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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 mysterious 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 usually 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 annoyingly hamstery 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 Coraline. "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, all hamstery and insistent.
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 hamstery 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 eyed him suspiciously, then said, "You seen Jess around, by any chance?" She figured she might as well try to get something useful out of him while he was here.


"Not today, I'm afraid."
EXT. Clearing - morning


"Foo," she said. "Thanks for the sword, though. I think. And don't ever do that again." She held up a finger for emphasis.
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.


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.
Clouds drift across the blue.


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.
The wind shifts. The horse smells something, its nostrils twitching, ears following. Faint sounds drift in from the way they came. Clatter. Barking.


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.
Dogs.


Coraline nodded. Bit odd for the summer, but it did sometimes happen.
Coraline jumps up quickly, readjusts the tack, and mounts, hurrying the horse back into a trot.


"If not, I'd try the temple," Janice added. "It's near there, and little Jess always did like seeing the statue."
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.


"Little?" Coraline said.
The horse slows further, stiffening, no longer getting up to speed, as the day goes on, and into the night, and morning.


"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.
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.


Coraline smiled and held back some snark at this, instead waving goodbye as she headed out again and Janice wished her a good day.
The second time, she abandons it, continuing only on foot.


She had often wondered what all they thought of her, but never quite had the heart to ask. They 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.


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.


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.
The pursuers are all but drowned out by the voices.


She thought about a bunch of other things, too. She thought about normality and how much she liked it, and how annoyingly not normal this day was being. She thought about what a hard time she was having 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.
It was a good go. A solid fight. She knows this. She accepts it.


He stepped forward, apparently keen on addressing her, but his attention seemed to be mostly on her staff. "Fuck, that's a giant arse staff. What's the deal with that?" he said, gawping.
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 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.
Someone nudges her elbow, lightly, insistently. A young boy, NOLAN (8), is next to her.


"Oh. Really?" he said, looking a little worried.
Nolan takes her arm and pulls at her, unrelentingly, toward the side of the road, before wordlessly shoving her off down a side path.


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. 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.


"Great," he said, just sort of standing there awkwardly.  
The dogs avoid Nolan entirely, shying away, stopping. They do not seem to like him at all.


He didn't seem inclined to say anything else, so she just spun about and continued on her way.
The DEATHDEALER leading the group addresses Nolan.


DEATHDEALER
Where is she?


NOLAN
Who?


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
The woman.


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 stares at the Deathdealer blankly.


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.
DEATHDEALER
Have you seen her?


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


DEATHDEALER
Nobody has come this way?


NOLAN
You should have sheep. Show me to your sheep.


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.
The Deathdealer reins his horse away, looking down the road.


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.
SOLDIER
What?


"Hey, statue," she said, finally breaking the silence outright.
NOLAN
Those are sheep dogs.


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?"
SOLDIER
Dammit, kid, this is serious!


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.
They hurry on around Nolan, continuing on.


"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."
As the clatter and barking dies down again, Nolan turns back down the path to the temple.


"No worse?" the statue said.


"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?"
INT. Molstead temple - evening


"She has not been here," the statue said in its calm low voice.
Coraline opens the door slowly, peering inside, then stumbling in as the heavy door closes behind her.


"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.
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.


And this cat was neither Tress nor Thimble. Everything else aside, it was a lot larger, prettier, and a very fluffy tortoiseshell longhair to boot. "Oy, cat," she said. "Who are you, anyway?"
Some offerings are laid out at its base.


"Does it matter?" the cat said.
CORALINE
(quietly)
Hello?


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
Welcome, wayfarer, to this house of the gods. You have need of sanctuary, I suspect.


"Just Soravian," the statue said. "But shouldn't you know that, if you speak it?"
CORALINE
Yes, gods... yes. Are you Ganesha?


"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."
STATUE OF AZORRES
You will be safe here. My priests will provide a place to rest.


"Most interesting," the statue mused.
CORALINE
But the soldiers... they won't give up. They know what I am.


Coraline frowned, but before she could ask what that meant, the cat said, "You speak cat, I speak Soravian. What does it matter?"
STATUE OF AZORRES
They will not take you from this house.


"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?"
Two priests, DAVIS and CORMITH, come over and help Coraline toward one of the back doors.


The cat purred and curled against Coraline's cheek.
CORMITH
Here, come with us.


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


"I'm Agata," the cat conceded. "I'm a witch's cat. I needed a witch, and you seemed witchy."
CORALINE
Lyra. Lyra Zidane.


"What, did something happen to your old witch? Also, I kind of ain't a witch."
DAVIS
All right, Lyra. You're among friends now.


Agata eyed her for a moment, then stretched out a leg and stuck a claw up her nose.


"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.
INT. Molstead temple - night


"You'll do," the cat purred.
The main room is empty now, aside from Nolan, who is lingering by one of the shrines, looking strangely at home.


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.
The Deathdealer and some of the soldiers enter the temple. They pass Nolan by, not paying him heed.


The statue said nothing, and was instead, for the moment, simply very statuey.
DEATHDEALER
(approaching the statue purposefully)
Where is she, statue?


"Witch died. Had a run-in with a witcher," Agata said under her ear. "Deathdealer, it was."
STATUE OF AZORRES
Who, dear Deathdealer?


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
You know exactly who I mean. We have covered the village. This is the only place she could be. Where is she hiding?


"Around," Agata purred, curling into her fingers happily.
STATUE OF AZORRES
And what do you intend to do should you find her?


The statue's voice echoed through the room once more: "How do you know you are not a witch?"
DEATHDEALER
You know that too.


"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?"
STATUE OF AZORRES
And you should know that no aspect of Azorres would ever aid you toward that end.


"Everything," Agata said. "Young witches get into all the worst trouble."
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.


"Well, this one definitely ain't a witch..." Coraline said.
STATUE OF AZORRES
She is under my protection.


"Try it the other way around," the statue said. "''You'' are looking for Jess. Where did you lose her?"
DEATHDEALER
(starting toward the back door)
I will find her. I will dismantle you piece by piece if I must.


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.  
The statue's voice changes, becoming larger, stranger.


"The road?" Coraline asked finally.
STATUE OF AZORRES
(quietly)
You would threaten a god in his own temple?


"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
I think you should leave now.


"Right," Coraline said, then added, not sarcastically at all, "Thanks, statue. You're a wonderful replacement for a working brain."
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?


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
Do you intend to try me, little man?


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 (who is decidedly not little) and soldiers stare at Nolan.


"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 stares impassively back, not blinking.


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.
DEATHDEALER
You will be witnessed.


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
Okay.


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.
The Deathdealer nods at the soldiers, and they all leave.


The only other thing that stood out was the bandit camp flat smack in the centre of the ruins.
Nolan tilts his head slightly.


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.
The Deathdealer draws his sword. On its blade, by the hilt, is a dark emblem of a skull and mask.


"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.
Nolan doesn't move.


"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.
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.


"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.
The Deathdealer stops and relaxes, turning to regard the statue in surprise.


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.
DEATHDEALER
I... understand. I will obey.


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
Tell your men she is dead, the matter handled before you even came. This is ''over''.


And for now she had bandits to worry about. They seemed to be eating lunch.
The Deathdealer bows shakily and then very hastily leaves.


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.
After, Nolan strolls over to the statue looking almost curious.


Perhaps she could go for help. Call the council, 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.
NOLAN
Interesting.


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.
STATUE OF AZORRES
Very.


"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.
</screenplay>


Agata gave her a dubious look but followed closely. One of the watchers said something as she approached.
=== A day in the life ===


"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.
<screenplay>


Coraline stopped a few metres away, and he smiled slowly. "You in charge?" she demanded flatly.
INT. Molstead Inn - morning


He regarded her for a moment, then said softly, "Bold move, coming alone." He seemed to disregard the cat.
Coraline Dreams.


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.
<div class="dream">


"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.
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.


The crossbow guy laughed nervously.
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.


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.
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.


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


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.
"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 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."
"I won't ask him," the car replies, withdrawing back into the wall.


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."
That's good enough. But then you realise you're stopped.


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.
The dream falls away.


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.
</div>


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.


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 walk back to the Eslinger farm was quick, or so it felt to Coraline.
The voices are a disorganised chatter, roaring in the background.


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 shoves the cat off her head and then sits up, eyeing the cat confusedly.


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


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 occasionally set things on fire, 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
Mwaaagh?


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 cat purrs.


The girl's eyes fluttered open, then she saw Coraline. "Lyra?" she said, sitting up. "Where am I?"
CORALINE
{{idioma|Perkele.}} You're not one of mine. Who the crap are you, cat, and what are you doing in my bed?


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?"
The cat doesn't respond.


Jess's grip tightened, but she just looked away.
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.


"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 kitchen is empty, the stove cold. A few ash demons are floating over the wood, like little puffs of ash.


"I can't," Jess said quietly. "I just see them... and I can't. I can't. I can't."
Coraline shoos the ash demons aside and grabs a chunk of bread.


"It's all right," Coraline repeated. "Tell me what you see."
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.


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.
An ELVEN TOURIST is seated primly at the bar, patiently waiting.


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 hurries over to the elf and give him an uncertain look.


"This is Agata," Coraline said. "Hold onto her for a bit. She likes her ears scratched."
The elf eyes her curiously.


Then she ran outside, grabbing her staff on the way.
CORALINE
Uh, how long have you been waiting?


"Er..." Jess said.
ELVEN TOURIST
Oh, not long, an hour or two.


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


When she looked up, Mrs. Eslinger was in the doorway, smiling coldly.
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.


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.
The tortoiseshell pads over as Coraline moves to head out, and she picks up the cat and hefts her at the elf.


"They deserved worse," Mrs. Eslinger said.
CORALINE
Is this your cat?


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


"I know how to take care of my own daughter," Mrs. Eslinger said darkly.


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.
EXT. Molstead - morning


"You seen a lot of this?" Mrs. Eslinger asked, interrupting her mental tangent.
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.


"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?"
Coraline holds up the cat like a sack of potatoes.


"Burn it. Burn them all."
CORALINE
(to the cat)
Any of this yours? Hmm?


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.
The cat hangs limply in her hands. This is decidedly un-catlike, and yet at the same time, incredibly catlike.


Jess stood nearby, watching, with Agata still in her arms.
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.


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.


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.
EXT. Molstead market square - slightly later morning


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.
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.


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.
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.


"Need something?" Kit asked.
HAMSTERY GUY
What day is it?


"Is that a moose?" Coraline asked.
The hamstery guy circles around to follow her from the other side, except now he's actually slightly in front of her.


"I have no idea," Kit said. "Not a sheep, though. Nolan checked."
Coraline attempts to refrain from punching him in the face with a cat.


"Why?" Coraline said.
HAMSTERY GUY
What day is it?


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.
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.


Keller bustled into the room, and upon seeing Coraline, exclaimed, "Miss Zidane! So good to see you again!" As usual, his fancy wizard robes were flowing hugely around his ageing frame, and she got the impression his bustle was primarily in effect in order to take full advantage of that. "You've finally come to your senses, yes?" he said, continuing to bustle around. "Of course I can only help you so much so far out here, but-"
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!


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.
He holds the sword up in her face.


"What?" He hurried in after her, but she was already going through the compounds.
CORALINE
(pushing the sword away with the cat)
Now, look, I really don't...


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.  
She's interrupted by the hamstery guy pushing Barney aside and getting in her face.


"Wait, that's dangerous!" he insisted. "You shouldn't just be mixing things like that!"
HAMSTERY GUY
What day is it?


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!"
CAT
(hissing)
The day you die.


He gave her a worried look, but she just dropped some coins in his hand.
The cat slides out of Coraline's hands and settles around her shoulders, instead.


"For the supplies," she said. "I... think."
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.


"Look, this isn't that simple, Miss Zidane," Keller said, pushing the money back at her.
Foiled, the hamstery guy sidles off to bother someone else.


She ignored it and brushed past him, and the money just wound up on the floor as a result.
BARNEY
Five silver. Once in a lifetime deal. Just five, and it's all yours!


He hurried after her. "You should be learning proper magic," he insisted, "not... barging in here and mixing gods know what."
Coraline glares at him with the full force of Finnish Death.


"Yeah, that's my job," Kit pointed out.
Barney smiles at her disarmingly.


"I don't have time for that," she said vaguely, then muttered again, "Time."
CORALINE
If I wanted to buy a sword, I would have commissioned one and you know it.


"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.
Barney gives her his best crestfallen look. Coraline continues to glare at him.


Somehow, she actually caught it.
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.


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 continues to glare at where he was for a moment, and then just looks confused.


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.
CORALINE
What?


Everything was fuzzy. The previously oppressive heat just felt like butterflies, now.
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?


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.
Her hand falls to the sword, which has somehow been added very neatly with another belt opposite her bag.


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. This was dangerous. 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.
CAT
You got yourself a sword.


Then she was walking again.
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.


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.
After, she heads off down the road.


Crossbow bolts whizzed overhead and thunked and plinged around her. The bomb exploded on impact with a hissy flpomph.


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.
EXT. Molstead road - late morning


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


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
Obviously I'm a cat.


She counted... she couldn't count. She got up to one. Then she lost count.
CORALINE
One that speaks. And has a sense of sarcasm.


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 doesn't respond.


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
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?


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.
CAT
I'm a witch's cat. I needed a witch, and you seemed witchy.


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
What, did something happen to your old witch?


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 purrs.


She pushed her way inside.
CORALINE
You got a name, then?


The cat purrs some more.


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.
CORALINE
Cat, I got five cats already and I call them all 'cat', so please, something a bit more specific would be nice.


It was for this that people called him Huge Bob.
The cat stretches out a leg and sticks a claw up Coraline's nose.


Huge Bob was too warm.
CAT
Maybe.


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
(removing the cat paw from her face)
Maybe?


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.
CAT
I'm Agata.


"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.
CORALINE
Agata. Okay. Good. Do I look like a witch to you?


"Fucking shit," he added for emphasis.
CAT
(purring)
They all think you're a wizard. It's the same thing, really.


The shit took its own time, in absolutely no hurry at all, despite all of Huge Bob's efforts.
CORALINE
(she sighs)
They also think I'm from Ord.


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.


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.
EXT. Eslinger farm - noonish


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


He backed away, and nearly tripped over a man. This wasn't right. Nothing about this was right.  
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?


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
Hey Temmie. Was Jess coming to work today?


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.
TEMMIE
Oh, aye. She left same as usual, hours back. Why?
(confused)
Did she not... Lyra?


"Agh!" she yelped, jumping back.
CORALINE
She was here and then she left?


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.
TEMMIE
Er, yes.


"What the fuck?!" he yelled, advancing on her, though it sounded muffled. He raised the axe for another swing, swinging, bringing it down.  
CORALINE
Right. So clearly something happened between here and there and there and... I need a new brain.


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 turns and leaves without saying anything more, and Agata pounces after her.


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.
TEMMIE
Hey, hey, wait!


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.


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.


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.
Agata ambles inside and sits down in front of the main large statue of Azorres, peering up at it.


She was still alive.
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.


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, strangely 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.
Agata swishes her tail.


She grabbed the bandit leader's hat, too, while she was at it.
CORALINE
(getting out a bottle of vodka)
Hey statue.


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
Welcome back, wayfarer. How are you holding up?


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
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?


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 have your answer there. Follow the path between farm and town, and perhaps the clues will reveal themselves.


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 nods, but doesn't go, holding the bottle like a shield.


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.
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.


She got to the temple a few minutes later, finding Davis, one of the priests, lighting the candles at the various shrines.
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.


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.
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.


"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?"
CORALINE
But what can I do?


"What?" Davis said, behind her.
STATUE OF AZORRES
Find Jess. One problem at a time.


The long, low voice of the statue echoed throughout the chamber. "And what would have happened had you not?"
AGATA
You're oddly intelligent, for a statue.


"I don't know," Coraline said blankly, in what was mostly not a GIR voice, though only mostly.
STATUE OF AZORRES
I will take that as a compliment, little one.


"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
Cat, after some of the people I've dealt with, I'd say it's oddly intelligent for anything, really.


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
I thought you were going to quit calling me 'cat'.


Davis laughed nervously, backing away.
CORALINE
Dammit cat, I call all my cats 'cat'.


Then she admitted, "Okay, I guess I mostly just came here because you lot have the only decent baths in town."
Agata peers up at Coraline imperiously.


"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 narrows her eyes.


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."
CORALINE
Sassmaster.


Agata closes her eyes contentedly.


Coraline scoops up Agata.


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.
CORALINE
And seriously, thanks, statue. You're a wonderful replacement for a working brain.


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.


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."
EXT. Molstead outskirts - noonish


"It's a totally good idea!" Kit insisted.
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.


"Will there be sheep?" Nolan asked.
Coraline is now much more drunk, and the voices practically silent, drowned out by the resulting fuzziness.


"Yeah, maybe," Kit said, and threw his arms out. "There could be anything!"
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.


