The Solstice Hunters

(font: "Garamond")[[[''Chapter One: Coming of Age''->C1 0]]]

(font: "Garamond")[You fold the (text-colour: "#7fff94") + (text-style: "bold")[map] along its creases, then tuck it against your chest and head for the stairs. Your father will be pleased; he knew his seven sons would choose other paths, but has always held hope for a mentee in his daughter. A smile curves your lips, and with it, your heartbeat quickens. You are going to be an //adventurer//. Siegfried called it first, said you looked out the window too much to spend your whole life trapped behind it. Perhaps he's right, but you're not about to give him any credit. This was your decision alone. Lamplight and voices filter in from the kitchen. [[<m>//Your family awaits.//->C1 Mapmaker 1]]]

(font: "Garamond")[You grab the (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour: "#b60095")[bottle] by its neck and head for the stairs. Your mother will be pleased; in the past few months, she's been placing her slimmer apothecary books on your nightstand, slowly nudging you her way. A smile curves your lips. This feels good. //Right.// Even Adam said you would choose this path--he told you that every healer he knows is short, like you--but you're not about to let your meanest brother proclaim this victory. No, this one is all your own. Lamplight and voices filter in from the kitchen. [[<a>//Your family awaits.//</a>->C1 Apothecarist 1]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Thirteen is supposed to change you. Your mother, a former physician, tells you in cold, scientific detail the things that will happen to your body. There are some you fear, and others--like the fabled //growth spurt// that sets an ache beneath your knees--you await with little patience. But on the morning of your birthday, thirteen still feels like twelve, and like every thirteen-year-old in Aeverdam, [[you must choose an apprenticeship.->C1 2]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Two objects rest on the table before you. One is a (text-colour: "#b60095") + (text-style: "bold")[jar of medicinal powder], laced with one of your mother's small enchantments, to be stirred into a hot drink or soup. The other is a (text-colour: "#7fff94") + (text-style: "bold")[map of Aeverdam]: a folded sheet of tea-tawny paper, bound in cowhide leather and inked by your father's own hand. The one you choose will sow the path you walk forever. Apothecarist or mapmaker, like mother or like father--you have big shoes to fill, but only you can choose the pair. What will you do? (text-colour: "red")[[Inspect the powder.->C1 3A]] (text-colour: "green")[[Inspect the map.->C1 3B]]]

(font: "Garamond")[//Your name is [[Willa Corbel->C1 1]], and today, you will make a choice that defines the rest of your life.//]

(font: "Garamond")[You run a finger around the rim of the jar, prod a nail into the cork. Toss the powder about in its cage, leaving milk-white clouds on the glass. At once, you know its contents: white ginger, radish rinds, silver daisy, magic. You have spent many an afternoon leaned over your mother's apothecary counter, watching her sift plants and bones into tinctures, letting her teach you from your questions. She'll be happy to know you plan to follow her. Then a word creeps into your mind, the horrible //but//. Is this the life you really want? Trapped behind a counter for all your days? Assuming the honey-slick facade of a saleswoman, forever facing a people who will despise you if you cannot cure them? [[//Yes. My mother is healer, and that is a noble path to walk.//->C1 4A]] [[//I don't know. My father's pursuits are always so interesting...//->C1 3B]]]

(font: "Garamond")[You lift the map from the table and unfold it carefully, so that the leather shields the paper from dust. Aeverdam is shaped like a puddle--your father's lines capture every jag and curve of the wall in thick strokes scaled to the eyelash. Beyond the wall, delicate, green ink hatches sketch out the Woodlands, the last wilds between the Kingdom and its Curse. Each year, your father's maps become more detailed, more precise. He travels often, and when he comes back with presents, you are far more interested in his notes. He'll be delighted to have you on his journeys and in his study alike. Yet you wonder--are you skilled enough for such a job? You have your father's hunger for adventure, but will you grow into his steady hand? [[//Yes. All I do not know, father will teach me. Finally, we will uncover the secrets of the Kingdom together.//->C1 4A]] [[//I'm not sure. Mother has done so much good as an apothecarist...//->C1 3A]]]

(font: "Garamond")[You pause. Hesitation floods you, unbidden. Is this the right choice? Will this truly prepare you for the life that lies ahead? The clock on the stairwell chimes noon. [[Your family is expecting you.->C1 4B]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style: "fade-in-out")[CHIME. CHIME.] [[Destiny whispers in a language you can't comprehend.->C1 4C]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style: "fade-in-out")[CHIME. CHIME. CHIME.] [[YOU MUST MAKE A CHOICE.->C1 4D]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style: "fade-in-out")[CHIME.] Will you dedicate your life in service to the ill? (text-style: "fade-in-out")[CHIME.] Will you travel the Kingdom to teach the people of its wiles? (text-style: "fade-in-out")[CHIME.] Time is running out: (text-style: "bold")[you must decide.] (text-style: "fade-in-out")[CHIME.] (text-style: "fade-in-out")[CHIME.] [[<a>LIKE MOTHER.</a>->C1 Apothecarist]] [[<m>LIKE FATHER.</m>->C1 Mapmaker]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Six anxious faces greet you as you turn the corner, and all you can think about is how there should be [[<a>nine.->C1 Apothecarist 2]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Six anxious faces greet you as you turn the corner, and all you can think about is how there should be [[<m>nine.->C1 Mapmaker 2]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Your three oldest brothers are mere shadows in your memory: voices you can't quite remember, faces blurred like the pictures in a waterlogged book. Still, you can't help but miss them. You are the youngest of eight, the only daughter of seven sons--your brothers are the very compass of your existence. [[<a>Without them</a>->C1 Apothecarist 2.5]], you feel you are three-parts empty, riddled with dark hollows where their untold stories should be.]

(font: "Garamond")[Your three oldest brothers are mere shadows in your memory: voices you can't quite remember, faces blurred like the pictures in a waterlogged book. Still, you miss them. You are the youngest of eight, the only daughter of seven sons--your brothers are the very compass of your existence. [[<m>Without them</m>->C1 Mapmaker 2.5]], you feel you are three-parts empty, riddled with dark hollows where their untold stories should be.]

(font:"Garamond")[You are seventeen years old[[<a>...->C3 Apothecarist 1]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Each year, on the eve of winter's longest night, the Royal Oracle of Aeverdam divines the names of two heroes to participate in the Solstice Hunt--a long march through the Woodlands to the Curse's luminous boundary, where a creature called the Unfaced waits, hungry for blood and a challenge. With its death, the Curse will shatter, and Aeverdam will be free. But for seven centuries, [[<m>the outcome of the Hunt has yet to change.->C1 Mapmaker 3A]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Each year, on the eve of winter's longest night, the Royal Oracle of Aeverdam divines the names of two heroes to participate in the Solstice Hunt--a long march through the Woodlands to the Curse's luminous boundary, where a creature called the Unfaced waits, hungry for blood and a challenge. With its death, the Curse will shatter, and Aeverdam will be free. But for seven centuries, [[<a>the outcome of the Hunt has yet to change.->C1 Apothecarist 3A]]]

(font: "Garamond")[None of your brothers has ever been the monster. For that much, you can only be grateful--it is one thing to be killed by a monster, but another to be killed because you are one. Six years have passed since Olean went in the Hunt. Your mother believes your family's bad fortune is over, that the Twelve Sisters will choose no more Corbel children--adopted or otherwise--to die by the Unfaced's hand. But your father is not so certain. Every year, when the whole Kingdom crowds into the massive Aever Square to hear the Oracle's message, he watches his sons instead, his lips opening and closing in what you can only imagine are practiced goodbyes. But today is not about Hunts and Curses and monsters--[[<a>today is about you.->C1 Apothecarist 5]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Tristan calls you aside on what you both know is the last good night of his life. He lingers against the door to your father's study, his body half in shadow. The lamplit side of him edges forth in somber gold, the wine-flush on his cheeks muted. When you step towards him, he waves you closer. Yet you freeze. [[//<a>How do I speak to a brother I'm already mourning?//->C2 Apothecarist 1]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Tristan calls you aside on what you both know is the last good night of his life. He lingers against the door to your father's study, his body half in shadow. The lamplit side of him edges forth in somber gold, the wine-flush on his cheeks muted. When you step towards him, he waves you closer. Yet you freeze. [[<m>//How do I speak to a brother I'm already mourning?//->C2 Mapmaker 1]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Your family crowds around the table, their eyes aglow with anticipation and the candlelight dancing off the smooth, frosted top of your birthday cake. You hover near the threshold, your hands clutched shyly over the bottle. (text-style:"bold")["Happy Birthday, Willa!"] your family choruses. Adam signs an extra message, (text-style:"bold")[//I'm proud of you//], and your heart swells. (text-style:"bold")["Don't be shy, darling. Come, show us what you chose,"] your father says. You come in and set the jar on the table. Your brothers whoop and clap--even Siegfried, who had expected you to follow your father. Your father offers you a tight-lipped smile, but behind his glasses, his gaze is hollow, full of shadow where there should be light. [[<a>Guilt hatches your stomach</a>->C1 Apothecarist 6]], but it disappears the second your mother's hands smack the table in childish glee.]

(font: "Garamond")[[[<a>Chapter Two: The Monster and the Martyr->C2 Apothecarist]]]

(font: "Garamond")[[[<m>Chapter Two: The Monster and the Martyr->C2 Mapmaker]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Your family crowds around the table, their eyes aglow with anticipation and the candlelight dancing off the smooth, frosted top of your birthday cake. You hover near the threshold, your fingers trembling against the map's pebbled cover. (text-style:"bold")["Happy Birthday, Willa!"] your family choruses. Siegfried winks at you, seeing the telltale leather between the slats of your fingers. (text-style:"bold")["Don't be shy, darling. Come, show us what you chose,"] your father says, beckoning you closer. You come in and set the map on the table. Your brothers whoop and clap--even Adam, who had expected you to follow your mother. She smiles for you, offers silent applause, but her gaze is solemn, her brow pulled tight with a wish for something else. Your father, however, seems almost dumbfounded; his mouth hangs agape, his eyes blown wide behind his glasses. (text-style:"bold")["Willa, really?"] he asks, near breathless. He stands and opens his arms, beckoning you to meet him, to [[<m>accept the adventures he has to give.->C1 Mapmaker 6]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Two children go into the woods[[<a>...->C1 Apothecarist 3B]]]

(font: "Garamond")[...one returns a (text-style:"bold")[monster][[<a>...->C1 Apothecarist 3C]]]

(font: "Garamond")[...and the other [[<a>never returns.->C1 Apothecarist 4]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Two children go into the woods[[<m>...->C1 Mapmaker 3B]]]

(font: "Garamond")[...one returns a (text-style:"bold")[monster][[<m>...->C1 Mapmaker 3C]]]

(font: "Garamond")[...and the other [[<m>never returns.->C1 Mapmaker 4]]]

(font: "Garamond")[THE SOLSTICE HUNTERS An Interactive Novel by Erin Elise Christopher [[BEGIN STORY->ACT ONE]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["You know I can't do that, Willa. We all know what happens to the ones who try to run."] And you do. Your mind conjures warnings heard in the pauses between festival songs, of a flood of guards in their black shell helmets, of the hounds howling at their feet, decrying a blasphemy against the Goddesses. Of lances sharp with silver moonlight, ready for traitors' blood. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["You're strong, and tall. You could outrun them,"] you push. Tristan laughs at your faith in him. (text-style:"bold")["I'd rather the Twelve Sisters not have to strike me down,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["Friedrich says they aren't nearly as lovely as their statues."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Mother says Friedrich is a hack."] (text-style:"bold")["Well, he is a better fisherman."] [[<a>"Why did you want to talk to me?"->C2 Apothecarist 3]]]

(font: "Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold")["You and mother,"] he says with a roll of his eyes. (text-style:"bold")["I bet if you went downstairs, you could still hear her praying."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Is that such a bad thing?"] (text-style:"bold")["No. Not if it makes her feel better. But it won't make a difference,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["Once, when we were out on the river, Friedrich said he saw my death. He wouldn't tell me how, only that it wouldn't be long before it passed."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Mother says Friedrich is a hack."] (text-style:"bold")["Perhaps he is. But I'm still going to die. Even if I run away."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I know,"] your murmur. Your mind conjures warnings heard in the pauses between festival songs, of a flood of wall guards in their black shell helmets, of the hounds howling at their feet, decrying a blasphemy against the Goddesses. Of lances sharp with silver moonlight, ready for traitors' blood. You shiver. [[<a>"Why did you want to talk to me?"->C2 Apothecarist 3]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["You know I can't do that, Willa. We all know what happens to the ones who try to run."] And you do. Your mind conjures warnings heard in the pauses between festival songs, of a flood of guards in their black shell helmets, of the hounds howling at their feet, decrying a blasphemy against the Goddesses. Of lances sharp with silver moonlight, ready for traitors' blood. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["You're strong, and tall. You could outrun them,"] you push. Tristan laughs at your faith in him. The sound is hollow--his throat is dry. (text-style:"bold")["I'd rather the Twelve Sisters not have to strike me down,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["Friedrich says they aren't nearly as lovely as their statues."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Mother says Friedrich is a hack."] (text-style:"bold")["Well, he is a better fisherman."] [[<m>"Why did you want to talk to me?"->C2 Mapmaker 3]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["You and mother,"] he says with a roll of his eyes. (text-style:"bold")["I bet if you went downstairs, you could still hear her praying."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Is that such a bad thing?"] (text-style:"bold")["No. Not if it makes her feel better. But it won't make a difference,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["Once, when we were out on the river, Friedrich said he saw my death. He wouldn't tell me how, only that it wouldn't be long before it passed."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Mother says Friedrich is a hack."] (text-style:"bold")["Perhaps he is. But I'm still going to die. Even if I run away."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I know,"] your murmur. Your mind conjures warnings heard in the pauses between festival songs, of a flood of wall guards in their black shell helmets, of the hounds howling at their feet, decrying a blasphemy against the Goddesses. Of lances sharp with silver moonlight, ready for traitors' blood. You shiver. [[<m>"Why did you want to talk to me?"->C2 Mapmaker 3]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Because I wanted to give you something."] He sticks a hand in the pocket of his tunic, produces something small and curved that he quickly hides with his fingers. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["What is it?"] you ask him. (text-style:"bold")["Hold out your hand."] You do, and Tristan lays his gift in your palm. It's a delicate river shell, bone gray with gentle scallops, like a ripple frozen in flow. You pad a finger over its slanted surface, counting the notches and ridges, and wonder idly if your mother could make anything from it. (text-style:"bold")["Watch when you flip it over,"] says Tristan, and he pinches the shell between his fingers and turns it downside up. You gasp. The concave shimmers like an opal in the lamplight, veins of color flashing between pink and blue. You look up at Tristan, who's smiling either fondly or sadly--whatever it is, it's all too soft for his cut-glass face. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["What's this for?"] you ask. (text-style:"bold")["To remember me by,"] says Tristan. (text-style:"bold")["Tris, your stinky, fish-smelling big brother."] [[<a>"You're not that stinky."->C2 Apothecarist 4A]] [[<a>"I don't want to have to remember you. I want you to come home."->C2 Apothecarist 4B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Because I wanted to give you something."] He sticks a hand in the pocket of his tunic, produces something small and curved that he quickly hides with his fingers. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["What is it?"] you ask him. (text-style:"bold")["Hold out your hand."] You do, and Tristan lays his gift in your palm. It's a delicate river shell, bone gray with gentle scallops, like a ripple frozen in flow. You pad a finger over its slanted surface, counting the notches and ridges, and wonder idly if your father has ever seen one on his travels. (text-style:"bold")["Watch when you flip it over,"] says Tristan, and he pinches the shell between his fingers and turns it downside up. You gasp. The concave shimmers like an opal in the lamplight, veins of color flashing between pink and blue. You look up at Tristan, who's smiling either fondly or sadly--whatever it is, it's all too soft for his cut-glass face. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["What's this for?"] you ask. (text-style:"bold")["To remember me by,"] says Tristan. (text-style:"bold")["Tris, your stinky, fish-smelling big brother."] [[<m>"You're not that stinky."->C2 Mapmaker 4A]] [[<m>"I don't want to have to remember you. I want you to come home."->C2 Mapmaker 4B]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Tristan peels off the door and steps full into the light. Of all your adopted brothers, he looks the least like you. Tall and pale-eyed, he appears as a marble carving come to life, every plane and shadow of his face deliberate in its beauty. Too many girls have pretended to be your friend to get close to him. (text-style:"bold")["Don't look so afraid of me, Willa,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["I'm not a ghost, yet."] Until his name was called tonight, Tristan apprenticed a fisherman who moonlights as a soothsayer, a lesser cousin of the Oracle herself--of course he can see through your hesitation. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I'm not afraid of you."] (text-style:"bold")["Then you're afraid of what I'm going to say. Is that it?"] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["When did you get so smart?"] He cracks a smile. (text-style:"bold")["Couple hours ago. Finding out you're going to die will do that to you."] You make tiny fists of your hands. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Don't say that!"] (text-style:"bold")["Why not? It's true. One way or another."] You shake your head. [[<a>"You could run away? Right?"->C2 Apothecarist 2A]] [[<a>"Come on, Tris. I want to keep my hopes up."->C2 Apothecarist 2B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Tristan peels off the door and steps full into the light. Of all your adopted brothers, he looks the least like you. Tall and pale-eyed, Tristan appears as a marble carving come to life, every plane and shadow of his face deliberate in its beauty. Too many girls have pretended to be your friend to get close to him. (text-style:"bold")["Don't look so afraid of me, Willa,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["I'm not a ghost, yet."] Until his name was called tonight, Tristan apprenticed a fisherman who moonlights as a soothsayer, a lesser cousin of the Oracle herself--of course he can see through your hesitation. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I'm not afraid of you."] (text-style:"bold")["Then you're afraid of what I'm going to say. Is that it?"] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["When did you get so smart?"] He cracks a smile. (text-style:"bold")["Couple hours ago. Finding out you're going to die will do that to you."] You make tiny fists of your hands. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Don't say that!"] (text-style:"bold")["Why not? It's true. One way or another."] You shake your head. [[<m>"You could run away? Right?"->C2 Mapmaker 2A]] [[<m>"Come on, Tris. I want to keep my hopes up."->C2 Mapmaker 2B]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Tristan ruffles your hair--something he hasn't done in years. Of your four remaining brothers, he's the only one besides Cyrus who treats you like the teenager you are. (text-style:"bold")["It's okay. You can be mean to me,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["I'm going to miss you, Willa-bean."] Your jaw aches with the threat of tears. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Stop talking like that. Please."] (text-style:"bold")["Promise you'll take good care of mother. You know how she works too hard."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I said stop, Tristan!"] Tristan's mouth snaps closed. Your cry is too big for the room, leaving you both to wade the echo--you with tears in your eyes, Tristan on the knife-sharp edge of breaking down with you, his body trembling from shoulder to toe. You both breathe in. You wipe away your tears, and he cools, solidifies, as if ice has filled in where he'd just begun to crack. He rests a hand on your shoulder. (text-style:"bold")["This makes me a hero, remember? I was hoping my baby sister would be proud of me.] You nod. Sniffle. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I guess I can be."] (text-style:"bold")["Hey. Let's go get our brothers,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["It's our first Solstice here in the capital--I bet we can still hear the music from the roof."] [[<a>"Okay," you say, quietly.->C2 Apothecarist 5A]] [[<a>"I can't," you say. "I should really go to bed."->C2 Apothecarist 5B]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["I wish I could. But I've made peace with it,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["I figured if the Hunt took Verran and the twins, age-order, I could only be next."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Well, that's a stupid way to think."] (text-style:"bold")["You just keep your head up, okay?"] he says, then he ruffles your hair--something he hasn't done in years. Of your four remaining brothers, he's the only one besides Cyrus who treats you like the teenager you are. (text-style:"bold")["I'm going to miss you, Willa-bean."] Your jaw aches with the threat of tears. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Stop talking like that. Please."] (text-style:"bold")["Promise you'll take good care of mother. You know how she works too hard."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I said stop, Tristan!"] Tristan's mouth snaps closed. Your cry is too big for the room, leaving you both to wade the echo--you with tears in your eyes, Tristan on the knife-sharp edge of breaking down with you, his body trembling from shoulder to toe. You both breathe in. You wipe away your tears, and he cools, solidifies, as if ice has filled in where he'd just begun to crack. He rests a hand on your shoulder. (text-style:"bold")["This makes me a hero, remember? I was hoping my baby sister would be proud of me."] You nod. Sniffle. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I guess I can be."] (text-style:"bold")["Hey. Let's go get our brothers,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["It's our first Solstice here in the capital--I bet we can still hear the music from the roof."] [[<a>"Okay," you say, quietly.->C2 Apothecarist 5A]] [[<a>"I can't," you say. "I should really go to bed."->C2 Apothecarist 5B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Tristan ruffles your hair--something he hasn't done in years. Of your four remaining brothers, he's the only one besides Cyrus who treats you like the thirteen-year-old you are. (text-style:"bold")["It's okay. You can be mean to me,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["I'm going to miss you, Willa-bean."] Your jaw aches with the threat of tears. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Stop talking like that. Please."] (text-style:"bold")["Promise you'll think of me on your adventures with father. You know I loved his stories as much as you did."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I said stop, Tristan!"] Tristan's mouth snaps closed. Your cry is too big for the room, leaving you both to wade the echo--you with tears in your eyes, Tristan on the knife-sharp edge of breaking down with you, his body trembling from shoulder to toe. You both breathe in. You wipe away your tears, and he cools, solidifies, as if ice has filled in where he'd just begun to crack. He rests a hand on your shoulder. (text-style:"bold")["This makes me a hero, remember? I was hoping my baby sister would be proud of me."] You nod. Sniffle. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I guess I can be."] (text-style:"bold")["Hey. Let's go get our brothers,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["It's our first Solstice here in the capital--I bet we can still hear the music from the roof."] [[<m>"Okay," you say, quietly.->C2 Mapmaker 5A]] [[<m>"I can't," you say, resisting. "I should really go to bed."->C2 Mapmaker 5B]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["I wish I could. But I've made peace with it," he says. "I figured if the Hunt took Verran and the twins, age-order, I could only be next."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Well, that's a stupid way to think."] (text-style:"bold")["You just keep your head up, okay?"] he says, then he ruffles your hair--something he hasn't done in years. Of your four remaining brothers, he's the only one besides Cyrus who treats you like the teenager you are. (text-style:"bold")["I'm going to miss you, Willa-bean."] Your jaw aches with the threat of tears. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Stop talking like that. Please."] (text-style:"bold")["Promise you'll think of me on your adventures with father. You know I loved his stories as much as you did."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I said stop, Tristan!"] Tristan's mouth snaps closed. Your cry is too big for the room, leaving you both to wade the echo--you with tears in your eyes, Tristan on the knife-sharp edge of breaking down with you, his body trembling from shoulder to toe. You both breathe in. You wipe away your tears, and he cools, solidifies, as if ice has filled in where he'd just begun to crack. He rests a hand on your shoulder. (text-style:"bold")["This makes me a hero, remember? I was hoping my baby sister would be proud of me."] You nod. Sniffle. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I guess I can be."] (text-style:"bold")["Hey. Let's go get our brothers,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["It's our first Solstice here in the capital--I bet we can still hear the music from the roof."] [[<m>"Okay," you say, quietly.->C2 Mapmaker 5A]] [[<m>"I can't," you say. "I should really go to bed."->C2 Mapmaker 5B]]]

(font: "Garamond")[You follow Tristan to the room he shares with Adam and Siegfried, then to yours and Cyrus's. He's like a child again, rousing your brothers from sleep with hushed excitement, grabbing their coats from the wardrobe and flinging them at their feet. While he cajoles Cyrus out of a dream, you tuck the shell beneath your pillow, then fumble around for your gloves. When your brothers have dressed, the five of you climb to the roof on tiptoes. The cold that meets you jabs and tugs, making red scrunches of your faces. Flurries melt on your cheeks. You settle in the snow-covered dip between your townhouse and the next, dig your heels into the cracks between the roof tiles, and watch the festival lights set the clouded sky aflame. The music Tristan promised is distant--the thin, folksy melody of a fiddle, a woman's voice half lost to the wind--but you lean into it all the same, hungering to hear the words of the song, as if they might offer some hope of your brother's survival. (text-style:"bold")["Listen to that, Tristan. She's singing for you,"] says Siegfried, jabbing him in the side. (text-style:"bold")[//Probably one of his hundreds of admirers,//] Adam signs, you think, though it's hard to make out his motions in the near dark. (text-style:"bold")["He'll be batting them away like flies at the southern gate tomorrow,"] says Siegfried. A bare hand comes to wrap your gloved one: Cyrus, seeking warmth, but too stoic to ask for it. You scooch closer. His teeth are chattering. (text-style:"bold")["Are you coming? To the gate?"] he whispers. [[<a>"Won't mother and father make me?"->C2 Apothecarist 5A-1]] [[<a>"Yes...why wouldn't I?"->C2 Apothecarist 5A-2]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Tristan frowns, a shadowed 'v' appearing above his nose. (text-style:"bold")["Bed? This early?"] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["It's not //that// early,"] you argue. (text-style:"bold")["It is for you."] He waggles his brow, which means he knows of all the nights you've bothered Cyrus with your little circle of candles, your apothecary books perched on your knees and magic dammed up in your fingers, waiting to break free. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["All that studying--you must really want to surpass mother one day."] Red seeps into your cheeks. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Do you have to tease me about it?"] (text-style:"bold")["Well, I was never so excited about fishing,"] he says, almost laughing. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["That's true,"] you mutter. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I remember your birthday that year, when you came trudging in from school with that awful rusted fishing rod."] (text-style:"bold")["Hey, it was better than the other choice,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["I'm sure plenty of boys become wonderful midwives, but I don't think I was going to be one of them."] He throws you a wink. (text-style:"bold")["Besides, I wanted to go my own way. I'm proud of you, though. For taking after mom. You're going to be a wonderful healer someday."] [[<a>"I...thank you, Tris."->C2 Apothecarist 5B-1]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You follow Tristan to the room he shares with Adam and Siegfried, then to yours and Cyrus's. He's like a child again, rousing your brothers from sleep with hushed excitement, grabbing their coats from the wardrobe and flinging them at their feet. While he cajoles Cyrus out of a dream, you tuck the shell beneath your pillow, then fumble around for your gloves. When your brothers have dressed, the five of you climb to the roof on tiptoes. The cold that meets you jabs and tugs, making red scrunches of your faces. Flurries melt on your cheeks. You settle in the snow-covered dip between your townhouse and the next, dig your heels into the cracks between the roof tiles, and watch the festival lights set the clouded sky aflame. The music Tristan promised is distant--the thin, folksy melody of a fiddle, a woman's voice half lost to the wind--but you lean into it all the same, hungering to hear the words of the song, as if they might offer some hope of your brother's survival. (text-style: "bold")["Listen to that, Tristan. She's singing for you,"] says Siegfried, jabbing him in the side. (text-style: "bold")[//Probably one of his hundreds of admirers,//] Adam signs, you think, though it's hard to make out his motions in the near dark. (text-style: "bold")["He'll be batting them away like flies at the southern gate tomorrow,"] says Siegfried. A bare hand comes to wrap your gloved one: Cyrus, seeking warmth, but too stoic to ask for it. You scooch closer. His teeth are chattering. (text-style: "bold")["Are you coming? To the gate?"] he whispers. [[<m>"Won't mother and father make me?"->C2 Mapmaker 5A-1]] [[<m>"Yes...why wouldn't I?"->C2 Mapmaker 5A-2]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Tristan frowns, a shadowed 'v' appearing above his nose. (text-style:"bold")["Bed? This early?"] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["It's not //that// early,"] you argue. (text-style:"bold")["It is for you."] He waggles his brow, which means he knows of all the nights you've bothered Cyrus with your little circle of candles, your atlases perched on your knees as your memorize the shapes of places you've never been. (text-style:"bold")["All that studying--you must really want to surpass father one day."] Red seeps into your cheeks. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Do you have to tease me about it?"] (text-style:"bold")["Well, I was never so excited about fishing,"] he says, almost laughing. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["That's true,"] you mutter. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I remember your birthday that year, when you came trudging in from school with that awful rusted fishing rod."] (text-style:"bold")["Hey, it was better than the other choice,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["I'm sure plenty of boys become decent midwives, but I don't think I was going to be one of them."] He throws you a wink. (text-style:"bold")["Besides, I wanted to go my own way. I'm proud of you, though. For taking after dad."] [[<m>"I...thank you, Tris."->C2 Mapmaker 5B-1]] ]

(font: "Garamond")[[[<a>Two days later...->C2 Apothecarist 6-1]]]

(font:"Garamond")[[[<m>Two days later...->C2 Mapmaker 6-1]]]

(font: "Garamond")[The sun shines again on the day of the monster's return. You are the first to see it rise, your body tucked into the front right corner of your mother's shop, another book on your knees. Frost is lambent on the windows, marching in sharp, glassy order towards the center of each pane. The shop will not open today--the Solstice holiday carries on until the monster is no more. Overhead, you hear footsteps in the kitchen: your mother and father, tersely crossing each other's paths. Since your father stayed behind for Tristan's sendoff, your mother has spoken to him in little but clipped phrases, orders to lock up the shop and scrub the ink off his hands before cooking. You take a sip of your morning tea, already chilled from the cold seeping through the walls. Today, your brothers will ask you along to the river bridge, where you'll watch the wall guards bring in the monster. "To see if it's Tristan," Cyrus insists, but you know he means, //to make sure it isn't.// You're going. You've already decided that much. You will not be like your father, afraid to witness a loss you cannot evade. You run your hands over the opening of your book, where a constellation of puckers marks the places your tears have dried, and turn the page. [[<a>//It's time to grow up.//->C2 Apothecarist 6-2]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The sun shines again on the day of the monster's return. You are the first to see it rise, your body tucked into the front right corner of your mother's shop, another book on your knees. Frost is lambent on the windows, marching in sharp, glassy order towards the center of each pane. The shop will not open today--the Solstice holiday carries on until the monster is no more. Overhead, you hear footsteps in the kitchen: your mother and father, tersely crossing each other's paths. Since your father stayed behind for Tristan's sendoff, your mother has spoken to him in little but clipped phrases, orders to lock up the shop and scrub the ink off his hands before cooking. Fear sticks like a barb in your stomach. You hope he won't cower away on your journeys--that his meandering tales of adventure are true. You take a sip of your morning tea, already chilled from the cold seeping through the walls. Today, your brothers will ask you along to the river bridge, where you'll watch the wall guards bring in the monster. "To see if it's Tristan," Cyrus insists, but you know he means, //to make sure it isn't.// You're going. You've already decided that much. You will not be like your father, afraid to witness a loss you cannot evade. You run your hands over the opening of your book, where a constellation of puckers marks the places your tears have dried, and turn the page. [[<m>//It's time to grow up.//->C2 Mapmaker 6-2]]]

(font: "Garamond")[There is a diagram of a flower beneath your fingers, its sickle-shaped petals curled towards a sky that ends at the top of the page. It is the //Mesecca lacrimada//, according to the miniscule print beneath. "The Weeping Moon." Per the description, its petals and stem secrete a fatal toxin, but its roots, perfectly innocuous, can be used to treat a stomachache. Instructions follow on how to safely harvest the roots, but you can barely read on before your brothers come thundering into the shop. (text-style: "bold")["Willa? Are you coming?"] Cyrus's voice sounds from the backstairs. Adam and Siegfried fill in behind him, and Tristan's absence sets a sting in your heart. //Be strong, Willa,// a voice whispers in your mind, though you're not sure if it's your own, [[<a>or Tristan's.->C2 Apothecarist 6-3]]]

(font: "Garamond")[There is a diagram of a flower beneath your fingers, its sickle-shaped petals curled towards a sky that ends at the top of the page. It is the //Mesecca lacrimada//, according to the miniscule print beneath. "The Weeping Moon." Per the description, its petals and stem secrete a fatal toxin, but its roots, when boiled, can be distilled into ink. A map fettered in purple blotches sprawls beneath it, identifying where the flower grows throughout the Kingdom. (text-style: "bold")["Willa? Are you coming?"] Cyrus's voice sounds from the backstairs. Adam and Siegfried fill in behind him, and Tristan's absence sets a sting in your heart. //Be strong, Willa,// a voice whispers in your mind, though you're not sure if it's your own, [[<m>or Tristan's.->C2 Mapmaker 6-3]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You are seventeen years old[[...->C3 Mapmaker 1]]] .

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I'm coming!"] you tell your brothers. You shut your book and climb down from the windowsill, pulling your gloves on as you walk. You reach the stairs just in time for your mother to join you. She wears a coat you've never seen before, black and waxy like her work smocks. Last night, you'd heard her sobbing, but today, any grief or fear is schooled neatly off her face. (text-style:"bold")["You four run along,"] she says, waving you on. (text-style:"bold")["I won't be far behind."] [[<a>"What about father?" you ask.->C2 Apothecarist 6-4]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I'm coming!"] you tell your brothers. You shut your book and climb down from the windowsill, pulling your gloves on as you walk. You reach the stairs just in time for your mother to join you. She wears a coat you've never seen before, black and waxy like her work smocks. Last night, you'd heard her sobbing, but today, any grief or fear is schooled neatly off her face. (text-style:"bold")["You four run along,"] she says, waving you on. (text-style:"bold")["I won't be far behind."] [[<m>"What about father?" you ask.->C2 Mapmaker 6-4]]]

(font:"Garamond")[...and seven-parts [[<a>empty.->C3 Apothecarist 2]]]

(font:"Garamond")[A (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#a9bfbf")[chain] around your wrist now bears a charm for each brother: Verran's silver locket, carved jade leaves for Bael and Olean, the river shell from Tristan. Siegfried's old belfry key, and an amber stone for Adam. For Cyrus, a severed raven's beak, lacquered in glass-clear resin. When you must walk alone at night, you crook it between your fingers like a claw. He always did want to protect you. But not like this. [[<a>//Not like this,//->C3 Apothecarist 3]] you think as you pile cloves of garlic into your mortar and watch autumn make its leave through the backroom windows, the first winter snowclouds drifting in gray, gauzy pulls over the sky. ]

(font:"Garamond")[...and seven-parts [[<m>empty.->C3 Mapmaker 2]]]

(font:"Garamond")[A (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#a9bfbf")[chain] around your wrist now bears a charm for each brother: Verran's silver locket, carved jade leaves for Bael and Olean, the river shell from Tristan. Siegfried's old belfry key, and an amber stone for Adam. For Cyrus, a severed raven's beak, lacquered in glass-clear resin. When you must walk alone at night, you crook it between your fingers like a claw. He always did want to protect you. But not like this. [[<m>//Not like this,//->C3 Mapmaker 3]] you think as you trace your brush along the penciled curve of the Aever River, following every delicate shiver of your father's lines to where the water disappears beyond the Curse. ]

(font:"Garamond")[The central city of Aeverdam coils itself like a viper around the massive Aever Square; it is a maddening twist of avenues and alleyways, all wrought from the same unremarkable cobblestone. The closest thing to a main thoroughfare is the waterside road, where the Aever River cuts an unhindered path between two half-frozen slabs of street. An impressive lock heralds its entry from the south, crowned in a sepulchral white archway. From where your street flays open to the waterside, you can see only the leftward edge of it, milky gold under the rising sun. As your mother expected, the waterside is already crammed with townsfolk. The people you pass speak of food and new garments, plans for the day off. Nothing of death. Nothing of monsters. When you reach something of an opening in the crowd, Siegfried starts walking backwards. (text-style:"bold")["Look at this,"] he says. A (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#acacac")[silver key], blotted with cataracts of tarnish, jabs out from between his fingers. (text-style:"bold")["I got the key to the belfry."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["At the monastery?"] you ask. He nods. (text-style:"bold")["The belltower looks out over the bridge,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["We'll be able to see the monster over everyone else."] (text-style:"bold")["How'd you manage that?"] asks Cyrus. (text-style:"bold")["//Stole it, I'm sure,//"] Adam signs. (text-style:"bold")["No, Adam,"] says Siegfried, adding a roll of his eyes. (text-style:"bold")["It was entrusted to me. Next week, I'm going to be the bellringer."] (text-style:"bold")["//The bells don't ring themselves nowadays?//"] (text-style:"bold")["It's tradition,"] Cyrus supplies. (text-style:"bold")["There's a whole floor of monastery records at the archives--I read once that people have been ringing the bells since before the Curse. The Sisters even used to choose bellringers through the Oracle."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["And now they just choose sacrifices,"] you say, an acid bite to your words. Siegfried tenses, his mouth a grim strike across his face. (text-style:"bold")["We should move on ahead. Crowd's getting thicker."] [[<a>"Let's get going then," you say. Siegfried looks eager now, his eyes darting ahead, and despite the money in his pockets, you doubt any of you are hungry on a morning like today.->C2 Apothecarist 7-1A]] [[<a>"What about breakfast?" you ask. "Mother gave us money--we should get something to eat, like she said."->C2 Apothecarist 7-1B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The central city of Aeverdam coils itself like a viper around the massive Aever Square; it is a maddening twist of avenues and alleyways, all wrought from the same unremarkable cobblestone. The closest thing to a main thoroughfare is the waterside road, where the Aever River cuts an unhindered path between two half-frozen slabs of street. An impressive lock heralds its entry from the south, crowned in a sepulchral white archway. From where your street flays open to the waterside, you can see only the leftward edge of it, milky gold under the rising sun. As your mother expected, the waterside is already crammed with townsfolk. The people you pass speak of food and new garments, plans for the day off. Nothing of death. Nothing of monsters. When you reach something of an opening in the crowd, Siegfried starts walking backwards. (text-style:"bold")["Look at this,"] he says. A (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#acacac")[silver key], blotted with cataracts of tarnish, jabs out from between his fingers. (text-style:"bold")["I got the key to the belfry."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["At the monastery?"] you ask. He nods. (text-style:"bold")["The belltower looks out over the bridge,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["We'll be able to see the monster over everyone else."] (text-style:"bold")["How'd you manage that?"] asks Cyrus. (text-style:"bold")["//Stole it, I'm sure,//"] Adam signs. (text-style:"bold")["No, Adam,"] says Siegfried, adding a roll of his eyes. (text-style:"bold")["It was entrusted to me. Next week, I'm going to be the bellringer."] (text-style:"bold")["//The bells don't ring themselves nowadays?//"] (text-style:"bold")["It's tradition,"] Cyrus supplies. (text-style:"bold")["There's a whole floor of monastery records at the archives--I read once that people have been ringing the bells since before the Curse. The Sisters even used to choose bellringers through the Oracle."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["And now they just choose sacrifices,"] you say, an acid bite to your words. Siegfried tenses, his mouth a grim strike across his face. (text-style:"bold")["We should move on ahead. Crowd's getting thicker."] [[<m>"Let's get going then," you say. Siegfried looks eager now, his eyes darting ahead, and despite the money in his pockets, you doubt any of you are hungry on a morning like today.->C2 Mapmaker 7-1A]] [[<m>"What about breakfast?" you ask. "Mother gave us money--we should get something to eat, like she said."->C2 Mapmaker 7-1B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The (text-style:"bold")[monastery] sits a block back from the river bridge, visible by its three red-brick spires. Near the helm of the middle tower, a great astronomical clock ticks steadily towards the eighth hour of day. Sun creeps across it, setting fire to its interlocking spheres of gold and glass. (text-style:"bold")["Look up there,"] says Siegfried, pointing. Where his finger lands, a ledge juts out from beneath the clock. (text-style:"bold")["That's where we're going."] (text-style:"bold")[//That looks like a lot of stairs,//] says Adam. (text-style:"bold")["You're welcome to stay behind, Adam,"] says Siegfried. (text-style:"bold")[//"No way!"//] You and Cyrus snicker to one another, and for a brief, horrible moment, everything feels normal. But then you remember. That this is a day of mourning. That Tristan should be there, laughing along with you. That Verran and Bael and Olean should be here, too, maybe with young new families of their own. Siegfried leads you away from the waterside, towards the monastery's staff entrance. As you walk, you feel a chill up the column of your spine, a prickling awareness of presence. You turn around. [[<a>A woman is staring at you.->C2 Apothecarist 7-2A]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Willa's right--I'm starved,"] says Cyrus. (text-style:"bold")["The merchants' stalls should be set up around the bridge,"] says Siegfried. He nods to a growing tangle of bodies, steam aloft in shimmering clouds above their heads. (text-style:"bold")["We can head down that way, then circle back to the monastery."] (text-style:"bold")[//"Do we have time for that?"//] asks Adam. (text-style:"bold")["Does it matter?"] Cyrus shoots back. (text-style:"bold")["If we don't, we'll just have to fight for a view."] (text-style:"bold")["Well, maybe not fight..."] Siegfried trails off. (text-style:"bold")["Whatever, Saint Siegfried--you can hang back with Willa. Me and Adam?"] Cyrus cracks his fists together. (text-style:"bold")["We don't mind a little tussle."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Hey!"] you exclaim. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Who said I can't tussle?"] You mock rolling up your sleeves, because it's far too cold to actually do it, and Cyrus and Adam take one fast look at you, then each other, before darting off into the crowd. [[<a>"Oh no you don't!" you call, racing to reach their heels. "Get back here!"->C2 Apothecarist 7-1Bi]] [[<a>"Well, there they go," you say to Siegfried. He offers only a tired smile, one too old and wise for his sixteen years, then you take off together, chasing the sound of your brothers' laughter above the crowds.->C2 Apothecarist 7-1Bii]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Willa's right--I'm starved,"] says Cyrus. (text-style:"bold")["The merchants' stalls should be set up around the bridge,"] says Siegfried. He nods to a growing tangle of bodies, steam aloft in shimmering clouds above their heads. (text-style:"bold")["We can head down that way, then circle back to the monastery."] (text-style:"bold")[//"Do we have time for that?"//] asks Adam. (text-style:"bold")["Does it matter?"] Cyrus shoots back. (text-style:"bold")["If we don't, we'll just have to fight for a view."] (text-style:"bold")["Well, maybe not fight..."] Siegfried trails off. (text-style:"bold")["Whatever, Saint Siegfried--you can hang back with Willa. Me and Adam?"] Cyrus cracks his fists together. (text-style:"bold")["We don't mind a little tussle."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Hey!"] you exclaim. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Who said I can't tussle?"] You mock rolling up your sleeves, because it's far too cold to actually do it, and Cyrus and Adam take one fast look at you, then each other, before darting off into the crowd. [[<m>"Oh no you don't!" you call, racing to reach their heels. "Get back here!"->C2 Mapmaker 7-1Bi]] [[<m>"Well, there they go," you say to Siegfried. He offers only a tired smile, one too old and wise for his sixteen years, then you take off together, chasing the sound of your brothers' laughter above the crowds.->C2 Mapmaker 7-1Bii]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You tug on Siegfried's coat. He turns around, sees as you do. A woman--gaunt and wide-eyed--standing still in the flux of the crowd, her hands clasped before her chest as if in prayer. (text-style:"bold")["Hey, this way,"] Siegfried mutters, shepherding Adam and Cyrus under his arms. (text-style: "bold")["I think she needs our help."] [[<a>"Right. Let's go talk to her."->C2 Apothecarist 7-2B]] [[<a>"Wait. We don't know what she wants--we should just get onto the monastery."->C2 Apothecarist 7-2C]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold")["Oh, thank you,"] the woman says with a sigh so heavy, it nearly buckles her knees. (text-style:"bold")["I'm going to search the monastery steps again. Could some of you go to the //bridge//, and the others check the //alleys// back that way?"] [[<a>"I'll go to the bridge," you say, perhaps a bit too quickly.</a>->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-1A]] [[<a>You say nothing. One way or another, you'll go trundling after one of your brothers.->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-1B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["Alright then,"] says the woman. (text-style: "bold")["I'll ask someone else. Sorry to bother you."] She shuffles off, her coat pulled tight against her as she scans the crowd, calling the name //Inigo// over the heads of passersby. (text-style: "bold")["I feel kind of bad,"] says Cyrus. (text-style: "bold")["But she'll find him, right?"] (text-style: "bold")[//"Of course she will. Seven year olds are stupid. They don't get very far, even when they try."//] (text-style: "bold")["Honestly, I can't argue with that,"] says Cyrus. (text-style: "bold")["Willa? You ready to go."] [[<a>You nod, closing your fist around the silver key, and follow your brothers to the monastery garden.->C2 Apothecarist 7-2C GARDEN]]]

(font: "Garamond")[The bells will soon ring to make way for the monster, but for now, the river bridge is a flurry of activity--there are few ways you and Cyrus can even pass through, let alone a cart and soldiers. Up ahead, you spot three young boys leaning on the bridge's stone railing, their hair mussed to varying levels of curl by the wind. The closest boy is taller than the others, but you see the telltale red of a school scarf wrapped about his neck. The second and third boys wear them as well, bright little slashes peeking out of their collars. They're around the same height, though the middle boy's hair is darker. [[<a>Talk to the closest boy.->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ CY ESPER 1]] [[<a>Talk to the middle boy.->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ CY INIGO 1]] [[<a>Talk to the third boy.->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ CY BODHY 1]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Me too,"] Cyrus follows. He latches a hand onto your sleeve. (text-style:"bold")["Then my brother Adam and I will look around the alleys,"] Siegfried tells the woman. Her eyebrows lift at the word //brother//, but he's too busy catching Adam's scowl to notice. (text-style:"bold")["Excuse him,"] Cyrus says. (text-style:"bold")["Adam's a sourpuss. But don't worry--Saint Siegfried here will keep him in check."] (text-style:"bold")["Oh, thank you, then,"] says the woman. (text-style:"bold")["Are you all--"] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Siblings?"] you offer. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Yep, all fi--//four// of us. All four of us."] Tension congeals between you, your brothers standing on edge at your slip of the tongue, but Siegfried is quick to dissolve it. (text-style:"bold")["Well, there's no use just standing around. Let's split up."] He departs with Adam, and [[<a>you and Cyrus take off towards the river bridge.->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 BRIDGE CY]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["I'll go to the bridge!"] Cyrus volunteers. He tugs on the sleeve of your coat. (text-style: "bold")["Willa can come with me."] (text-style: "bold")["That leaves Adam and me to the alleys,"] says Siegfried. (text-style: "bold")["Unless you don't want to go, Willa."] You think of the monster rolling in early, of being mere feet from the wall guards when they bring in either Tristan or the boy they sent to die with him, and your stomach twists. [[<a>"No," you say to Cyrus, indignant. "I'll go with Siegfried."->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 ALLEYS]] [[<a>You shake it off--you resolved to be brave this morning, and you won't fold so easily. "Okay, Cyrus. Lead the way."->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 BRIDGE CY]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Their deaths were all the same, exactly one year each apart. An anomaly on the surface, but not when a holy fate is pulling at the strings. Your brothers are dead, simply, [[<a>because the Kingdom of Aeverdam wants to break its Curse.->C1 Apothecarist 3]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Their deaths were all the same, exactly one year each apart. An anomaly on the surface, but not when a holy fate is pulling at the strings. Your brothers are dead, simply, [[<m>because the Kingdom of Aeverdam wants to break its Curse.->C1 Mapmaker 3]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Oh, Willa!"] she exclaims. She leaps from her seat and embraces you--she smells of her work, of sassafras and garlic and the alkaline heat of magic. (text-style:"bold")["I knew it!"] You return her embrace, but your body trembles. Tears come full and sudden down your cheeks. It is relief, you realize. The impossible choice is over, and there is little worry to be had. Gently, you pull away from your mother, but she holds onto your shoulders, pride ablaze in her smile. (text-style:"bold")["Look at you,"] she croons. (text-style:"bold")["Our own little healer."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Do you think I'll be good at it?"] you ask. (text-style:"bold")["Of course you will. You're my daughter,"] she says. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["And that should be enough?"] She nods. (text-style:"bold")["There is magic in you, Willa,"] she whispers, adding a squeeze of your shoulders. (text-style:"bold")["I feel it."] And for the first time in your thirteen years, [[<a>you feel it, too.->Chapter Two: The Monster and the Martyr A]]]

