[The Keep] Walking to Skye

[Straken]

“Pfft, you’re dating a nerd,” Brooke joked as the two made to leave. Passing through the doors, the American waggled the clipboard at the two sentries who merely shrugged before waving to Drysi. The teens walked back down the passageway, and about the time they neared the labs Drysi’s message finally sent. “Could always go sneak a peek inside. Check out Mastrogiacomo’s interrogation methods.”

Laughing dismissively at her own suggestion, Brooke did look at the door to the Chief’s lab with no small amount of curiosity before forcing herself to keep moving on up the stairs. Back up in the Lounge, Brooke and Drysi rejoined the other young Keepers, who had in turn also been joined by a couple other druids from various Circles; and through a bit of strong arming and intimidating glares, Brooke secured the couch again for herself and her guest. Amid brainstorming to determine a fun game to play, Brooke suggested something she figured Drysi would have fun wit as well as break the ice for her here in the Lounge, a Drawing War. The rules were simple enough, she explained; there was a piece of paper that would get passed around, and all you had to do was draw a doodle of something that could beat the previous doodle in a fight.

“E G, a walnut gets beat by a nutcracker, the nutcracker gets beat by a blowtorch. So on and such ‘n’ such. An’ at the end, Danielle over there is an illusionist and can make the whole battle come to life.”

About thirty minutes passed before received a text back from Ruarc, that read:

“Nothing to worry about. The Chief merely grilled me about functionality that I might have left out, and any other artifacts I may have failed to mention. Still in one piece.”

[Kokuten]

Ruarc’s apprentice shot him back a text in rapid fire.

”Are there other artifacts you didn’t mention? Just in case.”

At the mention of a drawing war, Drysi thought herself supremely qualified in thoroughly defeating the others. Afterall, she was a pretty good artist, not to mention a scribe who was very good with ink. The rules, however, left her feeling less equipped to win. She could draw very good doodles of walnuts and nut-crackers, but details wouldn’t be a winning factor.

She could, however, draw a larger variety of things.

“I’ll start!” Drysi chimed with enthusiasm, back out of her robe and free of the burden of her satchel. She tugged off her gloves and pointed a finger at her bag.

A piece of paper flew from the dark folds, and Gideon emerged, pushing Drysi’s quill kit from the bottom. The triclops took the kit, and extended her arms to let her snake slither up her arm to get back on her shoulders. Then, with a self-satisfied smile, she began rapid strokes with her quill. It took about a minute and a half, but when she twirled her finger to spin the page around, it looked as though it should have taken longer.

At one edge of the paper was drawn a detailed form of a werewolf, pouncing and mouth lined with menacing canines. It was broad and fierce, with the eyes being the most intense part.

“A lycanthrope!” announced Drysi, quite proud.

[Straken]

“Ha! Easy!” Brooke whooped as she was next in line with the paper, and immediately began doodling; a decidedly cruder doodle than Drysi’s. Her tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth as she focused on the scribbles. “Ya know, my master’s had run ins with lycanthropes?”

“Which kind?” asked a First Circle druid sitting off to the side. Brooke snapped her head up to stare at the boy with a glint in her eye, some of the other Keepers sighing; the Sage had apparently fallen for some bait.

“All four kinds in a single night, Hodge. Although the werewolves he ended up becoming friends with,” Brooke said back.

“Ah, so your master had run ins with lupine theriomorphs. Worth noting that drawing is specifically a lycanthrope,” the Sage responded, rather unphased. Brooke merely stared him down before pointing the pencil at him and saying, “Nerd.”

Once Brooke finished her sketch there was a crudely drawn cloaked figure shooting a gun at the lycanthrope.

“Thankfully lycanthropes are easier to kill than a loup-garou. Shot to the head with a high caliber round and it should drop,” Brooke sounded confident as she handed off the paper. The Sage, Hodge, had moved around the table to sit next to Brooke and snatched the paper before making his own sketch.

