pause. Blink.

"You're banging King Oberon?"

"For diplomatic reasons. His wife hates me for it, or maybe she just enjoys playing the part, I can never tell once things get heated." She smirked. <<You know what they say: divide and conquer. And this lady does a lot of conquering. >> Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. +++ I was expecting a lot more from King Oberon. A twelve foot giant maybe. Large branching horns and piercing eyes, perhaps.

Something nature-themed, like flowers growing from his hair or a swarm of songbirds carrying his cloak wherever he walked. Instead, I got a fat twelve-foot christmas elf slouching on a throne, his crown of woven twigs sadly drooping off his head. A swarm of pixies were attending to his needs, stirring drinks, massaging his scalp, feeding grapes which he barely accepted with a twitch of his lips. He looked so unhappy. <<Ah, he's in one of his slob moods, >> Pauline texted me. <<What does that mean?

>> <<Involuntary shapeshifter. Changes depending on his emotions. >> <<Ah. >> She brushed herself down, having changed from a formal dress into a rather more casual one, and approached the King's throne with quick hops up the steps.

"Oh Berry. Have you missed your dearest Pauli-poo? What's the hold up, why aren't you overseeing the ballroom?" King Oberon barely raised his head in acknowledgement." Oh. It's you." The air rippled. I could feel the power in those simple words, affirming her place, her existence, not just in general, but right here and right now. I'd expected her not to be able to move.

And yet at the same time, the air visibly rippled around Pauline, dispersing power, letting it droop off of her like raindrops off of an orchid's leaves. She clapped her hands together without sound, and the invisible barrier around her fizzed out. Sound manipulation? Of course, her title is Discordant Noise.

The fae magic can't reach her if she can't hear it. She seemed unperturbed as she casually sat onto the chair next to his and leaned over to grab his arm to her bosom.

"It is! Do you remember when we went pike-fishing in the river, pants folded up past our knees, and Tee-Tee slipped and fell in a cold stream?" His eyebrow twitched.

"Yes… I do remember."

"If the endless balls bore you, why not go on a tour of your lands? Come, lets have some fun like we're young again." Pauline had an arm looped through his and was making the world's most practiced pouty face. As the words left her mouth, something changed in the king's bearing. His cheeks flattened out, and his belly button stopped poking out from under his suit. He seemed to grow slender, as slender as a giant fae could, less slobbish, more mannish and probably handsome.

"I… I think… yes. Absolutely fabulous. I can imagine it already: The hunts, the grime, the faces on the members of my harem as we play newfangled games such as 'spin the bottle'—""You will do no such thing, husband." A string of leaves fell from the ever ubiquitous decorations all around, first forming into a tall pile, then resolving into a woman with skin like marbled oak and eyes like a hawk. Pauline's saccharine face turned calculating. <<Titania. Wife. Stick up her ass. Don't annoy her.

>> Thanks for the heads-up, I guess. Titania's stare was measured and dismissive.

"You haven't even complimented my dress, darling." Oberon practically, literally wilted.

"I… it looks dashing, dearest. But it would look even more dashing with—""It doesn't count now that I've pointed it out. And it would look better with what? Loam? Boar blood? Bugs?"

"I'm a bug!" Parsnip said, raising her hand excitedly." Silence!

"both of them yelled." One more word in this court and your tongue will fly." It was as if someone had pressed a mute button on her. Every sound Parsnip made, from talking to breathing to the near imperceptible movement of joints was gone. She railed. She screamed. She accepted her fate with a huff.

"What difference does it make? There are bugs here and bugs out there. And certainly, watching your courtiers deal with the outside world after two decades of decadent partying can only be amusing."

"Some must indeed relearn their places," Titania muttered.

"And doling out rewards for games would allow us to stir the pot and make a show of our presence to our people, and those crimson cunts."

"We could organize a boar hunt," Pauline said, happy to deflect.

"Or a manhunt." Titania's eyes flitted over to us with a growing smile.

"We seem to have volunteers for being prey already. And what better way to celebrate the return of our long-lost son. Oh, prince Rçidjan'pipin'tiski!" A small pixie floated in, adorned with all manner of jewelry and stuffed in a neatly tailored, close-fitting vest. His gaze wandered over us with imperial indifference while my jaw was busy scraping the floor. RICO IS A PRINCE!? Wait, he said he was a crimson fae, not a verdant one. Unless…

Rico was infiltrating the crimson fae, trying to prevent a war between the worlds. It would've blown up his home town otherwise. Not the lords, but the people. I knew he was a sweet fairy at heart.

