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Chapter Text

     For whatever reason, Norton Campbell was outside of the Manor. 

     He knew it was against the rules to do so; he knew he would probably get caught and locked into some time-out corner that he had no idea existed, but he was absolutely done with everybody in that crowded, nasty, snooty Oletus Manor.

     And it rained outside. Of course it rained when Norton finally had the guts to leave that stupid Manor. Now his boots would get all muddy and his clothes would be all disgustingly damp… he knew he would get caught, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

     He kicked a stone aside. Screw it all. That Baron could take Norton’s pickaxe and drag him through the mud if he really wanted to. But he’d had enough of those unfulfilled promises of wealth and status and fame.

     Norton continued down the path that led to the entrance of the fancy old Manor, ignoring the way the raindrops seemed to dig into his skin— ignoring how every step he took increased his heartbeat.

     He was scared, sure, but being scared was supposed to mean nothing compared to what he’d been through.

     He continued trudging through the mud with a large frown on his (in his opinion) rather attractive face as he wiped raindrops off his face. Raindrops, for sure.

     He continued this course until that cursed Manor was almost out of sight. He continued until he heard a strange noise.

     Was that a kid crying? 

     No, no… more like a small animal.

     Norton whirled around. He looked to his left, then to his right.

     Another whine filled the air, muted by the sound of raindrops hitting the wet earth.

     It sounded familiar… in fact, all of this was familiar. 

     All of this— the mud, the urge to escape, the urge to throw his pickaxe at something, the crying that rang through his ears… it reminded him of a bad day at the mines.

     Norton lowered the brim of his hat and observed the area around him. Nobody else was in sight. So who in the world was crying so loudly? 

     Was he going insane?

     The rain felt like tiny pricks of ice digging into his skin. He trembled, although he didn’t know why. The crying continued.

     It got closer. But it was nowhere in sight. 

     Maybe this was his punishment. Maybe that superstitious Gilman was right all along and that Oletus really was haunted with the demons that grave boy Kreiss despised so much. He was going to be tortured by a house for wanting to exist!

     And then, the crying came right below him.

     A sudden weight fell onto his right boot. 

     He looked down.

     Some shaggy looking, frail and mewing beast leaned against his leg, whining and cuddling up to him like he was it's mum!

     “Son of a…” Norton’s first instinct? To kick it off. He’d seen his fair share of mangy mutts around the mines. Some of the miners even liked those things. Norton thought them a waste of his precious time. And he still did.

     The thing was, the scraggly cat below him didn’t. It was a tiny thing— probably just out of being a kitten. Anyway, it mewed and pawed at Norton’s boot before rolling over and resting its scrawny head on it.

     Norton would never a tell a soul about how his heart softened for just a moment. 

     He then rolled his eyes at the pitiful thing and shook it off, turning around to leave Oletus’ gaze once and for all.

     Of course, the thing began to follow.

     Norton stopped.

     So did the cat.

     Norton turned towards the Manor and headed towards it, seeing if that would get it away from him.

     But no.

     It followed. And it was an ‘it’  because that was all it would ever be to him, because he had no time or sympathy for something that was a more fuzzy, helpless version of himself. 

     “Get away from me,” he growled at the creature. It meowed back with eyes as wide as saucers. 

     Saucers? Orpheus’ books were getting to his brain— no, it was all of Oletus’ stupidity that was getting to his brain! He diagnosed himself with Oletus disease as he inched away from the cat, who in fact did not get away from him as he had commanded.

      “Go,” Norton repeated, his voice gruff. 

      “Meow,” said the cat.

     Norton facepalmed. 

     The thing pawed at his ankle now. Norton had the physical urge to explode as he watched it curl onto his foot again. How was he supposed to move an inch away from Oletus with this scrawny brick stopping him?! 

     His face paled. What if…

     What if it was a bomb?! Yes, yes— from that horrendously annoying Bon-Bon!

     “Get off me you slim jim!” Norton hissed at the supposed bomb. Once it rolled off his foot, he made a run for it.

     Towards Oletus. 

     It was purely by accident, Norton would declare later, because between having to deal with an explosive animal and losing to an Evil Reptilian or a Nun-Looking Lady one more time, he would’ve chosen the one that cried and whined and looked cutest.

     At the present moment, however, he chose wrong. And lo and behold, when he realized he was right in front of a terribly familiar building, he was met with another mewl behind him. 

     Norton was trapped between humanity and the wilderness. A ticking time bomb behind and a bombs within a bomb before him. 

     He slowly grew resigned as he stared at Oletus’ fat, ugly doors and heard more whimpering behind him. It was very much nortover. 

     Raindrops continued pattering onto the path. Among those raindrops were something else. 

     Norton already knew what it was— let’s face it. He was sure whoever else was watching him like he was a clown on some dumb show (which he never got paid for, by the way) also knew who it was as well.

     Norton sagged. It was the worst of both worlds.

     “Kill me already, slim jim,” Norton muttered as the cat pranced in front of him once more and nuzzled against his boot. So maybe it wasn’t a bomb. So what?

     He was never going to win against Oletus. And much less against this very soft, raggedy, smelly thing with four legs and a nice pair of triangle shaped ears. 

     “I give up,” Norton finally came to his senses, because he always did. He found that the most logical thing to do, as it always had been, was to suck it all up and go back into Oletus.

     But not without something from the outside world— because if he was going down, he was bringing the thing that made him do this go down with him. 

Chapter Text

     It was strange, Norton thought, how quickly he decided it was time to give up. He was as hardworking as he was stubborn, and although he naturally followed through with his decision to keep that cat, he wondered if he truly could have escaped Oletus.

     Maybe he would’ve if it weren’t for him being so spooked by a meowing slim jim.

     Norton sighed and rolled his eyes and slammed the door to his room shut before letting the cat flee from under his hat, which he had held tightly to his chest as he trudged through Oletus with a deep scowl. He made no effort for conversation with any of the other survivors when they stared as he passed— he had enough pains for a lifetime. 

     Now, he was a guardian of this skinny little baby. And it wasn’t even that much of a baby at all. Those things were always coddled,  supported by some big mummy and/or daddy at all times. Norton had stopped being a baby long ago. 

     Norton sighed and chucked his hat onto the bed. The cat which wasn’t a baby crept next to him as he sank to the floor and rested his back on the door. It looked up  at him and he met its gaze. It had ugly eyes. It looked like it was winking at him. 

     What had he done?

      He was too exhausted to figure out. He had stormed out of a lost match, tried to escape Oletus, took some stray cat from outside of it and subsequently went back to Oletus all in the same day. This was truly his mental degradation, his punishment for his greed. He had suffered terror shocks one too many times, had blown up too many caves (read: one). 

     The cat with no name inched closer and rested its bony head onto Norton’s stomach. He bet that thing had a hollow skull and no thoughts at all. 

     It mewed very quietly. Its tail  was still. Norton pinched his nosebridge and looked up at the ceiling. 

     The cat pawed him. Norton ignored it, murmuring curses to himself under his breath. He hoped his friends Eli and Naib had given up on finding him. 

     Norton still remembered the way he had snapped. He got wrecked by that blasted Orpheus in his ugly plague doctor costume that reeked of money, and Norton missed all of his magnet throws-- and all that after a long, horrible losing streak at the  hands of bad teammates and overworked hunters-- and then, in front of his friends and a certain Frderick Kreiburg, he slammed the door on Orpheus’s face post-match before running away. Norton did not look back after he heard Orpheus whine. He suspected the Novelist was visiting Emily the Doctor now. 

     The cat whined and pawed Norton again. It was strange, he thought, how social this cat was. Usually the cats near the mines only sought food, and after allowing themselves to  be  pet a few times by the men, they would dash off to somewhere else. Greedy little things. 

     Maybe a little like him. But that thought embarrassed Norton, so he stopped thinking about that. 

     Without thinking at all, he put a hand on the cats head (its fur there was matted and felt very rough) and pet it. His eyes were still  on the ceiling and, as his adrenaline from all that  had occured subsided, he  felt somewhat peaceful. 

     The cat mewed contently after Norton pet it a few more times. It broke the  silence in the room and reminded Norton that he was in a room that was in Oletus and that he was safe in this room because nobody else would come bother him or tell him what a bad sport/grumpy man/most unfriendliest miner ever he was. And he found that funny,  because everywhere else he worked (he considered his time at Oletus a temporary job-- a means for money), he was commended. Praised. Only caveat was that he was a dog to all of those bosses. 

     Hah. And before him was a cat. 

     Norotn wrinkled his  nose. That thing smelled . He temporary lifted up his hand from the  cat, who suddenly looked up and turned to face him with curiosity in its big eyeballs. 

     “What?” Norton stared back. Did it think he smelled, too? He squinted at it and it nonchalantly went back to resting its head on him. 

     Norton was too exhausted to say anything else. The cat was still somewhat wet and hadn’t bothered to dry itself since it was too busy being a lump that slowly made it onto Norton’s torso, waiting to be pet and  tended to like some kind of princess. 

    Huh. Maybe that would be its name, Norton mused internally. ‘Spoiled Little Princess’, something or other--

     “NORTON!”

     Naib. Lord have mercy. 

     Then there was pounding. Of course it just had to be Naib Subedar. Who named their kid after an army rank? Didn’t the army teach people to knock?

      “Sheesh, no hello, huh?” Norton murmured to the cat, remaining on the floor. He shut  his  eyes and let his hand rest on the cat. 

     “Norton, open up!” then came the more gentle voice  of the duo, Eli. Footsteps came closer. Norton obviously  ignored them. 

     Naib slammed his fists on the door once more. “Come out! The Baron wants you for something!”

     His familiar yet annoyingly loud --but not shrill, because that man could project and could actually  use  his  lungs properly unlike Norton-- and deep voice disturbed the cat, who was practically  previously napping on its new papa’s torso. It flinched and sprang up, almost rolling off of Norton. It squeaked as well. 

     Norton quickly caught it and put a finger to his lips. Maybe it couldn’t speak English, but it could learn common sense. 

      It seemed to understand, to some extent. But it just crept closer to Norton and poked him with its nose. At least it wasn’t crying anymore. 

     Norton smiled at that. He looked  at the curious little cat for a few seconds more before his eyes drifted up towards his open window. 

     Oh.

     There, staring at him from a branch in a tree, was Eli’s freaky stalker owl Brooke Rose. Dead in the eye, at that. 

     Norton immediately  shoved the cat behind him and gave that high and mighty owl his sharpest glare yet. 

     “You tell them any word of  this and I’ll have you at the pickaxe,” Norton mouthed to Brooke Rose, who understood English better than some of the other survivors on occasion. Unlike the other survivors, Brooke Rose never paid heed to any threats from anyone aside from Eli (who barely threatened people at all— as far as Norton knew). 

     So she flew off, and the knocking continued until whispering occured. 

     “Hi, Brooke,” Eli cooed, thinking he was whispering. Norton was ready to escape through the window if need be. And he would take Spoiled Princess Slim Jim too!

     More whispering —actual whispering— ensued. Norton thought he heard the owl join in too. 

     Eventually, he heard footsteps walk away. Good. Maybe that owl did know not to mess with a man, his baby—no, excuse him, his cat—and his pickaxe.

     Norton stood up once the footsteps were almost unintelligible. He swooped Spoiled Magic Muffin (what in the world was his name for it again?) into his arms and headed towards his bed.

     Forget about Joseph’s scheduled fancy schmancy Survivor-Hunter tea time in the late afternoon. Norton was going to take a nap. And nobody would stop him.

     “Okay, little goofy face,” Norton freed the cat from his grip once he lay on the bed. “I’m gonna go to sleep now, so you be a good little worker and wake me up if the Baron comes to steal my soul. Capiche?”

     “Miau,” said the cat, in a way that oddly reminded Norton of French people. Maybe Norton did miss tea time. So what? Wouldn’t matter if the Baron caught his head. (He didn’t want to end up like Mary…)

     Regardless, Norton moved his hard hat onto his bedside table and then stretched, remaining in his somewhat dry work clothes. He looked at Spoiled Muffin Jim and pulled the blankets over himself, turning away from the dim sunlight through his windows, and tried to get a lick of sleep.

     …Of course, he failed a moment later when that same window he so desperately tried to ignore opened. Norton, although he had poor hearing, was not completely deaf.

     He knew when someone was intruding on his personal privacy.

     “Norton!” Naib shouted, less loudly now that he had slipped into the room. “The Baron! He’s—“

     “Shh. He’s sleeping, Naib!” Eli shook his head, although Norton wouldn’t have known that because he remained in his fetal position. Slim Cat Jim lay in front of him, looking nervous. Somehow.

     “Well. Too bad,” Naib shrugged and moved closer. “Wake up, sleeping beauty—“

     “No, no. Wait. What’s that furry thing in front of him?” Eli stepped closer and pointed at the cat. Norton almost gasped.

     Gold in his eyes! He couldn’t let any of them know about the cat! He’d get in trouble and… and what would happen to Slim Jim then?! That Baron was a cruel man!

     Norton shifted his body over the cat, moving like a lump as he conveniently sheltered it from Eli’s line of sight.

     “What furry thing?” Naib asked with his arms folded.

     “Nevermind,” Eli squinted at Norton’s back.

     “Anyway, I’m going to wake him up,” Naib headed even closer, his voice nearer now. He placed a hand on his shoulder when Norton suddenly rolled off the bed in a position that conveniently allowed him to hide the silent cat in his arms. 

     “Naib!” Eli gasped. He ran over to Norton to see what Naib had done. Naib only sighed, because he did nothing. 

     “Ow,” Norton tried his best to unleash his flair for acting. The manor’s costume director, Violetta, always said he’d fit such a well-paying job. “Ow, ah, jeez…”

     “Don’t roll off your bed, Campbell,” Naib ordered.

     “Sorry,” Norton rolled his eyes. And he still managed to look tired, because he truly was. 

     Slim Jim meowed. Norton coughed.

     “Did you hear something, Naib?” Eli cocked his head to the side as the blindfolded man crept towards Norton as well.

     “It’s probably his lungs.” Naib scrutinized Norton’s hunched-over position. “I  knew  he  still smokes…”

     Eli  sighed and knelt next to Norton, placing a hand on his shoulder. Norton continued to shield the cat with his knees and  arms. 

     “You smell bad,” Eli murmured. 

     Norton glared  at him. 

     “You’re coming  with us,” Naib ignored both actions and made way to the  door. “The Baron wants  you, by the way.

     “For what?” Norton scoffed. “Did poor little rich boy break his nose when I shut the door on him?” 

     “I’m not so inclined to mess with Orpheus,” Eli shook his  head in disappointment. Norton felt like he  always disappointed that guy. 

     “No,” Naib answered. “I… I don’t actually know what  the Baron wants with you, to be frank.”

     Norton huffed. If he made any sudden moves,  he might scare Fluffy Gigglemug. “Well, um, my leg hurts so I can’t go.”

    “Your leg always  hurts, though,” Eli looked at Norton’s leg. “You’re always hurting.”

     “Get up, Norton,” Naib ordered. “We’re not carrying you through  Oletus again--.”

     “My leg actually hurt that time!”  Norton interjected, throwing his hands up in the air and temporarily revealing the cat. 

     “What’s that?” Eli asked as Norton’s hands flew back to  his torso. 

     “Ohh, my stomach,” Norton groaned. “Curse my black lung!”

     “What?” Naib stared at his  friend in bewilderment. Naib looked at Eli, who looked back at him. Nobody said a word. Naib was just about ready to wheel him out with a stretcher. 

     Norton coughed, covering the cat’s quiet whimpers. He shut his eyes and wheezed ever so often, because a few minutes in, he was only half-acting. “Oh, gold!”

     He  felt the cat try to wriggle out from his grip. Norton kept his grip as tight as he could. 

     “You really  would make a fine actor,” Eli muttered under his  breath. 

     “Shut your mouth, Eli,” Naib said, because he took any sign of his friends being unwell seriously. 

     Norton wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “Sorry about that.”

     “Okay, up,” Naib immediately said afterward.  “I’ll carry you myself if you have to.”

     “No, tell the Baron to come to me,” Norton pleaded. 

      “That man doesn’t make accommodations for anyo--” Eli shook his  head. 

     “Yes, he does,” Naib retorted. He took a step back and stroked his chin. His expression did not match his potato-like baby face. “Eli, you stay here. I’ll tell the Baron.”

      “Okay,” Eli looked up in Naib’s general direction before he left. When the door shut, Eli’s head turned to Norton, whose body was starting to ache in his uncomfortable position. 

     Eli’s body was turned to him. Norton felt very poked up. The aches in his knees and arms and back were one thing. Eli’s penchant for staring  into people’s souls without saying anything was… very much another matter.

