Marked Chapter Twenty-Two (Patreon)

As Naxylotriam retrieves me from Eranil Thumblethumper something or other... from his teaching tent, I'm suddenly reminded that I haven't eaten since breakfast. "So... how long before I disappear?" I ask. 

"The magic used to anchor you here past your initial manifestation is still imprecisely calculated. As I said, I do not know for certain when you will depart, and it is diminutively unlikely but not impossible that you may remain here." 

It occurs to me as she says this that, in fact, the only thing I REALLY would miss from home is the internet. "I don't really want to be stranded here," I begin, "but I'm grateful for all you've done for me. I know it won't last the whole time I'm gone, but I want to leave you with a mansion before I go." 

"Would you?" Nax asks, looking more than a little pleased. "I would like to entertain, so scaling it down for human habitation is fine. And what you did with the dragonshards was quite nice, but keep it to small, centralized displays to draw the eye; it loses its effect when it is everywhere, you see."

I nod, taking mental note of this. "I'll keep that in mind." Ahead is the Hidden Lodge I set up for us when we arrived; I activate Magnificent Mansion inside it keyed only to Nax and myself. Wait, she said she's planning on entertaining. Change of parameters: Nax, myself, and whoever she brings in here. Done. "Okay, I've got the Mansion set up for us-"

"Titania!" I turn to see Eranil jogging to catch up to us; he's looking a bit rosy around the cheeks as he does. We slow to a stop a few feet from the door to the Hidden Lodge, and let him catch up. "I want you to be able to recite the seven principles and their applications to the fireball spell by heart by our next tutoring session! I trust you have taken notes enough to study?" 

"Alright, I can do that," I reply, patting my haversack. "I have plenty of notes. I'll have it memorized." Although, honestly, not particularly thrilled with the notion of throwing around fire. It strikes me as the sort of ability that, if it went wrong, could go [I]really[/I] wrong, without a commensurate 'really right' on the other side of the equation. It's not a power I can see most people ever actually using. I'm guessing that it's part of a standardized curriculum they use here or something. Like a carrot to dangle in front of the students to keep the boys' minds from wandering. 

It's probably not that much fire, though, if he's using it as part of his day one teaching, because what kind of teacher would be giving out instructions for a rocket launcher on the first day of class? I bet it's probably like a grapefruit sized ball of fire-- which is still potentially pretty dangerous, honestly. But not significantly moreso than the trouble someone could get into in high school chemistry. Okay, looked at in that light, I guess it makes sense. 

"I'm glad to hear it," Eranil responds. "We're at a disadvantage with you in that we have a vastly truncated teaching schedule, so I want you studying with fervor while you're away. Even missing a day of study can set you back in the early days of your training. Also, you are not to attempt to reproduce anything I teach you outside of my presence until such time as I decide you are ready. Lady Nella would be sorely angry with both of us if you burned down her home in the attempt, and misuse or carelessness of magic can easily kill you. Wizards are rare not because students are rare, but because graduates are. Do you understand me?"

I nod. "Treat it like I'm dealing with chemistry lab class. Got it."

He gets an odd expression on his face, and nods. "Precisely. I...uh..."

Nax first looks at him, then at me curiously, before understanding comes over her. "Ah. Yes, you're beginning to fade, Taylor."

I look at myself, frowning. "I am? I don't see anything different."

"Fade? Wait, is she a summoned creature?" Eranil demands, turning to glare at Nax with his hands on his hips. "Lady Nella, at no point did you inform-"

---

I awaken to darkness. 

I wipe my runny nose, feeling a headache, an itching, burning in my left elbow, plus aches and pains in my legs and feet. A fast check tells me that my powers are recharged, and there's something else there, something new. I roll over the front of the couch, getting my complaining legs under me, and totter unsteadily across the room in the direction of the hallway, my destination the church bathroom. Aside from needing to pee, I want to wash off the grit and dirt from the road. 

I take care of the usual necessities, yawning as I try to shake the sleep off in the dark, where I learn that I'm still wearing my clothes from over there. I'm not sure how long it'll be until they disappear; I don't actually know how long I was being a student in magic class because honestly, it was absurdly engrossing. 