"That's the spirit," Coraline said as she passed, despite having absolutely no idea what they were talking about.
CORALINE
Damn. Alcohol is lovely in this heat.


Kit nodded in agreement.
AGATA
Smooth.


She got a few comments from the townsfolk for her clothes - not just for the ripped skirt, but also the bloodstains. But it didn't even matter; something had happened, and she'd taken care of it. They weren't worried.
CORALINE
(indicating the trail)
There's some ruins out this way. Maybe... I dunno.


"You don't mess with our wizards," Alec James said proudly, slapping her on the back. The other Jameses agreed, and some other folk nodded too.
AGATA
Do you have any leads at all?


And that was it, basically. The exact word would get out later, and it didn't even matter, at least not to them.
CORALINE
None whatsoever.


AGATA
Do you have anywhere you need to be?


CORALINE
Nope.


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.
AGATA
Well.


"You a customer now?" Jess said, smiling.
CORALINE
Right.


Coraline put the bandit's hat on the bar in front of her, and Jess picked it up, staring at it.
They head down the path.


"Did you..." the girl began, then tried again. "Are they..." She looked at Coraline hopefully.


"Yeah, all dead," Coraline said tiredly. Then she added under her breath, "I think." Not that it would likely matter much - after what had happened, she rather doubted any survivors would try to come back.
EXT. Elven ruins - early afternoon


Jess just stared at her, lost for words.
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 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."
Coraline comes out on the path, looks around, climbs onto a particularly large white block, and glares out over the ruins.


"You know, it's weird, but I just feel safe here," Jess responded, pouring out a very small amount of the bizarre oniony liquor.
An alarming amount of spider webs glare back at her from some of the trees on the far end.


"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.
CORALINE
(squinting unhelpfully)
...gogs?


"Well, there is that," Jess said.
A beige and gloopy PORRIDGE gloops past Agata on the ground, and she hisses at it.


Dors gave them a big smile from across the room.
Coraline hops down and heads over into the webby trees.


"Will you be all right handling for the night?" Coraline asked. "I think I... kind of need to pass out now."


Jess picked up the suddenly empty mug and gave it a dubious look, but nodded.
INT. Gog tunnels - afternoon


"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.
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.


== 2: Hunter and prey ==
As Coraline and Agata progress, the webs get thicker.


{{q|Events do not occur apart and singly. Anything worth the hunting has a cost.|''Sandman''}}
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.


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.
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.


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, always so precise, so distinct, the same here as it had been in Seras and Telegrin, and in Kalona before that. He had not expected this. Not here.
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.


He stopped in 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 waited in a corner and observed, out of the way.
Coraline walks up and pokes one of them.


Laughter and conversation drifted throughout the square. Bright leaves blew past. Brown leaves scurried across the ground.
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.


Passerby greeted the hunter cheerfully. A few asked what brought him to town. A few others avoided him, concerned by his aspect and appearance - dangerous and out of place, much like the inverse of a high-class picnic on a battlefield - 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.
Coraline scoots past them carefully into the hole and walk-crawls very awkwardly through it.


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.
AGATA
(next to Coraline's ear)
I hope you know what you're doing.


"What time is it?" the man asked. He was slightly dirty, and for all the world resembled an emaciated hamster that had suddenly gotten up and decided to be human.
CORALINE
I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing, or what's going on. Gogs aren't... this isn't what they do.


The hunter checked the sky. "Quarter to five, I s'pose?"
AGATA
Looks like they did.


"What time is it?" he asked again, more insistently this time, and this time the hunter didn't answer, merely waited.
CORALINE
Mostly they're just an annoyance. Steal some sheep. Web over a door. That sort of thing.


After about an hour, the man narrowed his eyes, made an angry noise, and headed off to the next person to pester.
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.


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.
Coraline stares at it blankly for a moment.


Nobody ever mentioned it unless they ran into it.
CORALINE
I don't even want to know.


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 staring at Coraline, who was for her part taking a drink every time one of them blinked.
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.


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, and the entire plan had been ruined. So instead she simply watched them.
AGATA
And yet you're continuing.


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.
Coraline gives the door one last worried look before scooting into the new tunnel and hurrying away.


These were the days she lived for, long and lazy, no worries, no concerns.


More townsfolk came in, as well as a few outskirts folks in 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 was at the door.
EXT. Gog clearing - afternoon


Nobody took the other seats at the cats' table.
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.


Thimble blinked.
Coraline is sobering up a bit as they come out, but the voices are still quiet.


Coraline took a drink.
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.


Tress yawned.
Coraline watches curiously for a moment.


Someone splashed their drink on Agata and she put an ear back in discontent. Coraline scratched her own ear absent-mindedly.
CORALINE
You know you need hinges, right?


Tress yawned some more.
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.


Over the noise, someone yelled at Coraline asking what was up with the cats.
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.


She held up a hand signaling for them to wait.
JESS
(also not moving)
Lyra?


Tress continued to yawn.
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.


Tress finally finished yawning and blinked.
CORALINE
You okay? Kind of need you at the inn. We do have elves.


Coraline took a drink, then yelled back, "What?"
JESS
Um... yeah, mostly, I guess?


"I said what are you doing?" the guy said. He was an out-of-towner, but she didn't recognise him as anyone from even the surrounding townships. 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 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.


"Drinking," Coraline told him over the roar.
CORALINE
(patting Jess awkwardly on the shoulder a couple of times)
There, uh, there?


He raised an eyebrow, then asked, "Mind if I sit?"
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.


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.
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?


"You look like you own the place," the guy said. "Table to yourself, only some cats on it..."
CORALINE
They wanted help with the doors, apparently.


"I do own the place," Coraline said. "Aside from the cats. The cats own me."
Coraline looks around at the motionless gogs. There seem to be fewer now.


"Oh," he said. Then he added, "The name's Dalric. Dalric of Forst. You?"
CORALINE
We should probably get out of here. If they let us.


"Lyra," she said.
JESS
What did you do?


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.
CORALINE
Uh...


"Got any rooms, then?" he asked a bit later.
AGATA
She mentioned hinges.


"Should be one left. Twenty silver a night," she said, watching Agata carefully. The tortoiseshell seemed to be closing her eyes very, very slowly.
A nearby gog collapses.


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.
Jess jumps, and winds up behind Coraline, clinging to her shoulder.


Just to be safe, she took two drinks and twitched an eye at Agata.
Coraline turns around, pulling Jess with her.


The guy waited until she seemed to be done, then asked, "Why so much?"
All the gogs that had been behind them are gone.


"Festival," Coraline explained. Everyone from the outlying farms came in, and space just went too quickly if it was cheaper. This way folks who actually needed it had a better chance of getting something.  
JESS
What? They're... They're...


"Oh," he said.
CORALINE
Meh.


She explained that Jess could actually get him set up with a room, and 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.
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.


Finally, the hunter said, "So I see what you're doing. ''Why'' are you doing it?"


Coraline glanced up. "Why not?" she said, then took another drink as Thimble closed his eyes and rolled over.
EXT. Molstead woods - afternoon


He gave her a sceptical look.
Coraline and Jess get back out into the open woods without too much trouble, but an odd stillness follows them. A disquieting quiet.


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."
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.


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.
JESS
What is it?


In turn, she asked him what brought him here, a professional monster hunter into the peaceful lands away from the fields of ruin.
CORALINE
I don't want to alarm you, but I think we're being followed.


He asked how she'd known.
A bush shudders nearby.


"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
Definitely being followed.


He nodded again, and said, "Towns got bounties, too. Oughtn't neglect them when there's lives at stake here same as everywhere else."
JESS
Run?


"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.
CORALINE
We don't even know who it is. Maybe it's someone who could tell us which way to run.


"None at all?"
JESS
What?


"Naw," she said. "We had some lurkers a few weeks back, but the kids took care of those."
AGATA
She means to say we're lost.


"Really."
CORALINE
I would never say that. But if I would, well, yeah. We're lost.
(loudly)
Hello we need directions can you help us?


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 trees rustle overhead, and leaves drift down.


"Don't their parents mind?" He asked.
A scuttling skitters in the underbrush around, over the hillocks, behind the trees.


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 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.


"Sounds like quite the fellow."
Jess clings to Coraline.


"He's completely obsessed with sheep," Coraline said.
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.


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.
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.


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.
A gog tumbles off the side and rolls away, only to scamper back to the pile and climb back on.


"Nolan," Jora was saying, "Please come down. I know you have your reasons for being up there, but your parents
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.
are worried about you. Just come down, eat dinner with them, sleep in your bed for a night, and come back in the morning."


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.
Then Coraline lowers her sword very suddenly. Jess jumps.


He landed right next to Jora, his nose about two inches away from her elbow. She didn't even flinch.
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'.


Jora escorted Nolan back as the stars twinkled overhead, and wondered if this had anything to do with the riddle that 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
Really? We hadn't noticed.


Nolan, meanwhile, thought about sheep. And a few other things too, but mostly sheep.
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.


Dalric stood when the innkeeper did, receiving a suspicious look for his trouble.
But inside are also doors.


"Don't," she said.
CORALINE
So... door problem.


It was an odd response, but he just nodded as she left. He wasn't sure what it was she didn't want him to do, of course, but perhaps this 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.
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 Carrier could be anyone.
The pile also quivers in agreement, or something.


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


"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."
The gog holds up a sign that says 'open door'.


"He's always asking," another said. "Always asking, never likes the answer."
Coraline sighs.


"Asks a bunch of things, doesn't he? Like he just picks something at random for the day every morning."
CORALINE
Which one of you is Keith?


"I don't think he sleeps at all."
A gog pries its way out of the pile and holds up a sign. The sign says only, 'Keith'.


"Been going on a few months now."
CORALINE
Hi, Keith. What are you after when you get inside a... human nest?


"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."
Keith holds up a sign that says 'paper'.


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


But Dalric wasn't so sure. He wasn't sure at all, but indeed it looked likely, especially if he really wasn't sleeping. Odd that a Carrier might last so long - usually it was a couple 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.
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.


Dalric did not like the implications of that one bit.
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.


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.


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.


Dalric was also up, though not up a tree, watching the buildings, noting the paths, looking again for anything odd or hamstery. 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
It's a gog.


He found Yink crouching behind the blacksmithy, muttering to himself.
PATRON
Um.


The hamster man stood suddenly, and looked around, quickly spotting Dalric. "What time is it?" he asked, advancing slowly.
The gog holds up a sign. It says, 'gog'. It's unclear where this came from.


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.
CORALINE
See?


"What time is it?" Yink stared into Dalric's eyes insistently. "What time is it?"
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 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
(ushering Jess inside instead)
Yeah, let's just leave it at that.
(to the patrons)
It's friendly. Don't do anything stupid.


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


He pushed past him and still Yink followed.
INT. Molstead Inn - evening


"What time is it?" Yink asked.
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?


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.
Jess nods.


She groaned and went back to sleep.
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.


The dripping continued in the background.
CORALINE
Stay.


Dors pours Jess a drink.


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


The day pulled itself up by the elbows and, with great effort, turned bright and sunny. Clouds pulled themselves across the bright sky. Townsfolk busied themselves with stuff and things, while the children ran about eating random things, getting in the way, and occasionally helping amidst an air of anticipation. Nolan pulled a twig across the bark of his tree.
Coraline heads to the kitchen to get some food, and grabs her staff while she's at it.


Amidst this, Dalric had intended to tail Yink about his normal day, see what he did, what oddities arose, and generally just observe. Given that Yink was still following ''him'' around, this was rendered somewhat more difficult, though it did afford a few other opportunities. He could lead the guy various different places, for one. It would potentially make the guy quite easy to isolate, for another, decreasing the risk to the townsfolk.
When she gets back, plates in hand, phoenix staff slung over a shoulder, a small crowd has gathered around one of the tables.


Most people afflicted with the Death of Souls simply died. It was sad, but not terribly interesting, aside from the minor concern that their souls were also apparently lost in the process. Depending on their religious beliefs, this may or may not have been a big deal.
Dors is striking ridiculous poses at Jess.


It was the people who didn't just die right off the bat who were the problem: the Carriers. For these, the first stage of affliction tended to have three main symptoms: a hunger, a general restlessness, and an generalised fear or nervousness. Given that most people had some level of all of these at any given time in the first place, these were not a particularly useful metric and were often simply ignored by anyone not researching the topic for the purpose of researching the topic. It was only in stage two that anything potentially useful arose, but even then it was generally not conclusive.
Coraline deposits the plates by Jess and goes to investigate the crowd.


Unfortunately by the time it reached stage three it was also generally too late: at this stage the Carriers would devolve into utter madness and try to eat the souls of everyone and everything with which they came in contact, infecting some, killing the rest. And after a bit of that, they, too, would die.
The gog is on the table. Several guys are attempting to give it beer.


Stage three was, all in all, a horrible mess, and as a result it usually paid to err on the side of maybe and just kill anyone too suspicious at stage two.
The gog holds up a sign that says 'inside'.


Yink was suspicious, but not too suspicious at this point. Right now he was chewing on his thumb. He made no indication of hearing voices.
GUY
Yeah, put the beer inside. You ''drink'' it. You getting this?
(to the others)
Am I saying this right?


"Oy," Dalric said, beckoning the guy over. "You hungry?"
ANOTHER GUY
Sure, look, it seems to get it.


Yink approached carefully, then asked, much less carefully, "What time is it?"
The gog drinks some beer.


"You don't give a fuck what bloody time it is," Dalric said. "Just answer the damn question. Are you hungry?"
Coraline backs away very quickly, grabs her plate, and leaves the inn entirely.


Yink stared at the hunter for a moment, struggled internally, then asked, "What time is it?"


Dalric glared at him.
INT. Keller's place - evening


Yink stared back, then finally nodded, very, very slowly.
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.


"Great," Dalric said, and stuffed a rather large meat pie into the madman's hands.
A moment later, KIT, Keller's apprentice (he's about 12), answers the door, peering up at her curiously.


Yink clutched it in a hamstery fashion. Then he nibbled it. Then he continued to nibble it. Then he nibbled it some more. All the while he stared at Dalric with buggy eyes, not even blinking.
KIT
Need something?


Dalric had stared down all manner of creatures over the years - monsters of the night, undead, rabid bears, cranky old ladies, even a dragon - but this was just unsettling. Even so, he stared into those buggy eyes and was unsettled. Very unsettled.  
CORALINE
Got a job, if you're interested.


Yink nibbled.
KIT
Yeah?


Dalric's eye twitched.
KELLER, dressed in stereotypical wizard robes, swoops the door open entirely before Coraline can respond.


Much, much later, the entire pie was finally all nibbled up, Yink was sidling closer and closer, and Dalric was certain of only one thing: he needed a drink.
KELLER
Miss Zidane! So good to see you again. Do come in, come in!


But first he had to ask: "Do you still feel hungry?"
He ushers Kit out of the way, and Coraline inside.


Yink shrugged, staring up at him, buggy-eyed and hamstery.
Having lost access to Kit, Coraline comes inside.


"Well?" Dalric insisted.
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.


"What time is it?" Yink said.
Coraline eyes the books curiously.


Dalric winced, took a deep breath, and then asked instead, "Do you ever hear voices?"
KELLER
So what brings you out this way this fine day, hmm?


"Yes," Yink said.
Coraline takes another bite of her food, still eyeing the books.


"You do?"
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.


"Yes," Yink repeated, and pointed to the hunter. Then he asked again, sticking his face right under Dalric's, "What time is it?"
Coraline painfully drags herself away from the idea of books and gets back to what she actually came here for.


Dalric took another deep breath, and then slowly, very slowly, turned Yink around and made his way out of the town centre. Yink, of course, followed.
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.


In the dream, the world was a forest of legs: human legs, table legs, elven and orcan legs, ox and dolyak legs. Skirts and leggings rustled in the breeze. Leaves drifted limply about. The sun was high, but the air was cool. The forest was dead, dormant, waiting.
CORALINE
Why?


She stalked through the legs, looking for something but not knowing what it was. Then she caught the scent - or perhaps simply a feeling - and broke into a run, bounding on all fours, wind streaming through her luxurious fur. The forest thinned, but the leaves were swirling about and now she was fighting to keep going, fighting to stay on her feet, the leaves pushing and jostling, picking her up off the ground, floating, floating.
Kit shrugs.


It all fell away, but really she was falling, falling through the sky, away from the world, everything fading into blackness.
KELLER
Oh, you know. You need the right space.


There was a flash of space, of an alien terrain that had become all too familiar, and then in a sudden rush of voices, Coraline awoke.
CORALINE
Right. I actually need to borrow your apprentice.


She found herself staring up at Malla's worried face. Said face was worryingly close to her own. Said face was saying something. Something worried. Something about something upstairs. Something come look. You said to tell you if we ever saw something odd, and there's something odd in one of the rooms, and I'm afraid, milady. Please, you need to deal with it.
KELLER
(disappointedly)
But I have so much to give!