(font: "Garamond")[You run to him. He closes you in strong arms, in the smell of vanilla frosting and the autumn wind, and the moment your hands cross the high of his back, tears come running down your cheeks. It is relief, you realize. The impossible choice is over, and there is little worry to be had. Gently, you pull away from your father, but he holds onto your shoulders, pride ablaze in his smile. (text-style:"bold")["You have much to learn, my darling."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["But you're going to teach me."] (text-style:"bold")["Everything I know,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["Though, I won't be surprised if one day, you're the one teaching me."] You grin back at him. Something warm wells up within you--something you would on any other day call magic, your mother's promise of a star beneath your skin--but looking at your father, you know it's not magic that you feel, but [[<m>hope.->Chapter Two: The Monster and the Martyr M]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Please, come to the roof with us,"] he says, closing both hands over yours. (text-style:"bold")["It won't be the same without my baby sister."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Hey--I'm not a baby anymore,"] you say. But you feel like one, knowing there's nothing you can do to keep your brother alive. Tristan sighs. (text-style:"bold")["I know that,"] he says, releasing your hands. (text-style:"bold")["But you'll always be the baby to me.]" Something dark passes his face, swift like a whispered secret. (text-colour:"#e9b2df")[//What aren't you telling me?//] you wonder, but then he's smiling again in that sad, hopeful way, and you worry it's best to just give him what he wants. [[<a>"Okay," you tell him. "Let's go."->C2 Apothecarist 5A]] [[<a>"I can't, Tristan. I'm sorry," you say. You will be strong tomorrow, when you walk with him to the gates, but for now, you deserve your weakness. "I'll see you in the morning."->C2 Apothecarist Go to bed]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Cyrus glances back at Tristan, and you follow his gaze. He doesn't hear you--the music holds him tight. (text-style:"bold")["Father isn't going,"] says Cyrus. (text-style:"bold")["I heard him talking to mother. He said...he said he can't watch another son go."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["And what of mother?"] you ask, a smidge too loudly. Cyrus shushes you. (text-style:"bold")["Of course she'll be there,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["She's //pissed// at father, though."] [[<a>You smack his arm. "Quit it. Siegfried ought to take you to the monastery with him, have the monks fix up that nasty mouth."->C2 Apothecarist 5A-4]] [[<a>"Well, now I am, too!"->C2 Apothecarist 5A-6]]]

(font: "Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold")["Because..."] Cyrus lowers his voice, (text-style:"bold")["...Father isn't going."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["What?"] (text-style:"bold")["I heard him talking to mother. He said...he said he can't watch another son go."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["And what of mother?"] you ask, a smidge too loudly. Cyrus shushes you. (text-style:"bold")["Of course she'll be there,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["She's //pissed// at father, though."] [[<a>You smack his arm. "Quit it. Siegfried ought to take you to the monastery with him, have the monks fix up that nasty mouth."->C2 Apothecarist 5A-4]] [[<a>"Well, now I am, too!"->C2 Apothecarist 5A-6]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Give it a year, and you'll have one too,"] he says, matter-of-factly, as if turning fourteen grants you the right to every word that makes your mother scowl. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Bet I won't."] His face turns serious. (text-style:"bold")["Anyway,"] he says, voice low again. (text-style:"bold")["I think you should stay with father. At home."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Why would I do that?"] you hiss. (text-style:"bold")["I don't know. He might need somebody. He was trying to get mother to stay, too, but she wasn't having it."] You think of your father--your brave, stolid father, the adventurer, the man whose steps you almost chose to follow--coiled up in his study, hidden away with his grief, and your stomach sours. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I'm not staying behind,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I came out here for Tristan, and I'll go to the gate for him, too."] (text-style:"bold")["Figures."] Cyrus rests his cheek on your shoulder and blows a sigh. His breath swirls the air in spectral puffs. (text-style:"bold")["Why's it always us, Wil?"] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Mother thinks we're cursed. Like the Kingdom."] Cyrus hums. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["You'd better not go in the Hunt next year. Or ever,"] you say. (text-style:"bold")["I won't,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["But if I do? On the Twelve Sisters, I promise I'll break that curse."] You thread your fingers, praying that's [[<a>a promise he can keep.->C2 Apothecarist 6]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Geez, Wil--keep it down."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Sorry."] His face turns serious. (text-style:"bold")["Anyway,"] he says, (text-style:"bold")["I think you should stay with father. At home."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Why would I do that?"] you hiss. (text-style:"bold")["I don't know. He might need somebody. He was trying to get mother to stay, too, but she wasn't having it."] You think of your father--your brave, stolid father, the adventurer, the man whose steps you almost chose to follow--coiled up in his study, hidden away with his grief, and your stomach sours. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I'm not staying behind,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I came out here for Tristan, and I'll go to the gate for him, too."] (text-style:"bold")["Figures."] Cyrus rests his cheek on your shoulder and blows a sigh. His breath swirls the air in spectral puffs. (text-style:"bold")["Why's it always us, Wil?"] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Mother thinks we're cursed. Like the Kingdom."] Cyrus hums. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["You'd better not go in the Hunt next year. Or ever,"] you say. (text-style:"bold")["I won't,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["But if I do? On the Twelve Sisters, I promise I'll break that curse."] You thread your fingers, praying that's [[<a>a promise he can keep.->C2 Apothecarist 6]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Your mother tenses--for a moment, the stoic mask shimmers, baring the sadness beneath. She rummages in her pocket and draws out a few silver coins. Deposits them in your hand. (text-style:"bold")["Here,"] she says. (text-style:"bold")["Buy yourselves something sweet for breakfast. With so many people out, it should look like a regular Saturday market."] You hand the money off to Siegfried (//your now-oldest brother//, a bitter thought whispers). (text-style:"bold")["Thank you, Mother,"] the four of you chorus. (text-style:"bold")["Go on,"] she urges, (text-style:"bold")["before the lines get too long."] Your brothers head straight for the door, but you linger, watching your mother. She seems to sway, as if her boots are only grazing the step, as if she might float off into the recesses of her grief. (text-style:"bold")["Willa, my dear,"] she says, in a sweet, cloying way that sounds wrong in the rasp of her voice. (text-style:"bold")["If you don't get after them, you're going to lose them."] You nod, then go running out the door, [[<a>chasing your brothers into the street.->C2 Apothecarist 7]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Your mother tenses--for a moment, the stoic mask shimmers, baring the sadness beneath. She rummages in her pocket and draws out a few silver coins. Deposits them in your hand. (text-style:"bold")["Here,"] she says. (text-style:"bold")["Buy yourselves something sweet for breakfast. With so many people out, it should look like a regular Saturday market."] You hand the money off to Siegfried (//your now-oldest brother//, a bitter thought whispers). (text-style:"bold")["Thank you, Mother,"] the four of you chorus. (text-style:"bold")["Go on,"] she urges, (text-style:"bold")["before the lines get too long."] Your brothers head straight for the door, but you linger, watching your mother. She seems to sway, as if her boots are only grazing the step, as if she might float off into the recesses of her grief. (text-style:"bold")["Willa, my dear,"] she says, in a sweet, cloying way that sounds wrong in the rasp of her voice. (text-style:"bold")["If you don't get after them, you're going to lose them."] You nod, then go running out the door, [[<m>chasing your brothers into the street.->C2 Mapmaker 7]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You follow Siegfried to where the woman stands, unmoving even as he waves to her. (text-style:"bold")["Can we help you, Miss?"] he asks. (text-style:"bold")["I'm looking for my son,"] she says. (text-style:"bold")["Will you help me find him?"] You exchange glances with Adam and Cyrus. They share your uncertainty. (text-style:"bold")["Where was he last?"] Cyrus asks. He gives her his best recordkeeper's gaze, inquisitive and dissecting at once. She worries the buttons on her coat--you notice they're coming unsewn. (text-style:"bold")["We were coming from down that way,"] she stammers, nodding to the avenue behind her. (text-style:"bold")["We live near the southside butcher's. We were walking up to the riverside, but he got out ahead of me and I haven't seen him since."] She shivers, eyes darting. (text-style:"bold")["Oh, you must think I'm a terrible mother."] (text-style:"bold")["Not at all,"] says Siegfried. (text-style:"bold")["If you tell us a little more about your son, we could split up, scout around the block."] Adam nudges Siegfried in the arm. (text-style:"bold")[//"Split up? The guards could be coming in any minute! We can't miss the monster."//] The woman ignores him and presses on. (text-style:"bold")[My Inigo's a little thing, seven years, comes just up to my shoulders. Wearing his red school scarf. Oh! And his hair. It's just like yours,"] she says, pointing to Adam's thicket of red-amber curls. (text-style:"bold")["Will you really help me?"] Siegfried and Cyrus are silent. Adam stares. Your brothers want /you/ to choose. [[<a>"Of course we'll help you," you say to the woman.->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-1]] [[<a>"I'm sorry," you tell the woman. "We really have somewhere to be."->C2 Apothecarist 7-3]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["Wil's right,"] says Cyrus. (text-style: "bold")["It won't be long before the guards come in with the monster."] Siegfried looks back at the woman, and then at you. (text-style: "bold")["You three go on ahead--I'll see if I can't help her,"] says Siegfried. He drops his silver belfry (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour: "#acacac")[key] in your hand. (text-style: "bold")["Go through the prayer gardens and take the backstairs to the middle tower. If anyone tries to stop you, tell them I'm waiting for you at the top."] Adam's jaw drops. (text-style: "bold")[//"You want us to lie to the clergy?"//] (text-style: "bold")["No lie in my being late,"] says Siegfried. (text-style: "bold")["Now, go--and stick together, alright? I'll meet you there."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Siegfried, please,"] you plead. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I want you to come with us."] (text-style: "bold")["Fine, then. I'll lead the way."] [[<a>Closing your fist around the silver key, you follow your brothers to the gate of the monastery gardens.->C2 Apothecarist 7-2C GARDEN]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Cyrus glances back at Tristan, and you follow his gaze. He doesn't hear you--the music holds him tight. (text-style:"bold")["Father isn't going,"] says Cyrus. (text-style:"bold")["I heard him talking to mother. He said...he said he can't watch another son go."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["And what of mother?"] you ask, a smidge too loudly. Cyrus shushes you. (text-style:"bold")["Of course she'll be there,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["She's //pissed// at father, though."] [[<m>You smack his arm. "Quit it. Siegfried ought to take you to the monastery with him, have the monks fix up that nasty mouth."->C2 Mapmaker 5A-4]] [[<m>"Well, now I am, too!"->C2 Mapmaker 5A-6]]]

(font: "Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold")["Because..."] Cyrus lowers his voice, (text-style:"bold")["...Father isn't going."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["What?"] (text-style:"bold")["I heard him talking to mother. He said...he said he can't watch another son go."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["And what of mother?"] you ask, a smidge too loudly. Cyrus shushes you. (text-style:"bold")["Of course she'll be there,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["She's //pissed// at father, though."] [[<m>You smack his arm. "Quit it. Siegfried ought to take you to the monastery with him, have the monks fix up that nasty mouth."->C2 Mapmaker 5A-4]] [[<m>"Well, now I am, too!"->C2 Mapmaker 5A-6]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Give it a year, and you'll have one too,"] he says, matter-of-factly, as if turning fourteen grants you the right to every word that makes your mother scowl. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Bet I won't."] His face turns serious. (text-style:"bold")["Anyway,"] he says, voice low again. (text-style:"bold")["I think you should stay with father. At home."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Why would I do that?"] you hiss. (text-style:"bold")["I don't know. He might need somebody. He was trying to get mother to stay, too, but she wasn't having it."] You think of your father--your brave, stolid father, the adventurer, the man whose steps you almost chose to follow--coiled up in his study, hidden away with his grief, and your stomach sours. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I'm not staying behind,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I came out here for Tristan, and I'll go to the gate for him, too."] (text-style:"bold")["Figures."] Cyrus rests his cheek on your shoulder and blows a sigh. His breath swirls the air in spectral puffs. (text-style:"bold")["Why's it always us, Wil?"] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Mother thinks we're cursed. Like the Kingdom."] Cyrus hums. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["You'd better not go in the Hunt next year. Or ever,"] you say. (text-style:"bold")["I won't,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["But if I do? On the Twelve Sisters, I promise I'll break that curse."] You thread your fingers, praying that's [[<m>a promise he can keep.->C2 Mapmaker 6]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Geez, Wil--keep it down."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Sorry."] His face turns serious. (text-style:"bold")["Anyway,"] he says, (text-style:"bold")["I think you should stay with father. At home."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Why would I do that?"] you hiss. (text-style:"bold")["I don't know. He might need somebody. He was trying to get mother to stay, too, but she wasn't having it."] You think of your father--your brave, stolid father, the adventurer, the man whose steps you almost chose to follow--coiled up in his study, hidden away with his grief, and your stomach sours. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I'm not staying behind,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I came out here for Tristan, and I'll go to the gate for him, too."] (text-style:"bold")["Figures."] Cyrus rests his cheek on your shoulder and blows a sigh. His breath swirls the air in spectral puffs. (text-style:"bold")["Why's it always us, Wil?"] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Mother thinks we're cursed. Like the Kingdom."] Cyrus hums. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["You'd better not go in the Hunt next year. Or ever,"] you say. (text-style:"bold")["I won't,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["But if I do? On the Twelve Sisters, I promise I'll break that curse."] You thread your fingers, praying that's [[<m>a promise he can keep.->C2 Mapmaker 6]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Please, come to the roof with us,"] he says, closing both hands over yours. (text-style:"bold")["It won't be the same without my baby sister."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Hey. I'm not a baby anymore,"] you say. But you feel like one, knowing there's nothing you can do to keep your brother alive. Tristan sighs. (text-style:"bold")["I know that,"] he says, releasing your hands. (text-style:"bold")["But you'll always be the baby to me."] Something dark passes his face, swift as a whispered secret. (text-colour:"#ccffd4")[//What aren't you telling me?//] you wonder, but then he's smiling again in that sad, hopeful way, and you worry it's best to just give him what he wants. [[<m>"Okay," you tell him. "Let's go."->C2 Mapmaker 5A]] [[<m>"I can't, Tristan. I'm sorry," you say. You will be strong tomorrow, when you walk with him to the gates, but for now, you deserve your weakness. "I'll see you in the morning."->C2 Mapmaker Go to bed]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You finally catch your brothers on the other side of the bridge, where food carts and market stalls are thronged along the roadway, their grills and oil vats packed tightly into the snowdrifts. Past a butcher's cart, three bakers' stalls are stationed in stubborn competition. The lines are getting long, just as your mother warned you. You move in a shuffle around them, craning for glimpses of the bakers' wares: savory (text-style: "bold")[fritters] veined in bright streams of oil; (text-style: "bold")[sweet breads] oozing custard and raisin, cut to look like guard hounds--or wolves; (text-style: "bold")[cranberry rolls] swimming in cinnamon-rum glaze. All of it excessively rich. Food for celebration. Your stomach rumbles anyway. (text-style: "bold")["Mother trusted Willa with the money, so,"] says Siegfried, turning to you, (text-style: "bold")["what do you want?"] To your surprise, neither Adam nor Cyrus objects. You tap a finger to your chin. Which looks best? [[<a>The fritters.->C2 Apothecarist 7C-F]] [[<a>The sweet bread.->C2 Apothecarist 7C-B]] [[<a>The cranberry rolls.->C2 Apothecarist 7C-R]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You and Siegfried catch your brothers on the other side of the bridge, where food carts and market stalls are thronged along the roadway, their grills and oil vats packed tightly into the snowdrifts. Past a butcher's cart, three bakers' stalls are stationed in stubborn competition. The lines are getting long, just as your mother warned you. You move in a shuffle around them, craning for glimpses of the bakers' wares: savory (text-style: "bold")[fritters] veined in bright streams of oil; (text-style: "bold")[sweet breads] oozing custard and raisin, cut to look like guard hounds--or wolves; (text-style: "bold")[cranberry rolls] swimming in cinnamon-rum glaze. All of it excessively rich. Food for celebration. Your stomach rumbles anyway. (text-style: "bold")["Mother trusted Willa with the money, so,"] says Siegfried, turning to you, (text-style: "bold")["what do you want?"] To your surprise, neither Adam nor Cyrus objects. You tap a finger to your chin. Which looks best? [[<a>The fritters.->C2 Apothecarist 7C-F]] [[<a>The sweet bread.->C2 Apothecarist 7C-B]] [[<a>The cranberry rolls.->C2 Apothecarist 7C-R]]]

(font: "Garamond")[The four of you serry into line for the fritter stall. The merchant is a heavily muscled woman, her hair falling in straight, greasy lops out of a bandanna--if you didn't know better, you'd guess she were a blacksmith instead of a baker. (text-style:"bold")["How many?"] she asks. You hold up four fingers. (text-style:"bold")["That'll be two silver."] Siegfried hands over the coins, and the baker pockets them in her apron. She slings the fritters into cones of waxed parchment and hands them over the cart. You thank her, and she gives you a melancholy smile, like she too knows the tragedy of the day. Or else, the tragedy of your family. You don't think about it too much. Siegfried veers you out of line with a hand on your back, and you sneak a bite of your fritter. The flavor is...underwhelming. Maybe this wasn't the best choice. But you've used all your coin and [[<a>your stomach is gurgling for another bite.->C2 Apothecarist 7-1D]]]

(font: "Garamond")[The four of you serry into line for the sweet bread stall. The merchant is a stout, elderly man. He wears a heavy pendant emblazoned with the image of Kynthia, the first of the Twelve Sisters, goddess of light and prophecy. You have prayed to her often, but as the Oracle keeps picking your brothers for the Hunt, you imagine she's long stopped listening. (text-style:"bold")["How many?"] he asks. You hold up four fingers. (text-style:"bold")["That'll be a silver each."] Siegfried hands over the coins, and the baker drops them into a sack hanging from his waist. You watch the pendant bobble and flash as he scoops four hound-shaped buns into a paper box, then closes the lid and hands them to you. Not Siegfried--//you//. And with a look in his eye that says, //"I caught you staring."// You try not to overthink it. Men will be men, so your mother tells you. Siegfried veers you out of line, and you sneak a finger and thumb beneath the box lid to steal a bite of your sweet bun. You can't take another. It's all too rich, the custard spreading like oil through your mouth. With a thick swallow, [[<a>you pass your pastry off to Adam and stuff your hands into your coatpockets.->C2 Apothecarist 7-1D]] ]

(font: "Garamond")[The four of you serry into line for the stall selling rolls. The merchant there is young and soft-jawed, likely still an apprentice. Like the rest of you, she signs as she speaks, and Adam's responding smile splits his face near in two. (text-style: "bold")["How many?"] Siegfried holds up four fingers. (text-style: "bold")["That'll be two silver."] Siegfried hands over the coins, and the merchant slings them into a bag beneath the table. She hands you your rolls on little squares of cheesecloth, and when she slides in an extra for Siegfried, Adam's smile falls clean off his lips. You cover your mouth to bottle your laughter. A bashful Siegfried thanks her, then veers the four of you out of line. As you start walking, you take your first mouthful of roll. It's delicious, full of flavor and not at all oversweet. [[<a>Your stomach rumbles for another bite.->C2 Apothecarist 7-1D]]]

(font: "Garamond")[ACT ONE: (text-style:"expand")[[[AEVERDAM->Prologue 0]]]]

(font: "Garamond")[The Curse around the Kingdom of Aeverdam is a fluid, silvery thing, bright like the edge-shine of a needle. It stretches to near invisibility as it domes over the hills and woodlands, the scant villages and farms that constellate around the bustling city at the Kingdom's heart. On clearer days, you can see it in the high of the sky, flashing with filaments of sunlight, reminding the people of Aeverdam that it is not only their walls and their soldiers that cage them. For seven-hundred years, the Curse has remained unperturbed. But one night, there comes a wound, and in a Curse such as this one, a wound is a door. [[This is where your life begins->Chapter One: Coming of Age]]: in the snow, in the night, and in the quiet, subtle gashing of an otherwise unbreakable Curse.]

(font: "Garamond")[How your blood-mother tore through the Curse that night will long remain a mystery, but one truth is certain: she came from the other side of it. She arrived on the wingtip of evening, The house belonged to Roma Corbel, a woman with seven sons, six of whom she'd adopted from plague-ridden parents. Of anyone in Aeverdam, she was the least inclined to turn away a squawking foreign child left on her doorstep. Only there was no simply leaving. Roma had felt her, your blood-mother, like a change in the wind. Unprompted, she abandoned her boys and her husband at the dinner table and walked out into the snow, where your blood-mother hovered with you bundled in her arms, her cloak flowing about her like a shadow come to life. They did not meet eyes, for that would be a dangerous thing, as the door between their worlds was already scabbing closed. Roma would raise you as though you came of her womb, a secret your oldest brothers would keep, and your youngest would believe as Little raven, it is a terrible labor to break a Curse--but for you, worse things are possible]

(font: "Garamond")[Tristan lets you go with nothing more than a frown. As you pace up the stairs, you let it curdle within you, that sad, full bow of his lips, and your limbs go fuzzy with grief. While you burrow into bed, you hear Tristan rousing Siegfried and Adam from sleep, laughing while he tosses them their coats and shoes. Across your room, Cyrus shifts on his bed. You peek above the edge of yhour quilt to find him sitting upright, a curly-haired silhouette before the tallowy glow of his bedside candle. (text-style:"bold")["They're going outside,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["Are you coming?"] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Leave me alone."] Your coarseness stuns him silent. As you retreat beneath your covers, all you hear his him puttering around, getting ready. When Tristan enters the room, you lie still, feigning sleep. You're certain he knows you're faking, but at least the blankets hide [[<a>the steady creep of tears down your cheeks.->C2 Apothecarist 6]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Tristan lets you go with nothing more than a frown. As you pace up the stairs, you let it curdle within you, that sad, full bow of his lips, and your limbs go fuzzy with grief. While you burrow into bed, you hear Tristan rousing Siegfried and Adam from sleep, laughing while he tosses them their coats and shoes. Across your room, Cyrus shifts on his bed. You peek above the edge of yhour quilt to find him sitting upright, a curly-haired silhouette before the tallowy glow of his bedside candle. (text-style:"bold")["They're going outside,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["Are you coming?"] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Leave me alone."] Your coarseness stuns him silent. As you retreat beneath your covers, all you hear his him puttering around, getting ready. When Tristan enters the room, you lie still, feigning sleep. You're certain he knows you're faking, but at least the blankets hide [[<m>the steady creep of tears down your cheeks.->C2 Mapmaker 6]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You tug on Siegfried's coat. He turns around, sees as you do. A woman--gaunt and wide-eyed--standing still in the flux of the crowd, her hands clasped before her chest as if in prayer. (text-style:"bold")["Hey, this way,"] Siegfried mutters, shepherding Adam and Cyrus under his arms. (text-style: "bold")["I think she needs our help."] [[<m>"Right. Let's go talk to her."->C2 Mapmaker 7-2B]] [[<m>"Wait. We don't know what she wants--we should just get onto the monastery."->C2 Mapmaker 7-2C]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You finally catch your brothers on the other side of the bridge, where food carts and market stalls are thronged along the roadway, their grills and oil vats packed tightly into the snowdrifts. Past a butcher's cart, three bakers' stalls are stationed in stubborn competition. The lines are getting long, just as your mother warned you. You move in a shuffle around them, craning for glimpses of the bakers' wares: savory (text-style: "bold")[fritters] veined in bright streams of oil; (text-style: "bold")[sweet breads] oozing custard and raisin, cut to look like guard hounds--or wolves; (text-style: "bold")[cranberry rolls] swimming in cinnamon-rum glaze. All of it excessively rich. Food for celebration. Your stomach rumbles anyway. (text-style: "bold")["Mother trusted Willa with the money, so,"] says Siegfried, turning to you, (text-style: "bold")["what do you want?"] To your surprise, neither Adam nor Cyrus objects. You tap a finger to your chin. Which looks best? [[<m>The fritters->C2 Mapmaker 7C-F]] [[<m>The sweet breads->C2 Mapmaker 7C-SB]] [[<m>The cranberry rolls->C2 Mapmaker 7C-R]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You and Siegfried catch your brothers on the other side of the bridge, where food carts and market stalls are thronged along the roadway, their grills and oil vats packed tightly into the snowdrifts. Past a butcher's cart, three bakers' stalls are stationed in stubborn competition. The lines are getting long, just as your mother warned you. You move in a shuffle around them, craning for glimpses of the bakers' wares: savory (text-style: "bold")[fritters] veined in bright streams of oil; (text-style: "bold")[sweet breads] oozing custard and raisin, cut to look like guard hounds--or wolves; (text-style: "bold")[cranberry rolls] swimming in cinnamon-rum glaze. All of it excessively rich. Food for celebration. Your stomach rumbles anyway. (text-style: "bold")["Mother trusted Willa with the money, so,"] says Siegfried, turning to you, (text-style: "bold")["what do you want?"] To your surprise, neither Adam nor Cyrus objects. You tap a finger to your chin. Which looks best? [[<m>The fritters.->C2 Mapmaker 7C-F]] [[<m>The sweet bread.->C2 Mapmaker 7C-SB]] [[<m>The cranberry rolls.->C2 Mapmaker 7C-R]]]

(font: "Garamond")[The four of you serry into line for the fritter stall. The merchant is a heavily muscled woman, her hair falling in straight, greasy lops out of a bandanna--if you didn't know better, you'd guess she were a blacksmith instead of a baker. (text-style:"bold")["How many?"] she asks. You hold up four fingers. (text-style:"bold")["That'll be two silver."] Siegfried hands over the coins, and the baker pockets them in her apron. She slings the fritters into cones of waxed parchment and hands them over the cart. You thank her, and she gives you a melancholy smile, like she too knows the tragedy of the day. Or else, the tragedy of your family. You don't think about it too much. Siegfried veers you out of line with a hand on your back, and you sneak a bite of your fritter. The flavor is...underwhelming. Maybe this wasn't the best choice. But you've used all your coin and [[<m>your stomach is gurgling for another bite.->C2 Mapmaker 7-1D]]]

(font: "Garamond")[The four of you serry into line for the sweet bread stall. The merchant is an elderly man, his white hair a gauzy halo about his head. He wears a heavy pendant emblazoned with the image of Kynthia, the first of the Twelve Sisters, goddess of light and prophecy. You have prayed to her often, but as the Oracle keeps picking your brothers for the Hunt, you imagine she's long stopped listening. (text-style:"bold")["How many?"] he asks. You hold up four fingers. (text-style:"bold")["That'll be a silver each."] Siegfried hands over the coins, and the baker drops them into a sack hanging from his waist. You watch the pendant bobble and flash as he scoops four hound-shaped buns into a paper box, then closes the lid and hands them to you. Not Siegfried--//you//. And with a look in his eye that says, //"I caught you staring."// You try not to overthink it. Men will be men, so your mother tells you. Siegfried veers you out of line, and you sneak a finger and thumb beneath the box lid to steal a bite of your sweet bun. You can't take another. It's all too rich, the custard spreading like oil through your mouth. With a thick swallow, [[<m>you pass your pastry off to Adam and stuff your hands into your coatpockets.->C2 Mapmaker 7-1D]]]

(font: "Garamond")[The four of you serry into line for the stall selling rolls. The merchant there is young and soft-jawed, likely still an apprentice. Like the rest of you, she signs as she speaks, and Adam's responding smile splits his face near in two. (text-style: "bold")["How many?"] Siegfried holds up four fingers. (text-style: "bold")["That'll be two silver."] Siegfried hands over the coins, and the merchant slings them into a bag beneath the table. She hands you your rolls on little squares of cheesecloth, and when she slides in an extra for Siegfried, Adam's smile falls clean off his lips. You cover your mouth to bottle your laughter. A bashful Siegfried thanks her, then veers the four of you out of line. As you start walking, you take your first mouthful of roll. [[<m>It's delicious, full of flavor and not at all oversweet. Your stomach rumbles for another bite.->C2 Mapmaker 7-1D]]]

(font: "Garamond")[By the time you reach the monastery, the crowd there has become a near motionless clot, rendering the block between the river bridge and the monastery's three brick spires almost impassable. Near the helm of the middle tower, a great astronomical clock ticks steadily towards the eighth hour of day. (text-style:"bold")["Look up there,"] says Siegfried, pointing. Where his finger lands, a ledge juts out from beneath the clock. (text-style:"bold")["That's where we're going."] (text-style:"bold")[//"That looks like a lot of stairs,"//] says Adam. (text-style:"bold")["You're welcome to stay behind, Adam,"] says Siegfried. (text-style:"bold")[//"No way!"//] You and Cyrus snicker to one another, and for a brief, horrible moment, everything feels normal. But then you remember that this is a day of mourning. That Tristan should be there, laughing along with you. That Verran and Bael and Olean should be here, too, maybe with young new families of their own. Siegfried leads you away from the waterside, towards the monastery's staff entrance. As you walk, you feel a chill up the column of your spine, a prickling awareness of presence. You turn around. [[<a>A woman is staring at you.->C2 Apothecarist 7-2A]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You follow Siegfried to where the woman stands, unmoving even as he waves to her. (text-style:"bold")["Can we help you, Miss?"] he asks. (text-style:"bold")["I'm looking for my son,"] she says. (text-style:"bold")["Will you help me find him?"] You exchange glances with Adam and Cyrus. They share your uncertainty. (text-style:"bold")["Where was he last?"] Cyrus asks. He gives her his best recordkeeper's gaze, inquisitive and dissecting at once. She worries the buttons on her coat--you notice they're coming unsewn. (text-style:"bold")["We were coming from down that way,"] she stammers, nodding to the avenue behind her. (text-style:"bold")["We live near the southside butcher's. We were walking up to the riverside, but he got out ahead of me and I haven't seen him since."] She shivers, eyes darting. (text-style:"bold")["Oh, you must think I'm a terrible mother."] (text-style:"bold")["Not at all,"] says Siegfried. (text-style:"bold")["If you tell us a little more about your son, we could split up, scout the riverside to the north and south."] Adam nudges Siegfried in the arm. (text-style:"bold")[//"Split up? The guards could be coming in any minute! We can't miss the monster."//] The woman ignores him and presses on. (text-style:"bold")["My David is a little thing, comes just up to my shoulders. Wearing a red scarf today...I think. Oh! And his hair. It's just like yours,"] she says, pointing to Adam's thicket of red-amber curls. (text-style:"bold")["Will you really help me?"] Siegfried and Cyrus are silent. Your brothers want /you/ to choose. [[<m>"Of course we'll help you," you say to the woman.->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-1]] [[<m>"I'm sorry," you tell the woman. "We really have somewhere to be."->C2 Mapmaker 7-3]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["Wil's right,"] says Cyrus. (text-style: "bold")["It won't be long before the guards come in with the monster."] Siegfried looks back at the woman, and then at you. (text-style: "bold")["You three go on ahead--I'll see if I can't help her,"] says Siegfried. He drops his silver belfry (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour: "#acacac")[key] in your hand. (text-style: "bold")["Go through the prayer gardens and take the backstairs to the middle tower. If anyone tries to stop you, tell them I'm waiting for you at the top."] Adam's jaw drops. (text-style: "bold")[//"You want us to lie to the clergy?"//] (text-style: "bold")["No lie in my being late,"] says Siegfried. (text-style: "bold")["Now, go--and stick together, alright? I'll meet you there."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Siegfried, please,"] you plead. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I want you to come with us."] (text-style: "bold")["Fine, then. I'll lead the way."] [[<m>Closing your fist around the silver key, you follow your brothers to the gate of the monastery gardens.->C2 Mapmaker 7-2C GARDEN]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold")["Oh, thank you,"] the woman says with a sigh so heavy, it nearly buckles her knees. (text-style:"bold")["I'm going to search the monastery steps again. Could some of you go to the //bridge//, and the others check the //alleys// back that way?"] [[<m>"I'll go to the bridge," you say, perhaps a bit too quickly.->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-1A]] [[<m>You say nothing. One way or another, you'll go trundling after one of your brothers.->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-1B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["Alright then,"] says the woman. (text-style: "bold")["I'll ask someone else. Sorry to bother you."] She shuffles off, her coat pulled tight against her as she scans the crowd, calling the name //Inigo// over the heads of passersby. (text-style: "bold")["I feel kind of bad,"] says Cyrus. (text-style: "bold")["But she'll find him, right?"] (text-style: "bold")[//"Of course she will. Seven year olds are stupid. They don't get very far, even when they try."//] (text-style: "bold")["Honestly, I can't argue with that,"] says Cyrus. (text-style: "bold")["Willa? You ready to go?"] [[<m>You nod, closing your fist around the silver key, and follow your brothers to the monastery garden.->C2 Mapmaker 7-2C GARDEN]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ [[<a>Chapter Three: The Voice of Seven Centuries->C3 Apothecarist]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[[[<a>Chapter Four: The Solstice->C4 Apothecarist 1]]]

[[<a>Chapter Five: The Hunt->C5 Apothecarist 1]]

(font:"Garamond")[[[<m>Chapter Three: The Voice of Seven Centuries->C3 Mapmaker]]]

(font:"Garamond")[[[<m>Chapter Four: The Solstice->C4 Mapmaker 1]]]

[[<m>Chapter Five: The Hunt->C5 Mapmaker 1]]

(font:"Garamond")[You and Siegfried scour the alleyways behind the monastery block, but they're more or less empty, rendered untraversable by high drifts of freshly-shoveled snow. There are voices up ahead, though. Children's voices, shouting gleefully over each other's stone-garbled phrases. You only worry that you're hearing wrong, and the voices are behind you, instead. (text-style:"bold")["Want to keep walking?"] Siegfried asks you. [[<a>"Yes. We made that woman a promise."->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 ALLEYS 2]] [[<a>"No. We're going to be late. We'll just have to tell her we couldn't find her son."->C2 Apothecarist 7 ABANDON QUEST]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Then, there is the learning. To break a Curse, you must learn, and learn, and learn--learn as your lungs take breath and your skin takes sun, until you are the Curse's mind and master, knowing the patterns of its flesh and the rumble of its heart, the way it strengthens and the way it comes undone. Only then will you know how [[to strike a cut that severs.->Prologue 1]] ]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Me too,"] Cyrus follows. He latches a hand onto your sleeve. (text-style:"bold")["Then my brother Adam and I will look around the alleys,"] Siegfried tells the woman. Her eyebrows lift at the word //brother//, but he's too busy catching Adam's scowl to notice. (text-style:"bold")["Excuse him,"] Cyrus says. (text-style:"bold")["Adam's a sourpuss. But don't worry--Saint Siegfried here will keep him in check."] (text-style:"bold")["Oh, thank you, then,"] says the woman. (text-style:"bold")["Are you all--"] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Siblings?"] you offer. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Yep, all fi--//four// of us. All four of us."] Tension congeals between you, your brothers standing on edge at your slip of the tongue, but Siegfried is quick to dissolve it. (text-style:"bold")["Well, there's no use just standing around. Let's split up."] He departs with Adam, and [[<m>you and Cyrus take off towards the river bridge.->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 BRIDGE CY]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["I'll go to the bridge!"] Cyrus volunteers. He tugs on the sleeve of your coat. (text-style: "bold")["Willa can come with me."] (text-style: "bold")["That leaves Adam and me to the alleys,"] says Siegfried. (text-style: "bold")["Unless you don't want to go, Willa."] You think of the monster rolling in early, of being mere feet from the wall guards when they bring in either Tristan or the boy they sent to die with him, and your stomach twists. [["No," you say to Cyrus, indignant. "I'll go with Siegfried."->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 ALLEYS]] [[<m>You shake it off--you resolved to be brave this morning, and you won't fold so easily. "Okay, Cyrus. Lead the way."->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 BRIDGE CY]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You and Siegfried scour the alleyways behind the monastery block, but they're more or less empty, rendered untraversable by high drifts of freshly-shoveled snow. There are voices up ahead, though. Children's voices, shouting gleefully over each other's stone-garbled phrases. You only worry that you're hearing wrong, and the voices are behind you, instead. (text-style:"bold")["Want to keep walking?"] Siegfried asks you. [[<m>"Yes. We made that woman a promise."->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 ALLEYS 2]] [[<m>"No. We're going to be late. We'll just have to tell her we couldn't find her son."->C2 Mapmaker 7 ABANDON QUEST]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Excuse me,"] you say to the closest boy, giving him a tap on the shoulder. He turns, his face pulled in a wind-bitten look of surprise. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Are you Inigo?"] The boy shakes his head. "Nope. I'm Esper. That's Inigo." Esper jabs a thumb over his shoulder, pointing between the other boys' heads. They're too absorbed in their little game of rock-tossing to notice Esper speaking to you. [[<a>Talk to the middle boy.->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ CY ESPER 2 INIGO]] [[<a>Talk to the furthest boy.->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ CY ESPER 2 BODHY]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Excuse me,"] you say to the middle boy, giving him a tap on the shoulder. He turns and wrinkles his face, like he's trying to recognize you. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Are you Inigo?"] His look of confusion transforms into a smile. "Yeah--do I know you?" (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Your mother sent us to look for you,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["She's waiting for you on the monastery steps."] (text-style:"bold")["Oh, okay,"] he says, shoulders falling. (text-style:"bold")["I guess she wants me to come back, then."] (text-style:"bold")["Sorry, buddy. She's been real worried about you,"] says Cyrus. [[<a>"My brother and I can walk you there."->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE 2A]] [[<a>"Do you know the way?"->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE 2B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Excuse me,"] you say to the furthest boy, giving him a tap on the shoulder. He turns, looking almost scared when he sees you. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Are you Inigo?"] The boy shakes his head. "Uh-uh. I'm Bodhy. That's Inigo right there." Bodhy jabs a thumb over his shoulder, pointing between the other boys' heads. They're too absorbed in their little game of rock-tossing to notice Bodhy speaking to you. [[<a>Talk to the middle boy.->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ CY BODHY 2 INIGO]] [[<a>Talk to the closest boy.->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ CY BODHY 2 ESPER]]]

(font: "Garamond")[You approach the blond boy with trepidation, uneager to pull him from his game. When you tap him on the shoulder, he gives you a tight-faced look, sour with judgment. (text-style:"bold")["Who are you?"] he asks bluntly. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Are you Inigo?"] (text-style:"bold")["No? I'm Ronan. Did you bonk your head?"] (text-style:"bold")["We don't know her, dingus!"] another boy calls from across the circle. You trade glances with Siegfried--he gestures to the other would-be Inigo, who's in the middle of rattling off a rhyme. [[<a>You talk to the dark-haired boy.->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ RONAN 2 LUCIO]]]

(font: "Garamond")[You approach the blond boy with trepidation, uneager to pull him from his game. When you tap him on the shoulder, his mouth makes a tiny 'o', which quickly grows into a full, snaggletoothed smile. (text-style:"bold")["Hi,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["You're pretty."] You fight the urge to roll your eyes. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["And you're Inigo?"] (text-style:"bold")["No, Miss. My name is Lucio,"] he replies, sweetly. He holds up the ball. (text-style:"bold")["Do you want to play with us?"] You trade glances with Siegfried--he gestures to the other would-be Inigo, who's in the middle of rattling off a rhyme. [[<a>"Not today, sorry. We have to keep looking for our friend."->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ LUCIO 2 RONAN]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Hi--Inigo?"] The middle boy smiles in a polite, forced way, no doubt the work of a mother who fusses over manners. "Yeah! Do I know you?" (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Your mother sent us to look for you,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["She's waiting for you on the monastery steps."] (text-style:"bold")["Oh, okay,"] he says, shoulders falling. (text-style:"bold")["I guess she wants me to come back, then."] (text-style:"bold")["Sorry, buddy. She's been real worried about you,"] says Cyrus. [[<a>"My brother and I can walk you there."->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE 2A]] [[<a>"Do you know the way?"->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE 2B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The furthest boy, who you notice up close is //much// shorter than you thought he was, looks almost scared when he sees you. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["You're Inigo?"] you ask him. He shakes his head. (text-style:"bold")["Nope, I'm Bodhy. This is Inigo."] Bodhy grabs the middle boy by the shoulders and spins him around. Inigo smiles in a polite, forced way, no doubt the work of a mother who fusses over manners. "Do I know you?" (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Your mother sent us to look for you,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["She's waiting for you on the monastery steps."] (text-style:"bold")["Oh, okay,"] he says, shoulders falling. (text-style:"bold")["I guess she wants me to come back, then."] (text-style:"bold")["Sorry, buddy. She's been real worried about you,"] says Cyrus. [[<a>"My brother and I can walk you there."->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE 2A]] [[<a>"Do you know the way?"->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE 2B]] ]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Hi--Inigo?"] The middle boy smiles in a polite, forced way, the sign of a mother who fusses over manners. "Yeah! Do I know you?" (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Your mother sent us to look for you,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["She's waiting for you on the monastery steps."] (text-style:"bold")["Oh, okay,"] he says, shoulders falling. (text-style:"bold")["I guess she wants me to come back, then."] (text-style:"bold")["Sorry, buddy. She's been real worried about you,"] says Cyrus. [[<a>"My brother and I can walk you there."->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE 2A]] [[<a>"Do you know the way?"->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE 2B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The closest boy turns to you, his face pulled in a wind-bitten look of surprise. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["You're Inigo?"] you ask him. He shakes his head. (text-style:"bold")["No, my name Esper. This is Inigo right here."] Esper grabs the middle boy by the shoulders and spins him around. Inigo smiles in a polite, forced way, no doubt the work of a mother who fusses over manners. "Do I know you?" (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Your mother sent us to look for you,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["She's waiting for you on the monastery steps."] (text-style:"bold")["Oh, okay,"] he says, shoulders falling. (text-style:"bold")["I guess she wants me to come back, then."] (text-style:"bold")["Sorry, buddy. She's been real worried about you,"] says Cyrus. [[<a>"My brother and I can walk you there."->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE 2A]] [[<a>"Do you know the way?"->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE 2B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The kids watch you with a mix of confusion and fear as you make your way around the outside of their circle and tap the dark-haired boy, next. (text-style:"bold")["Hi,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["You're pretty."] You fight the urge to roll your eyes. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["And you're Inigo?"] (text-style:"bold")["No, Miss. My name is Lucio,"] he replies, sweetly. He holds up the ball. (text-style:"bold")["Do you want to play with us?"] [[<a>"Not today, sorry. We have to go to the bridge and look for our friend."->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 BRIDGE SI]] [[<a>"Not today, sorry. We have to be at the monastery."->C2 Apothecarist 7 ABANDON QUEST]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The kids watch you with a mix of confusion and fear as you make your way around the outside of their circle and tap the light-haired boy, next. (text-style:"bold")["Who are you?"] he asks bluntly. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Are you Inigo?"] (text-style:"bold")["No? I'm Ronan. Did you bonk your head?"] (text-style:"bold")["We don't know her, dingus!"] another boy calls from across the circle. You step away from Ronan and turn to Siegfried. [[<a>"Let's check the bridge."->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 BRIDGE SI]] [[<a>"We should head back to the monastery. Maybe Cyrus and Adam have found him, already."->C2 Apothecarist 7 ABANDON QUEST]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Thanks, but I got it!"] Inigo chirps. He pulls away from the railing and waves to his friends. (text-style:"bold")["Bye, guys! See you later!"] As Inigo goes traipsing into the crowd, Cyrus says to you, (text-style:"bold")["He's just a kid, Wil. Maybe we should follow him."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Cyrus, //we're// just kids."] (text-style:"bold")["Yeah, but still,"] he protests. Then his dark eyes go wide, full of a tremulous sort of light. (text-style:"bold")["That...was his mother, right?"] [[<a>"Fine. We're following him."->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE REUNION]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Yup. We come here all the time,"] says Inigo. He waves to his friends. (text-style:"bold")["Bye, guys! See you later!"] As Inigo goes traipsing into the crowd, Cyrus says to you, (text-style:"bold")["He's just a kid, Wil. Maybe we should follow him."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Cyrus, //we're// just kids."] (text-style:"bold")["Yeah, but still,"] he protests. Then his dark eyes go wide, full of a tremulous sort of light. (text-style:"bold")["That...was his mother, right?"] [[<a>"Fine. We're following him."->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE REUNION]]]

(font: "Garamond")[The bells will soon ring to make way for the monster, but for now, the river bridge is a flurry of activity--there are few ways even you and Siegfried can even pass through, let alone a cart and soldiers. Up ahead, you spot three young boys leaning on the bridge's stone railing, their hair mussed to varying levels of curl by the wind. The closest boy is taller than the others, but you see the telltale red of a school scarf wrapped about his neck. The second and third boys wear them as well, bright little slashes peeking out of their collars. They're around the same height, though the middle boy's hair is darker. [[<a>Talk to the closest boy.->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ SI ESPER 1]] [[<a>Talk to the middle boy.->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ SI INIGO 1]] [[<a>Talk to the third boy.->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ SI BODHY 1]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Excuse me,"] you say to the furthest boy, giving him a tap on the shoulder. He turns, looking almost scared when he sees you. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Are you Inigo?"] The boy shakes his head. "Uh-uh. I'm Bodhy. That's Inigo right there." Bodhy jabs a thumb over his shoulder, pointing between the other boys' heads. They're too absorbed in their little game of rock-tossing to notice Bodhy speaking to you. [[<a>Talk to the middle boy.->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ SI BODHY 2 INIGO]] [[<a>Talk to the closest boy.->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ SI BODHY 2 ESPER]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Excuse me,"] you say to the closest boy, giving him a tap on the shoulder. He turns, his face pulled in a wind-bitten look of surprise. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Are you Inigo?"] The boy shakes his head. "Nope. I'm Esper. That's Inigo." Esper jabs a thumb over his shoulder, pointing between the other boys' heads. They're too absorbed in their little game of rock-tossing to notice Esper speaking to you. [[<a>Talk to the middle boy.->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ SI ESPER 2 INIGO]] [[<a>Talk to the furthest boy.->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ SI ESPER 2 BODHY]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Excuse me,"] you say to the middle boy, giving him a tap on the shoulder. He turns and wrinkles his face, like he's trying to recognize you. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Are you Inigo?"] His look of confusion transforms into a smile. "Yeah--do I know you?" (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Your mother sent us to look for you,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["She's waiting for you on the monastery steps."] (text-style:"bold")["Oh, okay,"] he says, shoulders falling. (text-style:"bold")["I guess she wants me to come back, then."] (text-style:"bold")["She's very worried about you. I hope you'll be more careful, next time"] says Siegfried. [[<a>"My brother and I can walk you there."->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE 2A]] [[<a>"Do you know the way?"->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE 2B]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Hi--Inigo?"] The middle boy smiles in a polite, forced way, the sign of a mother who fusses over manners. "Yeah! Do I know you?" (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Your mother sent us to look for you,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["She's waiting for you on the monastery steps."] (text-style:"bold")["Oh, okay,"] he says, shoulders falling. (text-style:"bold")["I guess she wants me to come back, then."] (text-style:"bold")["She's very worried about you. I hope you'll be more careful, next time"] says Siegfried. [[<a>"My brother and I can walk you there."->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE 2A]] [[<a>"Do you know the way?"->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE 2B]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Without another word, you and Cyrus take off, running parallel jags through the ever-growing crowd. You call out for Inigo, but he's long gone, now, either with his mother or elsewhere. With so many people around, there's little hope of finding him without eating up all your time. Cyrus pulls you out of the chaos and over to the bridge railing, affording you a moment to catch your breath. You spend it with your hands curled against the frozen stone--over the edge, slabs of ice knock back and forth, suspended on water the color of ink. (text-style:"bold")["Hey!"] a familiar voice calls ahead. Siegfried and Adam are shoving their way towards you, the both of them wind-flushed and smiling. (text-style:"bold")["Did you see Inigo?"] Cyrus asks. (text-style:"bold")[//"Sure did--he's in// big //trouble with Mama."//] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["That's...weirdly relieving."] (text-style:"bold")["Well. Should we get on towards the monastery?"] Cyrus asks. Siegfried points over a mass of bobbing heads, down the street where Cyrus and Adam went searching. (text-style:"bold")["We can take that street there."] Detaching yourself from the railing, [[<a>you join your brothers in threading the crowds once more</a>->C2 Apothecarist 7-2C GARDEN]], this time with your hand mired in Cyrus's coatsleeve.]