“Shame his aim will be off since someone put a bag over his head,” Hodge laughed.

The banter and sketching continued as the paper passed around the table, and once the sheet had made its rotation nine other drawings had been added. The sketch Drysi had to beat was The Weiner Mobile with a machine gun on top.

“So Drysi, what’s Master Flynn like when he isn’t in Keeper Mode?” asked the Keeper Claudia, the Weiner Mobile artist, as she handed the paper to the younger teen. Brooke shot her a look. “We only ever hear about him from official reports and baseless gossip. What’re his hobbies? He got a girlfriend?”

Ding

A response from Ruarc.

One or two...

[Kokuten]

Every time that Brooke took time to gush about her own master, Drysi felt the urge to challenge it. There was an inherent competitiveness in her that riggled in her chest, and it liked to show in the most mundane ways. She had almost lost track of the competition until the drawing landed back in front of her. Now there were two things she had to reflect on, one of which she was asked her experience on. Then, she checked her phone.

Now three things.

“Master Flynn? I know…”

In the corner of her eyes, Gideon rose, just noticeable enough for the druid to notice. He didn’t always speak, but poised himself physically when he felt the need to intervene.

“... some things… about him.”

Those words hung in the air until Gideon slowly set himself back down on Willow’s shoulder. Having gotten the hint, Drysi proceeded to work on the next drawing as she spoke, this one taking as much, if not more effort than before.

“Master Flynn’s a very private man, a very warm man,” she began, lifting the paper up with her magic for a little more privacy, “He’s the Arbiter of the Wilderwood; judges and arbitrates the disputes of spirits in his forest. He likes to read with some tea in his cottage, which he built by hand. Made it next to a mansion he uses as his school. Did I mention he was a headmaster? My Master oversees a school for mages who aren’t in line with the common standards in many other schools. He tends to the green, maintainin’ a garden in the back of the manse, and a field with gentle trees on the front. Slays gods on the weekends. Trundles off to the pub with his mates… and…”

Prim and proper, Drysi put a few finishing touches on her sketch, becoming keenly aware of Gideon’s eyes again, “... he might also be seein’ a fae princess, or an American gun-slinger, but that’s none of our business, ‘cause:”

The paper gently floated back down on the table, showing a handsome, broad-shouldered police officer writing a ticket next to the last drawing. “A bobbie went an’ put a boot on your weiner-mobile.”

This composed stature immediately faded as Drysi snatched up her phone, texting rapidly before throwing it back into her bag, as if it made the action more subtle.

no secrets between master and apprentice!!!!!!!! 🌩️🌩️🌩️

[Straken]

“Huh. He hits me as the type to have. Like golf, or bowling; but I guess gardening is close enough, if a bit on the nose for a druid,” Claudia mused as she rested her chin against a propped arm. Her eyes shifted past Drysi and an eyebrow raised. “Y’al’right there Brooklyn?”

Brooke meanwhile seemed oblivious to the paper sat in front of her as she appeared to be hyper-ventilating in a rather Drysi-esque manner.

“Fae princess?! Or the gunslinger?!” Brooke cupped her hands over her face as she practically curled up on the couch; her legs flutter kicking in the air, a motion that made a couple of the other druids withdraw drinks from the table while the American squeed. “So the Lonesome Stranger, Jane Smith; or… no! Caoranach?! Eeeeee!”

“Innit she the one he had ta fight?” inquired the Keeper Dutch.

“Yeah, special assignment from, like, ten years ago,” Cluadia confirmed, a cocked smile resting on her face as she watched Brooke having a fangirl moment.

“That against a rule or something?” this time it was Hodge asking.

“Technically there are no rules against fraternization between an assigned Keeper and the target,” spoke a Second Circle druid, a woman who looked to be in her young twenties. “In fact, there is a small list of similar events.”

“It was even the plot of A Year of Goodbyes. Good book, real tear jerker. Although that one was about a Keeper who fell in love with a selkie,” spoke a Sage girl around Drysi’s age.