"What?" Coraline said groggily. She still felt a bit like she was falling, though the feeling was fading.
CORALINE
Unless ''you'' want to investigate a bunch of possibly insane gogs?


"There's something in one of the rooms, milady Zidane," Malla repeated. "You need to come look, please. I don't know what it is, but there's just something not right about it."
Keller stares at her for a moment.


"So what is it?" Coraline asked, pulling herself out of bed and into some actual clothes.
KELLER
I've got research. Very important research that I must attend to.


"I..." Malla shook her head. "It's black. Shiny. Feels like the whole world gone wrong."
CORALINE
Of course. I wouldn't mean to ask you to do anything beneath your station.


Coraline frowned, but gestured for the woman to lead on. She grabbed a bottle of whiskey on her way out.
Keller hastily flounces off into another room.


The room in question was the hunter's room. Though Jess had been the one to actually assign the guy, Coraline was still reasonably sure of this because there were leathers all over and the table was covered in weapons, mostly knives. It looked like he hadn't actually slept in the bed, either, but simply on.
Kit raises an eyebrow.


Staying as far back from the doorway as she could, Malla pointed to the small-table by the bed. On it was a book, and next to that, three shiny stones, two an off white, one black, the size of golfballs. Coraline had seen similar once before. She remembered the cold feeling as the spell had settled over her, like water dripping down under her skin, and shivered.
KIT
Insane gogs?


Then she pushed it aside and smiled reassuringly back at Malla. "Just stay here," she said, and headed over to the table. As she got closer, she could feel the voices getting louder in her head, and it seemed almost as though she were pushing against a current, and yet at the same time, she was drawn through it, to the black. That black stone. So familiar. So inviting. Safe. Necessary. Needed. The voices rose to a scream.
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.


Her finger touched the stone and everything fell away. Voices, floor, gravity, all the light and sound in the world.
KIT
Sounds like you want Nolan.


It all just fell away.
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...


Somehow Coraline managed to avoid falling over herself, and a moment later everything was back to normal - the floor where it should be, gravity doing what it was supposed to, the voices just a murmur in the back of her mind. She was holding the black stone clutched in front of her, its cold surface unrelenting in her grip. She forced her hand to relax a bit and gave it an annoyed look.
KIT
And I'm sure we can find a use for overloud shrieking.


"Milady?" Malla said uncertainly from the doorway.
Coraline shrugs.


"This is a soul gem," Coraline said, turning, holding up the black stone. "Except this isn't a soul in it. Souls are... well, they're not really anything, normally. Just memories, resonance. They might glow a bit." She wasn't sure how she knew this, but she did.
CORALINE
Out of curiosity, what would Keller be likely to charge for some of those books?


Malla nodded, confused.
KIT
More than they're worth. They're just manuals, and half of them are completely wrong.


"I need you to go call on the Mayers. Tell Edine I need the council," Coraline said gravely, forcing herself to put the stone back down on the small-table. She knew what... whatever the hunter's name was... was really hunting.
CORALINE
Damn.


Her.
Kit pulls one out of a pile and hands it to Coraline.


And a moment later the realisation hit her.
KIT
Here, this one's a good starting kit. Just take it. He won't even notice.


She had just fallen into his trap.
CORALINE
Er, thanks.


Coraline glanced back to the doorway, but Malla had already gone.


She proceeded to panic for a bit, realised she was still holding whiskey in her other hand, drank a bunch of whiskey, panicked some more, and then finally calmed down a bit. She needed to think, not... make it even harder to think.
EXT. Molstead - evening


She gave the bottle of whiskey a disappointed look, gave the black soul gem another irritated look so it wouldn't feel left out, and shuffled back downstairs.
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.


Jess was dozing off at the counter, though there were folks in the tavern already, so Coraline busied herself with a bit of bartending and whatnot for a bit as well. Normal stuff. It occurred to her that this was all pretty much exactly what she should have done as Lyra Zidane, perfectly normal (but slightly badass) innkeeper, regardless. Being a wizard, it only made sense she might recognise some of the tools of the trade, and a hunter seeking the Death of Souls was indeed a matter of town concern - if they had a Carrier, the potential devastation could be huge, and if not, it was quite likely more than a few folks would get caught and killed in the ensuing inquisition before such was proven. They had all heard the stories of places hit by groundless paranoia.
Outside, the voices are almost completely drowned out by the clatter of insects. Almost.


So yes, this was very much something the town council should discuss, and determine for themselves what they thought of the matter, and subsequently what to do about it. The usual works.
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.


The Molstead town council was not so much a council, exactly, as it was a tea party that happened occasionally, usually whenever one of the members/members' wives/members' sons/random people staying with a member felt like it. Or, in that last case, wanted said member out of the house so they could throw a sort of party of their own. Although that had only happened that one time and the man in question had later been forced to marry his 'party' and settle down with a nice herd of goats. They now had a baby on the way.
JESS
I wish I could be like you. Nothing ever stops you, does it?


The members of the council either showed up because they had power, or had power because they showed up. Either way, it all worked out, because it was a relatively subtle sort of power - the power that keeps things moving, that resolves disputes, that brings down your scary aunt Edna on you should you step out of line.
Coraline gives Jess a confused look.


Coraline was on the council because as innkeeper, she knew most everyone, and most everyone knew her... and also, of course, because she was a wizard - or possibly a witch - whereas Keller, despite being a wizard as well, wasn't on the council because he never actually showed up. The others were generally representatives of powerful or large families, or elders with a lot of sway, or Nolan's mum, who came mostly just because she needed to be sure Nolan wasn't disturbing anyone too much. Merlijn, the leader of the militia, tended to come as well, for obvious reasons, along with Davis, who purportedly represented the interests of the temple, though if this were really true it would have meant that the temple's primary interest was in cakes.<!--
JESS
I just froze. I had no idea what to do, but then you showed up... thank you. Thank you.


Those present:
Coraline nods.


Edine Mayer big family
CORALINE
Everton James big family
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.
Davis temple
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.
Naran elder
(quietly)
Moira elder
I still sometimes have no idea, though, and I put it off, don't deal with it. It just gets worse in the meantime.


Granny Höhrmann elder/witch
JESS
Coraline innkeep/witch
You talked to the gog.


Gwynne Nolan's mum
CORALINE
Merlijn militia
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.


Edine Mayer was hosting.
JESS
I'd like to stop at the temple first.


Davis was eating a cake.
CORALINE
Sure.


Coraline was mixing the Cerrisian equivalent of Irish coffee. Some of the wives didn't appreciate this. Some of them did.


Agata was under the coffee table.
INT. Molstead Temple - late evening


Folks were shuffling around and sitting down.
Davis is lighting candles at the shrines as Jess and Coraline enter.


Merlijn's hair was sticking almost straight up. He looked decidedly frazzled, though the rest of him not nearly so much as his hair. "What was so important we all needed to come ''today'' of all days?" he asked.
Jess goes to a few of the shrines and does shriney things.


"A hunter," Coraline said, with as much eloquence as she could through a mouthful of highly alcoholic coffee. "Dalric of Forst." She was momentarily surprised at having remembered his name, but just went with it. Or tried to.
Coraline wanders over to bother Davis, standing right behind him.


"So?" Edine said. "We've seen him around."
CORALINE
Bother.


Coraline took a minute to choke on her coffee, then another to stop choking, before following up. "He's hunting the Death of Souls."
DAVIS
Oh, hello.


There was a stir around the living room, which was saying something because a good chunk of the folks were already still shuffling about for unrelated reasons.
Davis looks at Coraline expectantly.


"Are you sure?" This was Naran, one of the elders. He was leaning over his coffee unconcerned, but he generally always seemed unconcerned about generally everything. He was like a Finn in that, and Coraline rather approved.
CORALINE
...that was really all I had to say.


"Quite," Coraline said. "Malla was cleaning the rooms and found something that put her on edge, poor dear. Turned out to be a black soul gem, just lying out on the end-table with a bunch of empty ones. Hunters use these to prevent the Death from jumping hosts by trapping it instead," she explained, "which is also how you get the black ones."
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.


"But if he just left it there," Moira, another elder, began, "How can you be sure he's hunting now? Doesn't that mean he'd already be done?"
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.


Coraline shook her head. "Carriers are attracted to other Carriers, so it's possible that the gem, too, was intended to draw any out." They seemed to buy this, so she went on: "And why come here, otherwise? We have no bounties. And if he has soul gems, why leave them out? They're expensive, and black ones exponentially so. He's been watching the town, asking around, looking." She looked around at the assorted folks. "It's a challenge. A trap."
DAVIS
Where is the antithesis? These things go together perfectly, each giving meaning to the other.


The others glanced around too. They all knew what this meant, or at least pretended to in order to not look stupid.
CORALINE
But aren't they at odds? That very meaning comes from the opposition.


It was Nolan's mum, Gwynne, who finally broke the silence. "We don't have any Carriers," she said. "Do we?"
Davis remains silent as he finishes lighting the candles, and turns to face her when he's done.


"Unlikely," Coraline said. "We'd know if there was an outbreak. Generally Carriers only survive a few days at most, so the only way it travels is by folks coming in and passing it on. And even then the voices they'd hear would make them incapable of functioning."
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.


Gwynne frowned. "Nobody's come in from out excepting this Dalric himself," she said. "And nobody's been hearing voices what hasn't been for years already. It's a dead end."
CORALINE
I guess I just don't much care for some of them.


"It'll be a mess," Merlijn said dejectedly. "He'll go around trying to figure who it is when he doesn't know a thing! And now of all the damn times?" He looked up, mostly at Edine. "Pardon my language."
DAVIS
You don't need to care for something to see the value.


Edine waved it away, opening her mouth to speak, but Everton James interrupted her.  
CORALINE
Value, yes, but...


"He was asking about Yink," Everton said. "Last night in the inn." Coraline glanced over, so he added, "It was after you'd took over the bar for the night."
She sighs.


"Huh," she said, then she remembered. "Yink, that the guy who keeps asking what day it is?"
DAVIS
You can't fully hold the god responsible for the actions of his followers.


"That's the one," Everton said.
CORALINE
They've been very consistent.


Gwynne sniffed. "Been like that for years, Yink has."
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?


"Does ''he'' know that?" Edine asked. "Does he care?"
CORALINE
Gods, no.


"Do we care?" Naran asked.
DAVIS
I'm so sorry. I didn't mean...


The others looked at him.
CORALINE
Davis. It's okay. You're right.


Naran shrugged slightly. "What? Might as well put it out there. The guy's nuts. Useless. Can't even help himself. We don't even know if he'd be happier dead."
DAVIS
Kyrule doesn't want you dead. If he did, you would be, despite all our efforts. Trust in that?


"That shouldn't be our decision," Davis said, though his graveness was undermined by his also choosing that moment to try to surreptitiously nab another cake.
Coraline shakes her head, smiling confusedly.


"Doesn't matter," Merlijn said. "Yink isn't a Carrier, so this Dalric'll just have to keep looking. The more goes on, the more'll die."
Davis winces and goes onto the next shrine.


"But what if he is?" Naran asked. "Or what if someone else is, and we just don't know it?"
Coraline plods over to the statue.


"We'd be fucked," Merlijn said. He didn't even bother excusing himself this time.
STATUE OF AZORRES
Have you considered what you will do from here?


"No, Naran's right," Coraline said. "Why is he here, of all places? And is there anything we can do at this point, or should we just wait and see what happens?"
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?


Davis shook his head warningly. "See what, if people start dying?"
STATUE OF AZORRES
Yes.


Coraline looked him straight in the eye, and said, "I don't know."
CORALINE
Oh.


He sighed and ate his cake unhappily.
STATUE OF AZORRES
Were you really considering this?


Granny Höhrmann, an elder sitting in a rocking chair in the corner with a cup of tea, belched. She rarely said anything, but when she did it was well worth hearing, so this drew most of the eyes in the room.  
CORALINE
Not particularly, but if I don't do something soon I might not be able to stop it, either.


She continued to say nothing and just sat there rocking, looking at her tea.
STATUE OF AZORRES
There is a distinction between causing something and failing to stop it.


The eyes in the room slowly drifted back to Coraline. She grimaced. She had nothing, at least not that she wanted to share.
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.


"Lyra," Moira began, addressing Coraline, "What did you do before you came to Molstead?"
Jess comes over to the statue as well, kneeling before it.


"Not much," she said. Oddly this was the first time anyone in town had directly asked. "I used to travel a lot, and before that I studied at university."
STATUE OF AZORRES
Rise, dear child. You will always find solace here.


"Azorres said you carry the Deathgod's coin." Davis said. "For what did Kyrule grant his boon?"
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?


They were all too focussed on her. She needed a way to deflect. They couldn't know what had happened, what she had done, how when she'd taken the coin in that desecrated temple, the voices had begun.
STATUE OF AZORRES
I did.


She had tried to use a knife instead of her staff. Like she had thought it'd work better to kill a person hands-on, or something. It hadn't. There'd been blood everywhere, on her hands, her hair, her coat. Black was the best colour, but it dried brown and flaked off for days...
CORALINE
Normally I'd argue, but... yeah.
(to the statue)
Why didn't you just tell me where she was?


"Lyra?" Davis said, startling her.
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 jumped. "I... I don't know," she said finally. "I wish I could say it was relevant, or it was something that could help us here, but I don't even know what happened."
</screenplay>


Davis frowned over another cake, considering.
=== Gog handling ===


"It's been two years," Gwynne said, looking at Davis. "And she's done nothing but good for the town. Let her alone, she probably ''came here'' to get away from all that."
<screenplay>


Coraline nodded, staring at her feet.
INT. Molstead inn - morning


"Okay," Moira said. "So what have we got, then?"
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.


"Um, excuse me." Erik, one of Edine's sons, was standing in the doorway. "There's been a murder," he said.
CORALINE
Nnnrgh.


"Yink?" Gwynne asked suspiciously.
The polite dingling of the bell contrapture repeats, and Coraline suddenly realises what it is, attempts to get up, and falls out of bed.


"Yeah," Erik said.
CORALINE
(yelling from the floor)
Coming, give me a moment!


Gwynne winced. "Well, that was quick."


Erik frowned.


"What happened?" Merlijn asked, standing.
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.


Erik shook his head. "Feldman found him in his shed." Feldman's shed was generally empty and unused, probably due to the vaguely cow-shaped hole in the roof that made it slightly less than useful as a storage shed. Even on a day like this, it would have been a good isolated place to take someone out of sight.
The spare gog has cocooned itself on the hazard table sticking out of the ceiling. An argument is happening outside the main door.


"Was Dalric there?" Moira asked. "The hunter."
The elf is again sitting at the bar, waiting primly.


Erik shook his head. "No sign of him, though I don't doubt he did it. Yink's throat was slit and this was... there." He held out a soul gem. It was glowing slightly.
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.


"That's not a Carrier," Granny Höhrmann said from her rocker. "The soul gem's white. And your boy wants us to know."
The elf pulls out a piece of bread, sniffs it deeply, and smiles serenely, closing his eyes.


"What, that he messed up?" Everton said.
Coraline grabs her weapons again and grumps over to the door and tries to open it.


"That there will be more," Coraline corrected. "He's going to find it whether it exists or not."
Coraline tries to open the door again.


"Okay!" Merlijn announced, raising his hand. "Who all thinks we have a Carrier here?"
Behind her, the gog reaches out and holds a sign off the hanging table. The sign says, 'rote system'.


Everyone looked around. Nobody raised their hand.
Coraline kicks the door, mostly out of sheer annoyance.


Merlijn nodded. "Yeah," he said, putting his hand back down. "So. Not knowing the first thing about any of us, who do we expect this guy is going to go after next?"
JESS
(yelling from outside)
Lyra? You in there?


"Oh gods," Gwynne said, horrified. "Nolan!"
CORALINE
(yelling back)
Yeah, what's wrong with the door and why aren't you in here?!


Davis put down his cake.
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.


Nolan was still in his tree. He had a stick in his hand, a thin branch whittled down to its core, straight and even. After watching the town carefully, he was reasonably sure his hypothesis was correct. This was exactly what Kit needed. A stick.
CORALINE
Kit? What... {{idioma|voi paska}}.


He poked the stick in the direction of several random passerby. It needed runes. He was no good at runes. Runes weren't sheep.
KIT
(outside)
{{incantation|Wind fire burn!}}


Nolan slid out of the tree and scampered off.
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.


The council spent the next two hours arguing. First it was about how to protect Nolan, then what to do about the hunter in general, and what even had brought him here in the first place. Then there was the trouble of what to do about Yink, and then Davis found a tooth in one of the cakes, and a fair bit of yelling ensued.
Jess heads inside and then stops, staring at the gog on the table.


Amidst this, Merlijn gave up and left to go put some kind of protective detail on Nolan, assuming Nolan could even be found. They had, at least, established than Nolan was basically the only other Molsteader not in this room who was all that likely to be mistaken for a Carrier, so there was that.
CORALINE
Just... ignore it. I don't know.