(font:"Garamond")[The furthest boy, who you notice up close is //much// shorter than you thought he was, looks almost scared when he sees you. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["You're Inigo?"] you ask him. He shakes his head. (text-style:"bold")["Nope, I'm Bodhy. This is Inigo."] Bodhy grabs the middle boy by the shoulders and spins him around. Inigo smiles in a polite, forced way, no doubt the work of a mother who fusses over manners. "Do I know you?" (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Your mother sent us to look for you,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["She's waiting for you on the monastery steps."] (text-style:"bold")["Oh, okay,"] he says, shoulders falling. (text-style:"bold")["I guess she wants me to come back, then."] (text-style:"bold")["She's very worried about you. I hope you'll be more careful, next time"] says Siegfried. [[<a>"My brother and I can walk you there."->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE 2A]] [[<a>"Do you know the way?"->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE 2B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Thanks, but I got it!"] Inigo chirps. He pulls away from the railing and waves to his friends. (text-style:"bold")["Bye, guys! See you later!"] As Inigo goes traipsing into the crowd, Siegfried whispers to you, (text-style:"bold")["He's so young, Willa. Maybe we should follow him."] The worry in his voice strikes deep--dread gels in the pit of your stomach. [[<a>"That...was his mother, right?"->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE REUNION]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold")["Yup. We come here all the time,"] says Inigo. He pulls away from the railing and waves to his friends. (text-style:"bold")["Bye, guys! See you later!"] As Inigo goes traipsing into the crowd, Siegfried whispers to you, (text-style:"bold")["He's so young, Willa. Maybe we should follow him."] The worry in his voice strikes deep--dread gels in the pit of your stomach. [[<a>"That...was his mother, right?"->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE REUNION]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Hi--Inigo?"] The middle boy smiles in a polite, forced way, the sign of a mother who fusses over manners. "Yeah! Do I know you?" (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Your mother sent us to look for you,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["She's waiting for you on the monastery steps."] (text-style:"bold")["Oh, okay,"] he says, shoulders falling. (text-style:"bold")["I guess she wants me to come back, then."] (text-style:"bold")["She's very worried about you. I hope you'll be more careful, next time"] says Siegfried. [[<a>"My brother and I can walk you there."->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE 2A]] [[<a>"Do you know the way?"->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE 2B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The closest boy turns to you, his face pulled in a wind-bitten look of surprise. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["You're Inigo?"] you ask him. He shakes his head. (text-style:"bold")["No, my name Esper. This is Inigo right here."] Esper grabs the middle boy by the shoulders and spins him around. Inigo smiles in a polite, forced way, no doubt the work of a mother who fusses over manners. "Do I know you?" (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Your mother sent us to look for you,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["She's waiting for you on the monastery steps."] (text-style:"bold")["Oh, okay,"] he says, shoulders falling. (text-style:"bold")["I guess she wants me to come back, then."] (text-style:"bold")["She's very worried about you. I hope you'll be more careful, next time"] says Siegfried. [[<a>"My brother and I can walk you there."->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE 2A]] [[<a>"Do you know the way?"->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE 2B]] ]

(font: "Garamond")[Without another word, you and Siegfried take off, running parallel jags through the ever-growing crowd. You call out for Inigo, but he's long gone, now, either with his mother or elsewhere. With so many people around, there's little hope of finding him without eating up all your time. Siegfried pulls you out of the chaos and over to the bridge railing, affording you a moment to catch your breath. You spend it with your hands curled against the frozen stone--over the edge, slabs of ice knock back and forth, suspended on water the color of ink. (text-style:"bold")["Hey!"] a familiar voice calls ahead. Cyrus and Adam shove their way towards you, the both of them wind-flushed and smiling. (text-style:"bold")["Did you see Inigo?"] Siegfried asks. (text-style:"bold")["You'll be happy, Saint Siegfried, to know that mother and son are reunited--no thanks to us,"] Cyrus proclaims, his hands locked proudly on his hips. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Hey! We found him first,"] you shoot back. (text-style:"bold")[//"What does it matter?"//] Adam asks. (text-style:"bold")[//"Aren't we going to be late? If we get stuck out here, we can't see anything."//] Siegfried points over a mass of bobbing heads, down the street where Cyrus and Adam went searching. (text-style:"bold")["We can take that street there,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["Come with me."] Detaching yourself from the railing, [[<a>you join your brothers in threading the crowds once more</a>->C2 Apothecarist 7-2C GARDEN]], this time with your hand mired in Siegfried's coatsleeve.]

(font:"Garamond")[You come upon a gaggle of children--you count eight of them--playing some kind of rhyming game. They pass a ball made of lye-toughened rope back and forth, striking dramatic poses with it as they recite their rhymes. Two of the boys could fit the woman's description: the short stature, the red scarf, the unruly hair that sticks out around their ears. The biggest difference is the color of their hair--one with coarse, raven-colored locks like yours, the other as pale-headed as Tristan. [[<a>Talk to the dark-haired boy.->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ LUCIO]] [[<a>Talk to the blond boy.->C2 Apothecarist 7 SQ RONAN 1]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You and Siegfried pivot and head for the monastery. It appears much of the commotion on the street has funneled out towards the bridge--you see the clear forms of your brothers loitering at the monastery garden gate, their fingers moving in idle conversation. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Cyrus! Adam!"] you call. (text-style:"bold")["Did you find Inigo?"] Siegfried follows. (text-style:"bold")["Uh-huh. Over on the bridge,"] says Cyrus as you come to a stop beside him. (text-style:"bold")["We wanted to take him back to his mom, but he ran away from us. By the time we got to the monastery steps, they were both gone."] (text-style:"bold")[//"Plucky little shit. We should've never wasted our time."//] (text-style:"bold")["Adam. That wasn't very kind,"] Siegfried chides him. (text-style:"bold")[//"I don't care about being kind, today,"//] says Adam. (text-style:"bold")[//"Either my brother is dead, or he's about to be. That's the only thing I'm concerned about."//] [[<a>"Adam...he's our brother, too." ->C2 Apothecarist 7 ABANDON QUEST 2A]] [[<a>"Then maybe you should think about what Tristan would want!"->C2 Apothecarist 7 ABANDON QUEST 2B]]]

(font: "Garamond")[The bells will soon ring to make way for the monster, but for now, the river bridge is a flurry of activity--there are few ways you and Cyrus can even pass through, let alone a cart and soldiers. Up ahead, you spot three young boys leaning on the bridge's stone railing, their hair mussed to varying levels of curl by the wind. The closest boy is taller than the others, but you see the telltale red of a school scarf wrapped about his neck. The second and third boys wear them as well, bright little slashes peeking out of their collars. They're around the same height, though the middle boy's hair is darker. [[<m>Talk to the closest boy.->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ CY ESPER 1]] [[<m>Talk to the middle boy.->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ CY INIGO 1]] [[<m>Talk to the third boy.->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ CY BODHY 1]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Excuse me,"] you say to the closest boy, giving him a tap on the shoulder. He turns, his face pulled in a wind-bitten look of surprise. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Are you Inigo?"] The boy shakes his head. "Nope. I'm Esper. That's Inigo." Esper jabs a thumb over his shoulder, pointing between the other boys' heads. They're too absorbed in their little game of rock-tossing to notice Esper speaking to you. [[<m>Talk to the middle boy.->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ CY ESPER 2 INIGO]] [[<m>Talk to the furthest boy.->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ CY ESPER 2 BODHY]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Excuse me,"] you say to the middle boy, giving him a tap on the shoulder. He turns and wrinkles his face, like he's trying to recognize you. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Are you Inigo?"] His look of confusion transforms into a smile. "Yeah--do I know you?" (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Your mother sent us to look for you,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["She's waiting for you on the monastery steps."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Oh, okay,"] he says, shoulders falling. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I guess she wants me to come back, then."] (text-style:"bold")["Sorry, buddy. She's been real worried about you,"] says Cyrus. [[<m>"My brother and I can walk you there."->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE 2A]] [[<m>"Do you know the way?"->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE 2B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Excuse me,"] you say to the furthest boy, giving him a tap on the shoulder. He turns, looking almost scared when he sees you. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Are you Inigo?"] The boy shakes his head. "Uh-uh. I'm Bodhy. That's Inigo right there." Bodhy jabs a thumb over his shoulder, pointing between the other boys' heads. They're too absorbed in their little game of rock-tossing to notice Bodhy speaking to you. [[<m>Talk to the middle boy.->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ CY BODHY 2 INIGO]] [[<m>Talk to the closest boy.->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ CY BODHY 2 ESPER]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Hi--Inigo?"] The middle boy smiles in a polite, forced way, no doubt the work of a mother who fusses over manners. "Yeah! Do I know you?" (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Your mother sent us to look for you,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["She's waiting for you on the monastery steps."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Oh, okay,"] he says, shoulders falling. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I guess she wants me to come back, then."] (text-style:"bold")["Sorry, buddy. She's been real worried about you,"] says Cyrus. [[<m>"My brother and I can walk you there."->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE 2A]] [[<m>"Do you know the way?"->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE 2B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The furthest boy, who you notice up close is //much// shorter than you thought he was, looks almost scared when he sees you. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["You're Inigo?"] you ask him. He shakes his head. (text-style:"bold")["Nope, I'm Bodhy. This is Inigo."] Bodhy grabs the middle boy by the shoulders and spins him around. Inigo smiles in a polite, forced way, no doubt the work of a mother who fusses over manners. "Do I know you?" (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Your mother sent us to look for you,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["She's waiting for you on the monastery steps."] (text-style:"bold")["Oh, okay,"] he says, shoulders falling. (text-style:"bold")["I guess she wants me to come back, then."] (text-style:"bold")["Sorry, buddy. She's been real worried about you,"] says Cyrus. [[<m>"My brother and I can walk you there."->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE 2A]] [[<m>"Do you know the way?"->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE 2B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Thanks, but I got it!"] Inigo chirps. He pulls away from the railing and waves to his friends. (text-style:"bold")["Bye, guys! See you later!"] As Inigo goes traipsing into the crowd, Cyrus says to you, (text-style:"bold")["He's just a kid, Wil. Maybe we should follow him."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Cyrus, //we're// just kids."] (text-style:"bold")["Yeah, but still,"] he protests. Then his dark eyes go wide, full of a tremulous sort of light. (text-style:"bold")["That...was his mother, right?"] [[<m>"Fine. We're following him."->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE REUNION]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Yup. We come here all the time,"] says Inigo. He waves to his friends. (text-style:"bold")["Bye, guys! See you later!"] As Inigo goes traipsing into the crowd, Cyrus says to you, (text-style:"bold")["He's just a kid, Wil. Maybe we should follow him."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Cyrus, //we're// just kids."] (text-style:"bold")["Yeah, but still,"] he protests. Then his dark eyes go wide, full of a tremulous sort of light. (text-style:"bold")["That...was his mother, right?"] [[<m>"Fine. We're following him."->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE REUNION]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Hi--Inigo?"] The middle boy smiles in a polite, forced way, the sign of a mother who fusses over manners. "Yeah! Do I know you?" (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Your mother sent us to look for you,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["She's waiting for you on the monastery steps."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Oh, okay,"] he says, shoulders falling. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I guess she wants me to come back, then."] (text-style:"bold")["Sorry, buddy. She's been real worried about you,"] says Cyrus. [[<m>"My brother and I can walk you there."->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE 2A]] [[<m>"Do you know the way?"->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE 2B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The closest boy turns to you, his face pulled in a wind-bitten look of surprise. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["You're Inigo?"] you ask him. He shakes his head. (text-style:"bold")["No, my name Esper. This is Inigo right here."] Esper grabs the middle boy by the shoulders and spins him around. Inigo smiles in a polite, forced way, no doubt the work of a mother who fusses over manners. "Do I know you?" (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Your mother sent us to look for you,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["She's waiting for you on the monastery steps."] (text-style:"bold")["Oh, okay,"] he says, shoulders falling. (text-style:"bold")["I guess she wants me to come back, then."] (text-style:"bold")["Sorry, buddy. She's been real worried about you,"] says Cyrus. [[<m>"My brother and I can walk you there."->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE 2A]] [[<m>"Do you know the way?"->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 CY BRIDGE 2B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You come upon a gaggle of children--you count eight of them--playing some kind of rhyming game. They pass a ball made of lye-toughened rope back and forth, striking dramatic poses with it as they recite their rhymes. Two of the boys could fit the woman's description: the short stature, the red scarf, the unruly hair that sticks out around their ears. The biggest difference is the color of their hair--one with coarse, raven-colored locks like yours, the other as pale-headed as Tristan. [[<m>Talk to the dark-haired boy.->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ LUCIO]] [[<m>Talk to the blond boy.->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ RONAN 1]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You and Siegfried pivot and head for the monastery. It appears much of the commotion on the street has funneled out towards the bridge--you see the clear forms of your brothers loitering at the monastery garden gate, their fingers moving in idle conversation. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Cyrus! Adam!"] you call. (text-style:"bold")["Did you find Inigo?"] Siegfried follows. (text-style:"bold")["Uh-huh. Over on the bridge,"] says Cyrus as you come to a stop beside him. (text-style:"bold")["We wanted to take him back to his mom, but he ran away from us. By the time we got to the monastery steps, they were both gone."] (text-style:"bold")[//"Plucky little shit. We should've never wasted our time."//] (text-style:"bold")["Adam. That wasn't very kind,"] Siegfried chides him. (text-style:"bold")[//"I don't care about being kind, today,"//] says Adam. (text-style:"bold")[//"Either my brother is dead, or he's about to be. That's the only thing I'm concerned about."//] [[<m>"Adam...he's our brother, too."->C2 Mapmaker 7 ABANDON QUEST 2A]] [[<m>"Then maybe you should think about what Tristan would want!"->C2 Mapmaker 7 ABANDON QUEST 2B]]]

(font: "Garamond")[You approach the blond boy with trepidation, uneager to pull him from his game. When you tap him on the shoulder, his mouth makes a tiny 'o', which quickly grows into a full, snaggletoothed smile. (text-style:"bold")["Hi,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["You're pretty."] You fight the urge to roll your eyes. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["And you're Inigo?"] (text-style:"bold")["No, Miss. My name is Lucio,"] he replies, sweetly. He holds up the ball. (text-style:"bold")["Do you want to play with us?"] You trade glances with Siegfried--he gestures to the other would-be Inigo, who's in the middle of rattling off a rhyme. [[<m>"Not today, sorry. We have to keep looking for our friend."->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ LUCIO 2 RONAN]]]

(font: "Garamond")[You approach the blond boy with trepidation, uneager to pull him from his game. When you tap him on the shoulder, he gives you a tight-faced look, sour with judgment. (text-style:"bold")["Who are you?"] he asks bluntly. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Are you Inigo?"] (text-style:"bold")["No? I'm Ronan. Did you bonk your head?"] (text-style:"bold")["We don't know her, dingus!"] another boy calls from across the circle. You trade glances with Siegfried--he gestures to the other would-be Inigo, who's in the middle of rattling off a rhyme. [[You talk to the dark-haired boy.->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ RONAN 2 LUCIO]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The kids watch you with a mix of confusion and fear as you make your way around the outside of their circle and tap the dark-haired boy, next. (text-style:"bold")["Hi,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["You're pretty."] You fight the urge to roll your eyes. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["And you're Inigo?"] (text-style:"bold")["No, Miss. My name is Lucio,"] he replies, sweetly. He holds up the ball. (text-style:"bold")["Do you want to play with us?"] [["Not today, sorry. We have to go to the bridge and look for our friend."->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 BRIDGE SI]] [["Not today, sorry. We have to be at the monastery."->C2 Mapmaker 7 ABANDON QUEST]]]

(font: "Garamond")[The bells will soon ring to make way for the monster, but for now, the river bridge is a flurry of activity--there are few ways even you and Siegfried can even pass through, let alone a cart and soldiers. Up ahead, you spot three young boys leaning on the bridge's stone railing, their hair mussed to varying levels of curl by the wind. The closest boy is taller than the others, but you see the telltale red of a school scarf wrapped about his neck. The second and third boys wear them as well, bright little slashes peeking out of their collars. They're around the same height, though the middle boy's hair is darker. [[<m>Talk to the closest boy.->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ SI ESPER 1]] [[<m>Talk to the middle boy.->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ SI INIGO 1]] [[<m>Talk to the third boy.->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ SI BODHY 1]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The kids watch you with a mix of confusion and fear as you make your way around the outside of their circle and tap the light-haired boy, next. (text-style:"bold")["Who are you?"] he asks bluntly. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Are you Inigo?"] (text-style:"bold")["No? I'm Ronan. Did you bonk your head?"] (text-style:"bold")["We don't know her, dingus!"] another boy calls from across the circle. You step away from Ronan and turn to Siegfried. [[<m>"Let's check the bridge."->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 BRIDGE SI]] [[<m>"We should head back to the monastery. Maybe Cyrus and Adam have found him, already."->C2 Mapmaker 7 ABANDON QUEST]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Excuse me,"] you say to the closest boy, giving him a tap on the shoulder. He turns, his face pulled in a wind-bitten look of surprise. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Are you Inigo?"] The boy shakes his head. "Nope. I'm Esper. That's Inigo." Esper jabs a thumb over his shoulder, pointing between the other boys' heads. They're too absorbed in their little game of rock-tossing to notice Esper speaking to you. [[<m>Talk to the middle boy.->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ SI ESPER 2 INIGO]] [[<m>Talk to the furthest boy.->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ SI ESPER 2 BODHY]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Excuse me,"] you say to the middle boy, giving him a tap on the shoulder. He turns and wrinkles his face, like he's trying to recognize you. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Are you Inigo?"] His look of confusion transforms into a smile. "Yeah--do I know you?" (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Your mother sent us to look for you,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["She's waiting for you on the monastery steps."] (text-style:"bold")["Oh, okay,"] he says, shoulders falling. (text-style:"bold")["I guess she wants me to come back, then."] (text-style:"bold")["She's very worried about you. I hope you'll be more careful, next time,"] says Siegfried. [[<m>"My brother and I can walk you there."->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE 2A]] [[<m>"Do you know the way?"->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE 2B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Excuse me,"] you say to the furthest boy, giving him a tap on the shoulder. He turns, looking almost scared when he sees you. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Are you Inigo?"] The boy shakes his head. "Uh-uh. I'm Bodhy. That's Inigo right there." Bodhy jabs a thumb over his shoulder, pointing between the other boys' heads. They're too absorbed in their little game of rock-tossing to notice Bodhy speaking to you. [[<m>Talk to the middle boy.->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ SI BODHY 2 INIGO]] [[<m>Talk to the closest boy.->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ SI BODHY 2 ESPER]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Hi--Inigo?"] The middle boy smiles in a polite, forced way, the sign of a mother who fusses over manners. "Yeah! Do I know you?" (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Your mother sent us to look for you,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["She's waiting for you on the monastery steps."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Oh, okay,"] he says, shoulders falling. (text-style:"bold")["I guess she wants me to come back, then."] (text-style:"bold")["She's very worried about you. I hope you'll be more careful, next time,"] says Siegfried. [[<m>"My brother and I can walk you there."->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE 2A]] [[<m>"Do you know the way?"->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE 2B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The furthest boy, who you notice up close is //much// shorter than you thought he was, looks almost scared when he sees you. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["You're Inigo?"] you ask him. He shakes his head. (text-style:"bold")["Nope, I'm Bodhy. This is Inigo."] Bodhy grabs the middle boy by the shoulders and spins him around. Inigo smiles in a polite, forced way, no doubt the work of a mother who fusses over manners. "Do I know you?" (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Your mother sent us to look for you,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["She's waiting for you on the monastery steps."] (text-style:"bold")["Oh, okay,"] he says, shoulders falling. (text-style:"bold")["I guess she wants me to come back, then."] (text-style:"bold")["She's very worried about you. I hope you'll be more careful, next time"] says Siegfried. [[<m>"My brother and I can walk you there."->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE 2A]] [[<m>"Do you know the way?"->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE 2B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Thanks, but I got it!"] Inigo chirps. He pulls away from the railing and waves to his friends. (text-style:"bold")["Bye, guys! See you later!"] As Inigo goes traipsing into the crowd, Siegfried whispers to you, (text-style:"bold")["He's so young, Willa. Maybe we should follow him."] The worry in his voice strikes deep--dread gels in the pit of your stomach. [[<m>"That...was his mother, right?"->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE REUNION]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold")["Yup. We come here all the time,"] says Inigo. He pulls away from the railing and waves to his friends. (text-style:"bold")["Bye, guys! See you later!"] As Inigo goes traipsing into the crowd, Siegfried whispers to you, (text-style:"bold")["He's so young, Willa. Maybe we should follow him."] The worry in his voice strikes deep--dread gels in the pit of your stomach. [[<m>"That...was his mother, right?"->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE REUNION]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Hi--Inigo?"] The middle boy smiles in a polite, forced way, the sign of a mother who fusses over manners. "Yeah! Do I know you?" (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Your mother sent us to look for you,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["She's waiting for you on the monastery steps."] (text-style:"bold")["Oh, okay,"] he says, shoulders falling. (text-style:"bold")["I guess she wants me to come back, then."] (text-style:"bold")["She's very worried about you. I hope you'll be more careful, next time,"] says Siegfried. [[<m>"My brother and I can walk you there."->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE 2A]] [[<m>"Do you know the way?"->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE 2B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The closest boy turns to you, his face pulled in a wind-bitten look of surprise. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["You're Inigo?"] you ask him. He shakes his head. (text-style:"bold")["No, my name Esper. This is Inigo right here."] Esper grabs the middle boy by the shoulders and spins him around. Inigo smiles in a polite, forced way, no doubt the work of a mother who fusses over manners. "Do I know you?" (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Your mother sent us to look for you,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["She's waiting for you on the monastery steps."] (text-style:"bold")["Oh, okay,"] he says, shoulders falling. (text-style:"bold")["I guess she wants me to come back, then."] (text-style:"bold")["She's very worried about you. I hope you'll be more careful, next time"] says Siegfried. [[<m>"My brother and I can walk you there."->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE 2A]] [[<m>"Do you know the way?"->C2 Mapmaker 7 SQ-2 SI BRIDGE 2B]] ]

(font: "Garamond")[Without another word, you and Siegfried take off, running parallel jags through the ever-growing crowd. You call out for Inigo, but he's long gone, now, either with his mother or elsewhere. With so many people around, there's little hope of finding him without eating up all your time. Siegfried pulls you out of the chaos and over to the bridge railing, affording you a moment to catch your breath. You spend it with your hands curled against the frozen stone--over the edge, slabs of ice knock back and forth, suspended on water the color of ink. (text-style:"bold")["Hey!"] a familiar voice calls ahead. Cyrus and Adam shove their way towards you, the both of them wind-flushed and smiling. (text-style:"bold")["Did you see Inigo?"] Siegfried asks. (text-style:"bold")["You'll be happy, Saint Siegfried, to know that mother and son are reunited--no thanks to us,"] Cyrus proclaims, his hands locked proudly on his hips. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Hey! We found him first,"] you shoot back. (text-style:"bold")[//"What does it matter?"//] Adam asks. (text-style:"bold")[//"Aren't we going to be late? If we get stuck out here, we can't see anything."//] Siegfried points over a mass of bobbing heads, down the street where Cyrus and Adam went searching. (text-style:"bold")["We can take that street there,"] he says. (text-style:"bold")["Come with me."] Detaching yourself from the railing, [[<m>you join your brothers in threading the crowds once more</m>->C2 Apothecarist 7-2C GARDEN]], this time with your hand mired in Siegfried's coatsleeve.]

(font: "Garamond")[Without another word, you and Cyrus take off, running parallel jags through the ever-growing crowd. You call out for Inigo, but he's long gone, now, either with his mother or elsewhere. With so many people around, there's little hope of finding him without eating up all your time. Cyrus pulls you out of the chaos and over to the bridge railing, affording you a moment to catch your breath. You spend it with your hands curled against the frozen stone--over the edge, slabs of ice knock back and forth, suspended on water the color of ink. (text-style:"bold")["Hey!"] a familiar voice calls ahead. Siegfried and Adam are shoving their way towards you, the both of them wind-flushed and smiling. (text-style:"bold")["Did you see Inigo?"] Cyrus asks. (text-style:"bold")[//"Sure did--he's in// big //trouble with Mama."//] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["That's...weirdly relieving."] (text-style:"bold")["Well. Should we get on towards the monastery?"] Cyrus asks. Siegfried points over a mass of bobbing heads, down the street where Cyrus and Adam went searching. (text-style:"bold")["We can take that street there."] Detaching yourself from the railing, [[<m>you join your brothers in threading the crowds once more</m>->C2 Apothecarist 7-2C GARDEN]], this time with your hand mired in Cyrus's coatsleeve.]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Let's everyone settle down, please,"] Siegfried says, his hands palms-out between you and Adam. (text-style:"bold")["The belfry stairs are just this way to the right."] Siegfried points to an iron fence, half-choked by dead coils of ivy. [[<a>Push open the gate.-> C2 Apothecarist 7-4A]] [[<a>Try the key.->C2 Apothecarist 7-4B]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Wil, please. Don't bring Tristan into this,"] says Cyrus. Cyrus's voice, the kindness teeming there in the dark of his eyes, eases your temper. You unclench your fists and shove your hands in your pockets, feeling the cool of the silver key in your right palm. (text-style:"bold")["Let's everyone settle down, please,"] Siegfried says, his hands palms-out between you and Adam. (text-style:"bold")["The belfry stairs are just this way to the right."] Siegfried points to an iron fence, half-choked by dead coils of ivy. [[<a>Push open the gate.-> C2 Apothecarist 7-4A]] [[<a>Try the key.->C2 Apothecarist 7-4B]] ]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Let's everyone settle down, please,"] Siegfried says, his hands palms-out between you and Adam. (text-style:"bold")["The belfry stairs are just this way to the right."] Siegfried points to an iron fence, half-choked by dead coils of ivy. [[<m>Push open the gate.-> C2 Mapmaker 7-4A]] [[<m>Try the key.->C2 Mapmaker 7-4B]]]

(font: "Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Wil, please. Don't bring Tristan into this,"] says Cyrus. Cyrus's voice, the kindness teeming there in the dark of his eyes, eases your temper. You unclench your fists and shove your hands in your pockets, feeling the cool of the silver key in your right palm. (text-style:"bold")["Let's everyone settle down, please,"] Siegfried says, his hands palms-out between you and Adam. (text-style:"bold")["The belfry stairs are just this way to the right."] Siegfried points to an iron fence, half-choked by dead coils of ivy. [[<m>Push open the gate.-> C2 Mapmaker 7-4A]] [[<m>Try the key.->C2 Mapmaker 7-4B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The entry to the monastery garden faces out to a broad sidestreet--holly bushes along the fence, burgeoning with silky red berries, stand as the last vestige of its summertime green. Siegfried points to an iron fence, half-choked by dead coils of ivy. (text-style:"bold")["That's our way in."] [[<a>Push open the gate.-> C2 Apothecarist 7-4A]] [[<a>Try the key.->C2 Apothecarist 7-4B]]]

(font: "Garamond")[The gate opens with a howl in its hinges--flakes of rust fall onto to the snow. (text-style:"bold")["Do they ever use this thing?"] Cyrus remarks. (text-style:"bold")["The main gate's on the other side of the street,"] says Siegfried. (text-style:"bold")["But that crowd near the stairs had other plans for us, I suppose."] (text-style:"bold")["Was that...sass? From //Saint Siegfried// himself?"] Cyrus exclaims. (text-style:"bold")[//"Can we just go already?"//] (text-style:"bold")["This way,"] says Siegfried, waving you on. [[<a>You follow him.-> C2 Apothecarist 7-5]]]

(font: "Garamond") [ You fit the (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#acacac")[key] in the lock, but it doesn't turn. (text-style:"bold")["No, Willa,"] says Siegfried. (text-style:"bold")["I told you--that's the key to the belfry. Just push on it."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Oh,"] you mutter, a blush fettering your cheeks. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["That...makes sense."] [[<a>You stow the key and push open the gate.-> C2 Apothecarist 7-4A]]]

(font: "Garamond") [ You fit the (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#acacac")[key] in the lock, but it doesn't turn. (text-style:"bold")["No, Willa,"] says Siegfried. (text-style:"bold")["I told you--that's the key to the belfry. Just push on it."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Oh,"] you mutter, a blush fettering your cheeks. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["That...makes sense."] [[<m>You stow the key and push open the gate.-> C2 Mapmaker 7-4A]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The entry to the monastery garden faces out to a broad sidestreet--holly bushes along the fence, burgeoning with silky red berries, stand as the last vestige of its summertime green. Siegfried points to an iron fence, half-choked by dead coils of ivy. (text-style:"bold")["That's our way in."] [[<m>Push open the gate.-> C2 Mapmaker 7-4A]] [[<m>Try the key.->C2 Mapmaker 7-4B]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Three staircases lay before you like dark open mouths. You head for the middle one--because surely, this is the way to the middle tower--but Siegfried grabs your arm and pulls you to the right. Quickly, you realize the tower stairs cross over each other before they split; you hear descending footsteps through the hole-laden brick, the susurration of boots and robes and whispers. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Where are they all going?"] you ask. (text-style:"bold")["To prayer,"] Siegfried answers. (text-style:"bold")["On the Solstice, we pray that Silvanaia will grant the Hunters safe passage through her domain."] You recall the stone relief a woman, dressed in diaphanous silk and tilting her oak-branch antlers towards the sun: Silvanaia, eighth of the Twelve Sisters, goddess of death and the forest. Why these two disparate things, you do not know, unless it is Silvanaia herself keeping the Hunters from slaying the Unfaced, turning children into monsters. [[<a>In that case, you imagine prayer wouldn't do much good.-> C2 Apothecarist 7-6]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The staircase ends at a (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#A35E43")[tall bronze door] fettered in scuff marks and verdigris. It looks terribly heavy--and terribly locked. You worry the key in your pocket. (text-style:"bold")["No need to be nervous, Willa,"] says Siegfried. (text-style:"bold")["Brother Callan should be here to ring the bell today, but otherwise, we'll have it all to ourselves."] (text-style:"bold")[//"Seriously, just open the door."//] [[<a>Use the silver key.->C2 Apothecarist 7-7]] ]

(font: "Garamond")[Three staircases lay before you like dark open mouths. You head for the middle one--because surely, this is the way to the middle tower--but Siegfried grabs your arm and pulls you to the right. Quickly, you realize the tower stairs cross over each other before they split; you hear descending footsteps through the hole-laden brick, the susurration of boots and robes and whispers. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Where are they all going?"] you ask. (text-style:"bold")["To prayer,"] Siegfried answers. (text-style:"bold")["On the Solstice, we pray that Silvanaia will grant the Hunters safe passage through her domain."] You recall the stone relief a woman, dressed in diaphanous silk and tilting her oak-branch antlers towards the sun: Silvanaia, eighth of the Twelve Sisters, goddess of death and the forest. Why these two disparate things, you do not know, unless it is Silvanaia herself keeping the Hunters from slaying the Unfaced, turning children into monsters. [[<m>In that case, you imagine prayer wouldn't do much good.-> C2 Mapmaker 7-6]]]

(font:"Garamond")[A waterfall of bells greets you on the other side of the (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#A35E43")[door]--if one is rung, all the others will follow, creating the cascading melody that sounds each hour. On a nearby wall, a small clock shows one minute to eight. (text-style:"bold")["Brother Callan?"] Siegfried calls, but no one answers. His voice echoes into the next minute--the creak of a lever follows, then the click of gears. (text-style: "fade-in-out")[CHIME.] You stick your fingers in your ears, but the bells' metal peal reverberates in the deepest marrow of your bones, pushing the axis of your balance from your spine into the left of your ribs. You'd fall over if not for Cyrus, attuned to your unsteadiness, grabbing onto your elbow. (text-style: "fade-in-out")[CHIME.] (text-style:"bold")["This way!"] Siegfried shouts over the bells. He points to a sliver of golden daylight peering out from around the wall. (text-style: "fade-in-out")[CHIME.] [[<a>With uneasy steps, you let Cyrus guide you.->C2 Apothecarist 7-8]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[A waterfall of bells greets you on the other side of the (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#A35E43")[door]--if one is rung, all the others will follow, creating the cascading melody that sounds each hour. On a nearby wall, a small clock shows one minute to eight. (text-style:"bold")["Brother Callan?"] Siegfried calls, but no one answers. His voice echoes into the next minute--the creak of a lever follows, then the click of gears. (text-style: "fade-in-out")[CHIME.] You stick your fingers in your ears, but the bells' metal peal reverberates in the deepest marrow of your bones, pushing the axis of your balance from your spine into the left of your ribs. You'd fall over if not for Cyrus, attuned to your unsteadiness, grabbing onto your elbow. (text-style: "fade-in-out")[CHIME.] (text-style:"bold")["This way!"] Siegfried shouts over the bells. He points to a sliver of golden daylight peering out from around the wall. (text-style: "fade-in-out")[CHIME.] [[<m>With uneasy steps, you let Cyrus guide you.->C2 Mapmaker 7-8]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The bells cease their ringing, but their sound has left a (text-style: "fade-in-out")[ghost] in you, a thrum lodged in the front of your skull. Cyrus leads you to the ledge where Adam and Siegfried sit. The brick is cold, but colder is the fresh air that greets you--the ledge looks out on the whole central city. The rising sun makes a prism of all the snow and fog; there is an unreality to it, as if the world were caught in the iridescent throes of a dream. [[<a>Then the shouting comes, and the dream is lost.->C2 Apothecarist 7-9]] ]

(font: "Garamond") [You peer down at the crowd below you, and vertigo swoops your stomach. Soldiers have burst forth from the monastery's hall of worship, their black capes flowing behind them like streams of wet tar. They shove people aside with their shields, but there is no fear among the cityfolk--only excitement, a frenetic pulse that scales the walls like a wiry-legged spider, causing your own heartbeat to quicken. (text-style:"bold")["Willa, look."] You follow the length of Cyrus's arm to the river bridge, where the crowd has split to two dark ribbons, baring a path of well-trampled white in the middle. A wagon thunders over the curve of the bridge. More soldiers perch on its edges, their lances and swords pointed towards something in the middle. [[<a>There...->C2 Apothecarist 7-10]]]

(font: "Garamond") [You peer down at the crowd below you, and vertigo swoops your stomach. Soldiers have burst forth from the monastery's hall of worship, their black capes flowing behind them like streams of wet tar. They shove people aside with their shields, but there is no fear among the cityfolk--only excitement, a frenetic pulse that scales the walls like a wiry-legged spider, causing your own heartbeat to quicken. (text-style:"bold")["Willa, look."] You follow the length of Cyrus's arm to the river bridge, where the crowd has split to two dark ribbons, baring a path of well-trampeled white in the middle. A wagon thunders over the curve of the bridge. More soldiers perch on its edges, their lances and swords pointed towards something in the middle. There... [[<a>...there...->C2 Apothecarist 7-11]]]

(font: "Garamond") [You peer down at the crowd below you, and vertigo swoops your stomach. Soldiers have burst forth from the monastery's hall of worship, their black capes flowing behind them like streams of wet tar. They shove people aside with their shields, but there is no fear among the cityfolk--only excitement, a frenetic pulse that scales the walls like a wiry-legged spider, causing your own heartbeat to quicken. (text-style:"bold")["Willa, look."] You follow the length of Cyrus's arm to the river bridge, where the crowd has split to two dark ribbons, baring a path of well-trampeled white in the middle. A wagon thunders over the curve of the bridge. More soldiers perch on its edges, their lances and swords pointed towards something in the middle. There... ...there... ...there lies [[<a>the monster.->C2 Apothecarist 7-12]]]

(font:"Garamond") + (text-style:"expand")[[[<a>"T R I S T A N..."->C2 Apothecarist 7-13]]]

(font:"Garamond")[No. This is not Tristan, and you are not calling his name--this is the monster who cries for him, his voice trapped in the low of his throat, your brother's name breaking from his lips like the slow crack of ice on the river. The wagon stops just before the monastery stairs. The boy that became a monster is atrophied and frostbitten, his clothes stripped to rags by the protrusions of bone and feathers that grow from the smooth, sunken planes of his body. Two night-dark horns sprout out of his brow, twisting in pained coils towards the sun. You cannot see his eyes, but whatever color they are, you know they are weeping. He moves, and smoke, blue and full of stars, flickers about his body. (text-style:"Bold") + (text-colour:"#0e469a")["Tristan! Tristan!"] he wails to the sky--[[<a>but you are closer.->C2 Apothecarist 7-14]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The soldiers drag the monster from the wagon by ropes tied around his wrists. While two keep him steady, a third clamps a muzzle on his face and cranks it open, baring the full cavity of his mouth. Smoke pours from his throat and tangles about them like ivy--it squeezes, tight, but their armor does not break in its grasp. Someone emerges from the monastery. A figure in all black. Gloved. Wearing a top hat and long, beaked mask. They carry a corked glass vial, held up so the encroaching crowd can see it. Your stomach twists. You know what is happening, now. It is a promise made to seven-hundred years of sacrifices, seven-hundred children who in the midst of their unmaking, come stumbling home. It is a swift and peaceful death, and this living shadow beneath you is the executioner. The soldiers shove the monster, the boy, to his knees. His name is Eros, you remember. He was alone at the gate, and while his death has hundreds of spectators, there is no one here to mourn him. No one but you--though you're not sure it's right to grieve a stranger, when you have another brother to be grieving, too. The executioner uncorks her vial and holds it over Eros's mouth. You hold your breath, the inner flesh of your left cheek caught between your teeth. (text-style: "bold")["By the will of the Eighth Sister, I bring you rest!"] the executioner calls. Your blood goes cold in your veins. Though muffled, you know that voice. //Her// voice. You allow yourself a heartbeat of denial, but then you look at your brothers, see the shock that stretches their faces apart, and know the worst is true. The executioner is [[<a>//your mother.//->C2 Apothecarist 7-15]]]

(font: "Garamond")[As Eros slumps with quiet finality, a question blooms between you and your brothers, its petals leaving sores in your mouth. How do you speak of such a wretched thing? Your own mother--a healer, a doctor, a woman who has lost--tasked with fulfilling the bleakest of the Kingdom's promises. (text-style: "bold")["What...do we do?"] Cyrus mumbles. [[<a>Tell your mother what you've seen. Demand to know why.->C2 Apothecarist Ending 1]] [[<a>Keep the secret. If she were proud of such inhumanity, she'd tell you.->C2 Apothecarist Ending 2]] ]

(font: "Garamond")[Sunset brings the coldest night in Aeverdam in fifty years--your family eats dinner huddled in coats and scarves and grief-addled quiet, the furnace barely cleaving at the chill. When you follow your mother to the shop after dinner, you can see your breath in the darkened stairwell. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I saw you, Mother,"] you say to her. Words that could mean anything, but you find comfort in their ambiguity. Bravery, even. She stops and pivots. The thin light from upstairs touches only the high planes of her face--her features become sharp and birdlike, but not unsoft. (text-style:"bold")["I had hoped you would,"] she says. //She knows.// She climbs the stairs and reaches for your hands, but you keep them wound at your sides. (text-style:"bold")["Willa, please listen to me--"] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I don't understand. Who made you do that? Was it the Oracle? The King?"] (text-style:"bold")["It was myself."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["What?"] (text-style:"bold")["The promise is kind and swift,"] she says. (text-style:"bold")["When Verran went in the Hunt, when I saw what happened to the girl that went with him--I had to find another way."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["And //that// was the other way?"] Your mother nods. (text-style:"bold")["The serum brings sleep before death. We brought him into the monastery, placed him before Silvanaia's altar. He took his last breaths in dignity. It is the same fate I'd want for any of your brothers."] Her confession swirls about you like a thick fog--you wade in it, feeling its heaviness, the way it sinks and settles in the pit of your heart. (text-style:"bold")["These are the choices we must make as healers, Willa,"] she says, and finally, you let her take your hands. (text-style:"bold")["I believe you will be a good one. One of the best. But you must understand that there will always be sacrifices, painful ones, when it is our duty to put the lives of others before our own."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["And there's no way to save them. The monsters."] She squeezes your hands. (text-style:"bold")["Not yet, no. But maybe we could find one together."] You embrace her, using your temporary advantage in height to wind your arms about her shoulders. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Maybe we could,"] you tell her, and though it is not forgiveness, not acceptance, it is [[<a>a place to start.->Chapter 3: The Voice of Seven Centuries A]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[[[<a>Chapter Three: The Voice of Seven Centuries->C3 Apothecarist S]]]

(font:"Garamond")[[[<m>Chapter Three: The Voice of Seven Centuries->C3 Mapmaker S]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You grit your teeth to keep from gasping. Inside the chest is your mother's blackbird mask. She reveres it, running her fingers over the stitchwork, smudging the fog from the goggles with the edge of her sleeve. (text-style:"bold")["I wore this when I was a physician,"] she explains. (text-style:"bold")["Those were dark, plague-scourged years--but they were also the years that brought us your brothers."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Do you ever wear it now?"] (text-style:"bold")["I do."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["When?"] you ask. You have not let loose the secret--you refuse. But a well-placed question may leach it from her. (text-style:"bold")["One day, I will tell you,"] she says, and you cannot hide your disappointment. (text-style:"bold")["Then, another day, you may wear it, too."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I doubt it."] She does not miss the flat edge of your voice, the way every syllable is meant to bruise her. (text-style:"bold")["This is the bloom you plucked, Willa,"] she tells you. (text-style:"bold")["And you will take it as it is--roots, stem, and petals. We healers do not waste."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Do we ever kill?"] The question startles her--her lips purse, her brow smooths. (text-style:"bold")["No. Never,"] she says. (text-style:"bold")["But there are times, painful times, we must make death easier."] In that moment, you understand. The vial, the mask, the word //rest// still careening around the tiny bones of your ears. She did not kill the monster. Not really. The secret rolls under your tongue, still prodding, burning. But you trust her, and tonight, [[<a>that is enough.->Chapter 3: The Voice of Seven Centuries A SECRET]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The bells cease their ringing, but their sound has left a (text-style: "fade-in-out")[ghost] in you, a thrum lodged in the front of your skull. Cyrus leads you to the ledge where Adam and Siegfried sit. The brick is cold, but colder is the fresh air that greets you--the ledge looks out on the whole central city. The rising sun makes a prism of all the snow and fog; there is an unreality to it, as if the world were caught in the iridescent throes of a dream. [[<m>Then the shouting comes, and the dream is lost.->C2 Mapmaker 7-9]] ]

(font: "Garamond") [You peer down at the crowd below you, and vertigo swoops your stomach. Soldiers have burst forth from the monastery's hall of worship, their black capes flowing behind them like streams of wet tar. They shove people aside with their shields, but there is no fear among the cityfolk--only excitement, a frenetic pulse that scales the walls like a wiry-legged spider, causing your own heartbeat to quicken. (text-style:"bold")["Willa, look."] You follow the length of Cyrus's arm to the river bridge, where the crowd has split to two dark ribbons, baring a path of well-trampeled white in the middle. A wagon thunders over the curve of the bridge. More soldiers perch on its edges, their lances and swords pointed towards something in the middle. There... [[<m>...there...->C2 Mapmaker 7-11]]]

(font: "Garamond") [You peer down at the crowd below you, and vertigo swoops your stomach. Soldiers have burst forth from the monastery's hall of worship, their black capes flowing behind them like streams of wet tar. They shove people aside with their shields, but there is no fear among the cityfolk--only excitement, a frenetic pulse that scales the walls like a wiry-legged spider, causing your own heartbeat to quicken. (text-style:"bold")["Willa, look."] You follow the length of Cyrus's arm to the river bridge, where the crowd has split to two dark ribbons, baring a path of well-trampeled white in the middle. A wagon thunders over the curve of the bridge. More soldiers perch on its edges, their lances and swords pointed towards something in the middle. There... ...there... ...there lies [[<m>the monster.->C2 Mapmaker 7-12]]]

(font:"Garamond") + (text-style:"expand")[<m>[["T R I S T A N..."->C2 Mapmaker 7-13]]]

(font: "Garamond")[As Eros slumps with quiet finality, a question blooms between you and your brothers, its petals leaving sores in your mouth. How do you speak of such a wretched thing? Your own mother--a healer, a doctor, a woman who has lost--tasked with fulfilling the bleakest of the Kingdom's promises. (text-style: "bold")["What...do we do?"] Cyrus mumbles. [[<m>Tell your mother what you've seen. Demand to know why.->C2 Mapmaker Ending 1]] [[<m>Keep the secret. If she were proud of such inhumanity, she'd tell you.->C2 Mapmaker Ending 2]] ]

(font: "Garamond")[Sunset brings the coldest night in Aeverdam in fifty years--your family eats dinner huddled in coats and scarves and grief-addled quiet, the furnace barely cleaving at the chill. When you stalk your mother to her shop after dinner, you can see your breath in the darkened stairwell. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I saw you, Mother,"] you say to her. Words that could mean anything, but you find comfort in their ambiguity. Bravery, even. She stops and pivots. The thin light from upstairs touches only the high planes of her face--her features become sharp and birdlike, but not unsoft. (text-style:"bold")["I had hoped you would,"] she says. //She knows.// She climbs the stairs and reaches for your hands, but you keep them wound at your sides. (text-style:"bold")["Willa, please listen to me--"] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Was it the Oracle who forced you? The King?"] (text-style:"bold")["No one forced me."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Then how could you do it?"] you exclaim, backing up the stairs. (text-style:"bold")["Maybe if you'd chosen my path, you'd understand,"] she snaps. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I don't want to understand,"] you say. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Now I know why Father didn't come with us. He wasn't afraid to see Tristan--he was ashamed to see //you.//"] You turn your back to her and run the rest of the way up the stairs, every slam of your boots into the wood a declaration of your anger. As you make your way to your father's study, the hallway runs to wet blurs of shadow and flame--your mother calls to you, begging your audience, but you hear only the memory of the monastery bells, pounding in your ears like a second lurid heartbeat. Someday, you may forgive her. [[<m>But you will not hold your breath waiting for that day to come.->Chapter 3: The Voice of Seven Centuries M]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Sunset brings the coldest night in Aeverdam in fifty years--your family eats dinner huddled in coats and scarves and grief-addled quiet, the furnace barely cleaving at the chill. When you follow your father to his study after dinner, you can see your breath in the darkened stairwell. (text-style:"bold")["There's no need to work now, Willa,"] he tells you as he settles at his desk, stirring his inks and lining up his brushes by their width. (text-style:"bold")["You should go on to bed."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I'm not tired,"] you say, moving deeper into the room, brushing your fingers along the dust-filmed edge of a bookshelf. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Will you show me how to ink the rivers?"] (text-style:"bold")["Tomorrow, my dear."] You pluck a book off the shelf: //A Field Guide to the Flora of Western Aeverdam - Unabridged Seventh Edition.// You flip to the page that bears the Weeping Moon--this one has two of them, furled and unfurled--and start towards your father's desk. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Then I'll read."] Your father does not stray from his work, but his voice grows heavy. (text-style:"bold")["If you want to talk, you know I'll always listen."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Well, it's just...I don't blame you. For not coming with us today, or yesterday. That's all."] He pauses a moment with your words, his head still tipped towards his map, unreadable. You hold your breath. (text-style:"bold")["Alright,"] he says, finally. (text-style:"bold")["Come sit. Tell me what you're learning while I work."] When you take a seat across from him, you decide that this is the way things will be forever. The two of you, buried in the the dusty, wood-smelling calm of the study, copying maps and studying flowers while the Kingdom cavorts and the snow falls and your mother carries out her ghastly execution. You fear, one day, your secret may fester and grow something awful in you--but for now, [[<m>it is simply enough to swallow it.->Chapter 3: The Voice of Seven Centuries M SECRET]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You are seventeen years old[[<a>...->C3 Apothecarist 1 S]]]