     “Got the morbs, huh, Norton?” Eli finally said when Norton finally opened  his mouth. Why did Eli always do that?

     “Sure,” Norton inched away  from him. 

     Eli inched closer, very subtly. His tone was  rather menacing. “Brooke Rose told me you were ignoring us.”

     “Animal whisperer, huh, Eli?”  Norton widened his eyes and stared back at Eli,  his  tone mocking. 

     “She told me you got something new for your room…”

     “No, she didn’t.”

     The owl perched on Eli’s shoulder now. Norton flinched and hit the wall as he scooched away. Hadn’t she just been on the windowsill, watching? Listening ? 

     “It’s the costume rack, isn’t it?” Eli suddenly straightened up and smiled. “You always like to act humble about it, but I know you love your fancy clothes. All those gemstones, all that gold…”

     “Sure, pal,” Norton’s eyes went from Eli to Brooke to Eli. Norton ignored the way that plump owl stared at him with an unreadable expression and those terribly large eyes. 

     “You and Naib have a lot of fun costumes,” Eli continued yapping. “Lots of amazing and enjoyable designs! People say you two can be so brooding and mysterious, but I knew Violetta would  able to make her way into your hearts!”

     “What?”

     “She’s such a kind lady,” Eli’s smile grew. “In a way, she reminds me of Getrude.”

      Norton resisted the urge to groan. Others in Oletus never thought of Eli to be a gushy or romantic or charming man, yet whenever the name ‘Getrude’ came up, Eli would unleash love from the depths of his heart and swoon on and on about his beloved fiancee. 

     “Getrude…” Eli paused and took Brooke Rose into his arms, holding that owl as gently as Norton had held Spoiled Sweet Jim so long ago. 

     Brooke Rose let herself be held. Norton hoped she wouldn’t rat him out. 

     Eli seemed very lost in thought for a moment, probably imagining himself by Gertrude’s side picking flowers by a stream after a nice little picnic and prayer session. At least, that was what Norton imagined. He was third wheeling, of course, and Naib would never go watch a date. 

     Suddenly, Brooke Rose squawked in Eli’s ear. The Seer flinched and straightened up immediately. Brooke Rose continued hobbling about on Eli’s shoulder and chirping random noises. 

      Norton hoped Gigglemug Slim Jim wouldn’t do that to him. Brooke Rose’s talons were sharp. For some reason, Eli always hesitated cutting them. 

     Speaking of Eli, the man gasped and raised his eyebrows until they were almost out of sight. He suddenly stood up, looked at Norton, and pointed at the prospector’s torso. 

     Brooke Rose swooped down and lunged towards it. Norton screamed and rolled away, keeping Chuckleface close to his chest. 

     It meowed. Norton tried to cover it up with a cough but did so just a second too late. 

     “Aha!” Eli exclaimed. He scrambled over to inspect the animal without a second thought while Norton slowly revealed it to him. There was no point in hiding it now. It was very much nortover for Norton and his little kitty. 

     “If you say one word about my son to anyone else, my pickaxe will have your head,” Norton whispered to him. And while his tone was dark and  his voice low, it had  no effect on Eli, who was talking over him in favor of petting the cat and caressing its cheeks and cooing strange words to it. 

     “Aww, she’s so precious,” Eli murmured as he leaned incredibly closer to the little cat, whose head was tilted as it inspected this strange man wearing a blindfold. “Hello, little kitty… I’m Eli, your new friend--”

     Norton scooched ever  so slightly towards the  corner of the  room. 

     “Hey,” Eli huffed, looking up at  Norton. “I’m the animal whisperer  here.”

     “I predict a dark future for you if you rat Norton Campbell out to anybody in Oletus Manor,” Norton retorted, trying to imitate Eli with his vague, ominous prophecies. 

     “I… okay.”

      “I predict that if you don’t help me hide this… this creature, terrible  things will happen to your breakfast meals for the next fourty one days,” Norton continued, realizing that vague ominous prophecies were (in a twisted way) extremely fun to tell people. 

     “I’m already on your side, Norton,” Eli probably rolled his eyes at him. 

     “Fine, I’ll stop now.”

     “Give me the cat, please.”

     “What? No!”

     “I must  check if she has any diseases. Just by looking at her I can tell you got her from outside Oletu--”

     “SHHH!! God knows who  could be  listening right now!”

     “Right,” Eli began sarcastically. “Like somebody stealthy is behind the door and about to walk in in 0.1 seconds--”

     “Hello, men.”

     The sound of the door opening was accompanied by Naib’s voice as he  strutted into the  room with footsteps resounding nearby. 

     “Naib!” Norton cleared his throat and shoved the cat into Eli’s arms. Brooke Rose descended from Eli’s shoulder and conveniently  plopped herself in front of  the cat as Eli subtly rotated  away from Naib, just at the  perfect degree to hide  a cat from his sharp eyes. 

     “Listen,  Campbell,” Naib shut the door and shook his head with a disappointed sigh. “I got Sterling to try and get the  Baron to come here like you said, but… Sterling came back with a stroller and a walking stick. Pick your poison.”

     From behind his back, Naib  took out a folded stroller (nobody had ever seen such  an odd contraption  before) and a walking stick. It was quite literally a stick, most likely from the Darkwoods. 

    “That’s not a stroller,” Eli squinted at the folded up item. 

     “Well, according to Reznik, it is. For some reason she decided to work with Balsa to make baby strollers for Dyer's baby resuscitation dummies.”

     “We didn’t even  have to deal with those dummies until Tracy made them,” Norton murmured. Tracy Reznik was a brilliant yet very interesting mind in Norton’s eyes. Eli gave him a sympathetic smile. 

     “How does it work?” Eli asked.

     It was a complicated process. Many locks were involved. Sometimes, the stroller would get stuck. There was a bumper bar. 

     And there was also no way  Norton was riding in that thing. 

     “Well, it looks like I can walk again and go see the Baron,” Norton sprang  up and dusted off his  hands. Nobody spoke as he forced the door open and left the room, leaving Naib and Eli to  watch him walk away with wide eyes (if you were Eli). 

     “He is very moody today,” Eli remarked, secretly stroking Norton’s Cat’s head while Brooke Rose adjusted her position ever so often. "He also left his  hat."

     Naib sighed and buried his face in his hands. 

Chapter Text

     Norton came back into his room with a dim expression and several bandages on his face. He stormed in, slammed the door shut, and looked straight down at the only other human being in the room (who was accompanied by an entourage of animals by now… unsurprisingly). 

     “What should we name you, hm, little one?” Eli cooed. And was that… that scraggly stinky cat in his arms? Was he bouncing the little cat on his knee like some kind of… baby? 

     Norton stopped short and stared at the man, who was seated on the floor surrounded by an army of butterflies and bunnies who brought mud and flowers and possibly rabies into his room. All because of Brooke Rose and her little window adventures. Norton prayed Eli attracted no caterpillars, those (in Norton’s eyes) evil, crawling, Plinius-like things. 

     And while Norton half-heartedly prayed, a plethora of birds gently crowned Eli with flowers and descended next to the cat. The cat, in response to Eli, purred and rolled over to try and grab at Eli’s flower crown. Of course, because its limbs were particularly tiny, it  failed. But it seemed content just being in Eli’s lap. 

     Eli’s. 

     Norton’s eye twitched. That was his cat,  being utterly bribed  by Eli  and his animal-loving, babying, fatherly charms--!

     It was too much for a man to bear after a meeting with the cruel Baron, a man whose face nobody had ever seen. A man who sat so high  and mighty with his back to his visitors in a comically large armchair and whose room smelled so uncannily sterile and whose voice was one nobody ever remembered because by the moment you walked out you forgot everything about him. Most of the time, one left with usually nothing except for a paper with the orders he had given you. (In Norton’s case, he walked out with fresh bandages on his face and a paper detailing his punishment: to visit the Baron more times than usual that month. He would have forgotten that if it weren’t for that ugly cursive on that ugly, rich person paper.)

     And now, Norton feared that smelly Slim Jim was on his way to forgetting him. 

     Him. Norton. Its father. Not Eli. 

     “Eli, get my cat out of your arms,” Norton whined. And he didn’t mean to whine— he meant to growl. To command Eli as he usually did in matches. Yet…

     He cleared his throat immediately afterward. His voice! How had it suddenly jumped two octaves?

     Eli, also surprised by Norton’s whiny order, turned around. The animals all hid behind Eli as he did so. All except for that off-white cat who had its eyes closed and awaited more pets, resting daintily in Eli’s lap like the Spoiled Slim Jim Princess it was. 

     “Oh, hello Norton!” a smile formed on the normally serious man’s lips. “I’ve been taking care of your cat while you were away with the B--”

     Norton extended his hand. He stretched it out towards the cat. Norton did not speak twice. 

     Eli shut his mouth and plopped the cat into Norton’s arms. Of course, he kept a keen eye on the prospector, because Eli doubted that Norton knew how to hold a cat properly.

     He was very surprised to see just the opposite— Norton’s movements were almost practiced. Familiar. He was, in a very un-Nortonlike manner, gentle with the cat and slowly positioned it so that it could be comfortable in his arms. It meowed and stuck out its tongue and contentedly lay there, in his arms now, with its eyes closed.

     In contrast, Norton was the opposite of calm. He looked down at that cat as if it had kept him awake for hours on end, crying all night.

     It reminded Eli of a memory from so long ago: Eli’s parents had always teased him, about how he was such a crier as a baby. They suspected he cried all his tears away by the time he started acting all mysterious and brooding (aka: primary school). Eli wondered if the cat, or even Norton, had been the crying babies too. It was a strange thought that brought awkward images to Eli’s mind. 

     Norton was fairly serious. Some found him almost menacing. Eli could barely conjure up an image of Norton as a tiny little thing. The cat, on the other hand, was anything but. It seemed content just being held by its new papa.

     Eli knew that cat wasn’t stupid. A street critter like her survived the unkind outdoors somehow, just as her dad had, and now she had a home.

     Oletus was an interesting home for everyone here, but a home nonetheless. And Eli was sure Norton would agree.

     Norton remained quiet. There was something different about him now. He bore no resting face scowl. His eyebrows weren’t as furrowed as usual. And his eyes— they seemed almost soft.

     “You should name her,” Eli quietly said as he took a step closer to Norton, who seemed mesmerized by the cat. Specifically its bald patch. It was no pretty little thing. 

     Norton stiffened upon registering his friend's voice. He straightened up and cleared his throat and held the cat closer to his chest. “Don’t give me any ideas. I’ll figure out a name myself.”

     Eli knew a lot of animals, sure, but he gave them all the strangest names in Norton’s eyes. Eli’d name any beautiful flower he found ‘Gertrude’s Friend’ and gave the animals peculiar names like ‘Carys’ or ‘Ffion’ or, if he really liked them, the very mysterious ‘Blodeuwedd’. 

     Just then, the door opened.

     Without a second thought, Norton abruptly slammed himself onto the ground with a terribly loud thud and shielded the cat with his body. Eli, after watching with horror and a slight hint of intrigue, lunged forward to cover the man, who shoved the unnamed cat into his arms. 

     “Do me a favor,” Norton murmured as Naib poked his head through the door. Of course it was Naib.  

     “Ah, nanty narking,” Norton murmured under his breath as Naib curiously looked at the duo. Norton was nursing his knee by now with a fat grimace on his bandaged face. 

     “You’ve hurt yourself again, Campbell?” Naib sighed with a click of his tongue. 

     “Hi Naib!” Eli shot Naib the brightest smile a seer like him could. Brooke Rose elegantly flew over in front of him and flashed Naib her wings, showing them off with uncharacteristic pride. 

     “Hello…” Naib squinted at Brooke Rose before immediately shifting his gaze back onto his apparently re-injured comrade. 

     “Bandages?” Naib knelt and inspected Norton’s pained face. 

     “The Baron,” Norton grumbled, his hand reaching up to feel his face. It was strange. There was no pain there. At all. But there were other issues at hand, such as keeping the cat a secret from Naib. While Naib was a secretive man himself, the more people who knew about the cat meant more trouble for Norton. 

     Norton had gotten himself into trouble one too many times. Oletus was also a goldmine for gossip, and if word got out about Norton going all soft for an itty-bitty somewhat kitty…

     “…Strange,” Naib remarked, before looking down at the two who looked up at him with suspiciously nervous expressions. Norton continued feeling the bandages, looking troubled. Eli continued flashing an uncannily bright smile as Brooke Rose did a little dance in front of him. 

      For a moment, Naib remained where he was. Oletus was very strange indeed, but these two were some of the only sane minds left…

     Strange, huh? In fact, none of them had acted the same since he first left the room. 

     Slowly, as Brooke Rose’s prancing around got slower and slower (for the bird found dancing rather taxing), Naib put the dots together. Norton secretly watched him with sharp eyes while drawing out groans of agony to attempt to distract the man. 

     It was like they were hiding a secret— the bandaids, Brooke Rose’s eagerness to show off, Norton’s clumsiness… Naib was certainly not the brightest detective there ever was, but no mercenary got far by being a brute. 

      “Stop that,” Naib ordered to the bird before him. Brooke Rose stared at him with soulless eyes. Naib stared back. Brooke Rose moved aside, much to the displeasure of the cat lovers. 

     “You can’t just--” Eli’s voice wavered as he quickly pulled his cloak over something and placed his hands over it. “She’s my bird. Not yours!”

      Norton gulped and grew a hint paler as Naib inched closer and closer to Eli.

      “You’re hiding something,” Naib declared. “I can tell.”

      Naib leaned in close to the man. It was… rather terrifying. Eli was glad Naib couldn’t see the anxiety in his eyes. Having a blindfold was so handy sometimes. 

      “Lay off him, Naib,” Norton intervened, separating the two. “Eli’s just a little… uh… enthuzimuzzy about Gertrude’s new letter.”

      Naib, on the other hand, was not at all convinced. 

     “That bird never dances,” Naib blankly retorted. “You’re hiding something. Both of you.”

     “I’ll admit it,” Norton cleared his throat, keeping his cool. “I did eat a bit of your roast beef--”

     “Eli. Your cloak.”

     “What about it?” Eli nervously chuckled. A tiny sound came  from the fabric. A sound akin to a…

     Naib’s eyes widened. 

     “Norton, you’re the one stealing all my roast beef?!”

     Norton covered up a small grin with some coughing and an apologetic nod. “Yes… yes… sorry.”

     Naib squinted at Norton with distaste before turning his head back towards Eli. “Anyway. As I was saying…”

     “Norton! How could you?!” Now it was Eli’s turn to play actor— except he never had quite enough flair as Norton did. Although Eli sounded distressed, his face barely shifted an inch. It was almost impressive. 

     “Hush,” Naib ordered. “Eli. Your cloak. I heard a noise from it earlier.”

     “Must’ve been me coughing,” Norton shrugged, feeling sweat run down his forehead. 

     “Cloaks don’t cough,” Eli whispered to him. 

     “Shut up. I’m trying to cover for you and my ca— my… my sanity,” Norton whispered back, knowing full well Naib was onto them. 

     “Sanity, you say?” Naib leaned in closer to the duo, his eyes moving from the two men and to the strange lump under Eli’s cloak. 

     “I knew you always had a thing for my gold,” Norton gritted his teeth, feigning as much aggression towards Eli as possible. Eli gave him a frown and placed his hands over the lump. 

     “Well… Listen, Norton, I can explain—“ Eli kept a tight grip on the, for some reason, moving lump of ‘gold’. 

     “Move,” Naib interrupted. “Let me see this ‘gold’ of yours, Eli.”

     “My gold,” Norton corrected. “He’s not the prospector here. I am.”

     “Let me see it!” Naib raised his voice, suddenly lunging forward. 

     Eli gulped and backed away, taking Lump with him. He turned to Brooke Rose, who shook her head at him with a pitiful coo. 

     Norton locked eyes with Eli. 

     “It’s for the best, Norton,” Eli sighed, slowly inching away further and further until something appeared from under him. 

     Naib continued watching with a rather blank face. His arms were folded and he stared at the lump as if it was a troublesome child. 

     “I…” Norton began, but it was too late.

     The cat, quite literally, was out of the bag. 

     And it certainly was not what Naib had expected.

Chapter Text

     “Looks a lot like you, Campbell,” Naib remarked the moment the cat came out purring and running her paw over her head after licking it. 

     Norton’s eyes widened in distress. He (unsubtly) crawled closer to the nonchalant cat and took her into his arms, stroking her head and letting her sit in his lap. 

     “Norton doesn’t like it when we compare him to animals,” Eli whispered to Naib, despite the fact that Norton could hear him full well. 

     “Quiet, you two,” Norton hissed when he noticed the cat resting its head against his chest. “It’s tired.”

     “She,” Eli corrected. 