Gwynne went with him.
The gog holds out a sign that says, 'hangover'. The sign is right-side-up for a change.


At some point Coraline also just gave up and had at the whiskey and proceeded to pay no attention whatsoever.
CORALINE
Get it some coffee maybe?


Granny Höhrmann rocked idly, knitting.
Jess gives Coraline a confused look.


Edine yelled stuff.
Coraline shrugs blankly.


Davis yelled stuff.
KIT
So. Gogs?


Naran said something in a completely normal tone of voice which was quickly drowned out by Everton yelling stuff.
CORALINE
Gogs.


Moira looked irked.
Coraline picks up Agata and hangs the cat around her neck like a very warm, stuffy, purring scarf.


Coraline offered her some whiskey.


A bit later, Moira was a bit less irked.
EXT. Elven ruins - morning


Coraline sat back in a happy drunken buzz and petted Agata.
Erry runs out into the ruins first and climbs up a particularly upright chunk of wall. Nolan climbs after her not long after.


Edine yelled some more.
Kit, Jora, and Coraline all walk in like normal people.


Everton yelled at her.
Agata walks in a bit behind them, peering about.


Davis and Edine yelled right back.
KIT
I think I see where the gogs are.


There was more yelling.
CORALINE
Yup.


Coraline got up, set her whiskey on fire, and dropped it on the coffee table.


The yelling stopped.
INT. Gog tunnels - morning


"Oops," Coraline said.
The tunnels are empty. There is no sign of any gogs actually in the area.


The coffee table was now on fire too, the flames licking off the surface, spreading with the whiskey.
Coraline and the kids come to the tree with the hole cut through the trunk, and the door shoved in it.


Everyone just stared for a moment, then Everton grabbed a blanket. Coraline held out a hand and the fire went out almost immediately. She had no idea how she'd done it, but it'd done the trick.
CORALINE
So they did that.


"So Dalric," Coraline said slowly. "Is he under arrest, or are we just going to ignore this, or what?"
KIT
I don't get it. What possible purpose could that serve?


"He murdered someone," Edine said darkly.
ERRY
They didn't get that something has to actually hold up the tree. Or maybe they did?


"Yink," Naran corrected. "Thought he was a Carrier, got it wrong. That's what happened."
Coraline shrugs.


"And it's okay because it's Yink?" Edine asked. "Because nobody'll miss him anyhow?"
Jora stalks ahead, listening for something.


"Nobody said that," Evertone said.
NOLAN
We're coming.


"It's sort of true," Naran said placidly.
They continue on, into the tunnels themselves, and come to the circular chamber with the solitary wooden door enshrined in the centre.


Clearly they were just about to break out into argument again, so Coraline said, "Yeah, I'ma go talk to him. Sort something out." And left.
There's a rustle in the other tunnels.


Nolan strides up to the door and peers up at it.


Jora draws her sword.


Coraline didn't actually have any plans to track down Dalric. Her main plan, at this moment, was just to get back to the inn and possibly fall over. And find a toilet. She needed a toilet. Toilet, then fall over. Priorities.
Coraline readies her staff.


Whatever happened, Dalric would probably show up there again sooner or later. He'd left his stuff there, after all. And his trap. And his stuff.
Nolan puts a hand on the doorknob.


Agata jumped up and climbed onto her shoulders. "It's not going to matter tomorrow, you know," the cat said.
A shiver whispers through the webbing around and overhead. The ceiling thrums.


"Why, what's so special about tomorrow?" Coraline asked.
Nolan turns the knob.


"Or the next day," Agata supposed. "But it'll be a mess when it happens."
The walls tremble. Gogs poke out of the tunnel openings, peering in.


"Always is," Coraline mumbled.
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.


The shipment had come in when she'd been out. The inn's staff and some other folks had already mostly finished stowing it, so she just waved as she headed past, found her bed, fell over into her bed, and then nearly rolled off the other side.
Nolan closes the door.


The general background noise of the inn and town lulled her quickly into sleep.
Several more gogs tumble down to the floor.


NOLAN
I see.


The gogs all still around them. The vibrations cease. The humming quiets.


An hour later the remainder of the council had finally agreed on something. The tooth in Davis' cake had probably come from Edine's granddaughter Suzy.
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.


One of the problems with going to sleep drunk is that the sleep in question tends to not be particularly effective. It is deep and restful right up until the point where it stops being at all deep or restful, at which point the sleeper suddenly wakes up feeling absolutely miserable.
Nolan turns around slightly.


Coraline suddenly woke up feeling absolutely miserable. She was too warm. Her head hurt. Something was dripping upstairs. All in all, it was awful.
More gogs fall into the room, pushed out of the tunnels by gogs behind them.


She drank a glass of water, almost immediately felt less miserable, rolled over, and went back to sleep.
Nolan holds up a sign. It says 'Door'.


''Drip.''
Several dozen gogs all around them also hold up signs, which also say 'door'.


Coraline woke up less suddenly this time, and felt less miserable, but the voices were getting a bit louder. She drank some brandy and went back to sleep.
Nolan holds up another sign that says 'interminable darkness'.


''Drip.''
A couple of gogs hold up signs saying 'talk' and 'signs' and 'alive'.


She awoke partially, drifting out of a listless dream into a room in darkness. Something warm and catlike was curled up next to her.
Nolan holds up a sign that says 'sheep'.


Then sleep was reaching up and reclaiming her once more.
KIT
Well, that didn't last long.


''Drip.''
There is a shuffling in the tunnels.


The warm and catlike thing was Tress.
Some other gogs hold up signs saying 'open door' and 'darkness'.


''Drip.''
AGATA
Oy, human. Open that door again.


The dripping wasn't stopping.  
Nolan holds up a sign that says 'a master'.


Coraline rolled over, dislodging a cat. The cat flopped over. Another cat stared her in the face. A third was sprawled next to her.
The gogs still and lower their signs.


"Nrrrgh, cats," Coraline mumbled.
Nolan turns and opens the door again.


"Yes, hello," Agata responded from the other side of Tress. Apparently Thimble had been the one she'd dislodged from on top of her. At least she hoped it was Thimble. She suspected she actually had enough cats at this point.
The heartbeat reverberates against the dark. Echoes whisper.


"What the hell is even up there?" Coraline asked. "Dripping."
Agata sniffs at the darkness, her ears back.


Agata rumbled. Tress stuck up a paw. Coraline stared at the ceiling. Bloody ceiling. Why was she even in bed? Oh, whatever.
AGATA
Witch.
What do you see?


"You all are useless, you know," she told the cats.
CORALINE
(coming a bit closer)
Darkness, and a door with no hinges or frame.


"At least we're not drunk," Agata said.
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 went to investigate with a torch and staff weapon. She wasn't ''expecting'' anything dangerous, but sometimes they did get bogeythings and other weird crap, especially where it tended to be dark. And indeed, the whole place was dark. They'd closed up without her, which was fine, if a little unusual, but they all knew Coraline was good for it. She paid folks fair for what they did, unless it was completely ridiculous and uncalled for, but that particular incident didn't bear mentioning.
CORALINE
Eh?


Agata followed her as she made her way upstairs.
Regardless, they do.


''Drip.''
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 sound seemed to be coming from one of the guest rooms. It was probably occupied - they all were - but she poked her head in and shone her torch around regardless. Indeed, there was a guy asleep in his bed, and on the floor next to it, a bowl partially filled with water. The ceiling above it was wet, preparing another drip.
The voices whisper strangely around, distorted. Something else lingers behind.


Coraline eyeballed it for a moment and then pulled out of the room. Attic it was.
KIT
I see a frame.


She poked her way into the attic staff-first, holding the torch to its shaft such that she could aim them both about as one.
CORALINE
It's bright. Alive. There's something... familiar...


All in all, the attic seemed to be an attic. Nothing moved besides Agata, who trotted inside and poked about, investigating this and that. Coraline stepped inside and checked the objects in corners, but it all just seemed to be boxes, dust, bits of insulation. Some logs. A random pile of shoes, almost as tall as she was, that made no sense but had come with the place when she'd bought it.
Kit opens his eyes.


The dripping would have been coming from the far end, so she headed over thataway, in the meantime advancing slowly, checking behind boxes as she went, listening for anything unusual. A spent mousetrap here. Shadows that jumped away when she pointed at them. Decorations for Wintersday, leering from the wall, sparkly and bright, but coated in dust and gloom. A broken walking chair. A well.
KIT
It hears us. Feels us.


There was some shouting from outside, but in here the voices were muffled and indistinct. She ignored them and focussed on the well.
Agata hisses.


It looked like a well, at least. Traditional style water well, circular, about a metre across, stone walls rising about half a metre up out of the attic floor, a bucket with a whole lot of rope tied to it sitting on the floor nearby in a small puddle. Except this was an attic.
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...


This made no sense whatsoever.
Erry collapses behind them.


Agata hopped onto the edge and peered down, and for lack of any better idea, Coraline leaned over and did the same, shining down her torch into its depths.
Jora hurries over to Erry.


It was deep. Very deep. Far deeper than the room below it, and yet the room below had shown no indication of having had a well dug through it in the slightest.
Nolan shoves at the door, but it doesn't close.


They couldn't see the bottom even with the torch.
KIT
{{incantation|I hear...}}


Coraline and Agata exchanged glances, and even Agata looked confused.
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.


Finally, Coraline said, "It's a well."
The frame begins to unravel, and she finishes it, slicing it to pieces with the bladed wings.


Agata sat down and said, "Apparently."
The brightness fades. The voices return to normal.


"In the attic," Coraline added.
Coraline opens her eyes.


"Yes," Agata agreed.
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.


"What," Coraline said.
Hundreds of gogs stare silently.


She looked down the well again, but it just looked like a deep well. Deep, round, and fairly tubular.
Nolan holds up a sign that says 'irrelevant'.


This called for fire. She looked around, grabbed a random piece of wood, stared at it in general annoyance, stared at it some more, smacked it on the edge of the well a few times and then gave it a grumpy look.
NOLAN
You don't need to open doors. You need paper and a purpose. I will teach you.


The piece of wood resolutely refrained from bursting into flame.
Nolan walks over to a seemingly random gog tunnel and stares at the gogs occupying it.


Coraline continued to look at it grumpily for a bit, then said, "Phbbt."
One of them holds up a sign uncertainly: 'forward'.


A merry flame danced out of the wood.
Coraline glances over to Agata, who simply sits watching.


Sometimes Coraline really, really wished she knew how she did this, and this was one of those times.
CORALINE
What was that?


She gave the wood a moment to get more thoroughly on fire, then leaned over the well again and dropped it in. It fell a few dozen metres, illuminating the walls as it went, then hit water and went out with a dull, echoey splash.
AGATA
A teaching moment.


"Huh," Coraline said.
Kit gets up, looking confused.


Agata's ears perked up. "Someone's coming," she whispered.
KIT
What? Erry?


Coraline pointed the torch and staff back toward the doorway. It was Dalric. He had a sword out, but reached up to shade his eyes from the beam with his other hand.
JORA
She's alive, but unconscious.


"Lyra?" he called out. "Is that you?"
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.


"Stay put and don't you try anything," Coraline said warningly.
Nolan heads into the cleared tunnel.


Dalric smiled. "It's just me, relax" he said, putting his sword away. For the moment he stayed put. "Is there something the matter?"
JORA
Get your sister back to town.


She eyed him suspiciously, then asked Agata, much more quietly, "Did the council ever get anyone to talk to him?"
Jora hurries after Nolan.


"Nope," the cat said. "It's still all on you to sort this out."
KIT
I suppose we can just let him do his thing.


"Buggrit," Coraline muttered. Then she addressed the hunter again: "You have some answering to do, and it may as well be here as anywhere. Why did you come to Molstead?"
Kit peers after them longingly.


"You know why I'm here." His eyes seemed to linger on her staff entirely too long.
CORALINE
Oh, just go. See what happens, blow everything up if you have to. I'll take care of your sister.


"No, I really don't," Coraline said. "You seem to think there is a Carrier here, but why? You've already found Yink wasn't, and the same would go for any of us. We've had no contact at all. So what led you here?"
Kit runs off almost immediately.


"There was a foretelling," he said, "that Molstead would be Taken and destroyed. You must know how quickly the Death passes through, how important it is to act."
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.


"Sure," she said. "When you've actually got something to act ''on''."
AGATA
Well, he clearly cares.


Dalric nodded. "I know that now. But the worst will come, I assure you, and you will need me here when it does."
CORALINE
He's what, twelve? What do you expect?
(she picks up Erry)
Ugh, she's heavy.


Coraline eyed him dubiously, but asked, "How many did you kill?"
AGATA
Or perhaps you're just weak.


"Here?" he asked. "It was only one, and you have my sincere apologies."
CORALINE
I'm definitely weak. But she's also heavy. These are not exclusive things.


"And what are you doing up here?" she asked.
Coraline tries again, this time hoisting Erry across her shoulders in a fireman's carry.


"Heard a dripping." He said. "That's quite the staff."


Coraline sighed and finally lowered the staff. She could hardly argue about the dripping. "Turns out we've got a well in the attic." She said, shining the torch back at it. Then she eyed the puddle irritably. From the look of it, the well was mostly just sort of there for no apparent reason, and the dripping was just a side effect of the bucket. All she really needed to do to stop it was clean up the puddle. But that didn't make a whole lot of sense either.
INT. Molstead temple - late morning


Dalric came over and poked the wall of the well experimentally, then looked inside. "How far down does it go?" he asked.
Coraline pries the temple door open with a mostly free hand and sidles in.


"About 300 feet," Agata said.
Davis and Cormith are in a corner talking to their intern, KILBETH.


Dalric looked at the cat in surprise, then back in the well. "Anything in it?"
KILBETH
Are you sure about that?


"Water," Agata said.
DAVIS
Yes.


Coraline ignored them and kicked the bucket aside, sticking the head of her staff in the puddle. A moment later, it flash-evaporated into steam.
KILBETH
Are you sure you're sure?


She gave Dalric a moment to investigate the well as well, just in case he had any ideas. He didn't, so she gestured with her staff and said, "Ah, go on, shoo. Authorised personnel only, and all."
Davis turns to look at Coraline pleadingly.


Dalric smirked, then asked, "So we're good?"
CORALINE
Cormith! You're a real healer, right? Could you give me a hand with this girl?


"For now," Coraline said. "But if you get the urge to kill anyone else, it'd better not be without a really good reason. Are we clear on this?"
CORMITH
(hurrying over, looking relieved)
What seems to be the matter?


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


"Seriously, no killing," Coraline said.
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.}}


== 3: The price of a chicken ==
CORMITH
I... see. I'll see what I can do.
(casting over Erry)
{{incantation|What brains?}}


{{q|You are standing between two mirrors. Your reflection smiles, so you smile. Your reflection moves its hand, so you move yours. It takes a very long while for you to realise that this is the wrong way round.|''Fallen London''}}
Cormith carries Erry off into the next room.


The important thing about Molstead's Harvest Festival, above all else, was that it made no practical sense. That the point. They were done with the harvests, winter was coming, and all that was left was to wait it out, so they started the season off with a massive party, building up an enormous bonfire in the middle of town to light the way. And then they kept partying for as long as they could keep the bonfire going.
CORALINE
Great. In the meantime I think I'm going to get myself reacquainted with your floor.


Eventually the momentum wore off, the fire went out, and things went back to quasi-normal, and the townsfolk tended to spend a few weeks going around repairing everything before the snows arrived.
Coraline lies down heavily on the floor, sprawling across the stone.


Then Wintersday happened and the party started up again, this time decorating everything with ridiculous colours and ribbons and bells, and putting up a massive painted sparkly tree in the middle of town.  
CORALINE
(mumbling)
Hello, floor. You're a nice floor.


The Wintersday festivities lasted until the tree fell down under the weight of the snow. In the two winters Coraline had been here, it had lasted thirteen days one year, and an entire two days the second.
Davis looms overhead.
After that there were inevitably another few weeks of downtime, punctuated by annoying amounts of snow falling out of the sky.


When the snow melted, it was time for the Festival of Renewal. This, too, was a massive party, and for this they built another bonfire, mostly because they could, and partly because it was usually still quite nippy and this generally kept any new snow out of the square.
DAVIS
Are, um, are you all right?


Then the party ended and it was planting time.
Kilbeth looms from the other side.


They had a Midsummer's Day festival too.
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.


Basically they just really liked to party, and since they could, they did.
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.


The first day of any festival was always the loudest, and today was no different. The daytime belonged primarily to the children, and to those who acted like children, and they ran around shooting off rockets, doing scavenger hunts, dressing up as monsters, and eating everything in sight.
CORALINE
Well, I ''was'', back when I could actually breathe!


While this was going on, the town council held a small funeral for Yink, mostly because this resulted in everyone else leaving them alone for the duration, which gave them a chance to talk in momentary peace.
Davis picks up Agata.