(font:"Garamond")[...and seven-parts [[<a>empty.->C3 Apothecarist 2 S]]]

(font:"Garamond")[A (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#a9bfbf")[chain] around your wrist now bears a charm for each brother: Verran's silver locket, carved jade leaves for Bael and Olean, the river shell from Tristan. Siegfried's old belfry key, and an amber stone for Adam. For Cyrus, a severed raven's beak, lacquered in glass-clear resin. When you must walk alone at night, you crook it between your fingers like a claw. He always did want to protect you. But not like this. [[<a>//Not like this,//->C3 Apothecarist 3 S]] you think as you pile dried garlic into your mortar and watch autumn make its leave through the backroom windows, the first winter snowclouds drifting in gray, gauzy pulls over the sky. ]

(font:"Garamond")[You are seventeen years old[[<m>...->C3 Mapmaker 1 S]]]

(font:"Garamond")[...and seven-parts [[<m>empty.->C3 Mapmaker 2 S]]]

(font:"Garamond")[A (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#a9bfbf")[chain] around your wrist now bears a charm for each brother: Verran's silver locket, carved jade leaves for Bael and Olean, the river shell from Tristan. Siegfried's old belfry key, and an amber stone for Adam. For Cyrus, a severed raven's beak, lacquered in glass-clear resin. When you must walk alone at night, you crook it between your fingers like a claw. He always did want to protect you. But not like this. [[<m>//Not like this,//->C3 Mapmaker 3 S]] you think as you trace your brush along the penciled curve of the Aever River, following every delicate shiver of your father's lines to where the water disappears beyond the Curse. ]

(font:"Garamond")[Nearly a year has passed since Cyrus's death. Your blood-brother, your best friend, your partner in mischief is now a ghost that haunts the empty bed across from yours, the covers still pillowing his history books. You were supposed to return them to the royal archives months ago, but no one has come knocking for them, and sometimes, when you're falling asleep and your candle is an inch from its dark, you hope you'll look across the room to find him reading again, his spectacles perched on his nose. Still, in these terrible, wounding years, years that have hardened your voice and roughened your hands and carved a lean, agile spade of your body, you have found the softness to forgive your mother. When Siegfried went in the Hunt, she taught you the enchantment for the anaesthetic serum, letting you hover at her shoulder as she spun an orange-peel of light into the bottle. When it was Adam's companion who came back as the monster, you cast the spell yourself. And in the long expanses between Solstices, when Cyrus began to fear for his fate and your mother prayed Kynthia would protect him, you studied what you knew of the monsters and searched for a cure among the stars of its smoke. Forgiveness is a noble thing--you are proud of your capacity for it. [[<a>But it is no salve or syrup for your hurt.->C3 Apothecarist 4]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Nearly a year has passed since Cyrus's death. Your blood-brother, your best friend, your partner in mischief is now a ghost that haunts the empty bed across from yours, the covers still pillowing his history books. You were supposed to return them to the royal archives months ago, but no one has come knocking for them, and sometimes, when you're falling asleep and your candle is an inch from its dark, you hope you'll look across the room to find him reading again, his spectacles perched on his nose. Still, in these terrible, wounding years, years that have hardened your voice and roughened your hands and carved a lean, agile spade of your body, you have found the softness to forgive your mother. When Siegfried went in the Hunt, she offered forth the secret of her role in it, and you confessed, if shamefully, that you knew all along. She did not fault you. On the night of the Solstice, you sat together at her bench and she taught you the enchantment for the anaesthetic serum, guiding you through her every thought as she spun an orange-peel of light into the bottle. When it was Adam's companion who came back as the monster, you cast the spell yourself. And in the long expanses between Solstices, when Cyrus began to fear for his fate and your mother prayed Kynthia would protect him, you studied what you knew of the monsters and searched for a cure among the stars of its smoke. Forgiveness is a noble thing--you are proud of your capacity for it. [[<a>But it is no salve or syrup for your hurt.->C3 Apothecarist 4]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Nearly a year has passed since Cyrus's death. Your blood-brother, your best friend, your partner in mischief is now a ghost that haunts the empty bed across from yours, the covers still pillowing his history books. You were supposed to return them to the royal archives months ago, but no one has come knocking for them, and sometimes, when you're falling asleep and your candle is an inch from its dark, you hope you'll look across the room to find him reading again. These have been four terrible, wounding years, years that have hardened your voice and roughened your hands and carved a lean, agile spade of your body, but you have found solace in your apprenticeship, joy in the travels you make with your father during the warmer months. But mapmaking, you've learned, is fickle work. The land shifts without prelude; the river cuts new veins in the soil, the hills take more shadow in their dips. Each year, the world spurns the yoke of your black ink lines, and you and your father must march out again, retracing the earth and recounting the stars. When you are away, it is easier to forget your grief. But when the days grow cold and the nights stretch long, you return to copy maps for sale, and the quiet of the house reminds you bitterly of the boys that once filled it. The only thing worse than the grief is the resentment, corroding the floor of your belly, rising every time your mother asks a favor of you. You have not forgiven her, and with Cyrus now lost to the Hunt, you have decided [[<m>you never will.->C3 Mapmaker 4]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Nearly a year has passed since Cyrus's death. Your blood-brother, your best friend, your partner in mischief is now a ghost that haunts the empty bed across from yours, the covers still pillowing his history books. You were supposed to return them to the royal archives months ago, but no one has come knocking for them, and sometimes, when you're falling asleep and your candle is an inch from its dark, you hope you'll look across the room to find him reading again. These have been four terrible, wounding years, years that have hardened your voice and roughened your hands and carved a lean, agile spade of your body, but you have found solace in your apprenticeship, joy in the travels you make with your father during the warmer months. But mapmaking, you've learned, is fickle work. The land shifts without prelude; the river cuts new veins in the soil, the hills take more shadow in their dips. Each year, the world spurns the yoke of your black ink lines, and you and your father must march out again, retracing the earth and recounting the stars. When you are away, it is easier to forget your grief. But when the days grow cold and the nights stretch long, you return to copy maps for sale, and the quiet of the house reminds you bitterly of the boys that once filled it. The only thing worse than the grief is the resentment, corroding the floor of your belly, rising every time your mother asks a favor of you. You have let your secret go unspoken too long, and you would not dream of speaking it now. As long as you live, you are content to let your mother create her fictions, her 'Sisters'-given' reasons for why [[<m>you rarely look her way with a smile.->C3 Mapmaker 4]] ]

(font:"Ink Free")[Dear Willa, I'm going to the market for more garlic--your father is covering the front-of-shop. In the meantime, Lucinda Aberdeen has put in an order for a tincture of enchanted lavender for her insomnia. If you could fix it for her once you've finished making a paste of the garlic, I'll slip an extra silver into your allowance. Do add a pinch of cinnamon to the tincture, as well--it'll open the blood vessels, bring a quicker sleep. But I'm sure you knew as much. I'll see you before dinner, dear. Love, Mother] (font:"Garamond")[You mull over the letter, unsure of whether to go on with Annie, or tackle this new task for your mother, first. [[<a>Spoon the garlic paste into a jar and grab your coat off the rack. Annie will be waiting for you at the stables, and she'll be touchy if you're late.->C3 Apothecarist ANNIE 1]] [[<a>Finish the garlic, then move on to the tincture. Work is important, and Annie can wait.->C3 Apothecarist TASK 1]]]

(font: "Segoe Script")[Dear Willa, Your mother has sent me on a shop errand. Again. She's out of garlic, apparently, which you know they only sell at the Northtown Market, so I will be out of the house for the better part of the afternoon. I had hoped we'd get to opening the new shipment of pocket atlases today, but I'm afraid the occasion will have to wait 'til after dinner. In the meantime, if you could finish the border inks on Mister Branson's commission, I'll add an extra silver to your weekly allowance for all the trouble. Take care and please forgive me, my darling. I'll see you for dinner. Love, Father] (font: "Garamond")[You mull over the letter, unsure of whether to go on with Annie, or tackle this new task for your father, first. [[<m>Clean up your desk and fetch your coat. Annie will be waiting for you at the stables, and she'll be touchy if you're late.->C3 Mapmaker ANNIE 1]] [[<m>Finish the stamps, then start on the commissioned map. Work is important, and Annie can wait.->C3 Mapmaker TASK 1]]]

(font: "Garamond")[You grind the pestle into the garlic, finding release in the dry crack of the skins, the fragrant oil that spills from its broken flesh--but it soon becomes rote, thoughtless work, leaving your mind room to wander. Your friend Annie has asked you to go riding today, but all you can think about is how last year, Cyrus went with you, and Annie's horse nearly chomped off his fingers. You reach for another bulb of garlic and find an unfamiliar piece of paper on the counter. [[<a>Your mother has left a note for you.->C3 Apothecarist 5]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Still fastening the buttons of your coat, you walk out into the front-of-shop to retrieve your scarf from behind the counter, only to find that contrary to your mother's letter, the shop is empty, your father nowhere in sight. (text-colour:"#e9b2df")[//How typical,//] you think as you pluck your scarf off the peg. The bell above the door chimes. You turn around with a scowl on your face, expecting to see your father. Instead, there is a woman hewn from ice: white, cold-frizzed hair falls about an alabaster face, her skin so gossamer-thin you can see the marble of blue veins beneath her eyes. She's shaved her eyebrows, if she's ever grown them at all, but her pale lashes are long enough to feather her browbone in shadow. Even her clothes evade color, her cloak drifting to the floor in bolts ivory and pearl. You have seen her before. Perched atop a dais and haloed in copper sunset, the light sliding like molten iron through her fingers as she divined the names of the soon to be dead. Your stomach falls to your feet. [[<a>The Oracle of Aeverdam is standing in the middle of your shop.->C3 Apothecarist ANNIE 2]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You walk into the shop cupboard and begin scanning the shelves. The lavender is easy enough to find--your mother keeps it in a wood-lidded jar, nestled among several others like it, each home to herbs used in sleeping tinctures: chamomile flowers, magnolia bark, pithy strings of valerian root. Even if the jars weren't labeled, you could find anything you needed by its shape and smell. Lavender in hand, you move for the tiny, wax paper-lined drawer that houses the cinnamon sticks, only to find it empty. [[<a>Look for cinnamon in the front-of-shop.->C3 Apothecarist TASK 2]] [[<a>Forget it--bundle up and go riding with Annie.->C3 Apothecarist ANNIE 1]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Once you've finished inking the river, you gather your single-letter stamps and set about labeling the villages. It is rote, thoughtless work, leaving your mind room to wander. Your friend Annie has asked you to go riding today, but all you can think about is how last year, Cyrus went with you, and Annie's horse nearly chomped off his fingers. You move to dip your stamp in the inkpot and find an unfamiliar piece of paper on the desk. [[<m>Your father has left a note for you.->C3 Mapmaker 5]]]

(font: "Garamond")[Still fastening the buttons of your coat, you walk down into the living room to retrieve your scarf from the rack by the fireplace. A knock sounds at the front door. You expect it to be your mother, having left her house key in the bedroom again, and set your face in an anticipatory scowl. You regret it instantly. The somebody in the stairwell is not your mother, nor your father, but a woman hewn from ice. White, cold-frizzed hair falls about her alabaster face, her skin so gossamer-thin you can see the marble of blue veins beneath her eyes. She's shaved her eyebrows, if she's ever grown them at all, but her pale lashes are long enough to feather her browbone. Even her clothes evade color, her cloak drifting to the floor in bolts ivory and pearl. You have seen her before. Perched atop a dais and haloed in copper sunset, the light sliding like molten iron through her fingers as she divined the names of the soon to be dead. Your stomach falls to your feet. [[<m>The Oracle of Aeverdam is standing in the threshold of your house.->C3 Mapmaker ANNIE 2]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You finish the last of the stamps, then spread the map out on an empty shelf to dry and move to your father's desk. He's made just enough space for the commission piece, having pushed aside a fracas of notes and parchments, empty inkpots and water-fattened brushes. In the first months of your apprenticeship, you would urge him to tidy his workspace, but now you know his chaos is the calculated sort, and any caesura in his rhythm feels like a tear in the stars. You settle in his chair and cross your legs. The map for Mr. Branson is a beautiful one. Dark bronze lines mark the wall and the towns and the city, and the river is inked in a deep, silver-flecked blue, disappearing into an unfinished border of lush crimson botanicals. You fetch a fine-tip brush from your apron and lavish it in red ink. Your father bought you a new set of brushes for your birthday last week, but you have yet to open them--you're too fond of the feel of your old ones, their oakwood handles paled and dimpled by your fingers. You find an easy focus with them, and while you lack your father's artistry, you are plenty good at coloring in his lines. [[<m>Then a knock sounds at the front door, and your focus dissolves.->C3 Mapmaker TASK 2]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You go to search behind the shop counter, only to find that contrary to your mother's letter, the front-of-shop is empty, your father nowhere in sight. (text-colour:"#e9b2df")[//How typical,//] you think, as you crouch behind the counter and start sifting through the drawers. You find receipts, tags, extra bottles and jars, all manner of pre-ground herbs, but no cinnamon. The bell above the door chimes, and you curse under your breath. (text-colour:"#e9b2df")[//So much for one thing at a time.//] You rise above the counter with a scowl on your face, expecting to see your father. Instead, there is a woman hewn from ice: white, cold-frizzed hair falls about an alabaster face, her skin so gossamer-thin you can see the marble of blue veins beneath her eyes. She's shaved her eyebrows, if she's ever grown them at all, but her pale lashes are long enough to feather her browbone in shadow. Even her clothes evade color, her cloak drifting to the floor in bolts ivory and pearl. You have seen her before. Perched atop a dais and haloed in copper sunset, the light sliding like molten iron through her fingers as she divined the names of the sacrifices. Your stomach falls to your feet. [[<a>The Oracle of Aeverdam is standing in the middle of your shop.->C3 Apothecarist TASK 3]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["Are you busy, child?"] she asks you. Her voice is hollow, distant, as if she's speaking to you through water. //Are you busy?// What a bizarre question. You don't know why the Oracle of Aeverdam, in all her knowledge and foresight and Sisters-sent visions, would have to ask you a question at all. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["No, madam,"] you answer, because you can't just stand there slack-jawed like a hooked trout, then quickly add, (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I mean, Your Most Radiant Knowing."] She is unmoved by your use of her title--she walks towards you with slumped shoulders, her head jut out and tilted. This much surprises you. She has always looked so regal, so horrifically statuesque, when she has damned your brothers to die. You shouldn't be thinking like this. The Oracle is more than a client, an employer--she is the guidepost of your faith, the light you cling to in the lubricious dark of the living world. These are scriptures in your head, edging forth on instinct. Your grief turns up something far more sour. (text-style: "bold")["You are Willa Corbel,"] says the Oracle, and there it is--the Knowing. (text-style: "bold")["Daughter of Roma and Jon, sister of seven blessed Hunters."] You tense, and Cyrus's beak finds its way between your fingers. [[<a>"H-how can I help you?"->C3 Apothecarist TASK 3.5]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["Let me place an order, then,"] says the Oracle. (text-style: "bold")["I'm afraid my daughter has fallen ill."] You wince. You had almost forgotten the Oracle has children--but of course she does. The burden of seeing the future, of choosing the sacrifices, is a misfortune of the blood. Perhaps that is the reason for the weighted slant of her shoulders. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Are there no healers in the court?"] you ask, though you'll admit you don't know enough to be asking. The royals of Aeverdam are so distant in their wealth, so rapt in their own folly, you often forget they exist. (text-style: "bold")["They are quite busy, I'm afraid. The prince's brood are sick much the same,"] she answers. (text-style: "bold")["Besides. I wish to support my people."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I'll get right to work then."] Without a word, the Oracle comes closer. She does not touch you, but she waves a hand over your face, tracing a circle and cross over your features. Her eyes flicker again, and you know, this time, that the color you see is blue--a deep, metallic shade, like the sun on a raven's lost feather. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Wh-what are you doing?"] you stammer. (text-style: "bold")["I am looking at you, Willa."] [[<a>"What do you see?"->C3 Apothecarist TASK 3-2A]] [[<a>"I'm sorry. I should've known." You give an awkward wave. "You can just...carry on."->C3 Apothecarist TASK 3-2B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["You see, that worries me,"] says the Oracle. (text-style: "bold")["Our Luminous Queen suggests a powder treatment, enchanted, best with a hot beverage."] Of course it is. How could you not remember? Perhaps it is the Oracle's presence that has clouded your judgment. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Yes, I can arrange that, then. I'm sorry."] Without a word, the Oracle comes closer. She does not touch you, but she waves a hand over your face, tracing a circle and cross over your features. Her eyes flicker again, and you know, this time, that the color you see is blue--a deep, metallic shade, like the sun on a raven's lost feather. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Wh-what are you doing?"] you stammer. (text-style: "bold")["I am looking at you, Willa."] [[<a>"What do you see?"->C3 Apothecarist TASK 3-2A]] [[<a>"I'm sorry. I should've known." You give an awkward wave. "You can just...carry on."->C3 Apothecarist TASK 3-2B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["There is no need to be afraid of me, child,"] she says. (text-style: "bold")["I am only another customer."] You unclench your hand, and the bracelet leaves your palm--the Oracle hears the clatter, and you swear her eyes flash, briefly hued by some indiscernible color. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["My mother will be back soon. She just went to the market,"] you say, your tongue thick in your mouth. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["She's probably more suited to fill your order."] (text-style: "bold")["I am not interested in what your mother can make for me,"] she says, then pauses. (text-style: "bold")["I am //interested// in what I might receive from you."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Oh."] (text-style: "bold")["Tell me, Willa--what would you recommend for a cough? A serious one, I might add. Blood-laden. Persistent."] [[<a>"A powder enchantment," you tell her. "One with ginger and radish and a little silver daisy."->C3 Apothecarist TASK 3-1A]] [[<a>"I could fix you a tonic," you say, stammering. "My mother says there are few things a little bubbles can't cure."->C3 Apothecarist TASK 3-1B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold")["I see capability,"] she says. (text-style:"bold")["Potential. Danger. You are...quite different from your brothers, Sisters rest their souls."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Well, I was only related to one of them,"] you say, with a dryness that Cyrus would admire. She smiles at you, now, though it is unfit for her face, her crystalline eyes unmoving. (text-style:"bold")["Ah--and clever,"] she remarks. (text-style:"bold")["You are a mage, yes?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Just like my mother,"] you say, proudly. Her mouth twists, her bald brow furrows. (text-style: "bold")["Not 'just like'--you are stronger,"] she says. You do not believe her, but you have no choice but to let her go on. (text-style: "bold")["And this job I've given you will show you the genuine measure of your strength."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Is that a prophecy?"] you ask. (text-style: "bold")["No, Willa,"] she says, and there is that smile again, so coy and incomplete. (text-style: "bold")["Simply a hunch."] She reaches into a pocket and lays ten round, gleaming silvers on the counter. (text-style: "bold")["That should cover it. I'll send a page tomorrow to collect the powder. I trust it will do its job by the Solstice."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Of course, Your Most Radiant Knowing."] You move to fetch the order slips for her, but by the time you resurface from beneath the counter, she is already gone. [[<a>You suddenly care very little about Lucinda Aberdeen and her insomnia.->C3 Apothecarist TASK 4]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["You're not so frightful a girl,"] says the Oracle. (text-style: "bold")["Not as much as you want to seem."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I didn't intend to be. I'm sorry."] (text-style: "bold")["Please, no more apologizing. You have not done anything wrong, and are only weakening yourself by trying to convince me,"] she says. Her words feel like a jab in the gut, prodding right at your impulse to say //sorry// once more. (text-style: "bold")["And you should not weaken yourself. You are a mage, yes?"] You nod. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Just like my mother."] (text-style: "bold")["No, Willa. I think you are different,"] she says, stretching her breath on the word //different//, as if it is a riddle you must solve. (text-style: "bold")["I think you are stronger."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["You speak very boldly, Your Most Radiant--"] (text-style: "bold")["--Ah-ah. What did I just say about making yourself weak?"] she chides. (text-style: "bold")["But if you're so inclined to judge yourself, let my order serve as a legitimate test of your strength."] She reaches into a pocket and lays ten round, gleaming silvers on the counter. (text-style: "bold")["That should cover it. I'll send a page tomorrow to collect the powder. I trust it will do its job by the Solstice."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Of course, Your Radiant Knowing."] You move to fetch the order slips for her, but by the time you resurface from beneath the counter, she is already gone. [[<a>You suddenly care very little about Lucinda Aberdeen and her insomnia.->C3 Apothecarist TASK 4]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The ten silvers on your counter are an impossible responsibility; you struggle to treat them like any other payment, mix them in with the rest of today's coins in the lockbox nailed beneath the counter. //The Oracle of Aeverdam//, in your little shop. Your mother will have a raucous fit. And then she'll snatch the job right from your hands. You tap your fingers along the counter, finding comfort in its familiar notches and grooves. You could always keep this one for yourself: don't lie, don't pocket the money, just make the order out to (text-colour:"blue")[//a Royal Page//] and scribble an emphatic (text-colour:"red")[//Willa's!//] along the bottom of the slip. This, too, must be part of the Oracle's test--and it is far too important to rush. You tuck the coins in the lockbox and write the order under the counter, watching the door for your parents and thinking you probably //should// find that cinnamon, just to [[<a>avoid any cause for suspicion.->C3 Apothecarist TASK 5]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["There is no need to be afraid of me, child,"] she says. (text-style: "bold")["I am only another customer."] You unclench your hand, and the bracelet leaves your palm--the Oracle hears the clatter, and you swear her eyes flash, briefly hued by some indiscernible color. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["My mother will be back soon. She just went to the market,"] you say, your tongue thick in your mouth. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["She's probably more suited to fill your order."] (text-style: "bold")["I am not interested in what your mother can make for me,"] she says, then pauses. (text-style: "bold")["I am //interested// in what I might receive from you."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Oh."] (text-style: "bold")["Tell me, Willa--what would you recommend for a cough? A serious one, I might add. Blood-laden. Persistent."] [[<a>"A powder enchantment," you tell her. "One with ginger and radish and a little silver daisy."->C3 Apothecarist ANNIE 3-1A]] [[<a>"I could fix you a tonic," you say, stammering. "My mother says there are few things a little bubbles can't cure."->C3 Apothecarist ANNIE 3-1B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["Let me place an order, then,"] says the Oracle. (text-style: "bold")["I'm afraid my daughter has fallen quite ill."] You wince. You had almost forgotten the Oracle has children--but of course she does. The burden of seeing the future, of choosing the sacrifices, is a misfortune of the blood. Perhaps that is the reason for the weighted slant of her shoulders. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Are there no healers in the court?"] you ask, though you'll admit you don't know enough to be asking. The royals of Aeverdam are so distant in their wealth, so rapt in their own folly, you often forget they exist. (text-style: "bold")["They are quite busy, I'm afraid. The prince's brood are sick much the same,"] she answers. (text-style: "bold")["Besides. I wish to support my people."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I'll get right to work then."] Without a word, the Oracle comes closer. She does not touch you, but she waves a hand over your face, tracing a circle and cross over your features. Her eyes flicker again, and you know, this time, that the color you see is blue--a deep, metallic shade, like the sun on a raven's lost feather. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Wh-what are you doing?"] you stammer. (text-style: "bold")["I am looking at you, Willa."] [[<a>"What do you see?"->C3 Apothecarist ANNIE 3-2A]] [[<a>"I'm sorry. I should've known." You give an awkward wave. "You can just...carry on."->C3 Apothecarist ANNIE 3-2B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["You see, that worries me,"] says the Oracle. (text-style: "bold")["Our Luminous Queen suggests a powder treatment, enchanted, best with a hot beverage."] Of course it is. How could you not remember? Perhaps it is the Oracle's presence that has clouded your judgment. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Yes, I can arrange that, then. I'm sorry."] Without a word, the Oracle comes closer. She does not touch you, but she waves a hand over your face, tracing a circle and cross over your features. Her eyes flicker again, and you know, this time, that the color you see is blue--a deep, metallic shade, like the sun on a raven's lost feather. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Wh-what are you doing?"] you stammer. (text-style: "bold")["I am looking at you, Willa."] [[<a>"What do you see?"->C3 Apothecarist ANNIE 3-2A]] [[<a>"I'm sorry. I should've known." You give an awkward wave. "You can just...carry on."->C3 Apothecarist ANNIE 3-2B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold")["I see capability,"] she says. (text-style:"bold")["Potential. Danger. You are...quite different from your brothers, Sisters rest their souls."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Well, I was only related to one of them,"] you say, with a dryness that Cyrus would admire. She smiles at you, now, though it is unfit for her face, her crystalline eyes unmoving. (text-style:"bold")["Ah--and clever,"] she remarks. (text-style:"bold")["You are a mage, yes?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Just like my mother,"] you say, proudly. Her mouth twists, her bald brow furrows. (text-style: "bold")["Not 'just like'--you are stronger,"] she says. You do not believe her, but you have no choice but to let her go on. (text-style: "bold")["And this job I've given you will show you the genuine measure of your strength."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Is that a prophecy?"] you ask. (text-style: "bold")["No, Willa,"] she says, and there is that smile again, so coy and incomplete. (text-style: "bold")["Simply a hunch."] She reaches into a pocket and lays ten round, gleaming silvers on the counter. (text-style: "bold")["That should cover it. I'll send a page tomorrow to collect the powder. I trust it will do its job by the Solstice."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Of course, Your Most Radiant Knowing."] You move to fetch the order slips for her, but by the time you resurface from beneath the counter, she is already gone. [[<a>You suddenly care very little about Annie and her chronic impatience.->C3 Apothecarist ANNIE 4]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["You're not so frightful a girl,"] says the Oracle. (text-style: "bold")["Not as much as you want to seem."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I didn't intend to be. I'm sorry."] (text-style: "bold")["Please, no more apologizing. You have not done anything wrong, and are only weakening yourself by trying to convince me,"] she says. Her words feel like a jab in the gut, prodding right at your impulse to say //sorry// once more. (text-style: "bold")["And you should not weaken yourself. You are a mage, yes?"] You nod. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Just like my mother."] (text-style: "bold")["No, Willa. I think you are different,"] she says, stretching her breath on the word //different//, as if it is a riddle you must solve. (text-style: "bold")["I think you are stronger."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["You speak very boldly, Your Most Radiant--"] (text-style: "bold")["--Ah-ah. What did I just say about making yourself weak?"] she chides. (text-style: "bold")["But if you're so inclined to judge yourself, let my order serve as a legitimate test of your strength."] She reaches into a pocket and lays ten round, gleaming silvers on the counter. (text-style: "bold")["That should cover it. I'll send a page tomorrow to collect the powder. I trust it will do its job by the Solstice."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Of course, Your Radiant Knowing."] You move to fetch the order slips for her, but by the time you resurface from beneath the counter, she is already gone. [[<a>You suddenly care very little about Annie and her chronic impatience.->C3 Apothecarist ANNIE 4]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The ten silvers on your counter are an impossible responsibility; you struggle to treat them like any other payment, mix them in with the rest of today's coins in the lockbox nailed beneath the counter. //The Oracle of Aeverdam//, in your little shop. Your mother will have a raucous fit. And then she'll snatch the responsibility right from your hands. You tap your fingers along the counter, finding comfort in its familiar notches and grooves. You could always keep this one for yourself: don't lie, don't pocket the money, just make the order out to (text-colour:"blue")[//a Royal Page//] and scribble an emphatic (text-colour:"red")[//Willa's!//] along the bottom of the slip. This, too, must be part of the Oracle's test--and it is far too important to rush. You tuck the coins in the lockbox and write the order under the counter, watching the door for your parents and thinking you probably //should// find that cinnamon, just to [[<a>avoid any cause for suspicion.->C3 Apothecarist TASK 5]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Your anger is an elegy, a bloodred scherzo that burns from your head down your spine, raising a flush to your cheeks and tears to your eyes. Here she is, the woman who took your brothers from you, and all you can do is stare at her dumbfounded, one hand clamped onto the railing to keep yourself from tumbling down the stairs. (text-style: "bold")["Are you busy, child?"] she asks you, calmly. Her voice is hollow, distant, as if she's speaking to you through water. //Are you busy?// What a bizarre question. You don't know why the Oracle of Aeverdam, in all her knowing and foresight and Sisters-sent visions, would have to ask you a question at all. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["No,"] you answer, because you can't just stand there slack-jawed like a hooked trout, then quickly add, (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I mean--no, //Your Most Radiant Knowing.//"] If she notices the edge of hatred you've given her title, she does not show it. (text-style: "bold")["May I come up, then? I'd very much like to see the studio of the one Jon Corbel."] You step back and aside, leaving room for her to enter the foyer. When you lift your hand, you hope she doesn't notice the way it shivers with rage. [[<m>"Right this way."->C3 Mapmaker ANNIE 3]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You leave the study and answer the door--you expect it to be your mother outside, having left her house key in the bedroom again, and set your face in an anticipatory scowl. You regret it instantly. The somebody in the stairwell is not your mother, nor your father, but a woman hewn from ice. White, cold-frizzed hair falls about her alabaster face, her skin so gossamer-thin you can see the marble of blue veins beneath her eyes. She's shaved her eyebrows, if she's ever grown them at all, but her pale lashes are long enough to feather her browbone. Even her clothes evade color, her cloak drifting to the floor in bolts ivory and pearl. You have seen her before. Perched atop a dais and haloed in copper sunset, the light sliding like molten iron through her fingers as she divined the names of the soon to be dead. Your stomach falls to your feet. [[<m>The Oracle of Aeverdam is standing in the threshold of your house.->C3 Mapmaker TASK 3]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Your anger is an elegy, a bloodred scherzo that burns from your head down your spine, raising a flush to your cheeks and tears to your eyes. Here she is, the woman who took your brothers from you, and all you can do is stare at her dumbfounded, one hand clamped onto the railing to keep yourself from tumbling down the stairs. (text-style: "bold")["Are you busy, child?"] she asks you, calmly. Her voice is hollow, distant, as if she's speaking to you through water. //Are you busy?// What a bizarre question. You don't know why the Oracle of Aeverdam, in all her knowledge and foresight and Sisters-sent visions, would have to ask you a question at all. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["No,"] you answer, because you can't just stand there slack-jawed like a hooked trout, then quickly add, (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I mean--no, //Your Most Radiant Knowing.//"] If she notices the edge of hatred you've given her title, she does not show it. (text-style: "bold")["May I come up, then? I'd very much like to see the studio of the one Jon Corbel."] You step back and aside, leaving room for her to enter the foyer. When you lift your hand, you hope she doesn't notice Cyrus's beak between your fingers. [[<m>"Right this way."->C3 Mapmaker TASK 3.5]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["My father isn't home, I'm afraid,"] you say, keeping your back turned as you lead her into the study. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Did you meet my mother? She'd be honored."] (text-style: "bold")["She was busy, fretting over a missing jar of garlic. I thought it best not to bother her,"] she says. (text-style: "bold")["You know, there is no need to be so curt with me, child. I mean you no harm."] As you turn around to glimpse her, you unclench your hand, and the bracelet leaves your palm--the Oracle hears the clatter, and you swear her eyes flash, briefly hued by some indiscernible color. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Are you interested in one of my father's maps? He makes atlases, as well."] (text-style: "bold")["I am not interested in what your father can make for me,"] she says, then pauses. (text-style: "bold")["I am //interested// in what I might receive from you."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Oh."] You pause in the entry to the study--the Oracle is unenthused by the books and riveted by you. You try not to shudder. (text-style: "bold")["Tell me, Willa,] she starts, and your name slides like frozen oil down your back. (text-style: "bold")["Were you to make me a map, how would you illuminate the Woodlands beyond the wall?"] [[<m>"Hatched trees," you tell her. "A simple pattern, easy enough to understand."->C3 Mapmaker TASK 3-1A]] [[<m>"Stencil letters. Same way we mark everything. Is this some sort of trick?"->C3 Mapmaker TASK 3-1B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["My father isn't home, I'm afraid,"] you say, keeping your back turned as you lead her into the study. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Did you meet my mother? She'd be honored."] (text-style: "bold")["She was busy, fretting over a missing jar of garlic. I thought it best not to bother her,"] she says. (text-style: "bold")["You know, there is no need to be so curt with me, child. I mean you no harm."] As you turn around to glimpse her, you unclench your hand, and the bracelet leaves your palm--the Oracle hears the clatter, and you swear her eyes flash, briefly hued by some indiscernible color. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Are you interested in one of my father's maps? He makes atlases, as well."] (text-style: "bold")["I am not interested in what your father can make for me,"] she says, then pauses. (text-style: "bold")["I am //interested// in what I might receive from you."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Oh."] You pause in the entry to the study--the Oracle is unenthused by the books and riveted by you. You try not to shudder. (text-style: "bold")["Tell me, Willa,] she starts, and your name slides like frozen oil down your back. (text-style: "bold")["Were you to make me a map, how would you illuminate the Woodlands beyond the wall?"] [[<m>"Hatched trees," you tell her. "A simple pattern, easy enough to understand."->C3 Mapmaker ANNIE 3-1A]] [[<m>"Stencil letters. Same way we mark everything. Is this some sort of trick?"->C3 Mapmaker ANNIE 3-1B]]]

(font: "Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["Very good, yes. I'd like to commission you, then,"] she says. (text-style: "bold")["My youngest daughter has been hankering for a map of the Kingdom, but she can't read a word."] You wince. You had almost forgotten the Oracle has children--but of course she does. The burden of seeing the future, of choosing the sacrifices, is a misfortune of the blood. Perhaps that is the reason for the weighted slant of her shoulders. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Are there no mapmakers in the court?"] you ask, though you'll admit you don't know enough to be asking. The royals of Aeverdam are so distant in their wealth, so rapt in their own folly, you often forget they exist. (text-style: "bold")["Our Luminous King has nonesuch to recommend,"] she answers. (text-style: "bold")["Besides. I wish to support the common people."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I'll get right to work then."] Without a word, the Oracle comes closer. She does not touch you, but she waves a hand over your face, tracing a circle and cross over your features. Her eyes flicker again, and you know, this time, that the color you see is blue--a deep, metallic shade, like the sun on a raven's lost feather. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Wh-what are you doing?"] you stammer. (text-style: "bold")["I am looking at you, Willa."] [[<m>"Right. Of course you are. Sorry."->C3 Mapmaker TASK 3-2B]] [[<m>"...What do you see?"->C3 Mapmaker TASK 3-2A]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["Just the lettering? No, I'm afraid that won't do,"] says the Oracle. (text-style: "bold")["My youngest daughter has been hankering for a map of the Kingdom, but she can't read a word."] You wince. You had almost forgotten the Oracle has children--but of course she does. The burden of seeing the future, of choosing the sacrifices, is a misfortune of the blood. Perhaps that is the reason for the weighted slant of her shoulders. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I'll draw the trees, then. A hatch pattern,"] you tell her, thinking selfishly of the money it could earn you, the clients her sponsorship might reap. She has power, magic or not, and you have no qualms about taking a little for your own. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["They won't be perfect, but she'll know."] (text-style: "bold")["Will she ask questions?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Most children do,"] you answer, glib. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["If the commission is urgent, I'll get right to work."] Without a word, the Oracle comes closer. She does not touch you, but she waves a hand over your face, tracing a circle and cross over your features. Her eyes flicker again, and you know, this time, that the color you see is blue--a deep, metallic shade, like the sun on a raven's lost feather. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Wh-what are you doing?"] you stammer. (text-style: "bold")["I am looking at you, Willa."] [[<m>"Right. Of course you are. Sorry."->C3 Mapmaker TASK 3-2B]] [[<m>"...What do you see?"->C3 Mapmaker TASK 3-2A]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold")["I see capability,"] she says. (text-style:"bold")["Potential. Danger. You are...quite different from your brothers, Sisters rest their souls."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Well, I was only related to one of them,"] you say, with a dryness that Cyrus would admire. She smiles at you, now, though it is unfit for her face, her crystalline eyes unmoving. (text-style:"bold")["Ah--and clever,"] she remarks. (text-style:"bold")["You are a mage, yes?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I don't use my magic,"] you say, although it is there, it always has been, a quiet fire between your ribs that flares and dithers whenever you think of it. You wonder if the Oracle can't sense it, now, hungering to break free from your hands, to sink its lightning-jagged roots in something soft and prone, to heal something broken and make it whole again. (text-style: "bold")["What a shame,"] says the Oracle. (text-style: "bold")["You are strong, Willa Corbel. You should expect that strength to be tested. Perhaps sooner, rather than later."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Is that a prophecy?"] you ask, and you hope she hears the acid in your voice, feels it scathe red and bubbling down her skin. Was taking all seven of your brothers not a 'test' enough? (text-style: "bold")["No, Willa,"] she says, and there is that smile again, so coy and incomplete. (text-style: "bold")["Simply a hunch."] She reaches into a pocket and lays ten round, gleaming silvers on the counter. (text-style: "bold")["That should cover it. I'll send a page next week to check on the map. I trust you'll have it done by the Solstice."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["We honor our deadlines, here."] (text-style: "bold")["Very good."] You move to fetch your father's commission book for her, but by the time you look up from his desk drawers, she has already seen herself out, the study door swinging in her wake, and [[<m>you suddenly care very little about Mr. Branson and his unfinished maps.->C3 Mapmaker TASK 4]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["You're not so prickly a girl, are you?"] says the Oracle. (text-style: "bold")["Not as much as you want to seem."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["With all due respect, I have seven souls of grief in my body,"] you say. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["If that makes me prickly on occasion, I'm very sorry."] (text-style: "bold")["Please, no more apologizing. You have not done anything wrong, and are only weakening yourself by trying to convince me,"] she says. Her words feel like a jab in the gut, prodding right at your girlish impulse to say //sorry// once more. (text-style: "bold")["And you should not weaken yourself. You are a mage, yes?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I don't use my magic,"] you say, although it is there, it always has been, a quiet fire between your ribs that flares and dithers whenever you think of it. You wonder if the Oracle can't sense it, now, hungering to break free from your hands, to sink its lightning-jagged roots in something soft and prone, to heal something broken and make it whole again. (text-style: "bold")["What a shame,"] says the Oracle. (text-style: "bold")["You are strong, Willa Corbel. You should expect that strength to be tested. Perhaps sooner, rather than later."] She reaches into a pocket and lays ten round, gleaming silvers on the counter. (text-style: "bold")["That should cover it. I'll send a page next week to check on the map. I trust you'll have it done by the Solstice."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["We honor our deadlines, here."] (text-style: "bold")["Very good."] You move to fetch your father's commission book for her, but by the time you look up from his desk drawers, she has already seen herself out, the study door swinging in her wake, and [[<m>you suddenly care very little about Mr. Branson and his unfinished maps.->C3 Mapmaker TASK 4]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You're still trembling once the Oracle is gone, once you've coiled yourself in the window of your parents' bedroom and watched her disappear into a carriage parked on the side of your street. Its black roof is speckled with white--the first snow of the year has begun to powder the city, and the air is just cold enough for it to stick. The carriage rolls away, and you pace back to the study. The ten silvers on your father's desk are an impossible responsibility; you struggle to treat them like any other payment, mix them in with the rest of your father's profits. //The Oracle of Aeverdam//, commissioning a Corbel map. Your father will be horrified. He may be the only person in Aeverdam who despises her more than you do. But he doesn't have to know. You can keep the silvers for yourself, and finish the map while he sleeps. It is //your// test, after all--should you not be allowed to reap its profits? It's settled. You'll hide the silvers beneath your mattress and make the map in the early mornings, leaving ample time for the inks to dry. In the meantime, [[<m>you'll go ahead and finish those inks your father asked of you. Best to avoid any cause for suspicion.->C3 Mapmaker TASK 5]] ]

(font: "Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["Very good, yes. I'd like to commission you, then,"] she says. (text-style: "bold")["My youngest daughter has been hankering for a map of the Kingdom, but she can't read a word."] You wince. You had almost forgotten the Oracle has children--but of course she does. The burden of seeing the future, of choosing the sacrifices, is a misfortune of the blood. Perhaps that is the reason for the weighted slant of her shoulders. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Are there no mapmakers in the court?"] you ask, though you'll admit you don't know enough to be asking. The royals of Aeverdam are so distant in their wealth, so rapt in their own folly, you often forget they exist. (text-style: "bold")["Our Luminous King has nonesuch to recommend,"] she answers. (text-style: "bold")["Besides. I wish to support the common people."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I'll get right to work then."] Without a word, the Oracle comes closer. She does not touch you, but she waves a hand over your face, tracing a circle and cross over your features. Her eyes flicker again, and you know, this time, that the color you see is blue--a deep, metallic shade, like the sun on a raven's lost feather. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Wh-what are you doing?"] you stammer. (text-style: "bold")["I am looking at you, Willa."] [[<m>"Right. Of course you are. Sorry."->C3 Mapmaker ANNIE 3-2B]] [[<m>"...What do you see?"->C3 Mapmaker ANNIE 3-2A]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["Just the lettering? No, I'm afraid that won't do,"] says the Oracle. (text-style: "bold")["My youngest daughter has been hankering for a map of the Kingdom, but she can't read a word."] You wince. You had almost forgotten the Oracle has children--but of course she does. The burden of seeing the future, of choosing the sacrifices, is a misfortune of the blood. Perhaps that is the reason for the weighted slant of her shoulders. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I'll draw the trees, then. A hatch pattern,"] you tell her, thinking selfishly of the money it could earn you, the clients her sponsorship might reap. She has power, magic or not, and you have no qualms about taking a little for your own. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["They won't be perfect, but she'll know."] (text-style: "bold")["Will she ask questions?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Most children do,"] you answer, glib. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["If the commission is urgent, I'll get right to work."] Without a word, the Oracle comes closer. She does not touch you, but she waves a hand over your face, tracing a circle and cross over your features. Her eyes flicker again, and you know, this time, that the color you see is blue--a deep, metallic shade, like the sun on a raven's lost feather. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Wh-what are you doing?"] you stammer. (text-style: "bold")["I am looking at you, Willa."] [[<m>"Right. Of course you are. Sorry."->C3 Mapmaker ANNIE 3-2B]] [[<m>"...What do you see?"->C3 Mapmaker ANNIE 3-2A]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["You're not so prickly a girl, are you?"] says the Oracle. (text-style: "bold")["Not as much as you want to seem."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["With all due respect, I have seven souls of grief in my body,"] you say. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["If that makes me prickly on occasion, I'm very sorry."] (text-style: "bold")["Please, no more apologizing. You have not done anything wrong, and are only weakening yourself by trying to convince me,"] she says. Her words feel like a jab in the gut, prodding right at your girlish impulse to say //sorry// once more. (text-style: "bold")["And you should not weaken yourself. You are a mage, yes?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I don't use my magic,"] you say, although it is there, it always has been, a quiet fire between your ribs that flares and dithers whenever you think of it. You wonder if the Oracle can't sense it, now, hungering to break free from your hands, to sink its lightning-jagged roots in something soft and prone, to heal something broken and make it whole again. (text-style: "bold")["What a shame,"] says the Oracle. (text-style: "bold")["You are strong, Willa Corbel. You should expect that strength to be tested. Perhaps sooner, rather than later."] She reaches into a pocket and lays ten round, gleaming silvers on the counter. (text-style: "bold")["That should cover it. I'll send a page next week to check on the map. I trust you'll have it done by the Solstice."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["We honor our deadlines, here."] (text-style: "bold")["Very good."] You move to fetch your father's commission book for her, but by the time you look up from his desk drawers, she has already seen herself out, the study door swinging in her wake, and [[<m>you suddenly care very little about Annie and her chronic impatience.->C3 Mapmaker ANNIE 4]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold")["I see capability,"] she says. (text-style:"bold")["Potential. Danger. You are...quite different from your brothers, Sisters rest their souls."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Well, I was only related to one of them,"] you say, with a dryness that Cyrus would admire. She smiles at you, now, though it is unfit for her face, her crystalline eyes unmoving. (text-style:"bold")["Ah--and clever,"] she remarks. (text-style:"bold")["You are a mage, yes?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I don't use my magic,"] you say, although it is there, it always has been, a quiet fire between your ribs that flares and dithers whenever you think of it. You wonder if the Oracle can't sense it, now, hungering to break free from your hands, to sink its lightning-jagged roots in something soft and prone, to heal something broken and make it whole again. (text-style: "bold")["What a shame,"] says the Oracle. (text-style: "bold")["You are strong, Willa Corbel. You should expect that strength to be tested. Perhaps sooner, rather than later."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Is that a prophecy?"] you ask, and you hope she hears the acid in your voice, feels it scathe red and bubbling down her skin. Was taking all seven of your brothers not a 'test' enough? (text-style: "bold")["No, Willa,"] she says, and there is that smile again, so coy and incomplete. (text-style: "bold")["Simply a hunch."] She reaches into a pocket and lays ten round, gleaming silvers on the counter. (text-style: "bold")["That should cover it. I'll send a page next week to check on the map. I trust you'll have it done by the Solstice."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["We honor our deadlines, here."] (text-style: "bold")["Very good."] You move to fetch your father's commission book for her, but by the time you look up from his desk drawers, she has already seen herself out, the study door swinging in her wake, and [[<m>you suddenly care very little about Annie and her chronic impatience.->C3 Mapmaker ANNIE 4]]]

(font: "Garamond")[By the time you've found the cinnamon and made the base for the tincture, the upstairs clock is (text-style:"fade-in-out")[chiming] three and the snow has formed a petal-thin membrane on the streets and rooftops. The enchantment will have to wait. Annie will be furious if you don't get there soon. As you bundle up to leave, your father returns to the store, his face wind-beaten and eyes glassy from the cold. He does not ask you what you're doing--does not even ask if you're going out, at all. You give him a questioning look, hoping to say (text-colour:"#e9b2df")[//Did you see the Oracle?//] without so much as a twitch of your mouth or hands, but he simply walks past you, indifferent. You have long stopped trying to understand him, and [[<a>today won't be the day you start again.->C3 Apothecarist 6]] ]

(font: "Garamond")[By the time you've lain the last curl of red ink, the hallway clock is (text-style:"fade-in-out")[chiming] three and the snow has formed a petal-thin membrane on the streets and rooftops. You bundle up again and walk down into the shop to find your mother embroiled in a pitch to a customer, the necks of several vials clutched between her fingers. [[<m>You catch her eye briefly,->C3 Mapmaker 6]] wondering if she's seen the Oracle, if she wants to talk about it, but she simply mouths a //thank you// and waves you on out the door. ]