     “She? As if I intend to make a connection with this stray mutt,” Norton sniffed, his eyes remaining directly on the cat as he continued stroking its head. 

     “You’re in denial,” Naib flatly stated as Eli said:

     “We still haven’t given her a name!”

     Norton ignored Naib and looked at Eli. “I said I’ll figure one out.”

     “You seem awfully distracted by that ‘stray mutt’, Campbell,” Naib muttered, keeping his eyes locked on the cat. Its tongue stuck out. Naib found it rather charming, in a way. Norton and that thing seemed like excellent partners. They truly resembled one another. Very uncannily. 

     Norton did not respond. There was a smile on his face— that was new. He also seemed rather content with that cat resting in his arms. He hummed contentedly ever so often while Naib and Eli looked at each other in absolute shock (if you were Eli) or straight apathy (Naib).

     “I can’t believe this is happening,” Eli whispered to him. 

     “Oh, I sure can. I’ve seen a bunch of stories like this, Clark.”

     “…You have? I didn’t know you liked reading.”

     “What? No. Clark, I’ve already told you you wouldn’t find my face in the library.”

     “So what stories have you read? About brooding prospectors adopting cats, nonetheless?”

     “I… No. Look— back when I was in the military, I saw a bunch of cases of men befriending stray dogs or cats or… really any animal. Even the most sadistic man would’ve fed a kitten or watched a mother give birth to her litter.”

    “Wow!” And all of a sudden, Eli imagined him and Gertrude in front of such animals with Naib. Eli’d be holding her hand as they named each of the animals, who would surround her and crown her with flowers like a queen… (In Eli’s eyes, she was one.)

     “It was… not as cute as you would think.” Naib shot him a concerned look. 

     “Wait, there were mother dogs and cats in your camp?”

     “…Very rarely. And most of them would die before we moved out,” Naib’s face darkened. 

     Eli frowned. His gaze drifted back to Norton, who looked like he was about to doze off as well. The cat didn’t stir in his arms, looking just as peaceful as he did. 

     “We should really name that cat,” Eli insisted, both because he didn’t want to keep calling the cat ‘the cat’ and because he didn’t want Naib to dwell on such terrible memories. 

     “You’re going to name it something Welsh and Norton will think you’re going insane,” Naib deadpanned. 

     “You have to admit that ‘Blodyn tatws’ is a proper name for a cute little cat like her,” Eli folded his arms. 

     “Blody… huh?” Naib wrinkled his nose. 

     “I guess you don’t get it either… It means ‘Potato Flower’ in everyone’s favorite language.”

     Naib suddenly snorted and slammed a hand over his mouth. However, it was too late. 

     Norton stirred and blinked furiously and then flinched upon realizing Eli and Naib were still there. Watching him. 

     “Don’t you just sit there and watch me sleep!” Norton chided, except he himself was half-awake and could barely keep his eyes open. 

     “Go to sleep, Little Prospector,” Eli attempted to sing while Naib went behind Norton to get the blanket and pillows off the bed. “Go to sleep, la la la la…”

      Eli, while his voice was usually decent, was suffering from a hint of allergies at the moment. His lullabies had the opposite effect, so by the time Naib draped Norton’s white blanket over him and forced him to lie his head down on the pillow, Norton was wide awake. 

     “Eli,” was all Norton said. His eye twitched. “Eli, what were you thinking?”

     Eli was taken aback. “You didn’t like my lullaby?”

     Norton stared at Naib with utter disappointment in his eyes. Naib shrugged and plopped Norton’s dirty hat over his face. 

     “You guys are not helping,” Norton groaned, stroking his cat’s back. After a moment, he suddenly declared: “I really need to sleep.”

      “Go to sleep, Little Prospector—“ Eli began once more.

     “Hold,” Naib raised a hand in the air. “Your voice is not suitable for this task, Clark. Allow me to relieve you of your duties.”

     “Rude,” Eli grumbled. 

     Naib cleared his throat. Norton covered Slim Jim’s ears with his hands. Slim Jim continued sleeping very peacefully. 

     “पानी पर्यो,” Naib sang.  His voice was low and scratchy, but he had a surprisingly decent sense of rhythm. Norton straightened up and looked at Naib with confusion before Eli, who headed over to his side, gently laid him down again. 

     “What are you singing?” Norton immediately asked, but Naib just kept going. 

      “सुन्दैछु, सुन्दैछु,” Naib was lost in the music, even if it sounded oddly familiar to Frere Jacques.

     Norton looked at Eli with a hint of concern in his eyes. “Do you think he’s secretly cussing us out?”

     “What? No. Naib wouldn’t do that,” Eli murmured back, finding Naib’s singing rather pleasant. 

     Hesitantly, Norton uncovered his cat’s ears and shifted away from Eli, trying to go back to sleep. 

     After a few more minutes, Naib finished, and Norton was still. Soft clapping came from where Norton lay.

     It was Eli. 

     Pink filled Naib’s cheeks as he remembered he had an audience. Two, maybe four, if one included the animals (Eli’s entourage had already left before Naib entered), but an audience nonetheless. 

     Naib did not usually sing. 

     “That was so pretty!” Eli walked over to his friend. “What song was that?”

     “Pretty?” Naib stiffened. “Are you sure?”

     “Yes!” Eli grinned. 

     “Keep your voice down or else I’ll have to sing it again,” Naib sniffed and folded his arms, although those words meant quite a bit to him. 

     “What song was it?” Eli repeated.

      “Just a lullaby. Sounds like Frere Jacques. Different lyrics.”

     “Wow. In Nepalese?”

     “…Yeah.”

     “You should teach me, Naib!”

     “Hush. And… I will. If you’ll teach me some Welsh.”

     “Of course. And once we get out of here, you can practice it with me and Gertrude! It’ll be so quaint and lovely and wonderful—“

     “Shh. I get it, I get it. Let's get going before Campbell wakes up again.”

     “Campbell and his cat,” Eli quietly chuckled. Norton ran his hand over the curled-up cat’s side. 

     “Hah… he’s gotten himself into quite the situation, hasn’t he?”

     It was all Norton heard before sleep overtook him completely. 

Chapter Text

     There was no getting out of this one.

     “Norton… I’m so sorry to tell you this, but…”

      Eli stood before the prospector now, shaking his head and sighing every few seconds just like Naib did. It was disturbing. “You can’t risk Cat being seen or hurt. You need to leave her behind.”

     “I’ll take every hit for her!” Norton cried, cradling the cat in his arms. “And don’t you dare call her ‘Cat’! Can’t you give any good names?!”

     “Last time I’ve seen him this sentimental was when you stole his pet rock,” Naib, who stood beside Eli, broke his poker face and giggled.

     Norton grit his teeth and balled his fists. The cat purred and put a paw on his face. Norton sighed and looked away, much to everyone’s amusement. 

     “She’ll be safe with us,” Naib folded his arms. “Naib’s honor.”

     “Eli’s honor as well,” Eli chirped.

     “‘Eli’ isn’t an army rank,” Norton grumbled. 

     “Well, it's  still an honor—“

     “Hush now, Seer,” Naib said, reverting to his poker face.

     “Anyway. I won’t do it. I won’t let any of you take care of my dau… disgustingly smelly creature anymore. I can manage an animal just fine, you know.”

     “You have more experience with rocks than animals,” Naib pointed to Norton’s table of gemstones a few feet away, next to his desk.

     “I’m a very capable man,” Norton stated Naib dead in the eye with an almost smug expression. “You’d be surprised at how far I can go with three magnets and a hard hat.”

     “I don’t doubt that,” Eli murmured.

     “Well, it's your choice then,” Naib did not waver. “If you're truly so capable then I’d better not see a scratch on that kitty of yours.”

     “We really ought to get her a name—“ Eli remarked, much to Norton’s annoyance.

      “Alright! Alright. I’ll take good care of her. You’ll see. You’ll all see. I don’t care who’s going against me. They won’t lay a grimy finger on my ba— my…!”

     Norton’s face was red by now, what with his rather passionate speech. It did not escape anybody’s eyes that Norton was repeatedly stroking the cat’s back, making it purr and meow and stretch in his arms. It was a quaint little thing— for a stray. 

     “Your…?” Eli raised an eyebrow and folded his arms. Brooke Rose appeared to do the same, as far as a highly invasive bird could imitate a highly invasive man (who got away with it, because he had saved everyone’s head at least once throughout the Manor Games). 

     “Animal,” Norton blankly answered. 

     “Well, if you’re so sure…” Naib formed a particularly ugly smirk. “Go on out there. Hopefully your comrades don’t sell you or your baby out.”

     “You’re meaner than usual,” Norton grunted. His eye twitched. And then after a few moments, he flinched and looked at the cat, as if Naib’s words had only fully registered in his mind by then. “And…! And this isn’t a baby. It's some… some—!”

     “Take it easy,” Naib hummed, opening the door for Norton before practically shoving him and his cat through the doorway.

     Eli immediately shut the door once he heard Norton curse Naib. After a few more inappropriate grumblings, the duo heard hurried footsteps and soon, the Prospector of Oletus Manor was gone.

     “Place your bets,” Naib looked at Eli with an uncharacteristically mischievous grin. 

     “On what?” said the Seer, who didn’t indulge in much gambling as Naib did (for the last time he tried, he had lost a basket of berries, a pound of cheese, and the special bow he had made for Brooke Rose on her birthday). 

       “How many hunters’ll come crying to the Baron about Campbell… again,” Naib answered, his grin only growing wider. It was a strange thing on his sunken face.

        Eli sighed, but smiled as well. “Way to get him riled up, Naib.”

        “It’s for the better,” Naib gave him a tiny shrug. “I haven’t seen the man that passionate since we last gave him onyx for Christmas.”

         “At the cost of my berries,” Eli grumbled. 

         “And cheese.”

         “And Brooke Rose’s bow… you know what? Let’s change the subject,” Eli’s gaze drifted through Norton’s room, trying to shift the subject away from such embarrassing topics. 

         “Looking at the gems, aren’t you, Clark?” Naib tried to follow, despite the fact that Eli was actually staring at Norton’s muddy boot prints on the floor. 

         “Huh? Oh, the gems?” Eli, without moving his head, looked at Norton’s extensive collection of… geodes.

         “That pearl sure looks nice,” Naib put a hand to his chin, inspecting the only pearl Norton had been able to obtain. Naib barely remembered Norton telling him the story of how he had obtained such a delightful thing— something about that hunter Grace and a clamshell and Margaretha Zelle going fishing.

          “Pearl, you say…” and while Naib recalled the pearl’s backstory, Eli recalled something else.

          The pearl was white. Rotund. Beautiful. It was almost the opposite of…

          “Norton’s cat!” Eli suddenly exclaimed in tearful joy. “Oh, Naib, the answer has been before us all along!”

          “The answer for wha—“

          “Let’s name Norton’s cat after one of these gemstones!”

           Naib raised his eyebrows and took a step closer to the collection. “You know, Clark, that’s not a half bad idea.”

          And so the two men spent their morning looking at beautiful rocks. Who knew a Mercenary and a Seer could bond over something as wonderful as names, rocks, and one (1) musty-smelling cat? 

                                                  ~

            People in Oletus had pets all the time in matches. It was virtually inescapable.

             You’d see Victor play with his dog or use it to give you letters or use it to stun hunters like cat-lover Ann. Ann herself kept a bunch of cats in her room, which was why the gossipers who visited always complained about the smell.

      Luca kept a mini, robot version of Joseph in his arsenal at all times. It was from Tracy, who herself had a ‘pet’ of sorts— a tall, gray robot named George (whom Norton thought had a very punchable face). So why couldn’t Norton walk around with Slim Jim Meow Meow like she was any another pet?

     Norton knew the answer, even as he tried to figure out the answer to the cipher machine before him. On the ground lay his hat, which concealed that critter from the human eye. Norton felt extremely bald without his hat on, despite his luxuriously greasy hair being on full display.  

     But it had to be done. The cat wasn’t some Manor-given pet. Even Ann got all her cats from the Baron, just because she was more polite (and scary) than most. Norton knew the only things he got from the Baron were those reminders about his next Baron appointment. No geodes, no food… nothing. He was almost jealous.

     Of course, the Baron knew just as well as Norton did that nobody was allowed to leave Oletus Manor without special permission. Nobody had tried. And if somebody had, it certainly wasn’t somebody around any longer. 

     One way or another, Norton vowed to keep himself (and Hat Cat a few inches to his feet) alive. It would most likely take many days of being ‘bald’ and having to deal with Naib and Eli’s antics, but Norton swore it would all be worth it in the end—

     Whoosh. 

     Norton straightened and immediately tore his hands away from the cipher machine. Without thinking, he bent down to pick up his hat when he heard his Survivor’s Radio (a thick brick of a walkie talkie) emit a muffled noise from his pocket:

      “The Hunter is nearby!” It sounded like Tracy, who couldn’t survive a Hunter’s pursuit for her life (unless it was Alva, a fellow tech geek who was getting up in his years). 

      Norton groaned and almost went back to decoding when he heard another gust of wind blow straight through his ears. This time, however, it was strong enough to sweep Norton’s hair up. 

      The Prospector grumbled as Tracy shouted through the Radio again, repeating herself. Except for some reason, her voice was louder than usual. Almost as if…

      Almost as if the woman was heading straight for him! And… and that blasted Ithaqua was still following her as well!

      Norton swore under his breath and took the cat, who was still burrowed in his hard hat, into one hand and retrieved a magnet in the other as Tracy screamed and barely slipped past a pallet. She locked eyes with Norton and fled behind him, heading straight for a window. He heard her bones crack. 

      And then came Ithaqua, with his high and mighty stilts and that high and mighty ice axe of his. 

      “Afternoon,” the man murmured before casually attempting to draw Norton closer to him with a sharp gust of wind. 

      Norton countered with his magnet. Although he was delivered into Ithaqua’s left stilt, Norton managed to creep by and slam a pallet onto the Hunter’s toe.   

      Ithaqua promptly screamed. Norton threw another magnet and dragged the man into the pallet. The Prospector couldn’t help but giggle— how many times had he used that same strategy already? 

       He led Ithaqua into the ruins of the Sacred Heart Hospital and tried running up the stairs, but the Hunter was angry enough already and practically flew past Norton, landing on top of the landing before Norton could. 

       By now, Norton’s left arm ached from having to carry the cat in his hat and, attempting to deflect Ithaqua’s ice axe, instinctively raised his right in order to protect his little baby. There was no way he’d be able to flee this first hit. 

     “Tch!” he grunted as the axe dug into his skin. The sheer force of it caused Norton’s head to spin as he stumbled down the stairs and vaulted through a window, heading towards the shack. 

     Adrenaline boosted his speed as the cat desperately meowed, wriggling in his arm. Norton ignored the icy sting from Ithaqua’s axe as he shushed the little thing. 

         Norton’s heart raced. A quick glance behind him told him that Ithaqua was still after him. 

     “Stay still for me, you little…” Norton grumbled as he slipped into the shack. He peered into the hat, where the cat lay on its back and mewed at him with wide eyes. Norton promptly slammed the hat against his chest as the sound of wind and stilts digging into the dirt grew louder. 

     Norton dropped a magnet and made a run for it. And yet, he felt slower. The pain was getting to him, and soon he could only make it to a palletted area close to that shack before having to take deep, heavy breaths. 

     He swore under his breath as he heard the crunch of dirt nearby. He held the cat closer to himself and sank down behind a stray medical bed, hoping Ithaqua wouldn’t see him. 

    Norton attempted to nurse his arm with a stray roll of bandages laying around while the cat, looking on from its hat of a shell, crept out and nuzzled his knee with its pink little nose. 

     The man didn’t notice until a few moments later,  when his breathing stilled and his arm was poorly wrapped. Norton groaned, because being a prospector was being no doctor. 

     The little cat made it better somehow, what with its quiet purrs as it sniffed the now bandaged arm. 

     And for a moment, all was well. It was a quiant little scene, and Norton didn’t realize the cat was  not supposed to be out of its shield until after all the petting, booping, and more bandaging (even the cat couldn’t resist those bandages, and soon it was transformed into a mummy). 

     Needless to say, the roll of bandages was no more what with Norton (and his child’s) new look. 

     What was, and still was, was Ithaqua— who hadn’t quite left the area and had been watching Norton (or at least his head, for the cat at least had the decency to stay out of relatively out of sight).

      He had been secretly scheming ten different ways to terrorshock a prospector. Ithaqua still recalled fondly the olden days when Norton Campbell was no professional survivor— all the times Norton had flung himself into a wall or, better yet, into Ithaqua himself. And yet Norton had improved all too well and could take a axe without so much as a whimper.