"Mother, shall we start with the manhunt right now?" he asked, floating down towards us as his mother nodded with all the smugness of the world. Or not. Crap. Right, we're guests of Pauline, which means we're on Titania's shitlist by association. I'm probably on there regardless since I'm a Custodian. Ah, crap, are we going to have to punch our way out of this one? Rico, with a snobbishly raised chin, tapped Silica, the muted Parsnip, and me on the shoulder.

"There. I have caught the targets, and the hunt is over, no?"

"I, err," Titania's wooden brow creased in confusion.

"I suppose. A tad boring, but it is not my fault they'd rather stare goggle-eyed than run away from their hunter. Their lives are yours, by ancient law."

"Cool," Rico said." I give them back, for saving mine and bringing me back home." The silence that followed could have spanned continents. Slowly, I peered around. No sign of any fae-debt on me or anyone. Silica was shivering in boots while Parsnip looked like she was trying out every rude word I'd asked her not to say out loud while nobody could hear her.

"But… why?" Titania asked.

"Pretty simple." Rico landed on my head.

"They're my friends."

"Friends?"

"It is like companions with benefits," Oberon whispered.

"But without the benefits. Or the leash." The frown on her face only deepened.

"And what is your plan with these so-called 'friends'?"

"I dunno." He shrugged.

"Probably follow them around. Laugh at them when they trip. Play some pranks. Steal their candy and milk. They've got great candy over on Earth."

"A true pixie at heart, like his father," Oberon said with a laugh, a laugh that quickly died as he met his wife's withering stare. Pauline was busy biting her tongue, as confused as the rest of the royals about this turn of events.

"You should visit again, they didn't even have iron tools the last time you swooped by," Rico noted, which gave Oberon and Titania a ponderous look, while Pauline was frantically cutting at her neck in an 'abort, abort' sort of fashion.

"Well as long as they listen to your every word and treat you like the regal figure you are." Titania was massaging her forehead. She flicked her index imperiously, pointing straight at me.

"You, spider thing. You appear moderately capable of understanding what I'm saying. You have done my son a service, and though he has generously evened the odds, one cannot leave this court without a debt of favor. What do you desire, speak?"

"... I just want to talk to birds. In their language, preferably." Titania and Oberon both looked perplexed.

"Why? It is a terrible language to learn, and birds have nothing much insightful to say. Feh, so it shall be. Go on then, out of my sight." We stepped out of the throne room, all taking a deep breath.

"Fuck! Shit! Ass! Hey, I can talk again," Parsnip said. In the next moment I grabbed Rico in the biggest hug a lil guy like him could survive.

"Rico! You saved our butts!"

"Ack, air!" He struggled free, brushed himself down.

"I said I'd repay you."

"I mean, yeah. But the debt between us was already more than paid for. How'd you counter Titania's claim on our lives?"

"Easy. Titania declared a manhunt. None of you are men. Hence, the manhunt didn't apply. I pretended to catch you, then lied through my teeth until she called it off."

"Rico," a small tear escaped my eyes.

"I always knew you had the heart of a true magical girl."

"What? No, my honor as a royal was at stake, of course I had to pay you back. But… I did enjoy our time together, more than playing dressup-doll-slash-spy for my mother. Now, let's never talk about what we saw in there to anyone, ever."

"My whole view of our government has been thrashed," Silica said in an even tone.

"I feel like…"

"Like a throwaway side character intruding on someone else's soap opera for a day?"

"I only know half of those words." She paused.

"But I will agree with you because you are a good judge of character."

"I was rather intrigued," Parsnip said.

"I have never encountered a courtship ritual between a spike-tooth and… whatever that woman was. Can I really not observe them?"

"Absolutely not," I said.

"You're too young for that."

"I am a third the way through my expected lifespan!" The three-year-old bug person said proudly.

"I… ugh, I don't know how to even start handling that. Let's just get the bird language and then get going." The library was situated in a tower on the peak of a stone stack only reachable by bridge. We passed a sign with crossed-out pixies, ensuring that this place remained what was in effect a kid-free zone. The head librarian gave us an odd look as we strutted up to her.