(font:"Garamond")[The stables where you keep your horse are a brisk thirty minutes from your house, and while the warmth of the furnace holds fast in your ribs, you find your fingers growing cold through your gloves, your nose swiftly losing feeling. You hope Annie won't be too upset with you--really, you just hope she's still there. If not, she'll show up at the shop tomorrow, make a red-faced scene in front of your mother and anyone else within earshot, and then your mother will besiege you with an ages-long lecture about spending time with more well-mannered girls. Annie wasn't even your friend in the first place. She was Cyrus's, and she loved him, and now that he's dead, [[<m>you'll simply have to do.->C3 Mapmaker 7]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Curse-breaking, as any well-educated mage would have you know, is a task of extraordinary difficulty. Curses are much easier to wound, or tear, incised open to [[reveal their red, pulpy weaknesses.->Prologue 0.5]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You find Annie strolling her horse around the paddock. She's dressed like the wooden toy soldiers left on Solstice altars--a red silk coat and black bear-pelt hat, her lacy white scarf squirming out of the folds of her collar. When she catches sight of you, she slows her horse to a trot and guides him to the edge of the fence. [[<m>"Hey Annie. Sorry I'm late."->C3 Mapmaker 8A]] [[<m>"How's Pasha?"->C3 Mapmaker 8B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You find Annie strolling her horse around the paddock. She's dressed like the wooden toy soldiers left on Solstice altars--a red silk coat and black bear-pelt hat, her lacy white scarf squirming out of the folds of her collar. When she catches sight of you, she slows her horse to a trot and guides him to the edge of the fence. [[<a>"Hey Annie. Sorry I'm late."->C3 Apothecarist 8A]] [[<a>"How's Pasha?"->C3 Apothecarist 8B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["All is forgiven,"] says Annie. She pats her horse on the hip with her riding crop. (text-style: "bold")["Pasha needed a warmup, anyways."] Calm washes over you. With Annie in a good mood, today's ride might actually be fun--and you could use a little fun after the weight of the afternoon. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["You didn't think I'd abandoned you?"] (text-style: "bold")["Oh, I did there for a few minutes,"] she chirps. (text-style: "bold")["Just thought I'd make the best of it."] You narrow your eyes. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Something good happened today?"] (text-style: "bold")["Get in the saddle and I'll tell you,"] she says, winking. You start towards the barn, but you aren't walking fast enough for Annie--she thwacks her crop against the air, spurring you on. (text-style: "bold")["Don't make us wait any longer, Willa Corbel!"] she calls, the words half-lost to laughter. [[<m>As you push aside the barn doors, you can still hear her giggling.->C3 Mapmaker 9]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[A grin splits her lips. (text-style: "bold")["Mad at you, 'cause you're late,"] she says. (text-style: "bold")["You're lucky I'm not so fussy."] Calm washes over you. With Annie in a good mood, today's ride might actually be fun--and you could use a little fun after the weight of the afternoon. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["You...didn't think I'd abandoned you?"] (text-style: "bold")["Oh, I did there for a few minutes,"] she chirps. (text-style: "bold")["Just thought I'd make the best of it."] You narrow your eyes. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Something good happened today?"] (text-style: "bold")["Get your saddle and I'll tell you,"] she says, winking. You start towards the barn, but you aren't walking fast enough for Annie--she thwacks her crop against the air, spurring you on. (text-style: "bold")["Don't make us wait any longer, Willa Corbel!"] she calls, the words half-lost to laughter. [[<m>As you push aside the barn doors, you can still hear her giggling.->C3 Mapmaker 9]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["All is forgiven,"] says Annie. She pats her horse on the hip with her riding crop. (text-style: "bold")["Pasha needed a warmup, anyways."] Calm washes over you. With Annie in a good mood, today's ride might actually be fun--and you could use a little fun after the weight of the afternoon. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["You didn't think I'd abandoned you?"] (text-style: "bold")["Oh, I did there for a few minutes,"] she chirps. (text-style: "bold")["Just thought I'd make the best of it."] You narrow your eyes. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Something good happened today?"] (text-style: "bold")["Get in the saddle and I'll tell you,"] she says, winking. You start towards the barn, but you aren't walking fast enough for Annie--she thwacks her crop against the air, spurring you on. (text-style: "bold")["Don't make us wait any longer, Willa Corbel!"] she calls, the words half-lost to laughter. [[<a>As you push aside the barn doors, you can still hear her giggling.->C3 Apothecarist 9]]]

(font:"Garamond")[A grin splits her lips. (text-style: "bold")["Mad at you, 'cause you're late,"] she says. (text-style: "bold")["You're lucky I'm not so fussy."] Calm washes over you. With Annie in a good mood, today's ride might actually be fun--and you could use a little fun after the weight of the afternoon. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["You...didn't think I'd abandoned you?"] (text-style: "bold")["Oh, I did there for a few minutes,"] she chirps. (text-style: "bold")["Just thought I'd make the best of it."] You narrow your eyes. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Something good happened today?"] (text-style: "bold")["Get your saddle and I'll tell you,"] she says, winking. You start towards the barn, but you aren't walking fast enough for Annie--she thwacks her crop against the air, spurring you on. (text-style: "bold")["Don't make us wait any longer, Willa Corbel!"] she calls, the words half-lost to laughter. [[<a>As you push aside the barn doors, you can still hear her giggling.->C3 Apothecarist 9]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Near the back of the stables, your horse, Kordi, leans her head over her stall door. Her coat is the dark red-brown of the river in summer, catching long sheens of gray daylight as she kicks at the hay. She whinnies when she spots you, almost as if she's saying //hello.// She was your father's horse, first--but you venture she likes you better. You stroke her nose as you maneuver into the stall, then give her bridle a tug, checking its tightness. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Hi, girl. Ready to go?"] Kordi tosses her head. [[<m>"I'll take that as a yes."->C3 Mapmaker 9.5]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Near the back of the stables, your horse, Kordi, leans her head over her stall door. Her coat is the dark red-brown of the river in summer, catching long sheens of gray daylight as she kicks at the hay. She whinnies when she spots you, almost as if she's saying //hello.// She was your father's horse, first--but you venture she likes you better. You stroke her nose as you maneuver into the stall, then give her bridle a tug, checking its tightness. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Hi, girl. Ready to go?"] Kordi tosses her head. [[<a>"I'll take that as a yes."->C3 Apothecarist 9.5]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You drape the back-sling over your shoulder and return, then saddle and climb onto Kordi. When you emerge from the barn, you find that Annie has already opened the paddock gate. She and Pasha wait outside, the reins roped twice around her hands. (text-style:"bold")["Are we off to chop some wood, little lumberjack?"] she asks. [[<m>"I know you're taking me through the forest, Annie. It's not wise to go unarmed."->C3 Mapmaker 10-1A]] [[<m>"Shush. Don't you have a story to tell me?"->C3 Mapmaker 10-1B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["My, how lucky I am to have such a //dashing// warrior to protect me,"] she teases. You roll your eyes. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["How far are we going?"] (text-style:"bold")["You'll see."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Is this about that boy in Cramer Village again?"] (text-style:"bold")["Please, Willa. I'm long over him,"] she says. She tugs on Pasha's reins, leading you down the southern road towards the city gates. (text-style:"bold")["What took you so long today anyway?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Work,"] you say, your voice sharp. If things don't go sour, maybe later, you'll tell her the full truth. (text-style: "bold")["By the Sisters, it must be terrible. Sitting around, coloring all day--I couldn't imagine."] [[<m>"It's actually pretty hard, when you can't make mistakes."->C3 Mapmaker 10-2A]] [[<m>"You're right. I'd much rather be out on a survey in the northern plains, nothing but a thin canvas tent between me and the circling wolves."->C3 Mapmaker 10-2B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["I'm afraid it'll have to wait,"] she says. Her smile takes on a venomous gleam. (text-style: "bold")["You don't mind, do you?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["You're a horrid girl, Annie Renfry."] ["Speak for yourself, Willa Corbel,"] she says. She tugs on Pasha's reins, leading the both of you down the southern road towards the city gates. ["What took you so long, anyway?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Work,"] you say, your voice sharp. If things don't go sour, maybe later, you'll tell her the full truth. (text-style: "bold")["By the Sisters, it must be terrible. Sitting around, coloring all day--I couldn't imagine."] [[<m>"It's actually pretty hard, when you can't make mistakes."->C3 Mapmaker 10-2A]] [[<m>"You're right. I'd much rather be out on a survey in the northern plains, nothing but a thin canvas tent between me and the circling wolves."->C3 Mapmaker 10-2B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You turn to the wall where your (text-style: "bold")[saddle] hangs from hook. It's seen better days--the leather is cracking around the pommel, and threads in the seat jockey are coming unsewn. Beside it, Cyrus's old (text-style: "bold")[(text-colour:"#ffe5ea")[m](text-colour:"#ffc8b4")[o](text-colour:"fefbc4")[o](text-colour:"#alfd99")[n](text-colour:"#d2f9ff")[b](text-colour:"#bdcbee")[o](text-colour:"#f3e8f3")[w] axe] rests cockeyed in a back-sling, its opalescent blades gone cloudy with dust. He was supposed to take this with him on the Hunt--that was the whole reason he had it forged, saved ten months of earnings from his archivist work just to afford the spectral gloss on the metal. If he broke the Curse, he said, he'd be remembered as a hero, and he wanted to look every bit the part. But then he left it in Kordi's stall for you, no note, no acknowledgment, just the solemn, aching truth that he'd given up hope of changing the world. You ghost a hand over the carved handle, the feathery embossing that curls down the grip like falling leaves. You've since learned to wield it with ease--chopping firewood, clearing brush for camp when you travel with your father--and while you may not need it, today, [[<m>you feel an odd compulsion to take it with you.->C3 Mapmaker 10-1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["Hm. I suppose you have a point,"] she says with a huff. Your only response is [[<m>a victorious silence.->C3 Mapmaker 10-3]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["Well, that's just disgusting, Willa,"] she says. (text-style: "bold")["Next time, I'll thank the Tenth Sister for my job with a seamstress."] You give a nervous chuckle, if only because you can't remember for the life of you which Sister is the Tenth. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["But that doesn't bring you any trouble?"] you ask Annie. (text-style: "bold")["I prick my finger. Sometimes."] [[<m>"You poor thing. That's just //terrible.//"->C3 Mapmaker 10-3]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You turn to the wall where your (text-style: "bold")[saddle] hangs from hook. It's seen better days--the leather is cracking around the pommel, and threads in the seat jockey are coming unsewn. Beside it, Cyrus's old (text-style: "bold")[(text-colour:"#ffe5ea")[m](text-colour:"#ffc8b4")[o](text-colour:"fefbc4")[o](text-colour:"#alfd99")[n](text-colour:"#d2f9ff")[b](text-colour:"#bdcbee")[o](text-colour:"#f3e8f3")[w] axe] rests cockeyed in a back-sling, its opalescent blades gone cloudy with dust. He was supposed to take this with him on the Hunt--that was the whole reason he had it forged, saved ten months of earnings from his archivist work just to afford the spectral gloss on the metal. If he broke the Curse, he said, he'd be remembered as a hero, and he wanted to look every bit the part. But then he left it in Kordi's stall for you, no note, no acknowledgment, just the solemn, aching truth that he'd given up hope of changing the world. You ghost a hand over the carved handle, the feathery embossing that curls down the grip like falling leaves. You've since learned to wield it with ease--chopping firewood, clearing brush for camp when you travel with your father--and while you may not need it, today, [[<a>you feel an odd compulsion to take it with you.->C3 Apothecarist 10-1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You drape the back-sling over your shoulder and return, then saddle and climb onto Kordi. When you emerge from the barn, you find that Annie has already opened the paddock gate. She and Pasha wait outside, the reins roped twice around her hands. (text-style:"bold")["Are we off to chop some wood, little lumberjack?"] she asks. [[<a>"I know you're taking me through the forest, Annie. It's not wise to go unarmed."->C3 Apothecarist 10-1A]] [[<a>"Shush. Don't you have a story to tell me?"->C3 Apothecarist 10-1B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["My, how lucky I am to have such a //dashing// warrior to protect me,"] she teases. You roll your eyes. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["How far are we going?"] (text-style:"bold")["You'll see."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Is this about that boy in Cramer Village again?"] (text-style:"bold")["Please, Willa. I'm long over him,"] she says. She tugs on Pasha's reins, leading you down the southern road towards the city gates. (text-style:"bold")["What took you so long today anyway?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Work,"] you say, your voice sharp. If things don't go sour, maybe later, you'll tell her the full truth. (text-style: "bold")["By the Sisters, it must be terrible. Sitting around, sniffing herbs all day--I couldn't imagine."] [[<a>"It's actually pretty hard, when you can't make mistakes."->C3 Apothecarist 10-2A]] [[<a>"You're right. I'd much rather be running deliveries, letting some pox-ridden child cough all over me while I tell his mother what's in his medicine."->C3 Apothecarist 10-2B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["I'm afraid it'll have to wait,"] she says. Her smile takes on a venomous gleam. (text-style: "bold")["You don't mind, do you?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["You're a horrid girl, Annie Renfry."] (text-style: "bold")["Speak for yourself, Willa Corbel,"] she says. She tugs on Pasha's reins, leading the both of you down the southern road towards the city gates. (text-style: "bold")["What took you so long, anyway?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Work,"] you say, your voice sharp. If things don't go sour, maybe later, you'll tell her the full truth. (text-style: "bold")["By the Sisters, it must be terrible. Sitting around, sniffing herbs all day--I couldn't imagine."] [[<a>"It's actually pretty hard, when you can't make mistakes."->C3 Apothecarist 10-2A]] [[<a>"You're right. I'd much rather be running deliveries, letting some pox-ridden child cough all over me while I tell his mother what's in his medicine."->C3 Apothecarist 10-2B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["Hm. I suppose you have a point,"] she says with a huff. Your only response is [[<a>a victorious silence.->C3 Apothecarist 10-3]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["Well, that's just disgusting, Willa,"] she says. (text-style: "bold")["Next time, I'll thank the Tenth Sister for my job with a seamstress."] You chuckle to yourself because the Tenth Sister--Marantha, goddess of folly and pleasure--is hardly the one she should be thanking for good work. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["That doesn't bring you any trouble?"] you ask Annie, grinning. (text-style: "bold")["I prick my finger. Sometimes."] [[<a>"You poor thing. That's just //terrible.//"->C3 Apothecarist 10-3]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The city gates cast no shadow as you ride beneath them--from a flat, gray sky, light and snow fall in equal measure. Past the wall, the winding streets and close-knit townhomes ribbon away to short, half-sunken farmhouses, their snow-covered roofs invoking the look of broken teeth. When you spare a glance away from the road, you can see the firelight burgeoning within them; red and gold flicker across the windows, and at once, [[<a>you know where all the shadows have gone.->C3 Apothecarist 10-4]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The south country unrolls in shades of milk and amber, ending only where the forest reefs the horizon, a dark guard of branches consorting and fleeing as they gather up towards the sky. These have always been your father's lands, vast and ever-changing, countless secrets palmed in the valleys between knolls. You feel strange out here, invasive, like a needle striking fabric to be darned. Annie does not stop. She spurs Pasha again and again, with such vigor you fear the poor horse may bleed. Kordi edges on his tail, and though you jostle her reins, she cannot keep up. Soon, the country fades, and the forest stretches, writhes, dilates until it has pulled its shadowless canopy above your head. Noise erupts from every corner of the earth: cracking sticks, groaning trunks, the jagged calls of crows and ravens, flying like oil-black daggers from branch to branch. Still, Annie rides. [[<a>"Annie, where are we going?" you call.->C3 Apothecarist 10-5]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The city gates cast no shadow as you ride beneath them--from a flat, gray sky, light and snow fall in equal measure. Past the wall, the winding streets and close-knit townhomes ribbon away to short, half-sunken farmhouses, their snow-covered roofs invoking the look of broken teeth. When you spare a glance away from the road, you can see the firelight burgeoning within them; red and gold flicker across the windows, and at once, [[<m>you know where all the shadows have gone.->C3 Mapmaker 10-4]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The south country unrolls in shades of milk and amber, ending only where the forest reefs the horizon, a dark guard of branches consorting and fleeing as they gather up towards the sky. The sight has you aching for the summer months, when the world is green and warm and you can spend your nights lying prostrate in the grass, the dew riming your skin as you watch the stars march across the sky. Even so, you feel free here, the gray weight of the city lifted, and the strange events of the afternoon recede into the fog your of memory. The forest reaches higher, but Annie does not stop. She strikes Pasha again and again, with such vigor you fear the poor horse may bleed. Kordi edges on his tail, and though you jostle her reins, she cannot keep up. Soon, the country fades, and the forest stretches, writhes, dilates until it has pulled its shadowless canopy above your head. Noise erupts from every corner of the earth: cracking sticks, groaning trunks, the jagged calls of crows and ravens, flying like oil-black daggers from branch to branch. Still, Annie rides. Dread rises within you, cutting your bright, free feeling at its roots. [[<m>"Annie...are we going to the wall?"->C3 Mapmaker 10-5]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Annie wrangles Pasha to a stop--his gait stutters, his hooves throw a wet spray of mud. When Annie turns back to you, she's breathing heavy gasps, her face near as red as her hair. (text-style:"bold")["I thought we'd go to the wall."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Annie, are you out of your mind? There are guards everywhere."] (text-style:"bold")["Not in the middle of the woods, there won't be,"] she says. (text-style:"bold")["Besides, it's not like I'm going to jump over the edge, or anything. I //am// above blasphemy."] Your jaw feathers. She's trying to rile you. [[<a>"You don't know there won't be guards, Annie. They patrol the walls night and day."->C3 Apothecarist 10-5A]] [[<a>"Lead the way, then," you say. "I expect you can talk us out of any trouble."->C3 Apothecarist 10-5B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ ["A nice change of pace, isn't it?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["You can't just //go there//,"] you chide her. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["There are guards everywhere. My father and I have to tell them weeks in advance if we want to survey."] (text-style: "bold")["Not in the middle of the woods, there aren't."] [[<m>"You don't know that for sure. Wall guards patrol night and day."->C3 Mapmaker 10-5A]] [[<m>"Lead the way, then," you say. "I expect you can talk us out of any trouble."->C3 Mapmaker 10-5B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["Let me have a little faith, then."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Fine. Have your faith. But if we get dragged back to the capital, I'll be expecting you to take the blame,"] you say. (text-style: "bold")["You'll climb the wall with me then?"] [[<a>"I don't suppose I have a choice."->C3 Apothecarist 10-5A1]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["Of course I can. I've had plenty of practice,"] she says. She lets go of Pasha's reins to mime speaking to a customer, her pink lips forced in a pout. (text-style: "bold")["//'Yes Miss Cardenia, I'm so sorry, but we have to split the cuffs to keep the fit. Uh-huh, that'll be an extra silver for the labor, and three copper for the buttons. I know, I know, but I simply promise it will all be worth it. Really, you'll have the most enviable sleeves in all the Kingdom.'"//] Laughter warbles in your chest. [[<a>"Forgive my criticisms, then. I'm convinced."->C3 Apothecarist 10-5A1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["Let me have a little faith, then."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Fine. But if we get dragged back to the capital, I'm expecting you to take the blame,"] you say. (text-style: "bold")["You'll climb the wall with me then?"] [[<m>"I don't suppose I have a choice."->C3 Mapmaker 10-5A1]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["Of course I can. I've had plenty of practice,"] she says. She lets go of Pasha's reins to mime speaking to a customer, her pink lips forced in a pout. (text-style: "bold")["//'Yes Miss Cardenia, I'm so sorry, but we have to split the cuffs to keep the fit. Uh-huh, that'll be an extra silver for the labor, and three copper for the buttons. I know, I know, but I simply promise it will all be worth it. Really, you'll have the most enviable sleeves in all the Kingdom.'"//] Laughter warbles in your chest. [[<m>"Forgive my criticisms, then. I'm convinced."->C3 Mapmaker 10-5A1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You step into Annie's hands and brace yourself on her shoulder. The wall isn't terribly high, just enough to keep out wolves and bears, other creatures that slink along the Woodlands floor. With a boost from Annie, you find easy purchase on the edge, the brick cold and damp beneath your gloves. You shimmy until your elbows are flat and you can swing a leg atop the wall, then pull yourself up until you're standing. Here, the Kingdom ends, and the between begins, placing you mere seven narrow miles from the hard silver edge of the Curse. The archives are jammed with theories and fictions that expound on what could lie beyond it-barren plains of rock and sand, sharp-peaked hills cresting far above the clouds, lakes that take a hundred years to cross. But you have never imagined there could be anything other than more of the same, a world of dark trees and bloodred sunsets and cities made of stone the color of storms. Yet there is something about the Woodlands. An uncanniness. An unreality. You see birds everywhere, but they do not sing. (text-style:"bold")["Willa? Aren't you forgetting something?"] Annie calls, and at the sound of her voice, [[<a>the birds burst forth into the sky.->C3 Apothecarist 11-2A]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You trade places with Annie and hoist her onto the wall. When she holds her hands out to you, you grab them and walk up the side of the wall, your soles uneasy on the wet brick. You're lucky the wall isn't terribly high, just enough to keep out wolves and bears, other creatures that slink along the Woodlands floor. She swings an arm around your shoulder--which she never does, but you'll let her, for now--and you stare over the wall together. Here, the Kingdom ends, and the between begins, placing you mere five narrow miles from the hard silver edge of the Curse. The royal archives are jammed with theories and fictions that expound on what could lie beyond it-barren plains of rock and sand, sharp-peaked hills cresting far above the clouds, lakes that take a hundred years to cross. But you have never imagined there could be anything other than more of the same, a world of dark trees and bloodred sunsets and cities made of stone the color of storms. Yet there is something about the Woodlands. An uncanniness. An unreality. [[<a>You see birds everywhere, but they do not sing.->C3 Apothecarist 12B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The distance between you and the wall grows small enough that you can see it winking through the trees. Per the histories, the brick was once the soft beige of river sand, but the wall's iron chassis swiftly rusted through, giving it the bloodstained color you know now. When the trees bend apart and forest path empties into a pitch of rutted brown grass, you find the wall before you is empty and soldierless, quiet as ruins. Annie dismounts Pasha and slides a carrot from one of her coatpockets. She ropes him to a tree while he gnaws on the end of it, blissfully distracted. (text-style: "bold")["Don't worry, I brought one for Kordi, too,"] she says to you, laying a second carrot in your hand. (text-style: "bold")["I'm not a sadist."] You thank Annie and feed Kordi, delighting in the way her dark eyes sparkle, but feel no need to tether her. She would never leave you behind. You're sure of it. Annie crouches down beside the wall and makes a stepstool of her joined hands. (text-style: "bold")["Come on, Willa,"] she says. (text-style: "bold")["Up you go."] [[<a>"If you insist."->C3 Apothecarist 11-1A]] [[<a>"Oh, no. You first. This was your idea."->C3 Apothecarist 11-1B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Annie! I'm so sorry,"] you say, though your voice has a sudden fog to it, as if it's lost itself in your throat. You drop to your knees and hold your arms out to her. She grabs them at the wrist and walks up the side of the wall, her soles uneasy on the wet brick. When she's close enough, you snake an arm around her back and pull her all the way up, keeping her steady as she gains her footing. (text-style:"bold")["Ah, that was fun, wasn't it?"] she chirps, then turns to face the Woodlands. (text-style:"bold")["What a shame. All the birds flew away. My employer said you can see all sorts of wonderful birds out here."] [[<a>"I...think //you// scared them away, Annie."->C3 Apothecarist 12A]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Why do birds fly, you wonder?"] Annie asks, a dreamy lilt in her voice. It's a silly question, but you see it for what it is--she wants knowledge. She wants you to be your brother for a moment, rattling off the answer like you peeled it right from a book. And you could. You could tell her it's because birds have bones made of air, and skin made of silk, and feathers made of fine-spun glass, and if they could not fly, could not go where others cannot reach, the things that prowl the earth would shatter them. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["The same reason we can't,"] you tell Annie, instead. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["The Sisters made them that way."] (text-style: "bold")["How terribly simple,"] she mutters. [[<a>"Will you tell me your story, now?"->C3 Apothecarist 13]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["Do you know about my dreams, Willa?"] Annie asks, more to the trees than to you. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["No,"] you answer, anyway. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["But you used to have nightmares, right? Cyrus told me."] (text-style: "bold")["Cyrus told you everything about me, didn't he?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["If you gave him secrets, he would've kept them."] (text-style: "bold")["Of course he would,"] she says. (text-style: "bold")["Anyway, I've had horrible nightmares, ever since I came of age. There's this one I have all the time, where the Oracle herself is visiting me, telling me that I've be chosen for the Hunt, that I'll return as the monster, and my executioner will rip me apart to study what's become of me."] Guilt cuts you like a shard of broken glass. She does not know of your role in the Hunt, of the burden your mother trains you for. Neither did Cyrus. That was your secret, and now that he's gone, you regret never telling him. (text-style: "bold")["It's so awful, Willa,"] Annie continues, a pale, haunted look on her face. (text-style: "bold")["In some of them...in some, she even brings a sword against me then and there. Like she's looking for something inside me."] You swallow hard. Best not to tell Annie the Oracle was in your shop today. [[<a>"That's...awfully morbid, Annie."->C3 Apothecarist 14]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["But it's all over, now."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["How do you mean?"] (text-style: "bold")["I'll never be chosen for the Hunt,"] she says, and you want to scream //you don't know that, you never know that//, but you let her press on. (text-style: "bold")["I'm just like you, Willa. I have magic."] //Oh.// In that case, she could very well be right. [[<a>"Magic? Are you sure? But your family--"->C3 Apothecarist 14-1A]] [[<a>"Wait, hold on. How did you discover this? And when?"->C3 Apothecarist 14-1B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Annie flails her hands as she talks. (text-style: "bold")["I know! Not one of them has ever had so much as a flicker of it. But I have it, I swear--I can show you."] [[<a>"Not here, Annie. This isn't the place to try anything dangerous."->C3 Apothecarist 14-2A]] [[<a>"And what are you going to show me?"->C3 Apothecarist 14-1B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ Annie flails her hands as she speaks. (text-style: "bold")["It's like sunlight, or fire, right in my hands! At first, I thought it was a fluke, but then I did it //again!// Can you believe it? Here, I thought I was doomed to spend the rest of my days pushing needles and hunting a spouse if the Hunt didn't take me first, but Willa, I have a //power//."] You shake your head, though you can't fight a smile at her enthusiam. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Oh, Annie. You read too many romances. Magic isn't always power. Mine certainly isn't,"] you say, though the Oracle's words from earlier creep in, and for a flicker, you doubt your own. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["It's more like a tool. One that goes blunt, loses its shine. You have to pace yourself."] The light in Annie's eyes trembles, bright with determination. But there is something else there, too. Fear. Uncertainty. (text-style: "bold")["Just let me show you. Please. I want you to be proud of me."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Of course I'll be proud of you,"] you say. You take her hands, if only to keep her from pacing right off the wall. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Does this have something to do with your parents?"] (text-style: "bold")["You know how they are. They have these traditions, these ideas--"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["--that you're a witch?"] (text-style: "bold")["No. Maybe? Just that magic would make me different. Less desirable. Neither of them have it, nor any of my sisters. I don't think they'd be happy for me."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Well...I'll be happy for you, Annie,"] you say. [[<a>"Go on. Show me what you learned."->C3 Apothecarist 15]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Annie's grin slumps into a frown. (text-style: "bold")["Willa, that's //why// I brought you here,"] she says. (text-style: "bold")["I didn't want to see the birds, or the trees--I wanted to show you my power where no one else would see us. I'm afraid...I'm afraid if I tell my family, or they get wind of it somehow, they'll be ashamed of me, or think I was keeping it from them all these years. Lying to them."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Slow down, Annie. Magic isn't always power. Mine certainly isn't,"] you say, though the Oracle's words creep in, making you doubt your own. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["It's more like a tool. One that goes blunt, loses its shine. You have to pace yourself."] Annie looks at you like you've just struck her. (text-style: "bold")["Don't you care about how I'm feeling?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Of course I do. I just want you to be careful,"] you say. [[<a>"And...if you want, you can show me your magic. Just so long as you don't hurt yourself."->C3 Apothecarist 15]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Annie steps away from you and closes her eyes, her hands open and fingers crooked as if closed around a ball of yarn. A u-shaped wrinkle appears above her brow. You know this dance of strain and struggle, calling to a force that is there, but obstinate, yet unused to the will of another's voice. You're about to tell her it's alright if she can't, that you still believe her--then there in her hands, sure as the sun, a frizz of pinkish-yellow light appears, crawling across her fingers like soap bubbles. (text-style: "bold")["Hah! Look at that!"] Annie exclaims. (text-style: "bold")["I told you so!"] You say nothing. You are too busy studying, watching the matter between her hands vein and flicker, rope in thick bright coils around her wrists. This is not healing magic, not the pearl-pale flashes you use to enchant herbs and bones. [[<a>If you touch Annie's magic, you will burn.->C3 Apothecarist 15-1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You crouch over the edge of the wall, using your toes and the heels of your hands to keep from slipping. Annie lies sprawled in the thickening snow, her red coat spilled about her like a bloom of blood. Her breaths come shallow, her lips moving soundlessly until a curse rattles its way out of her throat. You sigh. Thank the Sisters, she's alive. But she's hurt, and badly, unmoving but for the frantic rise and fall of her chest. [[<a>Jump down there and heal her.->C3 Apothecarist 16-1A]] [[<a>Get her back to the top of the wall, then go find help.->C3 Apothecarist 16-1B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Steeling yourself, you dangle over the edge of the wall and drop to your feet. You half expect the unfamiliar earth to swallow you--but you find a firm landing and run to Annie's side. (text-style: "bold")["Willa...shit, I'm..."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Shh,"] you whisper. You feel her ribs through her coat, but there is too much fabric for you to tell if she has any breaks. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Just breathe."] Your hands settle on her sides. You don't have the power to heal broken bones--if you did, you'd have left your mother's apothecary long ago. But you can ease her pain. You close your eyes and call to your magic. It is a warm, quiet thing, spreading through your body like ice unfurling over the river. After a few uncertain moments, Annie's body eases under your touch. You want to relax, sink into the snow beside Annie and breathe out the last of your worry, but you still have to haul her up the wall. And when you open your eyes, [[<a>seven more are staring back.->C3 Apothecarist 17-A]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Steeling yourself, you dangle over the edge of the wall and drop to your feet. You half expect the unfamiliar earth to swallow you--but you find a firm landing and run to Annie's side. (text-style: "bold")["Willa...shit, I'm..."] You slide an arm beneath her shoulders and lift her to her knees. The motion dislodges a scream from her throat. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Easy, Annie. Just breathe,"] you say. You pad a hand down her side, but her coat is too thick for you to tell if anything is broken. (text-style: "bold")["Can you put an arm around me?"] She tries, but her arm goes limp. She sucks a gasp through her teeth. (text-style: "bold")["It hurts."] You can't get her up the wall without easing her pain. You return a hand to her ribs and call your magic--it is a warm, quiet thing, spreading through your body like ice unfurling over the river. After a few uncertain moments, Annie's body eases under your touch. (text-style: "bold")["Cyrus was right,"] she mutters. (text-style: "bold")["You're a treasure, Wil."] You wince at the mention of your blood-brother, the way his old nickname for you sounds so gentle in Annie's voice. You look away from her, unable to bear the fond, nostalgic smile on her lips, and when you do, [[<a>seven eyes are staring back at you.->C3 Apothecarist 17-B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Annie's little pyre grows, ribboning off into shards like flames, the heat of it enough to send her a step backwards. She needs a release. A target. She tries to crush it, but she only adds more pressure--she loses balance, her body tips headfirst towards the ground below. Braving the light, [[<a>you move to catch her...->C3 Apothecarist 15-2]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Annie's little pyre grows, ribboning off into shards like flames, the heat of it enough to send her a step backwards. She needs a release. A target. She tries to crush it, but she only adds more pressure--she loses balance, her body tips headfirst towards the ground below. Braving the light, you move to catch her... ...but you're too late. Annie tumbles over the edge, and [[<a>the magic in her hands wisps away into to smoke.->C3 Apothecarist 15-3]] ]

(font:"Garamond") + (text-style:"expand")[[[<a>"A N N I E!"->C3 Apothecarist 16]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Fear crackles through every nerve of your body. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour: "#95a5a6")[Four wolves] encroach on you, the closest--and largest--missing its left eye. Their mercurial fur shimmers with snow and fresh gore, but by the way they circle, black lips snarling around red-streaked teeth, you know their last prey did little to sate them. (text-style: "bold")["Willa? What's going on?"] Annie mutters. You rise, drawing the moonbow axe from its sling. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Just stay down."] The sight of your blade does little to deter the wolves. They push in closer, growling and pawing at the earth. Your hands tremble around the axe grip. [[<a>Wait for one to get close, then strike.->C3 Apothecarist 17-1A]] [[<a>Find another way.->C3 Apothecarist 17-1B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The one-eyed wolf makes the first lunge. You swing for it, but miss, the axe's shine within a hair of its snout. Still, the motion startles it--it cants backwards, resets its stance. Meanwhile, the others prowl behind you, sniffing, closing you off from the wall. You take another swing, slowly. A warning. With it, your bracelet rolls down your wrist, the charms knocking against the grip. Where Cyrus's beak hits the leather, light blooms, following the feather trail to where it ends--a deep sickle carve in the wood. A perfect fit. [[<a>You bring the axe into your left hand and strike the the beak through the notch.->C3 Apothecarist 18]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The one-eyed wolf lunges at you, and throw the axe up like a shield, swinging a miss within a hair of its snout. Still, the motion startles it--it cants backwards, resets its stance. Meanwhile, the other wolves prowl behind you, sniffing, closing you and Annie off from the wall. You turn the axe in your hands, and your bracelet rolls down your wrist, the charms knocking against the bottom of the grip. Where Cyrus's beak hits the leather, light blooms, following the feather trail to its end: a deep sickle carve in the wood. A perfect fit. (text-colour:"#e9b2df")[//Another way.//] [[<a>You bring the axe into your left hand and strike the the beak through the notch.->C3 Apothecarist 18]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Like a flint to iron, the (text-style: "bold") + (text-style:"expand")[(text-colour:"#ffe5ea")[m](text-colour:"#ffc8b4")[o](text-colour:"fefbc4")[o](text-colour:"#alfd99")[n](text-colour:"#d2f9ff")[b](text-colour:"#bdcbee")[o](text-colour:"#f3e8f3")[w] (text-colour:"#ffe5ea")[I] (text-colour:"#ffc8b4")[G] (text-colour:"fefbc4")[N] (text-colour:"#alfd99")[I] (text-colour:"#d2f9ff")[T] (text-colour:"#bdcbee")[E] (text-colour:"#f3e8f3")[S]] [[<a>...->C3 Apothecarist 18.5]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The wolves howl and scamper away, gold embers of magic clinging to their fur, burning the strands to the skin. They roll in the snow to douse themselves, their howls dimming to moans of relief as the tiny fires out go out. You watch their graceless retreat with a thundering heart, the rush of power in your veins waned to an ambient thrum. //Power.// It feels wrong, too heavy a word for the frothy warmth of healing, the fingerprick sensation of an enchantment gone well. But this was not healing, not some simple enchantment pulled from your mother's books. This was destruction. You lower the axe and pinch the beak between your fingers. [[<a>"Cyrus...what were you hiding?"->C3 Apothecarist 19.5]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Fear crackles through every nerve of your body. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour: "#95a5a6")[Four wolves] encroach on you, the closest--and largest--missing its left eye. Their mercurial fur shimmers with snow and fresh gore, but by the way they circle, black lips snarling around red-streaked teeth, you know their last prey did little to sate them. (text-style: "bold")["Willa? What do we do?"] Annie mutters. You let go of Annie and rise to your feet, drawing the moonbow axe from its sling. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Just stay down."] The sight of your blade does little to deter the wolves. They push in closer, growling and pawing at the earth. Your hands tremble around the axe grip. [[<a>Wait for one to get close, then strike.->C3 Apothecarist 17-1A]] [[<a>Find another way.->C3 Apothecarist 17-1B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold")["Don't take another step, heretic,"] says the guard, jabbing his lance forward. His voice is deep, forcefully so, but a boyish scratch to it belies his youth. He can't be any older than you and Annie. (text-style:"bold")["Only the Oracle's chosen may walk these Woodlands."] You remain frozen. Annie tenses, clutching your coat by its hood. [[<a>"You misunderstand. She slipped and fell, and I tried to save her--we'd never mean to go against the Sisters."->C3 Apothecarist 20-1A]] [[<a>"Please, she's injured--could you spare us a little compassion?"->C3 Apothecarist 20-1B]]]

[...and magic (text-style:"expand")[F L O O D S][[<a>...->C3 Apothecarist 19]]]

(font:"Garamond")[A groan echoes behind you. Annie is pitched forward, rising slowly from her elbows to her hands. She must've tried to stand up on her own. You fit the axe in its sling and return to her side, help her to her feet. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Are you alright?"] She nods. Her gaze is caught somewhere beyond you--on the wolves, crouched in the gray dark of the underbrush. (text-style: "bold")["What are they doing out there?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I think they're waiting for me to leave you."] (text-style: "bold")["Will you?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["No,"] you say, and a part of you is hurt she'd even ask. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Here. I'll throw my axe on top of the wall, and then you can climb on my back, alright?"] Annie gives you space, though she clutches her ribs with each ginger step. You turn and retrieve your axe, only to find a lone guard standing on the edge of the wall, his lance [[<a>aimed square between your eyes.->C3 Apothecarist 20]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You get Annie up the wall first--you reach the top to find a group of the guard-boy's squadmates assessing her, poking her sides and asking if it hurts. You have half a mind to scold them about their bedside manner, but then the guard-boy is practically in your face, his chin tipped downward and his lance crossed firm over his chest. For the first time, you get a good look at him. His eyes are more gold than brown, bare a few shades darker than his honey-wine skin. Brown hair curls around his ears, in loose bangs above his ample brows. He is trying so hard to intimidate you, but he is far too young and pretty to be intimidating. Then he softens, suddenly, and takes a step back. (text-style: "bold")["Is she going to be alright?"] he asks. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["She'll be fine. Why the change of heart?"] (text-style: "bold")["I'm a decent person,"] he says. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["You called me a heretic."] (text-style: "bold")["I thought you were one, until I realized you were just a little girl lost in the woods,"] he says. Your face twists in vexation. (text-style: "bold")["We aren't far from our outpost--I can summon a cart for your friend, if you want."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I'm a healer. I can take care of her from here."] (text-style: "bold")["Are you sure you're just a healer?"] His look tells you everything. He saw you. He knows about the axe. [[<a>"Who are you?"->C3 Apothecarist 22]] ]

[(text-style:"bold")["Then why were you near the wall?"] the guard questions. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["We got lost,"] you say, before Annie can interrupt. Adam once told you that a well-told lie can be a shield. (text-style:"bold")["It's true,"] Annie adds, near wailing as she buckles against you. (text-style:"bold")["Please, don't punish us. I just wanted to see the birds..."] You can't tell if the guard annoyed or moved by her theatrics--but he trades his weapon for a length of cold-hardened rope, and [[<a>you take it as an olive branch.->C3 Apothecarist 21]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Your plea is genuine, but the guard-boy mistakes it for insolence. (text-style: "bold")["Any civilians wishing to come within a mile of the wall must receive permission from the desk of General Isaias."] Annie buckles against you--her body trembles. (text-style: "bold")["We're so sorry,"] she wails. She turns sad eyes on the guard, tears spilling down her cheeks. (text-style: "bold")["Please, you have to help us, there are wolves and it's so cold...surely we don't deserve to die for this."] You can't tell if he's annoyed or moved by her theatrics--but he trades his weapon for a length of cold-hardened rope, and [[<a>you take it as an olive branch.->C3 Apothecarist 21]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["My name is Soren, I'm the Captain of Cadet Legion Four."] He nods to his squadmates, who now have Annie laughing--though it seems to be causing her a good deal of pain. (text-style: "bold")["Who are you?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Willa Corbel."] A flash of recognition lights his face. (text-style: "bold")["Like the Corbel brothers? The Solstice Hunters?"] he asks. (text-style: "bold")["Sisters Great, they're heroes."] [[<a>"Those...would be my brothers."->C3 Apothecarist 22-1A]] [[<a>"They're all dead, now. Are they really heroes?"->C3 Apothecarist 22-1B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["Wow. Your family must be the talk of the Sisters."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["They certainly have their eyes on us,"] you mutter, a bitter edge in your voice. Soren flinches, then scratches the back of his neck, as if his fingers might press down his rising blush. His eyes fall to his boots. (text-style: "bold")["I see I've crossed a line. I'm sorry."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["You've already threatened to kill me, Soren. I don't think there are any more lines to cross."] (text-style: "bold")["Then you'll forgive me?"] You make the mistake of meeting his eyes. His expression is too soft to be a soldier's, too full of light and blush and worry. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I...sure."] (text-style: "bold")["Willa! Are you ready to go?"] Annie exclaims, and you thank her silently for the excuse to look away from Soren. One of his squadmates--a tall, pale boy with a half-shaven head--is holding her steady. (text-style: "bold")["Darius here is going to get me back on my horse."] You start towards her, but Soren grabs you by the wrist, and you jolt at his touch. (text-style: "bold")["Are you sure you don't need any help?"] he asks you. [[<a>"No, thank you. But thanks for not killing me."->C3 Apothecarist 22-2A]] [[<a>"If by 'help' you mean carry me down the wall and lift me like a toddler into my saddle, I'll manage fine on my own."->C3 Apothecarist 22-2B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Soren flinches, then scratches the back of his neck, as if his fingers might press down his rising blush. His eyes fall to his boots. (text-style: "bold")["I see I've crossed a line. I'm sorry."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["It's fine. You didn't know they were my brothers."] (text-style: "bold")["Wait--they're truly your brothers?"] he exclaims. (text-style: "bold")["I've admired their tale for a while, now. Though, I'm ashamed to admit I never knew they had a sister."] You steel your voice against your rising anger, keeping it low and cold. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["You admire a tragedy?"] (text-style: "bold")["There's no wrong in that, is there? Tragedies give us hope for change."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Perhaps when they're someone else's, they do,"] you say, looking away. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["It's different when they're your own."] (text-style: "bold")["Then I hope you can forgive me."] You make the mistake of turning back to him. His expression is too soft to be a soldier's, too full of light and blush and worry. He wants to understand you, you realize, but only because you're a cog in some divine fate, some story greater than his own. [[<a>"I forgive you,"->C3 Apothecarist 22-1B-1]] you say, but the words are empty, weightless as fog in the sun. ]