When I finish on the toilet, I wash my hands, barely able to make out the shape of myself in the mirror, but really not wanting to experience the eye stabbing brightness of the light right now. I turn, and promptly almost fall on my butt as my foot skids in something. "What the-" 

Okay, I suppose I need to turn on the lights after all. I squinch my eyes shut, reach for the light, and turn it on. For a few seconds the brightness is absolute hell; I wobble, trying to open my eyes a little at a time, and yes, there's that eye stabbing brightness I was trying to avoid. But after a few seconds, my eyes adjust enough for me to see the muddy footprints on the bathroom floor, including the one I slipped on. Oh no. I've tracked mud not just in the bathroom, but probably all over the Sunday School room and couch. Manifest Minion, go!

"Clean up indoors of all the mud and water on the floor and furniture," I order. 

I lift a foot; the mud on my boots drips to the floor with a wet splat. "... And clean my clothes, too. Wait, cancel that. This is dumb." I think about the mansion I made for Nax so she could entertain; I never even got to look inside it. I know it turns out exactly the way I imagine it, but I don't want to make a mistake, and I feel like being pampered. So I focus-- make the exact same one I made last time. 

The door opens on the wall; I make it invisible and keyed only to me before I step through it. 

The dragonshard formations are much more subdued, now. Fleur de Lis of Eberron shards surrounding single Syberis shards, hex patterned Eberron shards with Khyber crystals all embedded in clear epoxy over glossy white marble. Light fixtures shedding soft, pervasive glows across the fountain in the foyer, upper level doors leading to individual rooms. 

I wave over one of the mansion minions, pulling off my outer layers of clothing. "Please have these cleaned," I request. 

The rooms are all up the stairs; it's a nod to a sort of extravagence that at the time seemed impressive enough, but right now I'm a little too sore and tired to be walking up those stairs, so I add a room on the ground level complete with a bath and a door connecting directly to the kitchen. I haven't eaten since this morning-- which morning? The Eberron morning-- and I want a bath and a massage. But I want food before either. 

Another liveried mansion minion is waiting inside the room when I open the door. "I want a bath drawn up, and a full dinner laid out, please," I say. The servitor turns and heads for the bathroom. Moments later, the kitchen door opens, and two more of the spectral staff are carrying in covered trays. I'm almost giddy with anticipation. The first tray is uncovered, and reveals slices of some green gourd vegetable covered with shreds of orange and purple, presumably root, vegetables, drizzled over with a red sauce that turns out to be a tart and sweet sauce similar to raspberry. As I start on that, the second tray is revealed, which are little skewers of something that reminds me of charbroiled chicken, but a bit gamier. This doesn't really taste like Earth food, but I suppose it makes sense since I made this a copy of the mansion I made for Nax before I poofed. It stands to reason that it would have their kind of food. Although... I haven't actually HAD their food. I'm only sure it's theirs since it isn't quite like what I'm familiar with. Of course, at this point I'm ready to just shrug it off and say 'magic' and in all honesty I kind of like the idea of getting to try new stuff. 

By the time the two plates are emptied-- it doesn't take long, because the portions are pretty small-- a small cup of clear soup with what looks like pepper but tastes like mushroom ground up into it, with a small slice of toasted, grainy bread on a cloth napkin next to it. The broth has a kind of nutty, barely salted taste to it, hard to identify but rather mild. After not seeing any butter or anything to put on the bread, I realize that it's one of those soup crouton breads, and I set it in the bowl, watching it soak up the broth and soften. The bread has a bare hint of wheat to it along with something stronger, but the broth makes it all but fall apart despite the toasting. 

And on it goes. There's a salad of some kind, and a weird pastry thing that has what I think is a sweet potato and sweet purple onion in it, then a piece of some citrus baked fish, and then a few slices of beef in a butter and herb sauce that lingers. Then a light, stringent custard, one that manages to clear the flavors of the fish and the beef, and I realize that the plates are still coming and I don't know if I have room for it all. More not-chicken, a thready seaweed-like salad, an assortment of creamy cheeses and fruit, a narrow wedge of something that's definitely not chocolate, but in its heaviness and richness I can see it sort of filling in for it, even though the flavor of it is more fruity and less bitter in the afternotes. A mild, sweet tea with what seems for all the world to be merinque cookies, and I look at the last plate, wondering where I'm going to put that final bite: a bit of what looks like a soft, orange taffy adorning a mint leaf. A distant memory whispers, 'It's only wafer thin' and I am simultaneously overcome with giggles and mild disgust. 