      How annoyingly overpowered survivors were getting these days…

     Regardless of how Ithaqua felt between the Hunter-Survivor conflicts and probable disparities, he took the initiative to act immediately.

     A horrible gust of wind whipped next to Norton, and soon, beside the pallet Norton was hiding behind, was the Hunter.

     With a smirk (concealed behind his mask), Ithaqua raised his axe in order to slam it into Norton’s head (he could take it! He was destined for containing!)

     But lo and behold, a third party acted first. 

     With a cruel hiss and  a cry of war Norton’s scraggly white kitten lept off Norton’s shoulder and sank its claws into Ithaqua’s right shoulder.

     Ithaqua stood still for a moment. Who wouldn’t, when one was faced with a cat instead of a prospector’s magnet? 

     But the cat was relentless.

     It hissed again and promptly clawed Ithaqua’s mask, quickly knocking it off.

     Ithaqua squealed in horror. Norton took the opportunity to slam the pallet onto his head as Ithaqua quickly slammed his hands over his face.

     “Oh, Mother!” Ithaqua cried as he nursed both his exposed face and his head. That would leave a bump.

     Norton did not look back as he scooped the cat (whom he had shoved back into the hat as it retreated from Ithaqua’s face) into his arms, hurriedly vaulting another pallet, headed for anywhere but there.

     Hopefully he didn’t just get himself into even more trouble. 

     But deep down, he knew trouble (in the form of a defensive, cute little mummy-cat) only stayed if he let it. And he’d eat his pride— now he didn’t want to let it go.   

Chapter Text

     Of course, no action came without its consequences. 

     The consequence of Norton’s kitten doing such an unprecedented (but welcome) deed was revealed one day— in fact, the next day—when Norton had Eli and Naib over once more. 

     “Norton,” Eli began with a smile that no one could see reaching his eyes. “Naib and I have been thinking… and we think we’ve finally solved your dilemma.”

     The prospector hadn’t bothered to tell them about his kitty’s little offense against Ithaqua. But… was that even what they were referencing?

     The dilemma of Ithaqua’s poor pretty boy face being on display (which Tracy Reznik promptly laughed at and taunted at the exit gate, according to Norton’s teammate Luchino)? The dilemma of Norton’s gems being so grimy and dirty from just about everybody’s hands making contact with them despite all the ways he tried locking them out? The dilemma of still not getting the money the Baron promised him—?

     “We want you to consider naming your cat. Kitten. Baby. Whatever that thing is…. After one of your favorite gemstones,” Naib completed with his deadpan expression balancing out Eli’s winning smile. Both were equally uncanny. That duo, offering pet advice? 

     Well, it was better than some of the other things Norton had heard out of their mouths. 

     “Sounds great—“ Norton began, thinking that for once in his life he would be able to hold a normal conversation with these two. But alas, a knock came on the door and everyone flinched.

     Norton’s cat scampered under the bed, as she was trained to do by Eli whenever guests were around. Naib saw her tail briefly stick out before it was flung into the bottom-of-the-bed abyss with the rest of the thing’s body. 

     Eli audibly gulped, his eyes bulging from his face as he reached out for the doorknob. Norton promptly slapped the man’s hand away and opened the door. 

     And before them was… 

     That journalist woman! Norton wrinkled his nose. What was her name… Elphie, Ella…

     “Eurydice,” Eli’s face snapped back to its usual calm expression. “A pleasure to see you this fine afternoon.”

     Brooke Rose chirped from the Seer’s shoulder, staring inquisitively at the blonde woman, who offered Eli a nod before facing Norton. She stared straight at him with a rather curious expression. 

     “Yeah?” Norton folded his arms, prompting her to speak. 

     “The Baron wants you for something,” Eurydice placed a hand on her hip, returning his sass twofold. “I’ll be the one escorting you today.”

     “Miss Lamb, I must ask— how long were you standing behind this man’s door?” Naib stepped forward, meeting her gaze. He scanned her up and down. The woman did the same.

     “Only until I knocked. No worries; I didn’t snoop around or anything of the sort.”

     Naib’s eyes drifted to Eli, whose eyes fell onto Norton, who tried his hardest to avoid looking at his bed or anywhere else aside from that ridiculously pristine-looking woman’s face. Norton disliked her already, although he could say the same for just about any rich fellow strutting through the manner who wasn’t Melly (whom he had a begrudging respect for). 

     “Alright,” Norton brushed past the woman. “Let’s go, then.”

     Before the door closed, Norton locked eyes with Eli and Naib. He briefly gestured to the bed and mouthed what was presumably a curse before Eli hurriedly shut the door. 

                                                                     ~

     Norton followed after the quick-footed woman who looked straight ahead and paced forwards as if she were some model on a runway. Which was not entirely unexpected, because Oletus had a bit of a track record for its (RIGGED!… in Norton’s opinion) fashion shows, where Violetta would end up showcasing Naib and specifically Naib in ten different outfits that were somehow all individually unique and outrageous. Of course, Norton had his fair share of fame on the runway as well, but that was for another day— when he wasn’t worrying about managing a newfound family of two. 

     But speaking of Oletus’ bizarre culture, Norton always hated the secrecy regarding the Baron and his office. Only the messenger of the week or month or whatever the gold it was —Norton never got assigned to it, after all— was allowed to know the location of the office, and once their time was up, they would mysteriously forget it.

     Memory— why was everyone’s memory in Oletus so strangely forgetful? Why did Norton never remember a word from the Baron when Norton could tell anybody all about a single square foot of a cave? It bugged him to no end, a quiet itch in the back of his mind, and yet every day that passed allowed him to get more and more used to it.

     Oletus was just bizarre. And Norton hoped that his cat would survive in it.

     “You seem to visit him quite a lot, Mr. Campbell,” Eurydice remarked, shooting him a brief glance before heading up a flight of complicated swirling stairs, which were apparently an addition to the building since it was first made.  

     “Eli and Naib visit me, not the other way around,” Norton grumbled, not willing to entertain pleasantries with her.

     “No, I mean the Baron.”

     “Maybe he just really likes me.”

     “Perhaps.”

     More stairs. More silence. Until Eurydice got bored enough by the sound of their shoes against the stairs and wanted to replace it with her voice instead.

     “I’ve always wondered about that hat of yours, Mr. Campbell. Do you have a stash of candles in your room to replace each one after every match?”

     “None of your business.”

     The journalist, as journalists were, was relentless. “And your piercings… they suit you quite well.”

     “Is that an insult?”

     “What kind of material are they? Did you get them when you were young?”

     “Pay me a pound for every question you ask and then I’ll answer.”

     Suddenly, she stopped. Norton almost slammed into her and grunted as she turned around and took out her wallet.

     “Not right now, you goof,” Norton said, although his hand was already outstretched. She placed some money accordingly, although it was much less than he would have liked.

     He stuffed it all in his back pocket and the two resumed their trek. For a brief moment, he was hit with the all the things the money she just gave him could get him: one of those tacky baby bonnets that could fit a furry little head, some canned food (tuna, preferably, because that’s what Eli recommended for malnourished little beings), and a small knife to trim down sharp nails (or claws). But only for a brief moment, because the moment he imagined that ugly cat in a pink baby bonnet, he threw the image into the depths of his mind lest it ever return. 

      “Why do you walk so fast?” Norton complained as Eurydice hit the landing before him.

     “None of your business,” she answered, although much more lightheartedly than he had said earlier. Once he caught up to her, she led him down a hallway that bore four doors on the left. She stopped at the second one and gently knocked a certain rhythm on it.

      She turned to him, and although no response could be heard from the other side, she gestured to the door.

     “You’re on your own from here,” she smiled at him before walking away, just as quickly as she always had.

     Unlike her, Norton couldn’t simply walk away. Not from working, not from matches, and not even from a mewling little beast under his bed. 

     So he entered. Unhappily, with a scowl on his face as he opened the door. But he entered, nonetheless.

     Once he did, the door shut behind him. Large windows across the room allowed a deathly amount of sunlight to shine through. A certain scent wafted throughout the room, something like pine. It made the man rather sleepy.

          “Mr. Campbell,” the Baron’s distorted voice reverberated throughout the room, with him seated high and mighty in his own chair facing towards the windows. He himself was elevated, on a platform supported by twelve steps of steep, carpeted stairs. Norton didn’t know how that even worked in a house like Oletus, but he wasn’t interested in knowing regardless.

      As if on instinct, Norton headed for the only other piece of comfortable furniture —a velvet colored couch— in the room and stiffly room a seat on it. It had a luxuriously silky texture that Norton ran his hands over as the Baron spoke once more.

     “Do you know why you are here?” his voice echoed throughout the room, as if amplified. 

     “No,” Norton replied, raising his voice in case the Baron wouldn’t be able to hear him from so high up.

     The chair turned. Norton could barely see the Baron’s face due to the sunlight’s glare. 

     “No need to raise your voice. I can hear you just fine.”

     “Whatever.”

     “Anywho, let’s get this matter settled,” the Baron descended down the stairs, his voice level and annoyingly chipper. He had a mask on his face, Norton realized, as the Baron stopped in front of the couch. “Eta Viluf, that is to say, Ithaqua, has complained to me about an… unregulated method of harassment used against him?”

     “Oh, boohoo. He’s just peeved his baby face was exposed to the world,” Norton sank into the couch, squinting at the white mask shielding the Baron’s face. Huh. Like a baby Ithaqua with no stilts. And with much more money.

     “Hush, please. Anyway, he claims that this was not caused by magnets, but by a separate entity?” the Baron moved to the side of the couch where there was a small table. He picked up the pitcher on it and poured whatever liquid was inside into a small, fancy glass with birds on it. 

     “Not my problem,” Norton yawned— both in part because it really wasn’t his job to care and because the scent of pine was growing stronger and his eyes were weary. He felt as though he should’ve had a little more regard for the issue in case the cat and therefore his crime against Oletus were to be exposed, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

     Heavens, was he comfortable. It was concerning being this nice and cozy. 

     But it sure was nice…

     “So typical of you,” the Baron chuckled and handed him the glass with birds on it. 

     “What’s in it?” Norton took a whiff. 

     The Baron stifled a chuckle. “Just take a sip. Anywho, do you have any idea what that separate entity was? A stray fist, perhaps? I’ve always noticed you get a little more than aggressive when you see fit, Mr. Campbell.”

     Norton swirled the liquid around in the glass. After a few moments, he deduced the thing to be wine. Once he was done playing detective, he looked up at the Baron with a blank stare and said, “Yeah. Something like that.”

     “And yet your knuckles seem just fine. You’d have thought a hit to the mask would’ve caused bleeding. Then again, you are particularly able-bodied…”

     The prospector had no comment to that, and no further comments as the Baron continued rambling about various observations while inspecting Norton’s hands. Meanwhile, the Prospector took several swigs of wine before the Baron eventually let him be, clicking his tongue and standing a few inches away now.

     Norton could tell he was being judged. And he didn’t give fool’s gold about it. Once the Baron had stopped talking, and had ceased for a while now in hopes Norton would explain himself, Norton launched into the following rant. 

     “What I’d do to be rich,” Norton sighed, shutting his eyes while attempting to lie down. “Sometimes I think my hard work doesn’t get my head anywhere.”

     The Baron simply watched as Norton unwinded and took another sip of wine.

     “Any other questions? Pay me a pound for each and I’ll answer ‘em all, heh,” his voice trailed off. By now, his glass was completely empty and Norton almost let it fall to the floor. Thankfully, the Baron was quick to notice and caught the glass, huffing before putting it back on the table. 

     “You seem rather content with the couch alone,” the Baron folded his arms. “But tell me this: you weren’t using any… foreign items outside of the match area, were you?”

     “I don’t think so,” Norton mumbled, turning away from the Baron. “What d’ya put in that wine, huh, big shot—?”

     “What do you mean ‘think so’? You mean to tell to me you didn’t throw a punch or what, Mr. Campbell?”

     “I dunno… you Oletus people always move the goalpost for me so I can always get in trouble. Hate that, by the way.”

     “Can you look up here and stop acting like this is your office?”

     Norton straightened and turned over to face the Baron again. “Don’t put such comfortable couches then, ya smart— ahh… you Baron.”

     The Baron adjusted the monocle over his mask. Yet another weird rich people thing. Why bother with your eyes when you can barely see out of a mask? Just cause you could? Heh. Norton wished he could say the same.

     Although he was much too preoccupied with getting comfy on the couch than he was with speaking, and for some reason he felt zero shame in doing so. Normally he would’ve, but at the moment the sheer amount of joy in being able to feel like he was rich, away from everybody else, and a slight tipsy feeling overid his common sense. So what if the Baron was judging him? Not like he saw Norton in matches or made his breakfast or told him he was on his own. Not like Norton would remember such pleasure after being kicked out later.

      He laid back down again and turned away from the Baron. 

      “Mr. Campbell, just answer this one final question. What was the item used in harassing Mr. Viluf?”

     “Mister who?”

     “Ithaqua.”

     Norton yawned once more, his voice muffled. “Uh…”

     Silence.

     “‘Uh’ is not an answer, Mr. Campbell. My word, what has gotten into you?”

     “Must be the wine,” Norton answered, his voice softer now. “Or whatever the beryl you sprayed in the room.”

     “Beryl…? Is all you can ever reference gemstones—?”

     “Stop hating on me,” Norton groaned, as dramatically as only the Baron would ever know. He was something of a diva in these private quarters. A very gloomy, whiny, and consistent diva. Only to the Baron, of course. “I’m sick and tired of you rich people hating on me because I worked my hands off in the mines. You know how I felt when you looked at my hands earlier? Embarrassed. Because a silly rich toff like you will never understand what me or my family or my daughter or anybody down in the caves of Scotland dying of black lung went through just to survive.”

     An oh-so passionate speech. The Baron could practically hear the torment (and drunkenness) slipping from the prospector’s voice. The Baron flicked a fake tear from his mask. 

     “…Oh wow,” was all the Baron said, almost patronizingly. “I didn’t ask for your life story. Not like I haven’t heard it a thousand times before, after all.”

     It had all the key words of the typical Norton rant that occurred every other meeting: me, tired, toff, caves, black lung… family, daughter, Scotland…

     Hold on. Daughter?

     Another round of silence had filled the room. The Baron watched Norton’s body rise and fall. But nothing could stop the Baron from shouting: 

     “Mr. Campbell, since when were you a father?!” 

Chapter Text

     “Eli, I don’t remember a single word I’ve said. I don’t remember if I told him. I don’t remember what he told me. I don’t remember if he had tortured the answer out of me or begged me for the answer and if  I even did tell him. Eli, Eli, what am I going to do—?”

     “Hush now, Prospector,” Eli hummed, sitting beside Norton and patting his back. The latter had his face buried in his hands, and while he usually hated losing his composure in front of others, he would make an exception this one time. 

     Why? Because the paper the Baron had left Norton with said something so cryptic, so dangerous, and so very alarming. It read, at the very bottom in fine letters:

     “Please let me know if your daughter needs child support at our next meeting. You told me she was just a baby, after all.”

     That was all. And yet the prospect of having revealed the cat to the Baron so quickly shook Norton to his very core. 

     Did he tell the Baron that his daughter was, in actuality, a stray, violent cat? Eli had assured him not, because why would the Baron offer child support for a cat?

     As Eli continued to murmur cheesy yet soothing words into Norton’s ear (which was surprisingly helpful), Norton formed an idea of what the Baron thought was going on with him.

     If Norton wasn’t a silly goose who revealed deeply personal things such as the adoption of an illegal cat, then…

     “Shut it, Eli. I know it now— the Baron thinks I’m a father who has left behind his newborn daughter with my non-existent girlfriend or wife or whatever and that’s why he’s offering child support!”

     “Who’s the lucky lady?” Eli smiled, only catching the last few words Norton said. The Seer had been soothing himself too, because if the jig was up for Norton then it was up for Eli as well. Especially because the Baron seemed to have a fondness for making Eli work harder than everyone else. Maybe it was because of his wisdom. Maybe it was because he actually had a life outside of the Manor. Or maybe he was just extremely dashing and mature. 

     “Eli! The wife isn’t real! I’m single!”

     “Wait, what?”

     “You goof! I’m just telling you what the Baron thinks I have! The only thing close to a kid in my possession is that blasted balding cat!”

     “Hey! Be kind to her. She can hear you, you know. And she’s not even balding anymore— I made sure of it!”

     Norton slammed his hand over his face again and groaned. “I can already smell the rumors, Eli. Can’t you? Can’t you hear the masses of hunters asking me how my baby is back home while they dance around me as I’m chaired? Can’t you hear Michiko and Valentina and God knows who else inviting me to watch over Robbie and that little girl who comes around sometimes? I’m not ready to be a father, Eli! I never was one in the first pla—!”