(font:"Garamond")[Dark has fallen by the time you reach the city gates. Candles on windowsills and the hazy fires of streetlamps guide your way back to the stables, and then home. You worry more about Annie than any trouble you might run into with your mother. You've healed Annie enough to get her through the brief walk back to her townhouse, but you worry about her strict and hovering parents, if your healing was sufficient to conceal her injuries. You've promised to see a physician with her tomorrow, and if your mother hasn't found the coins, you'll use the Oracle's payment to [[<a>ease the last of her pain.->C3 Apothecarist 24]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The money is just where you left it, the powder order untouched and unmoved. After your mother goes to bed, you slip into the shop to finish the work, flitting about like a wren while you pain to keep bottles from clinking and ingredients from dropping to the floor. But when you lay the enchantment, something is different, as if the burst from the axe rebraided your nerves. If this is the power the Oracle speaks of, [[<a>you are not sure you are ready for it.->Chapter Four: The Solstice A]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Pray I don't make the same mistake again,"] he says. You shuck his hand from your arm. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I'm sure you've learned your lesson."] You join Annie on the other side of the wall, where Darius is lifting her onto her saddle. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Can you ride?"] you ask her, raising an eyebrow. (text-style: "bold")["I'll be fine. You healed me well,"] she says, though the strain in her voice betrays her. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Let me ride with you, at least,"] you offer. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Kordi will follow us."] To your relief, Annie agrees to your plan. As you ride away from the wall, Kordi cantering at your side, you let Annie chatter on about her magic and her seamstress work. It seems to ease her pain, and you listen fully, eager to think of anything other than Soren and your axe and [[<a>the seven little tragedies dangling off your wrist.->C3 Apothecarist 23]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold")["I wouldn't dream of it, Willa. Clearly you're not just some hapless damsel."] You shuck his hand from your arm. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Goodbye, Soren."] You walk away, finding Annie at the edge of the wall, her arms hugging her ribs. One of Soren's squadmates stands on the other side below, ready to catch her. (text-style: "bold")["Are you ready to go?"] she asks. (text-style: "bold")["Darius there is going to help me onto my horse."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Can you ride?"] (text-style: "bold")["I'll be fine. You healed me well,"] she says, though the strain in her voice betrays her. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Let me ride with you, at least,"] you offer, setting a hand on her shoulder. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Kordi will follow us."] To your relief, Annie agrees to your plan. You climb on the saddle behind her, and as you ride away from the wall, Kordi trotting at your side, you let Annie chatter on about her magic and her work. It seems to ease her pain, and you listen fully, eager to think of anything other than Soren and your axe and [[<a>the seven little tragedies dangling off your wrist.->C3 Apothecarist 23]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You walk away from Soren and find Annie at the edge of the wall. One of Soren's squadmates stands on the other side below, ready to catch her. (text-style: "bold")["Are you ready to go?"] she asks. (text-style: "bold")["Darius there is going to help me onto my horse."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Can you ride?"] (text-style: "bold")["I'll be fine. You healed me well,"] she says, though the strain in her voice betrays her. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Let me ride with you, at least,"] you offer. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Kordi will follow us."] To your relief, Annie agrees to your plan. You climb on the saddle behind her, and as you ride away from the wall, Kordi trotting at your side, you let Annie chatter on about her magic and her work. It seems to ease her pain, and you listen fully, eager to think of anything other than Soren and your axe and [[<a>the seven little tragedies dangling off your wrist.->C3 Apothecarist 23]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The distance between you and the wall grows small enough that you can see it winking through the trees. Per the histories, the brick was once the soft beige of river sand, but the wall's iron chassis swiftly rusted through, giving it the bloodstained color you know now. When the trees bend apart and forest path empties into a pitch of rutted brown grass, you find the wall before you is empty and soldierless, quiet as ruins. Annie dismounts Pasha and slides a carrot from one of her coatpockets. She ropes him to a tree while he gnaws on the end of it, blissfully distracted. (text-style: "bold")["Don't worry, I brought one for Kordi, too,"] she says to you, laying a second carrot in your hand. (text-style: "bold")["I'm not a sadist."] You thank Annie and feed Kordi, delighting in the way her dark eyes sparkle, but feel no need to tether her. She would never leave you behind. You're sure of it. Annie crouches down beside the wall and makes a stepstool of her joined hands. (text-style: "bold")["Come on, Willa,"] she says. (text-style: "bold")["Up you go."] [[<m>"If you insist."->C3 Mapmaker 11-1A]] [[<m>"Oh, no. You first. This was your idea."->C3 Mapmaker 11-1B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You step into Annie's hands and brace yourself on her shoulder. The wall isn't terribly high, just enough to keep out wolves and bears, other creatures that slink along the Woodlands floor. With a boost from Annie, you find easy purchase on the edge, the brick cold and damp beneath your gloves. You shimmy until your elbows are flat and you can swing a leg atop the wall, then pull yourself up until you're standing. Here, the Kingdom ends, and the between begins, placing you mere five narrow miles from the hard silver edge of the Curse. The archives are jammed with theories and fictions that expound on what could lie beyond it--barren plains of rock and sand, sharp-peaked hills cresting far above the clouds, lakes that take a hundred years to cross. You want so badly to believe in them, yet one glance into the Woodlands, all black branches and shriveled lichen, curdles your hopes. Your brothers died here. //Seven-hundred children// died here. You see birds everywhere, but they do not sing. (text-style:"bold")["Willa? Aren't you forgetting something?"] Annie calls, and at the sound of her voice, [[<m>the birds burst forth into the sky.->C3 Mapmaker 11-2A]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You trade places with Annie and hoist her onto the wall. When she holds her hands out to you, you grab them and walk up the side of the wall, your soles uneasy on the wet brick. You're lucky the wall isn't terribly high, just enough to keep out wolves and bears, other creatures that slink along the Woodlands floor. She swings an arm around your shoulder--which she never does, but you'll let her, for now--and you stare over the wall together. Here, the Kingdom ends, and the between begins, placing you mere five narrow miles from the hard silver edge of the Curse. The royal archives are jammed with theories and fictions that expound on what could lie beyond it-barren plains of rock and sand, sharp-peaked hills cresting far above the clouds, lakes that take a hundred years to cross. You want so badly to believe in them, yet one glance into the Woodlands, all black branches and shriveled lichen, curdles your hopes. Your brothers died here. //Seven-hundred children// died here. [[<m>You see birds everywhere, but they do not sing.->C3 Mapmaker 12B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Annie! Shit, I'm so sorry,"] you exclaim, though your voice has a sudden fog to it, as if it's lost itself in your throat. You drop to your knees and hold your arms out to her. She grabs them at the wrist and walks up the side of the wall, her soles uneasy on the wet brick. When she's close enough, you snake an arm around her back and pull her all the way up, keeping her steady as she gains her footing. (text-style:"bold")["Ah, that was fun, wasn't it?"] she chirps, then turns to face the Woodlands. (text-style:"bold")["What a shame. All the birds flew away. My employer said you can see all sorts of wonderful birds out here."] [[<m>"I think //you// scared them away, Annie."->C3 Mapmaker 12A]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Why do birds fly, you wonder?"] Annie asks, a dreamy lilt in her voice. It's a silly question, but you see it for what it is--she wants knowledge. She wants you to be your brother for a moment, rattling off the answer like you peeled it right from a book. And you could. You could tell her it's because birds have bones made of air, and skin made of silk, and feathers made of fine-spun glass, and if they could not fly, could not go where others cannot reach, the things that prowl the earth would shatter them. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["The same reason we can't,"] you tell Annie, instead. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["They need to fly. We don't."] (text-style: "bold")["How terribly simple,"] she mutters. [[<m>"Will you tell me your story, now?"->C3 Mapmaker 13]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Ah, that was fun, wasn't it?"] Annie chirps; at the sound of her voice, the birds burst forth into the sky. (text-style:"bold")["Boo. There they go."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Yes--because you just scared them all away."] Your jab doesn't bother her. (text-style:"bold")["Why do birds fly, you wonder?"] she asks, a dreamy lilt in her voice. It's a silly question, but you see it for what it is--she wants knowledge. She wants you to be your brother for a moment, rattling off the answer like you peeled it right from a book. And you could. You could tell her it's because birds have bones made of air, and skin made of silk, and feathers made of fine-spun glass, and if they could not fly, could not go where others cannot reach, the things that prowl the earth would shatter them. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["The same reason we can't,"] you tell Annie, instead. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["They need to fly. We don't."] (text-style: "bold")["How terribly simple,"] she mutters. [[<m>"Will you tell me your story, now?"->C3 Mapmaker 13]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["Do you know about my dreams, Willa?"] Annie asks, more to the trees than to you. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["No,"] you answer, anyway. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["But you used to have nightmares, right? Cyrus told me."] (text-style: "bold")["Cyrus told you everything about me, didn't he?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["If you gave him secrets, he would've kept them."] (text-style: "bold")["Of course he would,"] she says. (text-style: "bold")["Anyway, I've had horrible nightmares, ever since I came of age. There's this one I have all the time, where the Oracle herself is visiting me, telling me that I've be chosen for the Hunt, that I'll return as the monster, and my executioner will rip me apart to study what's become of me."] Guilt cuts you like a shard of broken glass. She does not know of your mother's dastardly role in the Hunt. Neither did Cyrus. That was your secret, and now that he's gone, you regret never telling him. (text-style: "bold")["It's so awful, Willa,"] Annie continues, a pale, haunted look on her face. (text-style: "bold")["In some of them...in some, she even brings a sword against me then and there. Like she's looking for something inside me."] You swallow hard. Best not to tell Annie the Oracle was in your shop today. [[<m>"That's...awfully morbid, Annie."->C3 Mapmaker 14]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Ah, that was fun, wasn't it?"] Annie chirps; at the sound of her voice, the birds burst forth into the sky. (text-style:"bold")["Boo. There they go."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Yes--because you just scared them all away."] Your jab doesn't bother her. (text-style:"bold")["Why do birds fly, you wonder?"] she asks, a dreamy lilt in her voice. It's a silly question, but you see it for what it is--she wants knowledge. She wants you to be your brother for a moment, rattling off the answer like you peeled it right from a book. And you could. You could tell her it's because birds have bones made of air, and skin made of silk, and feathers made of fine-spun glass, and if they could not fly, could not go where others cannot reach, the things that prowl the earth would shatter them. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["The same reason we can't,"] you tell Annie, instead. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["The Sisters made them that way."] (text-style: "bold")["How terribly simple,"] she mutters. [[<a>"Will you tell me your story, now?"->C3 Apothecarist 13]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["But it's all over, now."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["How do you mean?"] (text-style: "bold")["I'll never be chosen for the Hunt,"] she says, and you want to scream //you don't know that, you never know that//, but you let her press on. (text-style: "bold")["I have magic."] //Oh.// In that case, she could very well be right. [["Magic? Are you sure? But your family--"->C3 Mapmaker 14-1A]] [["Wait, hold on. How did you discover this? And when?"->C3 Mapmaker 14-1B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Annie flails her hands as she talks. (text-style: "bold")["I know! Not one of them has ever had so much as a flicker of it. But I have it, I swear--I can show you."] [[<m>"Not here, Annie. This isn't the place to try anything dangerous."->C3 Mapmaker 14-2A]] [[<m>"And what are you going to show me?"->C3 Mapmaker 14-1B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ Annie flails her hands as she speaks. (text-style: "bold")["It's like sunlight, or fire, right in my hands! At first, I thought it was a fluke, but then I did it //again!// Can you believe it? Here, I thought I was doomed to spend the rest of my days pushing needles and hunting a spouse if the Hunt didn't take me first, but Willa, I have a //power//."] You shake your head, though you can't fight a smile at her enthusiam. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Oh, Annie. You read too many romances. Magic isn't always power. Mine certainly isn't,"] you say, though the Oracle's words from earlier creep in, and for a flicker, you doubt your own. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["It's more like a tool. One that goes blunt, loses its shine. You have to pace yourself."] The light in Annie's eyes trembles, bright with determination. But there is something else there, too. Fear. Uncertainty. (text-style: "bold")["Just let me show you. Please. I want you to be proud of me."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Of course I'll be proud of you,"] you say. You take her hands, if only to keep her from pacing right off the wall. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Does this have something to do with your parents?"] (text-style: "bold")["You know how they are. They have these traditions, these ideas--"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["--that you're a witch?"] (text-style: "bold")["No. Maybe? Just that magic would make me different. Less desirable. Neither of them have it, nor any of my sisters. I don't think they'd be happy for me."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Well...I'll be happy for you, Annie,"] you say. [[<m>"Go on. Show me what you learned."->C3 Mapmaker 15]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Annie's grin slumps into a frown. (text-style: "bold")["Willa, that's //why// I brought you here,"] she says. (text-style: "bold")["I didn't want to see the birds, or the trees--I wanted to show you my power where no one else would see us. I'm afraid...I'm afraid if I tell my family, or they get wind of it somehow, they'll be ashamed of me, or think I was keeping it from them all these years. Lying to them."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Slow down, Annie. Having magic doesn't mean you have //power//,"] you say, though the Oracle's words creep in, making you doubt your own. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Especially when you don't know how to use it."] Annie looks at you like you've just struck her. (text-style: "bold")["Don't you care about how I'm feeling?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Of course I do. I just want you to be careful,"] you say. [["And...if you want, you can show me your magic. Just so long as you don't hurt yourself."->C3 Mapmaker 15]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Annie steps away from you and closes her eyes, her hands open and fingers crooked as if closed around a ball of yarn. A u-shaped wrinkle appears above her brow. You know this dance of strain and struggle, calling to a force that is there, but obstinate, yet unused to the will of another's voice. You're about to tell her it's alright if she can't, that you still believe her--then there in her hands, sure as the sun, a frizz of pinkish-yellow light appears, crawling across her fingers like soap bubbles. (text-style: "bold")["Hah! Look at that!"] Annie exclaims. (text-style: "bold")["I told you so!"] You say nothing. You are too busy studying, watching the matter between her hands vein and flicker, rope in thick bright coils around her wrists. This is not healing magic, not the pearl-pale flashes your mother uses in her work. [[<m>If you touch Annie's magic, you will burn.->C3 Mapmaker 15-1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Annie's little pyre grows, ribboning off into shards like flames, the heat of it enough to send her a step backwards. She needs a release. A target. She tries to crush it, but she only adds more pressure--she loses balance, her body tips headfirst towards the ground below. Braving the light, you move to catch her... ...but you're too late. Annie tumbles over the edge, and [[<m>the magic in her hands wisps away into to smoke.->C3 Mapmaker 15-3]] ]

(font:"Garamond") + (text-style:"expand")[[[<m>"A N N I E!"->C3 Mapmaker 16]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You crouch over the edge of the wall, using your toes and the heels of your hands to keep from slipping. Annie lies sprawled in the thickening snow, her red coat spilled about her like a bloom of blood. Her breaths come shallow, her lips moving soundlessly until a curse rattles its way out of her throat. You sigh. Thank the Sisters, she's alive. But she's hurt, and badly, unmoving but for the frantic rise and fall of her chest. [[<m>Jump down there and check her injuries.->C3 Mapmaker 16-1A]] [[<m>Run the wall to find help.->C3 Mapmaker 16-1B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Steeling yourself, you dangle over the edge of the wall and drop to your feet. You half expect the unfamiliar earth to swallow you--but you find a firm landing and run to Annie's side. (text-style: "bold")["Willa...shit, I'm..."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Don't talk,"] you say. Your feel her ribs through her coat, but there is too much fabric for you to tell if she has any breaks. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Just breathe."] Stubborn girl she is, she doesn't listen. (text-style: "bold")["Can you heal me? Cyrus said--"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["--I don't use my magic, Annie."] Tears run down her cheeks and into the snow. (text-style: "bold")["Could you try? Please?"] Your hands settle on her sides. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["It won't work,"] you mutter. But for her sake, [[<m>you hope for a miracle.->C3 Mapmaker 16-1A-1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I'm going to get help!"] you call to her, leaning over the wall. (text-style: "bold")["Willa, please..."] she strains, (text-style: "bold")["...don't leave."] You spare a moment to look down each side of the wall--if there are any soldiers about, they're below, out of sight. You could cry out for them, but getting the wall guards' attention could do more harm than good. (text-style: "bold")["Willa?"] You break. [[<m>You can't leave her defenseless.->C3 Mapmaker 16-1A]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Your mother taught you once, before you chose to follow your father, that the seed of a spell is a thought. Not a chant, a set of words to be pronounced with perfect intonation, but the image of an outcome, the process your magic must will into being. You close your eyes and think of Annie, upright on her saddle, the wind dragging through her curls. Annie shouting to you across the road, eager to show off a new dress she made. Annie, your only friend, who like the rest of your precious things, was handed down by your brothers. Warmth sparks in your chest, and [[<m>the seed becomes a bloom.->C3 Mapmaker 16-1A-2]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Fear crackles through every nerve of your body. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour: "#95a5a6")[Four wolves] encroach on you, the closest--and largest--missing its left eye. Their mercurial fur shimmers with snow and fresh gore, but by the way they circle, black lips snarling around red-streaked teeth, you know their last prey did little to sate them. You stand firm. Fight your fear. You're prepared for this. (text-style: "bold")["Willa? What's going on?"] Annie mutters. You rise, drawing the moonbow axe from its sling. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Just stay down."] The sight of your blade does little to deter the wolves. They push in closer, growling and pawing at the earth. Your hands tighten around the axe grip. [[<m>Wait for one to get close, then strike. Let them know they're the ones who should be cowering.->C3 Mapmaker 17-1A]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Your magic is a soft, quiet thing, spreading through your body like ice unfurling over the river. You worry it isn't strong enough to ease her pain, but after a few uncertain moments, Annie's body eases under your touch. (text-style: "bold")["Cyrus was right,"] she mutters. (text-style: "bold")["You're a treasure, Wil."] You want to relax, sink into the snow beside Annie and breathe out the last of your worry, but you still have to haul her up the wall. And when you open your eyes, [[<m>seven more are staring back.->C3 Mapmaker 17-A]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The one-eyed wolf makes the first lunge. You swing for it, but miss, the axe's shine within a hair of its snout. Still, the motion startles it--it cants backwards, resets its stance. Meanwhile, the others prowl behind you, sniffing, closing you off from the wall. You take another swing, slowly. A warning. With it, your bracelet rolls down your wrist, the charms knocking against the grip. Where Cyrus's beak hits the leather, light punches along the engravings, follows the feather trail to where it ends--a deep sickle carve in the wood. A perfect fit. [[<m>You bring the axe into your left hand and strike the the beak through the notch.->C3 Mapmaker 18]]]

(font:"Garamond")[On the eve of the Winter Solstice, the rest of the Kingdom pours forth into the city like a gush of sudden rain. They flow through the streets in flashes of fur caps and sun-sheened hair, scraps of conversations you catch as they pass by the shop windows. Come noonrise, every inn is full, every tavern and store with its doors blown open to the cold, inviting the fresh rush of coin. If you didn't know better, you'd think they were all just here to have fun. But tonight, when the sun slips beneath the horizon of the city wall, the Oracle will choose her next Hunters--and for the first time in all your years, [[<a>you don't have a brother left to lose.->C4 Apothecarist 2]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[On the eve of the Winter Solstice, the rest of the Kingdom pours forth into the city like a gush of sudden rain. They flow through the streets in flashes of fur caps and sun-sheened hair, scraps of conversations you catch as they pass beneath your window. Come noonrise, every inn is full, every tavern and store with its doors blown open to the cold, inviting the fresh rush of coin. If you didn't know better, you'd think they were all just here to have fun. But tonight, when the sun slips beneath the horizon of the city wall, the Oracle will choose her next Hunters--and for the first time in all your years, [[<m>you don't have a brother left to lose.->C4 Mapmaker 2]] ]

[...and magic (text-style:"expand")[F L O O D S][[<m>...->C3 Mapmaker 19]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The wolves howl and scamper away, gold embers of magic clinging to their fur, burning the strands to the skin. They roll in the snow to douse themselves, their howls dimming to moans of relief as the tiny fires out go out. You watch their graceless retreat with a thundering heart, the rush of power in your veins waned to an ambient thrum. //Power.// It feels wrong, too heavy a word for the frothy warmth of you felt while healing Annie. But this was not healing, not some simple enchantment pulled from your mother's old books. This was destruction. You lower the axe and pinch the beak between your fingers. [[<m>"Cyrus...what were you hiding?"->C3 Mapmaker 19.5]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[A groan echoes behind you. Annie is pitched forward, rising slowly from her elbows to her hands. She must've tried to stand up on her own. You fit the axe in its sling and return to her side, help her to her feet. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Are you alright?"] She nods. Her gaze is caught somewhere beyond you--on the wolves, crouched in the gray dark of the underbrush. (text-style: "bold")["What are they doing out there?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I think they're waiting for me to leave you."] (text-style: "bold")["Will you?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["No,"] you say, and a part of you is hurt she'd even ask. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Here. I'll throw my axe on top of the wall, and then you can climb on my back, alright?"] Annie gives you space, though she clutches her ribs with each ginger step. You turn and retrieve your axe, only to find a lone guard standing on the edge of the wall, his lance [[<m>aimed square between your eyes.->C3 Mapmaker 20]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold")["Don't take another step, heretic,"] says the guard, jabbing his lance forward. His voice is deep, forcefully so, but a boyish scratch to it belies his youth. He can't be any older than you and Annie. (text-style:"bold")["Only the Oracle's chosen may walk these Woodlands."] You remain frozen. Annie tenses, clutching your coat by its hood. (text-style:"bold")["Answer me!"] [[<m>"She slipped and fell off the wall, and I tried to save her--we weren't doing anything wrong."->C3 Mapmaker 20-1A]] [[<m>"Please, she's injured--could you spare us a little compassion?"->C3 Mapmaker 20-1B]]]

[(text-style:"bold")["You shouldn't have been on the wall in the first place,"] the guard barks. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["We got lost,"] you say, before Annie can interrupt. Adam once told you that a well-told lie can be a shield. (text-style:"bold")["It's true,"] Annie adds, near wailing as she buckles against you. (text-style:"bold")["Please, don't punish us. I just wanted to see the birds..."] You can't tell if the guard annoyed or moved by her theatrics--but he trades his weapon for a length of cold-hardened rope, and [[<m>you take it as an olive branch.->C3 Mapmaker 21]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Your plea is genuine, but the guard-boy mistakes it for insolence. (text-style: "bold")["Any civilians wishing to come within a mile of the wall must receive permission from the desk of General Isaias."] Annie buckles against you--her body trembles. (text-style: "bold")["We're so sorry,"] she wails. She turns sad eyes on the guard, tears spilling down her cheeks. (text-style: "bold")["Please, you have to help us, there are wolves and it's so cold...surely we don't deserve to die for this."] You can't tell if he's annoyed or moved by her theatrics--but he trades his weapon for a length of cold-hardened rope, and [[<m>you take it as an olive branch.->C3 Mapmaker 21]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You get Annie up the wall first--you reach the top to find a group of the guard-boy's squadmates assessing her, poking her sides and asking if it hurts. You have half a mind to scold them about their bedside manner, but then the guard-boy is practically in your face, his chin tipped downward and his lance crossed firm over his chest. For the first time, you get a good look at him. His eyes are more gold than brown, bare a few shades darker than his honey-wine skin. Brown hair curls around his ears, in loose bangs above his ample brows. He is trying so hard to intimidate you, but he is far too young and pretty to be intimidating. Then he softens, suddenly, and takes a step back. (text-style: "bold")["Is she going to be alright?"] he asks. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["She'll be fine. Why the change of heart?"] (text-style: "bold")["I'm a decent person,"] he says. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["You called me a heretic."] (text-style: "bold")["I thought you were one, until I realized you were just a little girl lost in the woods,"] he says. Your face twists in vexation. (text-style: "bold")["We aren't far from our outpost--I can summon a cart for your friend, if you want."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I'm a healer,"] you say, mostly to get this boy out of your hair. ["I can take care of her."] (text-style: "bold")["Are you sure you're just a healer?"] His look tells you everything. He saw you. He knows about the axe. [[<m>"Who are you?"->C3 Mapmaker 22]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["My name is Soren, I'm the Captain of Cadet Legion Four."] He nods to his squadmates, who now have Annie laughing--though it seems to be causing her a good deal of pain. (text-style: "bold")["Who are you?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Willa Corbel."] A flash of recognition lights his face. (text-style: "bold")["Like the Corbel brothers? The Solstice Hunters?"] he asks. (text-style: "bold")["Sisters Great, they're heroes."] [[<m>"Those...would be my brothers."->C3 Mapmaker 22-1A]] [[<m>"They're all dead, now. Are they really heroes?"->C3 Mapmaker 22-1B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["Wow. Your family must be the talk of the Sisters."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["They certainly have their eyes on us,"] you mutter, a bitter edge in your voice. Soren flinches, then scratches the back of his neck, as if his fingers might press down his rising blush. His eyes fall to his boots. (text-style: "bold")["I see I've crossed a line. I'm sorry."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["You've already threatened to kill me, Soren. I don't think there are any more lines to cross."] (text-style: "bold")["Then you'll forgive me?"] You make the mistake of meeting his eyes. His expression is too soft to be a soldier's, too full of light and blush and worry. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I don't know you. What good will my forgiveness do?"] (text-style: "bold")["Willa! Are you ready to go?"] Annie exclaims, and you thank her silently for the excuse to look away from Soren. One of his squadmates--a tall, pale boy with a half-shaven head--is holding her steady. (text-style: "bold")["Darius here is going to get me back on my horse."] You start towards her, but Soren grabs you by the wrist, and you jolt at his touch. (text-style: "bold")["Are you sure you don't need any help?"] he asks you. [[<m>"No, thank you. But thanks for not killing me."->C3 Mapmaker 22-2A]] [[<m>"If by 'help' you mean carry me down the wall and lift me like a toddler into my saddle, I'll manage fine on my own."->C3 Mapmaker 22-2B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Soren flinches, then scratches the back of his neck, as if his fingers might press down his rising blush. His eyes fall to his boots. (text-style: "bold")["I see I've crossed a line. I'm sorry."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["It's fine. You didn't know they were my brothers."] (text-style: "bold")["Wait--they're truly your brothers?"] he exclaims. (text-style: "bold")["I've admired their tale for a while, now. Though, I'm ashamed to admit I never knew they had a sister."] You steel your voice against your rising anger, keeping it low and cold. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["You admire a tragedy?"] (text-style: "bold")["There's no wrong in that, is there? Tragedies give us hope for change."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Perhaps when they're someone else's, they do,"] you say, looking away. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["It's different when they're your own."] (text-style: "bold")["Then I hope you can forgive me."] You make the mistake of turning back to him. His expression is too soft to be a soldier's, too full of light and blush and worry. He wants to understand you, you realize, but only because you're a cog in some divine fate, some story greater than his own. [[<m>"I don't know you" you say. "What good will my forgiveness do?"->C3 Mapmaker 22-1B-1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Pray I don't make the same mistake again,"] he says. You shuck his hand from your arm. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I'm sure you've learned your lesson."] You join Annie on the other side of the wall, where Darius is lifting her onto her saddle. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Can you ride?"] you ask her, raising an eyebrow. (text-style: "bold")["I'll be fine. You healed me well,"] she says, though the strain in her voice betrays her. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Let me ride with you, at least,"] you offer. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Kordi will follow us."] To your relief, Annie agrees to your plan. As you ride away from the wall, Kordi cantering at your side, you let Annie chatter on about her magic and her seamstress work. It seems to ease her pain, and you listen fully, eager to think of anything other than Soren and your axe and [[<m>the seven little tragedies dangling off your wrist.->C3 Mapmaker 23]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold")["I wouldn't dream of it, Willa. Clearly you're not just some hapless damsel."] You shuck his hand from your arm. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Goodbye, Soren."] You walk away, finding Annie at the edge of the wall, her arms hugging her ribs. One of Soren's squadmates stands on the other side below, arms poised to catch her. (text-style: "bold")["Are you ready to go?"] she asks. (text-style: "bold")["Darius there is going to help me onto my horse."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Can you ride?"] (text-style: "bold")["I'll be fine. You healed me well,"] she says, though the strain in her voice betrays her. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Let me ride with you, at least,"] you offer, setting a hand on her shoulder. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Kordi will follow us."] To your relief, Annie agrees to your plan. You climb on the saddle behind her, and as you ride away from the wall, Kordi trotting at your side, you let Annie chatter on about her magic and her work. It seems to ease her pain, and you listen fully, eager to think of anything other than Soren and your axe and [[<m>the seven little tragedies dangling off your wrist.->C3 Mapmaker 23]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You walk away from Soren and find Annie at the edge of the wall. One of Soren's squadmates stands on the other side below, arms poised to catch her. (text-style: "bold")["Are you ready to go?"] she asks. (text-style: "bold")["Darius there is going to help me onto my horse."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Can you ride?"] (text-style: "bold")["I'll be fine. You healed me well,"] she says, though the strain in her voice betrays her. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Let me ride with you, at least,"] you offer. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Kordi will follow us."] To your relief, Annie agrees to your plan. You climb on the saddle behind her, and as you ride away from the wall, Kordi trotting at your side, you let Annie chatter on about her magic and her work. It seems to ease her pain, and you listen fully, eager to think of anything other than Soren and your axe and [[<m>the seven little tragedies dangling off your wrist.->C3 Mapmaker 23]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Dark has fallen by the time you reach the city gates. Candles on windowsills and the hazy fires of streetlamps guide your way back to the stables, and then home. You worry more about Annie than any trouble you might run into with your father. You've healed Annie enough to get her through the brief walk back to her townhouse, but you worry about her strict and hovering parents, if your healing was sufficient to conceal her injuries. You've promised to see a physician with her tomorrow, and if your mother hasn't found the coins, you'll use the Oracle's payment to [[<m>help her keep the secret.->C3 Mapmaker 24]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[And yet it is so much like the year you lost Tristan. The world is stiff with ice, the sun mirthless and distant in a clear blue sky--you spend the day with one foot in a memory, the other in the horrible ache of missing. Your parents work away their grief. While your father cloisters himself in his study, your mother busies herself with the flush of new customers in the apothecary, slapping order after order on the counter for you to fill. You try to mimic her, to find distraction in the ebb and flow of a busy day, but it is so hard to spend a Solstice without Cyrus at your side, repeating the same old stories and making you laugh despite the pain. The bells (text-style:"fade-in-out")[chime] four before you know it. You and your mother close up shop, then quickly clean and prepare the workroom for your return tonight. The street outside grows quiet--but the noise has only moved downwind, the faint echoes of music and merriment still audible, [[<a>still indifferent to the tragedies to come.->C4 Apothecarist 3]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You promised to meet Annie when your family arrived at the Square for the Solstice Festival--you've been seeing her every day since the wall incident, helping her train her magic and firming your skills with the moonbow axe. //Just in case,// you tell yourself, though you know the weapon Cyrus left you is not an heirloom, but a mission. Annie waits for you with an arm curled around the rust-chapped pole of a lamppost. She's missing her usual red coat, and instead wears a green cloak fastened with a brooch shaped like a fig tree, little red-jewel fruits winking out of the metal. She waves to you, and you give your mother a nudge in the side. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["There's Annie. Can I go now?"] (text-style: "bold")["You're spending an awful lot of time with her, lately,"] your mother remarks. (text-style: "bold")["Can't you spare us a few minutes? Your father wants to get some cider."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I've been with you all day."] (text-style: "bold")["Willa, please,"] she whispers through grit teeth. (text-style: "bold")["You know what day it is."] Your body goes cold, as if the chill in the air has broken through the seams of your coat. Does she think you've forgotten? That it doesn't ache you as much to lose your brothers as it aches her to lose her sons? [[<a>"At least let me tell her where I'm going. You know how sensitive she gets."->C4 Apothecarist 4-P]] [[<a>"I promise I'll find you again before the Divining. Just...let me have a little space."->C4 Apothecarist 4-A]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["I'll go with you, then,"] your mother insists. (text-style:"bold")["The Renfries are longtime customers of ours, you know."] There's no use arguing with her. You go to meet Annie together, her with one protective hand on your shoulder. (text-style:"bold")["Hi there, Mrs. Corbel! Willa tells me things are going great at the shop,"] Annie exclaims, cheery as ever. Her cheeks are pink, more so than the cold colors them, and you wonder if she hasn't already had a bit of festival wine with her parents. (text-style:"bold")["Mm. It's been good business,"] your mother says, her tone cool. (text-style:"bold")["I understand you planned on dragging my daughter around the festival all night?"] (text-style:"bold")["Not all night, no. That'd be cruel,"] says Annie. (text-style:"bold")["She'll be back with you before the Divining--I swear it. Maybe earlier."] (text-style:"bold")["And just what will you be doing?"] You fight the urge to smack your palm against your forehead. Being protective--being sensitive--is reasonable, but now she's acting like you're some pet to be kept on a leash. ["I thought I'd walk Willa to the fountain,"] she said. ["We can do our prayers at the altar there. Presence of the Sisters, and all."] Annie's lying. You know it, and she'll expect ample thanks later for all the trouble. ["Very well then,"] says your mother. [If you want, you can go."] [[<a>You thank her,->C4 Apothecarist 4-P-1]] if a bit too profusely, and your father calls her back before she can change her mind.]

(font:"Garamond")[Your mother tugs on your father's coatsleeve. (text-colour:"#e9b2df")[//Don't bring him into this,//] you want to say, but you bite your tongue. (text-style:"bold")["Jon, Willa wants to run off with her friend, again."] (text-style:"bold")["That's fine,"] he says, directly to you. He's throwing you a line, trying to say, //I'm still on your side.// Either that, or he just wants to circumvent your mother. Your mother sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. (text-style:"bold")["Just don't be gone too long, alright?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I won't,"] you say, and [[<a>you give her arm a squeeze->C4 Apothecarist 4-A-1]] before you go. ]

(font:"Garamond")[And yet it is so much like the year you lost Tristan. The world is stiff with ice, the sun mirthless and distant in a clear blue sky--you spend the day with one foot in a memory, the other in the horrible ache of missing. Your parents work away their grief. While your mother busies herself in the shop, your father sets about copying a high stack of pocket maps. You try to mimic him, to find distraction in the precision of your strokes, but it is so hard to spend a Solstice without Cyrus at your side, repeating the same old stories and making you laugh despite the pain. The bells (text-style:"fade-in-out")[chime] four before you know it. You and your mother close up shop, then quickly clean and prepare the workroom for your return tonight. The street outside grows quiet--but the noise has only moved downwind, the faint echoes of music and merriment still audible, [[<m>still indifferent to the tragedies to come.->C4 Mapmaker 3]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You promised to meet Annie when your family arrived at the Square for the Solstice Festival--you've been seeing her every day since the wall incident, firming your skills with the moonbow axe while she trains her magic. She insists it's stronger when you're around, but you know she just likes a chance to show off. She waits for you with an arm curled around the rust-chapped pole of a lamppost. She's missing her usual red coat, and instead wears a green cloak fastened with a brooch shaped like a fig tree, little red-jewel fruits winking out of the metal. When she waves to you, you give your father a nudge in the side. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["There's Annie. Can I go now?"] (text-style: "bold")["You're spending an awful lot of time with her, lately,"] your mother answers for him. Your brow furrows. (text-style: "bold")["Can't you spare us a few minutes?"] (text-style: "bold")["Roma, it's fine. She's been home all day,"] your father says. (text-style: "bold")["You know what day it is, Jon. She should be with us."] Your body goes cold, as if the chill in the air has broken through the seams of your coat. Does she think you've forgotten? Does she think it doesn't ache you as much to lose your brothers as it aches her to lose her sons? [[<m>"At least let me tell her where I'm going. You know how sensitive she gets."->C4 Mapmaker 4-P]] [[<m>"I promise I'll find you again before the Divining. Just...let me have a little space."->C4 Mapmaker 4-A]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["I'll go with you, then,"] your mother insists. (text-style:"bold")["The Renfries are longtime customers of mine, you know."] There's no use arguing with her. You go to meet Annie together, her with one protective hand on your shoulder. (text-style:"bold")["Hi there, Mrs. Corbel! Willa tells me things are going great at the shop,"] Annie exclaims, cheery as ever. Her cheeks are pink, more so than the cold colors them, and you wonder if she hasn't already had a bit of festival wine with her parents. (text-style:"bold")["Mm. It's been good business,"] your mother says, her tone cool. (text-style:"bold")["I understand you planned on dragging my daughter around the festival all night?"] (text-style:"bold")["Not all night, no. That'd be cruel,"] says Annie. (text-style:"bold")["She'll be back with you before the Divining--I swear it. Maybe earlier."] (text-style:"bold")["And just what will you be doing?"] You fight the urge to smack your palm against your forehead. Being protective--being sensitive--is reasonable, but now she's acting like you're some pet to be kept on a leash. (text-colour:"#ccffd4")[//Would my whole life have been this way if I'd chosen her path?//] (text-style:"bold")["I thought I'd walk Willa to the fountain,"] Annie says, continuing to coddle your mother. (text-style:"bold")["We can do our prayers at the altar there. Presence of the Sisters, and all."] Annie's lying. You know it, and she'll expect ample thanks later for all the trouble. (text-style:"bold")["Very well then,"] your mother tells you. (text-style:"bold")["If you want, you can go."] [[<m>You thank her,->C4 Mapmaker 4-P-1]] and your father calls her back before she can change her mind.]