Since they were there, Coraline said some words: "He was really annoying and we never even found out what happened to him. That's kind of sad." She looked around. "What, it is."
Coraline very hastily gets up and then nearly falls over again immediately after, grabbing Davis' arm to stabilise herself.


"Yes," Edine said.
DAVIS
(sounding very concerned)
Are you sure you're all right?


"What about Dalric?" Everton asked.
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?


Coraline shrugged. "Apparently there was some sort of foretelling that led him here, and he just acted too soon. Meantime he's promised not to kill anyone else, and I'm inclined to buy it for now, though we probably still want to try to keep eyes on him."
DAVIS
There are stories of Gateways opening to other realms. Often the entities beyond them are less than friendly.


They all supposed that made sense for the time being. While they were at it, they agreed on some other things, too. Best keep the militia alert (or at least not totally drunk, if they were going to be reasonable here). Don't alarm the townsfolk. Don't over-inebriate anyone. Keep the bonfire from getting too big. Avoid flinging cows. Anyone setting off really big fireworks should remain conscious while setting off really big fireworks.
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.


For some reason they all looked pointedly at Coraline for the last few of these.
DAVIS
The heartbeat or the door?


CORALINE
The... door.


Davis nods slowly.


Meanwhile, in the woods, a bear was eating grass. It was good grass, and these were good woods, and all in all, the bear, assuming it even was a bear, was quite content to keep at it all day.


Cerrisian bears, or at least the Cerrisian equivalent of bears, were large, fat, and antlered, with enormous claws and alarming teeth. Like any bear, they ate passing fauna. Like a moose, they ate various flora. Like a goat, they ate just about anything else, too. They were, all in all, quite dangerous, and they filled the deep, dark woods north of Molstead like the dragons out of a bedtime story, though in reality the dragons tended to be more to the east, in the mountains.
EXT. Granny Höhrmann's place - noonish


There was a noise behind it. The bear looked about, peering into the nearby gloom with its beady eyes. One of them suddenly had an arrow in it.
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.


The bear stood there for a bit. Then it fell over. Then it died. Then it got dragged back to camp, skinned, gutted, butchered, and hung.
Coraline wanders over and knocks on the front door, Agata slung under an arm.


Soldiers were all about, waiting around, horses set to graze, equipment dropped to the ground. Even so, the camp was very temporary, ready to pick up and move at a moment's notice. The men spoke in hushed voices, gambled, traded stories. No fires were lit. The food was all eaten cold.
There's no response.


The bear meat was simply stowed for later.
Coraline heads around back. Agata hangs limply.


Amidst this, two priests were arguing. Doranis was saying, "This is a bad idea. Have I mentioned that?"
GRANNY HÖHRMANN is sitting under a tree with a cat on her lap. They appear to be having a staring contest.


His companion, Edric, answered, "Yes. You've mentioned that."
Coraline walks over and stares at both of them for a bit.


"Well, this is a bad idea," Doranis went on.
CORALINE
(finally)
What are you doing?


"Okay," Edric said tiredly.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
Arguing with my cat.


"Seriously, this is a bad idea," Doranis insisted.
AGATA
Are you winning?


"Yes," Edric said again. "You've said."
Granny Höhrmann looks up in surprise at Agata and squints a bit.


"Well, it is," Doranis said.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
Mad Anna's cat, isn't it?


Another guy came up behind them, saying brusquely, "Will you shut up?" This was Nurunn, the Deathdealer leading the operation.
AGATA
Not anymore.


"Sure," Doranis said amiably, and, for the time being, shut up.
CORALINE
So you know each other?


Nurunn nodded. He was tall and muscular, and an experienced warrior, but he knew well the importance in what they were doing, and like the priests, he too was concerned. One slip could mean disaster, but if they did succeed, it would take them one step closer to fighting the Death of Souls. And some day even, perhaps, to finding a cure and ending it outright.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
Knew Mad Anna.


"We're up," he told the others, and a moment later a scout rode into camp.
CORALINE
What about her cat?


The scout said pulled up, confirming, "It's a go."
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
Might be it.


Immediately the soldiers burst into activity, picking everything up, mounting their own horses, and readying to head out in the space of a couple minutes.
CORALINE
She says I'm a witch.


Nurunn and the two priests led the advance, following the scout closely behind. Unlike the majority, they remained on foot.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
Might be.


It was about ten minutes to the site, easy going, little foliage in the way. Several other scouting parties rejoined them as they went.
There's a long silence as Granny Hörmann goes back to staring at her cat.


The ring of soldiers parted to allow Nurunn and the priests in. Everyone else spread out around them. They could allow no chance of escape.
CORALINE
So... who's winning the argument?


The Carrier was pinned down by several layers of netting, staked to the ground and several trees, with a pair of soldiers sitting on top of it with crossbows to the guy's head. His hands and feet were tied, too, but even so he struggled mightily, twisting against the rope, pulling at the netting, hissing and spitting. His wild eyes were pure black, and they bulged as he strained against the netting, but for all his efforts he could achieve nothing. Every soldier here carried a soulstone next to his heart.
Granny Höhrmann frowns.


"Huh," Edric said.
AGATA
Apparently the cat.


"Well, he's really far gone," Doranis pointed out, then tapped his own soulstone just to be sure it was still there.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
What do you think, Samaritan?


Edric scowled. "Will this even work at this point?" he asked.
Granny Höhrmann's cat, SAMARITAN, turns to regard Coraline and Agata.


"That's what we're here to find out," Nurunn said.
SAMARITAN
(yawning)
What is it, then? What are your knacks?


Doranis nodded and cast a soulbinding on the Carrier, his fingers weaving the motions of the spell. It was normally wizard magic, but the gods could grant their priests many things, and when he was done he gestured to Nurunn that the guy in the netting was all his.
CORALINE
My what, now?


Nurunn gave him an unamused look, then practically sat on the Carrier in an effort to pin him down, winding up with an arm across the chest, and the maddened face mere inches from his own. The two soldiers shuffled a bit to help, but didn't get any closer, nor did they relax their aim.
SAMARITAN
You're a witch, you got knacks. What are you good at?


"Edric," Nurunn commanded.
Coraline glances at Agata.


The priest passed him a small pendant, and Nurunn pressed its amulet to the Carrier's neck. Immediately the guy stopped struggling, collapsing back to the forest floor, and the Deathdealer took this opportunity to slip the chain through the netting and firmly clasp around around the guy's neck.  
AGATA
Drinking, mostly.


For a moment the Carrier simply lay there. Then his eyes began to clear, not entirely, not enough for colour to reappear, but enough that whites were showing, at least, and he stared vaguely upward, not really at Nurunn nor apparently at anything.
CORALINE
Hitting things with heavy objects?


"Is it working?" Doranis asked.
AGATA
While drinking.


Nurunn lightly slapped the Carrier's face. "Hey," he said. "Anyone in there?"
CORALINE
Yes.


The Carrier startled, then his eyes focussed on Nuruun. "What? Where am I?" he asked.
AGATA
Possibly hitting things with objects drinking out of.


"You're safe," Nurunn said, relaxing his hold. "Can you tell me your name?"
CORALINE
I do that sometimes too.


"Kessel," he said, looking around. "Kessel of Trom." He pressed against the net. "Why am I... I'm so hungry."
AGATA
I'm not surprised.


Nurunn nodded back to the others. "It's progress," he said, getting up. He gestured Edric forward. "You'll be wanting to record the details-"
CORALINE
Still want me for a witch?


Something clinked behind him, and the Deathdealer was interrupted by an explosion of sorts, black and shadowy, full of hunger and voices. It sent him flying, swallowing up several of the nearer soldiers outright, bringing Edric to his knees, clutching his head. Doranis threw up a ward, and though it wavered, it held as the shadow subsided. Many of the surrounding soldiers fell over as well, their soulstones black, every one of them, filled and black, but a few just stood there, staring, their eyes turning colour, their minds filling with hunger and voices.
AGATA
Will you stop carrying me like a pile of logs?


Nurunn picked himself up quickly, drawing his sword, but everything was still. The captured Carrier was gone, exploded through bindings and netting alike. And now the inner-most soldiers were taken as well, those few of whom even remained standing... Nurunn dispatched them quickly, not even bothering to soulbind them, just praying it would be enough.
CORALINE
Maybe. Depends on your answer.


"You know," Doranis said, looking at his soulstone. It was empty. "I don't think that quite worked." He was wobbling a bit, but he seemed largely unaffected otherwise.
Granny Höhrmann bursts out laughing.


Nurunn checked his own, and while it was dark, it only repulsed him. It seemed he was clean as well, protected, for now, by his god-given resistance.
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.


"Soldiers, reassemble!" Nurunn called out to the ones in the surrounding woods. They needed to find this Kessel of Trom again, and quickly. But now he wasn't the only one, either. They had too many casualties, dead, and worse.
There's an awkward silence.


GRANNY HÖHRMANN
What's the matter? Spit it out.


Coraline puts down Agata.


The festival was getting weird. This wasn't surprising - it was the middle of the afternoon and anyone with a talent was running around showing off all the random things they could do - but this time, for whatever reason, the bonfire in the middle of the market square had gotten several metres high and turned bright purple, and things were getting even weirder than usual.
Samaritan jumps off Granny Höhrmann's lap and the two cats sniff at each other.


Coraline made a point to be somewhere else during the majority of this. She wound up sitting on a fence near one of the outlying farms, with Agata perched on a nearby post.
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?


It was particularly uninteresting out here, and she rather liked it that way.
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.


A small group of kids were also elsewhere. As much fun as the festival was, and as much talent as they had, today was the end of a long process of preparation, and thus Kit and Nolan were heading up an expedition into the elven ruins outside of town. It wasn't much of an expedition, as it was only four, but 'expedition' was a good word, so Kit went with it anyway, and Nolan wasn't about to argue on account of not actually caring in the first place. With them they also had Jora, who tended to act as bodyguard for their little party, and Erry, Kit's annoying little sister who just sort of followed them everywhere in spite of everything they did to try to dissuade her. Or, sometimes, precisely ''because'' of what they did to try to dissuade her.
CORALINE
And I've got a cat who is also a tool.


Their interest for the day was in the Edifice, the mysterious solitary building still standing, untouched by time and weather, at the far end of the ruins, and so they made their way there through the dry grass and shrubbery. Erry kicked at some stones. Nolan was holding his stick from the tree, and as they made their way, he examined the white stone blocks of the rest of the ruins to ensure that none of them were really sheep.
AGATA
Appropriate, for you.


"It's the centerfold," Kit said. "The last mystery. This time it will be mine."
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.


"How nice," Jora said. They were all used to Kit's monologuing. He was a wizardling, so seemed normal enough, and they didn't really care.
Samaritan stares at Agata.


"Wallets," Erry agreed.
AGATA
I chose her carefully.
Her knacks are... different. She can heal, and I bet we could kill. Anything.


They walked on.
Agata bares her teeth for a moment, and then it turns into a yawn. Samaritan yawns as well.


Jora said, idly, "They say ain't nobody's been able to open the Edifice since the Exodus."
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
(to Coraline)
And Anna was all about the fire, so you might find you've some skill with that, too, now.


"We'll be the first," Kit said. "And we have it. A mystery to unlock the mystery within."
CORALINE
And what about our snark? We get to share that, too?


"We have a stick," Nolan said. He held up the stick for emphasis. "It needs runes."
Agata's voice resonates in Coraline's mind, like the constant voices around, but different.


"It's a mysterious stick," Kit said. "A symbol of something old. Older than anything. The Torini were architects, mathematicians. They valued symbols over form, so we enter with a symbol."
AGATA
(mind voice)
''Always.


"Runes," Nolan said.
CORALINE
(mind voice)
''Agata? How... we just talk. And nobody else hears?


Erry looked at the stick carefully, and said, "It doesn't look old."
AGATA
(mind voice)
''Mostly.


"It's not," Nolan said.
Coraline stares at the cats.


And then they were there. The Edifice, big as life, almost bigger, tall and white and gleaming, carved and adorned with flowing motifs, though the basic architecture was remarkably simple. Even the door was impressive. It seemed almost to sparkle in the shadows.  
CORALINE
{{idioma|Perkele}}. I get all the worst and best things in my life. Horrid luck. Great luck.
Ghaaah.


They stopped, looked at it, looked some more, looked around, looked at it some more, and then looked at each other.
GRANNY HÖHRMANN
(nodding)
Sounds like life, that.
Go on and learn.


"Well?" Jora said. She was the oldest, and thus entitled to a little impatience. Unless that went the other way around, but as the youngest Erry was always impatient about everything anyway, so she wasn't sure that counted.
Granny Hörmann waves dismissively.


"What is it? What is it?" Erry insisted, bouncing around the front of the building.


"It's a stick," Nolan said again, and poked the door with it.
INT. Molstead Inn - afternoon


Nothing happened.
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.


"Here," Kit said, motioning for Nolan to hand over the stick. He did.
Agata watches from a shelf.


Kit held it aloft like a wand and pointed it about in various arcane-looking motions, generally directed at the door.
CORALINE
(mind voice)
''Agata?


Nothing continued to happen.
AGATA
(mind voice)
''Yes?


He then poked the door with the stick as well, to similarly little effect.
CORALINE
(mind voice)
''Are you okay with this? With me, what I am?


The others just sort of went along with this, watching the door with interest, aside from Erry. Erry made a face and started picking her nose.
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}}?


"Boom," Nolan said. "I told you, you need runes."
CORALINE
(mind voice)
''It means a lot of things. In this case, I guess it might mean survival.


"On the stick?" Kit said sceptically.
AGATA
(mind voice)
''Yes. Your courage, your grit. Determination and focus, even against impossible odds. The hallmarks of a good witch. {{idioma|Sisukas.}}


"Yes?" Nolan said.
CORALINE
(mind voice)
''I'm going to die. I may kill a lot of others, and worse, in the process.


"What did it say in the book?" Jora asked.
AGATA
(mind voice)
''And when that happens, I'll find another witch.


Kit shook his head. "Didn't. It's secrets. Things in books aren't secrets, or they wouldn't be secrets anymore."
Coraline looks up from scooting out a table.


"Runes," Nolan repeated, ignoring the tangent entirely.
Agata peers down at her imperiously, purring, and closes her eyes.


"All right, which ones?" Kit asked, giving up.
</screenplay>
 
Nolan counted off on his fingers, remembering. "Fish. Tree. Hunger. Chaos. Hazard."
 
"Seriously?" Kit said. That combination actually made sense. But how had Nolan figured that out? That kid didn't know the first thing about magic - everything about sheep, and nothing about magic.
 
Nolan just stared at him intently, and so instead of asking, Kit quickly looked away and hastily scribbled the runes down the length of the stick.
 
"Poke it," Nolan commanded when the wizardling was done. "Poke the mysterious mystery with the stick."
 
Kit gave him a sarcastic look, but complied, and this time the magic sealing the entryway burst into brilliant sparkles before fading away once more. With a click, the door unlatched and opened slightly.
 
"Woah," he said.
 
Then Erry ran up, pushed the door open a little more, revealing an extensive mass of darkness, and very nearly ran inside before Jora grabbed her by the hood of her jacket.
 
"Hold up," Jora said. "Let your brother put a light on you first."
 
Erry pouted and held up, mostly because Jora still had a very solid grip on her jacket and it was about all she could do, while Kit cast some magelights on everyone. Then Jora let go, Erry ran inside for real this time, Kit gave Jora a worried look, and Jora simply drew her sword and marched in after.
 
The two boys exchanged looks and headed in as well.
 
The entryway was grand but simple, with a high ceiling and staircases going up and down, a pile of bones against one wall, and dust everywhere, fine, deep, and drifting. Jora was standing at the landing of the stairs up, but she glanced back when they entered, unconcerned, only snapping to alertness when the door thudded shut behind them with a dull boom, resealing itself and sparking vaguely once more. The only light now came from the orbs over their heads, filling the space with their odd glow, casting fuzzy shadows in the dust.
 
Aside from the bones, there were no signs of life, or even any light sources; where there should have been windows there was only stone, and where a lamp should have hung, only a chain dangled down, lonely and useless.
 
"Erry?" Kit called.
 
With a squeal, Erry slid down the banister and landed in a heap in from of him.
 
"Oh," Kit said disappointedly.
 
"Keep an eye on her," Jora told him. "Everyone stay together. We don't know what we'll find, or if the place might try to fall down on us now that we're inside."
 
"Where are the sheep?" Nolan asked.
 
Jora looked at him oddly, and said, "Why would there be sheep?"
 
"Kit said there might be sheep," Nolan said.
 
"There might have been a lot of things," Kit said, looking about. "That was sort of the point."
 
Nolan frowned, looking about, and then fixated on the pile of bones. "Maybe," he said slowly, "there are sheep in there."
 
 
 
By the time Nolan had finished sorting through every single bone in the pile, the others had long since given up and gone exploring without him.
 
He turned the one sheep bone he had encountered over in his hands. It was a rib, and it had been the only sheep bone in the entire pile. This was rather strange.
 
