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A fragment of the Garden of Remembering
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If you're reading this for whatever reason, stay out of the heap. This is all just a draft, of course, but the heap is little more than a scratchpad, a random disorganised pile of scripts, notes, and miscellaneous snippets.


It would be nice if the table of contents could be broken up properly. This it all a terrible hack.
<screenplay>


<div class="top-toc">{{#toc:1}}</div>
'''''MIDNIGHT... BUT NOT


= The story proper =
''After. The Void. The Nothing. The universe of Arling Tor has been destroyed. Only sphinxes remain, 3.8 billion winged cat creatures, hungry, immortal, lost. They barely move, lingering, hovering, balling together, forming a nearly solid moon-sized sphere of roiling cat matter. They do not hurtle.


== 0: The end of everything ==
''Gaze, sweetling, upon the sheer impossibility.


In the end, the universe was destroyed, leaving behind two survivors surrounded by approximately 3.8 billion sphinxes.  
''Instantiate. The centre of the sphere. A pocket, not of air, but of space. In it are two humans, or at least entities who had once been human. Bertram is in grey, dark and concealing, unchanged from his ancient role of Voice. Coraline is in blue, light and summery. They are the same. They are nothing alike. Together, they form something else entirely, but not. She is no longer the Hand.


The survivors were rather annoyed, not so much because everything they had ever known was now gone at this point, but because, as a result, they found themselves sitting in a small pocket in the middle of what was effectively a giant, moon-sized wad of winged cats. Sphinxes watched them from all sides. They were sitting on sphinxes. Bertram had a sphinx on his lap. Coraline had a sphinx on her head. Occasionally the walls would roil as the sphinxes rearranged themselves, but mostly the interior was just a solid expanse of fur and eyes and wings and whiskers and cute little cat noses crinkling softly in their general direction. And the odd butthole, doing much the same.
''Cat eyes stare at them from all sides. Cat noses crinkle. Cat butts flash.


"Good job," Bertram said.
''They speak over the purring, too loud to hear, but to their ears, meaningless. "Good job," Bertram says.


Coraline glowered at him from under her sphinx hat. It made her look like Batman.
''A sphinx drops onto Coraline's head, seemingly unplanned, but impeccable, draping itself over her face like a deep cowl. Its eyes supersede her own. Together, they look like Batman, and together they glare at him unimpressedly.


"Really," Bertram said. "I'm impressed. I did not expect that when we destroyed the entire universe, this would happen."
''"Really, I'm impressed," Bertram goes on. "I did not expect that when we destroyed the entire universe, this would happen."


== 1: A perfectly normal response ==
</screenplay>


{{q|''Most people have dreams that are very simple. Family, home, food, warm water for a bath at the end of the day. Not that difficult.''|Earthan blogger}}
== Part 0: Present introductions ==


Coraline Henderson was perfectly normal. She owned an inn and tended bar in the small town of Molstead, got out of bed in the middle of the afternoon, bought random things at market that sometimes made no sense at all, rescued passing adventurers from giants, occasionally went to temple and argued with the statuary, and was generally thoroughly badass. The only thing particularly abnormal about her was the minor detail that she was actually from another planet, in another universe, called Earth.
''In the year 2028, by the Cerrisian calendar, the crown of Soravia fell, sending the kingdom into chaos and turmoil. Years pass. The ruling Houses struggle for power and influence, making alliances and sending their armies to march and engage in terrible battles. The devastation only spreads, with no end in sight.


In Molstead she tended to go by the name Lyra Zidane. There wasn't anything particularly wrong with her real name, but she was paranoid, and Lyra was a nice name. Not that 'Coraline' was her real name either; for a native Finn, it had far too few vowels to be appropriate. But that didn't matter here. They wouldn't have been able to pronounce it no matter how many vowels it had.
''But Soravia is large, and many areas remain almost unaffected.


Half the time people didn't even get 'Lyra' right. It would have been laughable, though in all fairness they did tend to be drunk when this happened. One of the perks of bartending.
''But Soravia is small, and there is no escape within its shores.


This morning, Coraline woke up relatively early - after all, it was still ''morning''. There was a cat on her head, which helped. It was also the middle of summer, which was probably the main reason - even downstairs the rooms tended to get quite warm in the daytime.
''Notes:


She pushed the cat off her head and stared at the ceiling for a moment in the stewing heat. The cat slid onto the other pillow and curled up again.
# ''Coraline is a librarian.
# ''The story is always told from perspective. Translations are built in, even gestures.
# ''A 'universe' is an artificial construct.
# ''Notes may provide context, but not meaning.
# ''Coraline Henderson is dead.
# ''{{idioma|Sisu.}}


"How can you even move in this?" she asked the cat. "All the fur... so warm..."
=== Narrow Escape ===


The cat said nothing, so Coraline just lay there for a bit in extreme discomfort. Everything was warm. She felt like a puddle. The voices, though contained to a low murmur, felt like dripping, weighing down on her even more than the oppressive heat. Everything was just... heavy.
<screenplay>


Eventually, somehow, she got out of bed, found some clothes, downed her morning 'medicine', which just happened to be a cup of brandy, and nearly fell on her face when the cat ran out after her. Then she was in the kitchen with its horrible lack of any sensible kitchen appliances. These people had magic, for crying out loud! Why hadn't anyone invented a dishwasher? Convection oven? Mixer? ''Refrigerator?!''
EXT. Country road; Soravian wilderness - afternoon


All in all, it was terrible. As she threw out some mouldy bread and fried up some eggs and toast, she made a mental note to look into commissioning at least that last one the next time she stopped by Keller's place. He was, after all, a wizard. Even if he was useless, she could probably tell him enough about the basic operating principles to get ''something''... for now, though, she filed the note away with the other perennial note to put in some proper insulation upstairs to stop the entire place from turning into a bloody oven. All it really needed was the walls filled with mud. Shouldn't be so hard. None of this should be so hard.
A small Finnish woman with light brown hair, Coraline, is fleeing unseen hunters. She's in the autumn woods, leaves blowing down around her, sprites dancing in their trails. There's a road, though she cannot quite seem to decide whether to avoid it or stick to it. Behind her, the sound of horses and dogs and shouting men gains imminence. Slung across her back is an ornate golden staff with a large, stylised phoenix built into its end, with wings outstretched.


Grumbling, she walked into the tavern proper, and was immediately surprised to find that it was indeed a tavern and not a library. This happened from time to time, but in a way she supposed it sort of made sense. All her life she'd dreamed of being a librarian. And here one of her greatest dreams of all had come true: she had a job.
There is another chatter of voices, too, somewhere else, getting louder, but these are unfocused, uninterested, all around.


She glared at it. The stupid thing was how very similar libraries and taverns really were, in practice. Both were places where ideas converged and were communicated. Both were places where people came to self-diagnose and self-medicate, respective, and where they sually made their lives worse in the process. And this was before you added ''internet'' to the equation and wound up with bars that literally were libraries.
Everything has failed her. She is desperate, and has little hope, but still she runs, finally making up her mind to stick to the road, sprinting down its dirt pack with everything she has left, breathing hard, in and out, in and out. Every stride jolts through her bones.


She sighed, grumped up to the counter, almost tripped over the cat again, realised she'd forgotten what she came in here for, went over to prop open the door to maybe get some breeze, and then, on the way back to the cat, nearly ran into a guy coming down the stairs.
She can feel her strength failing, but she tells herself, at each of the road markers, get to the next, get to the next, get to the next.


She glared at him. He was a local, but he'd been too drunk to go home the previous night and had thus just gotten a room to sleep it off. Not unusual, but also normally not her job to deal with it.
She doesn't stop.


He gave her a small wave and rubbed his head. Then he tripped over the cat.
Even as she unwillingly slows, and the world darkens, she does not stop.


Coraline just sort of stared for a moment.
Even as the dogs make the road, even as the horses clatter into hearing, even as the shouts become clear, she does not stop.


Somehow she got him to the bar, and passed him a coffee. He mumbled what might have been thanks and stared glumly into the mug, disinclined to do anything with it.


"Drink it," she said. "It'll help."
EXT. Soravian town - evening


The guy just sat there. The cat jumped up after him and flopped down next to his arm.
It is earlier, a few days, still autumn. The town is full of soldiers, hanging around the bars, loitering on the streets, tenting on the outskirts. It is not quite an occupation, but almost.


Coraline petted it angrily, and then looked back to the guy. "Seriously, drink it," she said.
Coraline hurries through, avoiding them but not. She needs a place to stay, food to eat.


He picked up the mug and stared at his coffee as though it were some strange and foreign potion. Oddly, it wasn't, though Coraline had no idea why. It was just a thing here, and they got huge shipments periodically. And it was very much coffee.
She heads into an inn.


Suddenly he downed it in three solid gulps, stared at the empty mug, seemed to stop, then startled, twitched, stood up, and fell over again. The cat peered after him with absolute disinterest.


Coraline peered over the counter as well, somewhat more worried than the cat, wondering if she'd finally managed to accidentally kill a patron, but the guy was already getting up. He shrugged himself off, looked at the cat suspiciously, and then asked, quietly, "Er, how much will that be?"
INT. Some inn - evening


"Uhnn, let's see..." she said, rummaging around for a bit under the bar. Then she found the paper pad covered in doodles, and, occasionally, billing info. "Looks like you got your tab up to five, so let's make it eight silver altogether including room and board. Includes breakfast, if you want it."
It's crowded inside, more so than out, and smokey, and noisy, full of ash demons hovering about the ceiling supports.


"Er," he said, passing her the coins, "What's breakfast?"
Coraline heads over to the bar and finds the INNKEEPER.


"I made toast." She'd actually made more than toast, but the toast was the only thing left that was edible.
CORALINE
Hey.


"Okay," he said.
INNKEEPER
Get you something?


She got him a piece of toast, and watched as he wandered out, munching.
CORALINE
Meal and some vodka for the road... and I don't suppose there's any chance of a place to stay?


Later, she picked up the cat and headed out as well into the bright sunny morning. Bob, the guy down the street, was passing by with a barrow full of what were probably not coconuts. One of these days she would find out just what they were, but at the moment she was looking for someone else.
The innkeeper looks at her, surprised.


A group of women were by the Harrison place gossiping under a tree. They waved. She waved back.
INNKEEPER
We're booked, obviously, but... you're travelling alone?


Some guys were heading up the road with a bunch of saws. A gaggle of kids were playing with a dog.
CORALINE
Yeah...


There was a distinct lack of the one person who was supposed to be there.
INNKEEPER
Hold on.
(he yells over his shoulder, toward the kitchen)
Gemma!
(he heads back, continuing)
Gemma, got a question...


"Cat," she said, "Where's Jess?"
He shuffles into the back room, leaving Coraline at the bar. Other bartenders bustle around in his stead.


The cat said nothing.
Coraline looks around.


"Seriously," she said, "She should be here. She handles mornings."
It's mostly soldiers in here, too. Their insignias are one of the noble houses. One of them squeezes past Coraline to talk to another guy at the bar, and she steps aside.


The cat had nothing useful to say to this either.
SOLDIER ANDRE
Hey, check this out.


"Hmph," she said.
Andre pulls out a small soulstone and sets it on the bar. It's perfectly black.


The other guy, ROB, reaches out to pick it up, but then recoils from the touch.


SOLDIER ROB
Agh, what is that?


Still carrying the cat, she wandered off to find out just what had happened to her innkeeper. Asking around yielded nothing, though one guy kept asking her what day it was and then followed her all the way to market when she finally decided to ignore him and move on. Another asked what the deal with the cat was. She didn't know quite why she was still carrying it, but she was. She didn't know where it had even come from in the first place. It wasn't her cat.
SOLDIER ANDRE
Black soulstone. Was talking to the Deathdealer, and he gave it to me. You can use them to detect Carriers even before they turn...


The market was a fairly standard affair, as far as she could tell. A town this size had a pretty consistent setup, with stalls and tables around the square for when it was nice out, and shops all around that serving as backup. Outside it wasn't necessarily the same folks any given day - a town of a few hundred had a fair bit of overlap, and while the Jameses were the go-to meat sellers where everyone would drop off and/or pick up their meat supplies, they wouldn't necessarily get the same James son or daughter two days in a row.
Coraline is holding the soulstone in her hand, staring at it in utter fascination. Her eyes have gone completely black. The voices around her have risen to a roar in her head, drowning everything else out in black, even as the stone forms an impossible brightness in her mind. It's perfect. Safe. Necessary. Needed.


And then there was Barney, one of the blacksmiths. He kept trying to sell her a sword. Apparently he'd made it just for her, and every time he saw her come by, he'd hurry over and insist that today was the day that she would buy this brilliant piece of moulded metal off of him.
The voices rise to a scream.


Today was no different. "Lyra!" Barney said, hurrying over to her. "I've got this sword. You know I've got this sword. It's got your name written all over it, and for the absolute steal of a price of five silver it's all yours, all yours!" He held the sword, scabbard and all, up in her face and jiggled it around.
The floor drops away beneath her, swirling in green.


She pushed it aside. "Look, you-" she began, but then the other guy was in her face again, the one who'd followed her all the way here.
A moment later, everything is normal again. Coraline is still holding the stone, her knuckles white. The inn's loudness is nothing more than the chatter of dozens of men all crammed inside one common space. Rob and Andre are staring at her.


"What day is it?" the guy asked for what might have been the fiftieth time.
Coraline forces herself to drop the stone and flees in utter terror, pushing into the crowd, darting through the tables, out onto the open street. Nobody really tries to stop her, not really knowing what's going on.


The cat hissed at him. "The day you die," it said quietly, and settled around Coraline's shoulders.
The stone bounces off the floor, once, and then stops, sitting still on the ground, gleaming.


Coraline ignored this, and then Barney pulled him aside again in order to reclaim his own rightful place in her face.  
SOLDIER ROB
What, does that mean...


The day-guy, whatever his name even was, wandered off to bother the Jameses instead.
Andre leans down and picks up the soulstone.


"Five silver," Barney repeated. "Once in a lifetime deal. Just five, and it's all yours!"
SOLDIER ANDRE
She was a Carrier. The Death of Souls.


The thing was, five silver was a really good deal for a sword. Barney's steel was good, too, at least for steel - she'd previously bought a pickaxe off him, and it'd held up to all manner of non-warranty-covered abuse before she'd finally bent it out of shape. Not that she'd ever tell him about it. As annoying as the guy was, there was only so much soul-crushing she felt polite to inflict on him. Bending was not supposed to be easy.
The two soldiers exchange glances and hurry out after her.


A decent sword usually went for more like 50, too, even when it wasn't custom-made. The only problem was that she had absolutely no use whatsoever for a sword. The ornate golden staff she always carried (or slung over her shoulder, as it was now) was not only the only weapon she needed, it was the only one she could even properly use. At range, it shot energy bolts that seemed to vary in intensity according to whatever she felt like, and in a pinch is was also quite heavy and rather sharp, and thus highly effective when used to whack people over the head. So a sword wouldn't have added much.
The innkeeper comes over a moment later.


But five silver was a really good deal. "Five?" she asked.
INNKEEPER
Yeah, my wife thinks we can...
(he realises Coraline's not there anymore)
Where'd she go?


"All yours," Barney said.


"Oh, very well," Coraline said, fishing out some coins. Not only would it maybe finally get Barney out of her personal space, she'd always wanted a proper sword. Granted she'd been five, and continued to act like she was five, for a good chunk of her life. This had been perfectly fine by her brothers, of course, who had generally also acted like they were five as the entire lot of them had done vicious battle on the sofas with a set of tape measures, but a fair bit less fine by their parents, who quickly tired of things getting broken. Usually it was just tape measures, but the occasional broken chair or collarbone were no laughing matter, despite the fact that the kids had tended to laugh uproariously when it happened. While crying at the same time, in the case of the collarbone.
EXT. Soravian town - night


The sword was a strange weight on her belt. Then again, the entire belt was a strange weight on top of her light blouse and skirt, but she needed the near bottomless pocket that it held, a magic bag she'd bought the previous year and then refashioned into a purse of sorts. It was important because she especially needed the few small bottles of vodka stashed away in it in case of emergencies. Such emergencies were best avoided.
Coraline walks quickly, trying not to draw attention, but still hurrying as much as she can as she squiggles down the cluttered streets, holding her staff low, looking around for anything to help, any way out.


Barney looked her over and nodded. "Aye, yes, that's the look. Utterly dashing, the lady wizard."
She spots some horses, and manages to get over to them without anyone really noticing, and soon she's properly off, keeping the horse at a trot, whispering to it to be calm.


Coraline laughed. She couldn't help it. "What, you been trying to sell me this all this time just for looks?"


"Oh, but looks are everything," he said. "Looks and strength. And you've got them both, now."
EXT. Clearing - morning


She snorted, then said, "You seen Jess around, by any chance?" She might as well try to get something useful out of him while he was here.
A few days have passed. Coraline is slowing now, letting the horse longer to rest, walking more along with it. She lets it graze now, as she lies down in the grass, staring up into the red-orange trees and bright blue sky above. There has been no sign of pursuit.


"Not today, I'm afraid."
Clouds drift across the blue.


"Foo," she said. "Thanks for the sword, though. I think. And don't ever do that again." She held up a finger for emphasis.
The wind shifts. The horse smells something, its nostrils twitching, ears following. Faint sounds drift in from the way they came. Clatter. Barking.


He grinned at her and backed away with a weird swagger. This was basically his norm, though how he did that she had no idea. In another time and place, she suspected the guy would have been right at home in a used car lot.
Dogs.


Asking around some more (and avoiding the Jameses and their unfortunate inherited questioning baggage) revealed much the same - nobody had seen Jess today, though normally the girl did come through here on her way to mind the inn. This wasn't like her, either. From a fairly well-off family who ran one of the larger farms, Jessica Eslinger was a hard worker, and generally quite reliable. Quite consistent in her routines, too. Not at all like Coraline, who if there was one would take a different path every time just to see if there was anything there.
Coraline jumps up quickly, readjusts the tack, and mounts, hurrying the horse back into a trot.


Janice, who sold mostly cloth and craft items, suggested she head up and check the family's farm. "Might just have taken sick or something," Janice said.
She hurries now, pushing the horse harder than before, forcing herself to slow only from time to time, dismounting and walking quickly beside it. They pass through the woods covering good ground, vaguely downhill.


Coraline nodded. Be odd for the summer, but it did sometimes happen.
The horse slows further, stiffening, no longer getting up to speed, as the day goes on, and into the night, and morning.


"If not, I'd try the temple," Janice added. "It's near there, and little Jess always did like seeing the statue."
The first time it trips, she heals it, placing a hand to the hurt leg and letting it mend, even as the voices rise around her.


"Little?" Coraline said.
The second time, she abandons it, continuing only on foot.


"Well, maybe not so much anymore," Janice said with a smile. "Growing up into a right lovely young lady, that one. Might even take after you some day." She waggled a finger at Coraline.


"Oh, I do hope not," Coraline said. "With any luck she'll be doing much better by the time she's my age."
EXT. Country road - afternoon


They laughed a bit over this, and wished each other good day as Coraline headed out again.
Coraline is about to fall. She has been running too long. The rhythm in her stride is breaking down, her arms and legs no longer rising as they should. She is like the horse, but worse. She has less to trip over, though the road only barely stays beneath her feet as the trees around bounce crazily in her periphery.


She had often wondered how old they all thought she was, but never quite had the heart to ask. They also thought she was a wizard, after all. They thought she was from Ord, too, the strange mirror-universe where magic was even weirder than here, and indeed probably thought quite a few other odd things on top of that. But that was fine. People could think what they wanted, and for her part she probably thought quite a few things they didn't care to know about either.
The pursuers are all but drowned out by the voices.


It was a good go. A solid fight. She knows this. She accepts it.


She slows, and stops. Exhaustedly, she turns back the way she came, pulling her staff off over her head, planting her feet, fighting her trembling arms. She points it vaguely, levelling it back down the road, and waits.


Coraline headed up the road to the Eslinger farm, thinking about toasters. Wonderful invention, toasters. Why was she thinking about toasters? Not that she had much insight as to why her brain did much of anything anymore, but toasters sure were random.
Someone nudges her elbow, lightly, insistently. A young boy, NOLAN (8), is next to her.


She thought about a bunch of other things, too. She thought about what a hard time she had thinking. She saw a stump that looked suspiciously like a guy in rough leathers, and thought about that, and then realised it really was a guy in rough leathers when he moved.
Nolan takes her arm and pulls at her, unrelentingly, toward the side of the road, before wordlessly shoving her off down a side path.


"Hail, traveller," she said. She didn't recognise him, so that might mean business. While she made most of her money by inebriating the locals, the odd outlander was always a good addition. Especially since she could usually charge them more.
Then he turns back toward the road, just as the pursuers round the bend, and steps toward them. They slow as they approach.


He looked surprised, but it seemed to be mostly at her staff. "Fuck, that's a giant arse staff. What's the deal with that?" he said, gawping.
The dogs avoid Nolan entirely, shying away, stopping. They do not seem to like him at all.


Coraline smiled, stopping. "I'm a wizard, mate. Can't you tell?" The staff always sold that one, even though she could hardly do much real magic herself. Big, ornate, and golden, it had a stylised phoenix on the end with wings outstretched, and a bit of an orb that just sort of hovered in place, unattached, where the head should have been. Really magical-looking, that orb. But the whole thing looked too impractical to not be magical.
The DEATHDEALER leading the group addresses Nolan.


"Oh. Really?" he said, looking a little worried.
DEATHDEALER
Where is she?


She laughed, and asked, "You passing through around here? I own the Molstead Inn, if you need a room for the night." She gestured back the way she'd come.
NOLAN
Who?


"Great," he said, just sort of standing there awkwardly.  
DEATHDEALER
The woman.


He didn't seem inclined to say anything else, so she just spun about with a wave and then continued on her way.
Nolan stares at the Deathdealer blankly.


DEATHDEALER
Have you seen her?


NOLAN
No.


According to her mum, Jess had left home at the usual time this morning. When Coraline explained that her daughter had apparently never made it to town, let alone work, Mrs. Eslinger was quite concerned, and probably for good reason.
DEATHDEALER
Nobody has come this way?


Coraline was becoming rather concerned herself. People did not normally just vanish, and when they did, it was generally not a good sign at all. She supposed that that had been exactly what had happened to her in her own world, though. But she'd had warning. She had agreed to this.
NOLAN
You should have sheep. Show me to your sheep.


Even so, she assured Mrs. Eslinger that it was probably fine, something must have come up, that's all. She'd find Jess and sort it out.
The Deathdealer reins his horse away, looking down the road.


No use worrying people when they really didn't know yet if anything was amiss.
SOLDIER
What?


NOLAN
Those are sheep dogs.


SOLDIER
Dammit, kid, this is serious!


It was a long shot, but per Janice's direction, she checked the temple, too, poking her head inside while the cat on her shoulders licked its paws disinterestedly. The main room was empty, the large statue of Azorres looking down on the space surrounded by much smaller shrines to some of the other gods.
They hurry on around Nolan, continuing on.


It was cool and quiet inside, and dark, despite all the windows letting down their respective sunbeams, and she let the door shut gently behind her so as to not disturb it.
As the clatter and barking dies down again, Nolan turns back down the path to the temple.


"Hey, statue," she said, finally breaking the silence outright.


The voice that emanated out was long and low, but one she knew well, having spent considerable time arguing with it. "Welcome back, wayfarer," the statue said. "How are you holding up?"
INT. Molstead temple - evening


And it was, specifically, the statue speaking. The local gods did at times speak through their icons, but in their stead many of the larger statues likewise had voices of their own, and, indeed, personalities. Coraline quite liked this one, though she tried not to show it ever.
Coraline opens the door slowly, peering inside, then stumbling in as the heavy door closes behind her.


"Well," she said slowly, "I'm drunk out of my skull, my life's like a bloody Monty Python skit, and my innkeeper is missing. And I've got this extra cat for some reason. I have no idea where this cat came from."
The temple is still, lit dimly with late sunlight trickling in through some of the high windows and candles at the shrines to the many gods around the walls. At the far end, facing the door and the other shrines, is a single large STATUE OF AZORRES, who looks nothing like Ganesha, looking down on the space.


"No worse?" the statue said.
Some offerings are laid out at its base.


"No worse, no better, just voices, voices, voices, booze, and voices." Coraline threw her arms out in emphasis at all the voices, and sighed. "Seriously, though, have you seen Jess? It's just that her folks said she left, but noone's seen her along the way and she never showed up at work. She didn't come by here today, by any chance, did she?"
CORALINE
(quietly)
Hello?


"She has not been here," the statue said in its calm low voice.
STATUE OF AZORRES
Welcome, wayfarer, to this house of the gods. You have need of sanctuary, I suspect.


"Well, bugger," Coraline said. The cat on her shoulder stuck a paw on her cheek, and she eyeballed it out of the corner of her eye. She had two cats, Tress and Thimble. Good mousers the both of them, and also very good lap warmers, despite Thimble's perpetually angry expression. He wasn't really angry; the look was simply caused by his peculiar brow structure.
CORALINE
Yes, gods... yes. Are you Ganesha?


And this cat was neither Tress nor Thimble. Everything else aside, it was a lot larger, prettier, and a very fluffy calico longhair to boot. "Oy, cat," she said. "Who are you, anyway?"
STATUE OF AZORRES
You will be safe here. My priests will provide a place to rest.


"Does it matter?" the cat said.
CORALINE
But the soldiers... they won't give up. They know what I am.


Coraline gave the cat a confused look, then abruptly turned back to the statue. "Statue, was I just speaking cat, or was the cat just speaking... uh... whatever the hell this is?"
STATUE OF AZORRES
They will not take you from this house.


"Just Soravian," the statue said. "But shouldn't you know that, if you speak it?"
Two priests, DAVIS and CORMITH, come over and help Coraline toward one of the back doors.


"The moment I know anything about anything will be the moment there's been a massive miracle. Like, when I'm dead or something." Coraline shook her head. "Seriously, it doesn't work that way. Somehow I just talk and the language comes out, except there's some things I can't say properly at all. Usually names and perkele."
CORMITH
Here, come with us.


"Most interesting," the statue mused.
DAVIS
We'll keep you hidden until they leave. It'll be fine. I'm Davis, and this is Cormith.


Coraline frowned, but before she could ask what that meant, the cat said, "You speak cat, I speak Soravian. What does it matter?"
CORALINE
Lyra. Lyra Zidane.


"I could logic you down a hole where ain't nothing matters at all, cat," she said. "If nothing else, though, I need something to call you. That's not 'this cat'. You know?"
DAVIS
All right, Lyra. You're among friends now.


The cat purred and curled against Coraline's cheek.


"Also it'd be nice to know where you came from so I can worry less that you might be an alien or something trying to steal my brain juices," Coraline muttered.
INT. Molstead temple - night


"I'm Agata," the cat conceded. "I'm a witch's cat. I needed a witch, and you seemed witchy."
The main room is empty now, aside from Nolan, who is lingering by one of the shrines, looking strangely at home.


"What, did something happen to your old witch? Also, I kind of ain't a witch."
The Deathdealer and some of the soldiers enter the temple. They pass Nolan by, not paying him heed.


Agata eyed her for a moment, then stretched out a leg and stuck a claw up her nose.
DEATHDEALER
(approaching the statue purposefully)
Where is she, statue?


"Ow?" Coraline said. It didn't actually hurt, but then again she had kind of busted her pain sensitivity by being always drunk, so maybe it should have. She didn't know.
STATUE OF AZORRES
Who, dear Deathdealer?


"You'll do," the cat purred.
DEATHDEALER
You know exactly who I mean. We have covered the village. This is the only place she could be. Where is she hiding?


Coraline frowned at the cat. This was all very unexpected, and not what she had come here for at all. She glanced back at the statue.
STATUE OF AZORRES
And what do you intend to do should you find her?


The statue said nothing, and was instead, for the moment, simply very statuey.
DEATHDEALER
You know that too.


"Witch died. Had a run-in with a witcher," Agata said under her ear. "Deathdealer, it was."
STATUE OF AZORRES
And you should know that no aspect of Azorres would ever aid you toward that end.


Coraline pulled the cat off her shoulders and rearranged it as a lump in her arms, which she proceeded to scratch behind the ears. "What, around here?"
DEATHDEALER
She is a Carrier of the Death of Souls! She may look like a person now, but she is cursed, and you know what will happen if she goes free and finishes her transformation. That woman will break down into a mindless monster, devouring and destroying all souls in her path, and the curse will only spread.
Surely you must see reason. She must be destroyed, now, before it is too late.


"Around," Agata purred, curling into her fingers happily.
STATUE OF AZORRES
She is under my protection.


The statue's voice echoed through the room once more: "How do you know you are not a witch?"
DEATHDEALER
(starting toward the back door)
I will find her. I will dismantle you piece by piece if I must.


"Er... I suppose I don't?" Coraline said. "Nevermind witches, though. If I were a 15-year-old girl on my way to work in the morning, what might stop me from getting there?"
The statue's voice changes, becoming larger, stranger.


"Everything," Agata said. "Young witches get into all the worst trouble."
STATUE OF AZORRES
(quietly)
You would threaten a god in his own temple?


"Well, this one definitely ain't a witch..." Coraline said.
NOLAN
I think you should leave now.


"Try it the other way around," the statue said. "''You'' are looking for Jess. Where did you lose her?"
The Deathdealer turns to regard Nolan.


Coraline paused and gave it a bit of a think. She wished she could still think the way she used to, carry a thought all the way through, consider every possibility, but it was so hard these days. She remembered doing it all the time. But now... her brain ran around in circles a few times before she finally managed to focus on Jess. Jess had left home and never made it to town. Jess had walked from one place toward the other. That really only left one thing, which still didn't really explain the issue.  
NOLAN
(stepping out of the shadows)
Unless you wish to lose both life and soul in one slow, agonising process.


"The road?" Coraline asked finally.
DEATHDEALER
Really?


"Indeed," the statue said. "If she went missing somewhere along the road into town, look for answers there, that they may bring you to the truth."
NOLAN
Do you intend to try me, little man?


"Right," Coraline said, then added, not sarcastically at all, "Thanks, statue. You're a wonderful replacement for a working brain."
The Deathdealer (who is decidedly not little) and soldiers stare at Nolan.


Nolan stares impassively back, not blinking.


DEATHDEALER
You will be witnessed.


She went back to the road, Agata now following behind her, and stopped by the bend where she'd run into that guy before. There was no sign of him now, only rocks in the unpaved road that looked suspiciously like rocks poking out of the unpaved road, and dappled sunlight bouncing out of the trees, and waves of hot air rising off the road itself.
NOLAN
Okay.


Supposing the guy weren't staying in town, there were some old ruins off the road near here. They were a favourite locale for bandits and small children alike.
The Deathdealer nods at the soldiers, and they all leave.


"Let's check this out," Coraline announced, after spending entirely too long just sort of staring off into space. Pulling her staff off over her head and momentarily getting her braid tangled in the strap, she headed into the trees.
Nolan tilts his head slightly.


Agata trotted ahead, leading her through the underbrush, away from dry patches, around soggy spots, making little noise. A spider fell on Coraline's head and tried to run down her face, but wound up toppling to the ground instead.
The Deathdealer draws his sword. On its blade, by the hilt, is a dark emblem of a skull and mask.


She stopped to scratch her nose, and Agata stopped too. Then they heard the voices, rough and raucous, drifting through the trees ahead. Coraline pushed through the twiggage with great ineptitude and peered into the quasi-clearing.
Nolan doesn't move.


This had been a city once, a home to the ancient Torini elves, but now few buildings remained standing, let alone intact. Mostly the white stone blocks and columns lay scattered throughout the ferns and grass, with only the odd wall or pillar rising against the green, clusters of buildings tumbled down into rubble and isolate walls now almost totally reclaimed by the forest. The only thing that really stood out was the building at the far end - intact, still sealed after all these centuries, and nearly untouched by storm or moss.
STATUE OF AZORRES
Theramon sa Tgomi, stand down. If you will not listen to me, then listen to Kyrule, your own god, who has given me your name as proof. Stand down, and let this matter go. This Carrier you seek does not concern you.


The only other thing that stood out was the bandit camp flat smack in the centre of the ruins.
The Deathdealer stops and relaxes, turning to regard the statue in surprise.


Of the men, Coraline counted up to about ten or so, but kept losing the exact count as she glowered in their general direction. Two of them were standing some sort of guard, though neither appeared to have noticed her despite her complete lack of care; the general attention of the entire group seemed to be on Jess, who was tied to a tentpole, and a particularly dangerous-looking bandit standing over her saying something loud and unintelligible. Jess didn't respond. She appeared to be unconscious, her dress torn conspicuously.
DEATHDEALER
I... understand. I will obey.


"Voi paska," Coraline said quietly. She could curse in the local language, of course, but this just felt better, especially when she was only talking to herself anyway.
STATUE OF AZORRES
Tell your men she is dead, the matter handled before you even came. This is ''over''.


"I count thirty-seven," Agata said. "Most in the camp, two more in the trees." The cat motioned with its head the general direction of the more in the trees.
The Deathdealer bows shakily and then very hastily leaves.


"Um," Coraline said. Apparently she couldn't even count anymore. Great. And there was also this problem of thirty-odd bandits in a camp who had apparently stolen her employee. She kind of needed that employee.
After, Nolan strolls over to the statue looking almost curious.


After a few minutes just sort of standing there failing to make any progress at all thinking things through, Coraline realised the voices in her head were getting louder again. She fished a bottle of vodka out of her nearly bottomless bag, downed a couple gulps, nearly fell over when the world gave her a massive spin, and then noticed Agata had fallen asleep on her feet.
NOLAN
Interesting.


How long had she been standing there? The lighting looked different now. But everything also just looked darker. It always did this, though, when she started to sober up. The key was to not ever completely sober up. She didn't know what would happen exactly if she did, but from how bad things had gotten before she'd started self-medicating, she doubted it would go any better now.
STATUE OF AZORRES
Very.


And for now she had bandits to worry about. They seemed to be eating lunch.
</screenplay>


She supposed she could just shoot the lot of them. Only problem there was she didn't know where the other two were. And they also had a hostage. And her reflexes were kind of not good. And they had a hostage. And there were a lot of them. She had vodka, though. She could throw vodka at them. Flaming vodka. That might distract them. Except no, no, that wouldn't work. Thinking was definitely not her strong suit these days, especially after adding vodka. She wished she had brought the statue.
=== A day in the life ===


Perhaps she could go for help. Get the militia involved, come in with a whole lot of crossbows and corner and arrest the whole lot of the bandits. Except these guys were pretty heavily armed, and would likely fight back and then some if anyone tried that, so odds were even if the militia did win, it wouldn't be without cost.
<screenplay>


Maybe she could try talking to them. Because that totally wouldn't get her captured and killed as well. Or would it? She was a wizard, after all. Or looked like one, anyway. And she could totally shoot anyone who tried anything. Probably.
INT. Molstead Inn - morning


"Right!" Coraline announced quietly, "Let's get killed!" She stuffed the bottle back in her bag, hefted her staff, and strolled into the ruins with what she hoped was the confident sort of stride that someone with every right to be there would use. Because, like, confidence and stuff. People with confidence could be dangerous. She was dangerous. Yes.
Coraline Dreams.


Agata gave her a dubious look but followed closely. One of the watchers said something as she approached.
<div class="dream">


"That's her," the guy she'd run into before said, standing up. A few backed away as she walked past, but the dangerous-looking bandit rose to meet her; the others simply sat and stood and watched, leaving the matter to their leader. And he was their leader - this was clear not just from his posture and regard, but also his hat. It was an extraordinarily fluffy hat, faded blue, knitted with considerable care. It had what might have been cat ears poking up on top. It was all in all quite ridiculous. None but the leader could have pulled off such a ridiculous hat.
In the dream, you are running, fleeing. The sky hangs grey and low. The ground is dull and rocky, simply there. The wind is furtive and blustery, coming in wet bursts, whistling in the trees' leaves. It's going to rain.


Coraline stopped a few paces away, and he smiled slowly. "You in charge?" she demanded flatly.
A noise trickles out of the wet, a hint of warmth drifting around you. Trolls. They are hunting you. They have always been hunting you, and you don't remember any point in which they haven't been hunting you, and now they are getting closer. Dull leaves shift underfoot, muffling you footfalls, but it doesn't matter.


He regarded her for a moment, then said softly, "Bold move, coming alone." He seemed to disregard the cat.
You trip. You fall. You are down, underground. A passage, a tall shaft above, open to the sky, shows little light from so far. The first raindrops fall wet and heavy, but only from time to time, only on one side, thrown by the wind above.


They weren't doing anything about it, however. Just waiting. Seeing what she would do first. She had been counting on this. Or she would have been had she been counting on anything.
Down here, though, the walls are already wet. Seeping moisture hints at life within the ground, of strangeness, of alien forces silently at work, always changing. You cannot linger. You have to run. So you do, and the walls run with you. You run, and the walls change, widening the corridor, opening out into a grand cavern. Further on, jagged rock gives way to strange formations, pillars and columns, almost too precise, but right here, in front of you, is a car, some ancient Soviet model, poking its hood from the wall. It grins at you, all bumper and headlights, and says, "Whaddya know about that?"


"I thought perhaps we could resolve this matter with civility," she said. "Before anyone should..." she glanced to where one of the bandits was trying to inconspicuously load a crossbow, "...get hurt." She hadn't actually noticed the guy before she'd said that; glancing over had simply seemed the thing to do, and then he'd just sort of been there, cranking.
"I'm sorry," you tell the car, "But I can't stop. I need to keep moving. The moment I stop, everything goes horribly wrong and the trolls find me, so I need to keep moving, okay?"


The crossbow guy laughed nervously.
"I won't ask him," the car replies, withdrawing back into the wall.


Coraline levelled her gaze on the leader again. Her staff was pointed in his general direction, though not directly, and he cocked his head at it before returning the gaze.
That's good enough. But then you realise you're stopped.


"Well, I reckon we could come to an arrangement," he said. "Such don't come cheaply, though."
The dream falls away.


Coraline eyeballed him, then abruptly turned and walked over to where Jess was tied. Only the girl's hands were bound, and loosely; it was clear they didn't expect her to be able to do much. And indeed, the girl was rather bruised, with a black eye, and breathing raggedly. "For damaged goods?" Coraline said, glancing back.
</div>


The bandit leader faltered a moment. He looked disappointed, like he'd been hoping she wouldn't notice, then a bit worried - perhaps not in the least because Coraline now had her staff pointed directly at Jess's head. "Ransom's five thousand," he said, recovering himself. "And we'll be all out of your hair. Water under the bridge, as it were."


She smiled slightly. "I'll give you five hundred," she said, slipping a coinpurse out of her bag with her free hand. She pulled a few coins out and then tossed the rest of the bag to the bandit leader. Then she pointed at another bandit, this one a lanky bald guy. "You. Bring her for me."
The inn is a rustic preindustrial affair, wood and stone, but with glass panes and reasonably straight edges to its architecture. Coraline is sprawled on her bed in a back room. Her hair is a silvery white-blonde now, and considerably longer. A fluffy tortoiseshell CAT is on her face.


For a moment nothing happened. Agata put her ears back, and indeed the cat was a her, Coraline realised. Calicos usually were, since it took a particularly odd genetic fluke for a male to get calico fur, and this was also a witch's cat. It was only fitting.
A bell is mounted on the wall nearby, attached to a contrapture leading back into the main room. A bottle of brandy is on her bedside table. Her phoenix staff is leaning against the wall, wings now folded. Books are piled up on shelves.


She looked back to the bandit with the hat. The leader, on whom everyone here was waiting. It was a tense situation, but her mind just wanted to wander.
The voices are a disorganised chatter, roaring in the background.


Finally he nodded, but motioned for two other bandits to go with as well. The one she'd picked out picked up Jess, and then she was headed back out of the camp, out of the ruins, onto the road, the bandits following behind her with Jess, Agata following them.
Coraline shoves the cat off her head and then sits up, eyeing the cat confusedly.


The cat slides onto another pillow. There are a lot of pillows.


CORALINE
Mwaaagh?


The walk back to the Eslinger farm was quick, or so it felt to Coraline.
The cat purrs.


With pursed lips, Mrs. Eslinger quickly ushered Coraline and the lanky bandit inside, directing them toward a room in back with a bed. Then she abruptly turned about and informed the other two in no uncertain terms that they would need to wait outside, daring them to disagree, blocking the entire doorway with her plump frame.
CORALINE
{{idioma|Perkele.}} You're not one of mine. Who the crap are you, cat, and what are you doing in my bed?


Coraline didn't stick around to see how that turned out, and instead continued in, watching as the lanky bandit set Jess down on the bed with considerable care. He backed out quickly as she took a seat next to Jess.
The cat doesn't respond.


The girl was in poor shape, and while Coraline wasn't a doctor, Agata's comments about her being a witch hadn't been entirely wrong. Not that she was a witch, of course, but she did have a little magic to her name: the thing with understanding languages, the ability to sometimes move things with her mind, the ability to heal with a touch. To do so was draining, of course, and it made the voices worse, so she usually tried to avoid it, but in this case it looked to be necessary.
Coraline gets up and grabs the brandy, drinking some straight out of the bottle, and the voices die down to a murmur. Then she pulls on some proper clothes and heads into the kitchen.


She finished off the bottle from before in the hopes of staving off the voices ahead of time, then placed her hands on Jess's chest, feeling for damage, and concentrating on fixing it. Ribs, organs, bruises, more organs. Fear. So much fear and confusion. She didn't know how to fix the fear, though, and let it be for now. In the back of Coraline's mind, voices mumbled incoherently, rising to the fore.
The kitchen is empty, the stove cold. A few ash demons are floating over the wood, like little puffs of ash.


The girl's eyes fluttered open, then she saw Coraline. "Lyra?" she said, sitting up. "Where am I?"
Coraline shoos the ash demons aside and grabs a chunk of bread.


With some effort, Coraline pushed the voices back, and glanced momentarily back to the door. Mrs. Eslinger and the bandits were nowhere to be seen. "You're home, dear. You're safe," she heard herself say, and after a moment of hesitation, took Jess's hand, adding, "Can you tell me what happened?"
CORALINE
Jess? Hello? Anyone here?


Jess's grip tightened, but she just looked away.
Another cat, THIMBLE, is sprawled at the base of the step into the tavern proper looking very angry, and Coraline steps over him without even paying attention.


"It's all right," Coraline said. "None of this is your fault. What they did says nothing about you. It happened, and you're still here, and you're going to be fine. We just need to go through it so you can begin to heal, and put it behind you."
The tavern proper is almost completely empty, the floor swept, the tables stacked (aside from one missing a leg and nailed to the ceiling as a rather peculiar hazard). The shutters are open, sunlight streaming in.


"I can't," Jess said quietly. "I just see them... and I can't. I can't. I can't."
An ELVEN TOURIST is seated primly at the bar, patiently waiting.


"It's all right," Coraline repeated. "Tell me what you see."
Coraline hurries over to the elf and give him an uncertain look.


The elf eyes her curiously.


CORALINE
Uh, how long have you been waiting?


After much wheedling, Coraline got the story out of Jess in pieces, doing everything she could to reassure the girl along the way. When it was done, Jess seemed calmer, though she wouldn't quite let go of Coraline's hand just yet; Coraline eventually used this to drag her into the kitchen and 'borrow' a late lunch for the both of them in the form of some fruit, sandwiches, and wine.
ELVEN TOURIST
Oh, not long, an hour or two.


While they were eating, Mrs. Eslinger ran in with a large knife and dropped it on the table. She looked exhausted, and she had blood on her clothes. Their eyes met, and the mingled rage and fear were palpable. Suddenly Coraline realised what must have happened, started to run for the door, then stopped and picked up Agata and stuffed the cat into Jess's arms.  
CORALINE
Riiight. Sorry. Day gal should have been here, but apparently isn't...


"This is Agata," Coraline said. "Hold onto her for a bit. She likes her ears scratched."
Coraline heads back into the store room, and is back a moment later with a small cloth package in hand. She cuts off the ribbon and passes it to the elf.


Then she ran outside, grabbing her staff on the way.
ELVEN TOURIST
(opening the package)
Your day gal, does this happen often?


"Er..." Jess said.
CORALINE
Not at all. But if it does, and there's noone here, just ring the bell to get me, will you? That's what it's for.


Agata purred.
The elf pulls out a weird piece of bread, sniffs it deeply, and smiles serenely, closing his eyes.


CORALINE
I'ma go see if I can find her. Need anything else before I go?


The elf starts nibbling at the bread and shakes his head very slightly.


Coraline spotted the two bandits immediately. They were hard to miss. They were running right at her, with swords. She walked toward them, then gave her staff a mighty swing and drove a bladed wing into the nearer one's side as she skirted past him, yanking it out and around as he fell, shooting the other in the face.
CORALINE
Right.


The one she'd chopped at tried to get up, but she just shot him too, this time requiring significantly less luck because this time she had time to actually stop and aim.
The tortoiseshell pads over as Coraline moves to head out, and she picks up the cat and hefts her at the elf.


When she looked up, Mrs. Eslinger was in the doorway, smiling coldly.
CORALINE
Is this your cat?


The elf turns to look, and then shakes his head again, again very slightly.