(font:"Garamond")[ ["She's right,"] your father adds. ["We can't treat her like she's a little girl, anymore."] (text-style:"bold")["And how do you treat her when you're gone for months at a time? Let her wander off by herself? Make her fetch your provisions while you bury yourself in whatever book you've packed?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Mother, please. It's not so serious."] (text-style: "bold")["No, no. I'd like an answer."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Can't I just go? I really don't want to listen to you two argue."] Your mother sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. (text-style:"bold")["Just don't be gone too long, alright?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I won't,"] you say, and you give her arm a squeeze before you go. [[<m>It is the first time you've touched her in months.->C4 Mapmaker 4-A-1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Annie greets you with a tight embrace. She smells heavily of perfume, something with rose and musk and warm honey notes. (text-style: "bold")["Here I was, thinking your mother was going to hold you captive,"] she says as she pulls away. Her cheeks are pink, more so than the cold colors them, and you wonder if she hasn't already had a bit of festival wine with her parents. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["So was I,"] you confess. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Where are we going?"] (text-style: "bold")["To dance,"] she says, flashing a bright, crescent moon of a smile. (text-style: "bold")["There's a big group around the fountain."] [[<a>"That sounds...fun, actually."->C4 Apothecarist 4-A-1A]] [[<a>"Are you trying to embarrass me?"->C4 Apothecarist 4-A-1B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Annie grabs your hand and leads you off the side of the street, into the bustling Square. The air smells of cinnamon and fried dough and citrus--scents that would on any other day be pleasant, but have since become cloying to you. (text-style: "bold")["You seem nervous,"] she says. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I'm not nervous."] You are melancholy. Angry. Conflicted. But not nervous. (text-style: "bold")["Good. I saw a bunch of guard cadets headed that way, you know."] You force lightness into your voice. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Is //Darius// going to be there?"] (text-style: "bold")["Oh, I'm not interested in him,"] she says. She leans in to whisper, but she nearly has to shout to be heard over the growing din of celebration. (text-style: "bold")["But that Captain you were talking to..."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Soren tried to kill us, Annie."] (text-style: "bold")["So? He has pretty eyes."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["And when were you staring into his eyes, again?"] Annie shrugs. (text-style: "bold")["I saw what I needed to."] You roll your eyes. [[<a>She can have him.->C4 Apothecarist 5]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud,"] she says. (text-style:"bold")["You forget are other things to do in life than read apothecary books and swing an axe around."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I know, I'm a terrible bore,"] you respond, though the mere mention of your axe has you fiddling with the beak on your bracelet. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Why do you even spend time with me?"] (text-style: "bold")["Because I like you,"] she says, grabbing your hand. (text-style: "bold")["Come on, this way."] You have no choice but to follow her--but even if you did, [[you think you would've, anyway.->C4 Apothecarist 4-A-1C]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[While not yet full, the Square is bustling, alive with music and conversation and cheeky drinking rhymes. The air smells of cinnamon and fried pastry dough--scents that would on any other day be pleasant, but have become cloying to you. Annie can tell you're getting lost in your thoughts. She squeezes your hand and pulls you deeper into the crowd. (text-style: "bold")["I saw a handful of guard cadets headed this way, you know,"] she says. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Is //Darius// going to be there?"] you tease. (text-style: "bold")["Oh, I'm not interested in him,"] she says. She leans in to whisper, but she nearly has to shout to be heard over the growing din of celebration. (text-style: "bold")["But that Captain you were talking to..."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Soren tried to kill us, Annie."] (text-style: "bold")["So? He has pretty eyes."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["And when were you staring into his eyes, again?"] Annie shrugs. (text-style: "bold")["I saw what I needed to."] You roll your eyes. [[<a>She can have him.->C4 Apothecarist 5]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The fountain at the center of Aever Square is known as the Spire--it bears the marble forms of the Twelve Sisters, clambering over each other to reach the heavens. In the warmer months, water flows from their hands, but now, the fountain is no more than a carved white altar, its shallow bottom pool heaped full of offerings and scribbled prayers. A lake of color undulates around the Spire--teenagers clad in shiny cloaks and dresses, coats with fresh polished buttons, bright wool scarves that trail out the backs of their coats like wings. They are neighbors and old classmates, strangers and almost-friends. [[<a>They are your future, and you will dance with them.->C4 Apothecarist 6]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[If Annie ever finds Soren, you don't know. You trade partners what feels like every few seconds--each arm that loops through yours lets go just as swiftly. One belongs to Darius, and though he recognizes you, you exchange little more than winded hellos before he flings you towards the next dancing body, a girl in red with purple ribbons in her hair. She spins you into dizziness, and you stumble to the edge of the fountain to catch your breath. There, you see him. Soft curls. A teasing smile. Dark, dark eyes, made of the same mirror-black shadows as your own. [[<a>//"Cyrus?"//->C4 Apothecarist 7]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Once your mother is gone, Annie wraps you in a tight embrace. She smells heavily of perfume, something with rose and musk and warm honey notes. (text-style: "bold")["Here I was, thinking your mother was going to hold you captive,"] she says as she pulls away. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["So was I,"] you confess. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Where are we going?"] (text-style: "bold")["To dance,"] she says, flashing a bright, crescent moon of a smile. (text-style: "bold")["There's a big group up near the fountain."] [[<a>"That sounds...fun, actually."->C4 Apothecarist 4-A-1A]] [[<a>"Are you trying to embarrass me?"->C4 Apothecarist 4-A-1B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The world twists at its spine--everything blurs but you and your brother, this wretched ghost of him smiling at you like nothing has changed, like this isn't the anniversary of his death sentence, and you aren't staring down the tunnel of a life without him. A life without all of them. You mouth his name, sign it with your hands, but he doesn't respond. Doesn't blink. Bodies whirl, eclipsing him. You pitch yourself forward, only for a boy to swing his partner into your side and knock you to the cobblestone. (text-style:"bold")["Hey, are you alright?"] a voice asks. A boy's. Familiar, [[<a>but you can't grasp it.->C4 Apothecarist 7-1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The world twists at its spine--everything blurs but you and your brother, this wretched ghost of him smiling at you like nothing has changed, like this isn't the anniversary of his death sentence, and you aren't staring down the tunnel of a life without him. A life without all of them. You mouth his name, sign it with your hands, but he doesn't respond. Doesn't blink. Bodies whirl, eclipsing him. You pitch yourself forward, only for a boy to swing his partner into your side and knock you to the cobblestone (text-style:"bold")["Hey, are you alright?"] a voice asks. A boy's. Familiar, but you can't grasp it. (text-style:"fade-in-out")[CHIME.] [[<a>The bells are tolling five.->C4 Apothecarist 7-2]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The world twists at its spine--everything blurs but you and your brother, this wretched ghost of him smiling at you like nothing has changed, like this isn't the anniversary of his death sentence, and you aren't staring down the tunnel of a life without him. A life without all of them. You mouth his name, sign it with your hands, but he doesn't respond. Doesn't blink. Bodies whirl, eclipsing him. You pitch yourself forward, only for a boy to swing his partner into your side and knock you to the cobblestone. (text-style:"bold")["Hey, are you alright?"] a voice asks. A boy's. Familiar, but you can't grasp it. (text-style:"fade-in-out")[CHIME.] The bells are tolling five. (text-style:"fade-in-out")[CHIME.] [[<a>The sun is setting beneath the ramparts.->C4 Apothecarist 7-3]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The world twists at its spine--everything blurs but you and your brother, this wretched ghost of him smiling at you like nothing has changed, like this isn't the anniversary of his death sentence, and you aren't staring down the tunnel of a life without him. A life without all of them. You mouth his name, sign it with your hands, but he doesn't respond. Doesn't blink. Bodies whirl, eclipsing him. You pitch yourself forward, only for a boy to swing his partner into your side and knock you to the cobblestone (text-style:"bold")["Hey, are you alright?"] a voice asks. A boy's. Familiar, but you can't grasp it. (text-style:"fade-in-out")[CHIME.] The bells are tolling five. (text-style:"fade-in-out")[CHIME.] The sun is setting beneath the ramparts. (text-style:"fade-in-out")[CHIME.] [[<a>The Oracle is coming, walking up her dais, and she knows who is next to die.->C4 Apothecarist 7-4]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"expand")[[[<a>//"Willa, go!"//->C4 Apothecarist 7-5]]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[This is Annie's voice. You catch a curl of her perfume as she helps you to your feet. (text-style:"fade-in-out")[CHIME.] You run. Your parents sit where they do every Solstice, at the head of the closest long table to the Oracle's dais. You can see her, a blazing candle of a woman, lifting her hands into the air. (text-style:"fade-in-out")[CHIME.] You fall down beside your mother, taking the last seat on the edge of the bench, and she locks an arm around you, pulls you close and kisses your head. "Have you been praying?" [[<a>You have. Always, you've been praying. But in seeing your brother's ghost, you fear what those prayers may have sown.->C4 Apothecarist 8]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["People of Aeverdam,"] the Oracle calls. The Square is shaped just so to carry her voice. (text-style: "bold")["The Twelve Sisters have yet again blessed us with a plentiful harvest, and as we come together to celebrate this great reaping, we must yet give our thanks to Julianna, Our Fourth Sister of the Frost, for the dawn of another winter."] A few cheers ring out, but you and your parents remain silent. (text-style: "bold")["To many, winter is a time of death. The trees shrivel, the long-browned leaves lose their mooring, the creatures of the earth turn harsh and hungry. But in this dark, cold season, one that tests our wits as much as our bodies, the Sisters offer hope.] (text-style: "bold")["Kynthia, Our First Sister of Light, has bestowed upon me the names of this year's heroes, who will so boldly continue our quest to vanquish the Curse upon our realm. If I may have silence, and the closing of eyes in Our Sister's reverence, I will call our Chosen heroes to my side." ] You brace yourself, though you don't know why. It cannot be you, and it cannot be Annie, and you're not sure you care enough about anyone else your age to worry for them. The Oracle pauses. Moves her hands, drawing slabs of rose-gold sun into the spaces between them. [[<a>"Our first Hunter is...Soren Isaias!"->C4 Apothecarist 8-1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-colour:"#e9b2df")[//Soren?//] you think. (text-colour:"#e9b2df")[//That Soren?//] You crane for a glimpse of him, hoisting your knees onto the bench to peer over the standing front of the crowd. It's that Soren, alright. His brown hair is gelled and smoothed off his face, his guard's-lance traded for a short silver rapier at his hip. He walks with an infuriating measure of pride, and when he bows before the Oracle, his squadmates drum up a cheer so loud their voices rattle in the deep of your bones. (text-style: "bold")["And our second Hunter, by Kynthia's will..."] the Oracle starts, then pauses. The Kingdom holds its breath. Your mother holds you. You meet eyes with your father, who is moving his lips, soundlessly, but you cannot make out the words. [[<a>"...is Willa Corbel."->C4 Apothecarist 8-2]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[No. No, this can't be. You have magic. The Oracle never chooses mages. You are scarce. Vital. Sacred. Yet you're almost...happy? You'll be with Cyrus again. And Tristan. And Siegfried. All seven of your brothers. You rise from the bench to a choir of silence. Another Corbel, another tragedy. You head straight for the dais, and you do not glance back at your parents. [[<a>If you look at them, you will shatter.->C4 Apothecarist 8-3]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Your applause, like Soren's, comes as you bow. With it, there is sobbing. Bizarre calls of, //"Sisters bless the Corbels!"// Caustic taunts: //"Another child who won't save us."// //"What a useless family."// This must be the burden your brothers felt as their knees hit the dais, as the Oracle laid the Hunters' wreath of holly and pine upon their brows. As they took up a fate of a world that cannot be saved. Is this why you saw Cyrus's ghost? And was it a warning--or a welcome? (text-style:"bold")["Blessed people, behold--your new Solstice Hunters!"] The Kingdom's cries are fervent, their applause like the cracking of bones, sickening in its timbre. The Hunters' wreath falls upon your head, and it is a wonder the weight does not topple you. Something moves in your periphery. It is Soren, newly crowned and newly somber. He holds out his hand to you, baring the worn leather palm of his glove. [[<a>Take his hand.->C4 Apothecarist 9A]] [[<a>Turn away.->C4 Apothecarist 9B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You lay your hand in his, and he squeezes your fingers, a tiny reassurance. The tenderness of it startles you. You shake it off. What a foolish boy he is, wanting to be friends the day before you both are going to die. Yet you do not let go. To let go feels a cruelty, and there is enough of that, tonight. The Oracle bids you rise. You half expect Soren to lift your joined hands, to proclaim a victory that can't be won, if only to soothe a weary Kingdom. But they do not look weary. The people whoop and cheer, chanting your names, wholehearted in their belief that you will be the ones to save them. You find yourself adrift in their tear-rimed hope, yearning to fix on some stranger's face, the sheeny color of a scarf, anything that will keep you from watching your parents fall into the ruins of their grief. You settle on gold. A family of gold-eyed children, two girls and one boy. A man in armor and a long black cape ushers them towards the dais. This is Soren's family--they must be, because the little girls are crying his name and the boy is sulking and their father is General Hector Isaias, commander of the wall guards, the man who would have killed you had his son not kept your secret. It is Elyana, the Ninth Sister, who is known for her gambits and trickery--but Kynthia must have [[<a>a few jests of her own.->C4 Apothecarist 10]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You can hardly stand to look at Soren Isaias, let alone take his hand. This is not your tragedy to bear together. You search the crowd, yearning to fix on faces you don't know, the color of someone's scarf, anything that will keep you from watching your parents fall into the ruins of their grief. You settle on gold. A family of gold-eyed children, two girls and one boy. A man in armor and a long black cape ushers them towards the dais. This is Soren's family--they must be, because the little girls are crying his name and the boy is sulking and their father is General Hector Isaias, commander of the wall guards, the man who would have killed you had his son not kept your secret. It is Elyana, the Ninth Sister, who is known for her gambits and trickery--but Kynthia must have [[<a>a few jests of her own.->C4 Apothecarist 10]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Once your mother is gone, Annie wraps you in a tight embrace. She smells heavily of perfume, something with rose and musk and warm honey notes. (text-style: "bold")["Here I was, thinking your mother was going to hold you captive,"] she says as she pulls away. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["So was I,"] you confess. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Where are we going?"] (text-style: "bold")["To dance,"] she says, flashing a bright, crescent moon of a smile. (text-style: "bold")["There's a big group up near the fountain."] [[<m>"That sounds...fun, actually."->C4 Mapmaker 4-A-1A]] [[<m>"Are you trying to embarrass me?"->C4 Mapmaker 4-A-1B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Annie greets you with a tight embrace. She smells heavily of perfume, something with rose and musk and warm honey notes. (text-style: "bold")["Here I was, thinking your mother was going to hold you captive,"] she says as she pulls away. Her cheeks are pink, more so than the cold colors them, and you wonder if she hasn't already had a bit of festival wine with her parents. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["So was I,"] you confess. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Where are we going?"] (text-style: "bold")["To dance,"] she says, flashing a bright, crescent moon of a smile. (text-style: "bold")["There's a big group around the fountain."] [[<m>"That sounds...fun, actually."->C4 Mapmaker 4-A-1A]] [[<m>"Are you trying to embarrass me?"->C4 Mapmaker 4-A-1B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Annie grabs your hand and leads you off the side of the street, into the bustling Square. The air smells of cinnamon and fried dough and citrus--scents that would on any other day be pleasant, but have since become cloying to you. (text-style: "bold")["You seem nervous,"] she says. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I'm not nervous."] You are melancholy. Angry. Conflicted. But not nervous. (text-style: "bold")["Good. I saw a bunch of guard cadets headed that way, you know."] You force lightness into your voice. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Is //Darius// going to be there?"] (text-style: "bold")["Oh, I'm not interested in him,"] she says. She leans in to whisper, but she nearly has to shout to be heard over the growing din of celebration. (text-style: "bold")["But that Captain you were talking to..."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Soren tried to kill us, Annie."] (text-style: "bold")["So? He has pretty eyes."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["And when were you staring into his eyes, again?"] Annie shrugs. (text-style: "bold")["I saw what I needed to."] You roll your eyes. [[<m>She can have him.->C4 Mapmaker 5]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud,"] she says. (text-style:"bold")["You forget are other things to do in life than copy maps and swing an axe around."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I know, I'm a terrible bore,"] you respond, though the mere mention of your axe has you fiddling with the beak on your bracelet. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Why do you even spend time with me?"] (text-style: "bold")["Because I like you,"] she says, grabbing your hand. (text-style: "bold")["Come on, this way."] You have no choice but to follow her--but even if you did, [[<m>you think you would've, anyway.->C4 Mapmaker 4-A-1C]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[While not yet full, the Square is bustling, alive with music and conversation and cheeky drinking rhymes. The air smells of cinnamon and fried pastry dough--scents that would on any other day be pleasant, but have become cloying to you. Annie can tell you're getting lost in your thoughts. She squeezes your hand and pulls you deeper into the crowd. (text-style: "bold")["I saw a handful of guard cadets headed this way, you know,"] she says. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Is //Darius// going to be there?"] you tease. (text-style: "bold")["Oh, I'm not interested in him,"] she says. She leans in to whisper, but she nearly has to shout to be heard over the growing din of celebration. (text-style: "bold")["But that Captain you were talking to..."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Soren tried to kill us, Annie."] (text-style: "bold")["So? He has pretty eyes."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["And when were you staring into his eyes, again?"] Annie shrugs. (text-style: "bold")["I saw what I needed to."] You roll your eyes. [[<m>She can have him.->C4 Mapmaker 5]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The fountain at the center of Aever Square is known as the Spire--it bears the marble forms of the Twelve Sisters, clambering over each other to reach the heavens. In the warmer months, water flows from their hands, but now, the fountain is no more than a carved white altar, its shallow bottom pool heaped full of offerings and scribbled prayers. A lake of color undulates around the Spire--teenagers clad in shiny cloaks and dresses, coats with fresh polished buttons, bright wool scarves that trail out the backs of their coats like wings. They are neighbors and old classmates, strangers and almost-friends. [[<m>They are your future, and you will dance with them.->C4 Mapmaker 6]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The world twists at its spine--everything blurs but you and your brother, this wretched ghost of him smiling at you like nothing has changed, like this isn't the anniversary of his death sentence, and you aren't staring down the tunnel of a life without him. A life without all of them. You mouth his name, sign it with your hands, but he doesn't respond. Doesn't blink. Bodies whirl, eclipsing him. You pitch yourself forward, only for a boy to swing his partner into your side and knock you to the cobblestone (text-style:"bold")["Hey, are you alright?"] a voice asks. A boy's. Familiar, but you can't grasp it. (text-style:"fade-in-out")[CHIME.] [[<m>The bells are tolling five.->C4 Mapmaker 7-2]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The world twists at its spine--everything blurs but you and your brother, this wretched ghost of him smiling at you like nothing has changed, like this isn't the anniversary of his death sentence, and you aren't staring down the tunnel of a life without him. A life without all of them. You mouth his name, sign it with your hands, but he doesn't respond. Doesn't blink. Bodies whirl, eclipsing him. You pitch yourself forward, only for a boy to swing his partner into your side and knock you to the cobblestone. (text-style:"bold")["Hey, are you alright?"] a voice asks. A boy's. Familiar, but you can't grasp it. (text-style:"fade-in-out")[CHIME.] The bells are tolling five. (text-style:"fade-in-out")[CHIME.] [[<m>The sun is setting beneath the ramparts.->C4 Mapmaker 7-3]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The world twists at its spine--everything blurs but you and your brother, this wretched ghost of him smiling at you like nothing has changed, like this isn't the anniversary of his death sentence, and you aren't staring down the tunnel of a life without him. A life without all of them. You mouth his name, sign it with your hands, but he doesn't respond. Doesn't blink. Bodies whirl, eclipsing him. You pitch yourself forward, only for a boy to swing his partner into your side and knock you to the cobblestone. (text-style:"bold")["Hey, are you alright?"] a voice asks. A boy's. Familiar, but you can't grasp it. (text-style:"fade-in-out")[CHIME.] The bells are tolling five. (text-style:"fade-in-out")[CHIME.] The sun is setting beneath the ramparts. (text-style:"fade-in-out")[CHIME.] [[<m>The Oracle is coming, walking up her dais, and she knows who is next to die.->C4 Mapmaker 7-4]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"expand")[[[<m>//"Willa, go!"//->C4 Mapmaker 7-5]]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[This is Annie's voice. You catch a curl of her perfume as she helps you to your feet. (text-style:"fade-in-out")[CHIME.] You run. Your parents sit where they do every Solstice, at the head of the closest long table to the Oracle's dais. You can see her, a blazing candle of a woman, lifting her hands into the air. (text-style:"fade-in-out")[CHIME.] You fall down beside your mother, taking the last seat on the edge of the bench, and she locks an arm around you, pulls you close and kisses your head. For once, you do not flinch under her touch. "Have you been praying?" [[<m>You haven't. But in seeing your brother's ghost, you wonder if maybe you should've.->C4 Mapmaker 8]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["People of Aeverdam,"] the Oracle calls. The Square is shaped just so to carry her voice. (text-style: "bold")["The Twelve Sisters have yet again blessed us with a plentiful harvest, and as we come together to celebrate this great reaping, we must yet give our thanks to Julianna, Our Fourth Sister of the Frost, for the dawn of another winter."] A few cheers ring out, but you and your parents remain silent. (text-style: "bold")["To many, winter is a time of death. The trees shrivel, the long-browned leaves lose their mooring, the creatures of the earth turn harsh and hungry. But in this dark, cold season, one that tests our wits as much as our bodies, the Sisters offer hope.] (text-style: "bold")["Kynthia, Our First Sister of Light, has bestowed upon me the names of this year's heroes, who will so boldly continue our quest to vanquish the Curse upon our realm. If I may have silence, and the closing of eyes in Our Sister's reverence, I will call our Chosen heroes to my side." ] You brace yourself, though you don't know why. It cannot be you, and it cannot be Annie, and you're not sure you care enough about anyone else your age to worry for them. The Oracle pauses. Moves her hands, drawing slabs of rose-gold sun into the spaces between them. [[<m>"Our first Hunter is...Soren Isaias!"->C4 Mapmaker 8-1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-colour:"#ccffd4")[//Soren?//] you think. (text-colour:"#ccffd4")[//That Soren?//] You crane for a glimpse of him, hoisting your knees onto the bench to peer over the standing front of the crowd. It's that Soren, alright. His brown hair is gelled and smoothed off his face, his guard's-lance traded for a short silver rapier at his hip. He walks with an infuriating measure of pride, and when he bows before the Oracle, his squadmates drum up a cheer so loud their voices rattle in the deep of your bones. (text-style: "bold")["And our second Hunter, by Kynthia's will..."] the Oracle starts, then pauses. The Kingdom holds its breath. Your mother holds you. You meet eyes with your father, who is moving his lips, soundlessly, but you cannot make out the words. [[<m>"...is Willa Corbel."->C4 Mapmaker 8-2]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[No. No, this can't be. You have magic--though you've hardly touched it, it burns within you. The Oracle never chooses mages. You are scarce. Vital. Sacred. Yet you're almost...happy? Monster or martyr, the grief will end. There will be no more missing Cyrus's stories, or Siegfried's kindness, or the extra potatoes Adam would slide onto your plate at dinner. There will be no more memories, and no more ghosts. You rise from the bench to a choir of silence. Another Corbel, another tragedy. You head straight for the dais, and you do not glance back at your parents. [[<m>If you look at them, you will shatter.->C4 Mapmaker 8-3]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Your applause, like Soren's, comes as you bow. With it, there is weeping. Bizarre calls of, //"Sisters bless the Corbels!"// Crueler taunts: //"Another child who won't save us."// //"What a useless family."// This must be the burden your brothers felt as their knees hit the dais, as the Oracle laid the Hunters' wreath of holly and pine upon their brows. As they took up a fate of a world that cannot be saved. Is this why you saw Cyrus's ghost? And was it a warning--or a welcome? (text-style:"bold")["Blessed people, behold--your new Solstice Hunters!"] The Kingdom's cries are fervent, their applause like the cracking of bones, sickening in its timbre. The Hunters' wreath falls upon your head, and it is a wonder the weight does not topple you. Something moves in your periphery. It is Soren, newly crowned and newly somber. He holds out his hand to you, baring the worn leather palm of his glove. [[<m>Take his hand.->C4 Mapmaker 9A]] [[<m>Turn away.->C4 Mapmaker 9B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You lay your hand in his, and and he squeezes your fingers, a tiny reassurance. The tenderness of it startles you. You shake it off. What a foolish boy he is, wanting to be friends the day before you both are going to die. Yet you do not let go. To let go feels a cruelty, and there is enough of that, tonight. The Oracle bids you rise. You half expect Soren to lift your joined hands, to proclaim a victory that can't be won, if only to soothe a weary Kingdom. But they do not look weary. The people whoop and cheer, chanting your names, wholehearted in their belief that you will be the ones to save them. You find yourself adrift in their tear-rimed hope, yearning to fix on some stranger's face, the sheeny color of a scarf, anything that will keep you from watching your parents fall into the ruins of their grief. You settle on gold. A family of gold-eyed children, two girls and one boy. A man in armor and a long black cape ushers them towards the dais. This is Soren's family--they must be, because the little girls are crying his name and the boy is sulking and their father is General Hector Isaias, commander of the wall guards, the man who would have killed you had his son not kept your secret. You did not take the Oracle for a trickster when you met her--[[<m>but it seems her humor is the crueler sort.->C4 Mapmaker 10]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You can hardly stand to look at Soren Isaias, let alone take his hand. This is not your tragedy to bear together. You search the crowd, yearning to fix on faces you don't know, the color of someone's scarf, anything that will keep you from watching your parents fall into the ruins of their grief. You settle on gold. A family of gold-eyed children, two girls and one boy. A man in armor and a long black cape ushers them towards the dais. This is Soren's family--they must be, because the little girls are crying his name and the boy is sulking and their father is General Hector Isaias, commander of the wall guards, the man who would have killed you had his son not kept your secret. You did not take the Oracle for a trickster when you met her--[[<m>but it seems her humor is the crueler sort.->C4 Mapmaker 10]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The Oracle orders you down from the dais, and the celebration resumes. You shove your way between bodies, searching for anything that looks like a way out. Then a flicker of jewels steals your gaze. There is Annie, her face ablaze with fury and tears sheening on her skin. You reach for her, desperate for something to anchor you in the raucous swell of the crowd, but she steps back, lets herself disappear. Somehow, [[<a>her rejection aches more than the Oracle's sentence.->C4 Apothecarist 11]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The last day of your life begins long before the sun rises. You dress by the light of a single candle and feel your way downstairs, into the moon-blue and shadow of the shop. You open the door slowly enough so that the bell above it does not (text-style:"fade-in-out")[chime] when you slip through. Outside, the streets are littered in the vestiges of celebration: empty bottles, half-eaten pastries, discarded hats and scarves that have since gone turgid with frost. Dogs prowl, leaving their warmer alcoves and alleys to pick at the scraps. [[<a>When you reach the Spire, the lanterns left on the altars are still burning.->C5 Apothecarist 2]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The last day of your life begins long before the sun rises. You dress by the light of a single candle and feel your way downstairs, into the moon-blue and shadow of the shop. You open the door slowly enough so that the bell above it does not (text-style:"fade-in-out")[chime] when you slip through. Outside, the streets are littered in the vestiges of celebration: empty bottles, half-eaten pastries, discarded hats and scarves that have since gone turgid with frost. Dogs prowl, leaving their warmer alcoves and alleys to pick at the scraps. [[<m>When you reach the Spire, the lanterns left on the altars are still burning.->C5 Mapmaker 2]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["I could not tell you, child. That is an answer the Sisters have denied even me,"] she says. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Why would they be so cruel?"] It is a childish question, but one you have held in for all your youth. You deserve to speak it. (text-style: "bold")["Your brother asked the same. The youngest one, Cyrus. He came here just like you did. 'What do I do?' he asked me. 'How do I save my little sister?' And I told him to leave you something sharp and accept his fate."] Your stomach plummets. The moonbow axe. The slot for the beak. The magic. It all makes sense. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Cyrus wasn't a mage."] //Was he?// Your last thought goes unspoken, but it's there in the upward curve of your tone. (text-style: "bold")["No, he wasn't. But he'd read all the books on becoming one. Oh, if knowledge could fill the stomach, your brother would be full for centuries."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["So, if I tried to follow what he learned..."] (text-style: "bold")["...perhaps you could do what he could not."] At last, you meet her eyes. They are the many colors of dawn, a kaleidoscope of vibrant fractals. She smiles, and for once, [[<a>the light reaches them.->C5 Apothecarist 6]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["Then fight, Willa. Break the Curse. I did not mince words when I said I thought you stronger than most."] Your jaw quivers. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Did you tell my brothers that, too?"] (text-style: "bold")["He came here just like you did. The youngest one, Cyrus. He asked this same question. 'What do I do? How do I protect my little sister?' And I told him to leave you something sharp, and accept his fate."] Your stomach plummets. The moonbow axe. The slot for the beak. The magic. It all makes sense. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Cyrus wasn't a mage."] //Was he?// Your last thought goes unspoken, but is there in the upward curve of your tone. (text-style: "bold")["No, he wasn't. But he'd read all the books on becoming one. Oh, if knowledge could fill the stomach, your brother would be full for centuries."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["So, if I tried to follow what he learned..."] (text-style: "bold")["...perhaps you could do what he could not."] At last, you meet her eyes. They are the many colors of dawn, a kaleidoscope of vibrant fractals. She smiles, and for once, [[<a>the light reaches them.->C5 Apothecarist 6]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You lay your own lantern among them and fall to your knees. The light climbs every protusion of their clothes and bodies, fading ever slowly until it reaches the triumphant form of Kynthia, whose open hands take on only the glow of the moon. You surrender to her. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I'm here because I don't know what else to do,"] you say, clasping your hands and closing your eyes. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Kynthia, First Sister of Light, why do you send us all to die in vain? Was it something we did? Something my parents did? Oh, Sister, why won't you be merciful?"] Kynthia does not answer. Not with words. The Sisters answer prayers in the movement of life, the careful placement of coincidence. All you can do is hope yours will come before you set out for the Hunt. Something rustles behind you. You hear heeled footsteps on the cobblestone, the swish of heavy skirts. You imagine this is just another disciple, [[<a>until they speak.->C5 Apothecarist 3]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["I knew you would be here."] You rise, but before you can turn around, the Oracle is already at your side, a pale specter in the lanterns' yellow glow. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["That is your job, isn't it? To know things?"] (text-style: "bold")["In its simplest form, I suppose,"] she answers. (text-style: "bold")["Yet one does not have to be an Oracle to know you would come back here."] [[<a>"Why me?"->C5 Apothecarist 3A]] [[<a>"Why would you follow me?"->C5 Apothecarist 3B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["You would have to ask the Sisters. I do not question their prophecies--only speak them."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I don't understand. Mages are never chosen."] The Oracle threads deeper into the maze of offerings. Crushed petals tack to the hem of her cloak. (text-style: "bold")["Indeed. You were right to think your magic was protecting you. By all means, it should've,"] she says. (text-style: "bold") ["But do you see nothing special in your choosing? You are the first mage in centuries to become a Hunter."] [[<a>"I just want to know why the Sisters put this scourge upon my family. I want to know how to make things right."->C5 Apothecarist 4A]] [[<a>"If you believe I can break the Curse, I beseech you, tell me how."->C5 Apothecarist 4B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["It would be cruel of me not to comfort you,"] she answers. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I was supposed to be safe from the Hunt,"] you say. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["It felt like the only thing I could promise my parents."] (text-style: "bold")["You were right to think your magic was protecting you. By all means, it should've,"] she says. (text-style: "bold")["But do you see nothing special in your choosing? You are the first mage in centuries to become a Hunter."] [[<a>"I just want to know why the Sisters put this scourge upon my family. I want to know how to make things right."->C5 Apothecarist 4A]] [[<a>"If you believe I can break the Curse, I beseech you, tell me how."->C5 Apothecarist 4B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You run home as fast as your sleep-heavied legs will carry you. By the time you arrive, dawn is slashing gold-orange licks into the horzion, turning the rest of the sky a lurid blue. Your parents are still asleep--and if they aren't, they mind to themselves. You wonder if they aren't both a shade scared to face you. Once you've reached your room, you relight your candle and fling open the curtains, then pace over to Cyrus's bed. You mean to pick up the books, but a wave of tiredness sends you falling onto the covers. [[<a>Close your eyes for a while first. You need the rest.->C5 Apothecarist 6B-1]] [[<a>Push through and start reading. You're too nervous to catch any shuteye, now.->C5 Apothecarist 6A-1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[There are three books to choose from on his bed, each veiled in a thin layer of dust. You are not so interested in their contents as you are in the notes that may lie within, pressed like flowers between the pages. Where could you start? [[<a>"The Architectural Histories of Outer Aeverdam"->C5 Apothecarist 6A-2A]] [[<a>"A Chronology of Simple Curses"->C5 Apothecarist 6A-2B]] [[<a>"Major and Minor Systems of Energy: Experiments in Material Alchemy"->C5 Apothecarist 6A-2C]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You try to sleep for a few minutes, but your thoughts keep you up, and the spine of one of Cyrus's books keeps digging into your ribs. Eventually, you roll over and give into your curiosity. There are three books to choose from, each veiled in a thin layer of dust. You are not so interested in their contents as you are in the notes that may lie within, pressed like flowers between the pages. Where could you start? [[<a>"The Architectural Histories of Outer Aeverdam"->C5 Apothecarist 6A-2A]] [[<a>"A Chronology of Simple Curses"->C5 Apothecarist 6A-2B]] [[<a>"Major and Minor Systems of Energy: Experiments in Material Alchemy"->C5 Apothecarist 6A-2C]]]

(font:"Garamond")[There are no notes that bulge the pages--nothing falls out when you shake the book. However, the closest passage interests you. //It was in the 7th Cursed Year that the wall was built at the New Oracle's command. Like his father before him, he had a terrible fear of the fey creatures of the Woodlands, and insisted the walls be built with an iron skeleton so as to keep them away. When the King warned him that such a foundation would surely rust, leaving the walls more prone to crumbling, the Oracle had the King tried for heresy. He was not convicted, as the judges saw reason in his claims, but mere a day after the trial, he fainted, tumbled down the palace stairs, and died.// You shudder, and a dark part of you wonders if your choosing for the Hunt is less than appointment than punishment. [[<a>Pick up another book.->C5 Apothecarist 6A-1]]]

(font:"Garamond")[This one looks promising. It's a wonder you never noticed it, though the embossed title has faded and peeled from years of use. You shake it, and two scraps of paper fall out. One is illegible, damn your brother's horrid hand, but the other stares up at you in clear black ink. //Chapter Three: The WILL to BreAk// Your heart leaps. This is the one. [[<a>Flip to Chapter Three.->C5 Apothecarist 6A-2B1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Much of this book is written in an old, jagged language you can't understand--what you can is academic gibberish, written for people with . Each string of words feels like a new gate flung up in your face. When you finally find one of Cyrus's notes, plastered to the inside of the back cover, it bears only one phrase: //IT IS MORE THAN FIRE.// Perhaps he's talking about magic, but such a bizarre note doesn't seem very personal, to you. [[<a>Pick another book.->C5 Apothecarist 6A-1]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Cyrus has placed a silver ledger on the second page, guiding your eyes to a thick paragraph near the top of the page. //Perhaps most importantly, the young mage must understand that curses and blessings are much the same in their shieldlike quality. It is critical, then, to discern whether what one thinks is a curse is even a curse at all. This will not make it any easier to break--blessings made with hope are oft stronger than curses made with malice, for malice is a shallow, brittle thing, and hope runs as deep as the bones.// The thought makes your head spin. Could the Curse be another realm's blessing? Is that what makes it so stubbornly unbreakable? And as death looms, can you sharpen your own hope to cut it? [[<a>Pick another book.->C5 Apothecarist 6A-1]] [[<a>Rest and mull it over.->C5 Apothecarist 7A]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You place //Simple Curses// with your own things and return to your bed. You do not sleep--only feign it when your mother comes to wake you. As she did with all your brothers, she will try her best to make this a 'normal' day, with a big lunch and afternoon tea and maybe even a little work, just to keep your mind busy. Of course, your mind is already busy enough, but it would be cruel not to indulge her on [[<a>the last day of your life.->C5 Apothecarist 8]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[At half past three, your father returns from the stables with Kordi and a wagon. You watch out the window as he loads it with blankets and a covered basket of food, padding everything down like one would soil in a garden. "Willa." Your mother stands in the threshold. Her nose and cheeks are a ruddy clay color, her eyes bloodshot and lashes damp. She nods to your nightstand. "Can I take your cup?" You slowly close your book, keeping the cover face down. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Is it time to go?"] She doesn't nod, but you know the answer. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I'll put my cup by the sink."] (text-style: "bold")["No, no. Let me do it. Please."] [[<a>Hand her the cup. She just wants to do something for you.->C5 Apothecarist 9]] [[<a>Your fingers are already around the rim. Just follow her to the kitchen.->C5 Apothecarist 9]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You lay your own lantern among them, but you do not kneel as the clerics and priors would have you. Instead, you stand before the Sisters like you are facing down a beast. The light climbs every protusion of their clothes and bodies, fading ever slowly until it reaches the uppermost form of Kynthia, whose open hands take on only the glow of the moon. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I'm here because I don't know what else to do,"] you say aloud, and though your voice spreads through the whole Square, you do not care who hears you. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["You are made of stone. Why should you command my life? My brothers' lives? Or better--who does this Kingdom want to appease in your name?"] Your words linger like ice in the air, an echo unanswered. Still, you feel better for speaking them. The silence proves you right. Something rustles behind you. You hear heeled footsteps on the cobblestone, the swish of heavy skirts. You imagine this is just another disciple, [[<m>until they speak.->C5 Mapmaker 3]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["I knew you would be here."] Before you can turn around, the Oracle is already at your side, a pale specter in the lanterns' yellow glow. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["That is your job, isn't it? To know things?"] (text-style: "bold")["In its simplest form, I suppose,"] she answers. (text-style: "bold")["Yet one does not have to be an Oracle to know you would come back here."] [[<m>"Why me?"->C5 Mapmaker 3A]] [[<m>"Why would you follow me?"->C5 Mapmaker 3B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The Oracle threads deeper into the maze of offerings. Crushed petals tack to the hem of her cloak.(text-style: "bold")["You would have to ask the Sisters. I do not question their prophecies--only speak them."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I don't believe in the sisters."] She turns back to you with another one of her uncanny smiles, but in such faint light, you cannot tell if it is malice or humor you see gleaming in her eyes["You really do think you're going to die, don't you?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Every Hunter dies."] (text-style: "bold")["There is no need to be coarse, Willa. If you thought your little unused magic was protecting you, by all means, it should've,"] she says, softening. (text-style: "bold")["But do you see nothing special in your choosing? You are the first mage in three centuries to become a Hunter."] [[<m>"All I see is a blight upon my family."->C5 Mapmaker 4A]] [[<m>"If you believe I can break the Curse, don't be glib about it. Tell me how."->C5 Mapmaker 4B]]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["It would be cruel of me not to comfort you,"] she answers. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I don't care for your comfort,"] you say. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I promised my father I would live, and you took that from him. Not the Sisters, not the King--//you//."] (text-style: "bold")["You were right to think your magic was protecting you. By all means, it should've,"] she says. (text-style: "bold")["But do you see nothing special in your choosing? You are the first mage in centuries to become a Hunter."] [[<m>"All I see is a blight upon my family."->C5 Mapmaker 4A]] [[<m>"If you believe I can break the Curse, don't be glib about it. Tell me how."->C5 Mapmaker 4B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["My, you are so much like your brother,"] she says. ["The youngest one, I mean. Cyrus. He came here just like you did. 'What do I do?' he asked me. 'How do I save my little sister?' And I told him to leave you something sharp and accept his fate."] Your stomach plummets. The moonbow axe. The slot for the beak. The magic. It all makes sense. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Cyrus wasn't a mage."] //Was he?// Your last thought goes unspoken, but it's there in the upward curve of your tone. (text-style: "bold")["No, he wasn't. But he'd read all the books on becoming one. Oh, if knowledge could fill the stomach, your brother would be full for centuries."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["So, if I tried to follow what he learned..."] (text-style: "bold")["...perhaps you could do what he could not."] At last, you meet her eyes. They are the many colors of dawn, a kaleidoscope of vibrant fractals. She smiles, and for once, [[<m>the light reaches them.->C5 Mapmaker 6]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["I could not tell you, child. That is an answer the Sisters have denied even me,"] she says. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Then you don't know."] (text-style: "bold")["My, you are so much like your brother,"] she says. ["The youngest one, I mean. Cyrus. He came here just like you did. 'What do I do?' he asked me. 'How do I save my little sister?' And I told him to leave you something sharp and accept his fate."] Your stomach plummets. The moonbow axe. The slot for the beak. The magic. It all makes sense. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Cyrus wasn't a mage."] //Was he?// Your last thought goes unspoken, but it's there in the upward curve of your tone. (text-style: "bold")["No, he wasn't. But he'd read all the books on becoming one. Oh, if knowledge could fill the stomach, your brother would be full for centuries."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["So, if I tried to follow what he learned..."] (text-style: "bold")["...perhaps you could do what he could not."] At last, you meet her eyes. They are the many colors of dawn, a kaleidoscope of vibrant fractals. She smiles, and for once, [[<m>the light reaches them.->C5 Mapmaker 6]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You run home as fast as your sleep-heavied legs will carry you. By the time you arrive, dawn is slashing gold-orange licks into the horzion, turning the rest of the sky a lurid blue. Your parents are still asleep--and if they aren't, they mind to themselves. You wonder if they aren't both a shade scared to face you. Once you've reached your room, you relight your candle and fling open the curtains, then pace over to Cyrus's bed. You mean to pick up the books, but a wave of tiredness sends you falling onto the covers. [[<m>Close your eyes for a while first. You need the rest.->C5 Mapmaker 6B-1]] [[<m>Push through and start reading. You're too nervous to catch any shuteye, now.->C5 Mapmaker 6A-1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[There are three books to choose from on his bed, each veiled in a thin layer of dust. You are not so interested in their contents as you are in the notes that may lie within, pressed like flowers between the pages. Where to start? [["The Architectural Histories of Outer Aeverdam"->C5 Mapmaker 6A-2A]] [[<m>"Major and Minor Systems of Energy: Experiments in Material Alchemy"->C5 Mapmaker 6A-2C]] [["A Chronology of Simple Curses"->C5 Mapmaker 6A-2B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You try to sleep for a few minutes, but your thoughts keep you up, and the spine of one of Cyrus's books keeps digging into your ribs. Eventually, you roll over and give into your curiosity. There are three books to choose from, each veiled in a thin layer of dust. You are not so interested in their contents as you are in the notes that may lie within, pressed like flowers between the pages. Where could you start? [[<m>"The Architectural Histories of Outer Aeverdam"->C5 Mapmaker 6A-2A]] [[<m>"A Chronology of Simple Curses"->C5 Mapmaker 6A-2B]] [[<m>"Major and Minor Systems of Energy: Experiments in Material Alchemy"->C5 Mapmaker 6A-2C]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Cyrus has placed a silver ledger on the second page, guiding your eyes to a thick paragraph near the top of the page. //Perhaps most importantly, the young mage must understand that curses and blessings are much the same in their shieldlike quality. It is critical, then, to discern whether what one thinks is a curse is even a curse at all. This will not make it any easier to break--blessings made with hope are oft stronger than curses made with malice, for malice is a shallow, brittle thing, and hope runs as deep as the bones.// The thought makes your head spin. Could the Curse be another realm's blessing? Is that what makes it so stubbornly unbreakable? And as death looms, can you sharpen your own hope to cut it? [[<m>Pick another book.->C5 Mapmaker 6A-1]] [[<m>Rest and mull it over.->C5 Mapmaker 7A]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You place //Simple Curses// with your own things and return to your bed. You do not sleep--only feign it when your father comes to wake you. As she did with all your brothers, he will try her best to make this a 'normal' day, with a hearty breakfast and steaming mugs of black tea and maybe even a little work, just to keep your mind busy. Of course, your mind is already busy enough, but you want to spend all the time you can with him on [[<m>this last day of your life.->C5 Mapmaker 8]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[At half past three, your father returns from the stables with Kordi and a wagon. You watch out the window as he loads it with blankets and a covered basket of food, padding everything down like one would soil in a garden. "Willa." Your mother stands in the threshold. Her nose and cheeks are a ruddy clay color, her eyes bloodshot and lashes damp. She nods to your nightstand. "Can I take your cup?" You slowly close your book, keeping the cover face down. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Is it time to go?"] She doesn't nod, but you know the answer. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I'll put my cup by the sink."] (text-style: "bold")["No, no. Let me do it. Please."] [[<m>Don't be bitter--hand her the cup. She just wants to do something for you.->C5 Mapmaker 9]] [[<m>Your fingers are already around the rim. Just follow her to the kitchen.->C5 Mapmaker 9]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You don't bother with any sentimental goodbyes to your room, the kitchen, the shop. You have gone through these motions again and again, seven goodbyes felt alongside seven brothers. But at the same time, hope batters its tiny fists against your ribs, tempting you to believe that Cyrus has given you just enough to make a difference. One thing is already different: your father is coming along. You expected him to simply leave the cart outside, return to his study to push his grief into paper, but he takes Kordi's reins while you huddle in the cart with your mother. She leans a head on your shoulder and tells you stories of her girlhood, if only to keep herself from weeping again. As you close in on the woods, gray clouds stretch over the sky, bringing snow that falls in coin-sized flakes. The wind promises more--[[<a>the Unfaced won't be the only challenge to your survival tonight.->C5 Apothecarist 10]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[When you reach the Southern Gate, a flock of wall guards swells around your horse and cart, corraling you off from the onlookers. As you roll through, they ring cowbells and shake instruments filled with hardened grain. Even Tristan, popular as he was, didn't draw so large a parting crowd, though you wonder if it's Soren who's drawn them here, instead. He looks ready enough, with his knapsack on his hip and lance shining in hand. His whole family is with him, his little siblings bundled in heavy coats and blankets. He does not wear his guard uniform, to your surprise, but a simple gray coat and chest armor. His sisters have festooned him in red berry and popcorn necklaces, and one has pinned a browned maple leaf in the dip of his scarf. He gives a wave when he spots you. [[<a>Speak to Soren.->C5 Apothecarist 11A]] [[<a>Wave back, but leave him be, for now.->C5 Apothecarist 11B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I'll be right back,"] you tell your mother as you leap out of the cart. She tries to grab you by your hood, but misses. Soren walks forward to meet you, his gaze going right to the moonbow axe in your hand. (text-style: "bold")["That's an impressive blade, there."] You pass over his compliment and gesture to his necklaces. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Are you trying to summon an army of birds to ride into battle with? Because as soon as the food is gone, they'll change allegiances very quickly."] (text-style: "bold")["I will say that strategy did //not// cross my mind."] There is a sharp, gold flash of movement--one of his sisters, dunking a wet handful of snow onto his shoulder. (text-style: "bold")["Hey! Watch it!"] he exclaims as she runs away, squealing. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Your sisters seem...happy."] Soren shrugs. (text-style: "bold")["They don't know what this all means."] [[<a>"Why didn't you tell them?"->C5 Apothecarist 11A-1A]] [[<a>"What? Are you going to just lie to them?"->C5 Apothecarist 11A-1B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[With Soren out of sight, you huddle deeper into your blanket, aching to hold its warmth in your bones. Your father joins you in the cart, and you avoid his gaze, instead choosing to watch the guards mill about, forming a dark-dressed boundary between you and the crowd. A part of you wishes you'd gone to Annie's this morning, had her come along with you. Made up. But she seemed so angry last night...it haunts you, the betrayal you saw on her face, like the Oracle had ripped her future away, too. But it's better, this way. [[<a>You're with your family, and that's all that matters.->C5 Apothecarist 11]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Soren glances back at his sisters. They're running around his brother, now, who looks entirely uninterested, his face half-buried in his scarf. (text-style: "bold")["It's easier for my father, this way,"] he says, a forlornness in his voice. (text-style: "bold")["If we come home, they get to believe I'm a hero. If I don't, he'll find his own way to let them know."] You raise an eyebrow. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["We?"] (text-style: "bold")["I don't intend to let you die, Willa Corbel. I was hoping you'd extend me that same kindness."] [["We'll see how far that optimism gets you."->C5 Apothecarist 11A-2A]] [["This isn't a competition to me, if that's what you're worried about."->C5 Apothecarist 11A-2B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["My father just wants to protect them,"] Soren says. He glances back at his sisters. They're running around his brother, now, who looks entirely uninterested, his face half-buried in his scarf. (text-style: "bold")["One day, I suppose they'll know. Unless, of course, we come home victorious."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["We?"] (text-style: "bold")["I don't intend to let you die, Willa Corbel. I was hoping you'd extend me that same kindness."] [[<a>"We'll see how far that optimism gets you."->C5 Apothecarist 11A-2A]] [[<a>"This isn't a competition to me, if that's what you're worried about."->C5 Apothecarist 11A-2B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Soren bristles. (text-style: "bold")["You'd do well to have a little more, yourself."] You clench your teeth to keep from snapping back at him. The littlest of his sisters pelts a snowball at his back, and you use the moment to escape and [[return to your parents.->C5 Apothecarist 11]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Soren's face brightens. (text-style: "bold")["Then we'll work together?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["We'll do whatever it takes to make it out to the Curse--together, or apart."] (text-style: "bold")["You're a little cruel for a healer, aren't you?"] You clench your teeth to keep from snapping back at him. The littlest of his sisters pelts a snowball at his back, and you use the moment to escape and [[return to your parents.->C5 Apothecarist 11]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["It's almost time,"] you tell them, because if no one speaks it, the moment will sneak up on all of you like a predator in the brush. Your father is the first to embace you, and for the first time in four years, you don't stiffen at his touch. When he releases you, he mouths something that looks like //I'm sorry//, before turning and walking into the crowd. Your mother's hand finds your shoulder. (text-style: "bold")["He loves you, Willa,"] she says. (text-style: "bold")["This is hard for both of us."] [[<a>"But you're still here with me."->C5 Apothecarist 12]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[She hands you a knapsack out of the cart and tightens the strap over your shoulder. (text-style: "bold")["Here, nice and snug,"] she says, her eyes misting. (text-style: "bold")["By the Sisters, it's like your school days, isn't it?"] You look inside to avoid looking a her tears. You count your own things--a map, a canteen, a few rations of food--but she's added a sachet of herbs for pain and a tin of mulled honey to warm you from within. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["You didn't have to do all this."] (text-style: "bold")["Of course, I did. I'm your mother,"] she says, and the words crack like a dry branch. She pulls you into your arms and cradles your head in her hand. (text-style: "bold")["Come back to us, Willa. Use your wits. Your gifts. For your brothers, you must find your way home."] (text-colour:"#e9b2df")[//But what if I'm the mosnter?//] you almost ask, but you don't want these to be the last words you speak to your mother. [[<a>"I love you,"->C5 Apothecarist 12-1]] you say instead, and she kisses your forehead and lets you go. ]

(font:"Garamond")[Cracked lips come to bone[[<a>...->C5 Apothecarist 13-1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You are nearly a mile into the Woodlands when the sun sinks and turns the sky the color of a fresh bruise. The bitter cold has driven all sensible life into its burrows--you heard only the susurrus of the leafless trees, the bone-crunch of your boots on the snow. Soren is a few paces ahead of you, using the blunt end of his lance as a walking stick. (text-style: "bold")["It's getting dark fast,"] he says. (text-style: "bold")["Did you bring a lantern?"] You fumble at your hips. You left your only lantern at the Spire this morning. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I...no. I forgot. We can't go back, can we?"] (text-style: "bold")["The gates are closed until tomorrow morning,"] he says. (text-style: "bold")["It's alright, though. You can just stay close to me."] [[<a>"Not like I had a choice."->C5 Apothecarist 14-1A]] [[<a>"That's probably safer, isn't it?"->C5 Apothecarist 14-1B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["I don't get why you're so cold to me,"] says Soren. (text-style: "bold")["I thought all was forgiven?"] You pull your scarf above your chin. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I'm just trying to stay focused. We don't know what's out here."] (text-style: "bold")["My sisters say there are fairies in the trees. Emmy asked me to bring one home for them."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Now that'd be rude to the fairy, wouldn't it?"] Idly, your gaze slides to the snow-limned hollows of the trees, as if for a moment, you believe such a silly tale. (text-style: "bold")["Hm. You're right,"] he says. (text-style: "bold")["I guess a story will just have to do."] [[Keep talking to Soren to pass the time--and keep your teeth from chattering.->C5 Apothecarist 14-2A]] [[Stay silent--stay vigilant.->C5 Apothecarist 14-2B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["Are you cold?"] he asks. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["That's a silly question, Soren."] He takes a step closer, matching your pace. (text-style: "bold")["You know, my sisters say there are fairies out in these woods. Emmy asked me to bring one home for them."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Now that'd be rude to the fairy, wouldn't it?"] Idly, your gaze slides to the snow-limned hollows of the trees, as if for a moment, you believe such a tale. (text-style: "bold")["Hm. You're right,"] he says. (text-style: "bold")["I guess a story will just have to do."] [[<a>Keep talking to Soren to pass the time--and keep your teeth from chattering.->C5 Apothecarist 14-2A]] [[<a>Stay silent--stay vigilant.->C5 Apothecarist 14-2B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You don't bother with any sentimental goodbyes to your room, the kitchen, the study. You have gone through these motions again and again, seven goodbyes felt alongside seven brothers. But at the same time, hope batters its tiny fists against your ribs, tempting you to believe that Cyrus has given you just enough to make a difference. One thing is already different: your father is coming along. You had told him once that he didn't have to, if the time ever came. You understood why he stayed behind each year. You forgave him. Yet he sits in the cart with you today, a shared blanket draped over your shoulders, and tells you stories of his boyhood while your mother drives Kordi [[<m>through the newly-falling snow.->C5 Mapmaker 10]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[When you reach the Southern Gate, a flock of wall guards swells around your horse and cart, corraling you off from the onlookers. As you roll through, they ring cowbells and shake instruments filled with hardened grain. Even Tristan, popular as he was, didn't draw so large a parting crowd, though you wonder if it's Soren who's drawn them here, instead. He looks ready enough, with his knapsack on his hip and lance shining in hand. His whole family is with him, his little siblings bundled in heavy coats and blankets. He does not wear his guard uniform, to your surprise, but a simple gray coat and chest armor. His sisters have festooned him in red berry and popcorn necklaces, and one has pinned a browned maple leaf in the dip of his scarf. He gives a wave when he spots you. [[<m>Speak to Soren.->C5 Mapmaker 11A]] [[<m>Wave back, but leave him be, for now.->C5 Mapmaker 11B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I'll be right back,"] you tell your father as you leap out of the cart. He tries to grab you by your hood, but misses. Soren walks forward to meet you, his gaze going right to the moonbow axe in your hand. (text-style: "bold")["That's an impressive blade, there."] You pass over his compliment and gesture to his necklaces. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Are you trying to summon an army of birds to ride into battle with? Because as soon as the food is gone, they'll change allegiances very quickly."] (text-style: "bold")["I will say that strategy did //not// cross my mind."] There is a sharp, gold flash of movement--one of his sisters, dunking a wet handful of snow onto his shoulder. (text-style: "bold")["Hey! Watch it!"] he exclaims as she runs away, squealing. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Your sisters seem...happy."] Soren shrugs. (text-style: "bold")["They don't know what this all means."] [[<m>"Why didn't you tell them?"->C5 Mapmaker 11A-1A]] [[<m>"So you just lied to them?"->C5 Mapmaker 11A-1B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[With Soren out of sight, you huddle deeper into your blanket, aching to hold its warmth in your bones. Your father joins you in the cart, and you avoid his gaze, instead choosing to watch the guards mill about, forming a dark-dressed boundary between you and the crowd. A part of you wishes you'd gone to Annie's this morning, had her come along with you. Made up. But she seemed so angry last night...it haunts you, the betrayal you saw on her face, like the Oracle had ripped her future away, too. But it's better, this way. [[<m>You're with your family, and that's all that matters.->C5 Mapmaker 11]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Soren glances back at his sisters. They're running around his brother, now, who looks entirely uninterested, his face half-buried in his scarf. (text-style: "bold")["It's easier for my father, this way,"] he says, a forlornness in his voice. (text-style: "bold")["If we come home, they get to believe I'm a hero. If I don't, he'll find his own way to let them know."] You raise an eyebrow. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["We?"] (text-style: "bold")["I don't intend to let you die, Willa Corbel. I was hoping you'd extend me that same kindness."] [[<m>"We'll see how far that optimism gets you."->C5 Mapmaker 11A-2A]] [[<m>"I won't kick you down a gully and leave you to the cold, if that's what you're worried about."->C5 Mapmaker 11A-2B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["My father just wants to protect them,"] Soren says. He glances back at his sisters. They're running around his brother, now, who looks entirely uninterested, his face half-buried in his scarf. (text-style: "bold")["One day, I suppose they'll know. Unless, of course, we come home victorious."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["We?"] (text-style: "bold")["I don't intend to let you die, Willa Corbel. I was hoping you'd extend me that same kindness."] [[<m>"We'll see how far that optimism gets you."->C5 Mapmaker 11A-2A]] [[<m>"I won't kick you down a gully and leave you to the cold, if that's what you're worried about."->C5 Mapmaker 11A-2B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Soren's face brightens. (text-style: "bold")["Then we'll work together?"] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["We'll do whatever it takes to make it out to the Curse--together, or apart."] (text-style: "bold")["You're a little cruel for a healer, aren't you?"] You clench your teeth to keep from snapping back at him. The littlest of his sisters pelts a snowball at his back, and you use the moment to escape and [[<m>return to your parents.->C5 Mapmaker 11]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["It's almost time,"] you tell them, because if no one speaks it, the moment will sneak up on all of you like a predator in the brush. Your mother is the first to embace you, and for the first time in four years, you don't stiffen at her touch. When she releases you, she mouths something that looks like //I'm sorry// before leaving you alone with your father, and you wish, if only for a sliver of a moment, it weren't [[<m>too late to forgive her.->C5 Mapmaker 11-2]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[He hands you the knapsack out of the cart and tightens the strap over your shoulder. (text-style: "bold")["There you are,"] he says, his eyes misting. (text-style: "bold")["It's just like our first adventure, isn't it?"] You look inside the bag to avoid his teary gaze. You count your own things--the book, a canteen, food wrapped in wax paper--but your father has added a silver compass rose, each direction flung on the wings, head, and tail of a ruby-eyed raven. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Father, this must have cost you a fortune."] (text-style: "bold")["Anything for my little girl is worth the price,"] he says, and the words crack like a dry branch. He pulls you into his arms and cradles your head. (text-style: "bold")["Come back to us, Willa. Use your wits. Your gifts. You are a mapmaker--this world bends and curves to your will."] (text-colour:"#ccffd4")[//That's not so true,//] you almost argue, but you don't want these to be the last words you speak to your father. [[<m>"I love you,"->C5 Mapmaker 12-1]] you say, instead, and he kisses your forehead and lets you go. ]

(font:"Garamond")[Your father's hand finds your shoulder. (text-style: "bold")["You're ready for this, Willa,"] she says. (text-style: "bold")["It's just another walk in the woods."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Not without you to guide me,"] you say. (text-style: "bold")["Oh, my darling. The time would always come that'd I have to let you go alone,"] he tells you. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Why did you come today?"] (text-style: "bold")["Because I believe in you,"] he says, though the tears rising in his eyes betray his doubt. (text-style: "bold")["And I love you. So much. My only daughter, my little adventurer--if anyone can break this curse, it is you."] You fight your own tears with thoughts of the book in your knapsack, your ink-and-paper hopes for a miracle. [["Could you hand me my bag?"->C5 Mapmaker 12]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[...the gate yawns over the path[[<a>...->C5 Apothecarist 13-2]]]

(font:"Garamond")[...across the hills, in the coil of the city, on scythe-curls of frigid wind, a hundred bells (text-style:"fade-in-out")[chime] the year's longest night[[<a>...->C5 Apothecarist 13-3]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Cracked lips come to bone[[<m>...->C5 Mapmaker 13-1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The guards move in, retrieving their bone-horns from their belts, ready to sound the start of the Hunt. Soren marches to the Gate while his sisters throw snow like confetti. You firm your grip on the axe and join him. You do not say goodbye. For your father, for your brothers, for the people of Aeverdam, [[<m>you will return.->C5 Mapmaker 13]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The guards move in, retrieving their bone-horns from their belts, ready to sound the start of the Hunt. Soren marches to the Gate while his sisters throw snow like confetti. You firm your grip on the axe and join him. You do not say goodbye. For your mother, for your brothers, for the people of Aeverdam, [[<a>you will return.->C5 Apothecarist 13]]]

(font:"Garamond")[<m>...the gate yawns over the path[[...->C5 Mapmaker 13-2]]]

(font:"Garamond")[...across the hills, in the coil of the city, on scythe-curls of frigid wind, a hundred bells (text-style:"fade-in-out")[chime] the year's longest night[[<m>...->C5 Mapmaker 13-3]]]

(font:"Garamond") + (text-style:"fade-in-out")[[[<a>THE HUNT BEGINS.->C5 Apothecarist 14]]]