I'll save that for after my bath. Instead, I get up, experiencing the sort of pleasant discomfort of too much good food, and go into the bath where I shed the last of my Eberron garb and get into water that's just shy of being too warm. I feel the heat soaking into my aching legs and feet; a glass of ice water sitting on the tray next to the bath, and I relax. I lean my head back, feeling the water soak into my hair, and then groan as I realize I just doused my wig in the bathtub. But I find I don't much care. I just let the strands float around my shoulders, absorbing the heat, and trying to mentally process everything that happened over the last couple days. Is that going to happen every time I go to sleep, then? Nax seems to think it will. And she'd know better than I would, without a doubt. 

The question that comes to mind, of course, is what next? Do I just... go to wizard school, then? What's that Earth Aleph story about the kid with the lightning bolt scar? I don't know the story that well, but I'm pretty sure that I'm no child of destiny or whatever he turned out to be. I peer down, or what my currently reclining position feels that way, although I'm really just looking across the surface of the water, to inspect the foot I'm poking out from the liquid warmth. I can see I have a blister on the side of my pinkie toe, and wiggling my toes tells me that the skin beneath the tip of my big toe nail is tender from the unfamiliar boots. 

I ponder my new power. It feels small, like the minions. A single use, presumably in a day, although it remains to be seen whether the one a day cycle of the last week here or the one an hour cycle of the last two days in Eberron holds true. I think Nax is probably right, but it would be irresponsible of me to just assume it. 

At some point, I must have dozed off; I yawn, before standing up in the bath and stretching. I feel warm and limber, and I look at the glass of water, now warmed up to almost room temperature, and drain it in one go. Clothier's Closet for a nice, fluffy robe and some clothes for the upcoming day, a fresh wig in a longer style with bangs, in a regular brunette and frosted white tips. 

I leave my room, feeling a good bit better, heading for the doorway leading to the church bathroom. I take one last look over my shoulder at the upstairs, vowing to myself that I'll be back, and spend some time in one of the luxury suites I made for Nax, the door to one of which is open. And there's sounds coming from it.

Wait. Why is the door open? Why are there voices coming from it?

"Hello?" I call upstairs, feeling suddenly quite anxious. This is supposed to be a secure, safe space. Someplace that nobody can get into unless I let them. "Is someone there?" 

The voices stop. For a moment I think I must have imagined it, before I hear a questioning murmur in a female voice that seems familiar. Heedless of my aching legs and feet, I run up the stairs, taking them two at a time, running for the open door. And I almost trip over my own feet as I see, impossibly, Naxylotriam in her human form, sitting up in the elegant bed, the blankets in her lap and unclothed from the waist up. Next to her is someone else who I can't see clearly and I turn around as fast as possible so that I don't have to. 

"Taylor, how did you-- no, of course you CAN get into your own... But you are not HERE to... How did you get back to Eberron?!"

"Back to Eberron?" I blurt out, still not turning back around. "How did YOU get to Brockton Bay?!"

"Brockton... Bay?" she repeats, clearly not getting it. "The closest bay is [I]Crescent[/I] Bay, but that's two hundred miles north! You're confused!"

I stomp my foot angrily. "You don't believe me, put some clothes on and come downstairs!" I march down the inlaid marble staircase in a huff,  but with doubts starting to creep in. Am I REALLY dreaming this time? Am I still asleep in the downstairs bath? I still feel pretty full, so I'm reasonably certain the food and bath happened, although if I'm actually asleep...

I pinch myself. Nothing unusual happens; I don't know why I expected it would jar me out of whatever this is, because even in movies and stories it never actually changes anything. I step out the doorway, half expecting to end up in Eberron in the Hidden Lodge. Instead, my footsteps echo hollowly in the bathroom of the church. From past the open door, the hallway is starting to show a little detail in the predawn light. 