It turned out Mrs. Eslinger had stabbed the other bandit to death near the road before running away from the other two with her deceptively long legs. He lay there, in a pool of his own blood, several holes in his chest and abdomen.
EXT. Molstead - morning


"They deserved worse," Mrs. Eslinger said.
It's a bright summer morning. The sky is mostly clear. Loud birds are everywhere, on the buildings, in the trees, being loud. Some townsfolk are out and about, doing townsfolk things.


Coraline just nodded. Considering what the bandits had done, she couldn't really argue. "When they found out she wasn't likely worth ransom, they... well, I've healed her physical wounds," she said, "but her mind will take more. You're going need to be there for her. Be supportive."
Coraline holds up the cat like a sack of potatoes.


"I know how to take care of my own daughter," Mrs. Eslinger said darkly.
CORALINE
(to the cat)
Any of this yours? Hmm?


Coraline nodded again. "Of course. This sort of trauma can be difficult, however, for everyone involved. To come to terms with what has happened, she'll need your help in order to heal and move on. Whatever you do, don't judge her for it, but especially don't let anyone else." She hoped this was the right approach. She wasn't sure. Her classes on psychology had only fleetingly touched on this sort of thing, and quite frankly she hadn't actually been paying attention in the first place for most of it. She wished she had been. She wished she'd not spent most of the lectures playing videogames. She wished she could focus better now, too.
The cat hangs limply in her hands. This is decidedly un-catlike, and yet at the same time, incredibly catlike.


"You seen a lot of this?" Mrs. Eslinger asked, interrupting her mental tangent.
CORALINE
(irritably)
Great. Do you see Jess anywhere? She should be here by now.


"Some." While she hadn't exactly, trying to explain the internet didn't seem like the best idea at the moment. She indicated the dead bandit in front of them instead and asked, "What do you want to do about him?"
CAT
Who?


"Burn it. Burn them all."
Coraline lowers the cat and eyes her suspiciously, but then decides not to press the matter.


Coraline obliged with a quick staff blast to the body, then headed back for the other two. The staff could fire in a lot of different ways, from pinpoint shots to explosive bursts; these one set the bodies on fire and burned quite thoroughly.


Jess stood nearby, watching, with Agata still in her arms.
EXT. Molstead market square - slightly later morning


The market is a messy combination of open square with stalls and buildings around with shops, with folks pitching and buying and just passing through in a horrible mish-mash. The folks are mostly human, but a few elves and stuff are mixed in.


Coraline is still holding the cat, and now has a small HAMSTERY GUY following her very, very closely repeatedly asking her what day it is. She attempts to ignore him.


Coraline hurried into town again, the afternoon sun pushing down on her neck and shoulders. Her head was pounding, voices rattling around almost as chaotically as her scattered thoughts. She was too drunk, too warm, and as she pulled her white-blonde braid loose for a little more shade, she glanced to the woods again. The trees looked quite odd at this level of inebriation, and it was also only a matter of time before the bandits caught on and did something about it, especially when the three failed to return.
HAMSTERY GUY
What day is it?


But she couldn't deal with that just yet. First she needed help. Or something. She was a little fuzzy what the hell was going on at all anymore, quite frankly, and realised vaguely that all the extra vodka and wine must have finally hit her head.
The hamstery guy circles around to follow her from the other side, except now he's actually slightly in front of her.


Keller's place was on the outskirts of the town proper. Coraline didn't bother to knock, just pushed inside and slammed the door behind her, then stood there blankly while she tried to figure out what she was even doing there.
Coraline attempts to refrain from punching him in the face with a cat.


Finally she realised she had no idea. And Kit, Keller's apprentice, was staring at her from the table, where he'd apparently been researching some spell or other, books and papers all over. And there was a stuffed moose hanging from the ceiling in the corner. That hadn't been there before.
HAMSTERY GUY
What day is it?


"Need something?" Kit asked.
A blacksmith, BARNEY, spots Coraline from near the smithy and scoots over, holding a scabbarded sword, just as Coraline is about to shove the cat claws-first into the hamstery guy's face.


"Is that a moose?" Coraline asked.
BARNEY
Lyra! I've got this sword. You know I've got this sword. It's got your name written all over it, and for the absolute steal of a price of five silver it's all yours, all yours!


"I have no idea," Kit said. "Not a sheep, though. Nolan checked."
He holds the sword up in her face.


"Why?" Coraline said.
CORALINE
(pushing the sword away with the cat)
Now, look, I really don't...


Kit shrugged. Nolan was the town's resident insane sheep-obsessed kid. Everything was either sheep or irrelevant to him. Nobody knew why, and as a result nobody tended to know why he did much of anything, either.
She's interrupted by the hamstery guy pushing Barney aside and getting in her face.


"Miss Zidane! So good to see you again!" Keller exclaimed, bustling into the room, his fancy wizard robes flowing hugely around his ageing frame. "You've finally come to your senses, yes?" He bustled around some more, continuing, "Of course I can only help you so much so far out here, but-"
HAMSTERY GUY
What day is it?


Coraline interrupted him by putting two fingers over his mouth when he got too close. "I think I need to use your alchemy lab," she said, and then went in without waiting for a response.
CAT
(hissing)
The day you die.


"What?" He hurried in after her, but she was already going through the compounds.
The cat slides out of Coraline's hands and settles around her shoulders, instead.


She selected a shell for a bomb, lined it with some red stuff, lined that with a tissue, and then mixed in a few more substances intended for the actual reaction. She wasn't sure, but if the things she had mixed turned out to be what she thought they might be, the result was probably going to be incredibly toxic.  
Barney pulls the hamstery guy aside again in order to reclaim his rightful place in Coraline's face. The hamstery guy attempts to retaliate, and Barney elbows him in the throat.


"Wait, that's dangerous!" he insisted. "You shouldn't just be mixing things like that!"
Foiled, the hamstery guy sidles off to bother someone else.


She finished closing the thing, then turned and gave him a rather sceptical look. "You don't even know," she said flatly, and then stopped, brightening. "And neither do I!"
BARNEY
Five silver. Once in a lifetime deal. Just five, and it's all yours!


He gave her a worried look, but she just dropped some coins in his hand.
Coraline glares at him with the full force of Finnish Death.


"For the supplies," she said. "I... think."
Barney smiles at her disarmingly.


"Look, this isn't that simple, Miss Zidane," Keller said, pushing the money back at her.
CORALINE
If I wanted to buy a sword, I would have commissioned one and you know it.


She ignored it and brushed past him, and the money just wound up on the floor as a result.
Barney gives her his best crestfallen look. Coraline continues to glare at him.


He hurried after her. "You should be learning proper magic," he insisted, "not... barging in here and mixing gods know what."
The cat watches curiously from Coraline's shoulders.


"Yeah, that's my job," Kit pointed out.
BARNEY
(breaking into a wide smile)
Fine, take it as a gift, then. Made for you, perfectly balanced, utter steal!


"I don't have time for that," she said vaguely, then muttered again, "Time."
Barney bustles around her and fastens the sword to her belt, then hops back and nods.


"Well, yes, but..." he sighed. "Well at least take a mask, if you're seriously planning to detonate that thing," he said, throwing a gas mask after her.
Coraline continues to glare at where he was for a moment, and then just looks confused.


Somehow, she actually caught it.
CORALINE
What?


BARNEY
Aye, yes, that's the look. Utterly dashing, the lady wizard.


Before Coraline can respond, Barney backs away entirely with a weird swagger, not unlike that of a used car salesman, still nodding, and retreats back into a bunch of passersby.


She headed back up the road, passing some kids along the way. They were chucking pinecones at each other. One of them chucked a cone at Coraline and it bounced off her head. Someone who might have been their mum yelled something unintelligible.
CORALINE
What... just happened?


She tossed the bomb into the air as she went. Toss, catch. Toss, catch. One-handed one ball juggling, the simplest form, not even juggling at all. Instant death if she dropped it, probably.
Her hand falls to the sword, which has somehow been added very neatly with another belt opposite her bag.


Everything was fuzzy. The previously oppressive heat just felt like butterflies, now.
CAT
You got yourself a sword.


CORALINE
Thank you, Captain Obvious. You're real helpful, aren't you?


CAT
Meh.


She ran into two more bandits on the the road. One of them pointed at her and said something. The other drew his sword. Coraline swung her staff around its strap with her free hand and shot him, and the first started to run at her and she shot him too.
Coraline heads over to some various folk to ask around about Jess, though nothing really comes of it. She buys some lunch while she's at it.


She stared at them as they lay on the ground, collapsed, smoking, lifeless. She was too drunk. She had thought she was too drunk before, but now it was really sinking in. She was too drunk now. She glanced at her hand. She was still holding the bomb, though she couldn't quite feel it anymore. She gave it an experimental squeeze and watched her hand as it squeezed the bomb slightly.
After, she heads off down the road.


Then she was walking again.


EXT. Molstead road - late morning


CORALINE
All right, cat, what's your deal, anwyay?


She pulled on the gas mask as she came out into the ruins. The bandits spotted her quickly. There were a lot of them. Several were pointing crossbows. Others had swords and axes. She was too drunk for crossbows. Swords and axes too, but especially crossbows. She threw the bomb at the lot of them and then dropped behind a section of wall.
CAT
Obviously I'm a cat.


Crossbow bolts whizzed overhead and thunked and plinged around her. The bomb exploded on impact with a hissy flpomph.
CORALINE
One that speaks. And has a sense of sarcasm.


There was yelling, coughing, footsteps coming toward her. She sat, back to the wall, clutching her head, until the last bandit stopped rolling around behind her.
The cat doesn't respond.


She poked her head over the wall for a look. None of them were moving, just collapsed bandits all over, with a particularly large swath of them where they'd fallen coming at her.
CORALINE
Why show up out of the blue? You even planning to stick around? Or are you some kind of alien or something trying to suck out my brain juices?


The bomb radius had been huge, the effects rapid and potent. All because of a little extra magic. The implications would have terrified her, had she been thinking straight. Instead she tried to count the bodies.
CAT
I'm a witch's cat. I needed a witch, and you seemed witchy.


She counted... she couldn't count. She got up to one. Then she lost count.
CORALINE
What, did something happen to your old witch?


Some part of her brain knew it wasn't necessarily safe to take the mask off, however, as she walked slowly between the bodies, fists raised, deliberately extending a finger for each one she passed. She ended up with all fingers up before even reaching the camp itself, and cursed a bit upon realising she didn't have enough fingers. Then she fished a pen out of her bag and just wrote all the numbers on her arm, going back through from the start, a new number for each one she passed, forgetting whether or not she'd already the fifth one, and then subsequently lost count again.
The cat purrs.


She tried again, this time shooting each one in the head as she went, small-calibre, adding tick marks next to the first five and then resuming the main count.
CORALINE
You got a name, then?


She ended up in the ruins on the other side of the camp, her arm covered in numbers. It was a lot of numbers. It was only twenty-nine. That wasn't good.
The cat purrs some more.


But there had also been three more that had died at the farm. And the two on the road. She added a few more numbers to her arm. That meant more than one bandit not accounted for.  
CORALINE
Cat, I got five cats already and I call them all 'cat', so please, something a bit more specific would be nice.


She looked around, swinging her head left and right as she tried to focus on the ruins and surrounding trees. Her field of view was... not good. Everything was swimming a bit. She had no idea where they might be. Unless the guy was in a tent. She was standing next to a tent.
The cat stretches out a leg and sticks a claw up Coraline's nose.


She pushed her way inside.
CAT
Maybe.


CORALINE
(removing the cat paw from her face)
Maybe?


Robert Earnsworth, more commonly known as Huge Bob, was not just a bandit, but a very successful bandit. This, he believed, was because he understood finer points of how the world worked - namely that pretty much every point was based on magnitude. Thus he made a point of being bigger, meaner, and scarier than everyone else. And richer. And fluffier. And warmer. Generally just more of everything.
CAT
I'm Agata.


It was for this that people called him Huge Bob.
CORALINE
Agata. Okay. Good. Do I look like a witch to you?


Huge Bob was too warm.
CAT
(purring)
They all think you're a wizard. It's the same thing, really.


He pulled his hat off with a sigh of relief, the sweat rolling down his brow. The woods were otherwise pleasant enough, but this was just uncomfortable.
CORALINE
(she sighs)
They also think I'm from Ord.


There was yelling from the direction of the camp, and his hands clenched around the hat. Something was going on back there. His axe was a few paces away, but he couldn't get up just yet.


"Always when I'm taking a shit!" he yelled to no-one in particular. He hoped no-one was around, anyway. His pants were literally down, and he'd gone this far out precisely to avoid having anyone around.
EXT. Eslinger farm - noonish


"Fucking shit," he added for emphasis.
Coraline comes up the road to find one of Jess's sisters, TEMMIE, mending the fence. Temmie stops and waves upon seeing Coraline.


The shit took its own time, in absolutely no hurry at all, despite all of Huge Bob's efforts.
The voices are getting louder again now, but Coraline just ignores them.


Finally he finished up his business, pulled up his pants, grabbed his axe, and hurried back toward the ruins, only hoping his men hadn't screwed things up too much this time.
The cat, AGATA, trots over and rubs against Temmie's legs.


He got back to find the camp silent, everyone on the ground, no explanation why. Aside from a couple, they all had holes in their head. Some were lying in pools of their own vomit. It looked as though many of them had been hurrying toward something in the direction of the main road, but whatever had taken them out had stopped them in their tracks.
TEMMIE
What brings you these ways?


"The fuck...?" he said, looking around, and coughed. In all his years of banditry, he had been up against many things - men, monsters, magic, more monsters - but never had he seen anything quite like this. Poison, maybe? Some sort of disease? But how could it have been so quick?
CORALINE
Hey Temmie. Was Jess coming to work today?


He backed away, and nearly tripped over a man. This wasn't right. Nothing about this was right.  
TEMMIE
Oh, aye. She left same as usual, hours back. Why?
(confused)
Did she not... Lyra?


CORALINE
She was here and then she left?


TEMMIE
Er, yes.


The tent proved to be unoccupied, though a lumpy pile of bedding had required closer inspection, which is to say Coraline went and poked it a bunch of times before it finally sunk in that it indeed wasn't a body at all and was instead just a lumpy pile of bedding. That was a bit disappointing.
CORALINE
Right. So clearly something happened between here and there and there and... I need a new brain.


Finally she pulled the tent flap open, managed to leave slightly more gracefully than she'd entered, and proceeded to attempt to look around. This attempt was almost immediately interrupted by an unusually upright, large, and hatted bandit nearly backing into her.
Coraline turns and leaves without saying anything more, and Agata pounces after her.


"Agh!" she yelped, jumping back.
TEMMIE
Hey, hey, wait!


He spun about in surprise, taking his axe with him in what turned into an enormous cleave that she only barely managed to dodge, rolling away, landing on her back. She was definitely too drunk for giant bandits with huge axes and fuzzy hats.


"What the fuck?!" he yelled, advancing on her, though it sounded muffled. He raised the axe for another swing, swinging, bringing it down.  
INT. Molstead Temple - noonish


Coraline had no time to get up and run, no space to dodge, only enough to block with the staff at the very last second. The rod bounced against her breast, the force of the blow resonating through the bones of her arms. He pulled his blade down further, trying to slide it to her unprotected stomach, and she pushed it away enough that it sank into the ground by her crotch instead, pinning down her skirt.
Coraline pulls the doors open rather forcefully, causing them to swing open to either side of her while she stands there dramatically. There is no sign of Jess.


She realised he was screaming at her, mostly insults, instructions to die, things he would do to her. It lost coherence as the dregs of her consciousness wondered why the hell she felt so cold.
Agata ambles inside and sits down in front of the main large statue of Azorres, peering up at it.


Then she pulled away, ripping her skirt, kicking the axe back, out of his hands, out of her way. She rose and spun, swinging around the staff like an axe of her own, the sharpened edges of the phoenix' wings singing through the air. The bandit jumped back, avoiding the swing, but overbalanced in the process, and the second upward swing caught him right in the throat, knocking his head back, knocking him over, knocking Coraline over too in the opposite direction.
Coraline hops inside right as the doors are swinging closed again and nearly gets hit in the foot by one of them, and scoots up behind the cat.


Agata swishes her tail.


CORALINE
(getting out a bottle of vodka)
Hey statue.


Coraline awoke to crickets. It was evening, that crazy time of day when things had finally cooled down, but the sun was still hovering a couple hours from nightfall proper.
STATUE OF AZORRES
Welcome back, wayfarer. How are you holding up?


She was still alive.
CORALINE
Miserably. Like a miser. I'm miser-able.


Suddenly she sat up, looking around quickly. Had she missed any? But from the look of it everything was just bodies. She pulled off the mask and took in the sweet, cool, foetid air. Her head was clearer now, and as she got up entirely, using the staff as a crutch, she realised she was splattered with dried blood, and almost fell over again. She had to do something about all this. These bodies. So many bodies. Best not to feed the bears, or whatever, and she didn't want to waste anything the bandits might have stocked up, either. Weapons, supplies... she went over each corpse, as well as the tents and containers, gathering up any decent armour and weapons she could find, as well as trinkets, coins, knick-knacks.
STATUE OF AZORRES
It is a difficult burden you carry.


She grabbed the bandit leader's hat, too, while she was at it.
CORALINE
What else am I going to do with it, drop it?
(she takes a drink)
So I'm looking for Jess. She went missing somewhere between her parents' farm and actually showing up to work. Where would I be looking if I were looking where I ought to be looking?


It could sell for a lot, and her bag, much larger on the inside than it was on the outside, held it all quite easily.
STATUE OF AZORRES
You have your answer there. Follow the path between farm and town, and perhaps the clues will reveal themselves.


Then she burned them all, a single staff blast each, the stench of flesh rotting in the summer heat mingling with the stench of burning.
Coraline nods, but doesn't go, holding the bottle like a shield.


Agata peers up at her curiously.


CORALINE
(quietly)
And if I'm dying... what would I be doing to stop?


When she got to the road, she did the same thing with the two bodies there, though someone had already helpfully pulled those to the side.  
STATUE OF AZORRES
You're getting worse.


She needed to get back to town, to her inn. It was already late, and while her staff could generally manage just fine without her, she still preferred to be around, especially when they were already down one employee. But she also needed get back to the Eslingers as to what had happened. And she needed dinner. And a bath. And a new skirt.  
CORALINE
It's slight, but I can feel myself slipping more and more. I thought if I didn't use magic, maybe I'd be okay. It'd stop. But it's winning. Slowly it's winning.


For now she settled for turning the skirt sideways - this made it look almost intentional, like some fancy fantasy garment, though it was a tad skimpy for her taste. But it was also a tad less stupid than having her panties practically sticking out.
STATUE OF AZORRES
Four thousand years and there has been no cure to the Death of Souls. You know it will not simply go away.


Coraline headed back to the Eslinger farm first. It was closest. Mrs. Eslinger hugged her and thanked her and invited her to dinner, but Coraline just waved at the assorted kids and extended family and excused herself and her stink. Several of the younger ones giggled at that, which, though she couldn't actually smell herself at this point, confirmed her suspicions that there was basically no way that she could possibly not stink after everything that had apparently happened.
CORALINE
But what can I do?


STATUE OF AZORRES
Find Jess. One problem at a time.


AGATA
You're oddly intelligent, for a statue.


She got to the temple a few minutes later, finding Davis, one of the priests, lighting the candles at the various shrines.
STATUE OF AZORRES
I will take that as a compliment, little one.


He looked up and smiled at her as she entered, then looked a bit confused, his nose crinkling, as she made a bee-line for the statue.
CORALINE
Cat, after some of the people I've dealt with, I'd say it's oddly intelligent for anything, really.


"Oy, statue," Coraline said, her hands on her hips. "So I just slaughtered a bunch of bandits. Remind me, why are you helping me, again?"
AGATA
I thought you were going to quit calling me 'cat'.


"What?" Davis said, behind her.
CORALINE
Dammit cat, I call all my cats 'cat'.


The long, low voice of the statue echoed throughout the chamber. "And what would have happened had you not?"
Agata peers up at Coraline imperiously.


"I don't know," Coraline said blankly, in what was mostly not a GIR voice, though only mostly.
Coraline narrows her eyes.


"It is likely that they would have come after you and Jessica both," the statue said, each word slow and precise, "on the way, laying waste to the outer farms, and even perhaps burning down the entire village. Then they would only have continued - onto other towns and other innocent souls. But you stopped them. You did the only thing that was certain, though you cannot know the price."
CORALINE
Sassmaster.


Coraline glared at the statue, but then Davis put a comforting hand on her shoulder, startling her. In return she glanced back and gave him a freezing eyeful of death.
Agata closes her eyes contentedly.


Davis laughed nervously, backing away.
Coraline scoops up Agata.


Then she admitted, "Okay, I guess I mostly just came here because you lot have the only decent baths in town."
CORALINE
And seriously, thanks, statue. You're a wonderful replacement for a working brain.


"Blood washes off, but the memory of what you have done will not," the statue said, though the voice had changed, taking on a heavier tone. This was the god himself, it seemed. "You carry the deathgod's coin for a reason. These are the decisions you make; I can only give you the truth you already know."


Coraline smiled humourlessly, and said, "Well, that's what sleep is for." She waggled a finger at her ear. "Brain washes itself out right proper if you just let it."
EXT. Molstead outskirts - noonish


Coraline strolls back down the road with all the care of an angry zamboni, Agata padding ahead, oppressive heat and sunlight bearing down on the both of them. Some mushroom sprites bounce alongside the road, keeping pace until one of them suddenly bursts into flame, and the others scatter. Heat waves rise off the road. Bugs buzz in the trees.


Coraline is now much more drunk, and the voices practically silent, drowned out by the resulting fuzziness.


The bath was absolutely wonderful, though it didn't quite get the numbers off her arm, and she also wound up a bit disappointed that she hadn't thought to bring any clean clothes. Or even a spare skirt without massive rips in it.
She stops at a bend and sights down a footpath heading into the trees through the mostly-empty bottle, using it like a telescope with the lid off, which is completely ineffective as she cannot actually see anything through the bottom. Some of the remaining vodka splashes on her face. She blinks, and dumps the rest on her head.


Ultimately she wound up just washing the clothes too and putting them on wet, enjoying the cool as they dried in the evening breeze on the way back into town.
CORALINE
Damn. Alcohol is lovely in this heat.


Kit was outside Keller's place telling some of his friends some plan or other of his. He was always doing that, it seemed, and Jora, of course, as the oldest one there, was sceptical. "I dunno," she was saying. "I don't think it's such a good idea."
AGATA
Smooth.


"It's a totally good idea!" Kit insisted.
CORALINE
(indicating the trail)
There's some ruins out this way. Maybe... I dunno.


"Will there be sheep?" Nolan asked.
AGATA
Do you have any leads at all?


"Yeah, maybe," Kit said, and threw his arms out. "There could be anything!"
CORALINE
None whatsoever.


"That's the spirit," Coraline said as she passed, despite having absolutely no idea what they were talking about.
AGATA
Do you have anywhere you need to be?


Kit nodded in agreement.
CORALINE
Nope.


She got a few comments from the townsfolk for her clothes - not just for the ripped skirt, but also the bloodstains. Summer was a terrible time of year for bloodstains. The absolute worst.
AGATA
Well.


CORALINE
Right.


They head down the path.


Jess was tending bar when Coraline finally got back to the inn, Agata sitting on a shelf behind her. The place was fairly busy, so the girl had her hands full, but she came over as Coraline took a seat on a spare stool.


"You a customer now?" Jess said, smiling.
EXT. Elven ruins - early afternoon


Coraline put the bandit's hat on the bar in front of her, and Jess picked it up, staring at it.
The ruins are a large quasi-clearing in the woods, the only remainder of an ancient elven city. Mostly the white stone blocks and columns lie scattered throughout the ferns and grass, trees growing through and over them, with only the odd wall or pillar rising against the green, clusters of buildings now almost totally reclaimed by the forest. Only one building stands out as intact - a solitary Edifice, still sealed after all these centuries, and nearly untouched by storm or moss.


"Did you..." the girl began, then tried again. "Are they..." She looked at Coraline hopefully.
Coraline comes out on the path, looks around, climbs onto a particularly large white block, and glares out over the ruins.


"Yeah, all dead," Coraline said. Then she added under her breath, "I think." Not that it would likely matter much - after what had happened, it seemed unlikely any survivors would come back.
An alarming amount of spider webs glare back at her from some of the trees on the far end.


Jess just stared at her, lost for words.
CORALINE
(squinting unhelpfully)
...gogs?


Coraline gave her a moment, then just said, "Since you're there, pour me a shalott, will you?" While Jess hurried to fetch up a mug and bottle, she added, "I didn't expect you to come in."
A beige and gloopy PORRIDGE gloops past Agata on the ground, and she hisses at it.


"You know, it's weird, but I just feel safe here," Jess responded, pouring out a very small amount of the bizarre oniony liquor.
Coraline hops down and heads over into the webby trees.


"How's that weird? We've got Dors." Dors was the bouncer. He was an orcan, a native of Ord, and quite large, and the one thing he never did was quite fit in. At the moment he was striking poses at one of the patrons.


"Well, there is that," Jess said.
INT. Gog tunnels - afternoon


Dors gave them a big smile from across the room.
It's webby, and a bit messy. There's no real path at first, but then one seems to grow almost organically out of bits of web.


"Will you be all right handling for the night?" Coraline asked. "I think I... kind of need to pass out now."
As Coraline and Agata progress, the webs get thicker.


Jess picked up the suddenly empty mug and gave it a dubious look, but nodded.
At one point she sees a gog hanging off a bunch of webbing on a tree. It looks a bit like a large dog-sized spider, and appears to be asleep.


"Great," Coraline said, and wobbled her way into the kitchen, nearly ran over Malla, the cook, and with great care, stumbled out the other side, making her way to her room in what was probably the most roundabout way possible.
At another, she passes a tree with a large circular hole cut exactingly through the trunk, except the hole is almost as big as the trunk is, and the top of the tree is held up almost entirely by webbing. Through the hole is shoved a door.


== 2: Hunter and prey ==
She continues on, and the webs thicken. The trees are swathed in webbing, until everything is covered.


{{q|Events do not occur apart and singly. Anything worth the hunting has a cost.}}
Ahead, the webs converge entirely, leaving only a single round tunnel, maybe a metre in diameter. At its entrance are two more gogs, also asleep.


The hunter stopped amidst the white stone ruins and looked around carefully. People came here often - to camp, to play, to study - and he noted the signs disinterestedly. The norm was not his concern. If everything were normal, he would not have been here.
Agata hops up onto Coraline's shoulders.


He nudged the ashes of an old fire and kicked aside some empty bottles, and then he saw the marks. Scorched earth, the scars of intense, localised heat. What could have done this? Always so precise, so distinct, the same here as it had been in Seras and Telegrin, and in Kalona before that. He was getting closer to whatever it was. He would need to be careful now.
Coraline walks up and pokes one of them.


The poked gog startles and legs at the other gog, which also startles and legs back. They prod at each other a bit with legs and then slow, and then stop. After a moment they collapse back onto each other, vibrating.


Coraline scoots past them carefully into the hole and walk-crawls very awkwardly through it.


He got into town in the late afternoon. It was autumn, so the day was cool, and the night would come soon now. The market bustled as townsfolk prepared for the annual Harvest Festival, but he merely stopped in a corner and observed.
AGATA
(next to Coraline's ear)
I hope you know what you're doing.


Laughter and conversation drifted throughout the square. Bright leaves blew past. Brown leaves scurried across the ground.
CORALINE
I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing, or what's going on. Gogs aren't... this isn't what they do.


Passerby greeted the hunter cheerfully. A few asked what brought him to town. A few others avoided him, concerned by his aspect and appearance, moving away in hushed conversation. He paid it all little mind, watching instead for the signs he knew well. A little madness. A little fear. Eyes not quite right.
AGATA
Looks like they did.


One man was going from stall to stall, poking his head at the other folks, asking questions. Insistent, pressing, catching the hunter's eye as he did the rounds. Then the man noticed the hunter, too, and hurried over.
CORALINE
Mostly they're just an annoyance. Steal some sheep. Web over a door. That sort of thing.


"What time is it?" the man asked.
AGATA
Mostly?


The hunter glanced up. "Quarter to five, I s'pose?"
The tunnel abruptly ends, and Coraline spills out into an oddly circular chamber, completely bound in spun white webbing. The ceiling glows with diffused light. A couple of other circular tunnels are scattered about the walls. A weird sweet, sticky smell permeates the space.


"What time is it?" he asked again, more insistently this time, and this time the hunter didn't answer, merely waited.
It is completely empty, aside from the centre. In the centre is a solitary wooden door, standing upright without a frame or even hinges. It is in perfect shape. It has a knob.


Finally the man narrowed his eyes and headed off to the next person to pester.
Coraline stares at it blankly for a moment.


CORALINE
I don't even want to know.


She scoots very carefully around the edge of the chamber, keeping her back to the wall, watching the door carefully until she gets to the next tunnel.


The Molstead Inn had twelve tables, but one was missing a leg and as a result some drunks had gotten the bright idea to nail it to the ceiling at some point, so in practice the inn really only had eleven usable tables and a hazard sticking out of the ceiling. Coraline wasn't entirely sure, but she suspected that one of the drunks in question might have been her.
AGATA
And yet you're continuing.


Nobody ever mentioned it unless they ran into it.
Coraline gives the door one last worried look before scooting into the new tunnel and hurrying away.


For now, three of the tables were occupied - two by locals enjoying their evenings with pitchers of ale, and one by three cats sitting on it, with Coraline in one of the chairs. The cats were all currently engaged in staring down Coraline, who was for her part taking a drink every time one of them blinked.


It was a very slow game, and she had been at it for most of the afternoon, though she had originally sat down to draw. Then Tress had sat on her drawing, Thimble had slid off Agata regardless, and the entire plan was ruined. So instead she simply watched them.
EXT. Gog clearing - afternoon


Cal, the new waiter, never commented, instead keeping her properly supplied for the duration and tending to everyone else who came in in the meantime - clearly he was a keeper.
This tunnel opens up into a clearing that is much less webbed over, with only odd swaths netting down from branches, and a decent carpet underfoot. Old trees tower overhead. Afternoon sun trickles down in motes of dust. It is surprisingly cool.


More townsfolk came in, as well as a few out-of-towners around for the festival, and by the time the evening had settled over the area, the place was full and bustling, leaving many folks standing between the tables, laughing, chattering, no room to sit. It was quite loud. Food and drink were bussed around. Jess was tending bar - the girl had recovered quite well over the past couple months, as it turned out - and Dors at the door.
Coraline is sobering up a bit as they come out, but the voices are still quiet.


Nobody took the other seats at the cats' table.
Gogs are all over, mostly in groups of 3-10. The nearest group are gathered around a bunch of doors, all fairly beaten up. One of the gogs pokes a door with a stick, then drops the stick and starts jumping on the door in aggravation. Another pulls a door upright and then, along with two others, headbutts it.


Thimble blinked.
Coraline watches curiously for a moment.


Coraline took a drink.
CORALINE
You know you need hinges, right?


Tress yawned.
The gogs all freeze exactly where they are: the ones with the doors, quite a few others just hanging out in the clearing, a large group doing some sort of choreographed march around the perimeter, and also a smaller group holding up paper signs around a very confused looking JESS.


Someone splashed their drink on Agata and she put an ear back in discontent. Coraline scratched her own ear absent-mindedly.
A few of the gogs in the paper signs group are also holding sticks. One appears to have been in the process of poking Jess with its stick, but is frozen mid-poke.


Tress yawned some more.
JESS
(also not moving)
Lyra?


Someone yelled at Coraline asking what was up with the cats.
Coraline threads her way through the groups of gogs, trying not to run into too many, but they don't respond even when she does.


She held up a hand signaling to wait.
CORALINE
You okay? Kind of need you at the inn. We do have elves.


Tress continued to yawn.
JESS
Um... yeah, mostly, I guess?


Tress finally finished yawning and blinked.
Jess pushes aside the stick uncertainly, and then pushes through the sign-gogs. The signs say things like 'door problem' and 'what knob' and 'show force??', and they are all very consistently upside down. She hurries over to Coraline and collapses into the older woman's arms, sobbing.


Coraline took a drink, then yelled back, "What?"
CORALINE
(patting Jess awkwardly on the shoulder a couple of times)
There, uh, there?


"I said what are you doing?" the guy yelled. He was an out-of-towner, but she didn't recognise him as any of the ones who'd come in earlier. His attire marked him as a fighter, of sorts - light armour, well-made - but his swords drew the eye - one steel, one silver. A hunter.
Jess takes a few minutes to calm down, during which Coraline slowly pulls/nudges her toward the edge of the clearing. In the meantime, the gogs around appear to do absolutely nothing.


"Drinking," Coraline told him over the roar.
JESS
They kept poking me. They seemed to really want me to help them with their doors. Except they couldn't explain very well. They just have signs and broken doors everywhere, and then they ran out of paper, and I don't even know. Lyra, what is going on?


He raised an eyebrow, then asked, "Mind if I sit?"
CORALINE
They wanted help with the doors, apparently.


She gestured for him to go ahead, then took another drink when Thimble blinked again. She was finally starting to get a bit drunker; while it was only plum wine, the cats were getting a bit blinky amidst all the ruckus and smoke. Aside from Agata, who had only blinked once since the morning.
Coraline looks around at the motionless gogs. There seem to be fewer now.


"You look like you own the place," the guy said. "Table to yourself, only some cats on it..."
CORALINE
We should probably get out of here. If they let us.


"I do own the place," Coraline said. "Aside from the cats. The cats own me."
JESS
What did you do?


"Oh," he said. Then he added, "The name's Dalric. Dalric of Forst. You?"
CORALINE
Uh...


"Lyra," she said.
AGATA
She mentioned hinges.


A waitress set a pitcher of ale and mug on the table in front of the hunter, carefully avoiding the cats. While the gal was there, he ordered himself some dinner.
A nearby gog collapses.


"Got any rooms, then?" he asked a bit later.
Jess jumps, and winds up behind Coraline, clinging to her shoulder.


"Should be one left. Twenty silver a night," she said, watching Agata carefully. The calico seemed to be closing her eyes very, very slowly. "That also includes breakfast if there's any left by the time you come down."
Coraline turns around, pulling Jess with her.


"And if there isn't?"
All the gogs that had been behind them are gone.


"Then it really depends on who's tending the kitchen," Coraline said, moving her cup very, very slowly toward her mouth in anticipation.
JESS
What? They're... They're...


Then, against all expectation, Tress blinked. Surprised, Coraline looked back to Agata, but the cat's eyes were normal again. She'd missed the blink, if there had even been one.
CORALINE
Meh.


Just to be safe, she took two drinks and twitched an eye at Agata.
Coraline marches off into the woods in what she hopes is the general direction of the ruins, or at least town, and Jess follows closely, not letting go of Coraline's sleeve.


The guy waited until she seemed to be done, then asked, "Why so much?"


"Festival," Coraline explained. "Everyone from the outlying farms is coming in and we've only got so much space. If you need cheaper there's folks who'll let you a loft around town, though."
EXT. Molstead woods - afternoon


"No, I understand," he said.
Coraline and Jess get back out into the open woods without too much trouble, but an odd stillness follows them. A disquieting quiet.


She nodded and explained that Jess could actually get him set up with a room.
Coraline grumbles irritably and draws her sword, and Agata climbs around onto the opposite shoulder for a better perch. The name 'Lyra Zidane' is written down the blade in flowing patterns, with engraved leaves dancing out around it. The whole design comes across in surprisingly good taste.


The game continued while he finished his dinner. Tress blinked twice. Thimble just glared with his perpetually angry face. Agata stuck out her tongue and then forgot to pull it the entire way back in.
JESS
What is it?


Finally, the hunter said, "So I see what you're doing. ''Why'' are you doing it?"
CORALINE
I don't want to alarm you, but I think we're being followed.


Coraline glanced up. "Why not?" she said, then took another drink as Thimble closed his eyes and rolled over.
A bush shudders nearby.


He gave her a sceptical look.
CORALINE
Definitely being followed.


She shrugged, indicating the half-finished sketch of a very angry-looking Thimble-atop-Agata. "I was waiting for a shipment. And they were there." She paused, then added, "Guess it'll be in tomorrow, from the look of it."
JESS
Run?


He nodded, sort of satisfied, then asked her about the town, how things were, what people tended to do around the place, how the preparations for the festival were going. She told him this and that, things were good though the threat of the war loomed overhead even now, place was largely farmsteads and tradesmen, preparations were going. Lots to do.
CORALINE
We don't even know who it is. Maybe it's someone who could tell us which way to run.


In turn, she asked him what brought him here, a professional monster hunter into the peaceful lands away from the fields of ruin.
JESS
What?


He asked how she'd known.
AGATA
She means to say we're lost.


"Silver sword," she said. She considered making a joke about similar-looking metals, but couldn't think of anything funny that wasn't a pun on the word 'zinc'. Which wouldn't have been funny to anyone else.
CORALINE
I would never say that. But if I would, well, yeah. We're lost.
(loudly)
Hello we need directions can you help us?


He nodded again, and said, "Towns got bounties, too. Oughtn't neglect them when there's lives at stake here same as everywhere else."
The trees rustle overhead, and leaves drift down.


"Well, we ain't got any," Coraline said, then took another drink when Thimble slid off the table. Then she realised that that hadn't been a blink at all. She frowned and looked to see where the cat had gone, but he was already lost in a sea of legs.
A scuttling skitters in the underbrush around, over the hillocks, behind the trees.


"None at all?"
The first few gogs appear, running toward them, and then gogs are pouring in from every direction, over the ground, covering it. The trees shake, and more gogs come down those, from all sides, all around, converging on Coraline and Jess.


"Naw," she said. "We had some lurkers a few weeks back, but the kids took care of those."
Jess clings to Coraline.


"Really."
The nearest gog bites at Coraline, and she stabs at it with the sword.


She shrugged slightly. "What they lack in organisation they make up for in enthusiasm, excessive research, and hitting things with sharp objects. And occasionally screaming. I hear Erry actually out-wailed a banshee one time."
The gog bites at the sword instead, to no effect. The other gogs all just sort of stop.


"Don't their parents mind?" He asked.
Confused, the gog bites at it again, but this has no more effect than the first time.


She shook her head, but was watching Tress suspiciously. "They're pretty responsible about it. Jora looks after them, and they've also got Nolan," she said. "If there is anything out there that is scarier than Nolan, we have yet to see it."
The gog hops backwards several metres, and then all the other gogs start converging on it, streaming around the two women, grouping, building a heap, piling up, and up, and up, until they have all just sort of conglomerated into a big, quivering conglomerate.


"Sounds like quite the fellow."
A gog tumbles off the side and rolls away, only to scamper back to the pile and climb back on.


"He's completely obsessed with sheep," Coraline said.
There is a very long, awkward pause as gog pile and humans face off. Coraline looks a bit creeped out. Jess just looks terrified, clinging to her.


Then Coraline lowers her sword very suddenly. Jess jumps.


CORALINE
Damn arm was getting tired.
(to the gog pile)
Hi. Gogs. Or whatever you call yourselves. Can you tell us which way to town?


To say that Nolan was obsessed with sheep was an understatement. He was not obsessed with sheep. It went deeper. Sheep were simply everything to him, his entire life, his calling, his purpose. Everything about them made him happy. His parents had no idea what to make of this, of course, but they were not sheep. Nolan understood. Only sheep could understand. Only sheep could provide.
There is a shuddering in the pile, and then one of the gogs in front hops forward slightly and pulls a stack of paper out of somewhere unspeakable.


There was a noise below him, and Nolan yawned and looked down at the noise that was not a sheep. It was instead Jora, a girl who probably would have qualified as a friend to someone who entirely comprehended the concept of friends, but that would have been someone else who was not Nolan. To Nolan, Jora was sword-person. The avenger. The guardian. Of not sheep.
It makes and holds up a sign. It reads, 'door problem'.


"Nolan," Jora was saying, "Please come down. I know you have your reasons for being up there, but your parents
CORALINE
are worried about you. Just come down, eat dinner with them, sleep in your bed for a night, and come back in the morning."
Really? We hadn't noticed.


Nolan frowned at her. There was a logic to it, he supposed. Bed was warm. He was hungry. He couldn't see much anyway. Tomorrow would be better. "Okay," he said, and dropped out of the tree.
The gog drops the paper and scribbles on another one, 'cannot into'.


He landed right next to Jora, his nose about two inches away from her elbow. She didn't even flinch.
CORALINE
(shaking her head)
No, this is not polandball.


This goes on for a bit, but it eventually unfolds, amidst many signs and drinks, that the door problem, specifically, is that the gogs cannot figure them out. As a result, the gogs have become obsessed with doors, stuck on how to get them open, how to get past them. So they kidnap humans, learn their language and how to write things down on paper to communicate, trying to get the humans to teach them how to door. But it doesn't work. The humans don't know what they mean, and then the gogs run out of paper. So then they need to break into humans' nests again, this time to get more paper. Except they can't, because doors are in the way, and they still can't get past them. They don't have the right appendages to use the knobs. They don't have the mass to just tear them off their hinges. Covering them with webbing does nothing. So they use other means. Throw Keith in through windows when they can. Tear the thatch off roofs and drop in when they can.


But inside are also doors.


Jora escorted Nolan back as the stars twinkled overhead, and wondered if this had anything to do with the riddle Kit had unearthed the other day. It had translated to something about 'the oldest key' for 'checking signs', and Nolan had just yelled "Boom" and run off. And then she'd found him in this tree. And then he'd remained in the tree the entire time since.
CORALINE
So... door problem.


Nolan, meanwhile, thought about sheep. And a few other things too, but mostly sheep.
The gog holds up the 'door problem' sign in agreement. Or possibly a new 'door problem' sign. There are a whole lot of signs on the ground now.


The pile also quivers in agreement, or something.


CORALINE
Right. I'm really not sure how to help you with this.


Dalric stood when the innkeeper did, receiving a suspicious look for his trouble.
The gog holds up a sign that says 'open door'.


"Don't hug me," she said.
Coraline sighs.


It was an odd response, but he just nodded as she left. He hadn't meant to hug her, of course, but perhaps it was a local thing. For now he didn't worry about it - he was here for a job, a standing bounty that spanned several holds, and it occupied his whole attention.
CORALINE
Which one of you is Keith?


The Carrier could be anyone.
A gog pries its way out of the pile and holds up a sign. The sign says only, 'Keith'.


The place was a bit quieter now, so he asked around, standard questions, getting a feel for the matter. His focus, for now, was on the guy in the market. The way he had asked the time, persistent and repetitive, was suspicious; they did that sometimes, when they slowly went mad. Became fixated in their terror, and there was always terror as the hunger ate at their souls. First the terror, then the loss, then the devolution into utter mindless thing, devouring and spreading, a plague like none other.
CORALINE
Hi, Keith. What are you after when you get inside a... human nest?


"Oh, Yink?" a bearded guy answered. "Yeah, I know him. Good lad until he went on that logging trip. Just hasn't been the same since."
Keith holds up a sign that says 'paper'.


"He's always asking," another said. "Always asking, never likes the answer."
CORALINE
Because you need paper for your signs. Of course you do. Look, we need to get back to town, but we'll send some, erm... specialists out here when we do, okay? They might be able to actually do something about your door problem. Or whatever it is your problem ''really'' is.


"Asks a bunch of things, doesn't he? Like he just picks something at random for the day every morning."
Coraline strafes around the pile to the side, and the entire pile rotates to face her. She backs away, and the pile stays put, watching with many, many eyes.


"I don't think he sleeps at all."
CORALINE
Great. Could you by any chance point us in the direction of town? Human nest nests?


"Been going on a few months now."
A gog pries itself out of the pile and holds up a sign: 'show'.


"Something happened up there, I'm telling you," a curly-haired fellow insisted. "Others didn't even come back at all, and Yink... he just came back trembling, and he wouldn't speak of it. For the longest time he wouldn't even say anything. But this is worse, if anything."
Coraline gestures for it to lead the way, and they follow it back to the road, and then town.


"Oh, leave him alone. He's harmless. Just a nuisance, really," another said.


But Dalric wasn't so sure. He wasn't sure at all, but indeed it looked likely. Odd that a Carrier might last so long - usually it was a few weeks at most - but if the suspicion that had brought him here in the first place were true, it could be possible that one had lasted far longer. Years, even, potentially.
EXT. Molstead Inn - evening


Dalric did not like the implications of that one bit.
Coraline and Jess get back to the inn in the late evening, Coraline now carrying a snoring Agata under one arm. It's pleasantly cool, and several patrons are hanging around outside with mugs. They greet the women as they approach, but then go silent as they notice the gog.


CORALINE
It's a gog.


PATRON
Um.


Morning came quickly, a damp chill seeping through the leaves and across the grass. Everything was wet, including Nolan, perched in his tree once more. There, he watched and waited.
The gog holds up a sign. It says, 'gog'. It's unclear where this came from.


CORALINE
See?


The inn's door is propped open, and Coraline tries to shoo the gog in, but then it just stops and pokes at the door. And then the door prop. And then the door some more.


Dalric was also up, though not up a tree, watching the buildings, noting the paths, looking again for anything odd. Only a few folk were out this early, and in the wet and cold, their breath formed mist that lingered in place, leaving strange trails to mark their passing.
CORALINE
(ushering Jess inside instead)
Yeah, let's just leave it at that.
(to the patrons)
It's friendly. Don't do anything stupid.