     “Relax, relax!” Eli gently pushed the prospector away from his face. “You’re overthinking it—“

     “What am I going to tell Naib?!” Norton cried into his mining hat, the sound alerting his cat who quickly paced over to them. 

     “Norton,” Eli sternly said. “Get that hat off your face and listen to me.”

     Norton slowly peeked out from it with bloodshot eyes. The cat hopped into his lap and instinctively, Norton started petting it. It purred and even brushed itself against his hand when he would stop.

     “Everything will be fine. Whatever happens in that room stays in that room. Why would anybody else know about the cat aside from the Baron? Just don’t bring her into any more matches,” Eli calmly reassured him. He had never seen Norton so melodramatic before, but maybe that was because back then Norton wasn’t awoken in the middle of night to the sound of a crying cat begging for affection. And also because back then the only paranoia Norton had was about people stealing his gems. Gems were quite different from a living organism— Eli knew that full well. 

     “But…” Norton whined, before promptly clearing his throat and nodding without any further argument. He lifted the cat into his arms and let her lick his cheek. Even though it had only been days since she was first adopted, she was already experiencing rapid improvements. 

     Although her looks were still… interesting, she seemed much more full of life and energetic than she was when Norton first took her in. The realization of that alone made Eli smile.

     After a few more moments of Norton and the cat nuzzling up to each other (Norton pretended Eli wasn’t watching, knowing full well that the nosy Seer was), Norton spoke again. “All right… so, I’ll just go about my business per usual and tell the Baron I was just lying about having a kid or something?”

     “Well, maybe don’t lie… just tell him you don’t need child support. After all, I am child support. And Naib, I suppose.”

     “…Nice way to put it, Eli. I’ll keep that in mi—“

     The door creaked open, revealing Naib once more in the doorway. He wore a dim, deadpan expression once more. He had a new bandage over his nose and smelled of hose water. 

     He did not look pleased. 

     “Welcome back from your match, Naib,” Eli smiled, standing up to escort Naib into the room. Naib was stiff, but allowed Eli to do so anyway. After a moment of quiet (and the cat sniffing Naib’s shoe), Naib cleared his throat and stared Norton dead in the eye:

     “Norton, since when were you a father?”

     Norton buried his face in his hands. 

     “Naib… I can explain—“ he began, but Eli promptly interrupted. 

     “Naib, who told you about that?!”

     The mercenary sighed, his eyes dead. “I overheard it from a certain novelist…”

                               ~

     Orpheus has always been a bit of an… interesting character. And character literally, as he was a writer. 

     He wrote a lot on the side, on the main, and even as the Baron of Oletus Manor. Being a Baron was hard (nobody really knew how tough it was to get a coherent answer out of traumatized people like he did), but dealing with writer’s block was often harder.

     Thankfully for him (and not so much for anyone else in the Manor, especially the star of this story Norton), nothing quite got his creative juices flowing then a little bit of gossip, chaos, and flocks of people fawning over fatherly men.

      The first match he went into as his survivor self (for nobody knew he was the Baron— Orpheus was a very mysterious and cunning man), he acted as though he had heard the rumor from his partner in crime Joseph Desaulniers, who was known to be a gossip, chaotic, and quite fatherly himself. Not that Joseph would mind, of course. They often made each other take the blame for things the other did. For example: it wasn’t Orpheus hiding recordings of Norton cussing people out during those Baron meetings. 

     Orpheus’ plan worked spectacularly well. All one had to do was whisper, and catch the ear of either a whimpering decoder or even a brazen sacrifice of a survivor for the rumor to spread from there. But was it really a rumor if it was true?

     Norton said it himself. He had a daughter. Somehow. (Orpheus was not surprised the man was able to charm a lady, despite how standoffish he was. Survival of the charmingest!)

     Anyway, it started with Orpheus whispering to himself at a cipher, casually decoding next to Tracy the Mechanic. She had a tendency to look preoccupied and focused, but Orpheus knew the mousy lady was prone to fall prey to a good story. As was everybody! 

     So when Tracy heard of the tall, brooding man named Norton Campbell having a daughter, she connected the dots instantly and began to pry about it. When the hunter, Ann the Disciple (of a cat god) came along, even she stopped to listen. Everybody in the Manor had some kind of soft spot for kids, or at the very least, a soft spot for men hiding their soft spots.

     It all spread from there. Orpheus went into more matches. Ann and Tracy and the two other players from his first match spread the news whether by accident or by choice. When Orpheus had seen Norton’s pal Naib , he immediately broke the news. 

     It went a little something like this:

     Naib was innocently searching through a chest when Orpheus joyfully walked (skipped) up to him with his book in hand, thinking out loud.

     “Wow, Mr. Campbell is such a brave and honest man, working so hard to help out his daughter…”

     Now the novelist sat at his desk in his office in a room where everyone who visited forgot what had happened to them, in a room where he got to sit all high and mighty and use a state of the art voice changer (made by one of those smarty pants decoders without pay, obviously) and wear a fancy mask. It was only day one of this fun little experiment. 

     Norton had always been a bit of a troublesome man after all. It was only time for Orpheus to return the favor. 

                                                                    ~

     “Come on, Norton! Just point to the gem you want to name your baby after! I believe in you!” Eli cheered, gesturing vividly to the line of gems the trio of a merc, seer, and prospector arranged. 

     “What are you, a cheerleader?” Naib scoffed, but he in turn also flashed Norton a thumbs-up. 

     To keep Norton safe from the public eye and to get his mind off of all the things the public eye wanted to hear about him, his friends voluntold him to pick a name for the cat. Because nobody wanted to call it Cat. Or Kitten. Or Baby— at least in Naib’s case. 

     They had narrowed the gems down to three: pearl, topaz, and sapphire. Naib was particularly fond of topaz, which had a bit of a presence in India. Eli liked sapphire because it reminded him of Gertrude’s lovely eyes. Norton loved all the gems equally because he was a prospector and really liked making money off of them (and admiring their beauty). 

     “I… Oh, gold,” Norton sighed and slumped forward— the seventh time today. The cat sat on his lap once more until it crawled out and inched closer to the table. Norton was seated at the edge of his bed and the seer-merc duo had moved the gem table closer to the bed so that it was within arms length reach. 

     “What’s wrong?” Eli tilted his head. Naib ran his fingers through his new wig. Eli quickly adjusted the wig so that Naib’s forehead wasn’t so exposed. 

     Norton promptly sat up straight and took the cat, who had been attempting to claw her way onto the table, into his arms. He gave her a nice, long stare into her eyeballs, inspected her healing patches of white fur, and then looked at his friends. 

     “Pearl,” Norton announced, at first quietly. Then after he took a look at the pearl before him, he announced it louder. “I’m naming her Pearl.”

                                                                 ~

     The days afterward weren’t so easy as naming a cat. The Manor had become a breeding field for landmines everywhere he went. The garden wasn’t safe from Emma’s blatant prying and congratulations for a child. The new chapel wasn’t safe from Ann or Andrew praying for the child’s well-being (Norton feared what would happen if Ann the Cat Lady saw what his child really was). Norton’s room wasn’t even safe either, because in it was the creature who was why his reputation was in shambles.

     Eli and Naib, per the Prospector’s request, had attempted to diffuse the situation to no avail. Every day would have a new rumor or story or plead, including but not limited the following: 

     “That’s why Norton is such a grumpy guy! He has so many kids!”

     “Aww, his daughter’s just a little baby! Wait… do you think HE’S  that little stray girl’s dad?! It all makes sense now!”

     “I bet he’s secretly married to Melly! No? Wait… maybe Eurydice? I know his wife is in the Manor!!!”

     Everyone was, in short, becoming a conspiracy theorist. And by the time the rumors shifted to his very much NONEXISTENT wife, Norton had had enough.

     This particular incident was in a match where Norton was going hunting. He brandished his pickaxe with pride, ready to defeat whatever survivor would stumble in his way first.

     The rival survivors were, unfortunately, some of the biggest gossips on Oletus’ planet. They consisted of that sly Explorer named Kurt, Demi “Barmaid” Bourbon, Orpheus, and rather surprisingly, Freddy Riley. 

     So when Norton squinted his eye and aimed his pickaxe at a wiggling, active cipher with each passing step, he was surprised to see Demi spring off the cipher and bounce towards him.

     “Heya, Norton! Nice to see ya here.”

     There was no fear in her eyes. To be fair, the woman was usually too tipsy to be afraid (or, to her credit, simply too jolly and joyous to bother fearing), but Norton felt his stomach churn as he watched her pull out three bottles of wine(?). It was almost ominous. A… what did Eli call it? A bad omen.

     Norton immediately swung his pickaxe at the poor, smiling woman. 

     But something strange happened— or rather, it was the lack of something. She remained fearless.

     “Congrats on the kiddo! I know your probably real sensitive about us yapping about her, but it's a real treat having someone you love at home. We just wanna celebrate that.”

     Norton was tempted to smack her again, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He wasn’t paid for being a hunter, although he was promised money. No money, no reason why he should hit a lady about to hand him some fine wine.

     He remained silent, of course, staring  at her with unwavering disdain.

    “What’s her name? Your name’s Norton, right? ‘S it something Scottish? Or British?” And after that last question, Demi leaned uncomfortable close and added: “Is your wife really somebody livin’ down here in Oletus?”

     Norton’s mind broke. Eli and Naib had already heard a myriad of rumors, this one included. But this had been his first time hearing of that particular one.

     When faced with an opportunity to fear, respond with aggression: and Norton did just that. He raised his pickaxe and growled, although it was unfortunately more of a whimper. “What… no… what in the fool’s gold made you think that?!” 

     “So ya do have a wife in Oletus! Dang, Norton— I never thought you’d be a hit with the ladies! Take the wine. I'll gladly hear your life’s story.”

     ‘Give them an inch and they’ll take your life…’ Norton downcastedly thought as Demi swished the bottle of Dovlin around in her hand. He had always heard it was delicious. No, more than that— addicting.

     He did kind of want to drown his sorrows away and forget about his botched reputation for a moment… but that was when Kurt showed up to the party.

     “Ohoho! Demi, has he gone friendly for us today?” the once tiny man grew to full size with a smile on his potato-like face. 

     “You can thank me for all that and more,” Demi plopped the bottle into Norton’s hands as she faced Kurt. “I found out his wife is somewhere in Oletus!”

     “Ohh?! Norton, you must tell us who it i—“

     “I don’t have a wife and she’s not in Oletus,” Norton blurted, his tone flat. He was slumped down and sank into the snow of the map. He had given up on hunting by now, and now there were only two ciphers left. Or one? He had lost his sense of time… or rather, his sanity. He unscrewed the Dovlin and looked into the bottle, tempted to dump it into the snow.

     “Then how d’ya have a kid?” Demi squinted at him.

     “The child is adopted, obviously,” Kurt put a hand to his chin. “That’s quite admirable of you, Mr. Campbell. Never thought you to be a sweetheart.”

     “No, no… why would he adopt a kid?” Demi stared at Norton as though he were abstract art now. “He’s a prospector— you know how serious he is about his work. No time for  the orphanage process.”

     “Serious about work to support his adopted chi—“

     “She’s not adopted, either,” Norton grumbled. His mind was too fried to understand that he was only making the situation worse. 

     “Oh! So he does have a child. And this child is… a bastard?” Kurt practically jumped in shock of his apparent realization.

     “My gosh, Kurt!” Demi cried. “You can’t just call the kid a bastard!”

     “She’s not a bastard!” Norton pinched his nosebridge. At this point, he realized that the situation, as it had been the whole time, was spiraling out of control thanks to Orpheus’ ridiculous rumor. But how much could he tell them without selling himself out of his ultimate goal: keeping that silly meow meow daughter of a cat safe? 

     “Is your daughter even real?” Peeking out from behind a cipher was Freddy Riley, who pushed his glasses up his nosebridge. “From the looks of it, she seems to be… a symbol of something. Perhaps she’s a metaphysical being, a symbol for your gr—“

     “Shut up, Riley,” all three of the Oletus Manor residents begged. 

     “Well, Norton, if anything unfortunate happens between you and your wife…”

     “Oh. My. Gold. Everyone, get out!”        

     And that was how Norton learned a little bit more about the rumors. And also why he committed his ever first match surrender.

                                                                      ~

     “Eurydice. We need your help.”

     In the darkness of the Manor, two men surrounded a blindsided blonde Journalist in a nightgown who on her way to the first floor bathroom… near the men’s wing. 

     “About what?” she paused her walk, lifting up her lantern close to the mysterious men’s eyeballs. One of them resisted the urge the urge to break his steely military stare straight through Eurydice’s eyes. 

     “Stop that,” the blindfolded one next to him demanded, moving the lantern away from his accomplice’s face. “He has blue eyes. You’re going to damage his vision.”

     “Eli…” the blue-eyed and bald man next to Eli began. He only sighed afterwards, as if holding back a disappointed rebuke.

     “What do you two need help with?” Eurydice resisted the urge to grin at the duo’s dynamic. They were both serious… seriously humorous. “Naib, right?”

     “Yeah. It’s… about Campbell,” Naib hesitated. “You know just how horrendous it's been for him these last few days.”

     “Everyone goes crazy about the mere thought of him having a wife while nobody bats an eye at the actual couple of Oletus,” Eli shook his head.

     “I suppose it's only human nature,” Eurydice shrugged.

     “To want to know who a man’s wife is?” Naib tilted his head, narrowing his eyes.

     “Norton is a hit with the poor and rich alike. He’s quite… iconic, you could say.”

     “Really? He’s quite impolite when it all comes down to it,” Eli folded his arms.

     “And that is why so many fawn over him,” Eurydice concluded. And despite how nonsensical it was, reality was proof of the matter.

     The two men caught on to her point and decided to get back to their own.

     “Well, of course you’d know all about those kinds of things, being a journalist and all that,” Naib flippantly replied. “So now we need your help is fixing Norton’s image so that everyone returns to fawning over him and not his baby.”

     “Is the baby real?” Eurydice questioned.

     “No,” Naib answered, just as Eli said, “Yes.”

     Eli cleared his throat and entered the conversation. “That is inconsequential, dear friend. It is crucial to his sanity that you support Mr. Campbell in his time of need.”

     “I’m a reporter, not a gossiper,” Eurydice answered.

     “You want money?” Naib whipped out a stack of cash that would make Norton foam at the mouth.

     “So you have been bribing Michiko…” Eurydice stares at the stack of yen with disgust— not because it was money, but because she did not enjoy the prospect of being bribed.

     “We’ll take that as a no,” Eli sidestepped Naib so that the money was now hidden. “How about… a free prophecy?”

     “I can get those off of tabloids.”

     Naib sighed. “I knew it— you’re a sucker for food, just like I am. Save Norton and I’ll save you a mighty fine cup of Ipoh white coffee and a truffle cake.”

      At that, Eurydice gave pause. She tilted her head. “You bake?”

     “Naib knows a guy,” Eli smiled, covering for his friend.

     “I am the guy,” Naib answered. He did not know what prompted him to add a little more to his answer. “I use those kiddie recipe books the children have. Michiko pays me to babysit them.”

     “Now that’s really what everyone should be talking about,” Eurydice grinned, letting slip a tiny chuckle. Naib and Eli sighed in relief once they realized Eurydice was now on their side.

     “Come. We can settle this somewhere more discreet,” Eurydice gestures towards the garden. “After I do my business.”

     “Oh. Of course,” Eli nodded. The two turned their backs and guarded the bathroom door. 

     “We did it,” Eli gleefully whispered to Naib.

     “Not so loud, Clark,” Naib sighed.

Chapter Text

     “So, if I’m understand this correctly… you’d like for me to defuse this situation by using my journalistic platform to defend him?” Eurydice stared at the two men before her in the garden. They all shared an uncanny amount of eye contact between each other. 

     It felt very professional. And also extremely uncomfortable. 

     “…Yeah, basically,” Naib shrugged. “Just make the little video or article or whatever— call it a creative project, if you will.”

     “I don’t really do ‘creative projects’ as a reporter, but your advice is much appreciated.”

     “Thank you, Miss Eurydice,” Eli dipped his head. “I’m sure Norton will appreciate this greatly—”

     “You two ARE going to provide me with something to go off of though, right? I… can’t just whitewash Norton’s reputation from nothing. He’s not the most pleasant man.”

     “He is to us,” Eli murmured. Naib shot him a look, as he usually did. 

     “Um… maybe you can be a little. Creative. About that as well,” Naib inhaled sharply. “Anything to get everyone’s minds off his so-called kid.”

     “So-called kid…” Eurydice repeated.

     Eli put a finger to his lips. Naib noticed and pursed his lips, looking back at Eurydice with a slight hint of anxiety. 