“Oh man! Could you imagine a tussle between the Menagerie’s Gunslinger and The Mother of Demons? That’d be a sight to see.”

“Anyway, Brooke, it’s your turn. Breath. You have to beat a cop seizing the Weiner Mobile.”

“Huh? Oh right!” Brooke finally righted herself, her face red. The American once more diligently set about doodling. This time she drew a leprechaun stealing the cop’s car. “Ya can tell it’s a leprechaun by the rainbow coming off of the car.”

The group laughed and continued its banter and doodling.

“Ya know, I almost tried to see about getting a slot at Safeholme. Year or two ago. Ya like it there? Good friends?” Brooke said as she leaned back and turned to Drysi, a coy smile growing on her face as she gently elbowed the triclops. “Ya mentioned a girlfriend. What’re they like?”

Ding

That’s… not quite how the dynamic works, but I’ll be sure to tell you the next time I have a world altering artifact in my possession.

[Kokuten]

“Willow?”

Drysi had been distracted by her phone again by the time the question came around. She was furrowing her brow at Mr. Flynn, but could only furrow for so long before she needed to address the question. It was hard staying present when you were having two conversations at the same time. As the drawing carried on, Drysi thought, thinking on what to say on Willow. She could choose to be cagey and ignore the question, but more and more she realized that it felt good to talk about the people in her life.

“She’s my Kynryk Falk,” she described, staring at one of the near-by bunks as she fidgeted with her fingers, “heroic, brash, and a poor note-taker. Originally, she was Master Flynn’s first apprentice, but when it came out she was an allomancer, she was off the druid track. I got into this business because of her, and I’m as well as I am because of her.”

A small smile grew on her, “We support each other. She makes me feel safe, and I keep reminding her how great she is. Being apart is actually kind of hard, now that I think about it.”

Then her words dipped, almost worried.

“I wonder how she’s doin’...”

After lingering a bit too long at that, she perked back up, ramrod straight, “Safeholme! Yeah! A’course. It’s a fine-enough place. Some of the teachers are a little… out there… some are dead impossible. It feels a bit like Hogwarts if Hogwarts were more of a real school. There’s maths and sciences alongside all the magic, but sometimes… I’ve noticed, your grades will sometime appear for certain courses. I hafta’ take Intermediate Defense, but some of my friends, like Willow, Vrey an’ Johann, got automatic grades and don’t even need to take the course now.”

Drysi began patting the table as she realized she was getting scattered, “Oh, my friends too; There’s Willow; you know. Vrey’s a girl that can phase through walls and perceptions of reality. Johann’s a necromancer, but he’s a bit of a baby. Katerina is rich, but she lives in the dorms like everyone else. There’s also Eryk, I know him a bit cause he’s a hexer what helped me once. And there’s also Manon... She’s a clown. Literal clown. Not sure what her magic is, but she is a clown all the time.”

[Straken]

“An Aloe-mancer? That the counter to a pyromancer or somethin’?” Brooke asked.

“Should start calling you Brick,” Hodge heckled the New Yorker. “She said allomancer. Like alloy-mancer. They affect metal.”

“Like in Avatar?” asked a Seventh Circle boy from across the table.

“I… don’t actually really know. Honestly didn’t know there were any left. You know, Diane? About alomancy?” Hodge addressed another Sage, an older teen girl sitting across the room reading. She looked up, processed the question, and thought for a few moments.

“Last real recorded account of any significant allomancers was a group of assassins who’s last notable event was rumored to be the assassination Henry the Sixth, King of England; 1471,” spoke the Sage.

“Wait? Like War of the Roses Henry the Sixth?” Brooke asked. Most of the heads in the room turned to look at her.

“Yes… uh, very good, Brooke,” Diane responded with no small amount of surprise.

“I watched the mini-series with my mom,” Brooke whispered to Drysi.