He found Yink crouching behind the blacksmithy, muttering to himself. The man was neither tall nor short, but he seemed a bit emaciated, and a bit dirty. Even so, his clothes were in relatively good condition - was someone in town tending to him, then? If so, why wasn't he inside?


Yink stood suddenly, and looked around, quickly spotting Dalric. "What time is it?" he asked, advancing slowly.
INT. Molstead Inn - evening


Dalric backed away, hand to his sword, but Yink just bounded forward, right into his face, and very nearly his sword as well, stopping only just before he impaled himself. But that was it, nothing more threatening, just a mild invasion of personal space, and that question, again.
Inside is fairly busy. Folks are all about, filling the tables, standing around, drinking. DORS, the orcan bouncer, is tending bar. He waves at Coraline and Jess cheerfully as they come in, baring too many teeth.


"What time is it?" Yink stared into Dalric's eyes insistently. "What time is it?"
Another cat, ARGUMENT OF HAGS, yowls from a shelf in welcome.


Dalric nudged him away with the tip of his sword, and the madman backed off easily enough, though he went no further. Just stayed as close as he could get, and Dalric noted his eyes looked relatively normal. Dark, perhaps, but that could be natural. Some people here did have dark eyes.
CORALINE
Right, I think we need food. And then we need to get you home. You good to work tomorrow?


Dalric backed away a bit, but the guy just followed.
Jess nods.


He pushed past him and still Yink followed.
Coraline pushes a very drunk guy off a barstool and he wanders off, oblivious. Then she plonks Jess down on the stool in his place, and dumps Agata in her lap.


"What time is it?" Yink asked.
CORALINE
Stay.


Dors pours Jess a drink.


DORS
I expect you've had a day. How about some poses?


There was a dripping. Coraline awoke slowly, each drip cutting into the dream like a big cutty thing, unexpected, unremembered shortly after, until finally she realised what it was. It was still quite early, at least for her, and it occurred to her that, in the future, she should really stick to harder liquors. Nice safe things like vodka and shalott. And even brandy, for that matter - as bad as it tasted, it was a marked improvement washing the horrible taste out of her mouth. Now if only she could wash away the dripping so easily.
Coraline heads to the kitchen to get some food, and grabs her staff while she's at it.


She groaned and went back to sleep.
When she gets back, plates in hand, phoenix staff slung over a shoulder, a small crowd has gathered around one of the tables.


The dripping continued in the background.
Dors is striking ridiculous poses at Jess.


= Heap of disorganised pieces =
Coraline deposits the plates by Jess and goes to investigate the crowd.
<div class="heap-toc">{{#toc: 1}}</div>


== Note on the setting ==
The gog is on the table. Several guys are attempting to give it beer.


The year is 2032 of the fourth era, four years since the crown of Soravia fell, sending the kingdom into chaos and turmoil. As the ruling Houses struggle for power and influence, they make alliances and send their armies to march and engage in terrible battles. Time passes, and the devastation only spreads. There is no end in sight.
The gog holds up a sign that says 'inside'.


Fortunately for us, our story has very little to do with this.
GUY
Yeah, put the beer inside. You ''drink'' it. You getting this?
(to the others)
Am I saying this right?


ANOTHER GUY
Sure, look, it seems to get it.


== Take 1: Beginning ==
The gog drinks some beer.


{{c|''There are consequences to every choice.
Coraline backs away very quickly, grabs her plate, and leaves the inn entirely.


''There is sacrifice in every promise.


''There are toasters in the cat.}}
INT. Keller's place - evening


Coraline shows up to Keller's place, still shovelling food in her face, and pounds on the door with an elbow. This doesn't entirely work, so she stops eating and uses her fist instead.


The story starts here, in the middle, not because the middle is more important or more interesting than the beginning or end, but simply because it is the only piece left that is not missing. It is the only piece that has been found, and the only piece that is safe to share. The rest is holes.
A moment later, KIT, Keller's apprentice (he's about 12), answers the door, peering up at her curiously.


=== 0: Forward and on ===
KIT
Need something?


==== Begin ====
CORALINE
Got a job, if you're interested.


Coraline awoke face-down in the dirt. Not sure where she was, what was real, or even, for that matter, what had happened, she rolled over and peered into the early-dawn light.
KIT
Yeah?


It looked like winter probably looked in a much more moderate climate - namely in pretty much anywhere on her world further south than where she was from. But this wasn't her world, was it? If it were, why would she be further south?
KELLER, dressed in stereotypical wizard robes, swoops the door open entirely before Coraline can respond.


Even so, the dreary light looked dreadfully normal, and the pain in her head and general whingeing of her sore muscles seemed pretty insistent that there was absolutely nothing supernatural going on here - probably just a particularly bad hangover or something? Not that she drank, but a bad bowl of noodles could do much the same. Or so she imagined. She didn't drink, after all.
KELLER
Miss Zidane! So good to see you again. Do come in, come in!


And the whole conversation, the whole night and day before that she remembered, why, that was probably just a dream...
He ushers Kit out of the way, and Coraline inside.


Probably? So where the hell was she, then?
Having lost access to Kit, Coraline comes inside.


She sat up and looked around more carefully. She was sitting by a small creek, almost frozen over, with leafless trees lining the banks, and brown grass and curled leaves all around. A light frost glittered on the edges. Her staff - the staff Sherandris had given her - was a couple metres away in some dead-looking shrubs, so clearly that much wasn't a dream. And dead-looking... the proliferation of twiggage suggested that it was definitely not actually dead, just waiting. So yes. Winter. Probably.
Inside is rather messy. There is a stuffed moose hanging from the ceiling. Scrolls and notes are scattered across every surface. An entire wall is covered by something that looks like an elaborate chemistry experiment. Stacks of books line the other walls.


So it was real. This wasn't her world. She didn't know what it was, or if it even had winters, but supposing it did, this would probably be it. Right? Maybe. Sure. Why not.
Coraline eyes the books curiously.


She got up, despite the protestations of her stiff limbs, and picked up the staff. Here she was, then, wherever here was.
KELLER
So what brings you out this way this fine day, hmm?


There didn't appear to be any signs of civilisation in any direction, though the trees made it somewhat more ambiguous. She pushed through the shrubbery to get a better look away from the creek - it appeared to be only grassland beyond, not even cultivated fields, just hills and grass and the bones of trees, and some low mountains in the far distance. Same in the other direction? Seemed to be.
Coraline takes another bite of her food, still eyeing the books.


But there was, of course, a very good chance she was missing something obvious. Where was a ranger when she needed one? Or a sandwich?
KELLER
Ah, yes, I suppose I have amassed quite the collection over the years, haven't I? If there's anything you'd like to borrow, I suppose I could part... for a small fee.


She checked her bag, but all it had for food was half a box of crackers she'd grabbed for breakfast the previous morning. She pulled out a handful anyway and stuffed the box back into the abyss of her bag. Breakfast of lunatics.
Coraline painfully drags herself away from the idea of books and gets back to what she actually came here for.


The sun was higher. The frost was gone. Twiggage rustled in the breeze. There was nothing here but loneliness, and it seemed there would continue to be nothing so long as she remained.
CORALINE
I actually...
(she notices the moose)
Is that a moose?


"You're out of your mind, girl," she said to herself. She had wound up on this world, alone in the wilderness with nothing but her wits, a staff, and a bag full of random stuff, no idea where this was, how it was, or really anything at all about it, simply... because of a promise? She shook her head bemusedly.
KIT
Wondered that myself. Not a sheep, though. Nolan checked.


Lost it or not, however, it was time to move. So she followed the creek, because as much as the videogames she had grown up on tended not to adhere to this, in real life water always leads somewhere.  
KELLER
It certainly is.


==== River and road ====
CORALINE
Why?


Days passed and turned into weeks.
Kit shrugs.


She encountered the usual problems, of course - what to eat, where to sleep, how to boil the water so it was actually safe to drink, but she used what she had and it worked. She tested the staff and it blasted a hole in a nearby tree, smoldering on the edges. She tested it again and achieved far more precise results - good for hunting, it seemed, but also good for starting fires. Her metal water bottle worked as a makeshift pot. Her coat was thick, probably more than needed here, and though she heard murmurs from time to time, it seemed she was indeed alone. Just the birds and the gophers. Some deer on the prairie. A huge winged creature soaring overhead, neither dinosaur nor bird.
KELLER
Oh, you know. You need the right space.


She was out of crackers. It would be all gopher meat from there; though she realised the danger in that, she also realised she knew nothing of the local plantlife, and thus nothing of what would be safe to eat or otherwise.  
CORALINE
Right. I actually need to borrow your apprentice.


She considered a deer, but had no idea what she would have done with it all.
KELLER
(disappointedly)
But I have so much to give!


The landscape changed. Hills gave way to valleys, plains gave way to forests. The days were long and the nights were cold, and though she sometimes heard shrieks in the distance, they could have been anything. Valley cats. Mountain cats. Not cats. Moose. Who knows. Doesn't matter. Snow fell. Winds blew. At night she stirred the fire. Sparks rose and joined the stars when they came out, but she recognised none, so she gave the constellations names of her own. The Blob. Mr. Scruffy. Thing That Looks Almost Like The Pleiades But Isn't. She wished she were home, but at the same time she was glad she wasn't.
CORALINE
Unless ''you'' want to investigate a bunch of possibly insane gogs?


Come day, she walked. Down, down, down, out of the highlands, out to the sea. Or that was the direction, at least. There was always a sea if you went down far enough.
Keller stares at her for a moment.


The creek became a river. Tributaries flowed in, little and big, and the crossings took time, slowing her progress between nowhere and nowhere in particular. The hills around had risen into sheer cliffs; the valley was a gorge. Birds sang like voices in her head. Shielded from the wind, it was much warmer down here, and the plants much lusher, though many were still without leaves, merely mossed twiggage reaching for the clouds. Some of it almost looked familiar. Almost.
KELLER
I've got research. Very important research that I must attend to.


And then she found the road, a high bridge crossing her river like a figure out of legend, an elegant contraption of stone and more stone rising out of and over the trees.  
CORALINE
Of course. I wouldn't mean to ask you to do anything beneath your station.


She climbed to its start, up the hill and through the shrubbery, pulling on vines like guide ropes. It was a road, and it seemed maintained, but not like any she had seen in years. Cobbled, brick foundation with stones on a layer of sand, she found, and put the cobble back. Like the roads in ancient Rome, perhaps? And narrow. Road and bridge might suffer a single vehicle, but poorly. A bug perhaps would have managed, but with nothing on either side. But this wasn't a world of vehicles. Even now, she knew it. This road was made for walking - and possibly for riding. But riding what? And what...  
Keller hastily flounces off into another room.


And then she realised. This was another planet in another universe - he had been very clear on this. Roads, of course, were probably a fairly universal concept, but what of the builders? What would they be? Would there even be a way to communicate, any common ground at all? And what would they make of her, in her jeans and t-shirt and big fluffy coat?
Kit raises an eyebrow.


But as ever, there was nothing for it but to walk. Pick a direction and move forward. Follow the road and find out, see where her story went. There was always a story, even if it was just pictures.
KIT
Insane gogs?


So she headed north, across the bridge, away from the path of the sun, not because north seemed like the best direction to go, but simply because of the bridge. A bridge like that clamoured to be crossed.
CORALINE
Well, maybe. There's a bunch of them out past the ruins, at least. Maybe you lot can figure out what the hells their problem really is?
Overtly, they're having problems with doors. And paper. The thing I'm really not clear on is why. They're communicative, though. Sort of. They use a lot of paper signs.


The road cut around hills, up and out of the gorge, back to the plains, though these were different from before. Rockier. Hills and ridges. Smoke in the distance, but it could have been anything. Stay on the road. The road was safer. She had what she needed right there; in the cold, water lasts, and saved meat lasts longer.
KIT
Sounds like you want Nolan.


Stone piles marked offshoots, smaller paths heading away into the grass. They didn't look recently travelled, but finally she followed one for the hell of it, breaking through patches of old snow untouched but for rabbits and game.  
CORALINE
Hey, if Nolan can translate gog signs, great. But you'll still need to translate Nolan, and you'll probably want to bring a sword with you just to be safer...


It led to a husk of a village, years gone, or perhaps weeks, burned out and empty. Stone walls jostled with charred logs, crumbling into rubble. She touched one of the more intact buildings and it toppled around her.  
KIT
And I'm sure we can find a use for overloud shrieking.


Old bones poked from the snow. In the centre of the village, in the square, or perhaps what they would have called the green, dessicated bodies were piled around a stone obelisk. There were no scorch marks here, and no scavengers had touched them, but the elements had worn the bodies down to bone, skeletons mummified in their clothes.
Coraline shrugs.


They looked human, the dead.
CORALINE
Out of curiosity, what would Keller be likely to charge for some of those books?


It was unclear why or how, but the air felt strange. It was wrong, here, in this place, and she knew it. Where buildings once shielded the green from the wind, it should now tear through their ruins, but everything was still and silent, simply her and the dead and the obelisk, unmarked. There was nothing to be done. She turned back to the road. Even if she should find something left to scavenge, she would not have trusted it, not from this place.
KIT
More than they're worth. They're just manuals, and half of them are completely wrong.


At the outskirts the wind hit her suddenly, tearing with abandon and screaming in her ears, screaming, screaming. She turned her head against it and it almost stole her beanie, but at least the screaming stopped.  
CORALINE
Damn.


What had happened? What was wrong with the place? Was it wrong with the world? But there were no answers.
Kit pulls one out of a pile and hands it to Coraline.


She strayed no more from the road.
KIT
Here, this one's a good starting kit. Just take it. He won't even notice.


==== Mountains ====
CORALINE
Er, thanks.




EXT. Molstead - evening


The road led on. Up again, towards mountains and trees, ever rockier. There was nobody else around, nobody else travelling the path but ghosts. They drifted out of long shadows and dissipated in the light as she passed, uncertain in their very presence. Carrion birds circled above, cutting crisply through the icy air. Day and night. On and on. The cold bit in the night. Water ran low, but dirty snow boiled and separated same as river water.
Coraline escorts Jess home later, dropping off her plate at the inn and decidedly not investigating the gog table, which has an even bigger crowd now.


Shapes flickered and danced in the fire, babbling to themselves, as she watched and drifted into sleep, into Nightmare.
Outside, the voices are almost completely drowned out by the clatter of insects. Almost.


==== Elves ====
Jess is much calmer now. She glances toward Coraline periodically as they go as though about to say something, but then doesn't.


In the foothills, the trees closed around like an enveloping cloak, roaring whispers in the pines, and it felt like home, recalling winters in the mountains, skiing, sleighing, laughing in the twilight. Always surrounded by the roaring whisper. It was the sound of the forest, the life in the cold.
Coraline either doesn't notice or doesn't care.


But there was another sound, too, further on. Voices? She walked faster, rounded the bend, and yes, others, other people, the first in... she didn't even know. Weeks? Months? How long had it been? But it didn't matter; in the now these figures were here. Wrapped in thick cloaks, two huddled around a third lying against a rock. Something had gone amiss, and the worry in their voices and movements was obvious, though she couldn't make out the words over the whispers of the trees.
Finally they get out of the town proper and onto the environs road through the woods.


Then one noticed her and stood.
JESS
I wish I could be like you. Nothing ever stops you, does it?


"Can you help?" he said. "Adaerivyn has fallen." His features were pointed, his eyes precise. There was no age to the face, but there was fear. The situation stank of it, and she didn't know why.
Coraline gives Jess a confused look.


"What's wrong? What happened?" Coraline asked as she approached and got a better look at the fallen man, Adaerivyn. He was pale, sweating, even in the cold. The other, a woman, looked up with concern.
JESS
I just froze. I had no idea what to do, but then you showed up... thank you. Thank you.


"He was hit by an arrow when we tried to escape. Neaya managed to close the wound, but without a healer to tend to him properly, it's gone bad and just gotten worse."
Coraline nods.


"Where was this?" she asked as the woman pulled back layers of clothing to show Coraline the wound, even without waiting for any indication if she could help. It was a small, stitched hole under the collarbone, clearly infected, with strange colours and pus oozing from the stitches, but though Coraline knew nothing of medicine, the despair in the air pushed her to at least try something. She looked through her bag. Perhaps... yes. A tube of antiseptic ointment? Probably a terrible idea at this point, but what had he got to lose?
CORALINE
You want to do something, you just do... something. It won't always help, you won't always know what it will do, but if you know that doing nothing won't get you out, then try something else and figure out what will.
I used to do that too. Freeze. Not know what to do, hope it would blow over and just fix itself. Especially with people. But you get practice. You learn. You realise everything follows the same patterns, you learn how to test it and continue from there.
(quietly)
I still sometimes have no idea, though, and I put it off, don't deal with it. It just gets worse in the meantime.


Behind her, the man sighed hopelessly. "Kalona. Eight days back. Utter madness up there. The scourge has come, and it is as though the world has fallen. Survivors ratted down, and those who try to escape shot, but it's all for nothing. The taken are taken. The rest can only flee."
JESS
You talked to the gog.


Coraline looked back as she unscrewed the cap. "Taken?" she asked, trying to keep them talking. She fumbled in the process and dropped the cap on the cobbles.
CORALINE
I talk to a lot of things. But it's often not a bad place to start.


He just shook his head.
For some reason they continue past the turn off to the Eslinger farm.


She rubbed a small amount of ointment onto her fingers in the vague hope that maybe it would serve as a substitute for washing, then pulled out the stitches with a few choice tugs. The hole came open surprisingly easily and a rush of foul liquid oozed down the man's chest, and a foul stench quickly followed. The woman turned away. The other knelt again beside them.  
JESS
I'd like to stop at the temple first.


She gave the reddened skin next to the hole a quick jab. The man moaned as a smaller amount of pus came out.
CORALINE
Sure.


"Just for the record," she said, stuffing a glob of ointment into the hole, "I have no idea if this will actually help. But it... might?" The one that had greeted her gave her a worried look, but she wiped her hands and went back into her bag. Did she have needles? Yes, and even curved ones, at that. Perfect. She threaded one with some floss, and reclosed the wound.


The woman was kneading his other shoulder with worry. "We will pray," she said.
INT. Molstead Temple - late evening


"Thank you," the other said, handing Coraline the cap. "Not many would stop and help elves."
Davis is lighting candles at the shrines as Jess and Coraline enter.


Coraline half-shrugged. She hadn't even realised they were elves, though that wouldn't have affected much regardless. "I hope it works out," she said. "So about Kalona, what, exactly...?"
Jess goes to a few of the shrines and does shriney things.


The elf looked away, unable to meet her eyes. "You're headed that way, then?"
Coraline wanders over to bother Davis, standing right behind him.


"Looks like."
CORALINE
Bother.


"You'll only find death. The madness we fled will have died, for the scourge leaves nothing but ashes in its wake, but whatever brought you this way will leave you wanting in the days to get there."
DAVIS
Oh, hello.


She wanted to ask what it was, this 'scourge', but despite all the questions brimming on her mind, somehow it felt like a bad idea to voice any. These were things she should just know, things everyone knew, something that would immediately mark her as an outsider if she didn't, and... that would be bad. She didn't know why, just that it would be. "Maybe," she said instead.
Davis looks at Coraline expectantly.


"Don't go," the woman said. "A kind heart does not bear to witness."
CORALINE
...that was really all I had to say.


"I've got to," Coraline said, moving away. She'd come this far, and when the only other direction was back the way she had come, the idea of turning ''back'' just didn't sit right. And something about elves. "Good luck to you," she said over her shoulder.
Davis gives her an amused look and moves onto the next shrine, and Coraline follows. This one is to Kyrule, the god of death. It features a thick stone disk, with a skull wearing an elaborate filigree mask carved in relief.


Eight days to Kalona. A name. A destination. Something. Finally. The whispers of the pines ushered her on, long and low, rising and falling. Despite the obvious alarm and poor state of the elves and the apparent horrors ahead, Coraline felt her excitement rising. It was starting.
CORALINE
Does it ever seem strange to honour a god who is such an antithesis to your own? Azorres is life and compassion, Kyrule death and judgement. On one hand you have the pain and struggle and solace of trying to survive at all, and the other... cold finality. The ultimate failure that awaits us all.


What was, though?
DAVIS
Where is the antithesis? These things go together perfectly, each giving meaning to the other.


=== 1: Kalona ===
CORALINE
But aren't they at odds? That very meaning comes from the opposition.


==== Empty town ====
Davis remains silent as he finishes lighting the candles, and turns to face her when he's done.


Kalona was a cliché. The size of shopping centre, perhaps, or an apartment complex, but it was the entire town, walled about in stone and eerily silent, an oasis of silence cradled amidst the trees. Not even cawing disturbed the whispers.
DAVIS
This opposition is how they come together.
Azorres' compassion tempers Kyrule's blade. But where compassion fails, where order breaks and the hells would reign free across the lands, we need that blade and all the ruthlesseness that backs it. The world is a question of scales, balanced between all: life and death, order and chaos, needs and desires. The gods reflect this, each one a piece of the balance, and so we honour all.


And there should have been cawing. The heavy gate was ajar, but before it were bodies: three of them, collapsed in the road, discoloured corpses chilled but not quite frozen, arrows protruding from their backs. No sign of the shooters on the walls. No sign why the gate would still be open, if it were so imperative that nobody get out. But that would had been almost two weeks ago now. Now there was only silence.
CORALINE
I guess I just don't much care for some of them.


As she approached, Coraline gripped her staff. She felt strangely vulnerable. This wasn't like the games, where one hit never kills and the player character could always be sure of a quick way out in case of danger - be it a powerful spell or simply running away. She had been good at running away.
DAVIS
You don't need to care for something to see the value.


This was much more interesting, she realised, skirting around the nearest body.
CORALINE
Value, yes, but...


She ducked through the partially open gate and tried to take in everything at once, staff at the ready. It didn't work; instead she nearly hit herself on the head with the staff and got her foot stuck in an upturned wicker basket she'd failed to spot on the ground. She stopped and tried again.
She sighs.


There wasn't anyone about. No movement amidst the houses and workshops, though something creaked somewhere. Within the walls, the streets widened considerably, but they were strewn with objects that didn't make much sense, out of context and unrecognisable. A pile of sheets? Half a cart? A kitchen chair, a shovel, some rocks, a doll. A foot.
DAVIS
You can't fully hold the god responsible for the actions of his followers.


She heard a creak again, but nothing of the view had changed. Above her a flag flapped half-heartedly. She pulled the basket off her own foot.
CORALINE
They've been very consistent.


The buildings were empty, at least of people. Not knowing what to look for, she searched for books, but found none. No people, no books, not even any bodies within the walls. Nothing besides the foot that had been lying so lonesomely in the street, in that graveyard of misplaced objects and empty houses. In some, it appeared as though the occupants had tried to pack up and leave, with shelves bare and tables cleared quickly, while others... in others, it was as though the occupants had simply vanished without warning. Fires burned down to ash, tables set, food out, tools in their places, houses only of ghosts.
DAVIS
Do you blame them? Would you earnestly prefer they not try to contain...
(he glances over at Jess; more quietly)
This? Though their means are merciless, would you prefer it spread?


There was little of use, but she pocketed a few things nonetheless - a bar of soap, some clean clothes (apparently just made; very little else was entirely clean here), a spoon, a bristle comb, a strip of what might have been aluminium but probably wasn't, a set of small pots, some dried food - and stared longingly at some of the other commodities that had once been employed by the people who had lived here not so long ago. How she missed pillows, and beds, and blankets. And heating! And a roof. And proper food. And people. Cats. Books. Comfy chairs. Moomin. Home.  
CORALINE
Gods, no.


All these homes, but nobody here would ever come back.
DAVIS
I'm so sorry. I didn't mean...


Leaving one of the last ones, she was startled by a creak again behind her, much louder, and then realised it was the door closing behind her, simply reminding the world that it was still there. It was still a door. It still functioned.
CORALINE
Davis. It's okay. You're right.


Again she looked around. Still nothing. Detritus and nothing. Dead objects littering the cobblestones, buildings gaping at the wind. Shutters hanging open, but doors shut tight, guarding the possessions of the dead. Because they were all dead. That much was clear, even if the bodies themselves were simply... missing.  
DAVIS
Kyrule doesn't want you dead. If he did, you would be, despite all our efforts. Trust in that?


Then movement caught her eye. Something around the corner over there. She moved towards it and a sheet billowed into view, carried by the wind. It caught on the ground.
Coraline shakes her head, smiling confusedly.


And then, rounding the corner proper, she saw him. He had been an elf, but now he was simply mad, crazed, a hunched figure not aware of his surroundings, scrabbling at the ground as though chasing something that was not there, all the while jerking to the voices that existed only in his own head.
Davis winces and goes onto the next shrine.


She could almost hear them as she watched. She had an idea or two exactly what that might be like, to completely lose it, but she also knew there was more to this. He hadn't just 'lost it'; he was no simple schizophrenic. Those often managed to function just fine even without medication, at least until they stabbed the neighbour's kid, screaming about the alien infestation and how he was an agent and had to be purged. Or at least that was what had happened down the road. But this was... different. This was a madness so complete it devoured everything, and yet he was still alive.
Coraline plods over to the statue.


Surely normally they just died at that point?
STATUE OF AZORRES
Have you considered what you will do from here?


She wished he would speak. She wished she could hear the Mad Words, to really hear them for what they were, but instead the elf said nothing, simply jerked and darted around, picking up objects and tossing them aside, moving from place to place as though oblivious of what were real and what were not.
CORALINE
Not really, no.
Here's a question for you. Would it be wrong to turn an entire civilisation of a sentient species of spiders into raging alcoholics?


He hadn't noticed her. She moved closer, but pointed the staff at him all the same.
STATUE OF AZORRES
Yes.


"Hello?" she called to him. "Can you hear me?"
CORALINE
Oh.


And he just stopped. It was as though the world had stopped with him, until he turned, slowly, oh so slowly, and stared at her with gleaming, hungry black eyes. He said nothing, simply stared, and she knew there was nothing left for him. He was dead. Whoever he was or had been was gone, replaced only by the hunger.
STATUE OF AZORRES
Were you really considering this?


She took a step backwards, but somehow kept the staff level.
CORALINE
Not particularly, but if I don't do something soon I might not be able to stop it, either.


He leapt.
STATUE OF AZORRES
There is a distinction between causing something and failing to stop it.


Coraline panicked and ducked, firing blindly and hoping, hoping, hoping a shot would actually hit, before finally just covering her head and rolling aside in the sudden silence.
CORALINE
There's also a distinction of I live here and have to deal with the consequences, whether it had anything to do with me or not.


The silence persisted. Finally she looked up, then around, and found the elf-creature dead less than a metre away, claw-like hands still reaching toward where she'd been standing. One of her shots had clipped the side of its head, enough to kill it outright.
Jess comes over to the statue as well, kneeling before it.


She let out a long breath and got up shakily. Was this it, then? Or were there others, too? Ruined survivors bereft of all self, scrounging in the rubble? Was this what the 'scourge' was?
STATUE OF AZORRES
Rise, dear child. You will always find solace here.


She checked the body and found nothing but rags and dirt. No indication of who he had been. No real indication of anything at all, just questions without answers. She felt a shiver go down her body, and looked back to the rest of the town. This wasn't happening.
JESS
Thank you, my Lord. Thank you for watching over me.
(she puts a cake with the other offerings)
You sent Lyra for me, didn't you?


This was happening.
STATUE OF AZORRES
I did.


She had already checked most of the buildings. There was nothing here. Nothing at all. Just death, and a solitary building remaining, higher than the others, with another one of those obelisks behind it. Whatever it was, it had been important - governance, a centre of commerce, perhaps a temple - but now it just looked empty same as everything else.
CORALINE
Normally I'd argue, but... yeah.
(to the statue)
Why didn't you just tell me where she was?


For whatever reason, it made her nervous - more than she already was.
STATUE OF AZORRES
I did not know. A god may see their faithful as existing within the world, and know them how they are, but this comes with no precise knowledge of location or status. I knew that she was alive and in need. I heard her prayers and sent you the only direction that made sense.


She pulled the door open quickly, propping it with a foot and shining staff and torch into the gloom in one decisive motion.
</screenplay>


==== Temple ====
=== Gog handling ===


It was a temple.
<screenplay>


Nothing moved. The space was still, all still, a shine of dust illuminated by colourful windows and torchlight alike. In it were shapes, forms not quite right. Shapes of pews, lined up and proper. Shape of an alter up front. Shape of a statue behind it, bathed in light, drawing the eye away from the death. A female figure, solitary, one arm forward and one arm back, a look of joy on her face. She didn't fit.
INT. Molstead inn - morning


Coraline walked slowly down the aisle, shining her light into the gloom, but passing the faces by. The statue was the important thing.
It is morning. Coraline is in bed again, happily asleep, this time with no cat on her face, but two cats next to her. A soft, polite dingling rings through the room, and then stops.


Then movement drew her eye. A woman by the alter, watching, confused. The woman shook her head, and said, "You... you're alive. What are you doing here?"
CORALINE
Nnnrgh.


Coraline hesitated, and stopped in the aisle. "I... I don't know. What happened here? Is everyone...?" She trailed off. The words felt odd, as though they were the wrong ones, as lost as she was. As lost as this whole place was. And there were so many questions, and yet she didn't even know enough to ask.
The polite dingling of the bell contrapture repeats, and Coraline suddenly realises what it is, attempts to get up, and falls out of bed.


"Dead?" The woman finished. "Aye. The scourge has taken... we are all..." She gestured hopelessly. Her clothes were dirty and torn, but from her attire, she seemed to be some sort of priestess.
CORALINE
(yelling from the floor)
Coming, give me a moment!


"What?" Coraline said.


The priestess gestured for Coraline to come closer. "Come. I haven't..." she sighed weakly. "It's too late. Where do you come from, the outliers?"


Coraline shook her head. "Further off. Everything's just smoke, ashes, there..."
A few minutes later, she grumps into the tavern proper holding a bottle of whiskey, mostly dressed, staff and sword under an arm, holding another cloth package, looking like a very angry videogame character. Several cats watch her from the bar as she enters: Thimble and Argument of Hags, as well as TRESS, SCOFFLE, and ONPAHANVAANLAMPI. Thimble looks particularly angry today.


"So it is. The lands have fallen," the priestess said. "It's the world's end, and nobody will remember. Just the end."
The spare gog has cocooned itself on the hazard table sticking out of the ceiling. An argument is happening outside the main door.


"What happened?" Coraline asked again.
The elf is again sitting at the bar, waiting primly.


For a moment the priestess said nothing. "He came one day, asked for shelter, for aid, and we took him in as one of our own," she said bitterly. "He kept talking about hunger, about voices eating at him. And the eyes... the eyes were odd. And then it spread. Some began to turn, feeling the hunger, the need, while others... others just never woke up. And it spread, until there was noone left." She stared at Coraline desperately. "We didn't know what he was, and this proved our downfall. We should have known."
Coraline puts down her whiskey, drops her weapons on the floor, cuts the ribbon on the package, and passes it over to the elf as before, this time muttering a particularly choice string of finnish profanities.


"But how could you have?" Coraline asked.
The elf pulls out a piece of bread, sniffs it deeply, and smiles serenely, closing his eyes.


The priestess ignored her and looked away into the gloom. Coraline watched her carefully. The place was warm and dark and there was something wrong, horribly wrong, but she couldn't quite place it.
Coraline grabs her weapons again and grumps over to the door and tries to open it.


Finally, the priestess turned back to her and said quietly, "I would ask something of you. A favour."
Coraline tries to open the door again.


"What?"
Behind her, the gog reaches out and holds a sign off the hanging table. The sign says, 'rote system'.


"Kill me," the priestess said.
Coraline kicks the door, mostly out of sheer annoyance.


Coraline stared at her. "But... why?"
JESS
(yelling from outside)
Lyra? You in there?


"I'm turning. I can feel it, even now, changing me, eating who I am," she pleaded. "I can't stop it! I can't."
CORALINE
(yelling back)
Yeah, what's wrong with the door and why aren't you in here?!


"But..." Coraline protested protestingly.
Agata pads over and peers up at the gog.


The priestess turned away. "I'm sorry. It was too much to ask."
AGATA
It's called a hangover.


And then somehow Coraline did. She wasn't sure how. She just realised she was breathing heavily. Her knife was in her hand. The priestess was dead on the ground, and there was blood everywhere. So much blood. Where had it all come from?
KIT
(also yelling from outside)
Gogs webbed it over! Hold on, I'll get it off.


For a moment she just stared in shock. Had she seriously just done that? What had she even done? Why didn't she remember it?
CORALINE
Kit? What... {{idioma|voi paska}}.


Then she heard voices rising around her, whispering, taunting, cajoling, a roar of echoes rising into a cacophony before suddenly dying out all at once. In the same instant, there was a flash of light in front of her, and priestess's body was reduced to ash.
KIT
(outside)
{{incantation|Wind fire burn!}}


When Coraline knelt down to retrieve her knife, she saw something else glinting in the ash, and picked that up as well: it was a golden coin, intricately detailed on one side with a skull and mask, and on the other with a set of scales.
There's a FWOOMPH outside, and a moment later, JORA, the kids' young elven sword-nanny, opens the door and peers inside, sword out.


She pocketed it quickly and backed away.
Jora nods and sheaths the sword.


This was not somewhere she wanted to be. Though night was coming, the idea of spending it within any of these walls seemed appalling. By the time she reached the north gate, she was practically running.
Nolan (now 11, though he's hardly grown in the meantime) and ERRY, Kit's little sister (8), are also there.


=== 2: The Light and the Dark ===
Jess heads inside and then stops, staring at the gog on the table.


==== Aeries ====
CORALINE
Just... ignore it. I don't know.


The road out headed on up the mountain and back into the whispering pines, leaving the town behind around the bends. The incline quickly forced Coraline to slow back to a walk, but the sound of the wind comforted her even as the snow began to settle on her hair. She pulled her coat tighter, not thinking about what had happened, not thinking about anything at all, just looking at the trees and the road and the snowflakes and suddenly wondering what kind of stupid she really was to be heading up a mountain in the snow in the afternoon in the middle of winter.
The gog holds out a sign that says, 'hangover'. The sign is right-side-up for a change.


She couldn't go back, however, so on she went.
CORALINE
Get it some coffee maybe?


The wind died down slowly, ushering in a dusk that settled like a useless cloak amidst silent snowfall. It was still getting colder, but even now she would have described it more as nippy than anything else - a sort of freeze-your-boogers cold, but not freeze-your-entire-nose-off cold.
Jess gives Coraline a confused look.


Finally the road levelled out, passing into the questionable shelter between mountains, and it was here that she came to an old guard tower, or whatever it was. Some sort of stone structure, at any rate; the important thing was that it looked insulatable, so there she set up camp: a fire in the doorway, and warmth within. No smell of death. No vacant homes. No haunting memories. Just lonely wind as she scrubbed the blood out of her coat, and empty dreams.
Coraline shrugs blankly.


Come morning, the snow was done, simply loitering on every available surface, and everything was brilliant white. The effect was knocked into compliance by her sunglasses, but still disturbingly blinding.
KIT
So. Gogs?


She grumbled and headed on, but now everything was simply down once more. Down, down, and around, stopping again before getting out of the foothills, then onto rolling hills, lakes in the distance. Lands more lush than before, grasses sighing in the wind. Life once more. Trails of smoke marked the odd farmhouse; wisps of cloud marked the spring. Cattle-like animals grazed in herds. There was the odd whisper, but nothing more.
CORALINE
Gogs.


Another few days brought her, amidst clammy mugginess, to a village much smaller than Kalona, but much more alive, consisting of a few buildings clustered around the road. A mill, an apothecary, a general shop and feed store, an inn. Some others she didn't recognise as anything in particular.
Coraline picks up Agata and hangs the cat around her neck like a very warm, stuffy, purring scarf.


A man ducked out of one building and into another. He nodded at Coraline as he passed, but in this weather there wasn't much desire to stay out of doors and dally.


Coraline went for the shop. The inside was full of odds and ends, cans, bags, clothes, utensils, items for all pieces of life, though some of the shelves were getting a bit on the barer side. Two men stood by the stove, but they looked up when she entered.
EXT. Elven ruins - morning


"Heya!" the older one called.
Erry runs out into the ruins first and climbs up a particularly upright chunk of wall. Nolan climbs after her not long after.


"Hey," Coraline said, pulling off her hat and unzipping her coat. It was quite warm in here.
Kit, Jora, and Coraline all walk in like normal people.


The older man nudged the younger, who looked confused for a moment, then said, "Oh, right." He walked to the counter. "Whaddya need, m'lady wizard?"
Agata walks in a bit behind them, peering about.


She looked at them askance. "Wizard?"
KIT
I think I see where the gogs are.


"You gots a staff," he said. "And you ain't from around here. Ain't ye a wizard?"
CORALINE
Yup.


"Mayhap." Coraline said. "You take trades?"


The young man glanced toward the other, who nodded. "Sure," he said.
INT. Gog tunnels - morning


Coraline suddenly realised they were probably father and son. "Excellent," she said.
The tunnels are empty. There is no sign of any gogs actually in the area.


They gave her weird looks at the sudden avalanche of receipts when she dug beyond the food and clothes, of course, and even weirder upon her pulling out her cuddly sea-anemone toy, though this apparently also cemented the idea in their minds that she was indeed a wizard, for why would anyone who wasn't one have such a thing? But she also made some coin selling odds and ends - a few furs she'd managed to salvage over the past few weeks, her keychain, a wad of foil she'd not even realised she still had, that strange strip of metal she'd picked up in Kalona, a single glove without a match, even the receipts themselves since, "sure, these could be useful to someone", the father said - and picked up some supplies on the side. She still didn't know where she was going, of course, but doubted she'd be staying here very long either.
Coraline and the kids come to the tree with the hole cut through the trunk, and the door shoved in it.


"Thanks for yer... er... what?" the son said.
CORALINE
So they did that.


"Custom, son," the father said.
KIT
I don't get it. What possible purpose could that serve?


He turned red and tried to back away through the wall, which didn't actually work. "Right," he said, looking pointedly away.
ERRY
They didn't get that something has to actually hold up the tree. Or maybe they did?


Coraline bowed slightly at them as she headed out the door, trying to cover her grin.
Coraline shrugs.


The inn was like something out of the old west - dark and smoky and full of tough-looking men bored out of their skulls - and all in all, not actually all that interesting. She hrmphed slightly to herself, not really sure what she had been expecting. But it was an inn, bar and restaurant at the base, rooms above, catering to travellers and townsfolk both. Now it seemed there were mostly the latter about, chatting amongst themselves and eyeing her as though they'd expected someone else entirely to walk in the front door.
Jora stalks ahead, listening for something.


They probably had. People had rarely seen Coraline coming even in her own world.
NOLAN
We're coming.


There seemed to be something going on in the corner, so Coraline went to look. Seeing this, everyone else put their attention back there as well.
They continue on, into the tunnels themselves, and come to the circular chamber with the solitary wooden door enshrined in the centre.


It turned out to be a card game of sorts. She couldn't really make sense of it. One would deal a card, and the other would turn it over, and that seemed to be about it.
There's a rustle in the other tunnels.


After a few anticlimactic rounds of ducks, frogs in dresses, and some impossibly-coloured seasons, the other said, "Play me," and the dealer dealt another card as though this were the most important one of all.
Nolan strides up to the door and peers up at it.


"Death," the dealer said. The card had a fairly traditional, though masked, Grim Reaper on it.
Jora draws her sword.


"Good," the other said.
Coraline readies her staff.


"No," the dealer said. "That's not good." One of the on-lookers put his head in his hands.
Nolan puts a hand on the doorknob.


"Why not?" Coraline asked. "The Death card needn't necessarily mean 'death' at all, simply change and possibility, a transition from one state to another. The end of how things were, but a new beginning, of how things are and shall yet be."
A shiver whispers through the webbing around and overhead. The ceiling thrums.


Everyone just sort of stared at her, and suddenly she realised this probably was not actually Tarot-related.
Nolan turns the knob.


"But that's just one interpretation, of course..." she said quickly.
The walls tremble. Gogs poke out of the tunnel openings, peering in.


"Death is death," the dealer said.
Nolan opens the door, swinging it open on missing hinges.


"We who were living are now dying, with a little patience?" Coraline suggested.
The vibrations in the webbing are almost constant, now, jarring, humming. Gogs climb over gogs, peering in, watching. A couple topple down into the room itself.


"Yes," the player said, staring at the card.
Behind the door is a space, empty, black, silent. Echoes drift outward, countering the hum around. Behind it is a rhythm, almost like a heartbeat.


"No," someone in the audience said, much more forcefully.
Nolan closes the door.


"Oh." Coraline looked around. "So... what, then?"
Several more gogs tumble down to the floor.


"You know what?" someone else said behind them. It turned out to be the guy at the bar who had had his head in his hands, a robed fellow with wild hair. He walked up and pulled the Death-dealt player up out of his seat. "We were just leaving."
NOLAN
I see.


"No, I don't think so," the dealer said.
The gogs all still around them. The vibrations cease. The humming quiets.


"No?" the robed man said.
KIT
You do?


The dealer stood, and gave the player a long look. The player just sort of stared off into space. "No," the dealer repeated. "This man is condemned. Whatever his crime, we should see the sentence through." He started to reach into his pocket, but before he could do anything else, Coraline hit him with her staff.
ERRY
In the darkness, silence waits. It's listening. It hears us, even now.


It was mostly a reflex, but for an instant it had seemed like a good idea in light of the apparent nonsense. It was also, she realised in the immediately following instant, probably just about the stupidest thing she ''could'' have done in this situation.
Agata pads around the door, peering at the back.


Oops.
Nolan turns around slightly.


"Yeah, okay, that's enough of that," the robed man said, and, grabbing Coraline as well, dragged her and the player both back out into the cold while the rest of the inn suddenly exploded in an uproar.
More gogs fall into the room, pushed out of the tunnels by gogs behind them.


"This way," the man said, pushing her towards the stables behind the inn, still pulling the other fellow along as well, though the fellow in question didn't appear to care one way or another. He seemed to just be going along at present because it was less effort than not going along.
Nolan holds up a sign. It says 'Door'.


The robed fellow saddled the horses, leaving Coraline and the other, who promptly started to turn away in a random direction, by the door. She reached out and grabbed his arm before he could wander off entirely and stared at him suspiciously - he reminded her, in a way, of small child, except he looked to be in his 30s or 40s. And he had funny eyes, as though slightly mirrored, though for all she knew that was entirely normal around here.
Several dozen gogs all around them also hold up signs, which also say 'door'.


Then the robed fellow was leading three horses back, shoving the listless other onto one, shoving Coraline's bag onto another, and then lifting her on as well before she could respond. Then he was in the saddle of the third, and, holding onto the leads of the other two, he brought the three horses out of the stable door and to a gallop down a muddy track out.
Nolan holds up another sign that says 'interminable darkness'.


Coraline wasn't entirely sure how to feel about this, but on the other hand, hey, free horse. Or something along those lines; she wasn't entirely sure how to feel about that, either.
A couple of gogs hold up signs saying 'talk' and 'signs' and 'alive'.


In the meantime, the path beckoned, hooves clomped, and distance passed as Coraline jumped and fell into the rhythms of the saddle.
Nolan holds up a sign that says 'sheep'.


==== Party ====
KIT
Well, that didn't last long.


"You were right, you know," the robed man yelled to her once they'd slowed down a good distance from the village.
There is a shuffling in the tunnels.


"What?"
Some other gogs hold up signs saying 'open door' and 'darkness'.


He nudged his horse back towards her, and said more normally, "The Death card does mean change."
AGATA
Oy, human. Open that door again.


"So why didn't they know that, then?" she shouted back.
Nolan holds up a sign that says 'a master'.


"Oh, you know," he said. "It's practically the end of the world out here. Folks have their superstitions and paranoias. Makes them happy."
The gogs still and lower their signs.


"Happy?" Suddenly she realised the other fellow had drawn ahead and was meandering off into a stand of trees. "Oy!" she yelled after him and tried to urge the horse along faster, though it would have nothing of it.
Nolan turns and opens the door again.


The robed man, however, got the message and caught up with the other fellow's horse and pulled it back onto the path.
The heartbeat reverberates against the dark. Echoes whisper.


Oh blimey, Coraline thought to herself.
Agata sniffs at the darkness, her ears back.


AGATA
Witch.
What do you see?


CORALINE
(coming a bit closer)
Darkness, and a door with no hinges or frame.


They continued until around nightfall, stopping in a small hollow as the fogs set in.
AGATA
Wizard, what about you?


The robed man gathered logs from some nearby trees. The horses were tethered nearby. Coraline was left to mind the other fellow, which was to say to keep him from wandering off. Apparently he did that a lot, and in the fog it could have been particularly problematic.
KIT
(also coming over)
Concur with the witch?


And it was all fogs this side of the mountains, it seemed - it didn't even freeze, just fogged and mugged, making everything damp and then, once they'd all sat down, ruining the robed fellow's attempts to start a fire.
AGATA
(shaking her head like an irate cat)
Close your eyes, both of you, and look properly.


Coraline watched him try a few more times and then just stood up and shot the kindling with her staff.
CORALINE
Eh?


He looked at her consideringly as she sat back down before the now roaring fire. The other fellow didn't seem to notice at all.
Regardless, they do.


"So," she said.
At first nothing stands out, but then, without eyes, the doorway comes into focus. There is a frame, and beyond it, not darkness at all, but light. Humming. Pulsating.