     “I’ve never really liked little ones,” Naib folded his arms, lying through his teeth.

     “But don’t you babysit—“

     “Not your business. Have fun with your project—“

     “I need an idea at least,” Eurydice complained.

     “Okay…” Eli nodded, putting his hand to his chin. “How about… ‘Norton Campbell— hardworking man and prospector’?”

     “No,” Eurydice shook her head. “If you want a headline that’s going to make everyone stop thinking about Norton’s child, you’ll need more than just a biography. Think… something snappy. Maybe even scandalous.”

     “‘I’m a reporter, not a gossiper,’” Naib mocked under his breath.

     “Um…” Eli’s eyes shifted to the ground. “I… I can’t think of anything. He’s an honest man. I wouldn’t want to ruin his name further.”

     “I got it,” Naib folded his arms. “‘Norton Campbell gives away all his gold to the children Michiko babysits’.”

     “Excuse you,” Eurydice chuckled. “What is with you and babysitting?”

     “Nothing!” Naib retorted, his face growing a shade of pink. “Forget I said anything. I’m tired out of my mind.”

     “This isn’t really working,” Eli sighed. “Miss Eurydice, can’t you just think of something yourself?”

     “I have a lot of negative things to say about Norton Campbell.”

      “Just bond with him and understand him better,” Eli offered. “Naib can bake you an extra cake if you do.”

     “No,” Naib glared at Eli.

     “Okay,” Eurydice pinched her nosebridge. “What about… we write an article on the kid?”

     “Are you hearing yourself?!” Eli cried just as Naib let out an indignant grunt. “Miss Eurydice, this is the exact opposite of what we told you to do!”

     “No, no. Hear me out,” Eurydice held out her hands. “Everyone’s been making all sorts of rumors about Norton’s kid… and his wife. But if I write the article on the truth of it all, everyone will stop with their rumors and stop caring!”

     Naib and Eli then glanced at each other. It was a very smart idea.

     If only there was a wife and an actual child to begin with.

     “We can always lie about it,” Eli mouthed to Naib, who struggled to comprehend his words.

     “Lie about what?” Eurydice tapped her foot on the ground.

     “Well… Norton is a very private man, Miss Eurydice—“ Eli began.

     “Well, Mister Eli, that’s his problem and not mine. If he wants to save his reputation he ought to tell the truth and come clean. It will make everything easier.”

     “She’s… not wrong…” Naib hesitantly agreed. “If only Norton’s circumstances weren’t so… interesting.”

     Eli glared at him from behind his blindfold and leaned closer to Naib’s. “The child is not even human.”

     “You’re the smart one. Figure something out,” Naib gently pushed Eli away.

     Eli blinked.

     And then he looked to the two other people in the room. 

     He put his hand to his chin once more and then looked out the window. He dipped his head. Then he began pacing around the greenhouse. Brooke Rose hooted in his ear. Eli brushed her off.

     “Is he praying?” Eurydice whispered to Naib.

     “I dunno,” Naib answered, dumbfounded at whatever Eli was doing.

    After a few more minutes of pacing, Eli faced Eurydice once more. “So… Miss Eurydice.”

     “Yes…?” Eury stared back.

     “If Norton’s ‘child’ was… actually in the manor… what would you do?”

     “What…? His child is in the…” Eurydice’s eyes widened. Her frown deepened as well. “What would you want me to do? You’re not serious, are you?”

     “At a loss, I see…” Eli paced around the room once more.

     Eurydice sighed and tried to form a coherent answer. “Well, if you really want my opinion… perhaps Norton could… reveal his child. Get the crowd over with, I suppose.”

     “The Baron will have his head,” Naib grumbled.

     “Not if we frame it right,” Eurydice replied. “If… if somehow this child really is with Norton in the manor, then we can frame Norton as this father figure everyone’s been crazing about. And… if everyone is all over him and his child, they won’t want the Baron to hurt him or take the child away.”

     Eli nodded. Naib perked up.

     Eury continued. “Does that work for everyone? It's a big enough stunt to capture everyone’s attention, and a bit of a gamble, but I think it's doable.”

     “You have to promise the child won’t get hurt,” Naib shook his head. “Norton loves that thing. God knows what he’ll do if the Baron tries to take it away from him.”

     “The Baron is just a man. And us residents far outnumber the staff,” Eury countered. “I think we should go with this plan. I will work my hardest to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

     Naib and Eli looked at each other once more. The plan seemed… risky, but it was the best thing they’d heard all night. 

     “We’ll bring the child to you tonight. At midnight. Meet us here,” Naib straightened and looked to Eury. 

     “Will Norton be there as well?” Eury inquired.

     “We’ll see,” Eli sighed. “…We’ll see.”

                                          ~

A page from Norton Campbell’s diary; the ink is fresh and there is a paw print on the top: 

     I’ve never really wanted a kid.

     Between work and everything else in life I figured kids were a burden. Plus, the only woman I’d want to marry is someone who’d make me rich. 

     I’ve never fallen in love with someone or had the luck to meet a lady who’d love me back. Which sounds stupid, because when has a marriage ever really been about love?

     Maybe if you’re rich, sure. But there’s that word again: rich.

     Why do some people get rich in the first place? Certainly they’re not better human beings. They’re scum like everybody else. But I guess it's how they get rich that matters: by crushing the backs of people like me.

     Stupid toffs. They can make money just like that while I have to live in this blasted manor.

     But I guess not everything is too terrible. I’m out of the mines. The food is… okay. Better than what I’m used to. The people are pains in the ass, but at least they’re somewhat interesting.

     Even though I still don’t have the money, I have some things. I get some neat gemstones from others or from looking around the manor, like a stupid kiddie prize from the Baron. (I hate him, by the way. Rich prat.) I get a roof over my head… in a rich house. I get food, water, showers. Showers is a big one.

     Even bigger than that is the cat. I’m such an idiot for taking it in. It's just like a kid— a waste of space and resources.

     But. I care for it. I like it. I like holding it. I like how it comes to me when I make stupid noises or click my tongue or, even worse, meow like it. I like how it searches my room looking for treasure. I like how it hides in random spaces in my room and I’ll find it sleeping there in the middle of the night. Or sometimes I’ll wake up and see it sniffing me.

     She’s growing kind of fat now. I don’t know what Eli’s feeding her. He’d better be feeding her healthy stuff. I don’t know. I’m not the animal guy.

     But I’m getting off track. The cat— her name is Pearl, she looks like one— is like a kid. But I know she’s not. She won’t inherit any money when I die. She’s not ‘Pearl Campbell’. She’s ’Pearl the ugly cat’. She’s not the ‘spawn of love between a man and a woman’ or whatever these manor people think kids are. 

     Maybe I still don’t like kids. But whenever I see that cat, I think of that little girl who sometimes snatches me off rocket chairs. Or that axe boy, who beats my ass ever so often when I don’t give him candy. 

     It's probably harder having a baby than a pet cat. But I guess for me it's  like having a sneak peek into having one. Stupid, I know.

     I guess Pearl makes me hate them a little less than I did before. Because even if I call her a waste of space or whatever, it doesn’t change the fact that she has value. At least in my eyes. And I like her. I like her a lot. And it shows.

     Maybe that’s how people feel about actual kids. 

     [Here the ink is smudged, as if the author intentionally tried to erase his work.]

     I gotta stop thinking about kids. What is wrong with me?

                                          ~

     “Norton,” with a bright lantern in his hand, Eli loomed over Norton. The prospector was rotting in his bed. No light shone from the outside. Naib was on the other side— a menacing presence. “Norton, wake up.”

     The man in question, with Pearl nestled on his stomach, could barely keep his eyes open. “Mmgh… I’m listening. Speak up.”

     “We’re going to fix everything,” Eli whispered as Naib slowly reached out to obtain Pearl.

     The curious kitten sniffed the mercenary’s fingers. Naib made kissy noises.

     “What…” Norton mumbled. “What do you mean by that…”

    Norton turned away from the light, shutting his eyes even together as Pearl stood up and crawled towards Naib.

     “We hired Eurydice,” Eli gulped as Naib lifted Pearl into his arms. The kitten rested there with wide blue eyes, looking down at Norton.

     “Go on,” Norton grunted, shoving his face into his pillow.

     “So we’re just going to borrow your dear little Pearl for a bit, okay, Norton?” Eli continued in the most soothing tone he possibly could muster.

     Norton began to snore.

     Eli and Naib both sighed in unison before the scheming duo headed for the door. Eli shut it as quietly as humanly possible on the way out.

    The way to the greenhouse was, unfortunately, not without its challenges.

     For some reason, there were more people awake than yesterday. Eli suspected it had something to do with Joseph losing his marbles in a match and royally cussing everyone out in French. 

     Needless to say, many survivors were disturbed with the photos from that match. Joseph was sent to the Baron an hour later. Aesop Carl was found hiding in a coffin. Margaretha Zelle was found rocking back and forth with three music boxes surrounding her. 

    Now, in the dining room sat a silent Aesop, a sorrowful Margaretha, and an arguing Ithaqua and Galatea. Near the bathrooms were the Kreiburgs, talking in French. The name ‘Joseph’ came up, in a very phlegm sounding way.

     It was humorous. But also distressing for Naib, because by now Pearl was becoming restless and would not stop meowing.

     Naib zipped up his jacket and let Pearl hide in it. The kitten mewed quietly still as Naib and Eli creeped past everyone else. Thankfully, Galatea would not shut up about Ithaqua’s god complex so any sound of purring was completely masked— either by her words, by the French, by Margaretha comforting Aesop with her music box, or by Ithaqua in turn screaming at Galatea. Nobody bothered to look at the shady cat-snatchers. 

     Eli beckoned for Naib to follow him to the greenhouse’s door. Naib checked all sides around him before Eli unlocked it for the both of them.

     Before them, Eury was waiting at the fountain, sitting on its edge. She perked up at the sight of the duo and smiled, raising her lantern.

     “Fun sight out there, huh?” Eury chuckled. “I can still hear Ithaqua and Gala arguing…”

     “Don’t spare us the details,” Naib grumbled, unzipping his jacket to reveal the kitten.

     Eury’s eyes widened as she witnessed Naib gently set the kitten down on the floor. Pearl stood there for a moment, looking at the humans around her, before simply lying down and stretching.

     “Is that one of Ann’s…?” Eury began.

     “No, Miss Eurydice… it's Norton’s.” Eli shook his head.

     “Norton’s what?” Eury looked up to the man with a furrowed brow.

     “…The… ‘child’.”

Chapter Text

     “You’re telling me… all this fuss… was over a kitten?!” Eurydice hissed, gesturing vividly to the purring kitten who sniffed Naib’s chin.

     “Well, it's not just any kitten,” Eli nervously smiled. “You see…”

     Eli leaned closer, his voice now mere whisper. “Norton tried to run away from the Manor. But for some reason, he came back. I guess this kitten happened to be following him, something or other.”

     “Ah,” Eurydice blinked. 

     And then her eyes widened. She whisper-screamed in Eli’s ear, “He tried doing what—?!”

     “Ow,” Eli inched away. “We can discuss that another time. But we need your help now.”

     “Come on, it's cute isn’t it, Lamb?” Naib set the kitten down on the floor. “Shouldn’t be too hard to whip up some kind of good press story about Pearl.”

     “Pearl…?” Eury put a hand to her chin. “So that’s her name.”

     “Yesss,” Eli cooed, clicking his tongue so Pearl would come towards him. The kitten tilted her head and bounded towards him.

     “Aw,” Eury smiled, watching the Seer pick up the surprisingly good-looking cat. “And Norton got this animal from outside of the Manor?”

     “Well, we’ve been helping him,” Naib folded his arms, keeping his eyes on Eli. “Clark’s the reason Pearl’s getting all cozy around here. Me? I’m the emotional support.”

     “You do some more things, Naib…” Eli’s lips twitched into a smile. “Don’t discredit yourself.”

     “…Whatever, Clark. Anyway, Lamb, tell us your plan now. If you have one.”

     “Hmm,” Eury tapped her chin. “We could stage something. Imagine: Norton wakes up without Pearl in his room (although one of you already told him about where you relocated her— the dining room, perhaps?). He’s frightened, so he goes around the Manor waking everyone up, asking them, ‘Where’s my Pearl? Where’s my—‘“

     “As if Campbell would embarrass himself like that,” Naib chuckled. 

     “He can act,” Eury rolled her eyes. “Anyway, he eventually finds himself in the dining room or wherever everybody else is with the kitten. And, pushing past everyone in the crowd, he takes her into his arms!”

     “What are you, a novelist?” Naib snorted.

     “Naib,” Eli sternly chided.

     Naib raised his hands in defeat.

     “So, yeah. That’s one probable plan. But Norton needs to be a very convincing actor for that one…” Eury shrugged.

     “Anything else?” Eli tilted his head, stroking Pearl’s head. 

     “We could also do the more simpler thing and have Norton bring Pearl to breakfast tomorrow. Ann does it all the time with her own cats, doesn’t she?”

     “Yeah,” Eli nodded.

     “The other one’s more entertaining,” Naib countered.

     “You’re awfully chatty tonight,” Eli grumbled, ribbing Naib’s side. 

     “I say we go with the first one.”

     “Why…?” Eli exasperatedly scoffed. 

     “Think about it, Clark: What else gets people more riled up than a lost kid?”

     “Murder. Torture. Abuse!” Eury blurted.

     Eli froze. Naib slowly looked up at the woman. And then he cleared his throat. “Thank you, Lamb.”

     “Let's just go with the first one,” Eli quietly muttered.     

                                           ~

     “Hello, Norton… we’re back with your little kitty,” Eli peered over the prospector, gently slipping Pearl back onto the bed.

     Norton was fast asleep, with his hat partially over his face. Naib kept watch in front of the door. Eli watched as Pearl curled up in the center of the bed.

     Eli stood there for a few moments, watching the duo. As one did. 

     Then he took a deep breath and pulled up the sheets so that Norton’s body would be less exposed. Pearl didn’t seem to mind.

     The Seer turned around and quietly headed over to Naib. “We’ll tell him about the plan in the morning.”

     Naib nodded. And then he asked, “Who’ll do what?” 

     “What do you mean?”

     “Who’s going to hide Pearl? And where?”

     “You can do that… I’ll tell Norton.”

     “All right. See you in the morning. You’d better wake up early.”

     “When do I not?”

     The two slipped out of the room, their quiet voices heading elsewhere. Eli closed the door behind them, with a gentle click.

                                           ~

     “Pearl?”

     Norton flung his blanket off him as he surveyed his room. 

     All his gems were still there. All 87 of them, consisting of beautiful garnets, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, opals, and amethysts. His lone pearl was there as well.

     But where the hell was Pearl?

     Norton slipped his hat on and scrambled out of bed. He checked the edge of the bed. Then under the bed. Then in the corners of the room close to the bed.

     “Pearl?!” Norton hissed. “What the gold… Pearl?!!!”

     He practically threw himself across the room, forcing his closet open to reveal several glamorous if not tacky outfits but zero (0) tacky cats named Pearl. Norton then checked under everything that had an underside— a desk and his gem tables, namely. He swore every ten seconds and even began rechecking the corners of the room.

     Then he rechecked the bed again. Then the closet. He was driving himself mad!

     “Blasted citrine!” he slammed his fist onto a gem table. “Did someone…?! No…!”

     He quickly surveyed the room again. Nothing appeared out of place. But if Pearl wasn’t in his room… 

     Norton ran to the door, ignoring the nearby mirror’s reflection of him in his dirty working clothes. It didn’t seem tampered with…

     He scowled. It didn’t matter. Perhaps some drosshead stole her while he was sleeping!

     But who?! But why?!

     Norton looked back at his idiot self in the mirror and threw his hands in the air. Where were Eli and Naib when you needed them!!

     He slammed the door open and began his pursuit of his one and only Pearl.

                                      ~

Hours earlier…

     Naib was awake early. It was no surprise. The man hadn’t had a good sleep in ages.

     Apparently Norton did, though, because when Naib went back into his room to take Pearl, he was still fast asleep. With the kitten in his arms now! 

     Adorable, really. And when the man wasn’t awake he was less of a threat. It was all too easy to coax Pearl to leave him be.

     Naib had quietly taken her into his arms and brought her to the dining room, where soon someone would come to make breakfast. In the meantime, Pearl would be his company and he would be Pearl’s. 

     Naib pulled out a chair for himself and cradled the kitten in his arms. Sitting alone in the early hours of the morning wasn’t new. Having this companion was.

     “Never seen Campbell so obsessed with anything aside from money or gems before,” Naib muttered. “He must really love you, huh, mero sathi?”

     Pearl looked up at the man and slowly blinked.

     “Is that a threat?” Naib grinned.

     The kitten wrapped her tail around his arm.