“You should bring her around sometime,” Hodge spoke up again. “I’m sure a number of us Sages would love to pick her brain and get power demonstrations so we can update some of our records.”

“Hey now, she’s taken, cool your brain jets,” Brooke made a shooing motion with her hand. “Anyway, sounds like you got your own little Menagerie out East, Drysi. And joking aside, you can probably swing some visitors passes for your friends if you ever feel like showing the Keep off.”

Claudia handed the paper over to Drysi, a coy smile on her face. The Weiner Mobile was back, but this time with tank treads and a cannon and Electric Boogaloo written on the side.

[Kokuten]

“Willow would have thought twice about whether bein’ a Keeper suited her if she had seen this place,” Drysi stated boldly, feeling rather energized by all the attention, until she saw her next challenge slide in front of her. The artist in her was absolutely offended by this reproduction of an already unsuccessful idea, and would have said as much if it weren’t fitting for a Keeper, “I’m sure she could tell it better, but Willow’s magic is dead simple. She can consume a metal, and burn it within to get its power. Each metal that pushes has a sister, one that pulls. Each set of sisters that affect the outside have a pair of cousins that affect the inside, themselves sisters also.”

The triclops had begun to create again, fueling her passion to make with her irritation. Drawing was soothing for that purpose, as it gave her emotions some where to go when they flared. Willow could make magic by burning the things inside her, but Drysi could, at best, make embarrassingly revealing art about her perceptions of the relationships of the people around her, “It’s a bit like Alchemy, without the maths. Well, none of the maths.”

Drysi took an extra couple of minutes to work on her counter, with a few harsh strokes.

“Speaking of Menagerie…”

The paper spun sharply and revealed a magical girl. She was decked out in the popular regalia that she was known for, blue frills, ice and the tactical wet gear of a JSDF mage. Her body was locked in a fierce strike of a fist, enhanced with the swinging weight of a glacier coming down on the Weiner-Tank.

“Kagami Miyuki,” declared Drysi proudly, impressed by her own depiction of the woman’s intensity, “the Ice Queen.”

[Straken]

The Sages in the room seemed fascinated by the allomancy explanation, with Diane going so far as to hurriedly pull out some paper and a pencil to transcribe. There were some off hand comments from the peanut gallery circles dispersed throughout, with a Sixth Circle girl beginning to hypothesize about how, or even if, allomancy prevented the allomancer from contracting heavy metal poisoning. Meanwhile a druid from the Second Circle admired the uniformity of the sister and cousin metals, and began wondering how many groups there could be.

“Hell yeah she should become a Keeper!” Brooke practically cheered the notion. “Getting a Keeper with a lost school of magic once used by assassins would be metal!”

Hodge flicked Brooke’s ear at the pun while Claudia tossed a wadded up wrapper at the New Yorker’s head.

“It would be the best Circle for her abilities, from what I’ve read,” Diane spoke. “As far as the accounts of the assassins guild detail, allomancy could make some of the scariest covert operatives. Pushing and pulling on metal, in an age where metal was prevalent on opponents and targets. Augmenting their bodies. Manipulating emotions. Even an unconfirmed report of manipulating time and space. What’s worse, they couldn’t even be tracked using magic.”

“Did they have a cool name?” Brooke asked.

“Huh?” Diane sounded confused.

“The guild name. Was it cool?”

“Oh, they called themselves The Mistborn. Whether due to operating on misty nights, being quiet as the mist, or just picking something; perhaps a combination of all three even.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty dope,” Brooke nodded appreciatively before Drysi handed the paper over. Immediately the American’s face contorted into a scowl and turned to the Triclops. “That’s playing dirty.”

Tap, tap, tap went the pencil against the American’s forehead as she thought of her options, and after about thirty seconds looked to have an ah ha moment. Quickly she began to scribble, and finally revealed a crudely drawn man with one arm standing between Miyuki and the Weiner Tank.