"So," he said.
The voices whisper strangely around, distorted. Something else lingers behind.


"Who, exactly, are you people?" she asked.
KIT
I see a frame.


The man smiled nervously. "Well, I'm Darren Costa." He gestured toward the other fellow. "This is Merrs."
CORALINE
It's bright. Alive. There's something... familiar...


Coraline said, "Hi."
Kit opens his eyes.


"Hi," Costa said.
KIT
It hears us. Feels us.


Merrs said nothing, and simply stared into the fire, or possibly through it. It was hard to tell.
Agata hisses.


"I'm Gloria," Coraline said. It was a name that meant nothing, simply there for the taking and leaving, one she used from time to time for lack of any better. At the moment, she realised she was more interested in watching Merrs. She got the strange feeling that the fellow didn't necessarily live in quite the same world as anyone else. He was almost like a trainwreck, but without the train. Or possibly the wreck.
ERRY
(shouting)
Close it, close it put it away get it away out out out of my head it's in my head it's... in...


Costa nodded. "You're free to go your own way from here, of course," he said. "I didn't feel proper letting anything happen there, but... well, this wasn't a kidnapping, I assure you. I mean..." he looked flustered. "It was for your own good."
Erry collapses behind them.


"Right..." Coraline said, and laughed. He looked more worried than threatening, so she said, "It's fine. I'm headed this way anyhow, and a horse makes it a lot faster."
Jora hurries over to Erry.


"Erm." Now he looked really flustered.
Nolan shoves at the door, but it doesn't close.


She looked at him with growing amusement. She couldn't help it. "You stole the horse, didn't you?"
KIT
{{incantation|I hear...}}


"I didn't know what else to do!" Costa said. "It was entirely improper, heat of the moment, but... but... I didn't know what to do!"
Kit starts to walk toward it, but Coraline knocks him down and shoots at the door with her staff. The first blast disappears into the dark, so she shoots the frame, instead, narrowing the blasts, intensifying the heat, making them resonate with the same energies as the frame itself.


"Yeah, whatever," Coraline said. "So you stole a horse. Not exactly a mortal sin, is it?"
The frame begins to unravel, and she finishes it, slicing it to pieces with the bladed wings.


"Well..."
The brightness fades. The voices return to normal.


"No," Merrs said. "To save an innocent, a theft is hardly mortal sin."
Coraline opens her eyes.


"Innocent, are you?" Coraline said.
The open doorway is gone. The strange hum is gone. Only a burnt, bent, gashed door remains on the ground, torn off its imaginary hinges.


Merrs simply stared at her, or possibly through her.
Hundreds of gogs stare silently.


Costa looked away, but all the same he nodded. He looked relieved.
Nolan holds up a sign that says 'irrelevant'.


Strange people, Coraline thought to herself as they sorted out dinner. Gnawing on some dried fruit, she poked for stories.
NOLAN
You don't need to open doors. You need paper and a purpose. I will teach you.


She didn't get a whole lot. The town they'd just passed through was called Aeries. It turned out Costa was some sort of priest, hence the robes, and Merrs some sort of holy man whom Costa was trying to escort to... somewhere. Costa didn't seem particularly inclined to go into details, skirting around further questions like a glob of butter in a particularly problematic batch of cake, and Merrs just didn't seem particularly inclined to say much of anything.
Nolan walks over to a seemingly random gog tunnel and stares at the gogs occupying it.


They didn't seem averse to her travelling with them for a time, however; Costa even seemed glad of it when she asked. Whatever the details were, there would be time yet for her to find out.
One of them holds up a sign uncertainly: 'forward'.


The night settled like velvet.
Coraline glances over to Agata, who simply sits watching.


Costa watched the east, back the way they had come, though in the fog there was nothing to see.
CORALINE
What was that?


Merrs twirled a knife. It glinted in the light from the fire, but the effect was dulled by the fog.
AGATA
A teaching moment.


The flames danced and cackled, ushering Coraline into Nightmare.
Kit gets up, looking confused.


==== Cross-country ====
KIT
What? Erry?


The days passed with the horses comfortably clomping along through hills and valleys, leafless trees scattered throughout the land almost at random. It was very green.
JORA
She's alive, but unconscious.


The cold continued to manifest as an insidious wetness that seeped into the bones as they rode through clouds and rain alike. Coraline's thick coat had not been made for this, but her new companions fared no better with their layers and cloaks.
Nolan continues to stare at the gogs in the tunnel. Slowly the gogs in it shuffle about, and then start to get out of the way. The gogs in the other tunnels, too, begin to disperse, pouring out into the chamber and scuttling after Nolan.


There was little to say, and less energy with which to say it. Merrs tried to wander off a few more times.
Nolan heads into the cleared tunnel.


Coraline asked Costa why he didn't just tie the guy down. Put him on a leash or something.
JORA
Get your sister back to town.


"It would be wrong," he said. "There has been too much of that already."
Jora hurries after Nolan.


He would say no more on it.
KIT
I suppose we can just let him do his thing.


Simply riding and stopping. Stopping and riding. Setting the horses to graze, hunting in the meantime. Flames to suck the moisture out of the air, flames that roared and whispered, hissing secrets that nobody heard. Stars that tried to come out but quickly retreated when they did. The odd comment about ferns. Merrs saying something about how unnecessary this was, really, Costa could just leave him. An exasperated explanation from Coraline why it was so important to boil creekwater before drinking it that wound up completely lost on them.
Kit peers after them longingly.


Once Coraline heard a sort of thimphk sound off the road, but there was no indication what might have caused it. The others never even looked up.
CORALINE
Oh, just go. See what happens, blow everything up if you have to. I'll take care of your sister.


The rain erased all.
Kit runs off almost immediately.


Another night Merrs asked Coraline just where it was she had come from. She was different, he said, not like anyone he'd ever seen.
Coraline kneels next to Erry and places a hand on her chest, using her healing senses to give the girl a proper go-over. Overall, she seems to be fine. There's a general sense of exhaustion and a bit of a darkness lingering in her mind, but no real sign of overt damage or anything particularly alien.


She shook her head and made an excuse. Later, she said. She was trying to dry her coat.
AGATA
Well, he clearly cares.


Later came, and as the others slept - Costa by the fire, Merrs sprawled half over one of the horses as it slept, and the other two horses standing nearby - Coraline wondered just what she could say. To anyone. Though these didn't want to trust her for whatever reason, she doubted she could trust them either. She doubted she could trust anyone in this world, really, and that was a problem. Worlds this backwater were dangerous. She wasn't sure how she knew that, but the certainty was clear in her mind. She tended to trust her mind. It was smarter than it looked.
CORALINE
He's what, twelve? What do you expect?
(she picks up Erry)
Ugh, she's heavy.


And yet here she had the entire world to work with, and she didn't even know it enough to make something up that would fit. She might as well say she was from somewhere in the vicinity of Betelgeuse.
AGATA
Or perhaps you're just weak.


Perhaps she ''would'' say she was from somewhere in the vicinity of Betelgeuse.
CORALINE
I'm definitely weak. But she's also heavy. These are not exclusive things.


She flipped the unusual coin and caught it on her hand. Skull side up, masked like the Reaper. It felt like death.
Coraline tries again, this time hoisting Erry across her shoulders in a fireman's carry.


In the morning she fried some potatoes and onions in fat, mixed in some dried meat and a bit of salt, and declared it breakfast. It was strange, not just because because the end result actually looked edible, but also because it was also the first whole meal anyone in the party had offered to share.


Merrs tried it first. He said nothing, and simply passed the pan to Costa, who tasted a tentative spoonful and then looked really surprised. "This actually tastes good," he said.
INT. Molstead temple - late morning


"Gee, thanks," Coraline said, but despite her tone, she found herself smiling, and noticed Merrs was as well.
Coraline pries the temple door open with a mostly free hand and sidles in.


Costa looked embarrassed. "Er," he said, "I didn't mean it like that."
Davis and Cormith are in a corner talking to their intern, KILBETH.


Coraline just shrugged, and they passed the pan around a few more times until it was all gone. Coraline told them a bit about what she'd had growing up, where she was from, the food, the lifestyle. But she was also vague, leaving out names and other details about the world itself, as well as the specifics of how she had gotten where she had, only implying that there had been some sort of magical accident.
KILBETH
Are you sure about that?


"You're not from the outer planes, are you?" Costa asked as he gave the now empty pan back to Coraline.
DAVIS
Yes.


Scraping out a few burnt bits, she laughed and said no, she didn't think so, and started banging the pan on a rock in lieu of a real cleaning.
KILBETH
Are you sure you're sure?


Costa went to pack up and ready the horses, and Coraline realised that Merrs' was staring at her.
Davis turns to look at Coraline pleadingly.


"Something on my nose?" she asked it. It looked away.
CORALINE
Cormith! You're a real healer, right? Could you give me a hand with this girl?


They were soon on the move once more.
CORMITH
(hurrying over, looking relieved)
What seems to be the matter?


==== Bandits ====
Coraline passes Erry over to Cormith, and he takes the girl, holding her much more gently than Coraline had been.


The day decided to be weird. The clouds largely cleared up and the sun came out and shone like anything, come afternoon. The others remarked at her sunglasses, which probably were a wee bit out of place, but she didn't care.
CORALINE
Something up in her headbrains. I didn't want to try anything for fear of making it worse.
{{idioma|Tai jotakin sinne päi.|translation|Or something like that.}}


It was almost warm. Merrs drew well ahead, but Costa let him; he was headed in the right direction and the visibility was excellent.
CORMITH
I... see. I'll see what I can do.
(casting over Erry)
{{incantation|What brains?}}


"So Costa," Coraline said, "what's your story, anyhow?"
Cormith carries Erry off into the next room.


He gave her a calculating look, then said, "Buh."
CORALINE
Great. In the meantime I think I'm going to get myself reacquainted with your floor.


Coraline lies down heavily on the floor, sprawling across the stone.


===== Nargle =====
CORALINE
(mumbling)
Hello, floor. You're a nice floor.


Davis looms overhead.


"I'm a priest of Azorres."
DAVIS
Are, um, are you all right?


She almost asked if Azorres was a god, but then said more vaguely, "Tell me about Azorres." No point coming across as ''that'' clueless, even if she really was.
Kilbeth looms from the other side.


He looked at her sceptically. "You'd ask a priest about a god? That's pretty much the only sure way to get a completely biased response."
Coraline lethargically holds up a thumb, and then tries to actually put it up relative to the rest of her hand, though it only sort of works due to the angle.


Well, that answered the first question, at least. "Why not?" she asked. "Biased or not, you'd probably know more than most, at least."
Agata climbs onto Coraline's chest and sits down, a paw very firmly on Coraline's boob.


"Well," he said, "let's just say I'm not the sort of priest who goes out preaching to the masses."
CORALINE
(recoiling)
Agh, cat!


"So what do you do?"
AGATA
She's fine.


He hesitated, then shrugged and said, "It has been my life's work to seek out and, if possible, bring forth the Light of Azorres," Costa said. "A chosen one who would lead the faithful, acting as a guiding star in the world of the living, out of their suffering."
CORALINE
Well, I ''was'', back when I could actually breathe!


They rode in silence for a moment, then it hit her like a brick through mud, which is to say very, very slowly. "Merrs?"
Davis picks up Agata.


"So it would seem."
Coraline very hastily gets up and then nearly falls over again immediately after, grabbing Davis' arm to stabilise herself.


"So what exactly..." she trailed off as they topped a small hilly thing. Merrs had stopped ahead, held up by a group of what appeared to be bandits of some sort. "...do they want?"
DAVIS
(sounding very concerned)
Are you sure you're all right?


"Agh!" Costa yelled, and drove his horse forward.
CORALINE
I'm just tired. And blood pressure.
(she takes Agata off him)
I'm fine. Nothing to be worried about. You know the gogs in the woods had a door to horrible black nothing? Because the gogs in the woods had a door that opened up to horrible black nothing. Is that normal?


There were four of them. They seemed to be telling Merrs to get off his horse, or something along those lines. Whatever it was, he wasn't doing it, instead just sitting there, apathetically ignoring them as they shoved swords at him and yelled crudely.
DAVIS
There are stories of Gateways opening to other realms. Often the entities beyond them are less than friendly.


Costa, of course, was yelling at the top of his lungs as well as he approached, trying to get their attention. Finally he got it and they turned toward him instead.
CORALINE
Sure, except this was a door. Like that one.
(she indicates a completely ordinary door to a back room)
Wooden. With a knob. It had a heartbeat.
I kind of maybe slightly sort of destroyed it.


"Oh, look what we have here, gents!" one of them said, probably the leader. The bandit swaggered forward as Merrs slid sideways off his horse behind him. "Reinforcements!"
DAVIS
The heartbeat or the door?


"You rat bastards!" Costa screamed. Suddenly the sky was full of lightning, cracking and thundering even without couds. Then it struck, shaking the very ground and obliterating three of the four bandits in an instant. The last bandit, who had escaped through some stroke of luck, fled. The horses bolted, at least the ones with riders, leaving Costa clinging for dear life in an attempt to get his back under control, and Coraline on the ground not far away where hers had thrown her.
CORALINE
The... door.


For some reason Merrs' was still just standing there.
Davis nods slowly.


Coraline dusted herself off as she got up, but she seemed to be fine, nothing broken. Merrs, on the other hand, wasn't moving. As she walked toward him, she raised the staff and fired, hitting the fleeing bandit in the back. She watched the man fall without expression, and only as she dropped to her knees beside him did a look of concern cross her face.


"Merrs?" she said, rolling him over.
EXT. Granny Höhrmann's place - noonish


He groaned. There was blood on his jacket. It seemed one of the bandits had thought it funny to poke him when he didn't cooperate.
Granny Höhrmann's place is a cottage on the other end of town. It is suitably rustic. It has extensive flower gardens. It has grass and a small tree growing on the roof. A goat is tied to a log.


"You idiot." She said, pushing aside a few layers of shirts and jackets to find the wound in his gut, still bleeding. It looked deep, but she didn't know how deep especially with all the blood. Whatever the case, she also had absolutely no idea what to do about it - even if she could stop the bleeding, there were probably some important organs in there, and such.
Coraline wanders over and knocks on the front door, Agata slung under an arm.


So she put her hand on it, instead, because that totally made sense, feeling the blood and the heat and the sense of pain and hurt, and then there were voices rising all around her, a strange sensation of drowning in nothing, and after the screaming, only blackness.
There's no response.


== Hurk ==
Coraline heads around back. Agata hangs limply.


GRANNY HÖHRMANN is sitting under a tree with a cat on her lap. They appear to be having a staring contest.


Coraline walks over and stares at both of them for a bit.


CORALINE
(finally)
What are you doing?


Coraline woke to the cackle of flames: hissing, spitting, the fire babbled to itself in its own strange secret language. Twilight glowed off the broken clouds, mirroring the colours of the flames across the landscape.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
Arguing with my cat.


She sat up, rubbing her head.
AGATA
Are you winning?


"Darren's still trying to find your horse," Merrs said beside her. She started; she hadn't realised he was there.
Granny Höhrmann looks up in surprise at Agata and squints a bit.


"What..." she began, then stopped. "Oh. Are you okay?"
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
Mad Anna's cat, isn't it?


"No worse for wear," he said, closing his eyes. "It is a rare gift you have."
AGATA
Not anymore.


"Gift?"
CORALINE
So you know each other?


"The ability to heal with a touch is not one the gods easily bestow. Tell me, which has touched you..." He paused, almost, but not quite, imperceptibly. "Gloria?"
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
Knew Mad Anna.


"No gods," Coraline said wearily, then stopped. "Unless you mean... literally?"
CORALINE
What about her cat?


He raised an eyebrow.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
Might be it.


"Er," she said. "Nevermind."
CORALINE
She says I'm a witch.


He smiled. "Oh, but you are a mystery."
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
Might be.


"I could say the same of you," Coraline muttered.
There's a long silence as Granny Hörmann goes back to staring at her cat.


Merrs said nothing, and simply looked away.
CORALINE
So... who's winning the argument?


She didn't feel quite right. In fact she felt kind of terrible, with everything just sort of blah, and no hope of anything ever not being blah. Why was she even here? There never had been many folks around who had been inclined to put up with her long-term. Was that why?
Granny Höhrmann frowns.


And what had she done since she'd wound up here, Coraline wondered. Walked a lot. Wound up nowhere. Killed some folks, at least one of whom she couldn't even recall for some reason. Probably killed an elf. Caused someone to steal a horse.
AGATA
Apparently the cat.


Then her mental defenses kicked in and she found herself thinking about bunnies. Cute, fluffy, village-eating bunnies. Because bunnies were nice and scary.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
What do you think, Samaritan?


She realised the coin was in her hand, so she flipped it. Skull-side up. Death. Like what happens around bunnies.
Granny Höhrmann's cat, SAMARITAN, turns to regard Coraline and Agata.


SAMARITAN
(yawning)
What is it, then? What are your knacks?


CORALINE
My what, now?


They looked up as they heard Costa return, noticeably without a second horse. He waved, dismounted, tripped on a rock, and fell on his face.
SAMARITAN
You're a witch, you got knacks. What are you good at?


Coraline stared for a moment in surprise. She realised Merrs, too, was staring, and snapped out of it, going to help Costa up.
Coraline glances at Agata.


"I'm fine," he said, shoing her away tiredly. "We're all fine. Thanks to you."
AGATA
Drinking, mostly.


"Erm," Coraline said. Was it thanks to her? She sort of doubted that, since she'd been the one who'd distracted him in the first place.
CORALINE
Hitting things with heavy objects?


He didn't seem to notice. "Anyway, I found your bag, at least. Here." He passed it over and sat by the fire. "No dinner, then?"
AGATA
While drinking.


"Hah!" Coraline laughed. "I haven't really been conscious long enough to do anything, and Merrs... well, you know Merrs," Coraline sat back down as well between them. Merrs never had been one to bother cooking. She had this nagging feeling he would have probably just let himself slowly starve if she and Costa hadn't specifically been giving him food on a fairly regular basis.
CORALINE
Yes.


"I'm kidding," Costa said. "That's fine. Travel food doesn't really need... ungh." He slumped forward.
AGATA
Possibly hitting things with objects drinking out of.


Coraline shook her head bemusedly. "Damn, man, you really are tired, aren't you."
CORALINE
I do that sometimes too.


"My own fault," he said. "Channelling that kind of energy takes its toll, but I didn't really stop to think about it at all, you know? Gods, if they'd really killed him..."
AGATA
I'm not surprised.


Merrs looked at Costa with that same unreadable expression. He seemed almost concerned, however. Almost.
CORALINE
Still want me for a witch?


"Yeah, I know," Coraline said. "It's fine. I'll find everyone something to eat, just pass me your bag or something. And then we can all just sleep. No problem. Tomorrow'll be better."
AGATA
Will you stop carrying me like a pile of logs?


He nodded gratefully and did as she said. Didn't think, just passed the bag and stared into the fire.
CORALINE
Maybe. Depends on your answer.


Coraline took the opportunity to check out what else he had in there as she fetched some food for everyone, of course, but there didn't seem to be anything particularly interesting. Just the usual travel stuff, from the look of it. Some holy symbols. A book in a script that seemed to shimmer before her eyes, sending whispers through her mind.
Granny Höhrmann bursts out laughing.


She realised Merrs was watching her again, and passed out dinner.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
Oh, you two are perfect for each other. And here me and Samaritan just argue all the time, but you... you'll spend a lifetime cracking each other up.


Costa ate without paying much attention at all and fell asleep almost immediately. Merrs drifted off pretty quickly too, but Coraline wasn't really tired. Probably something about having already spent most of the afternoon unconscious - maybe she had just been asleep? It was hard to say. And what had been that screaming? It had sounded so familiar, as though it were something she knew well, something that had always been there.
There's an awkward silence.


Coraline stared into the flames, but they were just flames. They weren't even talking, just curling around the settling coals as the night wore on and the stars come out. She saw the Thing That Looks Almost Like The Pleiades But Isn't, now near the horizon, and the Ravenous Thing That Hates Eyeballs over there, and they gave her comfort of a sort. At least there were some things about this place that made sense. Some that tied it to home, any home at all. Even if she had just named them herself after she'd arrived.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
What's the matter? Spit it out.


And there was the coin. She wasn't at all sure where it had come from, either - had it belonged to the priestess? Had it just been there before? Or something else? Why couldn't she remember? There was something about it that just seemed important for some reason, but whatever it was eluded her. Perhaps that had also been why she had picked it up in the first place.
Coraline puts down Agata.


She looked at it in the light of the fire. The mask was very much like the one she had in her notebook, really, and the scales... she felt like she'd seen those somewhere too. But flipping it, it always fell skull-side up. Mask-side up. Death-side.
Samaritan jumps off Granny Höhrmann's lap and the two cats sniff at each other.


She flipped it. Death.
CORALINE
Let's pretend I have much of a lifetime left. Is this where my magic is from? Do cats just... normally show up? What exactly are witches?
(quietly)
Will this... help?


Flipped it again. Death.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
Witches are. You're born to it, to your knacks. What you do with it is up to you, but it is yours.
As for whether it'll help you or not, I rather think that'll be up to you.
Don't screw it up.


Again. Death.
CORALINE
So it's a tool.


Death.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
Exactly.


Death.
CORALINE
And I've got a cat who is also a tool.


Might as well be jelly and ice cream, she supposed.
AGATA
Appropriate, for you.


SAMARITAN
A cat and her witch, you're bound together. You'll share all your power and knowledge. You'll be allies whether you want to or not.


Samaritan stares at Agata.


Come morning, the question, of course, was now what? They were down a horse. Would they all just walk? Share horses? Leave Coraline behind? But despite her suggesting that last one herself, the others wouldn't hear of it.
AGATA
I chose her carefully.
Her knacks are... different. She can heal, and I bet we could kill. Anything.


But she felt kind of bad about all this, really - they really hadn't needed her along, or to have had to deal with her. It had just sort of happened. And now she slowing them down.
Agata bares her teeth for a moment, and then it turns into a yawn. Samaritan yawns as well.


"Gloria," Costa said when she brought this up, "Shut up."
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
(to Coraline)
And Anna was all about the fire, so you might find you've some skill with that, too, now.


She didn't have a counterpoint prepared for such a sophisticated argument.
CORALINE
And what about our snark? We get to share that, too?


"Let's walk," Merrs said. "It's nice enough. Might as well."
Agata's voice resonates in Coraline's mind, like the constant voices around, but different.


And that was that. They walked toward the west, toward the sea, however far it was. The river way back where she'd begun had seemed to think there was one, at any rate. So she asked about the geography - what country was this? What else was around? She explained that she'd come up through... well, she wasn't really sure, frankly. She had been heading north toward Aeries, but there had been a river along the way...?
AGATA
(mind voice)
''Always.


"Verash. And that would have been the Ekreath," Costa said. "Heads west and south until it hits the Deerid Sea. So you would have been coming up the East Road through Hadrin, then? You must have passed through Kalona..."
CORALINE
(mind voice)
''Agata? How... we just talk. And nobody else hears?


"Dead," she said. "All dead."
AGATA
(mind voice)
''Mostly.


He sighed, but looked concerned. "Then the rumours are true. The madness came and went?"
Coraline stares at the cats.


Coraline nodded. She couldn't really bring herself to say anything.
CORALINE
{{idioma|Perkele}}. I get all the worst and best things in my life. Horrid luck. Great luck.
Ghaaah.


Merrs said nothing as well.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
(nodding)
Sounds like life, that.
Go on and learn.


"What did you see?" Costa asked.
Granny Hörmann waves dismissively.


"Nothing ''to'' see. There was only death."


It was much easier to converse on foot, leading the remaining horses. Finding things to converse about was another matter.
INT. Molstead Inn - afternoon


=== Descent ===
It is later. The elf has wandered off for the day, and the spare gog is likewise nowhere to be found. Coraline is doing inn-y things, setting up for the evening, coordinating with Jess. Tress rubs against her legs from time to time, almost tripping her occasionally.


Later, there was another thumphk behind them.
Agata watches from a shelf.


"Anvils," one of the horses said. At least Coraline thought it had, though in all likelihood she had simply imagined it. It was easy to conjure up words in the voices of her mind, after all. Unless she suddenly understood horse speak too.
CORALINE
(mind voice)
''Agata?


She didn't go back to investigate.
AGATA
(mind voice)
''Yes?


CORALINE
(mind voice)
''Are you okay with this? With me, what I am?


AGATA
(mind voice)
''I knew. Soon as I smelled you, I knew. You're a Carrier, but there's more to you than that. You've got darkness in you, and secrets. But also {{idioma|sisu}}. What is {{idioma|sisu}}?


Later in the day they took to the horses again. Coraline now rode with Merrs; despite concerns of overburdening, both of were fairly small and it seemed to work just fine.
CORALINE
(mind voice)
''It means a lot of things. In this case, I guess it might mean survival.


Even concerns of awkwardness were allayed when it was discovered that two people zoning out on one horse was pretty much the same as two people zoning out on two horses, though it did mean Costa didn't have to worry about Merrs wandering off anymore. Now he had to worry about both of them wandering off instead, because for whatever reason, Coraline wasn't really paying attention anymore.
AGATA
(mind voice)
''Yes. Your courage, your grit. Determination and focus, even against impossible odds. The hallmarks of a good witch. {{idioma|Sisukas.}}


She fiddled with her coin from time to time. Untended fields drifted in and out of view. Birds shrieked as they passed.
CORALINE
(mind voice)
''I'm going to die. I may kill a lot of others, and worse, in the process.


The day settled in silence and died as they made camp. Shadows painted the night amidst a chittering of insects. It sounded like spring.
AGATA
(mind voice)
''And when that happens, I'll find another witch.


They continued on. Mornings, evenings, afternoons.
Coraline looks up from scooting out a table.


A deer, or something deer-like, darted in front of them and Coraline pulled her staff free from the saddle straps and shot it. Her aim was getting good, even from horseback, though she accidentally smacked Merrs with the butt of the staff in the process.
Agata peers down at her imperiously, purring, and closes her eyes.


"Sorry," she said. "Reflex."
</screenplay>
 
He said nothing.
 
Costa dismounted and gave the deer a poke. "Well," he said, "that's a kill."
 
They made camp then and there. Costa showed Coraline how to properly butcher a large animal, since she'd only ever fudged the smaller ones, and while he set up a smoker, she and Merrs went about getting the rest of the meat off the bones.
 
"All this meat," Coraline said. "Just imagine if it were to sprout fangs and start squelching around."
 
"Um... what?" Costa looked back at her, confused.
 
"Nevermind," she said with a smile. Fanged hams were probably ''not'' something that they would understand as a general concept.
 
Piles of meat grew around them. They ate a fair bit of it as they went as well, roasting it in the flames.
 
"You're not going home, are you?" Merrs said quietly.
 
Coraline shook her head. "I don't know. I really don't." She decided to try shifting the subject. "Where are you guys headed?"
 
"Telegrin."
 
"Whatsit?"
 
"It's a port town. Costa thinks to purchase passage by ship from there, but it won't work."
 
"Oh," she said. "Why not?"
 
"I don't know."
 
They hung the strips over the smoky fire, with the hide serving as a partial enclosure to keep more of the smoke in.
 
"Nice," Coraline said when it was all set up.
 
"Leave it overnight and it should all be done come morning," Costa said. "Need to keep it going, though." It was getting late already, and chilly, but after all the smoke and meat, being near the fire was now proving a bit much for them.
 
"Right, stay put," Coraline said. "I'ma get some wood for another fire."
 
"Always burning. Everything is always burning," Merrs said as she headed off into the fading light.
 
But she grinned to herself as she headed toward the trees. Though she'd kept it to herself as they'd ridden, she was feeling strangely happy. This, these people, they reminded her of a mystery, and they didn't even mind having her around. And there were words. Words that meant more than words.
 
And there was magic! She practically bounced at that. This world had magic. It very definitely had magic. And gods. And magic. And horrible curse-like plagues.
 
And magic.
 
Coraline had always wanted magic. Through her entire life, it had been a bit of a dream, a longing, a need for something more beyond the bland, bland world to which she belonged. Eventually she'd grown up a bit and her focus had shifted to words, which were their own sort of magic - the only magic her world had - and to dreams, where it didn't matter what was real and what wasn't. But dreams ended. Worlds faded as she always awoke, and after that there were only words. Sweet, sweet, tantalising words that still left her wanting at the end, because they, too, were never enough.
 
So she had pushed it away, that want, that need, and she had dreamed amidst her hoarded words.
 
But now she was here. And here there was magic. And it was real.
 
She wanted to be excited. She was excited. She wanted to sing and dance and shout into the wind, but the wind was elsewhere, taking the evening off. Something about it felt off.
 
And that's where the uncertainty crept in. Something wasn't right, because it couldn't be.
 
It couldn't be real. There was no way it could be real. It hadn't happened. None of it had happened.
 
Had she simply hit her head, lost her mind, fallen into a fugue? Was she simply sitting in some white cell back in that world she had 'left', blind to the walls around her? Dreaming up a new life? A new reality? A new world with simple answers and big dreams and strange magics... and escape.
 
A way out.
 
She was a coward. After everything, she had proven a coward. All the dreams of being strong. All the daydreams and the nightmares and the playing with swords, after the chainmail shirts and the trebuchets and the illusions of power. Even when her parents had told her, no, no, little girls are not Roman soldiers, little girls are not alien commanders, they're...  princesses or something, she had still wanted to fight, to take on the world, to be that elf on the elephant, leading the army into the light. And a princess too, of course, but not just ''any'' princess. But then the brick of real life had hit her, and after everything she wasn't a princess at all. Not any princess. And she couldn't handle it.
 
And now here she was. Playing the hero, the strong, the gal who had everything in order save for a place to belong, because in this place that she had escaped to, she could never belong. There was no way. No way at all.
 
It wasn't real.
 
Some day she would awaken only to suffer for this silly dream, as she had suffered for all the others. As everyone had always said she would, from all of those that had come before. There would be no option to simply 'show them', for there was never anything to show.
 
The realisation hit her like real life all over again. That horrible search for a job. That wave of despair, those months teetering on the edge, those stories and dreams and words that had kept her afloat through it all, but only barely. That final surrender before it all ended. Here she was, wherever she was, alone. Hopeless. No future at all, just useless and dreaming. Hiding behind her dreaming, but the dreaming was shallow and it could not protect her. Nothing could protect her.
 
She heard them now, through the silky darkness of the night, the voices of her past and present. Calling out to her. Laughing. Mocking. Wondering. They didn't even care, for she was already lost, but sometimes they wondered. Whatever had happened to Coraline? Whatever had happened to that gal down the block, that girl in Databases who had always dressed up, that barrista with the funny hair? Oh, but she had failed, disappeared, fallen off the radar, never made it anywhere, not even out her own front door. They mocked and they chattered and they questioned. Who are you, little dreamer? Who do you think you are? Did you really believe it could be true? Are you this silly, this hopeless, this ridiculous? Oh, you pathetic little girl, you, who could not even handle real life!
 
Voices that rose around her, shrouding like a second night, voices that called to her fears and failings, voices that reminded her of who she had been and what she had lost, voices that left no room for escape, not now, not this time. And other voices too. Others which were not her own, others which were older, stranger, but just as bereft of hope as she was.
 
As the blackness pulled her under, there was not even silence in its shadows.
 
=== Voices ===
 
She woke screaming. She couldn't help it, couldn't stop. Then the others were holding her down, holding her back, gagging her, silencing here, but even still she tried to scream, scream through the cacophony, scream for silence and respite, for an end, for an escape.
 
And then she realised it was gone, it was over, whatever it was, and finally stopped. She was alive, and free, and here, and here there were no voices, just the wind's singing, just Costa holding her back and Merrs peering down curiously, just her overwhelming exhaustion, just a bird calling out to the day.
 
"Gloria?" Costa said.
 
She nodded slightly.
 
"If I take this out, you're not going to start up again, are you?"
 
She shook her head, and he ungagged her. She tried to sit up and had some trouble at first, but then managed it. She was so tired. She couldn't recall ever being so tired.
 
"The hell?" she said weakly.
 
"I could ask you that," Costa said. "What happened? Do you know?"
 
She shook her head. "How... I feel awful." Merrs sat down beside her. They were by the smoker, now cold and empty, at the campsite that had not yet been built. It was midday and the sun was gleaming with the brilliant force of spring, but though the day itself was warm, she felt cold, even wrapped in her coat.
 
"You've been out an entire day," Costa said, giving her some dried yam. "We found you by the trees, unconscious, but when I tried to heal you it was as though nothing was wrong. Nothing physically, at least."
 
"Oh," Coraline said.
 
"Oh?" Merrs queried.
 
She didn't know what to say. Was this... she didn't even want to think it. So instead she chewed on the yam and stared at the ground. Nice, solid ground. Lots of dirt and rocks and little half-dead plants and bits of twiggy things.
 
"Has anything like this happened before?" Merrs asked.
 
She shook her head. Not like this. She had heard voices before, but those had been... different? Quieter? Her own? It ''had'' been like what she had heard when she'd apparently healed Merrs, she realised, but that time they had stopped when she had blacked out, not like this. This had been so much worse. And this time there had been a feeling that had come with them. A sense of space, of vastness.
 
The voices, though. How long had she heard them, whispering at the edge of consciousness, bubbling up in everyday, mundane things?
 
"When I healed you," she said. "It was kind of like that, only not really."
 
"And you feel better now?" he asked.
 
"Better," she said. "I feel like I got eaten by cat with a gizzard full of toasters."
 
"But it already happened, and now it's over." Merrs said. "Now you feel better."
 
"That's..." It was a reasonable way to look at things, she supposed. "Sure."
 
Merrs stood and helped her up as well. "Come," he said, taking her arm. "Let's walk."
 
It was difficult at first, as she was quite stiff and quite sore, but as they got moving she began to really feel better. The stiffness and the pain subsided. She realised she was shivering, and drew her coat tighter. But she was all right.
 
Costa caught up a little later with the horses and everything packed up.
 
It was strange going, however. The world felt wrong. Not real. Not like a hallucination, necessarily, but like how it had felt going outside after spending 40-odd hours straight in a basement staring at four computer screens working on her animation final project, getting the last bits of details in the objects, setting up the lights and camera paths, and rendering, rendering, tweaking, and rendering.
 
Then she'd stepped outside with it all on a cd and the real world had just looked wrong. The leaves on the trees both too clear and not clear enough, the sunlight and the shadows too bright and too dark.
 
This felt like that.
 
And it was spring. Finally spring, determinedly spring, green moss and grass gleaming in the sun same as it had previously on the rare occasions the sun had even come out, but now with feeling, and accompanied with buds and new growth. There weren't leaves on the trees yet here for her to gawk at their surreality, but there would be soon.
 
"Blimey," she said to herself.
 
The feeling didn't fade, but it didn't get any weirder, either. Costa scouted around while Coraline and Merrs continued on foot. Keep moving, Merrs said. Keep moving. And so they did.
 
As dusk settled in, Costa returned and brought them on horseback to a nearby farmhouse. A woman was standing outside, an ageing farmer proud of her station, and with reason to be so. The place was well-kept and sturdy, the crop was almost ready to be planted even now, and the animals were tended. She  helped Coraline down when Merrs parked the horse.
 
"No..." Coraline said helplessly. This was bad enough already. She didn't need more. Not more. More? She wasn't even thinking straight.
 
"C'mon, dear, let's get you a bath and a proper bed," the woman said, guiding her inside. "It's all right, your friend explained what's what. Come on."
 
Coraline didn't resist. The evening turned into a blur of warmth, moving from place to place. Soup. Hot water. Merrs gesturing parts of a story. Tea. Bed. Pillow. Sleep. Sweet, proper sleep.
 
=== Farmhouse and no answers ===
 
She woke to whispering, but it wasn't real. Just the voices that wouldn't fade. Voices which had been with her all along, voices that had been almost, but not entirely, out of sight, out of sound, and out of mind. She had not even noticed them even as they had snuck into her conscious thoughts, but they had been there, even then.
 
Now she was aware. That was the only difference. Perhaps they were louder?
 
She curled the pillow around her ears and stared at the ceiling. Bare studs and boards. Rough construction, but solid, like many of the older townhomes where she had grown up.
 
Oh, right, she should probably get out of bed at some point, shouldn't she?
 
Coraline slid over the side of the bed and flopped onto the bedroom floor.
 
Progress. Sort of. She got up and shook herself off. She was wearing a nightgown, but there were clothes laid out on the chair, so she put them on - woollen skirts and a top. Not her style, but clean.
 
When she peered out into the hall, the place was quiet, the other doors shut. She headed downstairs, into the kitchen, and found Merrs at the table with one of her books. He looked up as she entered.
 
"Good morning," he said.
 
"Can you read that?" Coraline asked. It was ''House of Leaves'' - a book that, arguably, wasn't even supposed to be read, at least never in full. She had gotten it for precisely that reason, of course, and never made it past the start, nor started before the middle.
 
"No," he said.
 
"Oh," she said. "You may or may not be missing out." Seeing a pot on the stove, she went to investigate. Food. She got herself a bowl and sat down with Merrs.
 
He was watching her, staring at, or possibly through, her with that same disconcerting look as had grown so familiar.
 
"So..." she began over her porridge.
 
He said nothing.
 
"What's the story? Where are we?"
 
He looked away and said quietly, "You won't last much longer."
 
She stopped in the middle of a heaping spoonful. "What?"
 
"Lydia Morrison owns this place," he said more normally. "In exchange for some venison, she was more than happy to put us up for the night. No lack of space with the rest of her family moved on."
 
"Oh," Coraline said.
 
"Darren is out helping her prepare some of the fields."
 
She nodded.
 
He placed something on the table and slid it toward her. It was her coin. "Why?" he asked. "Why is it always suffering? Why so much pain and loss? Love that leads only to heartbreak, and life that leads only to the coldness of death?"
 
She picked it up and turned it over in her hands. "Because."
 
Merrs looked at her.
 
"Because it's life?" Coraline said.
 
"That's all?" he asked.
 
Coraline shrugged. "I could spin you some pretty lies if you'd like, but they wouldn't make things any better."
 
Merrs said nothing, though he seemed to be considering something.
 
"What?" she finally asked.
 
"How did you come by it? That coin."
 
She hesitated, then said, "I'd... rather not say."
 
He sighed. "No," he said. "Kyrule only ever gives them to those who do the most difficult things."
 
"And who is Kyrule?" she asked.
 
"Kyrule, Kheris, Irin. He is the god of death, the only god that all mortals are assured to meet." He paused. "You committed a terrible act, but a necessary one. A life, perhaps. Or more?"
 
"Might have been," Coraline mumbled. Gods watching? Now that was just great.
 
"Then that coin is your reminder that whatever you chose to do, even if you chose without all the facts, you did choose."
 
Coraline stared at it. "And what if I chose wrong?"
 
"You may never know. But that's not what matters, at least to Kyrule. For him, it's that you chose at all. You erred on the side of mercy, even if you couldn't know."
 
"Blugh," she said. "Gods."
 
Merrs looked at her.
 
"What about Azorres?" Coraline asked after a bit. "What's Azorres the god of?"
 
"Life, among other things. But she and Kyrule have far more in common than in contrast."
 
"Because of the other things?"
 
"They are two sides of the same coin. Each gods of mercy in their own ways," he said.
 
Coraline spun the coin on the table. It came to rest, of course, skull-side up. The whispers were quieter, as though they were holding back, waiting for something, but she could hear them even now in the silence of the kitchen.
 
"Why do you want to die, Light of Azorres?" she asked.
 
He didn't answer.
 
She leaned forward, a half-smile on her lips. "Alternately, why were you going through my stuff?"
 
"Darren had hoped to find clues as to what was wrong."
 
"Did he?" Coraline asked hopefully.
 
Merrs shook his head. "The closest was the deathgod's coin, but it's not an answer."
 
There was a slam and a clatter from the back as Costa and the woman, Lydia, came in and got out of their muddy boots.
 
"Oh, hello there," Lydia said. "You look much better today."
 
"I feel better," Coraline said, standing. "I understand I have your hospitality to thank."
 
Lydia beamed at this, but pushed Coraline back into her chair with a surprisingly strong hand as she bustled past. "Oh, don't you get up on my account, dear."
 
Costa snorted and pulled up a chair as well, gratefully sitting down as Lydia bustled around the stove. "So you're all better, then?" he said. "All just a random fluke. Vapours in the air, clearly."
 
"Oh, no," she said. "It's hopeless, see. I'm going to die horribly, and it'll be horrible, and then there will be darkness and plagues and unending winter and a rain of burning dogs."
 
He barked a laugh. "End of the world show, eh?"
 
"Totes," Coraline said with a grin.
 
In the meantime, Lydia cooked up a whopping lunch, or dinner, or possibly supper, refusing any help at all. "You're guests!" she insisted, leaving the others to chat about the weather, and fields, and nothing terribly interesting a all while they waited.
 
After that it was simply a matter of food - not exactly a feast, but certainly a meal Lydia could be proud of. Or so Coraline assumed since Lydia certainly ''seemed'' to be proud of it.
 
Later Coraline managed to help with the dishes while Costa and Merrs tried to figure out how to repair one of the chairs, which wobbled slightly due to a loose joint. She wasn't sure how they intended to do so without glue, but it was funnier to stand back and watch than to intervene, and the rinsewater provided a nice, inconspicuous view.
 
Then Costa sorted it out by stuffing a piece of twine into the gap in the joint. Lydia rolled her eyes but accepted it.
 
 
 
The next morning they bid Lydia goodbye and continued on, ever westward. Coraline didn't mention the voices, but they stayed with her as they travelled on, there but not.
 
 
From there, the trip was largely uneventful, bringing them to the port town Telegrin, and their parting. They passed a few more farms, and bartered warm food and bedding. The voices stayed and chattered, and Coraline said nothing, but Merrs looked on at her with increasing concern as the days went on. Not just through, but at. An anvil fell in the path ahead with a loud thnkth.
 
As they passed the small crater, Costa remarked, "An anvil."
 
Merrs' horse coughed. Coraline could have sworn she heard words in it. Something along the lines of "Told you so."
 
"What does it mean?" she asked.
 
"A beginning," Merrs said softly. "A beginning of the end."
 
Costa shook his head, not hearing him. "Sometimes anvils fall from the sky. We don't question it."
 
Coraline gave him an odd look, but obliged as well, and they left the odd twist of metal and rocky hole behind them.
 
 
 
And Telegrin?
 
== Script ==
 
=== Hunting the Carrier ===
 
<screenplay>
EXT. Deep woods - night
 
Two priests, DORANIS and EDRIC, and a deathdealer, NORRIN, are waiting around while some soldiers corner a CARRIER.
 
DORANIS
This is a bad idea. Have I mentioned that?
 
EDRIC
Yes. You've mentioned that.
 
DORANIS
Well, this is a bad idea.
 
EDRIC
Okay.
 
DORANIS
Seriously. This is a bad idea.
 
EDRIC
Yes. You've said.
 
DORANIS
Well, it is.
 
NORRIN
Will you shut up?
 
DORANIS
Sure.
 
Elsewhere, the soldiers have managed to corner the thing and tie it down with nets and crap, so a lieutenant guy comes and gets the priestly folks.
 
LIEUTENANT GUY
Guys, we got the guy. C'mon.
 
DORANIS
What, now?
 
LIEUTENANT GUY
Yeah, man. Y'all should hurry.
 
They follow the guy through some woods and come to where the soldiers have the carrier netted and bound and crap. He's struggling mightily, but the layers of nets and ropes render it entirely ineffective.
 
So they come to the carrier. They stare at the guy for a bit.
 
EDRIC
Huh.
 
DORANIS
I did mention this was a bad idea, yes?
 
EDRIC
(tiredly)
Yes, yes you did.
 
DORANIS
Good, because it totally is.
 
The other two give him irritated looks. The look at the carrier for a bit again.
 
EDRIC
Norrin?
 
NORRIN
(he hesitates)
I dunno, I'm starting to think I might be with Doranis on this one.
 
DORANIS
(he nods)
This is a bad idea.
 
NORRIN
Although I really would appreciate it if he would stop saying that.
 
DORANIS
Well, it is.
 
NORRIN
Yes, we know. But we're here and we have a job to do. Can you do it?
 
EDRIC
Aye.
 
 
----
 
 
It gets away.
 
 
----
 
 
NORRIN
There is only one thing a carrier would go after with such determination.
 
EDRIC
Aye?
 
NORRIN
Another carrier.
</screenplay>
 
=== Festival ===
 
<screenplay>
EXT. FIELD - DAY
 
A woman, CORALINE, is sitting on a fence staring off over a grassy field. She is approached by a robed man, DAVIS.
 
DAVIS
Hey.
Come on. The party's starting.
 
CORALINE
Right.
 
She slides off the fence and they head back toward a village, away from the field and open country.
 
 
EXT. MOLSTEAD VILLAGE GREEN - DAY
 
Folks are still setting up as Davis and Coraline come to the village green, but some folks are already engaged in the festivities, chatting, dancing, eating lunch. Someone plays a fiddle, and someone else sings along - really badly. A few of the kids are helping and/or picking at the food, but most are doing a scavenger hunt. Sometimes some will run through for no apparent reason.
 
MOLLEN, one of the workers, waves to Davis and Coraline from a bar that has been set up under a large tree.
 