(font:"Garamond") + (text-style:"fade-in-out")[[[<m>THE HUNT BEGINS.->C5 Mapmaker 14]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You are nearly a mile into the Woodlands when the sun sinks and turns the sky the color of a fresh bruise. The bitter cold has driven all sensible life into its burrows--you heard only the susurrus of the leafless trees, the bone-crunch of your boots on the snow. Soren keeps your swift pace, using the blunt end of his lance as a walking stick. (text-style: "bold")["It's getting dark fast,"] he says. (text-style: "bold")["Did you bring a lantern?"] You fumble at your hips. You left your only lantern at the Spire this morning. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I...no. I forgot. We can't go back, can we?"] (text-style: "bold")["The gates are closed until tomorrow morning,"] he says. (text-style: "bold")["It's alright, though. You can just stay close to me."] [[<m>"Not like I had a choice."->C5 Mapmaker 14-1A]] [[<m>"That's probably safer, isn't it?"->C5 Mapmaker 14-1B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style: "bold")["I don't get why you're so cold to me,"] says Soren. (text-style: "bold")["I was hoping we could work together."] You pull your scarf above your chin. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I'm just trying to stay focused. We don't know what's out here."] (text-style: "bold")["My sisters say there are fairies in the trees. Emmy asked me to bring one home for them."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour: "#ccffd4")["Now that'd be rude to the fairy, wouldn't it?"] Idly, your gaze slides to the snow-limned hollows of the trees, as if for a moment, you believe such a silly tale. (text-style: "bold")["Hm. You're right,"] he says. (text-style: "bold")["I guess a story will just have to do."] [[<m>Keep talking to Soren to pass the time--and keep your teeth from chattering.->C5 Mapmaker 14-2A]] [[<m>Stay silent--stay vigilant.->C5 Mapmaker 14-2B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold")["Are you cold?"] he asks. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["That's a silly question, Soren."] He takes a step closer, matching your pace. (text-style: "bold")["You know, my sisters say there are fairies out in these woods. Emmy asked me to bring one home for them."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Now that'd be rude to the fairy, wouldn't it?"] Idly, your gaze slides to the snow-limned hollows of the trees, as if for a moment, you believe such a tale. (text-style: "bold")["Hm. You're right,"] he says. (text-style: "bold")["I guess a story will just have to do."] [[Keep talking to Soren to pass the time--and keep your teeth from chattering.->C5 Mapmaker 14-2A]] [[Stay silent--stay vigilant.->C5 Mapmaker 14-2B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["You have a brother, too, right?"] you ask, and Soren nods. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Did he say goodbye to you?"] A crescent wind sweeps in from the west, pelting your cheeks with snow. You both shiver. (text-style: "bold")["In his own way,"] Soren answers. (text-style: "bold")["Micah's a lot like my father in that he's not one for sentiment."] [[<a>"Where was your mother, today?"->C5 Apothecarist 14-3A]] [[<a>"My brother Adam was like that. I used to think he was a bully, but my mother explained he was just...bad at feelings."->C5 Apothecarist 14-3B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Night slams down on the earth, and the trees give their branches to the sky. The path before you is dark and infinite and ravenous, what little light gleams from Soren's lantern stolen quickly by the falling snow. The shadows live, and you take heavy steps to hide their breaths. (text-style: "bold")["I wish we had a map,"] Soren mutters. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Even mapmakers aren't allowed outside the wall,"] you say. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Though my father's been foolishly trying for years."] (text-style: "bold")["Ha! You wouldn't believe the things we hear in guard training,"] he replies. (text-style: "bold")["I really was supposed to kill you when--"] He doesn't finish his sentence--he freezes, throwing an arm in front of your chest. (text-style: "bold")["Shh."] Something crosses the edge of the lantern's glow. Once, then again. [[<a>Ready your axe and walk towards it.->C5 Apothecarist 15-1A]] [[<a>Stay put.->C5 Apothecarist 15-1B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Soren turns his eyes to the path, his boots leaving shallow ghosts in the snow. (text-style: "bold")["She passed when I was just a kid, not two years after Emmy and Meadow were born."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Oh. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked."] (text-style: "bold")["There's no need for condolences, Willa. You know grief just as well."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["You don't have to be so kind to me. I haven't exactly been the nicest to you."] (text-style: "bold")["Look at it this way: if we're really going to die the way you say, why would I spend the last hours of my life in bitterness?"] You do not have an answer for him, though you suppose it is your own bitterness that is stopping you, calcified after thirteen years of sending your brothers down this same final path. (text-colour:"#e9b2df")[//Hope, Willa.//] You let it burn within you, and be the challenge you face a blessing or Curse, [[<a>you will not deny your brother's last request.->C5 Apothecarist 14-2B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Soren's teeth clack together when he laughs. (text-style: "bold")["Bad at feelings, huh? Sounds like it runs in the family."] You furrow your brow. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["You know most of my brothers weren't mine by blood, don't you?"] (text-style: "bold")["I don't see how that matters."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Their birth-parents were killed in the plague twenty years ago. My mother was the one who treated them--she was so kind, so gentle, they entrusted their children to her after she died. She gave my brothers a life they might've never had. And look what happened."] (text-style: "bold")["So we'll honor their lives by breaking this Curse."] You nod, your jaw tensing. (text-colour:"#e9b2df")[//Hope, Willa.//] You let it burn within you, and be it a blessing or Curse to break, [[<a>you will not deny your brother's last request.->C5 Apothecarist 14-2B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You tiptoe forward and temper your breath, the raven's beak a cool weight at your wrist. You have stilled starving wolves with this axe--you will not flinch at whatever crosses you, now. Cloven hooves pad into the light, and Soren lifts the lantern. The buck is made of starlight. At least, it seems that way, with the snow gleaming on its pale fur. Something else glints along the tendons of its neck, blue and smooth like a mirror, no less a part of it than the antlers that twist out of its head. Your axe is a shard of fire in its eyes. It kicks at the earth and growls, a low, guttural sound. When it kicks a second time, it bows its head, baring the luminous spikes of its antlers. Soren calls your name, but his voice is lost in the [[<a>clash of the beak->C5 Apothecarist 16-B1]] against its notch. ]

(font:"Garamond")[You dig your heels into the snow and temper your breath, the raven beak a cool weight at your wrist. You have stilled starving wolves with this axe--you will not flinch at whatever approaches you, now. Cloven hooves pad into the light, and Soren lifts the lantern. The buck is made of starlight. At least, it seems that way, with the snow gleaming on its pale fur. Something else glints along the tendons of its neck, blue and smooth like a mirror, no less a part of it than the antlers that twist out of its head. Soren tips his lance towards it, but you grab the weapon by the shaft to stop him. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Easy, Soren,"] you whisper. [[<a>//We are not that kind of Hunter.//->C5 Apothecarist 16-A]]]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Of all the din in your mundane world, one restless sound will always wake: provide me its name, or else your valiant quest forsake."//] [[<a>“The crying of a baby.”->Riddle 1 Apothecarist INCORRECT]] [[<a>“The howling of a wolf.”->Riddle 1 Apothecarist INCORRECT]] [[<a>“The tolling of a bell.”->Riddle 1 Apothecarist CORRECT]] [[<a>“You don’t know—ask Soren.”->Riddle 1 Apothecarist SOREN INCORRECT]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Oh no, little bird--your answer is wrong. Let these next three be perfect, or you'll sing your swan song[[<a>...->Riddle 2 Apothecarist I]]"// ]]

(font:"Garamond")[The Unfaced's branches flutter. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"That's right, that's right! I knew you were bright. Is it onto the next riddle, or shall we take a moment to toil, or fiddle?"//] [[<a>"Just give us the riddle, please."->Riddle 2 Apothecarist C]]]

(font:"Garamond")[To your relief, Soren seems confident. (text-style:"bold")["It's a baby's cry, I'm sure of it."] he says. (text-style:"bold")["My sisters used to cry all night."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Yes, little fawn--but even human babes sleep when the sun has yet to dawn."//] (text-style:"bold")["Wait--I'm wrong?"] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"I'm afraid that is the case. One more strike, and you'll be wandering back to your sad, tiny human place..."//] [[<a>"Give us the next riddle, then."->->Riddle 2 Apothecarist I]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//It is a small mouth-fire I've come to seek, one to ease the way for blissful sleep.//] [[<a>“Cinnamon.”->Riddle 2 Apothecarist I CORRECT]] [[<a>“Black pepper.”->Riddle 2 Apothecarist I INCORRECT]] [[<a>“Hot tea.”->Riddle 2 Apothecarist I INCORRECT]] [[<a>You don't know--ask Soren.->Riddle 2 Apothecarist I INCORRECT SOREN]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//It is a small mouth-fire I've come to seek, one to ease the way for blissful sleep.//] [[<a>“Cinnamon.”->Riddle 2 Apothecarist C CORRECT]] [[<a>“Black pepper.”->Riddle 2 Apothecarist C INCORRECT]] [[<a>“Hot tea.”->Riddle 2 Apothecarist C INCORRECT]] [[<a>You don't know--ask Soren.->Riddle 2 Apothecarist C INCORRECT SOREN]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"That's right, that's right! I knew you were bright. Is it onto the next riddle, or shall we take a moment to toil, or fiddle?"//] [[<a>"Let's just move on."->Riddle 3 Apothecarist I C]]]

(font:"Garamond")[The Unfaced seems to wilt. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Little ones, I am weeping--you have failed, you have lost, I must return you now to your walled world's keeping."//] (text-style:"bold")["What do you mean? Can't we try again?"] Soren exclaims. The Unfaced unwinds his branches from your body, but the feeling of them lingers, driving like needles beneath your skin. Remaking you, bone by bone, stitch by stitch. You are so full of untameable energy, you don't know whether to run or retch. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Go home! Be free! Come next winter, I hope we meet!"//] Soren grabs your hand, and you run. [[<a>You //fail.//->BAD END A]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Is it hot tea? That tends to burn my tongue,"] Soren guesses. The Unfaced seems to wilt. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Little ones, I am weeping--you have failed, you have lost, I must return you now to your walled world's keeping."//] (text-style:"bold")["What do you mean? Can't we try again?"] Soren exclaims. The Unfaced unwinds his branches from your body, but the feeling of them lingers, driving like needles beneath your skin. Remaking you, bone by bone, stitch by stitch. You are so full of untameable energy, you don't know whether to run or retch. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Go home! Be free! Come next winter, I hope we meet!"//] Soren grabs your hand, and you run. [[<a>You //fail.//->BAD END A]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"What binding thread spools bitter red, and shackles man ‘til one is dead?"//] [[<a>“Blood.”->Riddle 3 Apothecarist I C INCORRECT]] [[<a>“Anger.”->Riddle 3 Apothecarist I C INCORRECT]] [[<a>“The wall.”->Riddle 3 Apothecarist I C CORRECT]] [[<a>You don’t know—ask Soren.->Riddle 3 Apothecarist I C CORRECT SOREN]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Magic thickens your bones, fills your mouth with sweet-tasting smoke--you keep running, keep fighting the infestation of power that does not belong, but there is no hope. Your eyes glaze over, twin headaches birthing horns made of solid night. You are lost and broken and monstrous, and as hunger fogs over your wit, you use your last breath of conscience to pray your mother grants you mercy when [[you fall bound and muzzled at her feet.->BAD END A RESTART]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//That's two in a row--what wit! It shows! Shall we move it along to riddle number three, or do my bird and fawn need a heartbeat to breathe?//] [[<a>"The third riddle, please. We're ready."->Riddle 3 Apothecarist C C]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Oh no, little bird--your answer is wrong. May these next two be perfect, else you'll sing your swan song[[<a>...->Riddle 3 Apothecarist C I]]"//] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["I...I'm at a loss, Willa. I'm sorry."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Then I guess we forfeit."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Oh no, little fawn--you truly don't know? May these next two be perfect, lest you be left to the bitter snow[[<a>...->Riddle 3 Apothecarist C I]]"//] ]

(font:"Garamond")[What binding thread spools bitter red, and shackles man ‘til one is dead? [[<a>“Blood.”->Riddle 3 Apothecarist C I INCORRECT]] [[<a>“Anger.”->Riddle 3 Apothecarist C I INCORRECT]] [[<a>“The wall.”->Riddle 3 Apothecarist C I CORRECT]] [[<a>You don’t know—ask Soren.->Riddle 3 Apothecarist C I SOREN CORRECT]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[What binding thread spools bitter red, and shackles man ‘til one is dead? [[<a>“Blood.”->Riddle 3 Apothecarist C C INCORRECT]] [[<a>“Anger.”->Riddle 3 Apothecarist C C INCORRECT]] [[<a>“The wall.”->Riddle 3 Apothecarist C C CORRECT]] [[<a>You don’t know—ask Soren.->Riddle 3 Apothecarist C C SOREN CORRECT]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Oh no, little bird--your answer is wrong. May this last one be perfect, else you'll sing your swan song[[<a>...->Riddle 4 Apothecarist C C I]]"// ] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"That's three! You're done! My challenge is won! Now, tell me--which shall return to your human abode, and which shall pass into realms unknown?"//] You want to relish in your victory, to whoop and cheer and shout to the Sisters that you're off to find your brothers, but you know this battle is not truly over. [[<a>"Do we really get to choose?"->C5 Apothecarist ENDGAME 1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["It's the wall, isn't it? Because of the color?"] Soren says, and your eyes bug out. That sounds ridiculous. But the Unfaced sways joyously, its myelin sinews glittering with orange light. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"That's three! You're done! My challenge is won! Now, tell me--which shall return to your human abode, and which shall pass through into realms unknown?"//] You want to relish in your victory, to whoop and cheer and shout to the Sisters that you're off to find your brothers, but you know this battle is not truly over. [[<a>"Do we really get to choose?"->C5 Apothecarist ENDGAME 1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"I am no judge to deem one more worthy than the other. It seems you know each other quite well--you'd do best to sort it out yourselves."//] "Wait," you say. Soren gives you a quizzical look, until you realize that moreso, he's sad. Stupid boy. He was probably all prepared to sacrifice himself for you. Drafted a speech in his head while you solved the riddles. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Yes, little bird?"//] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["You said you don't know what happens when you send us back. But I know. I can tell you."] The Unfaced flares with new colors. Yellows and oranges. Intrigue. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Go on, then. Tell me. It will be the first time I've chosen to learn such things. Really, I don't care much for my Hunters once I've let them go."//] [[<a>"Perhaps that will change."->C5 Apothecarist ENDGAME 2]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//That which heals, in same measure destroys—name me now this fear of wandering girls and boys.//] [[<a>“A scalpel.”->Riddle 4 Apothecarist C C I INCORRECT]] [[<a>“A Weeping Moon flower."->Riddle 4 Apothecarist C C I CORRECT]] [[<a>“Magic.”->Riddle 4 Apothecarist C C I INCORRECT]] [[<a>You don’t know—ask Soren.->Riddle 4 Apothecarist C C I INCORRECT SOREN]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The Unfaced seems to wilt. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Little ones, I am weeping--you have failed, you have lost, I must return you now to your walled world's keeping."//] (text-style:"bold")["What do you mean? Can't we try again?"] Soren exclaims. The Unfaced unwinds its branches from your body, but the feeling of them lingers, driving like needles beneath your skin. Remaking you, bone by bone, stitch by stitch. You are so full of untameable energy, you don't know whether to run or retch. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Go home! Be free! Come next winter, I hope we meet!"//] Soren grabs your hand, and you run. [[<a>You //fail.//->BAD END A]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The Unfaced sways joyously, its myelin sinews glittering with orange light. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Yes, yes! Solve one more riddle, and you've passed my test!"//] You are shivering, now, and hardly from the cold--you are so close to success. [[<a>"All right, Unfaced--what's the final riddle?"->Riddle 4 Apothecarist C C I]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["It's the wall, isn't it? Because of the color?"] Soren says, and your eyes bug out. That sounds ridiculous. But the Unfaced sways joyously, its myelin sinews glittering with orange light. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Yes, yes! Solve one more riddle, and you've passed my test!"//] You are shivering, now, and hardly from the cold--you are so close to success. [[<a>"All right, Unfaced--what's the final riddle?"->Riddle 4 Apothecarist C C I]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The Unfaced seems to wilt. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Little ones, I am weeping--you have failed, you have lost, I must return you now to your walled world's keeping."//] ["What do you mean? Can't we try again?"] Soren exclaims. The Unfaced unwinds his branches from your body, but the feeling of them lingers, driving like needles beneath your skin. Remaking you, bone by bone, stitch by stitch. You are so full of untameable energy, you don't know whether to run or retch. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Go home! Be free! Come next winter, I hope we meet!"//] Soren grabs your hand, and you run. [[<a>You //fail.//->BAD END A]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Yes, yes! Solve one more riddle, and you've passed my test!"//] You are shivering, now, and hardly from the cold--you are so close to the end. [[<a>"All right, Unfaced--what's the final riddle?"->Riddle 4 Apothecarist I C C]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")["It's the wall, isn't it? Because of the color?"] Soren says, and your eyes bug out. That sounds ridiculous. But the Unfaced sways joyously, its myelin sinews glittering with orange light. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Yes, yes! Solve one more riddle, and you've passed my test!"//] You are shivering, now, and hardly from the cold--you are so close to success. [[<a>"All right, Unfaced--what's the final riddle?"->Riddle 4 Apothecarist I C C]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//That which heals, in same measure destroys—name me now this fear of wandering girls and boys.//] [[<a>“A scalpel.”->Riddle 4 Apothecarist I C C INCORRECT]] [[<a>“A Weeping Moon flower."->Riddle 4 Apothecarist I C C CORRECT]] [[<a>“Magic.”->Riddle 4 Apothecarist I C C INCORRECT]] [[<a>You don’t know—ask Soren.->Riddle 4 Apothecarist I C C INCORRECT SOREN]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold")["Is it...magic?"] Soren guesses. The Unfaced seems to wilt. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Little ones, I am weeping--you have failed, you have lost, I must return you now to your walled world's keeping."//] (text-style:"bold")["What do you mean? Can't we try again?"] Soren exclaims. The Unfaced unwinds his branches from your body, but the feeling of them lingers, driving like needles beneath your skin. Remaking you, bone by bone, stitch by stitch. You are so full of untameable energy, you don't know whether to run or retch. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Go home! Be free! Come next winter, I hope we meet!"//] Soren grabs your hand, and you run. [[<a>You //fail.//->BAD END A]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The Unfaced seems to wilt. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Little ones, I am weeping--you have failed, you have lost, I must return you now to your walled world's keeping."//] ["What do you mean? Can't we try again?"] Soren exclaims. The Unfaced unwinds his branches from your body, but the feeling of them lingers, driving like needles beneath your skin. Remaking you, bone by bone, stitch by stitch. You are so full of untameable energy, you don't know whether to run or retch. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Go home! Be free! Come next winter, I hope we meet!"//] Soren grabs your hand, and you run. [[<a>You //fail.//->BAD END A]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"That's three! You're done! My challenge is won! Now, tell me--which shall return to your human abode, and which shall pass into realms unknown?"//] You want to relish in your victory, to whoop and cheer and shout to the Sisters that you're off to find your brothers, but you know this battle is not truly over.[[<a>"Do we really get to choose?"->C5 Apothecarist ENDGAME 1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Soren lowers his lance. The buck comes around you slowly, running its ample nose over your ears and shoulders. The cold has lost its hold on you; you shiver only at the closeness of such a large, untamed creature, the way it sees you as something just as wild. When it returns to path ahead, you decide you'll wait, let the buck have its space, but then it is the buck that is waiting, his head tilted back in question. (text-style:"bold")["Willa? What should we do?"] The jewellike protrusions on the buck's neck glimmer a message meant only for you. [[<a>"I think it wants us to follow it."->C5 Apothecarist 16-A1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The buck does not lead you astray. Your path trails clear through the woods, and the closer you get to the Curse, the more color defies the night--the forest is stained glass and liquid moonlight, opals and pearls bleeding from the trees like sap. (text-style: "bold")["No wonder they've never let a mapmaker out here,"] Soren comments. (text-style: "bold")["They'd come home richer than the king."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["But why?"] you ask. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Why hide this?"] (text-style: "bold")["Maybe it's not meant to be taken."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["And maybe it belongs to someone else."] After a moment, the buck stops and brays at something in the middle distance. White blooms where there was before a bronzy darkness, twisting a column of salt and sinew that is at once a great, branching tree and [[<a>a spine.->C5 Apothecarist 17-1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[A skein of silver-white light surges forth like an arrow, lancing the buck through its muscled chest. The jewels on its neck flash a chaos of overbright color as it topples, head bowed and legs breaking under its weight. You crash to your knees, your mouth locked open in a gasp you cannot take. //What have I done?// The buck flakes off into ashes that gather and curve with the snow, forming a charred, gauzy wraith that lingers in the air, waiting. Soren crouches beside you, one hand on your shoulder, and you are too awed to push him away. (text-style:"bold")["Do you think that's--"] [[<a>"I think it wants us to follow it."->C5 Apothecarist 16-B2]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The wraith does not lead you astray. Your path trails clear through the woods, and the closer you get to the Curse, the more color defies the night--the forest is stained glass and liquid moonlight, opals and pearls bleeding from the trees like sap. (text-style: "bold")["No wonder they've never let a mapmaker out here,"] Soren comments. (text-style: "bold")["They'd come home richer than the king."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["But why?"] you ask. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Why hide this?"] (text-style: "bold")["Maybe it's not meant to be taken."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["And maybe it belongs to someone else."] After a moment, the wraith stops and dithers. White blooms from the bronzy darkness behind it, twisting a column of salt and sinew that is at once a great, branching tree and [[<a>a spine.->C5 Apothecarist 17-1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[[[<a>Your guide disappears within...->C5 Apothecarist 17-2]]]

(font:"Garamond")[[[<a>...and the spine-tree w a k e s.->C5 Apothecarist 17-3]]]

(font:"Garamond")[You tense from head to toe as the tree uproots itself, splits its trunk into legs and braids eight-fingered hands from its branches. It has no eyes, no mouth--only a smooth, colorless plane where a face should be. The Unfaced, keeper of the Curse, your brothers' killer, leans down and [[<a>wraps you in its arms.->C5 Apothecarist 17-4]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"What have we here? A little bird?"//] it asks as it sighs its body towards you, its voice layered and genderless and ancient. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"And a little fawn? How tender. How brave. Two more tiny Hunters, lost in a forest where they should be prey."//] Soren quivers as a thin, wormlike branch snakes behind his ear. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"At ease, little fawn. You may keep your blades."//] (text-style: "bold")["Y-you have no eyes. How can you see me?"] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"And I have no mouth, yet you hear me speak. Such arguments mean nothing at the joint where two worlds meet."//] You step forward, your axe ready at your side. [[<a>"That's why we're here. Because they do not meet. Because there is a Curse that keeps us apart, and you are the root of it."->C5 Apothecarist 17-5]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"You do not accuse me lightly, little bird--but if you've come to fight me, I'm afraid those piddly blades will not suffice."//] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Then what will?"] The Unfaced curls a tighter grip around your body. Where the branches touch you, you feel a warmth beneath your skin. You feel...full. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Words. Wits. Knowledge. Sense. If such a proposition leaves you on the fence, I am obliged to set you free."//] [[<a>"So what? A riddle?"->C5 Apothecarist 17-6A]] [[<a>"What happens if you let us go?"->C5 Apothecarist 17-6B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Four riddles, to be precise. Three right, and one may pass the boundary here--any less, and I turn you back to your little walled kingdom. Are we clear?"//] You gasp. //One may pass//--if your brothers never came home, never turned into the monster, that means they could've gone beyond the Curse, into the other realms. They could still be alive. Your heart thunders, and your magic echoes it, stronger and brighter than you've ever felt it before. It is not only magic, you realize. It is hope. (text-style: "bold")["Willa?"] Soren looks at you with a hundred questions in his eyes. You cannot fathom answering them, now. Not when only four riddles stand between you and the truth of your brothers' fates. You turn back to the beast, staring into the empty facet where his face should be. Seeing yourself in the reflection, a shadow on fire in the longest of nights. [[<a>"Give us the riddles, Unfaced. We're ready."->Riddle 1 Apothecarist]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"I know only what I choose to, little bird. But if you'd like to get to the other side, I have four simple riddles to peddle. Three right, and one may pass the boundary here--any less, and I turn you back to your little walled kingdom. Are we clear?"//] You gasp. //One may pass//--if your brothers never came home, never turned into the monster, that means they could've gone beyond the Curse, into other realms. They could still be alive. Your heart thunders, and your magic echoes it, stronger and brighter than you've ever felt it before. It is not only magic, you realize. It is hope. (text-style: "bold")["Willa?"] Soren looks at you with a hundred questions in his eyes. You cannot fathom answering them, now. Not when only four riddles stand between you and the truth of your brothers' fates. You turn back to the beast, staring into the empty facet where his face should be. Seeing yourself in the reflection, a shadow on fire in the longest of nights. [[<a>"Give us the riddles, Unfaced. We're ready."->Riddle 1 Apothecarist]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-colour:"red") + (text-style:"bold")[GAME OVER.] [[Restart Final Battle?->Riddle 1 Apothecarist]] [[Restart Chapter Five?->Chapter Five: The Hunt A]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The details come as your mother would tell them--methodical and even-paced, expunged of all emotion you can bear to part with. When you've finished your story, laying all your secrets bare at the Unfaced's feet, something wet sloshes at yours. Water, warm and filmed in curls of salt, flows down the Unfaced's body and into the spaces between its roots. "What's happening?" Soren asks. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"I'm crying, little fawn,"//] it answers. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"I care. I've cared along, I fear. Oh, I may just drown this world in my grief!"//] The water rises to your shins. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Don't! Don't do that. You have to let us break the Curse."] Further confusion colors Soren's face. "Willa, what do we--?" [[<a>"We have to kill it, Soren. Swiftly and gently. It is helpless, and we will give it peace."->C5 Apothecarist ENDGAME 3]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"You accuse me again! And when I'm weeping, no less. Kill me, and another tree will take my place--per the caster's law, the barrier must be shattered on its outward face."//] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Then let us both through,"] you say. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["And when we return, the Curse will be broken, and you, too, will be free."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"The law..."//] [[<a>"I do not know your laws--but if you let us through, Unfaced, you will not have to grieve us."->C5 Apothecarist ENDGAME 4]]]

(font:"Garamond")[At once, the Unfaced's colors fade, going dark and still as the night. Then it splits itself down the middle and twists into an archway, just wide enough for you and Soren to walk through side-by-side. Beneath it glows the sun and green of another world. You offer your hand to Soren, and he takes it, a close-lipped smile lighting his face. (text-style: "bold")["Let's go find your brothers,"] he says. You squeeze his hand. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["Let's go break this Curse."] You walk together, letting a new sun warm your face, and the past seals behind you like a scar. [[<a>END OF ACT ONE->C5 Apothecarist ENDGAME FINAL]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[''THE SOLSTICE HUNTERS'' //ACT ONE - AEVERDAM// A TWINE GAME BY ERIN ELISE CHRISTOPHER ACT TWO - THE SUN COMING SUMMER 2021 [[Choose a different path?->TSH START]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["You have a brother, too, right?"] you ask, and Soren nods. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Did he say goodbye to you?"] A crescent wind sweeps in from the west, pelting your cheeks with snow. You both shiver. (text-style: "bold")["In his own way,"] Soren answers. (text-style: "bold")["Micah's a lot like my father in that he's not one for sentiment."] [[<m>"Where was your mother, today?"->C5 Mapmaker 14-3A]] [[<m>"My brother Adam was like that. I used to think he was a bully, but my mother explained he was just...bad at feelings."->C5 Mapmaker 14-3B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Night slams down on the earth, and the trees give their branches to the sky. The path before you is dark and infinite and ravenous, what little light gleams from Soren's lantern stolen quickly by the falling snow. The shadows live, and you take heavy steps to hide their breaths. (text-style: "bold")["I wish we had a map,"] Soren mutters. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Even mapmakers aren't allowed outside the wall,"] you say. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["I would know--my father's been trying for years."] (text-style: "bold")["Ha! You wouldn't believe the things we hear in guard training,"] he replies. (text-style: "bold")["I really was supposed to kill you when--"] He doesn't finish his sentence--he freezes, throwing an arm in front of your chest. (text-style: "bold")["Shh."] Something crosses the edge of the lantern's glow. Once, then again. [[<m>Ready your axe and walk towards it.->C5 Mapmaker 15-1A]] [[<m>Stay put.->C5 Mapmaker 15-1B]]]

(font:"Garamond")[Soren's teeth clack together when he laughs. (text-style: "bold")["Bad at feelings, huh? Sounds like it runs in the family."] You furrow your brow. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["You know most of my brothers weren't mine by blood, don't you?"] (text-style: "bold")["I don't see how that matters."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Their birth-parents were killed in the plague twenty years ago. My parents adopted them, gave them a life they might've never had. And look what happened to them."] (text-style: "bold")["So we'll honor their lives by breaking this Curse."] You nod, your jaw tensing. (text-colour:"#ccffd4")[//Hope, Willa.//] You let it burn within you, and be it a blessing or Curse to break, [[<m>you will not deny your brother's last request.->C5 Mapmaker 14-2B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Soren turns his eyes to the path, his boots leaving shallow ghosts in the snow. (text-style: "bold")["She passed when I was just a kid, not two years after Emmy and Meadow were born."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Oh. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked."] (text-style: "bold")["There's no need for condolences, Willa. You know grief just as well."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["You don't have to be so kind to me. I haven't exactly been the nicest to you."] (text-style: "bold")["Look at it this way: if we're really going to die the way you say, why would I spend the last hours of my life in bitterness?"] You do not have an answer for him, though you suppose it is your own bitterness that is stopping you, calcified after thirteen years of sending your brothers down this same final path. (text-colour:"#ccffd4")[//Hope, Willa.//] You let it burn within you, and be the challenge you face a blessing or Curse, [[<m>you will not deny your brother's last request.->C5 Mapmaker 14-2B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[You tiptoe forward and temper your breath, the raven's beak a cool weight at your wrist. You have stilled starving wolves with this axe--you will not flinch at whatever crosses you, now. Cloven hooves pad into the light, and Soren lifts the lantern. The buck is made of starlight. At least, it seems that way, with the snow gleaming on its pale fur. Something else glints along the tendons of its neck, blue and smooth like a mirror, no less a part of it than the antlers that twist out of its head. Your axe is a shard of fire in its eyes. It kicks at the earth and growls, a low, guttural sound. When it kicks a second time, it bows its head, baring the luminous spikes of its antlers. Soren calls your name, but his voice is lost in the [[<m>clash of the beak->C5 Mapmaker 16-B1]] against its notch. ]

(font:"Garamond")[You dig your heels into the snow and temper your breath, the raven beak a cool weight at your wrist. You have stilled starving wolves with this axe--you will not flinch at whatever approaches you, now. Cloven hooves pad into the light, and Soren lifts the lantern. The buck is made of starlight. At least, it seems that way, with the snow gleaming on its pale fur. Something else glints along the tendons of its neck, blue and smooth like a mirror, no less a part of it than the antlers that twist out of its head. Soren tips his lance towards it, but you grab the weapon by the shaft to stop him. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Easy, Soren,"] you whisper. [[<m>//We are not that kind of Hunter.//->C5 Mapmaker 16-A]]]

(font:"Garamond")[A skein of silver-white light surges forth like an arrow, lancing the buck through its muscled chest. The jewels on its neck flash a chaos of overbright color as it topples, head bowed and legs breaking under its weight. You crash to your knees, your mouth locked open in a gasp you cannot take. //What have I done?// The buck flakes off into ashes that gather and curve with the snow, forming a charred, gauzy wraith that lingers in the air, waiting. Soren crouches beside you, one hand on your shoulder, and you are too awed to push him away. (text-style:"bold")["Do you think that's--"] [[<m>"I think it wants us to follow it."->C5 Mapmaker 16-B2]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Soren lowers his lance. The buck comes around you slowly, running its ample nose over your ears and shoulders. The cold has lost its hold on you; you shiver only at the closeness of such a large, untamed creature, the way it sees you as something just as wild. When it returns to path ahead, you decide you'll wait, let the buck have its space, but then it is the buck that is waiting, his head tilted back in question. (text-style:"bold")["Willa? What should we do?"] The jewellike protrusions on the buck's neck glimmer a message meant only for you. [[<m>"I think it wants us to follow it."->C5 Mapmaker 16-A1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The buck does not lead you astray. Your path trails clear through the woods, and the closer you get to the Curse, the more color defies the night--the forest is stained glass and liquid moonlight, opals and pearls bleeding from the trees like sap. (text-style: "bold")["No wonder they've never let a mapmaker out here,"] Soren comments. (text-style: "bold")["They'd come home richer than the king."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["But why?"] you ask. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Why hide this?"] (text-style: "bold")["Maybe it's not meant to be taken."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["And maybe it belongs to someone else."] After a moment, the buck stops and brays at something in the middle distance. White blooms where there was before a bronzy darkness, twisting a column of salt and sinew that is at once a great, branching tree and [[<m>a spine.->C5 Mapmaker 17-1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The wraith does not lead you astray. Your path trails clear through the woods, and the closer you get to the Curse, the more color defies the night--the forest is stained glass and liquid moonlight, opals and pearls bleeding from the trees like sap. (text-style: "bold")["No wonder they've never let a mapmaker out here,"] Soren comments. (text-style: "bold")["They'd come home richer than the king."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["But why?"] you ask. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Why hide this?"] (text-style: "bold")["Maybe it's not meant to be taken."] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["And maybe it belongs to someone else."] After a moment, the wraith stops and dithers. White blooms from the bronzy darkness behind it, twisting a column of salt and sinew that is at once a great, branching tree and [[<m>a spine.->C5 Mapmaker 17-1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[[[<m>Your guide disappears within...->C5 Mapmaker 17-2]]]

(font:"Garamond")[[[<m>...and the spine-tree w a k e s.->C5 Mapmaker 17-3]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"What have we here? A little bird?"//] it asks as it sighs its body towards you, its voice layered and genderless and ancient. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"And a little fawn? How tender. How brave. Two more tiny Hunters, lost in a forest where they should be prey."//] Soren quivers as a thin, wormlike branch snakes behind his ear. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"At ease, little fawn. You may keep your blades."//] (text-style: "bold")["Y-you have no eyes. How can you see me?"] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"And I have no mouth, yet you hear me speak. Such arguments mean nothing at the joint where two worlds meet."//] You step forward, your axe ready at your side. [[<m>"That's why we're here. Because they do not meet. Because there is a Curse that keeps us apart, and you are the root of it."->C5 Mapmaker 17-5]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"You do not accuse me lightly, little bird--but if you've come to fight me, I'm afraid those piddly blades will not suffice."//] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Then what will?"] The Unfaced curls a tighter grip around your body. Where the branches touch you, you feel a warmth beneath your skin. You feel...full. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Words. Wits. Knowledge. Sense. If such a proposition leaves you on the fence, I am obliged to set you free."//] [[<m>"So what? A riddle?"->C5 Mapmaker 17-6A]] [[<m>"What happens if you let us go?"->C5 Mapmaker 17-6B]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Four riddles, to be precise. Three right, and one may pass the boundary here--any less, and I turn you back to your little walled kingdom. Are we clear?"//] You gasp. //One may pass//--if your brothers never came home, never turned into the monster, that means they could've gone beyond the Curse, into the other realms. They could still be alive. Your heart thunders, and yourhope echoes it, stronger and brighter than you've ever felt it before. It is not only hope, you realize. It is power. (text-style: "bold")["Willa?"] Soren looks at you with a hundred questions in his eyes. You cannot fathom answering them, now. Not when only four riddles stand between you and the truth of your brothers' fates. You turn back to the beast, staring into the empty facet where his face should be. Seeing yourself in the reflection, a shadow on fire in the longest of nights. [[<m>"Give us the riddles, Unfaced. We're ready."->Riddle 1 Mapmaker]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"I know only what I choose to, little bird. But if you'd like to get to the other side, I have four simple riddles to peddle. Three right, and one may pass the boundary here--any less, and I turn you back to your little walled kingdom. Are we clear?"//] You gasp. //One may pass//--if your brothers never came home, never turned into the monster, that means they could've gone beyond the Curse, into other realms. They could still be alive. Your heart thunders, and your hope echoes it, stronger and brighter than you've ever felt it before. It is not only hope, you realize. It is power. (text-style: "bold")["Willa?"] Soren looks at you with a hundred questions in his eyes. You cannot fathom answering them, now. Not when only four riddles stand between you and the truth of your brothers' fates. You turn back to the beast, staring into the empty facet where his face should be. Seeing yourself in the reflection, a shadow on fire in the longest of nights. [[<m>"Give us the riddles, Unfaced. We're ready."->Riddle 1 Mapmaker]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Of all the din in your mundane world, one restless sound will always wake: provide me its name, or else your valiant quest forsake."//] [[“The crying of a baby.”->Riddle 1 Mapmaker INCORRECT]] [[“The howling of a wolf.”->Riddle 1 Mapmaker INCORRECT]] [[“The tolling of a bell.”->Riddle 1 Mapmaker CORRECT]] [[“You don’t know—ask Soren.”->Riddle 1 Mapmaker SOREN INCORRECT]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Oh no, little bird--your answer is wrong. May these next three be perfect, else you'll sing your swan song[[<m>...->Riddle 2 Mapmaker I]]"// ]]

(font:"Garamond")[To your relief, Soren seems confident. (text-style:"bold")["It's a baby's cry, I'm sure of it."] he says. (text-style:"bold")["My sisters used to cry all night."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Yes, little fawn--but even human babes sleep when the sun has yet to dawn."//] (text-style:"bold")["Wait--I'm wrong?"] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"I'm afraid that is the case. One more strike, and you'll be wandering back to your sad, tiny human place..."//] [[<m>"Give us the next riddle, then."->->Riddle 2 Mapmaker I]]]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//Forevermore, this mirror shines, bar some sun-forged blade to run it dry.// ] [[<m>“The Curse.”->Riddle 2 Mapmaker I INCORRECT]] [[<m>“Silver.”->Riddle 2 Mapmaker I INCORRECT]] [[<m>“A lake.” ->Riddle 2 Mapmaker I CORRECT]] [[<m>You don't know--ask Soren.->Riddle 2 Mapmaker I INCORRECT SOREN]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Is it the Curse?"] Soren guesses. The Unfaced seems to wilt. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Little ones, I am weeping--you have failed, you have lost, I must return you now to your walled world's keeping."//] (text-style:"bold")["What do you mean? Can't we try again?"] Soren exclaims. The Unfaced unwinds his branches from your body, but the feeling of them lingers, driving like needles beneath your skin. Remaking you, bone by bone, stitch by stitch. You are so full of untameable energy, you don't know whether to run or retch. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Go home! Be free! Come next winter, I hope we meet!"//] Soren grabs your hand, and you run. [[<m>You //fail.//->BAD END M]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"What binding thread spools bitter red, and shackles man ‘til one is dead?"//] [[<m>“Blood.”->Riddle 3 Mapmaker I C INCORRECT]] [[<m>“Anger.”->Riddle 3 Mapmaker I C INCORRECT]] [[<m>“The wall.”->Riddle 3 Mapmaker I C CORRECT]] [[<m>You don’t know—ask Soren.->Riddle 3 Mapmaker I C CORRECT SOREN]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//Forevermore, this mirror shines, bar some sun-forged blade to run it dry.// ] [[“The Curse.”->Riddle 2 Mapmaker C INCORRECT]] [[“Silver.”->Riddle 2 Mapmaker C INCORRECT]] [[“A lake.” ->Riddle 2 Mapmaker C CORRECT]] [[You don't know--ask Soren.->Riddle 2 Mapmaker C INCORRECT SOREN]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//That's two in a row--what wit! It shows! Shall we move it along to riddle number three, or do my bird and fawn need a heartbeat to breathe?//] [[<m>"The third riddle. We're ready."->Riddle 3 Mapmaker C C]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["Is it the Curse?"] Soren guesses. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Oh no, little fawn--your answer is wrong. May these next two be perfect, else you'll sing your swan song[[<m>...->Riddle 3 Mapmaker C I]]"//] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"What binding thread spools bitter red, and shackles man ‘til one is dead?"//] [[<m>“Blood.”->Riddle 3 Mapmaker C C INCORRECT]] [[<m>“Anger.”->Riddle 3 Mapmaker C C INCORRECT]] [[<m>“The wall.”->Riddle 3 Mapmaker C C CORRECT]] [[<m>You don’t know—ask Soren.->Riddle 3 Mapmaker C C CORRECT SOREN]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"What binding thread spools bitter red, and shackles man ‘til one is dead?"//] [[<m>“Blood.”->Riddle 3 Mapmaker C I INCORRECT]] [[<m>“Anger.”->Riddle 3 Mapmaker C I INCORRECT]] [[<m>“The wall.”->Riddle 3 Mapmaker C I CORRECT]] [[<m>You don’t know—ask Soren.->Riddle 3 Mapmaker C I CORRECT SOREN]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Yes, yes! Solve one more riddle, and you've passed my test!"//] You are shivering, now, and hardly from the cold--you are so close to the end. [[<m>"All right, Unfaced--what's the final riddle?"->Riddle 4 Mapmaker I C C]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")["It's the wall, isn't it? Because of the color?"] Soren says, and your eyes bug out. That sounds ridiculous. But the Unfaced sways joyously, its myelin sinews glittering with orange light. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Yes, yes! Solve one more riddle, and you've passed my test!"//] You are shivering, now, and hardly from the cold--you are so close to success. [[<m>"All right, Unfaced--what's the final riddle?"->Riddle 4 Mapmaker I C C]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"That's three! You're done! My challenge is won! Now, tell me--which shall return to your human abode, and which shall pass through into realms unknown?"//] You want to feel victorious, to whoop and cheer and shout to the sky that you're off to find your brothers, but you know this battle is not truly won. [[<m>"Do we really get to choose?"->C5 Mapmaker ENDGAME 1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["It's the wall, isn't it? Because of the color?"] Soren says, and your eyes bug out. That sounds ridiculous. But the Unfaced sways joyously, its myelin sinews glittering with orange light. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"That's three! You're done! My challenge is won! Now, tell me--which shall return to your human abode, and which shall pass through into realms unknown?"//] You want to feel victorious, to whoop and cheer and shout to the sky that you're off to find your brothers, but you know this battle is not truly won. [[<m>"Do we really get to choose?"->C5 Mapmaker ENDGAME 1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")[The Unfaced sways joyously, its myelin sinews glittering with orange light. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Yes, yes! Solve one more riddle, and you've passed my test!"//] You are shivering, now, and hardly from the cold--you are so close to success. [[<m>"All right, Unfaced--what's the final riddle?"->Riddle 4 Mapmaker C C I]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold")["It's the wall, isn't it? Because of the color?"] Soren says, and your eyes bug out. That sounds ridiculous. But the Unfaced sways joyously, its myelin sinews glittering with orange light. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Yes, yes! Solve one more riddle, and you've passed my test!"//] You are shivering, now, and hardly from the cold--you are so close to success. [[<m>"All right, Unfaced--what's the final riddle?"->Riddle 4 Mapmaker C C I]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//That which heals, in same measure destroys—name me now this fear of wandering girls and boys.//] [[<m>“A scalpel.”->Riddle 4 Mapmaker I C C INCORRECT]] [[<m>“A Weeping Moon flower."->Riddle 4 Mapmaker I C C CORRECT]] [[<m>“Magic.”->Riddle 4 Mapmaker I C C INCORRECT]] [[<m>You don’t know—ask Soren.->Riddle 4 Mapmaker I C C INCORRECT SOREN]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//That which heals, in same measure destroys—name me now this fear of wandering girls and boys.//] [[<m>“A scalpel.”->Riddle 4 Mapmaker C C I INCORRECT]] [[<m>“A Weeping Moon flower."->Riddle 4 Mapmaker C C I CORRECT]] [[<m>“Magic.”->Riddle 4 Mapmaker C C I INCORRECT]] [[<m>You don’t know—ask Soren.->Riddle 4 Mapmaker C C I INCORRECT SOREN]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"I am no judge to deem one more worthy than the other. It seems you know each other quite well--you'd do best to sort it out yourselves."//] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Wait,"] you say. Soren gives you a quizzical look, until you realize that moreso, he's sad. Stupid boy. He was probably all prepared to sacrifice himself for you. Drafted a speech in his head while you solved the riddles. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Yes, little bird?"//] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["You said you don't know what happens when you send us back. But I know. I can tell you."] The Unfaced flares with new colors. Yellows and oranges. Intrigue. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Go on, then. Tell me. It will be the first time I've chosen to learn such things. Really, I don't care much for my Hunters once I've let them go."//] [[<m>"Perhaps that will change."->C5 Mapmaker ENDGAME 2]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The Unfaced seems to wilt. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Little ones, I am weeping--you have failed, you have lost, I must return you now to your walled world's keeping."//] ["What do you mean? Can't we try again?"] Soren exclaims. The Unfaced unwinds his branches from your body, but the feeling of them lingers, driving like needles beneath your skin. Remaking you, bone by bone, stitch by stitch. You are so full of untameable energy, you don't know whether to run or retch. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Go home! Be free! Come next winter, I hope we meet!"//] Soren grabs your hand, and you run. [[<m>You //fail.//->BAD END M]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"That's three! You're done! My challenge is won! Now, tell me--which shall return to your human abode, and which shall pass into realms unknown?"//] You want to relish in your victory, to whoop and cheer and shout to the Sisters that you're off to find your brothers, but you know this battle is not truly over.[[<m>"Do we really get to choose?"->C5 Mapmaker ENDGAME 1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The Unfaced seems to wilt. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Little ones, I am weeping--you have failed, you have lost, I must return you now to your walled world's keeping."//] ["What do you mean? Can't we try again?"] Soren exclaims. The Unfaced unwinds his branches from your body, but the feeling of them lingers, driving like needles beneath your skin. Remaking you, bone by bone, stitch by stitch. You are so full of untameable energy, you don't know whether to run or retch. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"Go home! Be free! Come next winter, I hope we meet!"//] Soren grabs your hand, and you run. [[<m>You //fail.//->BAD END M]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"That's three! You're done! My challenge is won! Now, tell me--which shall return to your human abode, and which shall pass into realms unknown?"//] You want to relish in your victory, to whoop and cheer and shout to the Sisters that you're off to find your brothers, but you know this battle is not truly over.[[<m>"Do we really get to choose?"->C5 Mapmaker ENDGAME 1]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[At last, a familiar hand grabs you. Your mother's. She crushes you in her arms, bending in to guard you from the crowd. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I'm sorry, Mother,"] you tell her, because it is all you can think to say. (text-style:"bold")["Come back to me,"] she whispers. (text-style:"bold")["Please, Willa."] And you will. As either monster or ghost, [[<a>you will come home.->Chapter Five: The Hunt A]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The Oracle orders you down from the dais, and the celebration resumes. You shove your way between bodies, searching for anything that looks like a way out. Then a flicker of jewels steals your gaze. There is Annie, her face ablaze with fury and tears sheening on her skin. You reach for her, desperate for something to anchor you in the raucous swell of the crowd, but she steps back, lets herself disappear. Somehow, [[<m>her rejection aches more than the Oracle's sentence.->C4 Mapmaker 11]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[At last, a familiar hand grabs you. Your father's. She crushes you in her arms, bending in to guard you from the crowd. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#e9b2df")["I'm sorry, Father,"] you tell him, because it is all you can think to say. (text-style:"bold")["Come back to me,"] he whispers. (text-style:"bold")["Please, Willa."] And you will. Be you monster or memory, [[<m>you will come home.->Chapter Five: The Hunt M]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The money is just where you left it, the map order untouched and unseen. After your father goes to bed, you slip into the shop to finish the work, paining to keep any ink bottles from clinking together. But after a while, when your hand grows sore from drawing trees, you summon your magic, a skein of dust-mote stars that orbits your fingers. A strange feeling wells within you, as if the burst from the axe today has rebraided your nerves. If this is the power the Oracle speaks of, [[<m>you are not sure you are ready for it.->Chapter Four: The Solstice M]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[The details come as your father would tell them--fervent and meandering and not quite in order, but all the parts are there. When you've finished your story, laying all your secrets bare at the Unfaced's feet, something wet sloshes at yours. Water, warm and filmed in curls of salt, flows down the Unfaced's body and into the spaces between its roots. "What's happening?" Soren asks. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"I'm crying, little fawn,"//] it answers. (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"I care. I've cared along, I fear. Oh, I may just drown this world in my grief!"//] The water rises to your shins. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Don't! Don't do that. You have to let us break the Curse."] Further confusion colors Soren's face. "Willa, what do we--?" [[<m>"We have to kill it, Soren. That is the way to break the Curse."->C5 Mapmaker ENDGAME 3]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[(text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"You accuse me again! And when I'm weeping, no less. Kill me, and another tree will take my place--per the caster's law, the barrier must be shattered on its outward face."//] (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Then let us both through,"] you say. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["And when we return, the Curse will be broken, and you, too, will be free."] (text-style:"bold") + (text-colour: "#ABD7F7")[//"The law..."//] [[<m>"I do not know your laws--but if you let us through, Unfaced, you will not have to grieve us."->C5 Mapmaker ENDGAME 4]]]

(font:"Garamond")[At once, the Unfaced's colors fade, going dark and still as the night. Then it splits itself down the middle and twists into an archway, just wide enough for you and Soren to walk through side-by-side. Beneath it glows the sun and green of another world. You offer your hand to Soren, and he takes it, a close-lipped smile lighting his face. (text-style: "bold")["Let's go find your brothers,"] he says. You squeeze his hand. (text-style: "bold") + (text-colour:"#ccffd4")["Let's go break this Curse."] You walk together, letting a new sun warm your face, and the past seals behind you like a scar. [[<m>END OF ACT ONE->C5 Apothecarist ENDGAME FINAL]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[Magic thickens your bones, fills your mouth with sweet-tasting smoke--you keep running, keep fighting the infestation of power that does not belong, but there is no hope. Your eyes glaze over, twin headaches birthing horns made of solid night. You are lost and broken and monstrous, and as hunger fogs over your wit, you use your last breath of conscience to pray your mother grants you mercy when [[<m>you fall bound and muzzled at her feet.->BAD END M RESTART]] ]

(font:"Garamond")[ (text-colour:"red") + (text-style:"bold")[GAME OVER.] [[<m>Restart Final Battle?->Riddle 1 Mapmaker]] [[<m>Restart Chapter Five?->Chapter Five: The Hunt M]] ]