     “Maybe that’s why Campbell loves you so much. I assume he’s never gotten much unconditional love from anybody. Ever.”

     The kitten purred.

     “…Which, I know, seems harsh. But to be honest, it can be said for just about anybody in this Manor. Myself included.”

     Pearl rested her head against the man’s chest. He patted it stiffly, but lovingly. 

     “Add that to all the other trauma everyone’s experienced and it just makes everything so much harder. Especially when every day we’re forced to be around each other until the sun goes down.” 

     A beat.

     “Maybe not until the sun sets, but for a good part of the day you’re surrounded by people. Which normally is fine—that’s what the army was like— but nobody’s here because they wanted to make friends. Unless they did. But still: we’re all here because we all want something.”      

     Pearl purred.

     “And it gets tiring doing the same thing everyday  without the rewards we were all promised. People try their hardest to encourage each other, but it's not enough. You see, sathi, I need money. And when I get out of here, I’ll use it to get help.”

     Pearl tilted her head.

     “Mental help. Sounds stupid, but I need a therapist or something. And so does everyone else here. Enough said.”

     Naib patted the kitten’s head, trying to imitate Eli and his animal charmer ways. “I wonder what that day will look like, hm? When everybody’s free and when everyone has everything they want from the Baron? I imagine we’d all be very happy…”

     He yawned. “I don’t think that day’s coming anytime soon, though.”

                                            ~

       Did the Baron take Pearl? Did she simply just run away? 

     But the Baron didn’t know about Pearl, did he?! Norton and Naib and Eli had worked so hard to keep it secret! Norton begged to God if there was one that his cornhead of a kitten wouldn’t be so stupid to allow herself to be taken by a stranger! A rich, scummy one to boot! 

      Norton checked almost everywhere once he escaped from his prison of a room. A prison that apparently couldn’t hold a single kitten. 

     He checked the new and old areas closer to the sleeping wings first: 

     He started with the recreation room for classy hunters, interrupting Mary and Joseph’s game of pool because he was searching under the table making kissy noises. 

     Then he scrambled to the chapel, where he promptly interrupted (and witnessed) a service where some random priest was singing (and Andrew too, who was dressed nicer than usual. And he had an okay singing voice. But you know what he didn’t have? A cat.) 

     Then Norton stormed off to the decoder’s hideout, fearing that his precious kitty might have electrocuted herself. But alas, all he got was Tracy’s glare as she escorted him through the whole area and the sight of Luca making ajvar in a cauldron at his workdesk (never mind where the cauldron even came from).

     Norton continued his pipeline of looking for his kitten where the nerds were and headed off to the library, where he really started to lose his temper and started quietly (alas, it was a library, so not quietly enough) shouting Pearl’s name. Alice covered her ears and ignored Norton, who was peering around bookshelves and crawling under tables and making a mess of the books. Helena picked up after him with Alva Lorenz’s help. All were rather annoyed.

     Norton deserted to the bathroom once Alva approached him and gently demanded him to leave or face the consequences after Norton had screamed ‘Pearl’ at the top of his lungs, hurting Helena’s ears.

     He searched everywhere in that place, the bathroom. But he quickly left once someone, Mike Morton, entered (probably to “fix” the plumbing system again).

     So he fled to the daycare. The daycare! Because it was the last place he could have possibly looked in. He prayed once more that he would find Pearl here, because it would be really fitting and satisfying and if he could really just have something go right in his life once, God—

      “Hi Norton!!!” A few seconds after he entered, that terrifying little girl with a bright smile on her face bounded over to him with her creepy little doll Orpheus fixed ten times a day whenever someone broke it. At least she had her little friend. Norton didn’t. 

     She continued joyfully shouting at him. “It’s nice to see you! Are you going to play with us today? Robbie is sleeping, so he isn’t here yet! And neither is Michiko! And Eli is sleeping! And Mary is playing with Joseph! And Orpheus is making breakfast!”

     No. Norton’s heart sank. Breakfast was going to be soon. If he couldn’t find Pearl now… now…. Then…

     “Why are you so sad? Is it because you realized you’re a big meanie to me sometimes?”

     “Shut up,” Norton quietly retorted, folding his arms as his eyes surveyed the room. The room was decoratedly nicely and was very open— Michiko knew what she was doing when she demanded such a place from the Baron. But because it was so open, it was easy to tell whether or not a white-furred animal was hiding around. 

     And if she was, then the little girl certainly would have already caught her. And done God knows what else.

     But alas! —and Norton usually never thought of that blasted word ‘alas’— it was not so. There was no cat. 

     He had half a mind to try and search for the Baron’s room too. But he couldn’t— not only because he didn’t know where it was but because he’d look like even more of an idiot to the eyes of just about everyone who saw him scavenging for a pearl. 

     A Pearl.

     “I’m sorry. Orpheus tells me not to call people big meanies. But everyone is a meanie sometimes. And right now I was a meanie. But never again,” the little girl’s eyes darkened. “I will never be a meanie.”

     Norton zoned out. Maybe, just maybe, Pearl ran away. The Baron wouldn’t have known about her anyways. Maybe some random servant came to check on him and Pearl slipped past them and ran away.

     Why? Norton didn’t know. Norton didn’t… want to know. 

     “I see you’re interested in my words,” the little girl continued. “You must know all about being a meanie, huh, Mr. Camp Bell? Because you’re always so grumpy looking and you hang out with all the serious men. All the nice people hang out with Michiko. But I heard you like to throw magnets at her butterflies. Why don’t you just cook them?”

     Norton did not hear a word.

    “But anyway, Orpheus told me everyone is a meanie for a reason. I think pickaxes are from the mines, right? Are all miners really mean and serious like you, Mr. Campbell? Or are they just hurt and broken because their gem eating overlords won’t give them a meal?”

    “Meal… what?” Norton snapped back to reality. And then he shifted, backed into a corner, and looked down at the little —monster— girl in front of him. “What did you just say to me?”

     “Oppression.”

     “What is wrong with you…?”

     “What are you two still doing here?” Suddenly, Mary swung the door open, revealing her stern expression and yet another one of her fine silk dresses. “Orpheus and Luchino began serving breakfast ten minutes ago! Everyone is worried! And have either of you two seen Eli?!”

     And so Norton went off, dejectedly, to breakfast. With the little girl sitting on his shoulders, ruffling his hair similarly to how one would a pet. 

     When he arrived, everyone else was already seated at the table. 

     A few survivors and hunters offered him friendly hellos and waves. But just about everybody could tell the Prospector was a little more of a wet rag than usual (if his even more eccentric than usual behavior wasn’t a clear indicator already.) 

     He took a seat next to Eurydice of all people, because Naib was seated in the middle of rescuers Andrew and Richard, who were bickering about something. Eli came in shortly after Norton did and was forced to sit where most of the hunters sat. 

      Why was everything so off today? No Pearl, a little girl in her place, and now Norton couldn’t even scream at his friends for not watching over Pearl properly.

     Naib opened his mouth as if he wanted to speak to Norton, but the Prospector had already looked away.

      To make things even more embarrassing, when Norton  turned he saw Eurydice’s eyes boring straight at him. He flinched and lowered the brim of his mining hat.

     “What’re you staring at me like that for, lady?” Norton grumbled. Where was Pearl? Did this rich lady take her? Norton glared at her.

     “Huh,” was all she said. Nearby, Naib tilted his head as he watched them intently.

     “What? If you got something you wanna say then spit it out,” Norton retorted. He wasn’t about to dare mention Pearl again, but he wasn’t about to spare Eurydice from his wrath either.

     “…Easy there, Mr. Campbell,” Eury mumbled under her breath before shooting a confused glance towards Naib, who shrugged. Her eyes softened and she tried to appear gentle. “Is this about your pearl?”

      “As if somebody like you would even care,” Norton folded his arms and turned away.

     But after Norton turned away, Naib stood up, pushed his chair in, and headed towards Norton, accompanied by a frowning Eli.

     “I didn’t know he was such a great actor,” Naib whispered to Eli.

     “Yeah…” there was something off about Eli’s voice. 

     “Anyways, you know the deal. I’ve commanded Pearl to spring out from under the table after I do a secret action. I know he knows about the plan, but this surprise will make him seem more genuine.”

     “I didn’t know you had a flair for the dramatic,” Eli chuckled as they reached Norton, ignoring the strange anxiety that chomped through his stomach. Norton WAS just a really good actor, right…? Eli DID tell him to act, right?

     Eli DID visit Norton this morning to tell him about their very important plan and didn’t just cause Norton to spiral into a panic, right?!

     Why did he have to go play in the garden with the animals for two hours before going to sleep?!

     “Naib—“ Norton began.

     “Norton… we know your little secret,” Naib suddenly slammed his hand onto  the table next to the man, causing the room to go silent (and Norton’s soup to spill). 

      Naib looked up at the others seated at the table. He quickly adjusted the bowl of Norton’s soup. Then he looked down at Norton again. 

     He thundered, “We know all about that so-called kid of yours!”

    Someone gasped. Joseph scrambled for his camera. Eurydice cringed as Norton slowly inched his chair away from Naib.

     “What are you doing—?!” Norton hissed at him, but alas, he was interrupted.

     “We know about your little PEARL!!!” Naib bellowed, and then abruptly squatted and made kissy noises under the dining table.

     Norton screamed when he saw something move from beneath the darkness. His life —one of sorrow, starvation, dust, coals, some gems, and then more coals— suddenly flashed before his eyes as he witnessed one (1!!!) white-furred, wide-eyed kitten leap up from under the table and fly towards his face.

     “It’s on me!!!” he cried right before the sounds —oh, pure gold, those horrible, horrible sounds!— of camera shutters behind and in front of him, of gleeful squealing of children (and of the gossips), and of shouts of surprise filled the dining room, threatening  to burst Norton’s eardrums. 

     “That’s it!” Ithaqua pointed and roared at the man. Or rather, at his kitten, who was repeatedly touching Norton’s face. The attention split to Ithaqua. “See, Galatea Claude, I am no liar! That was the—“

     “The cutest kitten ever!” Demi sprang up to go meet the little gal.

     “Ladies and gentlemen… this is the fated child of Norton middle name Campbell!” Naib announced, his voice echoing across the room. Norton was in such a state of shock he could barely understand anything but his name as Pearl began to settle down (and by settling down, we mean lick his face and stroke it).

     “That’s the baby?!” Mary and Kurt exclaimed, both equally disappointed amid cries of, “There was no wife after all!”

     “Ah, agh, ow, stop pulling at my face you gigglemug,” Norton grumbled, taking hold of the kitten by supporting her hip and chest. And then he held her to his face and stared at her.

     Glared at her. 

     Look at all the anxiety you’ve caused me, you idiot, he wanted to tell her, with blurry vision. Look at how everyone’s laughing at us because you decided it would be a genius idea to run away.

     But those thoughts lasted no longer than a second— the next thing Norton did was pull the thing to chest and begin to cry.

     Silently, of course. But he tilted his hat down and held the little kitten in his arms as stupid fat tears streamed down his face. 

     “Let him be,” once the noise started to die down he heard Naib talk to the curious residents. “Let him be, everyone! Just a man reuniting with his beautiful little kitten.”

     Eli chimed in. “Joseph, put that camera away! Oh?”    

     Norton noticed the man lowered his voice and walked behind Norton, whispering something addressing Eurydice. “You just keep going.”

     Pearl pawed at Norton’s face again. The man groaned and moved her paw away, but smiled at her. “What’s wrong with you, huh? Something on my face?”

     “Did he say something?” someone nearby loudly whispered across the table.

     “Let him be, let him be,” Naib folded his arms. Norton continued to obscure his face with his hat. 

     “I didn’t know Ann let people adopt her cats! I want one!!!”

     “All this fuss about some random animal? Come on, everyone’s got some kind of pet by now.”

     “Is it just me or is he more attractive now that he’s hugging such a tiny little creature—?” someone remarked.

     The room fell silent once more.

     “…Okay, that’s enough for now,” Eli put a hand on Norton’s shoulder. “Let’s get you to your room, Norton.”

     “My…. soup…” was all Norton could muster, amid a tiny sniffle slipping through his words. He gently pressed Pearl to his cheek as his newfound entourage (Eli, Naib) escorted him to his room.

     Eurydice followed behind carrying the soup. 

Chapter Text

     “Norton Campbell, you must promise that every single word you speak after each and every one of my questions is first and foremost honest, then correct, then genuine. I do not care how you feel when speaking your words— you can scream at me, you can threaten me all you want. But I demand of you the truth and nothing else but.”

     “Say all that to me again, but in English.”

     “Be honest when I ask you something. Goodness gracious, you are an incredibly stupid man.”

     “I don’t remember asking.”

     The Baron stood behind Norton now, much more menacing than usual. In place of the couch was a strange, metal chair. 

     It was disgustingly cold. 

     “Where’s the couch?” Norton demanded for the sixth time this session. It was the afternoon after the kitten-reveal during breakfast. The Baron had had a disgustingly small amount of time to try and figure out what kind of punishment Norton was to suffer because of his violation. Which meant less time to play with Norton’s very adorable kitten. 

     He was very, very upset because of that. 

     “…I removed the couch, because this is an interrogation, Mr. Campbell.”

     “What am I being interrogated about, huh? I just wanted to eat my soup and all of a sudden everyone started screaming at me!” Norton slurred, because of course every single Baron meeting involved a little bit of drinking (in order to keep the man from any sudden moves). (Also, the Baron found it really amusing to see him so pathetic.)

     (Also, drinks— or rather, the substances in them—- tended to make everyone just a little bit more honest. And a little more… pliable.)

     “Hush now, Prospector,” Orpheus mimicked Eli’s way of talking to the man, placing his gloved hands on Norton’s shoulders. 

     Norton flinched. 

     “Can you tell me more about your daughter? Specifically how you got her?” the Baron calmly asked.

     “What…? Um, well…” Norton, in his clouded mind, tried to decide whether or not it was a good time to lie, say a half-truth, or—

     “Your cat, I mean.”

     “H-How the gold do you know about that already—?!” Suddenly the Prospector perked up from his slumped position, whirling his head around as much as he could. “You better not do anything to her while I’m here, you smoky quartz—!”

     “Aww. Now answer me.”

     “What… no! I’m… I need to get out of here, dungface—!”

     “Language.” The Baron moved to his side, his posture rigid as light bounced off of something in hand. 

     “Shut up! What have you done to Pearl!”

     “Nothing, nothing… stay seated, please.”

     “I…” 

     The man went quiet as the Baron stepped in front of the chair with something in his hand.

     Something awfully pointy.

     “There we go…” the Baron mumbled under his breath. “I never thought a mere syringe could be so effective.”

     The Baron continued hovering over the Prospector’s pained face. “Okay, chop-chop. How did you get Pearl?”

     “…Ann… gave her to me?” Norton answered.

     “Wrong,” Orpheus guessed, filling the syringe with some strange substance. Nothing like trying new things with old tools! Or old substances! 

     “But… but that’s what—!”

     “Wrong,” Orpheus repeated. Norton was extremely easy to read— at least like this “Tell the truth, please. Or else…”

     Norton gulped. The Baron stared intently at Norton’s face.

     “F-Fine! IgotPearloutsidetheManor…”

      “Say that again, please? In English.”

     “Pearl… from outside the Manor.”

     “Why were you outside the Manor, hmmmm?” Orpheus crooned, leaning closer. Norton’s eyes widened as the syringe got closer too. 

     Norton cringed. “Because… I… wanted to get away from everyone.”

     “You’re hesitating. You’re an awful liar, Norton.”

     “I am not lying!”

     “In my book, not telling the truth is lying.”

     “…I was mad at Orpheus and wanted to get out of here because… because YOU SUCK at keeping your promises, you—!” he squirmed in the chair. 

     “Okay. I see. Did you go out the front door or the back?”

     “What in the fool’s gold…? Why would I tell you that—“

     “Which. Door. Norton?”

     “…The front door!”

     “Okay. Good, good,” the Baron hummed, stroking the syringe. “Can you please tell me if anyone helped you take care of Pearl? No offense, but I find you to be rather dense with anything living.”

     “You offended me. And no, I took care of Pearl myself,” Norton lied, spite glimmering in his eyes.

     “You? Without the knowledge of animal expert Eli Clark? Or the protection of such a menacing mercenary man like Naib Subedar?”

     “Why’re you saying their names like that? ‘Menacing mercenary ma—‘”

     “Was Eurydice involved as well? Was anyone else?”

     “I… I never said anything about any of those people! Where are you getting these things from?!”

     “The sway I hold over the Manor is immense, Norton. You would do well to confess to anything now lest I draw this investigation on… and on…  and—“

     “Ugh! Why are you so weird?! Stop talking like that, you prick!”