MOLLEN
Hey Lyra, all set up! Even got the spout going, and everything you need should be back here.
 
CORALINE
Excellent. Soon, soon, it shall be time to turn this into a real party.
 
MOLLEN
(handing Coraline a remaining bottle as he moves away)
You always say that.
 
CORALINE
And have I ever let down?
 
DAVIS
Well, there was that thing with the...
 
CORALINE
(interrupting him)
Don't answer that.
 
MOLLEN
I'm sure this year will be good.
 
Mollen grins at her, then gestures for Davis to walk with him.
 
MOLLEN
Come on, let us leave the lady to her art.
 
Several kids run past (KIT, NOLAN, ERRY, AND JORA). Kit is in the lead, holding a paper-wrapped stick. Nolan jumps over a barrel and trips, nearly knocking it over. Erry is lagging behind the others.
 
KIT
(not noticing)
This time! This time it'll work!
 
JORA
Hold up! It's too soon!
 
CORALINE
(yelling after them)
Ey, careful!
 
NOLAN
(getting up)
Sorry, Lyra!
 
He hurries off after the others, now racing Erry.
 
CORALINE
(laughing, shaking her head)
Try not to have too much fun.
 
ERRY
(behind the others)
What? What? What are you doing?
I'll tell!
 
Then they're lost in the gathering crowd.
 
 
 
 
Jora lets Kit and Erry's mum know they're heading off...
 
JORA
Denna! We're a heading to the ruins. Should be back by late.
 
DENNA
Aiight, then. Take care of the little'uns for us.
 
JORA
Will!
 
And off they go...
 
 
 
 
 
The kids enter the old ruins outside of town, still at a run, Kit in the lead, moving with purpose. The others are less certain.
 
This had been a city once, a home to the ancient Torini elves, but now few buildings remain standing, let alone intact. Mostly the white stone blocks and columns lie scattered throughout the ferns and grass, with only the odd wall or pillar rising against the green.
 
NOLAN
Kit, wait up! Where are we going?
 
KIT
(slowing)
The centerfold. The last mystery. This time it will be mine.
 
He falls to a walk and the others catch up and gather more around. Erry pushes her way in a moment after.
 
KIT
The mystery is the key to unlock the mystery beyond. It all fits.
 
NOLAN
What is? What are you even talking about?
 
ERRY
Wallets!
 
JORA
The edifice? Ain't nobody's been able to open it since the fall.
 
Kit doesn't respond. They continue on, walking now.
 
NOLAN
You know the scholars have already tried it, right? Whatever you mean to do, they've tried everything, haven't they?
 
KIT
Not everything. Everything would have included something that worked, wouldn't you think?
 
NOLAN
Something new, then?
 
KIT
Not something new. Something old. Older than anything. The Torini were architects, mathematicians. They valued symbols over forms. We enter with a symbol.
 
ERRY
(wide-eyed)
Are those words?
 
They encounter a teenage couple making out behind a low wall.
 
ERRY
Eeeeew!
 
She stops and stares.
 
KIT
Erry! Grow up!
 
The couple look affronted and startled; Jora picks up Erry and starts carrying her away.
 
ERRY
That's horrible! Gerroff! Ew!
 
JORA
Just think, one day that will be you!
 
ERRY
(struggling mightily)
EWWWWWW!
 
 
 
IN FRONT OF THE EDIFICE:
 
The kids are gathered around the door. It is rather impressive, and seems to be glowing or sparkling slightly.
 
Kit frowns at it and generally points the stick, still wrapped in paper, at it.
 
ERRY
(pulling at the paper)
What is it? What is it?
 
NOLAN
It's a stick. Boom.
 
KIT
Symbol and shape. The key is the heart.
(he pauses)
It's a stick.
 
He lifts the stick and points it at the door. After a bit it become clear that he doesn't really know himself what he's doing, but they all just sort of go along with it regardless, watching the door with interest, aside from Erry.
 
Erry makes faces and then picks her nose.
 
JORA
What did it say in the book?
 
KIT
Didn't. It's secrets. Things in books aren't secrets, or they wouldn't be secrets anymore.
 
JORA
So what's supposed to happen?
 
NOLAN
Tried poking it?
 
Kit gives him a sarcastic look, but pokes the door with the stick. The magic sealing the entry sparkles and fades.
 
NOLAN
Did that just...
 
KIT
Woah.
 
Erry runs forward and opens the door, looking inside.
 
JORA
Erry!
(but it's too late to stop her, so she doesn't actually try)
What do you see?
 
She goes to Erry.
 
ERRY
It's dark.
 
The other two enter as well, and the door reseals itself behind them with some sort of ominous sound. Anyway, they enter the edifice. It's awe-inspiring and crap.
 
There's a pause as they all sort of stare around in amazement.
 
NOLAN
Where are the sheep?
 
JORA
Why would there be sheep?
 
NOLAN
Kit said there might be sheep.
 
KIT
There might have been a lot of things. That was sort of the point.
 
 
 
 
 
<discussion of war - battles ranging from Kelgreif to Meristead, Gareth's army passed through Somn's Post, leaving a wake of bodies, who will pick up our lost sons?>
 
<Talk about stuff and things - crops, the war, political crap, glad they recentralised, priests saying the end is coming, yadda>
</screenplay>
 
=== Deathdealer and some guys ===
 
<screenplay>
EXT. SPENT BATTLEFIELD - DUSK
 
It is the aftermath of a battle. There are bodies everywhere, with scavengers picking over the remains as well as some darker creatures skulking about in the long shadows of the dusk: devourers gorging themselves on the carnage, with lurkers and deaders stirring around them.
 
A Deathdealer, VARDAMAN, is striding through the field of dead, stepping over the bodies. He blasts devourers away (they dissolve or something) with a staff without slowing.
 
He blasts at some human SCAVENGERS as he passes as well, but it only serves to blind them momentarily.
 
SCAVENGER 1
Ey! Watch it! We's livings.
 
VARDAMAN
(facing away)
Living's so low you would prey on the dead? You oughtn't be.
 
SCAVENGER 2
(waving a pair of shoes)
Yeah.
 
SCAVENGER 1
(drawing a stolen sword, but struggling with the scabbard)
Watch yourn, Hunter, or I'll show you deaders.
 
SCAVENGER 2
Yeah?
 
VARDAMAN
(turning)
Try it.
 
Scavenger 1 suddenly looks uncertain, then manages to fully draw the sword.
 
SCAVENGER 2
Yeah!
 
VARDAMAN
(he laughs)
Funny.
Get out of here. Night's falling.
 
SCAVENGER 1
Ey, we're not idges, afraid of a few deaders.
 
SCAVENGER 2
Yeah!
 
VARDAMAN
I won't guard you, then.
 
SCAVENGER 2
Yeah.
 
SCAVENGER 1
(he nods, looking satisfied, then stops)
What?
 
Vardaman says nothing more as the sun slowly drops behind the distant mountains, and the long shadows merge into the night.
 
The lurkers rise first, shadows given form, then the deaders, too, arise. Several of them take down the scavengers from behind before they can react; Vardaman takes them out with a blast from the staff as other deaders and lurkers slowly converge on him. He backs up, continuing to blast at them with the staff until he finds himself surrounded, at which point he drops the staff and draws a sword just as two of the closest lurkers leap for him...
 
<Vardaman fighting undead>
 
<festivities going horribly wrong>
 
 
 
INT. EDIFICE stuff
 
They find an obelisk. Unlike the one in town, the orb is glowing slightly.
 
KIT
It's real?
 
JORA
What is it?
 
Erry runs to it and pokes the orb.
 
KIT
Erry! No!
 
It pulses slightly, but nothing really happens
 
ERRY
Aww. I wanted to make it go shiny!
 
Jora comes up behind Erry and steers her away from the obelisk. Erry doesn't really resist, but stares at it the entire time.
 
KIT
Gods, Erry, are you insane? Do you even know what that could have done?
 
ERRY
Nope!
 
Nolan raises an eyebrow, and Jora looks at him quizically.
 
KIT
Well you know the obelisk in town, right? This one, it's one of the real ones. It's even active, or it seems to be.
They were objects of power, beacons to magic users that they could use to do all sorts of things, like travel to away places. The Torini put them up everywhere, and a lot of the major cults kept up the tradition, though usually without quite the same power or usefulness.
 
NOLAN
Could we use it? To travel.
 
KIT
(examining it)
Aye, I think so. I'd want Master Eridus to look at it.
 
NOLAN
Boooom.
 
JORA
Something to come back to, then.
 
Kit looks confused, and she gestures up to the sky, though it isn't visible from here.
 
JORA
It's late. We should get back anyhow.
 
 
 
 
 
They get back, but it isn't right. There are bad noises and stuff, and the village is totally totalled. Buildings are wrecked; festival stuff is in ruins. Soldiers are running through in groups, and there are dead everywhere, some a bit deformed. One of the priests, Doranis, is standing by what used to be Kit and Erry's home looking horrified.
 
They stop in some bushes.
 
JORA
Guys. Hold up.
 
Erry sees his parents (dead) and doesn't listen, instead darting out.
 
ERRY
Mum!
 
KIT
Erry!
 
Jora runs after Erry. Kit starts after as well, but Nolan grabs his collar and pulls him back.
 
NOLAN
No. If there's badness, better it be two than four. You can't help.
 
KIT
But...
 
Then he realises he agrees and subsides. They commence hiding in the bushes.
 
Doranis spots Erry and Jora, and suddenly starts frantically gesturing for them to go back. Then a group of soldiers sees too, and they start running toward them.
 
Something about the carrier.
 
JORA
Erry! If you have ever listened, listen to me now! To me!
 
Erry stops, then turns back and flees. Jora runs with her, following the other two, the soldiers chasing after them, yelling for them to stop, they won't be harmed, etc.
 
Doranis sacrifices himself for the children, heading off the Carrier so that they can escape.
 
They run back through the ruins, past the same rubble and walls as before, now vague shapes in the dark, and ominous. The soldiers are behind and gaining on them, but the kids are running all-out, back to the edifice, yelling at each other to keep up, among other unintelligible things.
 
A soldier steps on something dropped by either this group of kids or the teenagers from before and it breaks in a somewhat dramatic fashion, emphasising something or other aboud how much things have changed. Dun dun.
 
 
They use the obelisk and it sends them somewhere. Kit may have also tried to reseal the edifice first.
 
 
?
 
<Davis telling Coraline she needs to go, no time to explain, get your things; Edine overhears...>
 
?
 
Coraline passes by a really noisy froggy pond in her flight. Something about Davis and Edine being there or something. They may not survive.
 
 
<screenplay>
EXT. FOREST - NIGHT
 
Search parties of soldiers with torches are scouring the woods, hunting for a 'Death of Souls' calling out periodically for surrender. There are no hounds or other animals involved in the hunt.
 
SOLDIER 1
(shouting)
Surrender!
 
SOLDIER 2
(shouting)
We know you're out here.
 
SOLDIER 3
Death! We know it's you!
 
SOLDIER 1
(shouting)
Come quietly! Nobody else need suffer for you.
 
 
Meanwhile, further down, two figures are hurrying along a path by the river, evading the soldiers. EDINE leads, and CORALINE follows.
 
EDINE
Here, Lyra. This way!
The path forks ahead - take the left, away from the water, and you will come to a cabin some twenty minutes past. We have a boat out back. Take it down the river to Sonm's Post.
 
CORALINE
Are you sure about this? What if they're right?
 
EDINE
Then they're right. But Kyrule teaches us to make the hard choices, and true's true is that you have been nothing but good since you came. I know what I'm risking, and you would know better than I.
 
CORALINE
If they find you've helped...
 
EDINE
(cutting her off)
There's no time! I know what I know, Lyra Morris! I will not have your blood on my hands!
 
CORALINE
But...
 
EDINE
Go!
 
Coraline does so, and Edine turns back the way they came.
</screenplay>
 
=== Meeting in a tavern ===
 
<screenplay>
INT. SONM'S POST TAVERN - NIGHT
 
It is late - the place is mostly empty. Vardaman is seated at the bar, with at least a barkeeep around somewhere as well. Coraline stumbles in, scratched, tired, and muddy, and winds up standing next to Vardaman.
 
VARDAMAN
You look worse than I feel.
 
CORALINE
I feel... well...
 
Instead of continuing, she sits.
 
VARDAMAN
(he sighs)
Barkeep, a shalott for the lady. There's pain what needs forgetting, if only for a little while.
 
They sit at their drinks for a time.
 
VARDAMAN
So you're still alive.
 
CORALINE
Aye.
 
VARDMAN
Is it worse?
 
CORALINE
Not yet. It will be.
 
VARDAMAN
Normally I'd have killed a Carrier as soon as talk to one. But you... Like Shalias, you've found a way to stave off the hunger and survive.
 
Coraline looks at him, confused.
 
CORALINE
(after a pause)
What hunger?
 
Vardaman looks surprised.
 
CORALINE
(shaking her head)
It's not hunger. It's just noise. Pain. Voices that won't stop, that just keep screaming and pleading and whispering. I drink and they go quiet, but I can't stay drunk forever, and behind it all is this emptiness picking away at everything I am.
(she shakes her head or something)
It's more like loneliness than hunger. A sadness.
 
VARDMAN
So you don't feed it.
 
CORALINE
How do you feed sadness?
 
Vardaman raises his mug of shalott in answer.
 
Coraline starts laughing, a horrible half-laugh half sob, and raises her own in agreement.
</screenplay>
 
=== Lost kids ===
 
<screenplay>
They emerge from the ruins/cave/whatever. Kit stares at the stars. Erry runs out, touches a tree, then runs back to the others, looking scared.
 
NOLAN
I'm hungry.
 
KIT
Oh, right, that's what we forgot.
 
JORA
You mean besides everything else we don't have?
 
NOLAN
How could we forget when we didn't even know?
 
ERRY
(bouncing around at them insistently)
What? Huh? Huh?
 
KIT
Maybe we could sell Erry.
 
ERRY
Yes!
(she stops, then hugs and clings to Kit)
Wait, no! Nonononono! No!
 
KIT
I kid. You may be an annoying horrible little pain of a sister, but you're my annoying horrible little pain of a sister, and ain't nobody could offer enough to buy you up.
 
ERRY
Yes! Yes I am!
 
KIT
Now will you let go of me? Please?
 
ERRY
(still clinging)
Yes!
</screenplay>
 
=== Deathdealers as vultures ===
 
<screenplay>
EXT. Some battlefield - day
 
This battle is current, on-going. Vardaman is standing on a rock overlooking the fight; a couple of dead archers are behind it. He leans over to the side slightly as an arrow flies through the space where he'd been. When he moves back, Norrin is standing beside him.
 
NORRIN
Another day, another battle.
 
VARDAMAN
Aye, so it is.
 
NORRIN
When does it end?
 
VARDAMAN
When the last House falls, and all who would claim ascension lie dead. When mortals forget their ambition, and find peace with the worlds as is.
 
Norrin looks at him consideringly.
 
VARDAMAN
(he shrugs)
Fuck if I know.
 
An important-looking man from one of the sides of the fighting comes up behing them on a horse.
 
MAN
Hail, priests. Have you come to bless this battle in the light of our Lords?
 
NORRIN
All come before the Lord of Death with or without your help.
 
MAN
The blessing of the Lord of Death would be welcome indeed, that we migtht stand victorious at the end of this day.
 
VARDAMAN
(muttering under his breath)
Oh, fuck off.
 
NORRIN
(somewhat dismissively, to the man)
Okay.
 
MAN
The House of Merrilenn thanks you, and your Lord.
 
The important-looking man rides off, back toward the safe side of his soldiers.
 
VARDAMAN
The house of what?
 
NORRIN
Every side is convinced that the gods are with them, and that with that, victory is assured.
 
He shakes his head incredulously.
 
VARDAMAN
Meanwhile we're standing here looking like a pair of vultures.
 
Vardaman does a vulture impression, craning his neck and tucking his arms back into his cloak like folded wings. Norrin snorts.
 
 
 
Later, they're talking by an old road, with their horses nearby.
 
NORRIN
Charo wanted me to talk to you.
 
VARDAMAN
Yeah? How is the old bastard?
 
NORRIN
Dead.
 
VARDAMAN
Oh.
 
NORRIN
He said it would be time. That you would know what that means.
 
VARDAMAN
(disappointedly)
You know, I was really hoping it would be something else. Such as, maybe, "nevermind the old curses, it's all good, happy retirement."
 
NORRIN
(somewhat surprised)
Is it ever that easy?
 
VARDAMAN
Can't an old man dream?
 
Norrin raises an eyebrow.
 
VARDAMAN
Yeah, okay. I'll go... deal with it.
 
NORRIN
Lords be with you.
 
Vardaman goes and gets his horse and stuff and heads off.
</screenplay>
 
=== Av Aril and a crypt thing or something ===
 
<screenplay>
Cue epic horsey montage!
 
Grand scenery, lots of galloping dramatically, etc etc, yadda yadda, interspersed with a few standard annoyances: waiting in a traffic jam in the middle of a town; slowing down considerably to safely make progress through the aftermath of some sort of horrible accident (it rather resembles the aftermath of an epically choreographed case scene); having to go around a massive sinkhole through the road; running into a mass of sheep that just happen to be standing in the road and across it and generally around it; waiting at a ferry crossing because the ferry is on the wrong side of the river; the horse getting distracted by a nice patch of grass...
 
Vardaman is rather irritable by the time he makes it to Av Aril, and makes a bee-line to the pub.
 
 
 
 
INT. Some crypt with ambiguous ceilings and floors
 
Vardaman is going through the crypt clearing it of undead. In each chamber, he casts in light, destroys any walkers he finds, and then attaches a second sanctified light to the doorway as he leaves. It's pretty routine. Some of the walkers try to flee; others never even get the chance.
 
At some point he drops something with a clatter. In another room a woman, ARIEL, is sitting on the floor; she looks up from her knitting at the noise, startled. She is dressed in fairly simple attire, with an ornate recurve bow at her side and a bag of various supplies at her feet. A ball of yarn and wooly ribcage lie in her lap.
 
Not hearing anything else, she goes back to her knitting.
 
Vardaman continues his process through a few more rooms. Her knitting needles jab in sync with his sword. Then, in one, he hears something, looks up, and finds her on the ceiling. Thinking she might be a vampire or something, he raises his spare hand to cast a spell.
 
ARIEL
(standing)
Oh, did I get that backwards?
 
Suddenly all her stuff clatters to the floor, and then she falls off the ceiling a moment later, landing rather gracelessly. Vardaman casts a spell to try to figure out what she is. It doesn't seem to work.
 
VARDAMAN
(guardedly)
What are you?
 
Ariel looks at him funnily as she gets up, then examines herself and sniffs her armpits.
 
ARIEL
(looking confused)
I don't know.
(she cocks her head)
What are you?
 
VARDAMAN
I'm a deathdealer.
 
ARIEL
What's a deathdealer?
 
VARDAMAN
A priest who hunts monsters.
 
ARIEL
What's a priest?
 
VARDAMAN
A... type of person.
 
ARIEL
What's a person?
 
Vardaman doesn't answer, and instead watches her suspiciously for a moment. She picks up her knitting, and watches him back. Then he marches over, places a hand on her forehead (she looks slightly surprised, but doesn't move away), and casts another spell. Nothing much happens. Ariel blinks.
 
VARDAMAN
You're not dead. Why are you in a crypt?
 
ARIEL
I really don't know. I was, and then I was! So I knitted.
 
She holds up the half-completed wooly ribcage proudly.
 
VARDAMAN
(exasperatedly)
Do you know anything?
 
A zombie or something starts to get up behind her. Vardaman watches it.
 
ARIEL
Well... I know my Dreamer would have me follow you, and that I'm supposed to find some kind of mystery and solve a princess. And I've got a 'pedia in my head.
(she stops)
Or was it princes? Maybe I was supposed to solve the princes, or was it the other way around, save the...
(she stops again)
My dreamer says I should shut up.
 
VARDAMAN
First redeeming thing I've heard.
 
He moves off around her and kills the zombie with his sword. Ariel picks up the rest of her things and starts following him awkwardly closely.
 
He pushes her away a bit.
 
VARDAMAN
If you're going to follow me, stay out of my way.
 
She stares at him with a really innocent expression on her face.
 
VARDAMAN
Please?
 
 
 
She mostly does. Vardaman gets through the rest of the chambers, and finally comes to his target - a particular tomb, older than all the others. They enter. Vardaman sticks a magelight to the ceiling. He looks determined. Ariel is whistling merrily, and then scoots up to the single large sarcophagus and pokes it.
 
An apparition, BAERLETHOR, rises out of the stonework and looms above them. Vardaman draws his sword and approaches.
 
BAERLETHOR
Again you come before me, priest? Again, you perform the same tired ritual as your brothers before you, putting it off?
 
VARDAMAN
Not this time. This time it ends.
 
The apparition laughs, billowing up before them. Ariel watches wide-eyed, looking quite fascinated.
 
BAERLETHOR
Really? You really think you can set aside your god and face me alone?
 
VARDAMAN
Alone.
(he glances toward Ariel)
With... her.
 
BAERLETHOR
And can she set aside her own, or will she doom your pitiful attempt before it can even begin?
 
ARIEL
I don't need no stinking gods.
 
VARDAMAN
Yes.
 
BAERLETHOR
(laughing)
I shall savour this!
 
The apparition throws some magic at Vardaman. He blocks it with his sword somehow.
 
VARDAMAN
Show yourself! Your true self!
 
He advances upon the sarcophagus itself. Ariel gets out and arrow and then starts working on disentangling the bow from her hair; she holds the arrow in her teeth and makes some faces in the meantime.
 
BAERLETHOR
In the name of your helpless god?
 
VARDAMAN
How about the name of I said so.
 
Ariel finally gets the bow out of her hair and restrings it.
 
ARIEL
(nocking the arrow)
In the name of eggplants everywhere!
 
She shoots the apparition and it explodes, dissipating quickly.
 
Vardaman pries the lid aside on the sarcophagus.
 
VARDAMAN
Get up and face me, Baerlethor.
 
ARIEL
(drawing another arrow)
Us.
 
VARDAMAN
(glancing back toward Ariel)
Uh-huh.
 
A skeletal hand reaches up and pushes the lid off the rest of the way, and a horrible undead awful guy monster terrible wizard liche thing rises from the sarcophagus. It smells really bad. Ariel's nose wrinkles.
 
ARIEL
Ugh.
 
Vardaman readies his sword. Ariel backs away. The liche, Baerlethor, does impressive-looking dangerous things trying to kill Vardaman. Vardaman fends him off. Mostly.
 
Ariel tries to shoot it and misses a few times.
 
ARIEL
Hold still so I can hit you!
 
Baerlethor throws some horrible deathly magic at Ariel. She ducks, which is oddly good enough.
 
BAERLETHOR
Funny, are you?
 
ARIEL
(to Baerlethor)
Not you, Vardaman!
 
VARDAMAN
(stopping, confused)
What?
 
Baerlethor hits Vardaman and sends him flying. Ariel finally successfully shoots Baelethor, and the liche falls to dust and ash and bone with a clatter, clearly now truly dead. She looks at the pile for a moment, and then runs to Vardaman, who is lying on the ground, groaning.
 
ARIEL
Hey, er, you okay?
 
VARDAMAN
Aside from the broken bones, I'm great!
 
ARIEL
Oh, good! I was a bit worried.
 
 
 
----
 
 
 
ARIEL
How do I do that?
 
VARDAMAN
What?
 
ARIEL
Well, not to sound completely crazy, but I was... um... I was talking to the voice in my head. She says I should try heal you.
 
 
</screenplay>
 
=== Something about boiling water ===
 
<screenplay>
VARDAMAN
Do you boil your water?
 
Coraline looks surprised, then nods.
 
VARDAMAN
Most folks here don't know to do that. And those that do, they don't know why.
 
CORALINE
People don't know a lot of things. Even the ones who think they do. Especially the ones who think they do.
(she takes a long drink)
At best people only know some of what they don't know. The more they do know, the more they know they don't. It's one thing to know the ground is there and that that's how it is, and another to have an idea of why, that the objects have mass, and that mass draws them together into shapes and forms and holds the pieces down on this thing we call ground... that's a why, but then why the way?
 
VARDAMAN
Does it matter?
 
CORALINE
Does if you're making a hovercraft. Otherwise? Probably not.
 
 
 
 
VARDAMAN
World you're from, is it still there?
 
CORALINE
Aye.
 
VARDAMAN
I'm sorry.
</screenplay>
 
=== Ariel and Coraline ===
 
<screenplay>
ARIEL
I can't believe it worked. I mean, obviously it did, but the odds of an intersection in this simple of a search pattern, they're astronomical. The space, and the time, and the universe, it's so huge, and all we had was a name, and it just happened to be right, or mostly right, and to find you here in the right town at the right time of day... you could have been anywhere. You could have been anywhen.
 
CORALINE
Maybe I am!
 
Coraline wiggles her fingers dramatically.
 
 
 
----
 
 
 
ARIEL
Yes, it is a key... and it's the only one shaped like a key.
</screenplay>
 
=== Something important ===
 
<screenplay>
ARIEL
It's like staring your own death right in the face when it's already happened so long ago.
 
VARDAMAN
Ariel...
 
ARIEL
(suddenly frowning, then looking at Vardaman intensely)
Vardaman! I... I forgot what I was saying?
 
VARDAMAN
(he rolls his eyes)
Of course you did.
 
 
...something probably important is said/happens here.
 
 
VARDAMAN
Your dreamer told you all of this?
 
ARIEL
No, not her. The other one. The one that's... here. She's been in the room, waiting, all these years. Waiting and watching, and holding no wrath.
She's proud of him. She's so proud of him. So sad, but so proud of him.
</screenplay>
 
=== Giant shepherd's crook ===
 
<screenplay>
They're in some shop with a giant shepherd's crook. Nolan is staring at it.
 
NOLAN
(deadpan voice)
I want it.
 
SHOPKEEP
Sod off, kid.
 
NOLAN
I want it. You will sell it.
 
SHOPKEEP
Oh, I will, will I? You got 25?
 
NOLAN
I will give you 10. You will sell it to me.
 
SHOPKEEP
Sod off.
 
Kit scoots in and tries to steel Nolan out; when this fails he turns to the shopkeep and hands him some money.
 
KIT
Here's 20.
 
The shopkeep grumbles and hands Kit the crook. Kit gives to to Nolan, after which he finally stops resisting and allows himself to be steered out.
</screenplay>
 
=== The Queen's Bust ===
 
<screenplay>
There is an inn. The sign says 'The Queen's Bust', with a picture of a bust of the queen under it.
 
JORA
Really? Queen's bust? That's the best they could do?
 
KIT
I don't get it.
 
JORA
Bust.
 
Kit looks confused.
 
JORA
This?
 
She gestures toward her chest, which Kit glances at before suddenly stopping and staring as though seeing it for the first time.
 
KIT
Woah. That... you... woah!
 
JORA
(irritated)
Kit!
 
ERRY
What's so great about that?
 
NOLAN
It's a boy thing.
 
ERRY
Like sheep being a Nolan thing?
 
NOLAN
Boom.
</screenplay>
 
=== Strange silvery key ===
 
<screenplay>
Erry is lying against a tree. Nolan has wandered off for a bit, probably to relieve himself or something, leaving the camp alone.
 
The angle is odd - we see it a bit as Erry would, everything a bit fuzzy, not quite there, with swirls of shapes and colours drifting in and out of view.
 
An angel, MYRR, lands beside Erry and stands uncertainly for a moment, then says something unintelligible.
 
Erry giggles and reaches out to touch the angel; she winds up smacking its leg.
 
The angel says something important.
 
Erry stares for a bit and then finally nods vaguely.
 
ERRY
It'll be done, mun!
 
The angels hands her something and hovers for a moment more before teleporting away... or possibly just disappearing. Erry hugs the object for a moment before tucking it in the blanket beside her and falling asleep.
 
 
LATER:
 
Nolan comes back to find a peculiar silvery key on Erry's forehead.
 
 
 
----
 
 
 
Erry holds the key up to the light.
 
KIT
(matter-of-factly)
So that's the sympbol of the Chosen of Kyrule, who acts as his will upon the worlds.
 
Erry stares at it for a moment, starting to look more and more freaked out, then throws it into the air and runs away screaming.
 
Jora gives Kit an annoyed look as he picks it up, then goes off after Erry.
 
NOLAN
Er?
 
KIT
(grinning)
Responsibility. She ''hates'' it.
 
NOLAN
But it's a symbol. It doesn't mean we have to be responsible, just that it's a symbol of something that is.
 
KIT
It implies responsibility. Someone trusting her with something. A god trusting her with something. Er.
 
NOLAN
Er.
</screenplay>
 
=== False front of Erry ===
 
<screenplay>
JORA
Erry, why do you always act so crazy?
 
ERRY
I don't! I'm not. Nuh-uh.
 
JORA
I'm serious. You're eight, but you act like a crazed monkey, bouncing about, and not even forming whole sentences most of the time. But you're not really that stupid, are you?
 
ERRY
Maybe I want to be a crazed monkey.
 
JORA
Do you? Do you really think it suits you?
 
Erry seems to consider this, but says nothing.
 
JORA
You can read, too. I've seen you. Why don't you ever show it? Or are you planning to take everyone by surprise when they least expect it?
 
ERRY
(surprised)
You noticed?
 
JORA
Kit hasn't.
(smiling)
Time it well, my little monkey, and you shall shock the hells right out of him. But don't forget to speak in the meanwhile.
 
ERRY
But what do I say?
 
JORA
Doesn't matter. Doesn't even need to be ''to'' anyone. Just don't become me, will you?
 
ERRY
But I'm not you. I'm me.
 
JORA
(smiling)
Of course you are.
</screenplay>
 
=== Faith in a table ===
 
<screenplay>
ARIEL
Might as well have faith in a table?
 
Vardaman grunts.
 
ARIEL
I'd trust a table.
 
VARDAMAN
Of course you would.
 
ARIEL
Very solid things, tables. Very real.
</screenplay>
 
=== Angels and angeloids ===
 
<screenplay>
Aeryin explains her angelic heritage.
 
CORALINE
How does that work? I mean...
(She looks at Myrr)
Can angels have babies?
 
MYRR
We do not.
 
ARIEL
Convergent evolution. With contact with a same or similar environment, distinct needs arise which lead to the development of the same structures and features despite unrelated lineages. It's the reason elves and humans look so similar, and why we get so many different kinds of beetles that all look the same. They're filling the same space in the universe, and so they wind up taking on analogous traits.
 
CORALINE
Don't beetles usually just do that to look like inedible things and not get eaten? That's more than just specific to the ecosystem.
 
ARIEL
To a beetle, the ecosystem is the universe. And we all have things in our universes which shape us into what we are.
 
VARDAMAN
Well, that's helpful.
 
ARIEL
I know!
 
CORALINE
So what are you saying?
 
ARIEL
Well... planeborn aren't descended from creatures of the planes; they are creatures of the planes. Aeryin here is angelic for the same reasons angels are.
 
FULLER
(looking oddly at Aeryin, like he never noticed anything)
How are angels angelic?
 
CORALINE
(after a bit of a pause)
Welcome to the tautology club.
 
ARIEL
The first rule of the tautology club is the first rule of the tautology club.
 
CORALINE
The second rule of the tautology club comes after the first rule of the tautology club.
 
ARIEL
The third rule...
 
VARDAMAN
(coming up behind them and interrupting)
Shut up.
</screenplay>
 
=== Obelisk ===
 
<screenplay>
SOMEONE
Every town has an obelisk. Black stone pillar with a tapered top and a sort of hole or orb through it about two-thirds up, some marked, others not, they dot the landscape.
 
SOMEONE ELSE
What are they for?
 
SOMEONE
I don't know what they're for, we just put them up, marking the place. This place is real. This place is known.
</screenplay>
 
=== Key investigation ===
 
<screenplay>
INT. Some temple thing or something.
 
Nolan has cornered a PRIEST. Jora is lagging a bit behind.
 
NOLAN
Show me to your sheep.
 
PRIEST
(trying unsuccessfully to back away)
My child, there are no sheep here...
 
Jora scoots over to them.
 
JORA
Actually we were just looking for someone who can identify an object for us.
 
NOLAN
(still standing uncomfortably close to the priest)
Can you?
 
PRIEST
What sort of object?
 
JORA
We're not really sure. That's part of the problem. But it's dangerous, and there were mushrooms involved.
 
NOLAN
Psychedelic sheep.
 
PRIEST
(becoming somewhat unnerved)
That's... not a whole lot to go on.
 
Jora sighs. Nolan just stands there staring at the priest.
 
JORA
It's a... key. Silvery, about yea big, shaped like the crescent moons, with the figure of a tower going through the middle. We don't really know what it is, or where it came from, but it's powerful, more so than anything we've seen.
 
NOLAN
Sound like anything?
 
PRIEST
And what, this... key just fell out of the sky?
 
JORA
Dunno. Gal who... acquired it was hallucinating. Got some bad mushrooms. Seemed convinced that a giant bird had... she said the bird came out of a wall and gave it to her. There weren't even any walls around. We were in the woods.
 
NOLAN
She said it was a clock, too.
(he looks at Jora)
Is it a clock?
 
JORA
I really don't think so.
 
PRIEST
Um, that's a fascinating story, but I really don't think...
 
NOLAN
(getting even more uncomfortably close, right in the priest's face)
No, you don't, do you?
 
JORA
Nolan...
 
NOLAN
You know what we're talking about. You just think we're playing with you. And maybe we are. Maybe you're just a little toy to us, and I could tweak you like a sheep's balls, but you should still tell me what I want to know, because if you do...
(he grins slowly, drawing it out for maximum effect)
I'll go away.
 
PRIEST
(quickly)
It's the World's Key. Planets and planes, and through it all, the spire of Death. The key that can open all gates, that can bring the bearer forth into whatever world he desires.
 
NOLAN
(still grinning)
Yes?
 
PRIEST
It's the key to all the realms of life and death. It's... it's the symbol of the champion who will walk the realms as the Lord's will upon the world. But it's Kyrule will that determines whose hands it falls into, not...
 
NOLAN
Really. So if we have it, it's Kyrule's will?
 
PRIEST
You can't possibly...
 
NOLAN
(finally backing away)
Keep telling yourself that.
</screenplay>
 
== More heap or something ==
 
Forward and on.
 
 
 
----
 
 
 
She gave him a look normally reserved for the criminally insane: utter fascination.
 
 
 
== Final onset of overwhelming whispering voices ==
 
It began as a whispering. Something almost, but not entirely, out of sight, out of sound, and out of mind. A shadow of a shadow, except heard, not seen. Whispers at the edge of hearing, and even, as it were, the edge of thought.
 
She did not even notice them at first. Occasionally they would sneak in even without her noticing, but then as the hours and days went on, they became more insistent, more pressing, until there was nothing to do but listen.
 
Then they came as an onslaught. When she noticed, she noticed, and then there was simply nothing to do but notice. The voices poured in, beckoning, begging, screaming, asking, crying, shouting, an endless roar of a whisper, the torment of a thousand waves all crashing at once. And she heard them all so clearly, so plainly,
 
There was no escape, no solace from the torment, simply more, and more, and more. She lost herself in it, lost track of her surroundings, her intent, and everything she was after and was. There was only room for voices, voices, voices. Speaking out of the shadows, never-ending.
 
She stumbled and continued, lost in the depths of her mind, reeling in the voices never-ending.
 
 
 
 
If only there were silence amidst the madness. But there was none; there was only madness and more madness, voices, and no silence.
 
Only voices, and shouting, and clamouring, and no silence amidst the voices, only more shouting and crying and pleading.
 
There was only the din, the overbearing loudness, the reverberation and roar and the place, the place that was all the same, the place that was all sound and no silence.
 
If there were sound and also silence, a respite, a sanctuary against the sound.
 
If there were the silence only distance, alone, without the sound, the sound of the voices, thousands, tens of thousands, never stopping, never ending...
 
But there was no silence.
 
Coraline wandered on, lost amidst the madness of the roar within her mind.
 
 
 
 
She knew nothing. She was no-one. The wind. A whisper and a shadow.
 
The world was not real.
 
Others passed her by, but they paid no heed. They were not real, and nor was she. Only the voices stood out, in their shout and their roar and their reverberation against the shadowy, flimsy backdrop of the world she saw with eyes. It was nothing.
 
Only the rock and the shadow, washed by the whirl of voices, so many souls that passed through, so many voices, shouting, shouting, always shouting and never heard. They were meaningless, and still they shouted, because they did not know, they could never know, but they were only the cicada, they were only the whisper, and yet they whispered on.
 
 
 
 
Whisper and whisper, shout and shout, question and question. The cacophony was never-ending, and yet all were lost within. No single soul stood out, no single voice was heard, only the masses, the unending masses, coming and coming. It was all. It was everything. Voices.
 
Only voices. No end to the voices, just voices shouting, voices pleading, voices lost without even hope to carry them on, but still echoing even now, for there was no hope here, only nothing, only echos, always echoes. This was the place of echoes, where echoes were only all. Only echos. Nelanor. Echos.
 
They pleaded, the echos. They called. They whispered secrets and shouted legends, for it was all they knew, and amongst the echos there was nothing, only nothing. If only there were something amidst the nothing, no abyss, no great shadow, no deep darkness that loiters below, only something, a shadow of the world, but something, then. Something to support the voices, the echos the shadows.
 
But there is only nothing.
 
 
 
 
She realised she was in a place. She didn't know how she had gotten there, or what she was doing there, or even, for that matter, much of anything at all, but this was a place. Some of the whispers had mentioned places, but as they whispered on, the places faded.
 
Everything faded. Everything was lost in the whispers, in the shouting, in the din.
 
There was a cup in front of her. Someone said, quieter and yet somehow louder than all of the others, "You look like you could use some shalott."
 
She looked at it. Rock, part of her thought, staring at it, and then, before she knew what she was doing, that part of her drank it. Amidst the voices she didn't really notice. There was nothing to notice.
 
 
 
 
It was later. It was clearly later.
 
And there was only silence.
 
Nelanor looked up. "It is what the thunder said," she said.
 
"Sorry?" the barkeep asked.
 
 
 
 
She was in a bar. It was clearly a bar, though like none she had ever seen before. There were no taps and no vast assortment of myriad bottles such as marked the bars she knew, but there was the bar itself. It was very clearly a bar, long and wodden and polished, and the barman behind with apron and bottles and barrels, ready to pour whatever, so long as he had it, to whoever, so long as he could pay for it.
 
There was also no lighting in the rest of the room, as far as she could tell, The patrons drank in smoke and gloom, coming forth, perhaps, only as often as they had to. And here, at the bar, there were only the three lanterns. Kerosene, if she had to guess, and no apperture for anything better. This was all they had. They made do, though. People did, when it was as far as they had come, and indeed they were proud of it. They had come this far, after all. They had achieved real lanterns, right?
 
Or something along those lines. She wasn't sure what was going on, or how she had gotten here. There was, however, another mug in front of her. Had she already had one? It was hard to say.
 
For lack of a better idea she drank it.
 
 
 
 
For the first time in she didn't know how long, Coraline Henderson was thinking clearly. At least relatively so. She was also, from the feel of it, pretty decently drunk.
 
== Strange mask: Kyrule ==
 
The mask was almost identical to the one she had in her notebook. Hers was a modern excuse for filigree: laser-cut aluminium. Here, intricate swirls and elaborate patterns arose out of the stone, mathematics of chaos that mostly worked out shifting in and out of focus. Only the circle at the top was empty, where the emblem should have been. The trinity.
 
"Who the hell are you?" she said.
 
== Impromptu barkeep ==
 
"Then we'll have to come by later, get to know this new barkeep of yours." The officer nodded, tipped his hat at Coraline, and turned about and left, soldiers at his heels.
 
Delaroy just stared after them, panicked. "I... fuck!" He turned to Coraline, and said, "You need to get out of here. I can make up a yarn about how you fled, but you need to leave now if you're going to have any chance!"
 
"Wait," Coraline said, placing a hand on his arm. "Why not play it through?"
 
"What?"
 
She smiled disarmingly. "What's where, what do people usually get, what sort of cocktails are popular in the area? Tell me what I need to know, and I will be your barkeep."
 
He looked at her incredulously. "Do you know anything about bartending at all?"
 
"I know how to mix flavours so they work well together. I know a good barkeep judges the appropriate shalott based on body weight and height with some sort of scaling for apparent base tolerance." He looked sceptical, so she added, "I've seen it done a few times."
 
Delaroy sighed. "Look, I appreciate the offer, but I can't risk it. If it doesn't work, it'd be both our heads for sure."
 
"I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't think it entirely doable," Coraline said. "Remember, it's ''both'' our heads on the line, mine too. And even if they buy your story otherwise, that'd still be a mark, whereas this way you come clean and get a barkeep on top. You do seem to have been looking for one for quite some time, after all."
 
"But..." Delaroy started, then he seemed to change his mind and shrugged. "You know what? Fine. Come on."
 
== Random ==
 
"When next you call me a monster, remember - you have a sword, and I am a collector of words."
 
== False memory of a murder ==
 
"I killed her."
 
He sputtered. "And ''that'' was why..." He stopped. "Er, wait, why?"
 
"She asked me to. Said she'd 'been taken'." Coraline took a long drink and shook her head. "The whole area had been decimated."
 
"What... by the Death of Souls?"
 
She shrugged. "Dunno. The elves called it the 'scourge'?"
 
"Yeah, that's the Death of Souls." He looked at her. "Fuck, woman, that... you did good."
 
"Did I?"
 
"Yes."
 
"Doesn't feel like it."
 
"Never does."
 
== Drinking and storytelling: Francis Door ==
 
"Francis Door," she said.
 
He took a long drink. "Yeah?"
 
"You know the story?"
 
"Yeah."
 
She downed her shalott and pushed the mug forward for a refill. "What do you make of it?"
 
He took a long breath. "Crazy shit," he said. "Damn crazy shit."
 
"How so?"
 
"Well," he paused, thinking. "You got this guy. A fuckin' normal guy. He loves a few things in life, his god, his work, his woman, and for them he'd give up anything. For any one of them he'd give up the others, if it came to it."
 
"Is that what happened?"
 
"Near enough. It was his wife's ''sister'', if you can believe that. All the stories say it was his wife, what say it at all, but it was her fucking sister."
 
"What..."
 
"Right?"
 
They minded their drinks. Things swam swimmily around them, objects in space. They watched, and listened, and drank.
 
"Some folks would do anything for family," Coraline said. "Is that so wrong?"
 
He stared at his shalott and tipped it randomly. "'Snothing wrong or right about it. That's just it. Just shit what happens, an' choices what don't work out. Swhat makes it all so fucked up."
 
== Naming a King ==
 
It was paperwork. The paperwork of the multiverse, niggling for completion.
 
Most of the paperwork was automatic, the random details filled in according to sender and origin, but there were two things that needed a specific answer. Choices on the part of the petitioner. Names. A place and a person. A castle and a king. Black sand everywhere. So much sand.
 
She blinked, not that there was anything much to see. Curtains, wall. No sand. Just a metaphor like the castle itself. Two names. Castle and king. Moonlight speckled across the curtains, trailing shadows of leaves.
 
"Here reigns king of the sandcastle, Kyrule of Arling Tor," she whispered. Sand drifted silently around her.
 
There. Paperwork filled out.
 
With that she fell asleep.
 
== Join the temple, investigate some murders, and generally be a drunken lout ==
 
=== Assassination ===
 
She felt something brush by her and instinctively reached out to swat at it. It turned out to be a man, who materialised in front of her as her hand brushed his arm. He grabbed her hand and yanked her forward, and then suddenly let go, vanishing once more.
 
She felt... funny. Like it was raining, except there was a cramp in her chest. She noticed that the group of priests had apparently seen the commotion and were moving toward her. Why were they worried? People vanish sometimes. She'd had weirder patrons. He hadn't hurt her. Had he?
 
She looked down and realised there was something stuck to her chest, and everything was getting very, very fuzzy. "Oh," she said softly. This wasn't supposed to happen. Had she failed? She realised she had, and the panic filled her like the greatest of nightmares, except it was fuzzy and distant, and it was too late now anyhow. Even the magic wouldn't come, just a terrible blankness where it should have been, and a dagger where her life should have been.
 
Then the darkness was flooding back, full of voices. Except this time the voices were different - welcoming. Familiar, rising around her. One of them said, "Fucking batshit."
 
She thought she felt someone catch her.
 
=== Sober ===
 
She awoke to voices. They swirled around her, content to a roar, to a whisper, pleading and cajolling, begging and screaming and chittering. They were everything. The world. A whole lot of nothing. She had to think, to get away, to stop them, but they would not stop and she could not think, so instead she looked about in desperation and found a whole lot of some things. Some walls, mostly. Some furniture. Some objects. A couple of other objects that swirled with their own strange whispers, their own odd shadows. Souls. Mortals. The strange ones that came after. The strange ones that never were. A myth. A legend. And still the voices, yelling and shrieking and singing with madness.
 
One of the shadows mouthed words and they formed in the space, jostled by voices. They were torn to pieces before she could even try to read them, so she mouthed her own, told the shadows what she needed, whatever it was. She didn't know. The cacophony was too great to tell, there was only clamour and sense and what needed to be done, and so she did it, pulling out pieces from her bag and mixing them in the glass that was now before her. Vodka. Adder root. Seravos. Denna seeds. Less juice. Ghorram. A concoction that mixed to the rhythm of the voices, the voices that overwhelmed, the voices that defined the instant.
 