Behind me, I hear footsteps crossing the foyer past the sound of the fountain. Looking over my shoulder, Nax is wearing some kind of long nightgown; behind her, a tall man with a pair of trousers walks bare chested, looking first at her, then me. "Ah, Lady N-Nella? Who's that?"

"Taylor is the anomalous bearer of a dragonmark, the only such in her world, and despite her being human, bears a mark with the powers of the Ghalandan halflings. Also, she created this place and controls it with a precision even I can not match, so it would be in your best interests to treat her with at least as much respect as you do me." Her tone is kind of indifferent as she speaks to him. Also, I guess we're not keeping that a secret now? She steps up next to me and peers out the doorway to the church. "Taylor, what did you do?"

"I don't- I just tried to make the same thing for me I did you!" I protest. "I didn't know you'd be in it when I got here!"

"We need to analyze the manaflows for this," she mutters under her breath. "This is... I do not know [i]what[/i] would cause... are you CERTAIN you were in your... no, that is definitely not..." There's a certain schadenfreude in seeing her perplexed. 

Still, I now have an even bigger worry. I can't just expect Nax and her, uh... well, I want to say boyfriend, but there doesn't seem to be THAT much affection between them. I can't just expect them to stay holed up in my Mansion all day; especially not now that I have no idea if, with Nax HERE, whether or not when I go back to sleep tonight I go back THERE. 

Oh crap. She's going to want to see the city once she gets over her shock. And she's got some SERIOUS pride. What's she going to react like when she hears about Lung callng himself not just 'a' dragon, but 'THE' dragon? And what about this guy she's with? I have a weird impression he's some kind of prostitute, which honestly, raises ALL kinds of bizarre and uncomfortable questions but also means I may have inadvertently brought a prostitute and a dragon into a Catholic church. And I don't know enough about Catholicism to know which would offend them more.

My life is hells of really bad complications right now. And if it's almost dawn, that means Deacon Henry might be here soon, and Father DiMaggio almost certainly will be. And didn't Father DiMaggio say I was supposed to meet a Bishop today? Am I too young to get an ulcer? "Okay, so I have a bad problem right now that I don't know how to address," I begin. "Namely, that this building here isn't my place, I'm being allowed to stay here by the priest who runs this church and I can probably lose the privelege if he sees-" I stop as Naxylotriam makes a couple gestures and whispered words and the both of them disappear. 

"Fear not, Taylor," Nax says from empty air. Oh, she can go invisible too. That's... well, maybe convenient. Maybe really worrying. "Your landlord will not know we are here." 

I wince, and look back into my world with worry. "I probably broke a lot of laws by even accidentally bringing you guys here. So we can't let anyone know you're not FROM here." Belatedly, I remember, "And also, uh, oh god I have no idea how to even get across all the laws. Like crossing the street at stoplights. And starting a fight can get you put in jail. And not that it's a law, it just sucks, but right now it's almost winter and we're a lot farther north on Earth than you guys are on Eberron. And money. And IDs!" 

This is so very much not what I'm prepared for.

"You worry too much," Nax says. "I can keep us hidden." 

Her companion speaks up, and says, "Uh, may I just stay here?" 

"Wait, how can I even understand you?" I ask. "I don't speak, uh... any languages from here." 

"Well, I am Lady Nella's..." He trails off, and I feel like I'm missing some body language here what with the invisibility. 

"He is equipped with advantages such as I have been able to procure for him. And Chalmer, she knows who I am. Taylor, this is my most trusted agent and sometime consort, Chalmer. He is from my homeland. His family has served as retainer to me for nine generations." I try to think what my family was doing nine generations back, but then remember I don't know much even about my own great grandparents, much less what the grandparents of THEIR great grand parents were doing. Although 'trusted agent' at least eliminates the possibility of him being a prostitute... I think?  

"Then she is why you asked me...?" Chalmer ventures.

"Indeed." 

"Asked him what?" I really wish she'd stop that. I get that she wants me to learn to think for myself, but there's a difference between goading me into piecing together information myself and just being inscrutable. 

"Chalmer is the one who I consulted with regarding the magics that were bringing you to Eberron for only a few minutes at a time." 

I suddenly really wish he was visible so I can glare at the guy who's responsible for whatever caused all this. Because I know this has to be his fault somehow.