He wandered vaguely down the stairs to find the others.
 
 
 
Darkness. Everything was darkness. Shapes looming, careening, drifting in and about, but still, only darkness. He didn't know what they were. He didn't know where he was going. It didn't matter. It was only darkness, only everything, black and close, enveloping, consuming.
 
Sometimes there would be lights, and he would go to them and put them out, inviting them into the darkness, bringing them home.
 
Sometimes the shapes would fade away. Movement would stop, and he would be alone, entirely alone in the quiet, the black, the whispers tickling the edges of the void. Then the shapes would be back, and the lights would beckon, beckon, begging him onward.
 
Shapes.
 
Darkness.
 
Hunger.
 
Everything was hunger. The darkness was hunger, empty, necessary, comforting.
 
Sometimes the darkness was full of lights. Usually it was only black. Black against the dark. Dark against the black.
 
He felt it, calling to him with its silent delirious voice, so cold, so empty, so sweet and comforting, so hungry. It was so dark, so far, but so close, and his hunger paled in comparison. His darkness was so bright. He had to make it, had to get there, to join with it, before the darkness went entirely...
 
White.
 
In his single-minded purpose, the Carrier ran onward through the woods, hungering, unseeing.
 
 
 
Coraline was now sitting on a stump. She was completely drunk. Unfortunately, she was also running out. Fortunately it was evening, so she could easily get more, since this was about the time when everyone broke out the booze anyway. The day belonged to the children, but that was mostly just to tire them out for when everyone else got utterly sloshed at night.
 
She pulled herself up, nearly fell over, and was very surprised to see Agata then fall over entirely.
 
"Agata?" Coraline said.
 
Agata picked herself up very carefully before glancing over with a look of utter disbelief. "How," the cat asked, "do you even function being this drunk? How are you alive?"
 
"Uh..." Coraline said. Frankly, she wasn't entirely sure. It was... well, she didn't really know.
 
Agata put her ears back, and said, "I don't get it."
 
"Yeah?" Coraline said. "So?" She rubbed her head. Then she looked about. "I'm standing. Okay. Huh."
 
Agata grumbled and headed off, weaving along the way, nearly falling over, and Coraline followed.
 
They wound up back in town, amidst the festivities.
 
Town was utterly town-like. Coraline realised she couldn't entirely feel her fingers. They were burning.
 
In the meantime, madness ensued. Alcohol was rampant. Here, her own stores, among others, were let loose among the townsfolk - the key, at this point, was to inebriate all, regardless of fare, station, or anything at all. In her current state, Coraline couldn't entirely make heads or tails of it, but she got the gist, and she went along with it, partaking with the best of them.
 
Later, she'd lost track entirely. Jess had taken over the main, though it was all outdoors tonight. Cal and others had taken over the general distribution.
 
Coraline was so utterly out of it she didn't even know what to make of things. She couldn't focus one eye without covering the other. She nearly fell over, and wound up leaning against a patio pole.
 
The rest was a blur.
 
At some point she giggled and commented on the state of her own inebriation. Others did much the same. It was a terrible, glorious mess. She was an idiot, a moron, and wilfully so, and as much as this scared her, she didn't care. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered.
 
Time was lost, forgotten. Perception drifted in and out of focus.
 
She stood back and remembered, vaguely, what it was to live. Here, she was a moron going through her own life, but she still remembered what it is to not be a moron. She was going through the motions, but half the time the motions fail because she'd flat-out miss, so she had to keep trying until they did work... but when she eventually did get them, she just kept going, and pretended everything was normal. Except it wasn't normal,  not really. It was all different, and she couldn't even handle it, and in a way, it was utterly terrifying, but even so she pretended it's fine, because that was all she had. It had to be fine, because if it wasn't, she had nothing. Nothing at all.
 
So she drank. Drank to forget, drank to ignore, drank not just to silence the voices, but to get away from what she'd lost in the doing, to forget it all. To be free.
 
It didn't work. She lost only herself, everything she had, but she still cried out with joy, cheered on the folks, yelled for another round. There was no escape.
 
Things happened. She didn't even know. She was sure it'd be fine. It didn't matter. She did some stuff and things and didn't know what they were, but they were totally good ideas and she was sure she'd approve later, too, after she'd sobered up a bit.
 
A chicken walked through at one point. People placed bets on something or other. Some folks won. Others lost.
Meanwhile, the party soared on. Foreground and background became interchangeable because that was what happened when folks were utterly drunk.
 
At another point, Coraline said, "There is no chicken." It made perfect sense. Perfectly sensible, utterly logical. No sadness, no voices.
 
Someone else said, "It's over there. We need to eat the rest of it."
 
Something caught fire.
 
People ran about. Some of them were alarmingly short.
 
Coraline ate various things. Other people ate various things. Some were delicious. Others weren't. One wound up covered in slugs. Coraline wore one on her head, and she smiled with the sheer joy of the night.
 
Agata sat in a corner in the hopes of sleeping it all off. So long as Coraline kept drinking, this achieved nothing.
 
Coraline kept drinking.
 
Then everything went horribly wrong.
 
They didn't even realise it at first, as the yells turned to screams, but then time went on and the people who fell ceased moving.
 
The thing was, time passed weirdly when folks were drunk. It wore off weirdly. Slowly. Imperceptibly. One moment utterly out of it, the next fairly normal. It was an oddity, really... it made no sense...
 
Coraline poked the guy next to her, confused. Why was he just lying there? Why was he so still? What had happened? This wasn't supposed to happen. She closed an eye and looked at him carefully, but even that didn't entirely work.
 
She looked around. Everything was too quiet. The voices, nearly silent. The screams in the background hardly registering. It was like she was wading through darkness, only trying to see the pieces. She couldn't do it. It was all too much.
 
What was happening?
 
It was later.
 
Her head was working, at least a little bit better. There were folks on the ground, lying, not moving. The bonfire was low. Several buildings were burning, much higher than the bonfire. Coraline picked herself up slowly, swaying. The world was spinning. Agata walked over and leaned against her legs.
 
She breathed carefully, in and out, in and out. She was still drunk. Not as, but still. The screams. The voices. They sounded almost the same, distant, unimportant, all consuming. She didn't know where they were coming from, just there. Somewhere.
 
This was wrong. So wrong... so many voices...
 
 
 
On the lower level, they found an obelisk, about the height of a man, with a small hole through the top third of the obelisk. It was like another in town, except unlike the other, this one had a small orb, floating unsuspended within the hole.
 
Nolan walked in on the others, still holding the sheep rib, with, as it turned out, almost as much of an idea as any of them, aside from Kit. Kit was just staring.
 
Finally, Kit asked, "Is it real?"
 
"What is it?" Jora asked.
 
Erry ran up to it and poked the orb.
 
"Erry!" Kit yelled, and the orb pulsed slightly, an odd flare of light in this peculiar gloom, but nothing else really happened.
 
She gave it a pouty look in disappointment. "Aww, I wanted it to go shiny," she said.
 
Jora steered her away from the thing, leaving Kit and Nolan on the centre stage. Nolan gave Kit a quizzical look.
 
Kit looked it over, confused, surprised, and, even, a wee bit impressed. "It's just like the one in town," he said finally. "Except this one, I think it's one of the real ones. Active, even." He looked back to the others, and noting their confused and/or blank expressions, explained, "They were objects of power, beacons to magic users. The Torini could use them for all sorts of things, like travel to away places, because they put them up everywhere. I suppose a lot of the major cults kept up the tradition, though what we've got now are just a pale imitation."
 
"So could we use this?" Jora asked. "To travel, for instance?"
 
Kit nodded. "Aye, I think so. I'd want master Keller to look at it, of course."
 
"Boom," Nolan said.
 
"Something to come back to, then," Jora said, smiling. Kit looked confused, so she gestured upwards. "It's late. We should get back anyhow."
 
 
 
The door gave them no resistance from the inside, simply opening at a touch and allowing them out.
 
"Look," Jora said, pointing. The fire was tall, and they could see its glare easily over the trees. But it wasn't right, she realised. It was too big, from here. Too wide. Too much of a glow, like the glow of her own village had been, so long ago, and she put a restraining hand on Nolan, mostly because he'd wound up right in front of her.
 
He looked back, confused, and then, seeing her expression, poked Kit.
 
"It's too much fire," Jora said vacantly. "Too much."
 
"Erry," Kit said, "Let's play a game. Let's go back inside." He glanced back to Jora, who finally snapped out of it and nodded, and then guided Erry back into the ancient elven building. Nolan, meanwhile, headed back toward town, toward that horrible glow, and Jora followed, the dread filling her like a terrible fish, swimming upward and upward, drowning her, almost, in its foreboding.
 
They heard the sounds before they actually saw what had happened.
 
= Heap of disorganised pieces =
 
Don't read this.
<div class="heap-toc">{{#toc: 1}}</div>
 
 
Seriously, don't read it.
 
== Part 4 holding cell ==
 
=== 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>
 
 
=== 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."
 
=== 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.
 
=== 7-foot tall purple guy ===
 
I dunno what I expected. It doesn't matter now.
 
He showed up on my doorstep one evening. Rang the doorbell. When I opened the door, stood there like it was perfectly normal for a 7-foot-tall purple guy to be ringing up a flat in the middle of Turku. I joked about this, and he joked about something else and invited me to tea. I asked whereabouts that might be. He smiled and told me to take his hand.
 
Then we were somewhere else.
 
He told me his name was Sherandris, but people usually called him Grom. I asked what kind of name that was, and he said, "Short."
 
 
=== 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."
 
=== Trusted ===
 
"What do you think," Coraline began slowly. "Can Kyrule be trusted?"
 
"Trusted?" Vardaman asked.
 
Coraline shook her head. "Suppose someone gave him the worlds. All the worlds, to do with whatever he pleased, no other gods or obstacles in his way. What would he do with them?"
 
He looked at her skeptically for a moment, then shrugged. "Not much, I guess. Let things play out. Keep them from getting too out of control, if it comes to it."
 
She nodded, but then pressed, "Why do you say that?"
 
"Because I have a secret portal into the depths of his mind," Vardaman said sarcastically. "It's something all priests get, and it tells us what our gods will do in any given situation."
 
"I'm serious," Coraline said. "I'd just like to know your reasoning."
 
"Why? So you can tell all your grandkids?"
 
"Because I need to name a King," Coraline said, then immediately wondered why the hell she'd said it. A King?
 
"A King?" Vardaman said.
 
She didn't answer. They sat in silence. Vardaman went back to his shalott.
 
Coraline thought it over. It made a strange sort of sense, whatever it was. These worlds needed a King. They needed someone who could be trusted, and who could watch them over. They needed... something. She didn't know quite what, but it didn't matter now.
 
=== Take 1: Beginning ===
 
{{c|''There are consequences to every choice.
 
''There is sacrifice in every promise.
 
''There are toasters in the cat.}}
 
 
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.
 
==== 0: Forward and on ====
 
===== Begin =====
 
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.
 
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?
 
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.
 
And the whole conversation, the whole night and day before that she remembered, why, that was probably just a dream...
 
Probably? So where the hell was she, then?
 
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.
 
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.
 
She got up, despite the protestations of her stiff limbs, and picked up the staff. Here she was, then, wherever here was.
 
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.
 
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?
 
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.
 
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.
 
"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.
 
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.
 
===== River and road =====
 
Days passed and turned into weeks.
 
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.
 
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.
 
She considered a deer, but had no idea what she would have done with it all.
 
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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
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...
 
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?
 
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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
They looked human, the dead.
 
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.
 
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.
 
What had happened? What was wrong with the place? Was it wrong with the world? But there were no answers.
 
She strayed no more from the road.
 
===== Mountains =====
 
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.
 
Shapes flickered and danced in the fire, babbling to themselves, as she watched and drifted into sleep, into Nightmare.
 
===== Elves =====
 
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.
 
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.
 
Then one noticed her and stood.
 
"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.
 
"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.
 
"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."
 
"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?
 
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."
 
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.
 
He just shook his head.
 
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.
 
She gave the reddened skin next to the hole a quick jab. The man moaned as a smaller amount of pus came out.
 
"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.
 
"Thank you," the other said, handing Coraline the cap. "Not many would stop and help elves."
 
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...?"
 
The elf looked away, unable to meet her eyes. "You're headed that way, then?"
 
"Looks like."
 
"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."
 
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.
 
"Don't go," the woman said. "A kind heart does not bear to witness."
 
"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.
 
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.
 
What was, though?
 
==== 1: Kalona ====
 
===== Empty town =====
 
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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
This was much more interesting, she realised, skirting around the nearest body.
 
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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
All these homes, but nobody here would ever come back.
 
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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
Surely normally they just died at that point?
 
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.
 
He hadn't noticed her. She moved closer, but pointed the staff at him all the same.
 
"Hello?" she called to him. "Can you hear me?"
 
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.
 
She took a step backwards, but somehow kept the staff level.
 
He leapt.
 
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.
 
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.
 
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?
 
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.
 
This was happening.
 
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.
 
For whatever reason, it made her nervous - more than she already was.
 
She pulled the door open quickly, propping it with a foot and shining staff and torch into the gloom in one decisive motion.
 
===== Temple =====
 
It was a temple.
 
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.
 
Coraline walked slowly down the aisle, shining her light into the gloom, but passing the faces by. The statue was the important thing.
 
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 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.
 
"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.
 
"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..."
 
"So it is. The lands have fallen," the priestess said. "It's the world's end, and nobody will remember. Just the end."
 
"What happened?" Coraline asked again.
 
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."
 
"But how could you have?" Coraline asked.
 
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.
 
Finally, the priestess turned back to her and said quietly, "I would ask something of you. A favour."
 
"What?"
 
"Kill me," the priestess said.
 
Coraline stared at her. "But... why?"
 
"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."
 
"But..." Coraline protested protestingly.
 
The priestess turned away. "I'm sorry. It was too much to ask."
 
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?
 
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?
 
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.
 
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.
 
She pocketed it quickly and backed away.
 
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.
 
==== 2: The Light and the Dark ====
 
===== Aeries =====
 
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.
 
She couldn't go back, however, so on she went.
 
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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
"Heya!" the older one called.
 
"Hey," Coraline said, pulling off her hat and unzipping her coat. It was quite warm in here.
 
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?"
 
She looked at them askance. "Wizard?"
 
"You gots a staff," he said. "And you ain't from around here. Ain't ye a wizard?"
 
"Mayhap." Coraline said. "You take trades?"
 
The young man glanced toward the other, who nodded. "Sure," he said.
 
Coraline suddenly realised they were probably father and son. "Excellent," she said.
 
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.
 
"Thanks for yer... er... what?" the son said.
 
"Custom, son," the father said.
 
He turned red and tried to back away through the wall, which didn't actually work. "Right," he said, looking pointedly away.
 
Coraline bowed slightly at them as she headed out the door, trying to cover her grin.
 
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.
 
They probably had. People had rarely seen Coraline coming even in her own world.
 
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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
"Death," the dealer said. The card had a fairly traditional, though masked, Grim Reaper on it.
 
"Good," the other said.
 
"No," the dealer said. "That's not good." One of the on-lookers put his head in his hands.
 
"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."
 
Everyone just sort of stared at her, and suddenly she realised this probably was not actually Tarot-related.
 
"But that's just one interpretation, of course..." she said quickly.
 
"Death is death," the dealer said.
 
"We who were living are now dying, with a little patience?" Coraline suggested.
 
"Yes," the player said, staring at the card.
 
"No," someone in the audience said, much more forcefully.
 
"Oh." Coraline looked around. "So... what, then?"
 
"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."
 
"No, I don't think so," the dealer said.
 
"No?" the robed man said.
 
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.
 
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.
 
Oops.
 
"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.
 
"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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
In the meantime, the path beckoned, hooves clomped, and distance passed as Coraline jumped and fell into the rhythms of the saddle.
 
===== Party =====
 
"You were right, you know," the robed man yelled to her once they'd slowed down a good distance from the village.
 
"What?"
 
He nudged his horse back towards her, and said more normally, "The Death card does mean change."
 
"So why didn't they know that, then?" she shouted back.
 
"Oh, you know," he said. "It's practically the end of the world out here. Folks have their superstitions and paranoias. Makes them happy."
 
"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.
 
The robed man, however, got the message and caught up with the other fellow's horse and pulled it back onto the path.
 
Oh blimey, Coraline thought to herself.
 
 
 
They continued until around nightfall, stopping in a small hollow as the fogs set in.
 
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.
 
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.
 
Coraline watched him try a few more times and then just stood up and shot the kindling with her staff.
 
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.
 
"So," she said.
 
"So," he said.
 
"Who, exactly, are you people?" she asked.
 
The man smiled nervously. "Well, I'm Darren Costa." He gestured toward the other fellow. "This is Merrs."
 
Coraline said, "Hi."
 
"Hi," Costa said.
 
Merrs said nothing, and simply stared into the fire, or possibly through it. It was hard to tell.
 
"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.
 