"I wish to learn the language of birds," I said.

"Have you prepared a suitable sacrifice?" She adjusted her artsy-looking glasses.

"One moment." I leaned back and whispered to Rico… prince Rico in my backpack.

"Is that a normal thing to ask?

"Far as I know, yeah. Just give her some language you learned in school; I hear all humans learn at least two." Yeah, but usually that second language is English. I learned English and… crap, I really should have taken that Spanish course in seventh grade. Gosh, I hope dead languages count.

"I will trade you the ancient language of Latin," I said.

"The roman or the ecclesiastical variety?" the librarian asked.

"I, er… modern latin?"

"It was a trick question. We already have a repository for various human languages, including the many types of latin, and french. They are worthless to us."

"Oh. Um." Think Samantha, think!

"Do you know pig latin?"

"A latin of the common swine?" She bit her sharp tongue between sharper teeth as she leafed through some sort of floating book.

"I believe you would be the first to donate that knowledge. Assuming you have a full account of the language." If there could be one thing said about pig latin, it was that it had few rules and was easy to learn. It was a secret language made for kids after all. Becca and Clem both learned it because I was relentless and annoying about it. That and probably because Becca was starting to realize at the time that she wanted to be more than friends. Becca. Clem. Addy. I'm coming to see you all again soon, I swear.

And when I do, I'll come equipped with something better than pig latin. I'll have birds. I'll have friends. And what's more, I'll have a plan for using the Free Poker League… to launch a Custodian magical girl franchise! Muhahaha! Bow before my evil plans for saving the world with love and style! The exchange of languages followed a small ritual, the details of which I promptly forgot. If I wanted to know how ritual language exchanges worked, I had to pay extra.

When we left the library, the first thing I was met with was a sonorous, beautiful voice of someone born to sing their heart out.

"I wanna BANG. Doo-do-do." There was a tit sitting on a nearby branch. I waved at it, rather, him, since with most bird species, males were the ones doing the mating calls while the women went windowshopping for the right shade of hunk. I leaned over at the tit.

"Uh. Hi. I bet you do." The bird seemed shocked.

"Big wordperson big danger BIG BIG!" Suddenly, a small flock of birds settled on nearby trees growing out of craggy rock.

"Danger? Big Danger?" one sung.

"Hungry. Danger?" crowed another in a perfect baritone.

"Big Big Big." I stared at them, waving hands frozen in mid air.

"I may have committed a grave and irreversible error."

"I d-disagree" Silica countered.

"You have done yourself a great service. You are… honorable. It is a pleasant change of pace from normal courtier b-behavior. My only regret is that I couldn't be of as much help a-as I promised." We spied Small, Slim, and the thoughtful twink on the way out. They were carousing near the main entrance to the castle, which was to say away from anyone who could embarrass them any further. I recognized that stare from Silica much too late as the same type Addy gave when she found an Ur-mimic walking across the road.

"Gentlemen," she said, walking up to them and pulling out her oversized lance.

"We have yet to finish our duel." +++ Within a day we were back at Silica's place. She had disappeared into her house after I declared that I was going to try and communicate with the bird. Parsnip was having fun chasing around animals while Rico tried to recreate the sweetness of earth's sweets by dunking an entire raspberry into a tablespoon of honey.

"It's not the same," he muttered over and over again, trying different types of honey. Addicted to refined sugar, are you? Welcome to the club. I walked up to Mama-Bird. She had already made a small nest from the nearby trees, branches, and some shingles from Silica's roof. If Silica wanted to force her away with fae magic, she probably could at this point. Property damage was taken as seriously as damage to one's own person in this land.

"Hey, Mama-Bird." The giant heron perked up. She leaned down, squinting at me.

"Biter-Eater." Her voice was melodious, a smooth, gentle song backed by the power of fuck-you levels of magic.

"Dirty. You require cleaning, daughter."

"I… oh." Daughter. She really just went ahead and adopted me as thanks for saving her children. Even flying away wouldn't have cleaned those ticks and mites from their ear canals.

"That's, uh, quite generous of you. Thank you."

"No thanks. Daughter. Rely on me."

"I sorta was going to anyways." I scratched the side of my head.