It hit her like a brick to the head. Possibly a gold brick. Possibly wrapped in a slice of lemon, possibly taken to the brain. She had no idea. Everything was just swimming. The voices were gone. The glass was empty. The men were staring at her in concern, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Gravity thought it did, but it really didn't matter either. She eyed it warily regardless.
 
"Whaaaah," Coraline said finally. Or something along those lines. She didn't really know. It didn't really matter. One of the men said something else, and the other responded, saying something as well. Whatever it was, it was lost on her. Then the latter was guiding her out of the swimming room into a swimming corridor and through swimming halls and everything was just gloriously fuzzy beyond belief.
 
 
 
Coraline's head hurt. She felt heavy. Everything felt heavy. Her body felt heavy. The blankets felt heavy. The hand on her shoulder felt heavy.
 
"Get up," the man in robes was telling her. "You need to get up."
 
She groaned, or tried to, though nothing really came out. The heaviness was immense, rather like the pain in her head. She could hardly even imagine what it would be to move. The scope of the very prospect seemed epic, a feat for the ages.
 
Then he was pulling her out of bed himself, and she was even helping, sort of, and then she was standing before him and he was looking at her uncertainly, and her head really hurt. The light hurt. The shadows hurt. His face hurt. Everything seemed to hurt. She closed her eyes.
 
That hurt too.
 
"Come," he said, and she realised even his voice hurt. But she followed him regardless.
 
Space around seemed to swim as it passed by. It still hurt her head, but swimmingly. So she stared instead at the guy's back, at the robe that rippled as he walked, but that, too, was swimming in strangeness. And that, too, hurt. She almost tried to think about what had happened, how this had happened, but the prospect of that, too, hurt. So she didn't, and simply followed.
 
=== Ritual ===
 
He gave her the skull, and she held it in her hand uncertainly. She had absolutely no idea what was supposed to happen here, but clearly something was supposed to happen, so she held it up, and addressed it, "Alas! Poor Yorrick, I knew him well, Horatio, a man of infinite jest, of... er..." She looked around, then hastily handed the skull back. The keeper took it, looking rather surprised, but nodded.
 
Coraline stared at him blankly.
 
=== More ritual ===
 
They were before an alter. Coraline looked at it blankly. It looked like an alter.
 
"Well?" the priest finally asked.
 
"Oh," she said.
 
"Will you pledge yourself to Kyrule?" the priest persisted.
 
"Sure," she said. "Why not?" Kyrule was fine. She'd not named him for nothing. Or had she? She couldn't really remember. Her head hurt too much to press the matter, anyhow.
 
There was an awkward silence.
 
On a whim, Coraline poked the alter. "Hi," she said.
 
Then she was surrounded by warmth, suspended in light. The pain faded away into nothing, and everything simply faded away. She found herself floating amidst nothing at all, at peace with the world. At peace with nothing. Everything was simple, clear, laid out before her.
 
And then it all flooded back - not the pain in her head, but the world itself; the voices, just out of reach; the room swimming around her; the alter; the mask; the priests looking on, overseeing this ritual she had probably just completely butchered.
 
"Holy buckets," she said.
 
=== Names and info ===
 
<screenplay>
HANRON
Coraline Henderson.
 
CORALINE
Hmm?
 
HANRON
That's not even your real name, is it?
 
CORALINE
What is a real name but one you use and make real?
 
 
 
HANRON
The library is at your disposal. There are also frequent seminars that may be of interest - they are provided for the acolytes who study here, but there are no requirements or restrictions on showing up.
 
CORALINE
Folks just go to what they're interested in?
 
HANRON
To a point. Some are needed just in general, or for specific path a priest wishes to take, but for your part you shouldn't need to worry about that. Show up if it looks promising or useful, act normal, and learn what you will.
 
CORALINE
Right. I've joined a cult, I'm an acolyte. I'm doing acolyty things.
(she takes a long drink from her pocket bottle)
Perfectly normal.
 
HANRON
(starting to look concerned)
Drinking is not normal.
 
CORALINE
Okay, that could pose a problem.
 
HANRON
Addictions of the body...
 
CORALINE
I'm a Carrier of the Death of Souls. Doesn't it strike you as at all odd that I'm here and... well, coherent, among other things?
 
HANRON
But the amulet...
 
CORALINE
...only suppresses the effects to a point. Doesn't explain how I got here, either. And you want to know how? My great grand secret for the ages?
 
He doesn't answer.
 
CORALINE
(hefting the bottle)
Booze. I just need to stay drunk, and that ain't easy, either. I suppose I probably could try to get a more inconspicuous bottle, though.
You don't want to see me sober. Sober, I'm... well, I'm just another Carrier. It's quite sad.
 
HANRON
If this works for you, is it possible... is it at all possible that this might work for other carriers, to bring them back?
 
CORALINE
I wish. It doesn't actually fix anything, just... staves off the voices a bit, you know? Makes me relatively functional. But for other reasons I'm not nearly as affected in the first place.
 
HANRON
Go on.
 
CORALINE
I... no. I don't really want to get into that. Just please don't look at me and expect others to be like me.
 
HANRON
Why would I do that?
 
CORALINE
Er...
</screenplay>
 
=== Lunatic woman ===
<screenplay>
Coraline is on a messy bed, with old sheets. She wakes slowly. Her head hurts and she touches it briefly, then notices the woman nearby, moving her head unusually and rubbing it as well.
 
WOMAN
This isn't. It's wrong. Too late.
(she notices Coraline and backs away)
Waking. Stay back!
 
The woman makes a threatening gesture.
 
CORALINE
It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you.
Are you okay?
 
WOMAN
No? Okay. Not okay. Not the words!
(she grabs a knife and points it)
If just the right words. If you could hear what I'm trying to say!
 
CORALINE
I hear you.
(she sits up and takes in the room, before looking back to the woman)
What ''are'' you trying to say?
 
WOMAN
What? No. No, no, no. Not possible. That's not.
 
The woman waggles the knife and then suddenly drops it and scoots toward the other side of the room, toward a makeshift oven, muttering something.
 
Coraline looks after her confused, then gets up and quickly grabs the knife off the floor. She gives the madwoman another worried glance, but the madwoman is still muttering at and poking the oven, so Coraline goes and checks the 'door'. It opens slightly when she tests it, clearly not locked.
 
When Coraline turns around again, the woman is standing in the middle of the floor staring right at her.
 
WOMAN
You. Do you... understand me?
 
CORALINE
I... I think so?
 
WOMAN
But the words. These aren't... the words are broken.
 
CORALINE
Words don't break.
(she hesitates)
I understand you fine. Tell me what's wrong.
 
WOMAN
These...
(there is a long pause as she figures out how to explain it)
I can't speak words. I can't hear them. Not the right words. Unintelligible speak. I hear people and I know they know what they're saying, and I know what I'm saying, but they don't know what I'm saying and I don't really know either except it's not the right words, even in my head it's wrong. Jumbled. Wrong words. I try to say my words and they come out wrong. They're not right. They're not right.
 
CORALINE
So it's... the wrong language?
 
WOMAN
What? No! No, not language. Words from the language. Not the right words, but words. That aren't the right words. I don't understand them. Not my own, not others. Not until... right now. With you?
(she cocks her head weirdly)
You're... different.
 
CORALINE
That's... aphasia?
 
The woman looks confused.
 
CORALINE
It means... it means you can't speak because the words aren't going through your brain right. So the associated meaning just gets lost...
How long has it been like this?
 
WOMAN
Months. Years. All the same I don't know.
 
CORALINE
And you've... been here?
 
WOMAN
Can't go home. Can't speak and tell them how to open it, can't talk to anyone. Thought I was possessed. Demons don't possess, but they don't know that here.
 
CORALINE
Here, as in Cerris?
 
WOMAN
(she nods)
In Volundris they'd know. They would know what to do. How to fix this, how to fix me. But I can't get there. Can't talk, can't...
 
The woman stares at Coraline longingly, then her expression shifts to a sort of futile terror.
 
WOMAN
No no, no, no, no, no, no no NO NO!
This is a dream. Can't be happening. Can't even speak, no, so my brain makes it up, over and again. No! You're not real!
 
Coraline goes to her to try to comfort her. It winds up a bit awkward, but there's a hug involved somewhere, and some clinging, and a bit of random hair-pulling.
 
CORALINE
Shh, don't fight it. It's not a dream, I'm real. I have a hangover that is very insistent on this. I'd have it tell you all about it, but I'm afraid it's a bit of a personal thing...
 
The woman looks confused.
 
CORALINE
I understand you because I understand everyone. Language isn't a barrier, if something is meant by the words, then I can pick it up, and I can speak it in turn. Even if the words themselves are broken, even if it isn't a language. It doesn't matter.
 
WOMAN
How is that possible?
 
CORALINE
(she shakes her head)
I don't know. It started when I got to this world. I think... it might have been something a god did. So that I'd have a chance. Bastard.
 
The woman smiles slightly. Then the smile fades into another look of horror.
 
WOMAN
(accusingly)
And you're going to leave. With your god magic and your understanding. You'll leave, and there will be nobody left to understand. And it will be the same. The same.
 
She starts moving toward the door. Coraline scoots over slightly as well, but then the woman runs for it and blocks the way, hefting another knife as if out of nowhere.
 
WOMAN
I won't let you! I can't be alone! Not again! Not without words!
(yelling)
Without words!
 
CORALINE
Um.
(she holds up a hand disarmingly)
Do you have a name, madwoman?
 
WOMAN
Rutabaga.
 
CORALINE
Rutabaga?
 
WOMAN
No, no, no. Words. Wrong. Names...
 
CORALINE
Names don't translate?
 
WOMAN
Yes! No! No no no!
 
CORALINE
No, wait!
(she holds out her hands again)
It's fine. You can be Rutabaga for now. We'll get you fixed.
 
WOMAN
What? No! It's not possible!
 
CORALINE
Rutabaga, listen to me. You said in your world, in Volundris, they'd be able to fix this. We just have to get you there.
 
WOMAN
But the names...
 
CORALINE
I know the name because I've heard it before.
 
WOMAN
No...
 
CORALINE
I'll get you there. I'll get you home, trust me.
 
WOMAN
Trust?!
 
CORALINE
Trust me. You're alone, you can't talk to anyone, you can't tell them what you are, what happened to you. They fear you because they do not understand, and yet you mean them no harm, you simply want to be, and to go home, and to speak? To share your words, to share your experience, to have someone undestand, to not be alone. That's what you want, above all else.
 
The woman stares at her.
 
CORALINE
I know this because it is the same for me, not because I cannot speak, but because I can, and even more so because of what lies within me. A curse. I, too, am broken, in a different way. Just an emptiness. Voices and pain that I cannot explain, I cannot tell anyone, even when I need more than anything else someone to trust, someone to turn to and tell me everything will be okay, because there isn't anyone. Not anyone at all.
 
WOMAN
But you have words. You have the words! You can explain, tell them what it is...
 
CORALINE
Tell them what? Tell them that I am the Death of Souls, that I am the Carrier?
 
The woman expresses some sort of shock, and a small amount of fear.
 
CORALINE
I know what it's like to be alone! I'm trying to fight this, but instead of helping, all those who even know anything would rather kill me. Do you know how many times I've been turned away, how many bounties put on my head, how many swords drawn at the very mention? I know what it's like!
</screenplay>
 
=== Solution ===
 
"Kyrule would have that I help you, though I do not know what all that would entail."
 
"So what, I should just trust you?" Then she shrugged. "Well, why not. So tell me, then. What do you know of the Death of Souls?"
 
"I know it is old, a curse that devours everything that a person is, and spreads to others in insatiable hunger. I know there have been crusade after crusade to try to eradicate it, and yet still it persists. I know there are stories told about it, theories and fantasies and even those who would try to master it, but it never helps. It never works."
 
She nodded.
 
"Is that what this is about? You're on... some kind of mission?"
 
"Not as such." She looked at him carefully, then said, "I'm afflicted. I carry the Death of Souls within me."
 
He didn't react, not like the others had. Instead he simply said, "I see."
 
"That's what the alcohol is for. It drives away the voices. Keeps me sane." She stopped and then corrected, "Well, maybe not sane, exactly, but it keeps me me."
 
"That's it? The solution is alcohol?"
 
"Doubt it," she said. "I think it's more just putting things off. Driving the hunger away in confusion, because how can it eat my proper self when my self is too buried in shalott to even show its face?"
"I won't hurt anyone, though. Well, not with this, at least.
 
"So there's no cure."
 
"Not that I know of. But you do have resources. Books. I dunno, maybe there's something here..."
 
=== Reminiscing on cultisting ===
 
Three hundred years ago, Coraline Henderson, then going by the name Anja Torn, had been a regular customer at the Empty Cistern, even then one of the oldest taverns in the city.
 
It wasn't that the place was close to where she was staying (because it wasn't), it wasn't because it had good service (because it really didn't), it wasn't because the clientelle were respectable (if anything they were the opposite), and it wasn't because the booze was good, although it actually was most of the time. The reason she went here because because nobody cared - eveyrone here was here because nobody cared; nobody cared about the law, or about propriety, or about anyone else's business. People came, they went, and they got, if not exactly discretion, a good heaping dose of apathy.
 
So Coraline got no trouble here walking in dressed like an acolyte of Kyrule and ordering a triple-dose of 20-stone shalott, even though it was well-known that the acolytes were not permitted alcohol. Indeed, it seemed some of the temple's higher-ups had a made a point of visiting all the bars in town to let them know, just to be clear, but they would have skipped this one.
 
She got the same trouble as everyone else, of course. The general suspicion, shifty-eyed watching as she passed, the curiosity of what might be wrong with her that was gone as soon as she was, but that was really it. All in all, the Cistern of the time was the sort of place where the more normal you looked, the better off you were - if you looked normal, people had to guess, and the imagination often filled in far worse nightmares than reality ever could. And aside from the robes, Coraline looked pretty normal.
 
The only real trouble had come the first night she was there, or might have had she responded differently.
 
She had been sitting at the bar minding her shalott, wondering vaguely how drunk she could safely get and still maintain her cover, when someone sat down next to her and said, "Hey, you going to stop that?"
 
Not even sure what she should be stopping, she looked around. Turned out someone had died, something which often happened there - a body was slumped over a table and it sounded like people were bidding.
 
She took this in and just said, "I don't want him."
 
Somehow that settled it. The guy grinned gappily at her, slapped her on the shoulder, and left. This was the nature of the place, lawless, godless, and ruled only by the order of commerce, of what people wanted. And if someone died, that was valuable.
 
Of course, had she really been an acolyte of Kyrule and not just posing as one, that could have presented something of a problem. The religion was very much against the mistreatement of the dead, and selling bodies very much qualified as mistreatment in their book. But she wasn't one, and in her somewhat more practical view of things, the dead were already dead. They weren't apt to care.
 
Nor was anyone else, there. And so, during her stay in the city of Soransie, she came to frequent the place.
 
== Arbitration ==
 
"I have spoken and that is final. Shut up leave me alone I'm drinking."
 
== Wizarding ==
 
Basic Necromancy was at four. It covered the general theories, and would begin practical studies in reanimation in the next few weeks. Coraline was good at theories, but the reanimation part worried her. It sounded suspiciously like magic, and she had no idea if she could actually do magic.
 
Not normal magic, at any rate.
 
=== Elementals ===
 
Coraline had a problem with elementals. Namely with the entire concept.
 
They were supposed to be summoning air elementals today, but though she pointed out air wasn't really an element, the professor wouldn't listen. So she tried to think of something that was air. Oxygen? An oxygen elemental would probably burst into flame. Nitrogen? But what the hell would be the use of that? It'd be invisible. Carbon dioxide? Good way to suffocate people, if nothing else... but not exactly an element either. Hydrogen would flat out explode. Helium would be funny but not very useful.
 
Something radioactive, perhaps. Radon? She could give everyone cancer! Okay, maybe not that either.
 
She sketched out a periodic table in search of ideas. Something further up the table, something inert. Neon? Nice noble gas, and nice and colourful if given electricity... sure, why not.
 
So she focussed her mind on neon - atomic number 10, simple assortment of electrons, nobody cares about the neutrons - and she twisted it into the spell they'd been going over all morning, with, of course, an added electrical current thrown into the weave to make it actually show up.
 
There was a brilliant flash of light, and then a form of intense red appeared before her. She giggled as the rest of the class turned to look, then shielded their eyes from the red-orange glare of the neon.
 
"As I said," she announced to the class, "Air is not an element. This, however, is. It's neon, one of the elements that is found ''in'' air."
 
"Cute," the professor said, and gestured to dismiss the elemental, though when Coraline felt a bit of a rush of warm air afterwards she was pretty sure it had just exploded.
 
== Random ==
 
"It's not that I'm incredibly drunk," she said. "It's just that I am incredibly drunk."
 
 
 
----
 
 
 
"It's not like I'm worried. If I could think straight about anything I'd be worried, though."
 
 
 
----
 
 
 
It hadn't been the sister. It had been the sister's dog.
 
== Shalott ==
 
He saw her as soon as he entered: she was seated at the bar, hunched over a mug of shalott, her coat over her chair and staff and bag on the floor. Loose blonde hair shrouded her face as he took the seat next to her, but her clothing stood out - fine but worn, colourful but simple, in patterns that would have looked at almost at home anywhere. Almost.
 
Vardaman ordered a mug of the same, as well a couple bottles of vodka for the road. She ignored him, and he ignored her right back; they were both there for the [[shalott]], not the company, and the barkeep likewise left them to it. It had been a long day, and to be able to put everything else aside for that bitter, sweet warmth was worth the world. Losing the mind in a controlled manner. An addiction that lasted a lifetime.
 
== stuff ==
 
 
* wallet
* phone
* bluetooth
* mouse
* three flashdrives
* bus passes
* cuddly sea-anemone toy
 
* two books - House of Leaves, Guild Wars Factions art book
* pens/pencils
* notebook/pad thingie
* wad of eraser - 'kneaded rubber'
 
* floss
* screwdriver set
* wirecutters
* pliers
* two knives
* set of upholstery needles
* file
* pair of chopsticks
* small scissors
* MAGNETS
 
* hairclips
* sunglasses
* extra socks
* small mask (filigree-style)
 
* tube of ointment
* superglue
* deodorant
* lip colour (paint stuff and balm)
 
* empty metal water bottle
 
* bars of soap
* clothes
* spoon
* bristle comb
* set of small pots
* some dried food
* smoked meat
* waterskin
* some money (Verash currency)
* rope
 
 
* Strange coin
 
 
* jeans
* xkcd sysadmin t-shirt
* huge-ass coat
* scarf
* beanie
* mittens
* boots
 
...and a staff weapon. Dzang, girl, you go into the world with an odd assortment of junk.
 
 
== War and stuff ==
 
There is a war, ongoing. In the wake of the battles, the dead are left to rot, no longer belonging to opposing sides but merely esisting as 'remains', finally brought together where treaty and diplomacy had failed. For most, it is a tale of horror and loss, but for others less savoury, it is a feast, an unending buffet of parts from which to gorge themselves.
 
Blah blah blah bad creatures blah hunters blah blah. Blah blah deathdealers to put the monsters down and the dead to rest. Vardaman one of them blah.
 
Vardaman found something in the process. A note, an emblem perhaps, a lead in a matter from his past that had been all but forgotten, a quest he had embarked upon that had turned up nothing. But here it was again. A message from Gedrel, or perhaps just a reminder. Was Gedrel even still alive after all these years? Did it matter?
 
It was important enough that this clue led him to abandon the fields of dead and take on the quest once more. Now he had somewhere to search, and he would find it this time.
 
Probably.
 
And find Gedrel too, since maybe he'll have found something useful in the intervening years as well...
 
 
 
But what had it been? The quest?
 
== Av Aril ==
 
Vardaman looked at his shalott. He drank his shalott. He sighed vaguely and stared off into space. Space winked at him and smiled, and he realised he had been staring in the direction of the waitress.
 
Then the barkeep refilled his mug, and Vardaman went back to staring at it instead.
 
The inn was quiet, and indeed nearly empty at this point. Most of the townsfolk regulars had retired an hour back, leaving only Vardaman at the bar and two other old men nearby, so the waitress, for lack of anything better to do, came and sat down next to him. She was rather pretty, especially by outland standards; the seasons here tended to take a quick toll on the people, hardening lives and features alike.
 
Nothing much happened for awhile. One of the pair of old men fell over.
 
"There goes Patterson," the waitress said, glancing over. "Every time."
 
Vardaman looked as well, in time to see the passed-out fellow's friend roll him onto his side.
 
"Happens every time," he said with a shrug. "We'd used to place bets if it'd get through his skull eventually to not, but, well, never did."
 
Vardaman raised his mug in a salute and then downed it.
 
"Don't say much, do yeh?" the man said.
 
"Don't trust myself," Vardaman replied slowly.
 
The man laughed and sat down. "Well, I'm Vance, and the guy who winds up with all the gold," he gestured toward the barkeep, who nodded, "is Frankston, and you've met Suze. Finest voice in these hills, and that's sure."
 
Suze smiled. "Hey," she said.
 
"Vardaman," Vardaman said. His mug had mysteriously filled itself again, though the mystery was quickly resolved by his realising that the barkeep... that Frankston was still there.
 
"So what brings you to Av Aril?" Suze asked. She did have a nice voice; didn't sound the faintest thing like a kerosene-powered cheesegrater.
 
"Zombies," Vardaman said after a bit of a pause. There was of course a good deal more to it than that, but he was having some trouble articulating any of it. "Bones?" he tried again.
 
"Bones?" Suze repeated.
 
Vance snorted. "What, you mean the ruins up top Galatharn? You an adventurer or something?"
 
Vardaman responded by slumping forward on the bar, unconscious.
 
=== Hangovers ===
 
This was Av Aril, a village on the eastern end of Kartheldrin, a country of hills, junipers, hills, more junipers, and even the occasional yucca, but mostly junipers. It was hot in the days and cold in the nights, but the mornings... those were something else entirely. Horrible, for the most part, at least as far as Vardaman was concerned.
 
It was the hangovers. One of these days he would have to stop drinking, he told himself, same as he did every morning, though he never did stop. So there were always hangovers. There was always fog. It was foggy. The window was entirely grey. He went over and rubbed clear a pane. Outside was more fog. Oh joy.
 
== Zombies with rocket launchers ==
 
Ariel ran down the slope, waving her sword and yelling. It wasn't the smart thing to do unless you wanted to draw attention, but she felt watched and for lack of a better idea it seemed as good a way as any to draw any watchers out. And out they came - zombies armed with... well, she wasn't quite sure. Something thick and cylindrical and very, very black. And pointed at her.
 
Vardaman just stared at her for a moment, then yelled, "Get down!". She saw he was already behind a stump as she managed to dodge the first couple fireballs, but the third hit her square in the face.
 
Everything exploded.
 
 
 
Ariel looked down the slope. They had stopped by a large stump, because something didn't feel right. Eyes. There were eyes. And she remembered the fireball coming toward her, getting bigger, and nowhere to go...
 
"There are undead down there," she said, and cast a seeker spell. The glimmer highlighted through the trees.
 
"How did you know that?"
 
That was the question, wasn't it? And how could she explain that she could go back and do anything over, that whenever she died, she simply got a horrible jolt and then could refocus wherever, and, for that matter, whenever? Some wizards did it; she knew this because they had been the ones to give her the idea in the first place, but not with this level of control. No mortal should have this level of control over their own deaths.
 
"Lucky guess?"
 
He snorted. "Armed?"
 
The stupid thing, of course, was that if she didn't have this fallback, she would never be so reckless in the first place. It just worked so well, and as awful as dying was, you got used to it. Just like how dreamers get used to waking up in the morning, she supposed. It sounded dreadful.
 
"Got blasty things."
 
"Great." He screwed a knob onto the end of his staff and hefted it. "Good thing we've got blastier."
 
Everything went white.
 
== Random ==
 
"I remember too much. I don't know what has already happened, and what yet needs to happen."
 
== Meet in the park ==
 
Vardaman was seated on one of the benches overlooking the park. He looked utterly out of place in this civilised land, a warrior shrouded in leathers and death, and he looked tired.
 
Ariel sat beside him. She supposed she probably didn't look much better. Younger. Prettier. Dirtier, if anything. Lost and tired.
 
They watched nothing in particular. Clouds drifting overhead. Some kids playing ball. A man with his dog. Wind in the trees.
 
"Anything?" Ariel asked.
 
"No."
 
"I think I found him."
 
"Aye?"
 
"He's dead."
 
"We knew that."
 
"Not exactly," she said. "His name is not in the Book of the Dead. He was taken without passing through the halls of judgement."
 
"You can't know that."
 
"Probably Saro."
 
He winced. "How?"
 
"You would have paid their price in full. Mine was cheaper."
 
"And what did they ask?"
 
"They could not buy what I do not have, but whores are universal." He looked at her, but she said, "Don't worry, Vardaman. It was interesting."
 
"Heh." He smiled slightly. "Everything is, to you, isn't it?"
 
"It's new."
 
== Death and judgement ==
 
She was standing in a vast hall, walls distant, ceiling high above. Everything was grey. An enormous throne stood before them, and on it a winged cat groomed itself, but it was simply background. A robed figure read off names, one by one. Names for those around, but they didn't matter. Nothing mattered.
 
A whisper tugged at the back of her mind as she stared at nothing. There was only nothing, and more nothing. This place, and nothing, and then the whisper again.
 
''Ariel,'' it said. The space was clearer. There was a concept here.
 
''Ariel, listen to me.'' And then she saw the others. She saw the cat, and the robed figure, and the sarcophagi lining the walls. She saw the others, shades one and all, and raised her hand to look - she was as they were. Not quite there, not quite real.
 
"Dreamer," she said aloud. And she listened.
 
''You are Ariel Sartorien. Remember who you are and all else will follow.''
 
None of the others noticed. None of them moved, simply waiting in turn for their names and sentences to be called, the Voice reading them off, one by one, the winged cat behind him ignoring it all with style.
 
Names. Lives. Judgements. Sentences. She listened, half hearing, half waiting, half wondering what the hell she was going to say, because she was going to have to say something, and half, somewhere in the very back of her mind, smacking herself for forgetting the meaning of the word 'half'.
 
"Augorine Zha Siel. You have lived in service, and for your acts and deeds you have been judged as true. Go forth."
 
"Dyre Austeroferoz. You have lived in fear, and made the world your own, but throughout you have lived without faith. Go forth."
 
"David Weaver..."
 
The souls, once called, simply faded away, each by each.
 
And then it was her turn.
 
"Anja Torn," the Voice intoned. "You have-"
 
"No," she interrupted. "My name is Ariel Sartorien!" The Voice moved as if to speak, but she continued over him. "I'm Ariel! I dream the Dreamer's dream, and act as her will upon the world, and you will let me go. In the name of Eapherod, and for the sake of the god you serve in turn, you will let me go!"
 
Her voice echoed for a moment, and then a silence fell over the hall.
 
"I see," the Voice said finally.
 
Ariel stared at him resolutely, though she wondered vaguely where the hell 'Eapherod' had come from. Some webcomic, perhaps? But what was it?
 
"Very well," he said. "You have lived and died in the service of your god. Go forth and continue as she commands."
 
''Now you run for it,'' the Dreamer whispered as everything went blank. ''And be careful. You never know when some...''
 
== New god: Eapherod ==
 
"Vardaman," Ariel began, "Have you ever heard of Eapherod?"
 
"What, the god of dreams?" He looked at her for a moment, then said, "Of course not. Who's heard of her?"
 
"Right, nevermind." She stared into the fire.
 
He finished a shalott and threw the bottle into the fire.
 
"Vardaman," Ariel began again as he tried to wrest a new bottle out of his bag. "Yesterday, had you ever heard of Eapherod?"
 
"What?" He gave her a weird look. "Why would yesterday be any different from today?"
 
"The world of men is dreaming," she said. "It has gone mad in its sleep, and a snake is strangling it, but it can't wake up."
 
"That makes absolutely no sense whatsoever."
 
"Yes."
 
"Good. I'm glad we've established this." He popped out the cork and took a long swig, savouring the strange textures of the top of the bottle.
 
"Vardaman," she said when he was done choking on the fumes. "Have you ever died?"
 
"Er... no?"
 
"Oh."
 
"Have you?" he finally asked.
 
"Of course."
 
He stared at her.
 
"It's like waking up, I suppose." She cocked her head. "Except I can't imagine ever waking. So instead of waking I die. Whereas you wake, so you don't need to die."
 
"That's... lovely."
 
"Is it?"
 
"No." He glowered at her. "Seriously, woman, I have no fucking idea what the hells you're talking about."
 
"Sorry," she said.
 
== Shrine and no mystery ==
 
"I know many things," Ariel said. "I know the atomic weight of curry, and the favourite colours of cast of Waste Land, and time it takes to drain a human body of blood given inadequate suction, and the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything."
 
"What is it?" the priestess asked.
 
"42," Ariel said. "At least that's the answer I'm sticking to. It's all a book, see. Always books."
 
"Right," Vardaman said, and got back the entire point of their being there. "Priestess, is Eapherod real?"
 
"Of course?" She looked at him quizzically.
 
"See?" he said, turning to Ariel. "Not made up. You now have the word of a woman in a weird black dress on that."
 
"Everything is made up at some point," Ariel said.
 
Vardaman rolled his eyes.
 
"I'm sorry," the priestess said, "But is there some particular problem you have?"
 
Vardaman grunted. "Dreams. Fucking weird things. Now zombies, those are sensible. You know where you stand with zombies."
 
"Where?"
 
He paused for a moment, then said. "Preferably very far away."
 
Ariel looked at him, confused. "But we've gone well out of our way to fight them."
 
"Right," he said. "And we've generally done it from a distance."
 
"Except when they had rocket launchers."
 
"Zombies aren't supposed to have rocket launchers."
 
"But those did."
 
"Those were different."
 
"Who are you people?" the priestess interrupted.
 
The two wanderers exchanged glances, and then Ariel said, "Well, he's a deathdealer, and I'm... I'm real. I'm real and I have pills and I am very clear on this."
 
The priestess gave them a long look.
 
"We were just leaving," Vardaman said, turning Ariel around. "Sorry to have bothered you."
 
But then Ariel pulled free. "Wait," she said, turning back to the priestess. "Do you dream the Dreamer's dream?"
 
"Of course."
 
"What is the square root of rope?"
 
"String?"
 
"Who reigns king of the sandcastle?"
 
"Kyrule of Arling Tor."
 
Ariel shrieked and hid behind Vardaman.
 
"What," he said, moving out of the way, "are you even on about now?"
 
"Who would you say reigns, little dreamer?" the priestess asked, as though in a trance.
 
Ariel stared for a moment and then sighed. "Oh, it's Kyrule. Definitely Kyrule. He just... he scares me, is all." She paused. "I mean... I could say Sherandris, but he ain't here and I ain't been anywhere but here, and he's going to die, the Dreamer doesn't want him to, but she made it so and now he's going to die just as sure as she is." She stopped for breath, then looked confused. "I'm confused."
 
Vardaman took the opportunity to finally steer Ariel out of the shrine.
 
== Hells ==
 
=== Honoured Dead ===
 
Ahead, three daemons stood over a solitary figure - an Honoured Dead, alone for reasons they could only guess. One of the daemons poked at him mockingly, and there was a roar of laughter as the Honoured backed away, looking around frightfully in the hopes of salvation.
 
Vardaman moved to pull Ariel into an alley, but the Honoured had already spotted them.
 
"You!" the Honoured commanded, "Help me!"
 
"Oh, shit," Vardaman muttered. They both felt the compulsion to obey, despite the seemingly worrying odds - the daemons were twice as big as they were, and as the Hells were their realm, only all the more powerful - but they also had little other incentive to resist, as such would only arouse suspicion.
 
Drawing his sword, Vardaman walked slowly forward and stopped in front of the Honoured, looking calmly up at the daemons while Ariel lingered behind, hopefully doing something useful. He wasn't sure if he could take on all three of them at once, and the Honoured Dead soul behind him had shown no signs of competence.
 
"You've got yourself an army now, dead soul," the lead daemon hissed. "Damned souls to do your bidding, and you think it'll save you?" Its companions bellowed laughter.
 
"Uh," the Honoured said. Then Ariel let out a yell and, jumping out from behind him, threw a pair of spells at the closer daemons. The leader dodged, but she managed to hit another. It disintegrated.
 
Taking his cue, Vardaman leapt forward as well, dodging around the others and slashing and stabbing at them with the agility born of years of simply trying to stay alive. It was short work, and as the last toppled behind him, he turned and angrily yelled at Ariel, "Can we perhaps come back to that discussion we were having before?"
 
"Er," she said, and hid behind the Honoured Dead.
 
"You know, that one about consequences!" He stopped as though finally noticing the petrified Honoured he'd been shouting around. "What?"
 
The Honoured let out a deep breath. "I thank you," he said, not looking at either of them.
 
Vardaman grimaced, then said, "Perhaps you can help us in turn. We're looking for someone..."
 
"Vardaman," Ariel interrupted, stepping around the Honoured soul. "Don't."
 
He looked at her. "What?"
 
"He won't know. No Honoured Dead could."
 
Vardaman groaned. "Oh, right. Of course not. They won't know anything. It's not like the name was in the Ledger." He stopped and then threw his arms into the air. "The name wasn't in the Ledger. Fuck! So how do we even know he's here, then? This could just be a wild goose chase!"
 
"Have faith." She smiled slightly. "For without it, what do we have left?"
 
"Eternal damnation?"
 
"Besides that?"
 
"No, I'm pretty sure it's just fucking eternal damnation." He grumbled, then swung his sword up and pointed it at the Honoured. "You," he said, "What do you know of daemons?"
 
The Honoured took a step backwards, probably more out of surprise than anything else. "The Lords rule the Hells. The lesser daemons serve them in battle?"
 
"Yes, yes," Vardaman said, lowering the sword. "But what do they do? How do they plan, where do they congregate, and if they try to pull some fucking stupid shit under the gods' noses, how would they go about it?"
 
"That's impossible. They cannot go against the gods, to do so would be..." he stared at Vardaman.
 
"What?" Ariel said. "Unthinkable?"
 
The Honoured nodded mutely.
 
"Think it."
 
"I..." he began, but then he stopped to think, to really think. "In the pits. In the fields. The Lords of this level reign from there, and the bloodiest battles are fought before them, with fodder of souls and soldiers. It is utter chaos, and neither side pays heed to details." He looked up at Ariel and Vardaman. "That is all I can think of. But at best you will only find scavengers... they would not actually pull anything. They could not."
 
"Yeah," Vardaman said. "The daemons of the Hells trying to spread their hell? Unthinkable."
 
== Temptress ==
 
"Ariel, you are the worst temptress ever."
 
"Oh?"
 
"You turn me against my god, and for what? Such a betrayal should at least entail some fun in the doing."
 
She laughed. "You're actually enjoying this, aren't you."
 
"Never."
 
"Not even a small bit?"
 
"Only if we get out of this alive."
 
"Afraid to face your god's wrath, are you?"
 
"Shut up."
 
== Escape up the river ==
 
"I'm afraid Ariel isn't available at present," Ariel's voice said. "She has had a significant trauma, and while the nature of dreams is resilient, even she cannot rebound so quickly."
 
"Then who..." Vardaman began.
 
"Eapherod," Kyrule said. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?"
 
Ariel smiled, whoever she was. "With a little patience, certainly. Do I know you?"
 
"Do you?" Kyrule said.
 
She looked at him for a moment, then said, "You are Kyrule of Arling Tor. I know you for the king you are, but you know me for something else entirely. What is it?"
 
"I only know a name. In your words, who are you?"
 
"Athyria of Kenning Vos."
 
"And Sherandris?"
 
"Reigns king of the sandcastle." When he said nothing, she asked, "Did Eapherod ever say who reigns?"
 
"I did not yet know to ask."
 
"Ask her if you get the chance."
 
== Death explained ==
 
"A house fell on me," Ariel said.
 
Vardaman turned toward her. "What?"
 
"You asked how I died," she said, staring off into space. "A house fell on me."
 
He rubbed his brow. "An entire house."
 
"Yes."
 
Confused, the high priest looked enquiringly to Vardaman.
 
"Just ignore her," Vardaman said. You've got to hand it to this gal, he thought to himself. Always chooses the absolutely weirdest times to raise questions... and damn strange ones they tended to be, at that.
 
"Okay..."
 
== The mystery ==
 
"Coraline's the mystery! We have to save her."
 
"Save her from what?"
 
"From the princess, of course!"
 
== Random ==
 
"Remember, I don't know what I'm talking about."
 
 
 
----
 
 
 
{{book of dreams|1=
Go on, then. You will find the keys to the cupboard behind he who reigns king of the sandcastle. Riddle? Sort of. But you'll see what I mean. Pass the gates, find the mongoose, and you shall see.
}}
 
== Eapherod ==
 
"Isn't Eapherod dead?" Vardaman asked. Then, suddenly looking very confused, he turned toward Ariel.
 
"Don't look at me," she said. "I haven't the foggiest idea about anything because I don't have the foggiest idea about any of this and I don't have the foggiest idea at all because I don't know anything because I don't know anything and I don't know anything and I don't know anything and it's all not anything so don't look at me!" She clapped her hands over her ears and stared determinedly off into space.
 
Vardaman blinked. Lacking any idea of anything better to do, he blinked again, and then a few times more. Finally, he said, "What?"
 
"Yes," the man said.
 
But Vardaman wasn't so sure. Eapherod had certainly seemed alive when she'd spoken through Ariel before. If that had been Eapherod. What had Kyrule called her?
 
Ariel interrupted his thoughts by saying, "The wombats are right, you know. Gods really are entirely more trouble than they're worth."
 
"No," the man said.
 
"No," Ariel said.
 
"Yes," the man said.
 
"Yes," Ariel parroted.
 
"Yes," the man repeated.
 
"The Dark Sister cannot die," Ariel said. "She who was living is still living, though not necessarily here. I bet your Kyrule knows. He's awfully shiny. I doubt she'll listen to him. I know I wouldn't."
 
"Yes," the man repeated again, not really paying any attention.
 
"Sometimes I'm her, you know," Ariel said dreamily. "I wonder who she'll be after she dies. I wonder if death truly is the heaven to the hell of dying. I don't want to see it, but there's nothing to see anyway. Nothing is scary. Defines too much."
 
== Ariel's reactions to gods ==
 
Vardaman elbowed Ariel in the ribs.
 
It took a moment for her to respond, but when she did, he said, "Kyrule."
 
She hissed.
 
Then he said, "Eapherod."
 
Her eye twitched.
 
"Alyre."
 
"Her I like," Ariel said.
 
He shook his head bemusedly. "You are bizarre."
 
She grinned and said, "Veshura!'
 
"What about her?"
 
"I like her too."
 
"Bizarre."
 
"Name reminds me of Ganesh," she said. "Deeds of Boethia. No real downsides."
 
"And would those be cats or gods?"
 
"Why choose? Why ever choose when you can have cats ''and'' gods? Lokshmi forever!"
 
He looked at her.
 
"What? Lokshmi is awesome. Saves the world, you know. She does. I think?"
 
== Random ==
 
"The cleric has a bunch of dead gods in her head. She'll tell you all about how these are better than yours. And perhaps they are. They're older, at least."
 
 
 
----
 
 
 
"Hazz'ridan!" Ariel yelled angrily.
 
"You and your cursing Hazz'ridan." Vardaman shook his head.
 
"It's what he's there for. Grack!" She glowered for emphasis.
 
"To be cursed?"
 
Ariel looked at him. "He's a bloody god of dead ends. What the buckets else would he be there for?"
 
== Juggling ale ==
 
She juggled some ale. Something niggled in her mind, something about the mystery. Who was it? Where were they going? Who was this Coraline? There was something about it that she was unsure about, but she also wasn't sure about just what that was.
 
Vardaman, of course, was still drinking his. Strange effect it had on him. Was it because he was human? Or was it because he was real? In dreams, it was as though everything was real, and everything was nothing. Perhaps that was also why the ale changed nothing. It was all still real, all still there, all still so perfectly reasonable. Juggling ale, of course, was reasonable too.
 
"Nice," someone said.
 
"Hmm?" she turned toward the voice, then completely freaked out. It was... what was it? A monster, a horror, a... a... "AAAAGH!" she yelled, and dropped the ale all over her feet in her haste to get away, to flee.
 
"I'm sorry," the figure said. It looked... human? Underneath the horror, a human. "I didn't mean to startle you."
 
She backed away. "I... I... what... you..." She stopped for breath. "What ''are'' you?"
 
It looked confused. "A humble priest, nothing more."
 
Ariel looked at it. It was... terrifying. She wasn't sure why, but here, standing before her, she perceived a monster. And yet all she saw was a man, an ordinary man, robed in black. Strong in his faith, coloured like Vardaman. Like death. Like Kyrule.
 
"Are you okay?" he asked. He looked genuinely concerned.
 
She closed her eyes. "I'm sorry. It's your Lord. Your Lord scares the ever-living shit out of me, frankly, and I guess I freaked out a bit because of that and I'm sorry."
 
"Why?" he asked.
 
She looked at him again. That was, actually, a rather excellent question. Why, indeed? Because... "Because I fucked up," she said. "I fucked up and now, to me, he is a symbol of that failure." She unconsciously drew the ale back up off the ground into a twiling ball and laughed. "How stupid is that?"
 
"But why would Kyrule be such a symbol?" the priest asked.
 
She flinched at the name, but said, "He caught me."
 
"Caught?"
 
She broke the ball up into bits and started juggling again. "That's what we call it. The souls of the dead just sort of drift out, you know, until the deathgod catches them. And one time he caught me, and it didn't go quite proper. I'm not sure why. Something about... something. I can't explain it, it's just this feeling, it was missing and it didn't work."
 
The priest-horror looked confused.
 
"Wasn't his fault, though" Ariel said. "He did everything proper. It was the Dreamer, she kind of borked it."
 
"What dreamer?"
 
"Oh, Eapherod as Eapherod, she never would. I don't think she ever could. She's too... well, let's just say she knows a thing or two Kyrule don't. Or she will. Once she finally shows up all those years ago." Ariel laughed and lobbed a ball of ale at the priest's head.
 
When he ducked, she darted past and out the door, out into the night and the sweet, sweet wind, where she could yell and chatter with all her might, without anyone to object.
 
== Dead body ==
 
Ariel poked the body with a stick. "In my professional medical opinion," she said dramatically, "this is a dead body."
 
"Really?!" Vardaman said with mock shock.
 
She dropped the stick and knelt down by it. "Oh, yes." She started checking out various aspects of the corpse in more detail - limbs and various regions for bruising and signs of broken bones; eyes and mouth for general oddities; wrists, ankles, and neck for ligature marks; everywhere in general for discolourations; and so forth. "Hey Vardaman," she said, "how do undead work?"
 
"You know what?" he said, picking up Ariel, "You're done here." He carried her several feet away and set her down again, facing away. "Stay there, yes?"
 
She eyeballed him, but said nothing as he went back to the body. And, for the time being, she even stayed put.
 
== Thing with Ariel and a hole ==
 
=== Ale on head ===
 
Ariel announced, "Vardaman activates special power: become shit-faced drunk!"
 
He responded by dumping the rest of his ale on her head and shoving the empty mug back toward the barkeep.
 
Ariel stood and glared at him.
 
The barkeep gave him and Ariel an odd look, but, when it became clear she wasn't actually going to do anything about it, obliged and refilled the mug, which Vardaman took and happily went back to working on.
 
"Right, then," Ariel said, and wandered away from the bar. She cast a quick spell to get the ale out of her hair and, twirling it between her hands absent-mindedly, wondered just what to do now.
 
 
 
----
 
 
 
"What are they?" Ariel asked.
 
"We have no idea," Nellis said. "They act like zombies, but they're... well, they're not. They're not really undead at all."
 
=== Woods ===
 
They set out into the woods as soon as they were equipped. The ranger took point, guiding them through the dark, with Ariel and Nellis close behind. It seemed a mission of great importance and urgency. Ariel had a really bad feeling about it, but said nothing.
 
The clearing wasn't far. They came out of the trees and were met by a well of moonlight and utter horror rising out of the brush, sinking into the depths of what seemed almost a ravine, though in truth it was nothing more than a small hollow. Dark and indiscernible objects littered the floor, but what drew the eye, what really drew it, was the pool of absolute nothing in the centre. It was a blackness so pure it gleamed, though no light could ever reflect from something so hungry, so empty.
 
"Now you see why we were concerned?" Nellis whispered.
 
The ranger led them to a group of rocks overlooking the hollow. From here they could see everything, but anything looking up would be unlikely to see them, if it even looked with eyes. For the moment all was still, so it was hard to guess.
 
"Stay here, then," Ariel said. "I'ma get a closer look." She had no idea what she hoped to accomplish, but part of her knew this was too important to trip up over such meddling details as her innate incompetence. As she stood, she faded into the background, not exactly invisible, but just not important anymore. The others could still see her, but anything that didn't know she was there would have had a very hard time ever noticing her.
 
She half slid, half fell down to the bottom, but none of the mounds stirred. They seemed... asleep. Animals of the forest that were no longer animals, slumbering together irregardless of what they had been - a bull here, a mountain cat there, rabbits, wolves, badgers. But now they were dangerous, paying her no mind as she walked past only because they didn't know she was there. She could feel it, the menace, the fright, the confusion... the hunger. It scared her.
 