“Percival Caxton! The Menagerie’s Alchemist who totally doesn’t have connections to the mob. No way Kagami would go through her high school sweetheart,” Brooke spoke with utter confidence as she passed the paper along. “Fun fact about Percival, about five years back he and Master Flynn…”

“Done,” interrupted Hodge as he positioned the paper for others to see. On it was a cloaked figure punching Percy. “Master Flynn beats up the Catstown fellow.”

Brooke merely gawked at Hodge, the look on her face ranging from indignation at having been interrupted to disappointment that someone had used Master Flynn before she could.

“Ha! He’s easy to beat,” boasted the next druid in line, to which Brooke’s face now looked like she wanted to start a fight. The other druid drew quickly, revealing a stack of paperwork. The group laughed, with the Seconds laughing the hardest at the joke. Further on the paper went, until at last it landed in front of Drysi. By this point the game had gone on for around an hour, and the gaggle of druids had filled the page with a myriad of incongruous doodles of various levels of talent.

“Alright, last one, put a bow on this Drysi,” Claudia said, passing the paper over; the drawing to beat and conclude the Drawing War: a fire breathing dragon.

[Kokuten]

An apparent glow radiated from Drysi as she basked in all the amazement and wonder at her explanation of the allomancer phenomenon. She had come up with the sisters and cousins idea a while ago while taking a shower, practicing giving lectures to mages in twenty years about all the great things she would know. Who knew that she’d get the chance to use it now?

It dawned on her that Willow was something amazing. Drysi took her for granted, since she saw her every day, and the strange magics encountered at Safeholme were just a way of life out there. Here, where Drysi blended in like a bush in a forest, Willow would have stood out well.

As the others talked back and forth, Drysi’s mind wandered. It would have been better if Willow had stayed a druid, she thought. These were her people. She would have felt at home here. Mr. Flynn had told her, once, that a druid had to be able to finish the initiation ceremony, and summon their own familiar. That was something Willow could never do… unless…

Drysi stared down at the forming scribble of Mr. Caxton.

“Huh?”

She drifted out of her thoughts to come to a terrifying realization.

”The bloody RA is a fookin’ somebody!? A member of the Menagerie!? He’s Ms. Kagami’s sweetheart!?”

”You didn’t know that?” asked Gideon, surprised.

”Did you!?”

”Ms. Laoise tells much and knows many people,” revealed Gideon, shifting to Drysi’s other shoulder, ”and few people know Mr. Caxton as well as Ms. Laoise does.”

“H-ha ha!” sputtered Drysi, stilted, trying to sound confident in her knowledge, “Go-Good call, Brooke. I was hoping you–... wouldn’t think of-... that guy.”

The triclops stole a pensive glance at her snake.

”Did she say connections to the mob?”

”It’s best not to think about it.”

Drysi was left to stew in these thoughts, in the unlikely moment that she would be pondering about Mr. Caxton and Willow at the same time. The two had little to do with each other, nothing in common except for this strange little moment. Though at that moment, Drysi had to acknowledge the two of them were more amazing than she had originally thought.

Then, the dragon slid in front of her. The paper had turned into a tableau of wonderful little drawings, going from the truly detailed to the barely recognizable. She recognized the challenge, though, and a lot of things had already been called or drawn. Had she not something strangely prepared for dragon-slaying, she might have struggled to give an adequate response. Yet, there were a few books that Drysi had read that had given her knowledge of something, someone who was a slayer of dragons. There were a few pictures in the records she had seen of this man. There wasn’t enough in her mind to faithfully recreate him, but thankfully, Drysi was an artist, and she knew a descendant that probably looked a lot like him.

In the time it took her to think of it, she had already sketched out the figure of an aged man filled with grit, Irish pedigree and shrouded in a druid's cloak. He stared up at the crude dragon, taking the creature’s fire and coiling it over a sword. He contorted between doodles in a defiant stance, ready to strike.

Drysi set her quill down, and spoke the man’s name.

“Niall Flynn.”