"Say, can we leave this place? We are causing some issues for the locals — for friends. I wouldn't want to see two of my friends fighting. If at all possible, could you consider making a nest on my home earth?" She seemed confused.

"Home. Home, but… not nest?"

"I am a traveler. I come from far places, and wish to return."

"Traveler. Ah." She seemed to understand the concept, even while she was busy nudging my arms and brushing my hair with her beak.

"Travel, yes. Many places, warm and cold. Children showing feathers. Children need heat for hardening."

"That's totally fine, we've got lots of warm and cold places on Eeaaa—" She unfurled her protective shield of metal feathers, revealing her now much more fuzzy chicks. They were yellow, the color of happiness and joy. And of the Xanthous Queen in Beige. From their plumage, a voice boomed like an ancient mesopotamian god.

"You wish to leave these lands, trespasser. You wish to steal from it, purloiner. A wound for a wound, a theft for a theft."

"An arm for an arm?" I hedged.

"I shall take two." In a moment of agony, two of my arms disappeared, my body shrinking down a bit as even the shoulder joints disappeared, as if I'd only ever had six. Within moments, Rico and Silica were at my side. I raised a hand to stop them in their tracks.

"I-I'm fine. Eight is a healthier number than ten, where spider limbs are concerned." Counting only my arms, I had six left. Five normal ones, and one robotic Sin.

"Oh, hey Silica. Whatcha doing here?"

"P-providing aid to a-a… friend?" I blinked.

"And those clothes?" She wasn't wearing armor. Instead there was half buttoned-up blouse with puffy arms, tight-fitting pants, and boots. She looked a bit like a swashbuckler.

"Wandering shoes, incognito getup."

"You're leaving home?"

"For a w-while. I have y-yet to fulfill m-my side of the b-bargain."

"Oh no, girl, don't feel pressured. You did fine." Whatever lingering fae magic that hung between us faded away. Her face took on a frowny pout.

"Then I shall accompany you as part of my vacation. It shall be the first time in seven years of service. I am sure the bureau of peace will find a replacement for me." I blinked at her again.

"You've never taken a vacation?"

"No. I-I thought it would be fun with y-you around." There was a distant crash, followed by the cackling buzz of a bug.

"A-and the insect named after a t-t-tuber."

"Alright then." I spread my arms and pounced her in a big friendly hug.

"Welcome aboard." She made a sound like a tea kettle again. By the end of the day, Mama-Bird was rested, fed, and ready to take flight once again. I fastened her children to her back with my Web Gun, using various proteins — mostly beans — to refill its supply. When I had strapped Parsnip, Silica, and myself in, I gave Mama-Bird the go ahead.

"Do birds have a birdsong for when it's time to fly or do you just… do it without fanfare?"

"We fly," she responded while flapping her wings. And that was that. Truth is, I downloaded some of Pauline's stash of digital goods in between talking in the smoke room and meeting King Oberon. It was mostly a bunch of romantasy books full of cliches and hidden lovers, but there was some music too. As we flew towards the sunset, I couldn't help but hum some to myself. Somewhere, Over the Rainbow felt fitting to the moment. +++ Wind. It was always wind.

The interdimensional heron known as Mama-Bird had problems with winds exceeding two hundred mph. The upkeep to her own windmagic increased to the point of exhausting her in minutes, forcing us to land on a sweltering, sulfurous planet until the storm passed. The planet wasn't uninhabited, judging by the furrows of carts dug into muddy roads leading between the evergreen-sized glowing mushrooms. Some of the mushrooms had windows carved into them, others doors.

They were a bit big for a pixie, but just the right size for a gnome.

"God, this place reeks," I muttered.

"That's pretty rude of you." I shrieked, jumping as one of the towering mushrooms moved. It wasn't a mushroom, but a giant furred creature with tiny eyes and sharp fangs. Mushrooms grew out of its mane, and its twiggy wings were sown with mildew. It was wearing a wide-brimmed farmer's hat, a trowel in one hand, a hoe in the other. It was a giant bat person thing. He clicked his tongue while I slowly backed away and… wait a second. Something about him seemed familiar. I squinted at him.

"Al? Alkrak'rlg-Benq, from Cultures of the Worlds?" He squinted back at me. <<How in The Fun Place do you know my little brother? >>