And the closer she got to the pool, the stronger it got.
 
She stopped by its shore. Oblong and dark. Flat and empty. The same from all angles. It looked like a rendering error, almost. A rendering error that had tried to mate with a black hole. She picked up a pebble and dropped it in. It hit in silence and disappeared.
 
Ariel looked around, but the slumbering mounds around were as still as ever. Nellis and the ranger seemed to still be by the rocks. It was all on her at the moment. Fuck, she thought, and stuck her bow into the ground so it stood by the shore, by the edge, like a sentinel. And so it would be.
 
Focussing her mind on the bow such that she could return to it, and only it, she jumped into the pool of blackness.
 
=== Visions ===
 
She was in a room, square by rectangle by square. The walls were smooth and precise. The ceiling glowed, an indistinct light source. The floor had a slightly raised pad on one side, and a slight indentation on the other. There were no windows or doors.
 
"''Prisoner 8471369, you are called to stay. Stay your piece.''" The voice filled the room like an intercom. It made as much sense as one too.
 
"What?" Ariel said.
 
There was no response. No change.
 
The bow echoed in the back of her mind like a beacon, though she wasn't entirely sure what to do with it.
 
She sat on the pad. She paced and waited. The voice returned, and repeated its words.
 
"''Prisoner 8471369, you are called to stay. Stay your piece.''"
 
She tried to argue, tried to plead. When it came again she tried to throw a piece of her clothing, but the robe had nothing to throw. It was simply there.
 
She sat. She waited. The voice came and went. She waited and responded. It came and went. She stood, she spoke, she bounced off walls. Mad words came to her lips and filled the room. The voice still came, still stayed the same, still intoned its odd request.
 
"''Prisoner 8471369, you are called to stay. Stay your piece.''"
 
Nothing changed.
 
"''Prisoner 8471369, you are called to stay. Stay your piece.''"
 
Repetition of silence and voice.
 
Light without shadow.
 
Sound without source.
 
No hunger. No sleep.
 
The voice as she sat and waited. The silence as she told herself stories, as she tried to dream, oh, how she tried to dream. But there was nothing left to dream. There was nobody to be. Who was she?
 
Long silence, interruption and long silence. Nothing to say or do. Nothing but walls. Floor. Ceiling. A bow in the back of her mind like a beacon. The voice.
 
"''Prisoner 8471369, you are called to stay. Stay your piece.''"
 
Nothing but time.
 
Time.
 
"''Prisoner 8471369, you are called to stay. Stay your piece.''"
 
Nothing.
 
Nothing.
 
Nothing.
 
There was simply nothing. She slipped into the void.
 
 
She was standing by the pool again. Memories, voices, feelings, flooded about in a cacophony of normalcy. She knew who she was. She knew where she was. Her hand was on the bow. The pool was before her. It had all been... a dream? Or had it? She stared at the pool in abject terror. If it was a pool. If it was anything at all.
 
She would have to try again.
 
Everything about her wanted to flee, but instead she focussed on the bow and leapt once more.
 
 
... (another)
 
 
She was standing by the pool, shaking. A lifetime. It had been an entire lifetime. Forever in a moment. And now here she was again. What was this? What?
 
 
... (another)
 
 
=== Closing the hole ===
 
She was standing by the pool. None of it meant a damn thing. It was all just objects, fragments, pieces and pieces of nothing at all.
 
She shook herself. What the hell had happened? Nothing had happened. Everything had happened. It didn't matter. Here she was.
 
''It's a portal. A hole.'' the Dreamer said. ''You know what you need to do.''
 
Ariel looked around at the slumbering mounds and nodded. She pulled an arrow from her quiver and got to work, driving it into each form, and waiting while each ceased to move and became mostly harmless once more. Dispersing the darkness. When the arrow faded or broke, she simply got out another.
 
Then there were none left, just empty carcasses. The sky was lightening. Birds and insects sang, though none particularly nearby.
 
Nellis and the ranger were picking their way past the forest's dead like the uncertain victors of a battle that had made no sense. Probably because it hadn't.
 
"What now?" Nellis said.
 
"Now we pray." Ariel said, looking toward the pool. The portal. They needed to get rid of it.
 
Nellis raised an eyebrow.
 
Ariel paused, but pulled out another arrow. "This," she said, pointing toward the portal. "While this is here, it won't ever stop."
 
"But how?" the ranger said.
 
She smiled and turned back to it. In truth, she was scared out of her wits, but it didn't matter. It couldn't. She said the words. "Kyrule of Arling Tor," she intoned, "I, who have no name, would call on you in the name of Kenning Vos, to close this hole upon your kingdom, and upon all others. Act through my motions, and end this."
 
Then she whispered, "Dreamer, guide my eyes, for I cannot see."
 
She poked the pool with the arrow.
 
There was darkness. There was light. There was pain, and then there was nothing at all.
 
Sunlight exploded into the clearing. The pool was gone. Ariel lay by her bow, the strange shadowy arrow still in hand, all too still. But the air had cleared, and the sense of wrongness that had pervaded the area was gone as well.
 
Nellis ran and rolled her over, but she was clearly dead, skin too pale to seem skin at all, eyes that faded into blackness. The arrow dissolved into dust as it slipped from her lifeless hand.
 
"What in the hells?" the ranger asked. "The Lord of Death wouldn't take her for that, would he?"
 
Nellis shook his head. "I don't know. With this... it may have been a necessary sacrifice."
 
The other bowed his head, then shook it. "She knew."
 
"Perhaps. It was certainly no coincidence that I found her." He sighed. "Let's get back to the city."
 
=== Awkward conversation ===
 
"I was created with a single purpose in mind, and I existed to fulfil that purpose above all else. But something came up that took precedence."
 
"What?"
 
She shook her head. "It is strange to have one's very existence called into question, and then sacrifice everything for that question. Very strange," she said. Then she looked straight at him. "We look to our kings, Vardaman."
 
"What happened?" he asked, confused.
 
But she only shook her head again. "You should ask Kyrule. My Dreamer would not have me say."
 
== Random ==
 
"Eapherod is just a sideshow."
 
 
 
----
 
 
 
"Do you think the gods ever get stoned?"
 
"Have you ever seen a bellduck?"
 
== Another hells thing ==
 
When she passed through the Gate, she was alone. Whether this was by design or instead a simple struck of luck was unknown to her, but it didn't matter - the course was the same regardless. Forward, and on.
 
It was a standard hell: plains of lava, interspersed with the Towers. Souls and demons stood around and passed from each to each, doing their things, striding across the firey ground as though nothing were off. Cosmetic? she wondered vaguely, and looked up to the closest tower, directly ahead, welcoming all who passed the Gate with its immense architecture. It would be the proper way to go. The standard. Best avoided.
 
She skirted across the lava fields instead, dancing through the licking flames. She didn't know where she was going, but she had an idea regardless. This way. Onwards.
 
=== Back door ===
 
The back door was untended, so she pushed it open and slipped through.
 
The other side was a breath of strange air, architecture reminiscent of a rising city, party guests in formal attire, fake snow falling to the carpet. A large evergreen was decked out in tinsel and baubles.
 
Christmas? Ariel wondered. But how? Then one of them was telling her, "Welcome, welcome! Take off your coat!" and she was ushered up into the next hall.
 
This was not a Hall of the Hells, however. This was a high society Christmas party in full swing, full of lights and colours and laughter, with trees lining the hall, tables full of delights, and a dance floor that mesmerised with its swing and twirl. She pushed past guests who smiled and laughed, and guests who paid her no heed at all. Her dress did not fit this, with her leather coat and long pants, but she noticed a few others in similar interspersed amongst the crowd. Other denizens of the Hells? Somehow she didn't think so. This was personal to her.
 
Or it would have been, had it been her own memory.
 
=== Ascension ===
 
She darted past the demon before he could really make note, and he made no further move to stop her. Up, she pressed. To stairs. To the lifts. Around the demons, away from them. They would question, and answers she did not have. A demon on the landing, so take the lift. Prisoners in the hall, so take a moment to join them, blend in, and rest. Not that she truly needed it in this place, but it was in her nature to stop from time to time, so stop she did.
 
They talked, they mourned, and they did not discuss their fates. She reminisced with them, calling out the oddities of life, and the strangers that had been known, and they all nodded and understood. Yes. They'd been there.
 
Then the guards called for a move on, and she slipped away.
 
 
 
----
 
 
 
She paused at the landing. A guard stood before the next door, though it didn't look like any she'd seen below, so she headed for the lift instead, and the guard began to move too, gliding towards her at angles. Then she was inside, the half-doors closed, and the guard stopped as the lift began to rise.
 
More guards when she came out, here covering each of the three exits. She rolled past the closest before it could react, and realised what they were - not flesh and blood and magic like the demons themselves, but mechanical. Automatons to guard and hunt. No demon would show mercy, but they did have humour - these would not. This made them dangerous.
 
She threw her coat over the one at the stairs and didn't stop to check if it had even worked as she ran past, up, up.
 
These stairs ended in a lobby, two more of the automaton guards silently waiting for her. She pushed the nearer one away as it made a grab, and followed the force of the action over it in a long leap, landing heavily on the hard grey floor. As she regained her feet, several more automatons glided out of doorways. Behind her, the automaton she had pushed was rising wobblily, but the other was also approaching, cutting off all escape.
 
Ariel stopped, and sighed. "I surrender!" she said, holding out her hands. Somewhat to her surprise, the automatons likewise stopped, then one drifted toward a doorway and she implicitly knew it expected her to follow. She did.
 
It led her up three floors and down several corridors before stopping outside some sort of office, two demons standing guard by the door. After a moment, the door slid open and she was ushered before the desk, and the grotesque occupant of the desk. He considered her for a moment, and she regarded him as well - a large demon, out of place but not in a pretentious corporate office, nameplate, in-box, telephone, plastic plant and all. The imagery had to be drawn from her own mind, the Dreamer told her. The odds of something this specific appearing somewhere so distant were slim to none.
 
"So," he said silkily. "Ariel Sartorien, is it?"
 
She didn't answer. He knew enough already.
 
He paused, then nodded. "Very unusual for a Damned to come so far. Are you, then?"
 
She waited a moment for him to go on, but he didn't. "What?" she finally asked.
 
"Damned. Are you really?" He was smiling slightly now, as though enjoying some private little joke.
 
"Should I not be?" she said innocently.
 
Now the demon broke out into a full grin, horrifying in its potential. "Let's find out," he said, and the office faded away into nothing.
 
== Heroes! ==
 
There is a story here, perhaps. It's not about them.
 
 
== Vardaman and Coraline ==
 
<screenplay>
VARDAMAN
Are you Coraline Henderson?
 
CORALINE
(looking him over)
No. Should I be?
 
VARDAMAN
Are you?
 
CORALINE
Whatever it was, I'm innocent, really.
 
Zaeres raises an eyebrow.
 
CORALINE
Well, probably.
 
VARDAMAN
(suspiciously)
Probably?
 
CORALINE
Weeell, if this is about a pile of bodies, I ''might'' have done that.
 
VARDAMAN
(looking somewhat worried now)
Erm...
 
ZAERES
Supposing this is your Coraline Henderson, what would you be wanting of her? An answer to that might help to... persuade her more agreeable nature.
 
VARDAMAN
You know what, I'm really hoping she's not.
 
CORALINE
Aww. You're just saying that because you're not drunk enough yet.
 
VARDAMAN
Are you trying to bribe me?
 
Coraline grins, and hefts a bottle of shalott.
 
CORALINE
Will it work?
 
She waves it and nearly falls over, but before she can Zaeres grabs her shoulder.
 
VARDAMAN
Right...
 
CORALINE
Yes, alright, fine. I'm Coraline, though please don't call me that? Names are dangerous, is all.
 
VARDAMAN
So what, then?
 
ZAERES
Denereise.
 
VARDAMAN
And Kyrule called you Coraline because...?
 
CORALINE
(waving the bottle)
Because calling me Nelanor would have been really weird!
 
ZAERES
Nelanor?
 
CORALINE
(still waving the bottle)
That's my name. Don't wear it out.
 
ZAERES
Your true name? Oh, Denereise, you just told us your true name.
 
She swings the bottle at him, but misses completely.
 
CORALINE
Stuff it, Alores.
 
VARDAMAN
Is it really?
 
CORALINE
Sandcastles.
 
VARDAMAN
(he groans)
Oh.
 
ZAERES
What.
 
BARKEEPER
(leaning forward)
Is there a dragon involved?
 
CORALINE
(perking up)
You know, there totally should be.
 
VARDAMAN
(ignoring the barkeeper)
Nelanor of...?
 
CORALINE
Kenning Vos.
 
VARDAMAN
I know the name. Why do I know the name?
 
CORALINE
(now acting less drunk and more just tired)
Because time.
 
VARDAMAN
Time?
 
CORALINE
Zrai. Teleoth. Zorachar. Ejran. Athyria. Sherandris.
Isarra. Nelanor.
 
VARDAMAN
Fucking hells.
 
CORALINE
(tiredly)
Time.
 
BARKEEPER
So. Dragon? Or no dragon?
 
 
 
----
 
 
 
VARDAMAN
Will you stop acting drunk?
 
CORALINE
But I am drunk!
 
VARDAMAN
That's entirely beside the point!
 
CORALINE
(she suddenly relaxes)
Okay, you're right, it is.
</screenplay>
 
== Fuller's wife ==
 
<screenplay>
FULLER
Hold a moment. Is this a mission that might be considered 'worthy'?
 
CORALINE
Worthy of what?
 
FULLER
You know, a worthy cause. Just. Proper. Good.
 
CORALINE
(confused)
You mean like with orphans and stuff?
 
FULLER
Er...
(he stops to think)
I don't think so? I mean is it more a matter of getting treasure or whatever, or more along the lines of 'this is right and we're doing this because it's right' sort of thing?
 
CORALINE
I think it's mostly just an OH GODS I DON'T WANT TO DIE sort of thing, really.
 
FULLER
Oh. Well, it don't really matter to me one way or another, 'cept if it is a worthy cause and stuff I should really tell my wife. She's... into that sort of thing.
 
VARDAMAN
Into?
 
FULLER
You know, real pally and shit.
 
ZAERES
(smiling)
Tell me, Denereise. Are you a worthy cause?
 
CORALINE
(She snorts with laughter)
Fuck me.
 
VARDAMAN
(He grunts)
I dunno how worthy this is, but there's an angel involved.
 
CORALINE
Oh, no, no, no...
 
VARDAMAN
(surprised, but somewhat pleased by this reaction in spite of himself)
That was my thinking too. So I let this crazy person I know take her shopping. We'll see if there's still an angel involved after they're done.
Anyway, Fuller, go on and get your righteous lass. She should meet our dear... cause and decide for herself, I think.
 
FULLER
(he shrugs)
All the same to me.
 
He heads out back.
 
CORALINE
Crazy person?
</screenplay>
 
== Crown ==
 
<screenplay>
AERYIN
(laughing)
Fuller, you look ridiculous. Why in the hells are you wearing that stupid crown?
 
He flourishes it.
 
FULLER
Oh, it's perfectly cunning.
 
CORALINE
Like a knitted stocking cap from your mum?
 
AERYIN
He would wear one of those far more proudly.
 
FULLER
You know I would.
</screenplay>
 
== Dead Fuller ==
 
<screenplay>
There was a fight. Fuller got killed.
 
CORALINE
You know, this sort of thing is exactly why I like to ''avoid'' fights.
(she winces)
Sorry. That's a pretty stupid thing to say now, isn't it?
 
Aeryin glares at her.
 
ZAERES
I could raise him as a zombie if you'd like. You'd get to keep all of his good looks and charm, but without any of that troublesome soul business.
 
AERYIN
(furious)
Why... you... How dare you!
 
Ariel places a hand on Aeryin's arm, but looks off into the distance.
 
ARIEL
So according to the liquids guy, who isn't the bear soup fellow, there's three things you need for a resurrection: a soul, some kind of component, and... and...
(she stops, trying to remember)
Glue?
 
CORALINE
I think Zaeres said the soul ''was'' the glue, Ariel.
 
ARIEL
What, no, I said that. I wanted glue because I was trying to make some tape.
(she shakes her head)
Nevermind.
 
AERYIN
Vardaman, is there nothing you can do? Plead to your Lord for his return? A resurrection...
 
VARDAMAN
You know it's not done, least of all by us.
 
ARIEL
You did it for me, didn't you? Not that it worked, but... still."
(Her eyes narrow in accusation)
And you spoke to her! What did she say?
 
VARDAMAN
Just some things that didn't make a whole lot of sense. Ariel, come here, will you?
 
ARIEL
(obliging)
Wot?
 
He draws her slightly away from the others and whispers something in her ear. A hushed discussion follows.
 
AERYIN
He's really dead. After everything, I couldn't protect him.
 
CORALINE
But you can't protect everyone all the time. Sometimes things happen. It's just life.
 
Aeryin closes her eyes. Nobody says anything for a bit.
 
CORALINE
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
 
Ariel runs back and starts to kneel over Fuller's body, then suddenly lies down on top of him. Vardaman comes back as well.
 
AERYIN
What...?
 
VARDAMAN
Ariel...
 
ARIEL
(in a whisper, her head on his chest)
Dreamer.
 
Suddenly Fuller stirs, and groans.
 
AERYIN
Fuller?! Fuller!
 
Ariel scrambles out of the way as Aeryin pushes to his side.
 
FULLER
(sitting up)
Aeryin, what...
 
They hug and kiss and crap.
 
VARDAMAN
(to Ariel)
Good job. Your first divine spell. You're clearly a cleric now.
 
ARIEL
Er. That... so... what happened was basically that... er... I prayed to Eapherod and she... did some stuff... and... sent me some magic and... interceded before Kyrule to get the soul of the dead into... er... this... what?
 
VARDAMAN
Basically.
 
ARIEL
Er. I think I'll stick to sorcery.
 
Vardaman snorts.
 
ZAERES
But I've seen resurrections before. They don't look like that. They're generally flashier, for one.
 
CORALINE
But why would you expect flashy from a god of dreams? In dreams everything is normal. It all fits. Even when there are suddenly tentacles everywhere, it all fits.
 
ARIEL
Tentacles!
</screenplay>
 
== Fancy last meal ==
 
<screenplay>
CORALINE
So.
 
AERYIN
So.
 
CORALINE
So we're all here, at this nexus point, this turn of the story, this place where the plot thickens and congeals. And we're faced with an overwhelming question.
(she picks up a menu and flips it melodramatically)
What shall we have to eat?
 
FULLER
Important questions.
 
VARDAMAN
What about how we're planning to pay for this this? Anyone stop to think about that?
 
ZAERES
As I said, money is not an obstacle.
 
VARDAMAN
You said money isn't an obstacle, not that you'd spend it on us.
 
MYRR
(staring at her menu)
I do not understand this. These... courses. Does this mean we are to eat multiple... pieces?
(she looks up)
My apologies. You know I am not well accustomed to the matters of food.
 
FULLER
(jabbing a fork in Myrr's direction)
Remind me, why did we bring her?
 
Aeryin snorts.
 
VARDAMAN
Something about politeness and togetherness and propriety and crap.
(he shrugs)
Fuck if I know.
 
MYRR
So we are together?
 
VARDAMAN
(He grunts.)
Looks like it.
 
MYRR
If we are of common cause, then we are always together.
 
VARDAMAN
Sure.
 
A waiter appears behind her.
 
WAITER
(solemnly)
Are we ready to begin?
 
Vardaman shrugs again. A few of the others look uncertain. Zaeres looks around the table consideringly before finally settling his gaze on the waiter.
 
ZAERES
Yes. I believe we are.
 
CORALINE
Do you use real coconut milk? I only ask because we always had to use canned stuff back home and it was kind of... off. Funny aftertaste. Not at all like what you got in Singapore. And don't even get me started on the mangoes.
 
WAITER
We do not serve mangoes.
 
CORALINE
Of course you don't. There's no way you could get them this far north.
</screenplay>
 
== City of Death ==
 
<screenplay>
CORALINE
I don't want to run anymore. I just want to stop. To stop. To stop letting everybody down, to stop ruining everything, to stop having to run because there's nothing else I ''can'' do, there's nothing else left! I can't take it anymore, and I know this is utterly selfish, but dammit, please, help me. Help me stop running.
 
KYRULE
From here, you can be saved. Push the curse back into the world, and you will be free.
 
CORALINE
That ain't freedom. That's just running. More running on top of everything else.
 
Kyrule says nothing.
 
CORALINE
Isn't there anything? Anything else?
 
KYRULE
There is... another possibility. A sacrifice. But it is not meant for you.
 
CORALINE
And why not?
 
KYRULE
You should go. Free yourself and go. Wait for your story to follow.
 
CORALINE
Is it because I'm Nelanor? Because I was the one who named you King? Is that it?
 
KYRULE
Go. It is not your concern.
 
CORALINE
It bloody well is. Tell me, Kyrule.
 
KYRULE
Are you asking as Nelanor?
 
CORALINE
What?
 
KYRULE
Free yourself and go, Nelanor of Kenning Vos.
 
He vanishes. Coraline stares at the spot where he had been.
 
CORALINE
(yelling after him)
Can't you at least tell me where the fuck my soul even is?!
 
There is no response. Swirls of dust drift across the street, a sphinx licks itself in a doorway, the river makes its strange creaking noises in the distance. A little ways down the street, a Lost walks into a lamppost.
 
CORALINE
Right. Fine.
 
She pulls out a bottle of brandy and took a swig.
 
BERTRAM
(behind her)
That's one way to avoid your problems.
 
CORALINE
What, you got a better idea?
 
BERTRAM
(He shrugs)
Do you know the name Shalias zu Harenai?
 
CORALINE
Aye.
 
BERTRAM
Her story, that of the Betrayer, is that to which Kyrule referred. Like you, Shalias carried the Death of Souls, and like you, she chose to fight it, though not in... quite the same way.
 
CORALINE
Yeah, but that's not really helpful here.
 
BERTRAM
Shalias found a way to end it, though this solution, too, was not the one you found.
 
CORALINE
So my ways are better all around, are they?
 
He raises an eyebrow.
 
CORALINE
Well, aside from the whole not working. Did hers? Work, I mean.
 
BERTRAM
She never carried it out. The price was too high, and she chose to save only herself instead, pushing the curse back into the world, where it has led to the destruction of thousands.
 
CORALINE
And that... is what Kyrule ''wants'' me to do? What she did?
 
BERTRAM
Shalias betrayed her faith and her obligation to the people she should have protected. You share no such obligation. These are not your people, and Kyrule is not your god.
 
CORALINE
Right. So what exactly was it? That she didn't do.
 
The Voice doesn't answer.
 
CORALINE
I assure you my intentions pursuing this are purely sexual in nature.
 
He doesn't respond to this either and they stand around awkwardly for a bit.
 
BERTRAM
Find the rest of your soul, Coraline Henderson. The gateway is in the ruins beneath the Amn.
 
CORALINE
What didn't Shalias do?
 
BERTRAM
There you must choose.
 
CORALINE
(giving up)
Choose what?
 
BERTRAM
Whether you will make the sacrifice, or save yourself.
 
CORALINE
(finally snapping)
For the love of all things shiny, ''what sacrifice?!''
</screenplay>
 
== Fragments of a soul ==
 
It shifted in her hands - first a rock, then a mask, then a sword, then a length of chain. It knew no more what it was than what it was supposed to be, and yet it clearly wasn't anything more than an object. But nothing is more than an object, now is it?
 
"What is it?" she asked.
 
"An emblem." He gestured toward the pits. "A representation, if you will, of what has come to pass. Of what was lost."
 
She watched it for a time as it changed, never the same thing twice, though at times similar. It could not make up its mind, if it even had one, because it did not know. "It's the mystery," she said finally. "Ariel thought I was the mystery, but really it's this. It's him."
 
"So you see it," the dark figure said. "So it shall be."
 
And then she awoke.
 
== Randomness ==
 
 
"I don't see it. This is madness."
 
== World's Gate ==
 
When Coraline, Myyr, and Fuller passed through the World's Gate, it was not as an epic finale to their grand quest. There was no fanfare, no drama, no replay of history to beckon them down the same desperate paths as had claimed the lives of the heroes of yore. Instead, they stepped through to the Underworld quite undramatically, looked around uncertainly, and then made sure their radios were still working.
 
When the Gate closed, they made sure they were still still working.
 
Turned out they were.
 
"Hey, you never can never be quite sure with these things," Fuller whispered. "Can't trust this kind of magic."
 
Myrr gave him a look that said absolutely nothing. Coraline snorted.
 
They appeared to be on a street of sorts, though it was unlike any street any of them had seen before, simply a perfectly flat, straight length shaped into the sandy, dusty terrain. Behind them it ended at an impossible wall, too high to follow, and ahead it stretched through further lifeless hills and crannies until the sand gave way to city, a vastness that spanned the entire horizon, sprawling in shapes and forms. One broken tower soared above the rest, fading into the sky itself, but it seemed to only emphasise how jagged the rest were with its own irregular form.
 
It was clear that nobody out here had been expecting them. People, or what had once been people, loitered in the sand, but it was with such a listless air that they might as well have been sand themselves. Nobody was going anywhere. Some of the denizens glanced at them in passing, but few even saw them at all. It was questionable that most ever saw anything anymore.
 
"This is the sky under which you will end, Coraline Henderson," Myyr said. "I do not know when or how, but it is so."
 
"I don't want to hear that," Coraline said. The sky was like an abyss, black and swirled over with other shades of black, but it had no depth to it. It was just there. It made her feel sick.
 
"It's an abyss," Fuller said.
 
"How abysmal of it."
 
"Yeah."
 
 
 
----
 
 
 
The battle had spilled into the streets, though this high up the defenders definitely had the upper hand. Those skirmishes they ran into were small enough to walk around without any trouble.
 
 
 
----
 
 
 
Coraline propped up her staff and sighted down its length. "I see some folk out there. They look important. Think I could hit them from here?"
 
"Don't," Myrr said. "It's not our fight."
 
"It's a fight, though. Could be interesting to try." Fuller grinned, but it was clear his heart wasn't in it.
 
== End of Dream ==
 
"Fuck," Ariel said, and shattered into dust.
 
The dreamer had died, and her dream died with her.
 
 
 
----
 
 
 
Coraline never exactly got the news. When there was no response from Vardaman and Ariel, it only confirmed what she already knew to be true.
 
They had lost.
 
== The Between ==
 
Souls rising around. Swirls of light dancing upon ground and surface. Pools shimmering into the distances, spires rising from their waters. Depths falling into nothing. A feeling of a vast cavern, a vast space between places. A realm of transition, and of motion. No way in. No way out.
 
Voices fill the space. Of memories, of fragments. Lives to precious to let go. Voices that threaten, that plead, that question. Confusion and tulmult. Echoes and whispers and shouts of secrets and legends. The shout and the call and the reverberation of voices against the vastness.
 
It is not a real place, but it exists. Like the room. Like the garden. Like the city above. It is there, but not.
 
Those who live will never see it, and those who see it will not remember.
 
Or so everyone ''thought''.
 
The kids looked up when they saw the newcomers approaching.
 
== The souls within the soul, the place where they should be ==
 
=== Door ===
 
<screenplay>
CORALINE
It's like a videogame... except if it were one I wouldn't be standing here in my undies.
 
 
 
----
 
 
 
 
DOOR
Oh, hello, welcome, welcome! If I'd known there was a lady coming I would have been able to give you a proper welcome.
 
He doesn't seem to notice her attire - or lack thereof.
 
CORALINE
Hi...
(she looks around)
Do you get a lot of visitors here?
 
DOOR
Oh, none. In fact I'm not sure there have been any at all. It's a very quiet place, this. I can hardly remember...
(he looks at her bemusedly)
You haven't seen a dog, by any chance?
 
CORALINE
Who are you?
 
DOOR
Oh, well, that's... you know, I don't quite recall. Doesn't matter, though. What good is a name, really?
 
CORALINE
Francis Door?
 
He flinches.
 
CORALINE
But this is a dream.
</screenplay>
 
=== Avatar of the void ===
 
<screenplay>
Coraline is in her tavern behind the bar. Toast is toasting in the kitchen. An overnight is drinking some tea, looking hung-over. This... hadn't been what she'd expected coming downstairs; for some reason she had expected a library... but she'd found a bar instead. Weren't they the same?
 
She looks back to the toast, to the archives, to make sure. When she looks back, the overnight is gone, replaced with a cloaked and hooded figure watching her from within its shadows.
 
She frowns, for that wasn't there before, then looks back toward the kitchen again. There is now a dog curled up in front of the fireplace.
 
CLOAKED FIGURE
This isn't you.
</screenplay>
 
 
== Party info ==
 
Party:
 
* Ariel Sartorien (lunatic - mage/cleric/hunter)
* Ense Vardaman (deathdealer - cleric/hunter)
 
* Coraline Henderson (librarian - mage/sniper)
* Lord Alores Severin Devres Agustine duSante Zaeres (mage)
 
* Fuller Taeth (mercenary - warrior)
* Aeryin Vals (guardian - cleric/warrior)
 
* Myrr (angel - cleric)
 
 
 
Conversation handling:
 
* Ariel: Atrocious, something about being nuts, tends to say all the wrong things if she's even paying attention at all
* Vardaman: Good, but tends to say too much when drunk (and is usually drunk), also very jaded
* Coraline: Decent, but clueless about the world and later drunk
* Zaeres: Excellent right up until the point where he loses interest
* Fuller: Questionable, though good at yelling/threatening
* Aeryin: Decent, in the sense that she's actually sane and capable of carrying on a conversation
* Myrr: Terrible, serious communication barriers
 
In the game, Fuller is listed as the party leader. So long as his wife is with him, he's not really the party leader. (Though here the leader proper would be Coraline.)<br>
Vardaman or Aeryin often take point in anything involving talking to people, unless Ariel says something stupid first. She usually does.
 
 
Fights:
 
* Ariel: *pokes it with a stick*
* Vardaman: "Ugh, not again."
* Coraline: *shoots it*
* Zaeres: "I'll just stand over here and see what happens."
* Fuller: "Attack everything! Attack!"
* Aeryin: "Take point. I've got your back."
* Myrr: "Is this our concern?"
 
 
Why don't Vardaman and Zaeres have any problems with each other? Deathdealers do not tolerate vampires, nor any undead, but especially vampires... not that Vardaman is at all typical of a deathdealer.
 
Fuller and Aeryin are married. It makes as little sense to them as to anyone else, and yet it works. Potentially too well at times - when you see them in battle it all falls into place.
 
 
Gods:
 
* Ariel: Eapherod ("Is the Dreamer a god? I thought she was just a voice in my head.")
* Vardaman: Kyrule ("Don't get me started on gods. Don't even.")
* Coraline: n/a (*mutters something about foot fungus*)
* Zaeres: n/a ("I make my own divinity.")
* Fuller: Orin ("Huh?")
* Aeryin: Orin ("What about them?")
* Myrr: Kyrule ("I serve Kyrule, and act as his will upon the world.")
 
 
Alignments:
 
* Ariel: Chaotic neutral (She's insane, but not necessarily good or evil. Just insane.)
* Vardaman: Lawful neutral (The world is harsh. And so is he.)
* Coraline: Neutral (Lawful about some things, chaotic about others. She generally means well, but her logical approach to overall problems often leads her to do things that others would consider to be quite cruel.)
* Zaeres: Lawful evil (Usually a decent guy to be around unless you manage to tick him off. Won't help at all unless he likes you, though.)
* Fuller: Neutral evil (He really likes to attack things. Doesn't have very good manners. Not sadistic or cruel, though, just belligerent.)
* Aeryin: Neutral good (Too practical to be considered lawful in practice, though she usually leans toward it. Finds Fuller's antics to be more funny than anything else.)
* Myrr: Lawful good (She's an angel and the right hand (or possibly wing) of a lawful deity.)


== TOC ==
{{survivors song nav|footer|next=This/Survivors song/Part 1|title=Introduction}}
__TOC__

Latest revision as of 03:33, 24 April 2017



Lace mask.svg
Survivor's Song: Introduction

(heaps: heapheap2heap3)
Part 0Part 1Part 2Part 3Part 4Part 5Part 6Part 7 • ...

MIDNIGHT... BUT NOT
After. The Void. The Nothing. The universe of Arling Tor has been destroyed. Only sphinxes remain, 3.8 billion winged cat creatures, hungry, immortal, lost. They barely move, lingering, hovering, balling together, forming a nearly solid moon-sized sphere of roiling cat matter. They do not hurtle.
Gaze, sweetling, upon the sheer impossibility.
Instantiate. The centre of the sphere. A pocket, not of air, but of space. In it are two humans, or at least entities who had once been human. Bertram is in grey, dark and concealing, unchanged from his ancient role of Voice. Coraline is in blue, light and summery. They are the same. They are nothing alike. Together, they form something else entirely, but not. She is no longer the Hand.
Cat eyes stare at them from all sides. Cat noses crinkle. Cat butts flash.
They speak over the purring, too loud to hear, but to their ears, meaningless. "Good job," Bertram says.
A sphinx drops onto Coraline's head, seemingly unplanned, but impeccable, draping itself over her face like a deep cowl. Its eyes supersede her own. Together, they look like Batman, and together they glare at him unimpressedly.
"Really, I'm impressed," Bertram goes on. "I did not expect that when we destroyed the entire universe, this would happen."

Part 0: Present introductions

In the year 2028, by the Cerrisian calendar, the crown of Soravia fell, sending the kingdom into chaos and turmoil. Years pass. The ruling Houses struggle for power and influence, making alliances and sending their armies to march and engage in terrible battles. The devastation only spreads, with no end in sight.

But Soravia is large, and many areas remain almost unaffected.

But Soravia is small, and there is no escape within its shores.

Notes:

  1. Coraline is a librarian.
  2. The story is always told from perspective. Translations are built in, even gestures.
  3. A 'universe' is an artificial construct.
  4. Notes may provide context, but not meaning.
  5. Coraline Henderson is dead.
  6. Sisu.

Narrow Escape

EXT. Country road; Soravian wilderness - afternoon
A small Finnish woman with light brown hair, Coraline, is fleeing unseen hunters. She's in the autumn woods, leaves blowing down around her, sprites dancing in their trails. There's a road, though she cannot quite seem to decide whether to avoid it or stick to it. Behind her, the sound of horses and dogs and shouting men gains imminence. Slung across her back is an ornate golden staff with a large, stylised phoenix built into its end, with wings outstretched.
There is another chatter of voices, too, somewhere else, getting louder, but these are unfocused, uninterested, all around.
Everything has failed her. She is desperate, and has little hope, but still she runs, finally making up her mind to stick to the road, sprinting down its dirt pack with everything she has left, breathing hard, in and out, in and out. Every stride jolts through her bones.
She can feel her strength failing, but she tells herself, at each of the road markers, get to the next, get to the next, get to the next.
She doesn't stop.
Even as she unwillingly slows, and the world darkens, she does not stop.
Even as the dogs make the road, even as the horses clatter into hearing, even as the shouts become clear, she does not stop.


EXT. Soravian town - evening
It is earlier, a few days, still autumn. The town is full of soldiers, hanging around the bars, loitering on the streets, tenting on the outskirts. It is not quite an occupation, but almost.
Coraline hurries through, avoiding them but not. She needs a place to stay, food to eat.
She heads into an inn.


INT. Some inn - evening
It's crowded inside, more so than out, and smokey, and noisy, full of ash demons hovering about the ceiling supports.
Coraline heads over to the bar and finds the INNKEEPER.
CORALINE
Hey.
INNKEEPER
Get you something?
CORALINE
Meal and some vodka for the road... and I don't suppose there's any chance of a place to stay?
The innkeeper looks at her, surprised.
INNKEEPER
We're booked, obviously, but... you're travelling alone?
CORALINE
Yeah...
INNKEEPER
Hold on.
(he yells over his shoulder, toward the kitchen)
Gemma!
(he heads back, continuing)
Gemma, got a question...
He shuffles into the back room, leaving Coraline at the bar. Other bartenders bustle around in his stead.
Coraline looks around.
It's mostly soldiers in here, too. Their insignias are one of the noble houses. One of them squeezes past Coraline to talk to another guy at the bar, and she steps aside.
SOLDIER ANDRE
Hey, check this out.
Andre pulls out a small soulstone and sets it on the bar. It's perfectly black.
The other guy, ROB, reaches out to pick it up, but then recoils from the touch.
SOLDIER ROB
Agh, what is that?
SOLDIER ANDRE
Black soulstone. Was talking to the Deathdealer, and he gave it to me. You can use them to detect Carriers even before they turn...
Coraline is holding the soulstone in her hand, staring at it in utter fascination. Her eyes have gone completely black. The voices around her have risen to a roar in her head, drowning everything else out in black, even as the stone forms an impossible brightness in her mind. It's perfect. Safe. Necessary. Needed.
The voices rise to a scream.
The floor drops away beneath her, swirling in green.
A moment later, everything is normal again. Coraline is still holding the stone, her knuckles white. The inn's loudness is nothing more than the chatter of dozens of men all crammed inside one common space. Rob and Andre are staring at her.
Coraline forces herself to drop the stone and flees in utter terror, pushing into the crowd, darting through the tables, out onto the open street. Nobody really tries to stop her, not really knowing what's going on.
The stone bounces off the floor, once, and then stops, sitting still on the ground, gleaming.
SOLDIER ROB
What, does that mean...
Andre leans down and picks up the soulstone.
SOLDIER ANDRE
She was a Carrier. The Death of Souls.
The two soldiers exchange glances and hurry out after her.
The innkeeper comes over a moment later.
INNKEEPER
Yeah, my wife thinks we can...
(he realises Coraline's not there anymore)
Where'd she go?


EXT. Soravian town - night
Coraline walks quickly, trying not to draw attention, but still hurrying as much as she can as she squiggles down the cluttered streets, holding her staff low, looking around for anything to help, any way out.
She spots some horses, and manages to get over to them without anyone really noticing, and soon she's properly off, keeping the horse at a trot, whispering to it to be calm.


EXT. Clearing - morning
A few days have passed. Coraline is slowing now, letting the horse longer to rest, walking more along with it. She lets it graze now, as she lies down in the grass, staring up into the red-orange trees and bright blue sky above. There has been no sign of pursuit.
Clouds drift across the blue.
The wind shifts. The horse smells something, its nostrils twitching, ears following. Faint sounds drift in from the way they came. Clatter. Barking.
Dogs.
Coraline jumps up quickly, readjusts the tack, and mounts, hurrying the horse back into a trot.
She hurries now, pushing the horse harder than before, forcing herself to slow only from time to time, dismounting and walking quickly beside it. They pass through the woods covering good ground, vaguely downhill.
The horse slows further, stiffening, no longer getting up to speed, as the day goes on, and into the night, and morning.
The first time it trips, she heals it, placing a hand to the hurt leg and letting it mend, even as the voices rise around her.
The second time, she abandons it, continuing only on foot.


EXT. Country road - afternoon
Coraline is about to fall. She has been running too long. The rhythm in her stride is breaking down, her arms and legs no longer rising as they should. She is like the horse, but worse. She has less to trip over, though the road only barely stays beneath her feet as the trees around bounce crazily in her periphery.
The pursuers are all but drowned out by the voices.
It was a good go. A solid fight. She knows this. She accepts it.
She slows, and stops. Exhaustedly, she turns back the way she came, pulling her staff off over her head, planting her feet, fighting her trembling arms. She points it vaguely, levelling it back down the road, and waits.
Someone nudges her elbow, lightly, insistently. A young boy, NOLAN (8), is next to her.
Nolan takes her arm and pulls at her, unrelentingly, toward the side of the road, before wordlessly shoving her off down a side path.
Then he turns back toward the road, just as the pursuers round the bend, and steps toward them. They slow as they approach.
The dogs avoid Nolan entirely, shying away, stopping. They do not seem to like him at all.
The DEATHDEALER leading the group addresses Nolan.
DEATHDEALER
Where is she?
NOLAN
Who?
DEATHDEALER
The woman.
Nolan stares at the Deathdealer blankly.
DEATHDEALER
Have you seen her?
NOLAN
No.
DEATHDEALER
Nobody has come this way?
NOLAN
You should have sheep. Show me to your sheep.
The Deathdealer reins his horse away, looking down the road.
SOLDIER
What?
NOLAN
Those are sheep dogs.
SOLDIER
Dammit, kid, this is serious!
They hurry on around Nolan, continuing on.
As the clatter and barking dies down again, Nolan turns back down the path to the temple.


INT. Molstead temple - evening
Coraline opens the door slowly, peering inside, then stumbling in as the heavy door closes behind her.
The temple is still, lit dimly with late sunlight trickling in through some of the high windows and candles at the shrines to the many gods around the walls. At the far end, facing the door and the other shrines, is a single large STATUE OF AZORRES, who looks nothing like Ganesha, looking down on the space.
Some offerings are laid out at its base.
CORALINE
(quietly)
Hello?
STATUE OF AZORRES
Welcome, wayfarer, to this house of the gods. You have need of sanctuary, I suspect.
CORALINE
Yes, gods... yes. Are you Ganesha?
STATUE OF AZORRES
You will be safe here. My priests will provide a place to rest.
CORALINE
But the soldiers... they won't give up. They know what I am.
STATUE OF AZORRES
They will not take you from this house.
Two priests, DAVIS and CORMITH, come over and help Coraline toward one of the back doors.
CORMITH
Here, come with us.
DAVIS
We'll keep you hidden until they leave. It'll be fine. I'm Davis, and this is Cormith.
CORALINE
Lyra. Lyra Zidane.
DAVIS
All right, Lyra. You're among friends now.


INT. Molstead temple - night
The main room is empty now, aside from Nolan, who is lingering by one of the shrines, looking strangely at home.
The Deathdealer and some of the soldiers enter the temple. They pass Nolan by, not paying him heed.
DEATHDEALER
(approaching the statue purposefully)
Where is she, statue?
STATUE OF AZORRES
Who, dear Deathdealer?
DEATHDEALER
You know exactly who I mean. We have covered the village. This is the only place she could be. Where is she hiding?
STATUE OF AZORRES
And what do you intend to do should you find her?
DEATHDEALER
You know that too.
STATUE OF AZORRES
And you should know that no aspect of Azorres would ever aid you toward that end.
DEATHDEALER
She is a Carrier of the Death of Souls! She may look like a person now, but she is cursed, and you know what will happen if she goes free and finishes her transformation. That woman will break down into a mindless monster, devouring and destroying all souls in her path, and the curse will only spread.
Surely you must see reason. She must be destroyed, now, before it is too late.
STATUE OF AZORRES
She is under my protection.
DEATHDEALER
(starting toward the back door)
I will find her. I will dismantle you piece by piece if I must.
The statue's voice changes, becoming larger, stranger.
STATUE OF AZORRES
(quietly)
You would threaten a god in his own temple?
NOLAN
I think you should leave now.
The Deathdealer turns to regard Nolan.
NOLAN
(stepping out of the shadows)
Unless you wish to lose both life and soul in one slow, agonising process.
DEATHDEALER
Really?
NOLAN
Do you intend to try me, little man?
The Deathdealer (who is decidedly not little) and soldiers stare at Nolan.
Nolan stares impassively back, not blinking.
DEATHDEALER
You will be witnessed.
NOLAN
Okay.
The Deathdealer nods at the soldiers, and they all leave.
Nolan tilts his head slightly.
The Deathdealer draws his sword. On its blade, by the hilt, is a dark emblem of a skull and mask.
Nolan doesn't move.
STATUE OF AZORRES
Theramon sa Tgomi, stand down. If you will not listen to me, then listen to Kyrule, your own god, who has given me your name as proof. Stand down, and let this matter go. This Carrier you seek does not concern you.
The Deathdealer stops and relaxes, turning to regard the statue in surprise.
DEATHDEALER
I... understand. I will obey.
STATUE OF AZORRES
Tell your men she is dead, the matter handled before you even came. This is over.
The Deathdealer bows shakily and then very hastily leaves.
After, Nolan strolls over to the statue looking almost curious.
NOLAN
Interesting.
STATUE OF AZORRES
Very.

A day in the life

INT. Molstead Inn - morning
Coraline Dreams.
In the dream, you are running, fleeing. The sky hangs grey and low. The ground is dull and rocky, simply there. The wind is furtive and blustery, coming in wet bursts, whistling in the trees' leaves. It's going to rain.
A noise trickles out of the wet, a hint of warmth drifting around you. Trolls. They are hunting you. They have always been hunting you, and you don't remember any point in which they haven't been hunting you, and now they are getting closer. Dull leaves shift underfoot, muffling you footfalls, but it doesn't matter.
You trip. You fall. You are down, underground. A passage, a tall shaft above, open to the sky, shows little light from so far. The first raindrops fall wet and heavy, but only from time to time, only on one side, thrown by the wind above.
Down here, though, the walls are already wet. Seeping moisture hints at life within the ground, of strangeness, of alien forces silently at work, always changing. You cannot linger. You have to run. So you do, and the walls run with you. You run, and the walls change, widening the corridor, opening out into a grand cavern. Further on, jagged rock gives way to strange formations, pillars and columns, almost too precise, but right here, in front of you, is a car, some ancient Soviet model, poking its hood from the wall. It grins at you, all bumper and headlights, and says, "Whaddya know about that?"
"I'm sorry," you tell the car, "But I can't stop. I need to keep moving. The moment I stop, everything goes horribly wrong and the trolls find me, so I need to keep moving, okay?"
"I won't ask him," the car replies, withdrawing back into the wall.
That's good enough. But then you realise you're stopped.
The dream falls away.