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."
 
"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."
 
"Erm." Now he looked really flustered.
 
She looked at him with growing amusement. She couldn't help it. "You stole the horse, didn't you?"
 
"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!"
 
"Yeah, whatever," Coraline said. "So you stole a horse. Not exactly a mortal sin, is it?"
 
"Well..."
 
"No," Merrs said. "To save an innocent, a theft is hardly mortal sin."
 
"Innocent, are you?" Coraline said.
 
Merrs simply stared at her, or possibly through her.
 
Costa looked away, but all the same he nodded. He looked relieved.
 
Strange people, Coraline thought to herself as they sorted out dinner. Gnawing on some dried fruit, she poked for stories.
 
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.
 
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.
 
The night settled like velvet.
 
Costa watched the east, back the way they had come, though in the fog there was nothing to see.
 
Merrs twirled a knife. It glinted in the light from the fire, but the effect was dulled by the fog.
 
The flames danced and cackled, ushering Coraline into Nightmare.
 
===== Cross-country =====
 
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.
 
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.
 
There was little to say, and less energy with which to say it. Merrs tried to wander off a few more times.
 
Coraline asked Costa why he didn't just tie the guy down. Put him on a leash or something.
 
"It would be wrong," he said. "There has been too much of that already."
 
He would say no more on it.
 
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.
 
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.
 
The rain erased all.
 
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.
 
She shook her head and made an excuse. Later, she said. She was trying to dry her coat.
 
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.
 
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.
 
Perhaps she ''would'' say she was from somewhere in the vicinity of Betelgeuse.
 
She flipped the unusual coin and caught it on her hand. Skull side up, masked like the Reaper. It felt like death.
 
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.
 
"Gee, thanks," Coraline said, but despite her tone, she found herself smiling, and noticed Merrs was as well.
 
Costa looked embarrassed. "Er," he said, "I didn't mean it like that."
 
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.
 
"You're not from the outer planes, are you?" Costa asked as he gave the now empty pan back to Coraline.
 
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.
 
Costa went to pack up and ready the horses, and Coraline realised that Merrs' was staring at her.
 
"Something on my nose?" she asked it. It looked away.
 
They were soon on the move once more.
 
===== Bandits =====
 
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.
 
It was almost warm. Merrs drew well ahead, but Costa let him; he was headed in the right direction and the visibility was excellent.
 
"So Costa," Coraline said, "what's your story, anyhow?"
 
He gave her a calculating look, then said, "Buh."
 
 
====== Nargle ======
 
 
"I'm a priest of Azorres."
 
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.
 
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."
 
Well, that answered the first question, at least. "Why not?" she asked. "Biased or not, you'd probably know more than most, at least."
 
"Well," he said, "let's just say I'm not the sort of priest who goes out preaching to the masses."
 
"So what do you do?"
 
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."
 
They rode in silence for a moment, then it hit her like a brick through mud, which is to say very, very slowly. "Merrs?"
 
"So it would seem."
 
"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?"
 
"Agh!" Costa yelled, and drove his horse forward.
 
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.
 
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.
 
"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!"
 
"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.
 
For some reason Merrs' was still just standing there.
 
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.
 
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.
 
"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.
 
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.
 
=== Hurk ===
 
 
 
 
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.
 
She sat up, rubbing her head.
 
"Darren's still trying to find your horse," Merrs said beside her. She started; she hadn't realised he was there.
 
"What..." she began, then stopped. "Oh. Are you okay?"
 
"No worse for wear," he said, closing his eyes. "It is a rare gift you have."
 
"Gift?"
 
"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?"
 
"No gods," Coraline said wearily, then stopped. "Unless you mean... literally?"
 
He raised an eyebrow.
 
"Er," she said. "Nevermind."
 
He smiled. "Oh, but you are a mystery."
 
"I could say the same of you," Coraline muttered.
 
Merrs said nothing, and simply looked away.
 
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?
 
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.
 
Then her mental defenses kicked in and she found herself thinking about bunnies. Cute, fluffy, village-eating bunnies. Because bunnies were nice and scary.
 
She realised the coin was in her hand, so she flipped it. Skull-side up. Death. Like what happens around bunnies.
 
 
 
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.
 
Coraline stared for a moment in surprise. She realised Merrs, too, was staring, and snapped out of it, going to help Costa up.
 
"I'm fine," he said, shoing her away tiredly. "We're all fine. Thanks to you."
 
"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.
 
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?"
 
"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.
 
"I'm kidding," Costa said. "That's fine. Travel food doesn't really need... ungh." He slumped forward.
 
Coraline shook her head bemusedly. "Damn, man, you really are tired, aren't you."
 
"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..."
 
Merrs looked at Costa with that same unreadable expression. He seemed almost concerned, however. Almost.
 
"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."
 
He nodded gratefully and did as she said. Didn't think, just passed the bag and stared into the fire.
 
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.
 
She realised Merrs was watching her again, and passed out dinner.
 
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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
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.
 
She flipped it. Death.
 
Flipped it again. Death.
 
Again. Death.
 
Death.
 
Death.
 
Might as well be jelly and ice cream, she supposed.
 
 
 
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.
 
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.
 
"Gloria," Costa said when she brought this up, "Shut up."
 
She didn't have a counterpoint prepared for such a sophisticated argument.
 
"Let's walk," Merrs said. "It's nice enough. Might as well."
 
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...?
 
"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..."
 
"Dead," she said. "All dead."
 
He sighed, but looked concerned. "Then the rumours are true. The madness came and went?"
 
Coraline nodded. She couldn't really bring herself to say anything.
 
Merrs said nothing as well.
 
"What did you see?" Costa asked.
 
"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.
 
==== Descent ====
 
Later, there was another thumphk behind them.
 
"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.
 
She didn't go back to investigate.
 
 
 
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.
 
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.
 
She fiddled with her coin from time to time. Untended fields drifted in and out of view. Birds shrieked as they passed.
 
The day settled in silence and died as they made camp. Shadows painted the night amidst a chittering of insects. It sounded like spring.
 
They continued on. Mornings, evenings, afternoons.
 
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.
 
"Sorry," she said. "Reflex."
 
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?
 
=== 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>
 
=== Some pub after the madness ===
<screenplay>
EXT. Sidewalk outside some pub - Night
 
Light and laughter drifts out. It is a busy night. Perhaps they all are.
 
Coraline is standing outside, not quite nearby, hesitant to enter. She glances toward the pub and back again. Then a couple turns into the street down the road, and she finally ducks inside to avoid them.
 
 
INT. Pub
 
The inside is well-lit with lanterns, but full of smoke. The place is fairly full - folks are around tables, at the bar, and generally conversating and having a good time.
 
Coraline drifts to the bar. Nobody really pays her much mind, though some of the guys smile at her as she passes. She smiles back a couple of times, nods at another. She lingers by the bar for a time, taking in the environment, the feel of the place, the light, the voices, snippets of conversation rising and falling.
 
JORRIN
And then there was stump, and only a stump! It was something else, I tell you!
 
CALSTEIN
Aye, it was a thing! Old Lacy never saw it coming, that's for damn sure.
 
JORRIN
(laughing)
Poor lady. And she was so certain.
 
 
DAVRIK
I don't care what your supplier said. I don't have the inventory, okay?
 
NISSA
You'll have what I need you do have. Are we clear?
 
DAVRIK
Look, lady, this is the real world, and in the real world, what is, is. You get?
 
NISSA
Oh, I get.
(she does something threatening)
And I get this, too. I don't need to tell you what this is, do I?
 
DAVRIK
(suddenly very nervously)
That's not... er...
 
 
KAELIN
I think it is so.
 
 
SALAS
I don't think it's accurate to say that I know nothing. I rather think that you think that you know things and think that I don't know these things. That is what I think.
 
NAERI
You think you're so clever do you?
 
SALAS
No, I'm not clever. I'm not even smart, but nor do I need to be. Smart is, after all, just a polished version of stupid.
 
NAERI
You're stupid, is that what you're saying?
 
 
YARROW
Hey ladies, check this out!
 
KRISTA
Ooo, pretty!
 
YJIORA
What's a little boy like you even doing with that? You've nothing but fuzz!
 
KRISTA
(surprised)
Yjiora!
 
 
AKRON
Yeah!
 
NELLIS
Smoke it all.
 
SAL
It's not like the alcohol even does it...
 
AKRAN
Have you been there before?
</screenplay>
 
=== DRINK! ===
 
<screenplay>
VARDAMAN
DRINK!
 
CORALINE
DRINK!
 
VARDAMAN
DRINK!
 
The barkeep comes over and looks at them flatly.
 
CORALINE
(pointing)
Drink?
 
VARDAMAN
YES!
 
The barkeep refills their drinks.
 
CORALINE
Yes!
 
They drink their drinks.
 
Vardaman stares at his empty drink disappointedly.
 
VARDAMAN
FUCK!
 
Coraline peers over at his drink, then at her own.
 
CORALINE
FECK ARSE!
 
VARDAMAN
DRINK!
 
CORALINE
DRINK!
 
The barkeep refills their drinks.
 
CORALINE
DRINK!
 
Coraline drinks and throws her cup over her shoulder.
 
Vardaman drinks.
 
VARDAMAN
DRINK!
</screenplay>
 
=== 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.
 
== Note on the setting ==
 
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.
 
Fortunately for us, our story has very little to do with this.
 
== Script ==
 
=== 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, Nurunn is standing beside him.
 
NURUNN
Another day, another battle.
 
VARDAMAN
Aye, so it is.
 
NURUNN
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.
 
Nurunn 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?
 
NURUNN
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.
 
NURUNN
(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?
 
NURUNN
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. Nurunn snorts.
 
 
 
Later, they're talking by an old road, with their horses nearby.
 
NURUNN
Charo wanted me to talk to you.
 
VARDAMAN
Yeah? How is the old bastard?
 
NURUNN
Dead.
 
VARDAMAN
Oh.
 
NURUNN
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."
 
NURUNN
(somewhat surprised)
Is it ever that easy?
 
VARDAMAN
Can't an old man dream?
 
Nurunn raises an eyebrow.
 
VARDAMAN
Yeah, okay. I'll go... deal with it.
 
NURUNN
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>
 
=== 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 ==
 
She gave him a look normally reserved for the criminally insane: utter fascination.
 
== 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.
 
== 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.
 
== 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 ==
__TOC__
 
== Vardaman and an angel ==
<screenplay>
EXT. TOWN STREET - DAY
 
Vardaman is standing by a street watching folks go by. He looks bored and mildly irked, for whatever reason.
 
An angel in resplendent horror appears behind him (MYRR) and he turns quickly, starting to draw a sword. Then he sees it's an angel and stops, looking a bit confused.
 
VARDAMAN
Oh, uh...
 
MYRR
Be not afraid, mortal. I am Myrr of Souls, the Falcon of Kyrule, and I have come to offer you a task...
 
The angel stops, looking around. People are staring in varying states of awe, confusion, horror, and curiosity.
 
Vardaman now looks more than just mildly irked.
 
VARDAMAN
Will you put your hood on?
 
MYRR
(pulling down her hood)
I am sorry. This was not meant to alarm, but it is easy to forget the ways of mortals.
 
This hides most of the horribleness.
 
VARDAMAN
Yeah, I can see that.
 
Suddenly Ariel jumps at them out of the growing crowd and starts waving some massive leeks in Vardaman's and, as soon as she notices, Myrr's faces.
 
ARIEL
(screaming)
I found CELERY!
 
VARDAMAN
(trying to push her away)
Um...
 
ARIEL
Celery! Celery!
 
RANDOM CROWD PERSON
But those are leeks...
 
VARDAMAN
(trying to hold Ariel away at arms' length)
Will you fucking...
(he suddenly decides to just ignore her instead)
Alright, Myrr. What is it?
 
ARIEL
Celery!
 
She smacks Vardaman in the face with a leek.
 
MYRR
It is a difficult matter, something not to be taken lightly. You should know that you have been chosen for your unwavering faith and strength in the midst of most difficult darkness, and this will be the truest test of your resolve to...
 
VARDAMAN
(interrupting)
Get to the point, will you?
 
ARIEL
(even more loudly than before)
CELERY!
 
The angel takes a step backwards, then adopts the exact same stance as before.
 
MYRR
It is a difficult matter, something not to be taken lightly. You should know that you have been chosen for your unwavering faith and strength in the midst of most difficult darkness, and this will be the truest test of your resolve to stand as Deathdealer.
 
Vardaman groans, but lets go of Ariel.
 
Ariel stops waving the leeks, looks at the angel, looks at Vardaman, and then looks back at the angel consideringly.
 
Meanwhile Myrr goes on at length. We don't really care so we'll just skip past that.
 
Most of the crowd realises it doesn't care either and wanders off while Vardaman and Ariel wait for Myrr to actually get to some sort of point.
 
Two hours later:
 
Ariel is leaning against Vardaman and drooling on his sleeve.
 
MYRR
You must find a wanderer, one not of these worlds, who has been cursed. You call it the Death of Souls, but though its very presense threatens to consume everything that is, this time it is different. This story mimics that of Shalias the Betrayer, and as Shalias, you will know the Carrier by her stance and by her fate, for she too will hold the golden coin. You will join her cause and aid her to the end, whatever it may be. This shall be your task. So it has been decreed.
 
Cue [[#DRINK.21|flashback]] to Vardaman and Coraline at some bar. They're both rather drunk by this point, just babbling about something utterly inane.
 
Vardaman stares at Myrr for a bit, then moves slightly. Ariel startles and then stares at him.
 
VARDAMAN
Do you people practice sounding cheesy?
 
ARIEL
(wiping off her face with a leek)
You know, that's the mystery. We need to save the mystery, you know. You promised.
 
She waves some leeks for emphasis.
 
VARDAMAN
Great. It's like it's all been fated to work out.
 
ARIEL
(beaming)
Oh, don't worry. My dreamer is way too incompetent to have planned this.
(mumbling)
Eapherod, on the other hand... no, she's not that competent either.
 
MYRR
(to Ariel)
Your mystery has placed you on this path for a reason, child. Do not waver, and the truth will shine through.
 
ARIEL
Yes, yes.
(she drops the leeks and tugs on Myrr's arm)
Let's go shopping.
 
MYRR
(moving toward Vardaman)
You will need guidance...
 
VARDAMAN
Oh, I think I know where to find her. You two have fun. Shopping.
 
ARIEL
Good fun! We'll get you a nice hat and a box of wangs and some shiny paint and everything. And maybe even some swords! And we could go all out and...
(she lowers her voice dramatically)
...get things like travelling supplies and foooood!
 
Vardaman gives them a small wave, and Myrr relents and allows Ariel to tug her off back toward the market.
 
Vardaman then wanders off in the other direction and corners a random guard.
 
VARDAMAN
Oy, how many taverns does this town have?
 
GUARD
Five, though I reckon only one or two'll be open this time of day.
 
VARDAMAN
Either of those have good shalott?
 
GUARD
That'd be Kessigan's.
 
VARDAMAN
What about really bad shalott?
 
GUARD
Also Kessigan's.
</screenplay>
 
=== Meeting ===
 
<screenplay>
INT. TAVERN
 
Coraline is at the bar. Vardaman goes and sits next to her. The barkeep gets up very, very slowly.
 
CORALINE
(suddenly realising she actually knows the guy who sat next to her and he probably isn't trying to kill her)
Oh, hello!
 
Vardaman gives her a long look.
 
VARDAMAN
You know you have an angel after you?
 
CORALINE
(exasperatedly)
Oh, for the love of waffles...
 
VARDAMAN
I'll take that as a yes.
</screenplay>
 
== More stuff ==
 
If he thought you'd gone on that oath, I wouldn't be here.
 
Right... well...
That's not all there is to it.
 
It
 
 
I haven't slept in almost two months now.
 
== Oath ==
 
"Kyrule of Arling Tor, I will guard you, now and always. You know I will."
 
Fuzziness.
 
== Dead Agata ==
 
"Agata..." she turned fractically back to the high priest. "I had a cat with me before. Have you seen a cat anywhere? Is she alright?"
 
He frowned. "No," he said slowly. "Why...?"
 
She looked around, trying desperately to remember. The priests were watching her curiously, but this had nothing to do with them. Something about death. Blood. One soul?
 
There was a knife on the alter, and she grabbed it, looked at it in momentary confusion, slashed at her other arm, and immediate dropped to the floor. "Blood of my blood," she said, drawing the sigil again on the tiles. It was almost the same as before, but not quite. This one was for the present, for renewal. For life.
 
"What are you doing?" the main guy cried, and jumped forward to stop her. But the last stroke was quick, and she was done before her got there, flashing the entire shape into darkness, black smoke rising and coalescing in the circle.
 
She was already feeling light-headed. Bad idea, perhaps. But done was done, and the shape was there. Paws, whiskers, ears. Tail. A feline smile, a weight of fluff.
 
"It worked," Agata purred. "You're better than my last witch."
 
"Agata!" Coraline screamed, and drew the cat into her arms, hugging it, getting blood all over its fur and also herself in the process, but not even caring. She kept trying to say something else, but nothing would quite come out, and just sat there rocking back and forth, cat in her arms, tears streaming down her face, blood down her arm.
 
"What..." someone started to say, but was interrupted by the high priest sweeping forward and covering Coraline.
 
"Everyone, out," he commanded, but then ammended that the main guy could also stay.
 
 
Later, after the place was cleared and Coraline had managed to calm down a bit, he mused, "So this is how you survived at all. You're a witch."
 
"Good witch," Agata said. "Wouldn't have done this for my last one."
 
"Yeah," Coraline said. "Er, sorry about your floor. I kind of panicked a bit there."
 
"Floors can be washed," the main guy said, "but what of everyone who saw that stunt of yours? What in the hells are we supposed to make of that?"
 
Agata peered at him suspiciously. "Old magic," she finally said when nobody else said anything.
 
"To ressurect your familiar?" the high priest asked.
 
"She died for me," Coraline said. "I didn't know how to face that. I could feel her gone, I just knew what she'd done, and it was too much. So..." she shook her head. "I did something?"
 
"Wasn't completely gone, now was Í?" Agata said. "You still knew what to do. I was the only one who ever knew that."
 
== The other Coraline ==
 
But if I do this, what about the real one? What if it deprives some other girl out there of her birthright?
 
You're from Ord, right? Coraline Henderson. A peculiar name.
 
Yes...
 
You don't know where you came from. Lived on the streets, hitchhiked about, eventually wound up here.
 
== Lost family ==
 
Coraline entered the room hesitantly, so much so that Faulo wound up having to pull her the rest of the way in by the hand. There were three of them waiting there - an elderly fellow who looked oddly familiar, a woman who seemed quite preocupied by the ceiling, and another guy who seemed to be some sort of guard. A cliché of a guard, at that - he had a suit, some sort of gun thing, a pair of sunglasses, and what was probably an earpiece for the ordian equivalent of a radio.
 
The man fixated on Coraline at once and stepped forward hopefully. "Coraline?" he asked.
 
She startled at the name, but managed to mostly cover her surprise. "Um," she said. "Hi?"
 
"It is you," he said, smiling. "How lovely you've grown, just like your mother."
 
She looked at him, confused. She didn't know this man. This was all just a horrible inter-universal mixup. Except the thing was, he looked like her crazy uncle Frank. Just without the long scar across the top of his face.
 
"I'm sorry," she said, taking a step backwards, "but who are you?" She wasn't even sure if she was playing along or not at this point. Mostly, she was just confused.
 
"Coraline, this is Lord Teller," Seras said. "He's your uncle."
 
== Heading to pick up dress ==
 
"It's just a mask, dearest. A... my sister designed it, and when I saw it I told her I wanted one, so she just had a whole pile of them made and shipped me a box of about a hundred. I wasn't expecting that, but apparently that was cheaper than only having one made, and she figured, 'why not? What kind of dumbarse sister of mine can't find a use for a hundred lace masks?'"
 
"And did you? Find a use?" he asked.
 
"Oh, yeah. I made a chandelier out of them. That thing was awesome." She sighed. "I miss that chandelier."
 
"You... made a chandelier out of masks?"
 
"Yes." She smiled proudly. "You should have seen the glittery patterns it threw at the walls."
 
"Okay, I have to ask," he said. "But just... how old are you?"
 
She paused to think. "Twenty five, I think. Why?"
 
He looked surprised. "You're well-educated, a master crafter -"
 
She snorted at that.
 
"But you also act like you've actually seen the world," he continued, ignoring her interruption. "And you've got a crassness about you, too, not like what one would see in noble circles. How have you have you seen so much, and yet acquired such skill?"
 
"Oh, you think I'm crass?" she said, eyeing him. "Now there's this other guy I know, he's crass, all fuck and shit and fucking shit vittu vittu. Well, not vittu, obviously, but you know what I mean."
 
"Is this guy's name Vardaman by any chance?"
 
She feigned surprise. "How did you ever guess?"
 
"You don't seem the sort to hang around cutthroats."
 
"Sure I am," she said. "If they're paying, anyway."
 
He looked skeptical.
 
"As a barkeep is, she tends her folks." She frowned. "Or something along those lines."
 
"I thought you were a witch."
 
"There's a difference?" Coraline asked.
 
== Heading to pick up material ==
 
"So what are we doing?"
 
Coraline looked around. "I'm not entirely sure. The lifespan of phonebooths is one of those mysteries of the the universe."
 
"Uh huh."
 
They both just stood there for a bit.
 
"I'm not sure," Coraline repeated. "Frankly it's been awhile since I've been in a city like this, and the last time... we knew where we were coming from and going ahead of time. Get through customs, and then the first stop was the place we were staying. And they always had information around the train stations," she mused.
 
== Deathdealers ==
 
They were down to three.
 
They had passed all the trials. Achieved all the things. And now, standing at the end, holding their mugs, they were down to three.
 
It was a potion, that last step that would turn them into the true swords of the god. It was just water, of course, but it was also more than water. Molecularly it could be anything it wanted, Coraline supposed. She wondered what she was doing here, what she was thinking. This was not what she was supposed to be doing, she knew that much. But at the same time, it made sense. It had made sense all the way here and now here she was standing with these two other warriors who were willing to do anything for their god, to give up all the world to be his will.
 
All she wanted was to survive.
 
She clutched her mug of water-not-water closely, and the others, too held theirs in trepidation. All they had to do was drink. It could kill them, of course, but it wouldn't, not if they were truly strong enough to be what they needed to be.
 
Garen smiled slightly, and Martel just looked down.
 
It was Coraline who drank first, first a tentative sip, then large gulps until it was all gone, deep breath at the end. The others followed suit, not wanting to be outdone, and then Garen just laughed.
 
"Well, that wasn't so hard!" he said.
 
Coraline smiled too.
 
"Speak for yourself," Martel said. He was almost shaking. "It's over, then?"
 
"No," Coraline whispered. "Now we must last the night."
 
She sank to the floor slowly, drifting down like a lost shawl, down down down across the tiles, her hair trailing after into a whispering puddle, the others moving to catch her as she slipped out of grasp...
 
 
She was in a space. Everything was dark, but she could see herself. Everything was peaceful, quiet, calm. All her pain gone. All the voices silent. Just her own self, free and alone, sitting in the dark.
 
She let it be. Simply sat. Waited. Not for anything in particular, just nothing at all.
 
There was a presence before her. A figure, shrouded and dark, but against the darkness of the space, infinitely bright.
 
"This place. Is it yours?" he asked.
 
"No," she said.
 
"She called it Midnight," he said.
 
"It's been called a lot of things," she said.
 
"It's not real," he said.
 
"No," she said.
 
"But it is," he said.
 
"Yes," she said.
 
"You can't stay," he said.
 
"I know," she said.
 
"You need to wake up," he said.
 
"I know," she said.
 
"It's all right," he said. "You don't need to be afraid. Not here. Never here."
 
Suddenly she was hugging him. Surprised, he hesitated, then embraced her in turn.
 
"It's all right," he repeated. "You're safe. I'll protect you, my dreamer."
 
"I know," she said, and awoke.
 
 
Coraline was lying on the floor. It was morning. Martel was sitting up, rubbing his head. Garen moaned.
 
"What... just... what..." Garen said.
 
"Yeah..." Martel agreed.
 
"That was weird," Coraline said, getting up. She felt better than she had in months, stronger, more aware, the voices pushed away into the back of her mind.
 
"What?" Garen asked, still lying flat on his back.
 
Coraline opened her mouth to answer, then reconsidered. "What... happened?" she asked. "Did you dream?"
 
Martel shook his head, then winced again. "One moment we were all drinking, the next... floor." He spread his arms to demonstrate, and added, "Looks like we all made it. Yay!"
 
"I'll drink to that," Coraline said, pulling Garen up off the floor. He practically bounced.
 
The door to the chamber boomed open and Harrus swept in. "Well, you're all Deathdealers now. Congratulations," he said flatly. "There are those who will think you are the chosen of Kyrule, but you know that's not true. You chose yourselves. You chose this."
 
"Kyrule's big on choices, isn't he?" Coraline said, cocking her head.
 
Harrus snorted. "You'd know more than most, wouldn't you?" Then he addressed the other two, handing each a coin, "I'm proud of you, you know. Now get out there and guard the world."
 
"That's it?" Martel said.
 
"What about her?" Garen asked, indicating Coraline.
 
She shrugged. "Got stuff to do, you know," she said vaguely.
 
Martel frowned. "You're some sort of chosen after all, aren't you? That's why you've ascended so quickly."
 
"No, that would be because someone tried to kill me," Coraline corrected, "and that seemed like the easiest way to keep them from finding me again when they came back to finish the job."
 
The other two looked a bit surprised at his.
 
"I'm still working on sorting out what's all behind that," she added.
 
== Notes on the Death of Souls ==
* Contagion: Usually folks just die immediately as a result of contagion, as opposed to turning, hence relatively low spread
* Spread by those who don't just die ('carriers') trying to eat their souls - hunger the result of trying to fill the resulting hole?
 
 
;Early stages (0-3 days):
* hunger
* restlessness
* fear
 
;Intermediate (0-4 days):
* insatiable, overwhelming hunger
* loss of awareness
* seeing things that aren't there
* hearing voices
* loss of ability to sleep
* extreme twitchiness
* eyes turn black
 
;End (0-7 days):
* utter madness
* voices shouting
* loss of soul/self
* contagion
* death
 
 
*Longest recorded carrier lasted 11 weeks. Survived by application of soulbinding and devouring the souls of spirit forms. Succeeded in curing the infection from self; method used and current whereabouts unknown.
*Longest recorded non-magical carrier lasted 13 days since initial infection.
*Average lifespan for carriers: 5 days.
 
 
BOUNTY: Black soul gems (Carrier 'souls' turn black in soul gems). Bounty only allows one black soul gem at a time. Attempts to turn in more than two at a time result in no bounty, confiscation, and a black mark (to stave off practice of allowing infection for monetary gain)
 
Bounty put out as a result of sudden rash of outbreaks that occurred 2-3 years ago; rates are down again, but the disease/curse remains more common now than it used to be.
 
 
Carrying soul gems may help to prevent infection upon normal contact; use of soul gem upon Carrier death appears to reliably prevent the curse jumping to nearby hosts.
 
Upon carrier death, Death of Souls appears to have a ~20% chance of jumping to any nearby living creature of sufficient base soul type. Jumping to two from a single dead host has been observed/reported once.
 
== Finland ==
 
{{q|Everything is forbidden in Finland, or if it isn't, then it's taxed.|A Finn}}
 
The thing about Finland is that, if one were to simply sit down and start describing it, it wouldn't even sound like a real county. It has seasons and people and things and glow-in-the-dark deer and giant statues of butts and tar-flavoured lemonade. It is a country where people will tack letters to the wall rather than interact with each other directly, where everyone will just stand around waiting rather than say anything when a bus driver forgets to open the doors, where personal space is not just valued, but imperative. Graffiti is short and to the point. Sarcasm and cynicism are taught in schools.
 
Metaphors comparing Finns to drunk, angry bears have proven effective, and general descriptions of antisocial engineers have also held quite well, despite most Finns not being, in fact, either engineers or antisocial.
 
One Finn explained, when asked how to approach a Finn, "You don't. You just don't."
 
Coraline was not necessarily an exactly average Finn, but she was also by no means unusual.
 
== Steel (sword) ==
 
The thing with steel was that its hardness seemed to depend entirely on the carbon. If anything, the iron in it was the weakness. So Coraline wanted a diamond sword. Just a big-arse sword made of solid diamond. Or better yet, some sort of carbon compound that was even stronger. Like... graphine or something. Totally a thing.
 
Unfortunately Barney had thought her mad when she'd brought it up. Ambiguously more or perhaps less fortunately, this had also led to him following her around trying to sell her a sword for the better part of four months.
 
Now she had a sword she could scratch with her earrings.
 
== This ain't even living ==
<screenplay>
CORALINE
Everything is noisy. That's my world. Constant noise. Sounds that don't fit, voices that aren't there, a clamour and tumult and thunder of noise, noise, noise that never stops, until one day when it will, when it will all stop and I will finally have peace, and on that day I will probably be dead. But it's still something to look forward to. It's something. No more fuzziness. No more noise.
 
GUY
And that's it?
 
CORALINE
It's peace. Freedom. Something else that ain't this.
 
GUY
It's death, though. That's not what you want.
 
CORALINE
Death? I'm already dead.
(she laughs humourlessly)
I'm drunk. I can't even put proper concepts together. I can't care about anything, not really. It's a life, sure, but it's not living. It's just one thing in front of another, moving, forward and on, but not properly living.
Because I still remember. I still dream of what it was to go through life, to be properly aware, to be a proper person interacting with the world and experiencing things in full without this fuzzy mantle covering all the sharp edges... I remember anger, fear, hatred. And pain. I remember them as concepts, but what they feel like I cannot even comprehend. Instead I'm just here, existing, ambling, and it's all good, all the time, but I cannot even love, either, not really.
 
GUY
That's not really...
 
CORALINE
It is! It's the only existence I've got, and it's horrible, but I have to have it, because the alternative is so much worse. Like this, I have fuzziness and a not-quite world, but without it I have nothing at all, only pain and horror and a terrible emptiness. And the voices, that never stop.
This, it's quiet. It's quiet, at least.
</screenplay>
 
== Escape from the Hells ==
<screenplay>
Vardaman pushes and pulls the other two into the boat as the ferryman watches impassively. Charo slides into the bottom and sits wearily. Ariel collapses in a heap.
 
There's a long pause. Vardaman stares at the ferryman. The ferryman does nothing.
 
VARDAMAN
I don't suppose you'll get us out of here?
 
FERRYMAN
Do you have the fare?
 
VARDAMAN?
What?
(he checks his pockets)
Oh, no, I must have left it in my other pants...
 
Ariel slowly stands up behind him, taking on an aura of auraness. It's very presency. And commanding. And stuff.
 
ARIEL
Ferryman. You will take us from this place.
 
FERRYMAN
You are damned and bound. Without the fare, you cannot leave these realms.
 
ARIEL
You will take us. I command it.
 
There is a long pause. Vardaman raised a dubious eyebrow.
 
FERRYMAN
(bowing slightly)
Very well.
 
The boat slides silkily over the water...
</screenplay>
 
=== Awkwardness ===
<screenplay>
ARIEL
Vardaman, think about it this way. It's like when you lose a screw, and you don't know where it went. You take another screw and this time you watch where it falls.
 
VARDAMAN
Then you lose two screws?
 
KYRULE
Or you find both.
 
ARIEL
Either way you still need the screw you lost, so the second screw is a risk you can afford. But this time you're watching, so even then you're not likely to actually lose it.
 
VARDAMAN
What are screws?
 
ARIEL
They're... little thingies that hold stuff together. Easy to drop when you're working with them, though.
 
VARDAMAN
And the screws in this metaphor would be...?
 
ARIEL
Kyrule?
 
KYRULE
Lost souls.
 
ARIEL
Unfortunately I don't actually have an overabundance of souls to throw at the problem, or even any spares, so that's an issue.
 
KYRULE
Fishing for a donation, are you?
 
ARIEL
Weell...
</screenplay>
 
== Digital ==
 
You forget so much when you go digital. You forget how to cut out and store a template for a poster, how transactions are all made on location, how you have no idea at any moment what is happening anywhere else. You forget the girls they hired to manage the records, you forget the store-rooms filled with nothing but papers, the indexing systems, the boxes. You lose the uncertainty of printing, and you lose the danger of only having a single copy, because now there is never only a single copy. You forget the worth of things, and only know the worth of names.
 
And then you go back. And you forget how much trouble it was to guard your name, how easily things could disappear, how scary it was when your entire work could be lost. You forget the monotony, the simplicity, the boredom. You forget what it feels like to run on the road, to go south for the winter, to come home after. You forget the friends you made and never met, the things they made you feel, the things you shared with them. You forget what it's like to have fifty pens and yet find that none of them are the one you want.
 
And then you go back.


Back in a world of ideas, of conceptual currency and ephemeral product. A world where food is cheap and work is expensive, a world where you can hop from planet to planet in a matter of minutes and yet still see nothing new. Updates stream throughout the stars and indeed here we know it all, and yet still we know nothing, because people. People never change.
{{survivors song nav|footer|next=This/Survivors song/Part 1|title=Introduction}}

Latest revision as of 03:33, 24 April 2017

Next ≫
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Survivor's Song: Introduction
(heaps: heap • heap2 • heap3)
Part 0 • Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 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.
Next ≫
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Survivor's Song: Introduction
(heaps: heap • heap2 • heap3)
Part 0 • Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • ...
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Git does the C philosophy of enough rope to hang yourself and then enough left over in case you need to redo the rigging on the boat to the afterlife.