The inn is a rustic preindustrial affair, wood and stone, but with glass panes and reasonably straight edges to its architecture. Coraline is sprawled on her bed in a back room. Her hair is a silvery white-blonde now, and considerably longer. A fluffy tortoiseshell CAT is on her face.
A bell is mounted on the wall nearby, attached to a contrapture leading back into the main room. A bottle of brandy is on her bedside table. Her phoenix staff is leaning against the wall, wings now folded. Books are piled up on shelves.
The voices are a disorganised chatter, roaring in the background.
Coraline shoves the cat off her head and then sits up, eyeing the cat confusedly.
The cat slides onto another pillow. There are a lot of pillows.
CORALINE
Mwaaagh?
The cat purrs.
CORALINE
Perkele. You're not one of mine. Who the crap are you, cat, and what are you doing in my bed?
The cat doesn't respond.
Coraline gets up and grabs the brandy, drinking some straight out of the bottle, and the voices die down to a murmur. Then she pulls on some proper clothes and heads into the kitchen.
The kitchen is empty, the stove cold. A few ash demons are floating over the wood, like little puffs of ash.
Coraline shoos the ash demons aside and grabs a chunk of bread.
CORALINE
Jess? Hello? Anyone here?
Another cat, THIMBLE, is sprawled at the base of the step into the tavern proper looking very angry, and Coraline steps over him without even paying attention.
The tavern proper is almost completely empty, the floor swept, the tables stacked (aside from one missing a leg and nailed to the ceiling as a rather peculiar hazard). The shutters are open, sunlight streaming in.
An ELVEN TOURIST is seated primly at the bar, patiently waiting.
Coraline hurries over to the elf and give him an uncertain look.
The elf eyes her curiously.
CORALINE
Uh, how long have you been waiting?
ELVEN TOURIST
Oh, not long, an hour or two.
CORALINE
Riiight. Sorry. Day gal should have been here, but apparently isn't...
Coraline heads back into the store room, and is back a moment later with a small cloth package in hand. She cuts off the ribbon and passes it to the elf.
ELVEN TOURIST
(opening the package)
Your day gal, does this happen often?
CORALINE
Not at all. But if it does, and there's noone here, just ring the bell to get me, will you? That's what it's for.
The elf pulls out a weird piece of bread, sniffs it deeply, and smiles serenely, closing his eyes.
CORALINE
I'ma go see if I can find her. Need anything else before I go?
The elf starts nibbling at the bread and shakes his head very slightly.
CORALINE
Right.
The tortoiseshell pads over as Coraline moves to head out, and she picks up the cat and hefts her at the elf.
CORALINE
Is this your cat?
The elf turns to look, and then shakes his head again, again very slightly.


EXT. Molstead - morning
It's a bright summer morning. The sky is mostly clear. Loud birds are everywhere, on the buildings, in the trees, being loud. Some townsfolk are out and about, doing townsfolk things.
Coraline holds up the cat like a sack of potatoes.
CORALINE
(to the cat)
Any of this yours? Hmm?
The cat hangs limply in her hands. This is decidedly un-catlike, and yet at the same time, incredibly catlike.
CORALINE
(irritably)
Great. Do you see Jess anywhere? She should be here by now.
CAT
Who?
Coraline lowers the cat and eyes her suspiciously, but then decides not to press the matter.


EXT. Molstead market square - slightly later morning
The market is a messy combination of open square with stalls and buildings around with shops, with folks pitching and buying and just passing through in a horrible mish-mash. The folks are mostly human, but a few elves and stuff are mixed in.
Coraline is still holding the cat, and now has a small HAMSTERY GUY following her very, very closely repeatedly asking her what day it is. She attempts to ignore him.
HAMSTERY GUY
What day is it?
The hamstery guy circles around to follow her from the other side, except now he's actually slightly in front of her.
Coraline attempts to refrain from punching him in the face with a cat.
HAMSTERY GUY
What day is it?
A blacksmith, BARNEY, spots Coraline from near the smithy and scoots over, holding a scabbarded sword, just as Coraline is about to shove the cat claws-first into the hamstery guy's face.
BARNEY
Lyra! I've got this sword. You know I've got this sword. It's got your name written all over it, and for the absolute steal of a price of five silver it's all yours, all yours!
He holds the sword up in her face.
CORALINE
(pushing the sword away with the cat)
Now, look, I really don't...
She's interrupted by the hamstery guy pushing Barney aside and getting in her face.
HAMSTERY GUY
What day is it?
CAT
(hissing)
The day you die.
The cat slides out of Coraline's hands and settles around her shoulders, instead.
Barney pulls the hamstery guy aside again in order to reclaim his rightful place in Coraline's face. The hamstery guy attempts to retaliate, and Barney elbows him in the throat.
Foiled, the hamstery guy sidles off to bother someone else.
BARNEY
Five silver. Once in a lifetime deal. Just five, and it's all yours!
Coraline glares at him with the full force of Finnish Death.
Barney smiles at her disarmingly.
CORALINE
If I wanted to buy a sword, I would have commissioned one and you know it.
Barney gives her his best crestfallen look. Coraline continues to glare at him.
The cat watches curiously from Coraline's shoulders.
BARNEY
(breaking into a wide smile)
Fine, take it as a gift, then. Made for you, perfectly balanced, utter steal!
Barney bustles around her and fastens the sword to her belt, then hops back and nods.
Coraline continues to glare at where he was for a moment, and then just looks confused.
CORALINE
What?
BARNEY
Aye, yes, that's the look. Utterly dashing, the lady wizard.
Before Coraline can respond, Barney backs away entirely with a weird swagger, not unlike that of a used car salesman, still nodding, and retreats back into a bunch of passersby.
CORALINE
What... just happened?
Her hand falls to the sword, which has somehow been added very neatly with another belt opposite her bag.
CAT
You got yourself a sword.
CORALINE
Thank you, Captain Obvious. You're real helpful, aren't you?
CAT
Meh.
Coraline heads over to some various folk to ask around about Jess, though nothing really comes of it. She buys some lunch while she's at it.
After, she heads off down the road.


EXT. Molstead road - late morning
CORALINE
All right, cat, what's your deal, anwyay?
CAT
Obviously I'm a cat.
CORALINE
One that speaks. And has a sense of sarcasm.
The cat doesn't respond.
CORALINE
Why show up out of the blue? You even planning to stick around? Or are you some kind of alien or something trying to suck out my brain juices?
CAT
I'm a witch's cat. I needed a witch, and you seemed witchy.
CORALINE
What, did something happen to your old witch?
The cat purrs.
CORALINE
You got a name, then?
The cat purrs some more.
CORALINE
Cat, I got five cats already and I call them all 'cat', so please, something a bit more specific would be nice.
The cat stretches out a leg and sticks a claw up Coraline's nose.
CAT
Maybe.
CORALINE
(removing the cat paw from her face)
Maybe?
CAT
I'm Agata.
CORALINE
Agata. Okay. Good. Do I look like a witch to you?
CAT
(purring)
They all think you're a wizard. It's the same thing, really.
CORALINE
(she sighs)
They also think I'm from Ord.


EXT. Eslinger farm - noonish
Coraline comes up the road to find one of Jess's sisters, TEMMIE, mending the fence. Temmie stops and waves upon seeing Coraline.
The voices are getting louder again now, but Coraline just ignores them.
The cat, AGATA, trots over and rubs against Temmie's legs.
TEMMIE
What brings you these ways?
CORALINE
Hey Temmie. Was Jess coming to work today?
TEMMIE
Oh, aye. She left same as usual, hours back. Why?
(confused)
Did she not... Lyra?
CORALINE
She was here and then she left?
TEMMIE
Er, yes.
CORALINE
Right. So clearly something happened between here and there and there and... I need a new brain.
Coraline turns and leaves without saying anything more, and Agata pounces after her.
TEMMIE
Hey, hey, wait!


INT. Molstead Temple - noonish
Coraline pulls the doors open rather forcefully, causing them to swing open to either side of her while she stands there dramatically. There is no sign of Jess.
Agata ambles inside and sits down in front of the main large statue of Azorres, peering up at it.
Coraline hops inside right as the doors are swinging closed again and nearly gets hit in the foot by one of them, and scoots up behind the cat.
Agata swishes her tail.
CORALINE
(getting out a bottle of vodka)
Hey statue.
STATUE OF AZORRES
Welcome back, wayfarer. How are you holding up?
CORALINE
Miserably. Like a miser. I'm miser-able.
STATUE OF AZORRES
It is a difficult burden you carry.
CORALINE
What else am I going to do with it, drop it?
(she takes a drink)
So I'm looking for Jess. She went missing somewhere between her parents' farm and actually showing up to work. Where would I be looking if I were looking where I ought to be looking?
STATUE OF AZORRES
You have your answer there. Follow the path between farm and town, and perhaps the clues will reveal themselves.
Coraline nods, but doesn't go, holding the bottle like a shield.
Agata peers up at her curiously.
CORALINE
(quietly)
And if I'm dying... what would I be doing to stop?
STATUE OF AZORRES
You're getting worse.
CORALINE
It's slight, but I can feel myself slipping more and more. I thought if I didn't use magic, maybe I'd be okay. It'd stop. But it's winning. Slowly it's winning.
STATUE OF AZORRES
Four thousand years and there has been no cure to the Death of Souls. You know it will not simply go away.
CORALINE
But what can I do?
STATUE OF AZORRES
Find Jess. One problem at a time.
AGATA
You're oddly intelligent, for a statue.
STATUE OF AZORRES
I will take that as a compliment, little one.
CORALINE
Cat, after some of the people I've dealt with, I'd say it's oddly intelligent for anything, really.
AGATA
I thought you were going to quit calling me 'cat'.
CORALINE
Dammit cat, I call all my cats 'cat'.
Agata peers up at Coraline imperiously.
Coraline narrows her eyes.
CORALINE
Sassmaster.
Agata closes her eyes contentedly.
Coraline scoops up Agata.
CORALINE
And seriously, thanks, statue. You're a wonderful replacement for a working brain.


EXT. Molstead outskirts - noonish
Coraline strolls back down the road with all the care of an angry zamboni, Agata padding ahead, oppressive heat and sunlight bearing down on the both of them. Some mushroom sprites bounce alongside the road, keeping pace until one of them suddenly bursts into flame, and the others scatter. Heat waves rise off the road. Bugs buzz in the trees.
Coraline is now much more drunk, and the voices practically silent, drowned out by the resulting fuzziness.
She stops at a bend and sights down a footpath heading into the trees through the mostly-empty bottle, using it like a telescope with the lid off, which is completely ineffective as she cannot actually see anything through the bottom. Some of the remaining vodka splashes on her face. She blinks, and dumps the rest on her head.
CORALINE
Damn. Alcohol is lovely in this heat.
AGATA
Smooth.
CORALINE
(indicating the trail)
There's some ruins out this way. Maybe... I dunno.
AGATA
Do you have any leads at all?
CORALINE
None whatsoever.
AGATA
Do you have anywhere you need to be?
CORALINE
Nope.
AGATA
Well.
CORALINE
Right.
They head down the path.


EXT. Elven ruins - early afternoon
The ruins are a large quasi-clearing in the woods, the only remainder of an ancient elven city. Mostly the white stone blocks and columns lie scattered throughout the ferns and grass, trees growing through and over them, with only the odd wall or pillar rising against the green, clusters of buildings now almost totally reclaimed by the forest. Only one building stands out as intact - a solitary Edifice, still sealed after all these centuries, and nearly untouched by storm or moss.
Coraline comes out on the path, looks around, climbs onto a particularly large white block, and glares out over the ruins.
An alarming amount of spider webs glare back at her from some of the trees on the far end.
CORALINE
(squinting unhelpfully)
...gogs?
A beige and gloopy PORRIDGE gloops past Agata on the ground, and she hisses at it.
Coraline hops down and heads over into the webby trees.


INT. Gog tunnels - afternoon
It's webby, and a bit messy. There's no real path at first, but then one seems to grow almost organically out of bits of web.
As Coraline and Agata progress, the webs get thicker.
At one point she sees a gog hanging off a bunch of webbing on a tree. It looks a bit like a large dog-sized spider, and appears to be asleep.
At another, she passes a tree with a large circular hole cut exactingly through the trunk, except the hole is almost as big as the trunk is, and the top of the tree is held up almost entirely by webbing. Through the hole is shoved a door.
She continues on, and the webs thicken. The trees are swathed in webbing, until everything is covered.
Ahead, the webs converge entirely, leaving only a single round tunnel, maybe a metre in diameter. At its entrance are two more gogs, also asleep.
Agata hops up onto Coraline's shoulders.
Coraline walks up and pokes one of them.
The poked gog startles and legs at the other gog, which also startles and legs back. They prod at each other a bit with legs and then slow, and then stop. After a moment they collapse back onto each other, vibrating.
Coraline scoots past them carefully into the hole and walk-crawls very awkwardly through it.
AGATA
(next to Coraline's ear)
I hope you know what you're doing.
CORALINE
I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing, or what's going on. Gogs aren't... this isn't what they do.
AGATA
Looks like they did.
CORALINE
Mostly they're just an annoyance. Steal some sheep. Web over a door. That sort of thing.
AGATA
Mostly?
The tunnel abruptly ends, and Coraline spills out into an oddly circular chamber, completely bound in spun white webbing. The ceiling glows with diffused light. A couple of other circular tunnels are scattered about the walls. A weird sweet, sticky smell permeates the space.
It is completely empty, aside from the centre. In the centre is a solitary wooden door, standing upright without a frame or even hinges. It is in perfect shape. It has a knob.
Coraline stares at it blankly for a moment.
CORALINE
I don't even want to know.
She scoots very carefully around the edge of the chamber, keeping her back to the wall, watching the door carefully until she gets to the next tunnel.
AGATA
And yet you're continuing.
Coraline gives the door one last worried look before scooting into the new tunnel and hurrying away.


EXT. Gog clearing - afternoon
This tunnel opens up into a clearing that is much less webbed over, with only odd swaths netting down from branches, and a decent carpet underfoot. Old trees tower overhead. Afternoon sun trickles down in motes of dust. It is surprisingly cool.
Coraline is sobering up a bit as they come out, but the voices are still quiet.
Gogs are all over, mostly in groups of 3-10. The nearest group are gathered around a bunch of doors, all fairly beaten up. One of the gogs pokes a door with a stick, then drops the stick and starts jumping on the door in aggravation. Another pulls a door upright and then, along with two others, headbutts it.
Coraline watches curiously for a moment.
CORALINE
You know you need hinges, right?
The gogs all freeze exactly where they are: the ones with the doors, quite a few others just hanging out in the clearing, a large group doing some sort of choreographed march around the perimeter, and also a smaller group holding up paper signs around a very confused looking JESS.
A few of the gogs in the paper signs group are also holding sticks. One appears to have been in the process of poking Jess with its stick, but is frozen mid-poke.
JESS
(also not moving)
Lyra?
Coraline threads her way through the groups of gogs, trying not to run into too many, but they don't respond even when she does.
CORALINE
You okay? Kind of need you at the inn. We do have elves.
JESS
Um... yeah, mostly, I guess?
Jess pushes aside the stick uncertainly, and then pushes through the sign-gogs. The signs say things like 'door problem' and 'what knob' and 'show force??', and they are all very consistently upside down. She hurries over to Coraline and collapses into the older woman's arms, sobbing.
CORALINE
(patting Jess awkwardly on the shoulder a couple of times)
There, uh, there?
Jess takes a few minutes to calm down, during which Coraline slowly pulls/nudges her toward the edge of the clearing. In the meantime, the gogs around appear to do absolutely nothing.
JESS
They kept poking me. They seemed to really want me to help them with their doors. Except they couldn't explain very well. They just have signs and broken doors everywhere, and then they ran out of paper, and I don't even know. Lyra, what is going on?
CORALINE
They wanted help with the doors, apparently.
Coraline looks around at the motionless gogs. There seem to be fewer now.
CORALINE
We should probably get out of here. If they let us.
JESS
What did you do?
CORALINE
Uh...
AGATA
She mentioned hinges.
A nearby gog collapses.
Jess jumps, and winds up behind Coraline, clinging to her shoulder.
Coraline turns around, pulling Jess with her.
All the gogs that had been behind them are gone.
JESS
What? They're... They're...
CORALINE
Meh.
Coraline marches off into the woods in what she hopes is the general direction of the ruins, or at least town, and Jess follows closely, not letting go of Coraline's sleeve.


EXT. Molstead woods - afternoon
Coraline and Jess get back out into the open woods without too much trouble, but an odd stillness follows them. A disquieting quiet.
Coraline grumbles irritably and draws her sword, and Agata climbs around onto the opposite shoulder for a better perch. The name 'Lyra Zidane' is written down the blade in flowing patterns, with engraved leaves dancing out around it. The whole design comes across in surprisingly good taste.
JESS
What is it?
CORALINE
I don't want to alarm you, but I think we're being followed.
A bush shudders nearby.
CORALINE
Definitely being followed.
JESS
Run?
CORALINE
We don't even know who it is. Maybe it's someone who could tell us which way to run.
JESS
What?
AGATA
She means to say we're lost.
CORALINE
I would never say that. But if I would, well, yeah. We're lost.
(loudly)
Hello we need directions can you help us?
The trees rustle overhead, and leaves drift down.
A scuttling skitters in the underbrush around, over the hillocks, behind the trees.
The first few gogs appear, running toward them, and then gogs are pouring in from every direction, over the ground, covering it. The trees shake, and more gogs come down those, from all sides, all around, converging on Coraline and Jess.
Jess clings to Coraline.
The nearest gog bites at Coraline, and she stabs at it with the sword.
The gog bites at the sword instead, to no effect. The other gogs all just sort of stop.
Confused, the gog bites at it again, but this has no more effect than the first time.
The gog hops backwards several metres, and then all the other gogs start converging on it, streaming around the two women, grouping, building a heap, piling up, and up, and up, until they have all just sort of conglomerated into a big, quivering conglomerate.
A gog tumbles off the side and rolls away, only to scamper back to the pile and climb back on.
There is a very long, awkward pause as gog pile and humans face off. Coraline looks a bit creeped out. Jess just looks terrified, clinging to her.
Then Coraline lowers her sword very suddenly. Jess jumps.
CORALINE
Damn arm was getting tired.
(to the gog pile)
Hi. Gogs. Or whatever you call yourselves. Can you tell us which way to town?
There is a shuddering in the pile, and then one of the gogs in front hops forward slightly and pulls a stack of paper out of somewhere unspeakable.
It makes and holds up a sign. It reads, 'door problem'.
CORALINE
Really? We hadn't noticed.
The gog drops the paper and scribbles on another one, 'cannot into'.
CORALINE
(shaking her head)
No, this is not polandball.
This goes on for a bit, but it eventually unfolds, amidst many signs and drinks, that the door problem, specifically, is that the gogs cannot figure them out. As a result, the gogs have become obsessed with doors, stuck on how to get them open, how to get past them. So they kidnap humans, learn their language and how to write things down on paper to communicate, trying to get the humans to teach them how to door. But it doesn't work. The humans don't know what they mean, and then the gogs run out of paper. So then they need to break into humans' nests again, this time to get more paper. Except they can't, because doors are in the way, and they still can't get past them. They don't have the right appendages to use the knobs. They don't have the mass to just tear them off their hinges. Covering them with webbing does nothing. So they use other means. Throw Keith in through windows when they can. Tear the thatch off roofs and drop in when they can.
But inside are also doors.
CORALINE
So... door problem.
The gog holds up the 'door problem' sign in agreement. Or possibly a new 'door problem' sign. There are a whole lot of signs on the ground now.
The pile also quivers in agreement, or something.
CORALINE
Right. I'm really not sure how to help you with this.
The gog holds up a sign that says 'open door'.
Coraline sighs.
CORALINE
Which one of you is Keith?
A gog pries its way out of the pile and holds up a sign. The sign says only, 'Keith'.
CORALINE
Hi, Keith. What are you after when you get inside a... human nest?
Keith holds up a sign that says 'paper'.
CORALINE
Because you need paper for your signs. Of course you do. Look, we need to get back to town, but we'll send some, erm... specialists out here when we do, okay? They might be able to actually do something about your door problem. Or whatever it is your problem really is.
Coraline strafes around the pile to the side, and the entire pile rotates to face her. She backs away, and the pile stays put, watching with many, many eyes.
CORALINE
Great. Could you by any chance point us in the direction of town? Human nest nests?
A gog pries itself out of the pile and holds up a sign: 'show'.
Coraline gestures for it to lead the way, and they follow it back to the road, and then town.


EXT. Molstead Inn - evening
Coraline and Jess get back to the inn in the late evening, Coraline now carrying a snoring Agata under one arm. It's pleasantly cool, and several patrons are hanging around outside with mugs. They greet the women as they approach, but then go silent as they notice the gog.
CORALINE
It's a gog.
PATRON
Um.
The gog holds up a sign. It says, 'gog'. It's unclear where this came from.
CORALINE
See?
The inn's door is propped open, and Coraline tries to shoo the gog in, but then it just stops and pokes at the door. And then the door prop. And then the door some more.
CORALINE
(ushering Jess inside instead)
Yeah, let's just leave it at that.
(to the patrons)
It's friendly. Don't do anything stupid.


INT. Molstead Inn - evening
Inside is fairly busy. Folks are all about, filling the tables, standing around, drinking. DORS, the orcan bouncer, is tending bar. He waves at Coraline and Jess cheerfully as they come in, baring too many teeth.
Another cat, ARGUMENT OF HAGS, yowls from a shelf in welcome.
CORALINE
Right, I think we need food. And then we need to get you home. You good to work tomorrow?
Jess nods.
Coraline pushes a very drunk guy off a barstool and he wanders off, oblivious. Then she plonks Jess down on the stool in his place, and dumps Agata in her lap.
CORALINE
Stay.
Dors pours Jess a drink.
DORS
I expect you've had a day. How about some poses?
Coraline heads to the kitchen to get some food, and grabs her staff while she's at it.
When she gets back, plates in hand, phoenix staff slung over a shoulder, a small crowd has gathered around one of the tables.
Dors is striking ridiculous poses at Jess.
Coraline deposits the plates by Jess and goes to investigate the crowd.
The gog is on the table. Several guys are attempting to give it beer.
The gog holds up a sign that says 'inside'.
GUY
Yeah, put the beer inside. You drink it. You getting this?
(to the others)
Am I saying this right?
ANOTHER GUY
Sure, look, it seems to get it.
The gog drinks some beer.
Coraline backs away very quickly, grabs her plate, and leaves the inn entirely.


INT. Keller's place - evening
Coraline shows up to Keller's place, still shovelling food in her face, and pounds on the door with an elbow. This doesn't entirely work, so she stops eating and uses her fist instead.
A moment later, KIT, Keller's apprentice (he's about 12), answers the door, peering up at her curiously.
KIT
Need something?
CORALINE
Got a job, if you're interested.
KIT
Yeah?
KELLER, dressed in stereotypical wizard robes, swoops the door open entirely before Coraline can respond.
KELLER
Miss Zidane! So good to see you again. Do come in, come in!
He ushers Kit out of the way, and Coraline inside.
Having lost access to Kit, Coraline comes inside.
Inside is rather messy. There is a stuffed moose hanging from the ceiling. Scrolls and notes are scattered across every surface. An entire wall is covered by something that looks like an elaborate chemistry experiment. Stacks of books line the other walls.
Coraline eyes the books curiously.
KELLER
So what brings you out this way this fine day, hmm?
Coraline takes another bite of her food, still eyeing the books.
KELLER
Ah, yes, I suppose I have amassed quite the collection over the years, haven't I? If there's anything you'd like to borrow, I suppose I could part... for a small fee.
Coraline painfully drags herself away from the idea of books and gets back to what she actually came here for.
CORALINE
I actually...
(she notices the moose)
Is that a moose?
KIT
Wondered that myself. Not a sheep, though. Nolan checked.
KELLER
It certainly is.
CORALINE
Why?
Kit shrugs.
KELLER
Oh, you know. You need the right space.
CORALINE
Right. I actually need to borrow your apprentice.
KELLER
(disappointedly)
But I have so much to give!
CORALINE
Unless you want to investigate a bunch of possibly insane gogs?
Keller stares at her for a moment.
KELLER
I've got research. Very important research that I must attend to.
CORALINE
Of course. I wouldn't mean to ask you to do anything beneath your station.
Keller hastily flounces off into another room.
Kit raises an eyebrow.
KIT
Insane gogs?
CORALINE
Well, maybe. There's a bunch of them out past the ruins, at least. Maybe you lot can figure out what the hells their problem really is?
Overtly, they're having problems with doors. And paper. The thing I'm really not clear on is why. They're communicative, though. Sort of. They use a lot of paper signs.
KIT
Sounds like you want Nolan.
CORALINE
Hey, if Nolan can translate gog signs, great. But you'll still need to translate Nolan, and you'll probably want to bring a sword with you just to be safer...
KIT
And I'm sure we can find a use for overloud shrieking.
Coraline shrugs.
CORALINE
Out of curiosity, what would Keller be likely to charge for some of those books?
KIT
More than they're worth. They're just manuals, and half of them are completely wrong.
CORALINE
Damn.
Kit pulls one out of a pile and hands it to Coraline.
KIT
Here, this one's a good starting kit. Just take it. He won't even notice.
CORALINE
Er, thanks.


EXT. Molstead - evening
Coraline escorts Jess home later, dropping off her plate at the inn and decidedly not investigating the gog table, which has an even bigger crowd now.
Outside, the voices are almost completely drowned out by the clatter of insects. Almost.
Jess is much calmer now. She glances toward Coraline periodically as they go as though about to say something, but then doesn't.
Coraline either doesn't notice or doesn't care.
Finally they get out of the town proper and onto the environs road through the woods.
JESS
I wish I could be like you. Nothing ever stops you, does it?
Coraline gives Jess a confused look.
JESS
I just froze. I had no idea what to do, but then you showed up... thank you. Thank you.
Coraline nods.
CORALINE
You want to do something, you just do... something. It won't always help, you won't always know what it will do, but if you know that doing nothing won't get you out, then try something else and figure out what will.
I used to do that too. Freeze. Not know what to do, hope it would blow over and just fix itself. Especially with people. But you get practice. You learn. You realise everything follows the same patterns, you learn how to test it and continue from there.
(quietly)
I still sometimes have no idea, though, and I put it off, don't deal with it. It just gets worse in the meantime.
JESS
You talked to the gog.
CORALINE
I talk to a lot of things. But it's often not a bad place to start.
For some reason they continue past the turn off to the Eslinger farm.
JESS
I'd like to stop at the temple first.
CORALINE
Sure.


INT. Molstead Temple - late evening
Davis is lighting candles at the shrines as Jess and Coraline enter.
Jess goes to a few of the shrines and does shriney things.
Coraline wanders over to bother Davis, standing right behind him.
CORALINE
Bother.
DAVIS
Oh, hello.
Davis looks at Coraline expectantly.
CORALINE
...that was really all I had to say.
Davis gives her an amused look and moves onto the next shrine, and Coraline follows. This one is to Kyrule, the god of death. It features a thick stone disk, with a skull wearing an elaborate filigree mask carved in relief.
CORALINE
Does it ever seem strange to honour a god who is such an antithesis to your own? Azorres is life and compassion, Kyrule death and judgement. On one hand you have the pain and struggle and solace of trying to survive at all, and the other... cold finality. The ultimate failure that awaits us all.
DAVIS
Where is the antithesis? These things go together perfectly, each giving meaning to the other.
CORALINE
But aren't they at odds? That very meaning comes from the opposition.
Davis remains silent as he finishes lighting the candles, and turns to face her when he's done.
DAVIS
This opposition is how they come together.
Azorres' compassion tempers Kyrule's blade. But where compassion fails, where order breaks and the hells would reign free across the lands, we need that blade and all the ruthlesseness that backs it. The world is a question of scales, balanced between all: life and death, order and chaos, needs and desires. The gods reflect this, each one a piece of the balance, and so we honour all.
CORALINE
I guess I just don't much care for some of them.
DAVIS
You don't need to care for something to see the value.
CORALINE
Value, yes, but...
She sighs.
DAVIS
You can't fully hold the god responsible for the actions of his followers.
CORALINE
They've been very consistent.
DAVIS
Do you blame them? Would you earnestly prefer they not try to contain...
(he glances over at Jess; more quietly)
This? Though their means are merciless, would you prefer it spread?
CORALINE
Gods, no.
DAVIS
I'm so sorry. I didn't mean...
CORALINE
Davis. It's okay. You're right.
DAVIS
Kyrule doesn't want you dead. If he did, you would be, despite all our efforts. Trust in that?
Coraline shakes her head, smiling confusedly.
Davis winces and goes onto the next shrine.
Coraline plods over to the statue.
STATUE OF AZORRES
Have you considered what you will do from here?
CORALINE
Not really, no.
Here's a question for you. Would it be wrong to turn an entire civilisation of a sentient species of spiders into raging alcoholics?
STATUE OF AZORRES
Yes.
CORALINE
Oh.
STATUE OF AZORRES
Were you really considering this?
CORALINE
Not particularly, but if I don't do something soon I might not be able to stop it, either.
STATUE OF AZORRES
There is a distinction between causing something and failing to stop it.
CORALINE
There's also a distinction of I live here and have to deal with the consequences, whether it had anything to do with me or not.
Jess comes over to the statue as well, kneeling before it.
STATUE OF AZORRES
Rise, dear child. You will always find solace here.
JESS
Thank you, my Lord. Thank you for watching over me.
(she puts a cake with the other offerings)
You sent Lyra for me, didn't you?
STATUE OF AZORRES
I did.
CORALINE
Normally I'd argue, but... yeah.
(to the statue)
Why didn't you just tell me where she was?
STATUE OF AZORRES
I did not know. A god may see their faithful as existing within the world, and know them how they are, but this comes with no precise knowledge of location or status. I knew that she was alive and in need. I heard her prayers and sent you the only direction that made sense.

Gog handling

INT. Molstead inn - morning
It is morning. Coraline is in bed again, happily asleep, this time with no cat on her face, but two cats next to her. A soft, polite dingling rings through the room, and then stops.
CORALINE
Nnnrgh.
The polite dingling of the bell contrapture repeats, and Coraline suddenly realises what it is, attempts to get up, and falls out of bed.
CORALINE
(yelling from the floor)
Coming, give me a moment!



A few minutes later, she grumps into the tavern proper holding a bottle of whiskey, mostly dressed, staff and sword under an arm, holding another cloth package, looking like a very angry videogame character. Several cats watch her from the bar as she enters: Thimble and Argument of Hags, as well as TRESS, SCOFFLE, and ONPAHANVAANLAMPI. Thimble looks particularly angry today.
The spare gog has cocooned itself on the hazard table sticking out of the ceiling. An argument is happening outside the main door.
The elf is again sitting at the bar, waiting primly.
Coraline puts down her whiskey, drops her weapons on the floor, cuts the ribbon on the package, and passes it over to the elf as before, this time muttering a particularly choice string of finnish profanities.
The elf pulls out a piece of bread, sniffs it deeply, and smiles serenely, closing his eyes.
Coraline grabs her weapons again and grumps over to the door and tries to open it.
Coraline tries to open the door again.
Behind her, the gog reaches out and holds a sign off the hanging table. The sign says, 'rote system'.
Coraline kicks the door, mostly out of sheer annoyance.
JESS
(yelling from outside)
Lyra? You in there?
CORALINE
(yelling back)
Yeah, what's wrong with the door and why aren't you in here?!
Agata pads over and peers up at the gog.
AGATA
It's called a hangover.
KIT
(also yelling from outside)
Gogs webbed it over! Hold on, I'll get it off.
CORALINE
Kit? What... voi paska.
KIT
(outside)
Wind fire burn!
There's a FWOOMPH outside, and a moment later, JORA, the kids' young elven sword-nanny, opens the door and peers inside, sword out.
Jora nods and sheaths the sword.
Nolan (now 11, though he's hardly grown in the meantime) and ERRY, Kit's little sister (8), are also there.
Jess heads inside and then stops, staring at the gog on the table.
CORALINE
Just... ignore it. I don't know.
The gog holds out a sign that says, 'hangover'. The sign is right-side-up for a change.
CORALINE
Get it some coffee maybe?
Jess gives Coraline a confused look.
Coraline shrugs blankly.
KIT
So. Gogs?
CORALINE
Gogs.
Coraline picks up Agata and hangs the cat around her neck like a very warm, stuffy, purring scarf.


EXT. Elven ruins - morning
Erry runs out into the ruins first and climbs up a particularly upright chunk of wall. Nolan climbs after her not long after.
Kit, Jora, and Coraline all walk in like normal people.
Agata walks in a bit behind them, peering about.
KIT
I think I see where the gogs are.
CORALINE
Yup.


INT. Gog tunnels - morning
The tunnels are empty. There is no sign of any gogs actually in the area.
Coraline and the kids come to the tree with the hole cut through the trunk, and the door shoved in it.
CORALINE
So they did that.
KIT
I don't get it. What possible purpose could that serve?
ERRY
They didn't get that something has to actually hold up the tree. Or maybe they did?
Coraline shrugs.
Jora stalks ahead, listening for something.
NOLAN
We're coming.
They continue on, into the tunnels themselves, and come to the circular chamber with the solitary wooden door enshrined in the centre.
There's a rustle in the other tunnels.
Nolan strides up to the door and peers up at it.
Jora draws her sword.
Coraline readies her staff.
Nolan puts a hand on the doorknob.
A shiver whispers through the webbing around and overhead. The ceiling thrums.
Nolan turns the knob.
The walls tremble. Gogs poke out of the tunnel openings, peering in.
Nolan opens the door, swinging it open on missing hinges.
The vibrations in the webbing are almost constant, now, jarring, humming. Gogs climb over gogs, peering in, watching. A couple topple down into the room itself.
Behind the door is a space, empty, black, silent. Echoes drift outward, countering the hum around. Behind it is a rhythm, almost like a heartbeat.
Nolan closes the door.
Several more gogs tumble down to the floor.
NOLAN
I see.
The gogs all still around them. The vibrations cease. The humming quiets.
KIT
You do?
ERRY
In the darkness, silence waits. It's listening. It hears us, even now.
Agata pads around the door, peering at the back.
Nolan turns around slightly.
More gogs fall into the room, pushed out of the tunnels by gogs behind them.
Nolan holds up a sign. It says 'Door'.
Several dozen gogs all around them also hold up signs, which also say 'door'.
Nolan holds up another sign that says 'interminable darkness'.
A couple of gogs hold up signs saying 'talk' and 'signs' and 'alive'.
Nolan holds up a sign that says 'sheep'.
KIT
Well, that didn't last long.
There is a shuffling in the tunnels.
Some other gogs hold up signs saying 'open door' and 'darkness'.
AGATA
Oy, human. Open that door again.
Nolan holds up a sign that says 'a master'.
The gogs still and lower their signs.
Nolan turns and opens the door again.
The heartbeat reverberates against the dark. Echoes whisper.
Agata sniffs at the darkness, her ears back.
AGATA
Witch.
What do you see?
CORALINE
(coming a bit closer)
Darkness, and a door with no hinges or frame.
AGATA
Wizard, what about you?
KIT
(also coming over)
Concur with the witch?
AGATA
(shaking her head like an irate cat)
Close your eyes, both of you, and look properly.
CORALINE
Eh?
Regardless, they do.
At first nothing stands out, but then, without eyes, the doorway comes into focus. There is a frame, and beyond it, not darkness at all, but light. Humming. Pulsating.
The voices whisper strangely around, distorted. Something else lingers behind.
KIT
I see a frame.
CORALINE
It's bright. Alive. There's something... familiar...
Kit opens his eyes.
KIT
It hears us. Feels us.
Agata hisses.
ERRY
(shouting)
Close it, close it put it away get it away out out out of my head it's in my head it's... in...
Erry collapses behind them.
Jora hurries over to Erry.
Nolan shoves at the door, but it doesn't close.
KIT
I hear...
Kit starts to walk toward it, but Coraline knocks him down and shoots at the door with her staff. The first blast disappears into the dark, so she shoots the frame, instead, narrowing the blasts, intensifying the heat, making them resonate with the same energies as the frame itself.
The frame begins to unravel, and she finishes it, slicing it to pieces with the bladed wings.
The brightness fades. The voices return to normal.
Coraline opens her eyes.
The open doorway is gone. The strange hum is gone. Only a burnt, bent, gashed door remains on the ground, torn off its imaginary hinges.
Hundreds of gogs stare silently.
Nolan holds up a sign that says 'irrelevant'.
NOLAN
You don't need to open doors. You need paper and a purpose. I will teach you.
Nolan walks over to a seemingly random gog tunnel and stares at the gogs occupying it.
One of them holds up a sign uncertainly: 'forward'.
Coraline glances over to Agata, who simply sits watching.
CORALINE
What was that?
AGATA
A teaching moment.
Kit gets up, looking confused.
KIT
What? Erry?
JORA
She's alive, but unconscious.
Nolan continues to stare at the gogs in the tunnel. Slowly the gogs in it shuffle about, and then start to get out of the way. The gogs in the other tunnels, too, begin to disperse, pouring out into the chamber and scuttling after Nolan.
Nolan heads into the cleared tunnel.
JORA
Get your sister back to town.
Jora hurries after Nolan.
KIT
I suppose we can just let him do his thing.
Kit peers after them longingly.
CORALINE
Oh, just go. See what happens, blow everything up if you have to. I'll take care of your sister.
Kit runs off almost immediately.
Coraline kneels next to Erry and places a hand on her chest, using her healing senses to give the girl a proper go-over. Overall, she seems to be fine. There's a general sense of exhaustion and a bit of a darkness lingering in her mind, but no real sign of overt damage or anything particularly alien.
AGATA
Well, he clearly cares.
CORALINE
He's what, twelve? What do you expect?
(she picks up Erry)
Ugh, she's heavy.
AGATA
Or perhaps you're just weak.
CORALINE
I'm definitely weak. But she's also heavy. These are not exclusive things.
Coraline tries again, this time hoisting Erry across her shoulders in a fireman's carry.


INT. Molstead temple - late morning
Coraline pries the temple door open with a mostly free hand and sidles in.
Davis and Cormith are in a corner talking to their intern, KILBETH.
KILBETH
Are you sure about that?
DAVIS
Yes.
KILBETH
Are you sure you're sure?
Davis turns to look at Coraline pleadingly.
CORALINE
Cormith! You're a real healer, right? Could you give me a hand with this girl?
CORMITH
(hurrying over, looking relieved)
What seems to be the matter?
Coraline passes Erry over to Cormith, and he takes the girl, holding her much more gently than Coraline had been.
CORALINE
Something up in her headbrains. I didn't want to try anything for fear of making it worse.
Tai jotakin sinne päi.
CORMITH
I... see. I'll see what I can do.
(casting over Erry)
What brains?
Cormith carries Erry off into the next room.
CORALINE
Great. In the meantime I think I'm going to get myself reacquainted with your floor.
Coraline lies down heavily on the floor, sprawling across the stone.
CORALINE
(mumbling)
Hello, floor. You're a nice floor.
Davis looms overhead.
DAVIS
Are, um, are you all right?
Kilbeth looms from the other side.
Coraline lethargically holds up a thumb, and then tries to actually put it up relative to the rest of her hand, though it only sort of works due to the angle.
Agata climbs onto Coraline's chest and sits down, a paw very firmly on Coraline's boob.
CORALINE
(recoiling)
Agh, cat!
AGATA
She's fine.
CORALINE
Well, I was, back when I could actually breathe!
Davis picks up Agata.
Coraline very hastily gets up and then nearly falls over again immediately after, grabbing Davis' arm to stabilise herself.
DAVIS
(sounding very concerned)
Are you sure you're all right?
CORALINE
I'm just tired. And blood pressure.
(she takes Agata off him)
I'm fine. Nothing to be worried about. You know the gogs in the woods had a door to horrible black nothing? Because the gogs in the woods had a door that opened up to horrible black nothing. Is that normal?
DAVIS
There are stories of Gateways opening to other realms. Often the entities beyond them are less than friendly.
CORALINE
Sure, except this was a door. Like that one.
(she indicates a completely ordinary door to a back room)
Wooden. With a knob. It had a heartbeat.
I kind of maybe slightly sort of destroyed it.
DAVIS
The heartbeat or the door?
CORALINE
The... door.
Davis nods slowly.


EXT. Granny Höhrmann's place - noonish
Granny Höhrmann's place is a cottage on the other end of town. It is suitably rustic. It has extensive flower gardens. It has grass and a small tree growing on the roof. A goat is tied to a log.
Coraline wanders over and knocks on the front door, Agata slung under an arm.
There's no response.
Coraline heads around back. Agata hangs limply.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN is sitting under a tree with a cat on her lap. They appear to be having a staring contest.
Coraline walks over and stares at both of them for a bit.
CORALINE
(finally)
What are you doing?
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
Arguing with my cat.
AGATA
Are you winning?
Granny Höhrmann looks up in surprise at Agata and squints a bit.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
Mad Anna's cat, isn't it?
AGATA
Not anymore.
CORALINE
So you know each other?
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
Knew Mad Anna.
CORALINE
What about her cat?
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
Might be it.
CORALINE
She says I'm a witch.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
Might be.
There's a long silence as Granny Hörmann goes back to staring at her cat.
CORALINE
So... who's winning the argument?
Granny Höhrmann frowns.
AGATA
Apparently the cat.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
What do you think, Samaritan?
Granny Höhrmann's cat, SAMARITAN, turns to regard Coraline and Agata.
SAMARITAN
(yawning)
What is it, then? What are your knacks?
CORALINE
My what, now?
SAMARITAN
You're a witch, you got knacks. What are you good at?
Coraline glances at Agata.
AGATA
Drinking, mostly.
CORALINE
Hitting things with heavy objects?
AGATA
While drinking.
CORALINE
Yes.
AGATA
Possibly hitting things with objects drinking out of.
CORALINE
I do that sometimes too.
AGATA
I'm not surprised.
CORALINE
Still want me for a witch?
AGATA
Will you stop carrying me like a pile of logs?
CORALINE
Maybe. Depends on your answer.
Granny Höhrmann bursts out laughing.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
Oh, you two are perfect for each other. And here me and Samaritan just argue all the time, but you... you'll spend a lifetime cracking each other up.
There's an awkward silence.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
What's the matter? Spit it out.
Coraline puts down Agata.
Samaritan jumps off Granny Höhrmann's lap and the two cats sniff at each other.
CORALINE
Let's pretend I have much of a lifetime left. Is this where my magic is from? Do cats just... normally show up? What exactly are witches?
(quietly)
Will this... help?
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
Witches are. You're born to it, to your knacks. What you do with it is up to you, but it is yours.
As for whether it'll help you or not, I rather think that'll be up to you.
Don't screw it up.
CORALINE
So it's a tool.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
Exactly.
CORALINE
And I've got a cat who is also a tool.
AGATA
Appropriate, for you.
SAMARITAN
A cat and her witch, you're bound together. You'll share all your power and knowledge. You'll be allies whether you want to or not.
Samaritan stares at Agata.
AGATA
I chose her carefully.
Her knacks are... different. She can heal, and I bet we could kill. Anything.
Agata bares her teeth for a moment, and then it turns into a yawn. Samaritan yawns as well.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
(to Coraline)
And Anna was all about the fire, so you might find you've some skill with that, too, now.
CORALINE
And what about our snark? We get to share that, too?
Agata's voice resonates in Coraline's mind, like the constant voices around, but different.
AGATA
(mind voice)
Always.
CORALINE
(mind voice)
Agata? How... we just talk. And nobody else hears?
AGATA
(mind voice)
Mostly.
Coraline stares at the cats.
CORALINE
Perkele. I get all the worst and best things in my life. Horrid luck. Great luck.
Ghaaah.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
(nodding)
Sounds like life, that.
Go on and learn.
Granny Hörmann waves dismissively.


INT. Molstead Inn - afternoon
It is later. The elf has wandered off for the day, and the spare gog is likewise nowhere to be found. Coraline is doing inn-y things, setting up for the evening, coordinating with Jess. Tress rubs against her legs from time to time, almost tripping her occasionally.
Agata watches from a shelf.
CORALINE
(mind voice)
Agata?
AGATA
(mind voice)
Yes?
CORALINE
(mind voice)
Are you okay with this? With me, what I am?
AGATA
(mind voice)
I knew. Soon as I smelled you, I knew. You're a Carrier, but there's more to you than that. You've got darkness in you, and secrets. But also sisu. What is sisu?
CORALINE
(mind voice)
It means a lot of things. In this case, I guess it might mean survival.
AGATA
(mind voice)
Yes. Your courage, your grit. Determination and focus, even against impossible odds. The hallmarks of a good witch. Sisukas.
CORALINE
(mind voice)
I'm going to die. I may kill a lot of others, and worse, in the process.
AGATA
(mind voice)
And when that happens, I'll find another witch.
Coraline looks up from scooting out a table.
Agata peers down at her imperiously, purring, and closes her eyes.


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Survivor's Song: Introduction

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