     “Then answer me.”

     “…Naib and Eli.”

     “And Eurydice?”

     “No? Why do you keep bringing her up?”

     “According to one of my servants, she brought you soup. And the other two let her.”

     Norton cursed the Baron’s servants under his breath before answering. “Oh, so a good  act of charity means we’re all buddy-buddy now, huh?”

     “Considering how the other two let her into your very own room, I have my suspicions.”

     “Oh, please. I never told that lady anything. She’s probably just nice like that to everybody.”

     Orpheus analyzed Norton’s expressions. This time, he seemed genuine. 

     The Baron supposed he’d have to leave the accomplice situation at that.

     “Final question… do you remember the consequences for leaving the Manor?”

     “Um… no.”

     The Baron flashed him a particularly evil grin. Of course no one. Who would think of disobeying such a rule aside from Mister Norton Campbell himself?

     And then the Baron chuckled.

     And then he began pacing. 

     Pacing around the chair. Very, very slowly.

     “You sure are a bit of a troublemaker, aren’t you, Mr. Campbell?” 

     He kept his eyes on the Prospector the whole time.

     “…Yeah.” The man answered, shrinking into his chair like a kicked pet. A kicked kitten, if one would.

     “I’ve already done as much as I could with you. More visits. More doses. Which all meant more of your obnoxious rants— but at least I know more about your life’s story. But now you’ve really gone and done it, haven’t you?” Orpheus hissed in the man’s ear.

     “… Stop that,” but the Prospector was visibly pale and starting to sweat a bit. 

     “And who, pray tell, is going to make me? I’m sure you’ve heard much worse before, Mr. Campbell: the screeching of a minecart against rails. The clash of a pickaxe against cold, hard stone. The boom of explosions— or rather, one in particular. The screams of the dead… I could go on and on and on, Mr. Campbell—“

     Knock, knock, knock.

     “Oh, you’re kidding me,” the Baron rolled his eyes, threw up his arms, and made way for the door… hiding the syringe behind his back, of course. 

    Norton, on the other hand, remained frozen in the chair wiping his face with the back of his hand.

     Why was that Baron so utterly horrifying?

     Why the hell was Norton letting him be so utterly horrifying anyway? 

     Why… couldn’t he resist? 

     “Oh, Eurydice! It’s just you.” The Baron’s tone was now much more jovial. 

     “Hi, yes, Mr. Baron. My sincerest apologies if I interrupted anything.”

     “…You know I’m in a meeting right now, yes?”

     “Oh, my apologies again. But, uh, I’d like to let you know that there’s a bit of a… chaotic situation going on downstairs right now.”

     “Pray tell?”

     “Well, ever since the discovery of Norton’s kitten, everyone’s been making a huge fuss about it. But Ithaqua is thoroughly upset and is plotting with Joseph to ‘expose it for its misdeeds’. Meanwhile, just about everyone is begging for you to make Pearl an official Manor-approved pet, so she can officially start hanging out with Ann’s cats and the like. So you see…”

     “I understand.”

     A beat.

     “Why don’t you settle it yourself?” the Baron concluded.

     “I… don’t have the authority to approve anything.”

     “Oh, please. You’re my rep right now. Just go out there and please the people while I have my chat with Norton,” the Baron flashed her a bright smile.

      “…If that’s what you want,” Eurydice hesitantly backed away from the doorframe.

     Orpheus promptly shut it in her face. 

     Eurydice pretended to go back downstairs. She made sure her footsteps were loud, audible.

     What wasn’t audible were footsteps coming back up until she was at the door once more, pressing her ear against the door just as she had been for the past few minutes. 

     All of it was rather hard to make out from then on. But eventually Eurydice caught onto something.

     Something very curious. Very interesting. 

     From the Baron.

     “Stop squirming, would you? It’s just a little shot, after all!” 

                                            ~

     “‘S he drunk?”

     “Norton… Wakey-wakey!”

     “Look at the way the cat lays next to him! How adorable! Unlike him.”

     “Are you sure this was the right idea, Naib?” Eurydice whispered, gesturing to the sea of residents in the makeshift medbay of the Manor. Eli made for excellent security at the doorway— or rather, Brooke Rose did, because of her lovely talons.

     Meanwhile, Norton was fast asleep on the bed, with Pearl occasionally poking his face with her nose. Demi swished another bottle of Dovlin next to him. Emily the Doctor monitored the man’s breathing. The little girl who had bothered him earlier stood next to them, her hands interlocked with the “Axe Boy” Robbie. 

     “Eh. Doesn’t matter. Norton’s asleep anyway,” was Naib’s answer.

      “Hey, Naib, you never answered my question,” Demi looked up from Norton’s cat to Naib’s face. “Is he drunk or what?”

     “…Bourbon, he is not drunk. Lamb simply just brought him here, where he passed out seconds later.”

     “Brought him from the Baron—?”

     “Yes,” Eurydice nodded. 

     “Huh. I’ve never seen anyone like that after a Baron meeting.”

     “Perhaps it's the exhaustion of so many people pestering him because of the cat,” Orpheus sighed behind Demi, adjusting his monocle.

     “Wait… so, Naib, he got this little sweetheart from outside the Manor, right?” Demi inquired.

    “Yes,” Naib nodded. While Norton was in the meeting (and while Eurydice was eavesdropping to said meeting), Naib took control of Ithaqua and Joseph’s uprising to ban the cat (although one could tell Joseph was just in it for the drama) by explaining how everything had happened to the people there. 

     Everything. From how Naib first learned about the cat, to Norton’s explanations, to the trio’s first plans to protect Pearl, and so on and so forth. (Of course, the merc omitted that one time he sang a lullaby to Norton. So not everything, after all.)

     It made everyone present extremely satisfied. By the time the conference of sorts was over, Joseph revealed he had taken photos and notes of the whole thing so he could publish it in Oletus Manor Daily in Eury’s stead, for all the residents who were scared away when Ithaqua began hissing at everyone at lunch.

     “Oh my gosh,” Demi frowned. “Isn’t there a punishment for that or something?”

     “Probably why he went to see the Baron,” Orpheus coughed, now beside the woman.

     “Oh! Uh, hey there Orpheus…” Demi side-eyed the novelist. “Do you… remember what the punishment was?”

     “Ah, I’m afraid not. But Norton should be fine. I think.”

     “Of course you only think so. Tch.”

     Demi folded her arms and, with a concerned look, glanced back at Norton.

     Pearl routinely got up, curled herself next to Norton’s face, and then licked it. She repeated this several times and would occasionally paw at his face to no avail.

     “Mr. Aesop…” the little girl tugged the Embalmer of the Manor’s arm. “Is… is Mr. Camp Bell dead?”

     “Probably not,” Aesop gently moved her hand away. The little girl turned to Robbie, flabbergasted, motioning for him to do something. 

     “Ms. Emily, is Norton Camp Bell under a sleeping spell?” Robbie tugged on Emily’s arm.

     Emily almost flinched at the tiny child’s tug. But then she turned to him, and with a smile on her face, answered. “I doubt it, Robbie. Don’t worry. Perhaps he just has a fever…”

     “A fever after meeting with the Baron? Can they even come so quickly?” Demi questioned.

     “Yes,” Emily nodded. “And imagine how stressful it must have been for Mr. Campbell these past few days, what with everyone making up lies about him and whatnot… oh, poor soul, that can’t be good for anyone’s health.”

     “Aw,” Demi frowned again. She studied the sorrowful expression on Emily’s face as the doctor did the Sign of the Cross over herself. Demi thought the poor lady was going to work herself to death taking care of all these folks…

     Demi looked at Norton's body again. And then to Emily. Her eyes softened. The Barmaid knew she would drive herself nuts if she was ever looking after people as much as Emily did. 

     So, she raised her glass after tapping Emily on the shoulder and asked, “You wanna drink to his good health?”

     “…No, thank you.”

     “Suit yourself then,” Demi smiled weakly at her. And, like the Doctor, said a quick prayer that Norton might get better.

     Naib and Eurydice looked at each other, at the crowd, at the cat, and then at the sleeping man.

     “He’d better wake up soon,” Eury muttered. Naib nodded and sighed, keeping his eyes on Norton and his now distressed kitten.

     Just what had happened with the Baron…?

                                                                       ~

     Nightmares often came in many forms.

     To start off comically, Orpheus’ hunter ‘persona’ of sorts was nicknamed ‘Nightmare’ because Orpheus did either fabulously or horrendously in a match and there was no in between. Either way, someone was suffering.

     And suffering… was a common thing in nightmares themselves.

     Each resident in the Manor had their own unique sort of them. Even the most innocent of souls: and they often had nightmares about being neglected (again), being abandoned (again), or simply just losing their toys (…again).

     But when one became older, cares, anxieties, nightmares often shifted to even darker things. 

     Naib, for instance, had trouble sleeping at night and often woke up earlier than most because of something slight interrupting his sleep. The sound of someone walking outside, the squawk of a bird from his window, the creak of a bed: somehow, in his mind, it all transformed into a signal for danger. 

     Sometimes it was difficult for Eli to differentiate between a vision and a nightmare. Were the varying images of Gertrude’s corpse a prophecy or a mere taunt from the devil? And what of the thoughts in which Oletus burned down? Or flooded? Or… or… 

     As for Norton himself, the Baron had retold his nightmares in essence—out of spite, Norton was sure— when he began listing off noises, sensations, sights, and all the evils in the mines. 

     And, of course, the one evil Norton had caused in particular. 

     It—the nightmare, the presence of that evil— went away for quite a while since Pearl had arrived. Those nights were full of rest. Somehow. Perhaps God saw Norton playing with a kitten and had mercy on him because he was doing something nice in his life. 

     But for some reason, Pearl had left him on that fateful day. 

     And, stupidly enough, after she left (and even though she was back now), the nightmares returned.

     After the meeting with the Baron, Norton had stumbled out with the door shut behind him and a paper with directions on it as usual. His memory felt wiped and he only had one desire: to see Pearl.

    Why, with such intensity? Norton wasn’t sure. He knew the whole Manor knew about Pearl now thanks to her shenanigans, but he also knew she was safe.

     Or that she was supposed to be.

     But when he had begun heading down the stairs (with Eurydice carefully watching him), he fell into a swoon:

     “Ah! Norton! Are you alright?!” she had quickly caught him and made him rest on her arm. The man wrinkled his nose at her but said nothing else.

     She had studied him for a brief moment— and then her eyes widened at how horrible he looked.

     He was several shades paler than he had been searching for Pearl, which said too much. His eyes were unfocused and without her support the man could barely stand up without swaying.

     Needless to say, she had immediately taken him to the Manor’s makeshift medbay.

     It was all Norton remembered before being thrust into one hell of an abyss— because the moment he was put onto the medical bed, he had blacked out.

     And when he “woke up” again, he found himself in the same blasted cave he blasted all that time ago.

    He could barely breathe. Both because of his black lung but also because it was that horrible, horrible cave.

     Why was he here again? Here, in the depths of this void of a cave? And yet he knew just the reason why. And a few other ‘why’s’ as well: why he had done it. Why, after all this time, he still ruminated about it every second his mind had a free thought. 

     He distanced himself as much as could from that incident: he switched jobs, he switched where he lived… but mentally, he was still there.

     He never left, did he? 

     Perhaps he was punishing himself. Perhaps it was God punishing him. Either way, it worked.

     He was tortured. 

     In the cave, he tried to move. But how could he?

     It was dark. And unlike how it was the day of the blast, he had nothing with him.

     It was always the same with this nightmare. The first few times he had it, he desperately searched for something, anything. His pickaxe, his lamp. 

     Only to be met with nothing— nothing except rock. Rock, rock, and more rock, locking him in until there was nothing he could do when the surface began to tremble.

     The next few times, he remembered, he tried to find the way out. He was good with directions— he knew any cave like the back of his hand.

     Except with this one. Or rather, this muddled version of it, featured in his nightmares.

     Go to the left, be met with a wall. To the right, a path that led to nothing. Straight ahead, unstable ground. Back, the faces of the dead.

     He begged them to show him the way out. 

     But eventually, wearied out by their garbage noise and the maze the cave had become, he grew resigned. 

     Over time, all he had wanted became the light, in those nightmares. He thought of the warmth of the sun. The way the sunlight filtered through the windows of what he previously called a home. Or the way it peeked through the hospice center.

     But no matter how hard he thought of it, all his hope was swept up by darkness.

      In the end, the only thing comparable to sunlight was the same flash every time. 

     This time, the ending was no different: the world, as it always did, caved in. 

     And yet, something made it just a bit more like hell than usual. 

                                           ~

     When Norton woke up, the corners of his vision were dim. He could barely sit up without getting a headache. 

     Voices seemed to attack him from every side. They were clear for a moment— and then they all mashed with one another and became nothing coherent.

     Eventually, someone touched him. He felt it. Someone was helping him sit up. But even though he wanted to smack their hand away, he couldn’t. The darkness from that hellish cave seemed to seep into reality. 

     He couldn’t tell where he was.

     He couldn’t move. 

     His vision became more unfocused. Something crawled onto his stomach. It was white. Would this be in a cave? Probably not. 

     It was kind of cute, though.

     The man’s head hit the pillow once more.

     (Swoon.)

                                            ~

      “He’s been fading in and out of consciousness, Mr. Subedar.”

     It was late midday now. 

     “No need for formalities, Dyer… aside from that, has anything improved?”

     “Yes… he’s been cooperative with medicine. He’s less pale now, as you can see. He trembles less. He moves more.”

     “Hm… has he been able to stand?”

     “Not that I know of. But occasionally he’ll stroke Pearl’s back. Or pull at her tail. However, sometimes he’ll wake up and stare at me as if I’m a demon or whatnot. Sometimes he looks like he’s about to… attack me. But he faints right after. It's very strange.”

     “Terrible,” a third voice from behind the duo mumbled.

     “Clark. What are you doing here? I told you to stop worrying about him. Why aren’t you with the children? Did Michiko send you? I know she must be anxious. But Eli, why didn’t you stay with the children—?”

     Eli rolled his eyes. “Naib, I’m not their babysitter. And you’re just as worried as I am—“

     Norton gasped.

     Naib slammed a hand over Eli’s mouth. “Shut it, Clark.”

     “I—“ Eli began.

     “Hush!” Emily leaned closer and watched the Prospector intently. 

     The man rolled over and faced away from the trio, towards the window.

     A second passed. The trio watched with intrigue. But then, after a few more moments, nothing else of interest occurred, aside from the rise and fall of the man’s chest. 

     It was steadier than it had been earlier. 

     Emily sighed. Naib raked a hand through his wig. Eli muttered an invocation to God under his breath. Brooke Rose shook her head.

     Once again, Pearl nudged Norton’s face with her nose. She meowed quietly and tried to nuzzle his face. Norton groaned in response.

     “This must have been caused by the Baron,” Naib grumbled under his breath. 

     “The punishment,” Emily looked down to the floor and sighed again. “For leaving the Manor, I assume?”

     Eli and Naib looked at each other with sorrow.

     Their plan… What if it had never happened? What if they had just waited a bit longer, bided their time better, hid the secret until they all left Oletus? Then nobody would have ever learned about Norton’s transgression…

     “There’s no point in thinking of the past,” Eli warned, whispering to Naib. He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Especially when you can’t say anything else would have ended any better.”

     Naib brushed Eli’s hand off and simply nodded.

                                          ~

     And if their guilt was that great, how greater was Eurydice’s? 

     So many times she had been the target of unwanted poking and prodding and shots and incisions and surgeries— in an old life. That was what her nightmares were like, if she had any.

     She tried not to visit Norton often. She didn’t want the gossipers making up new rumors. She didn’t want to bother Eli and Naib or even Emily, who had much more of a say over his condition than she ever would.

      But she relented when it was night. Almost midnight.

     She figured Eli and Naib would be asleep by now, or at least in their rooms. Of course, there would always be a few stragglers lingering around (tonight was no exception), but usually they were too tired to question or pry into why anyone else was awake.

     So, she made for the medbay.

     She quietly opened the door. A few steps in, she noticed the moonlight hitting Emily’s face.

     The Doctor was fast asleep. 

     Eury silenced her footsteps as she made her way closer to the bed Emily sat beside. She moved past the Doctor and perched on the windowsill, resting her chin on a fist as she observed Norton.

     Quiet. Eerily quiet. Much too quiet and not complaining about something or other.

     His cat was asleep, too. The thing that got him into this mess.

     Eury sighed. 

     She continued watching.

     Norton’s breathing would occasionally go ragged. Then stabilize. Then destabilize minutes later.

     It all reminded Eurydice a little too much of past memories. But she continued watching anyway.

     And if she wasn’t observing Norton, she was observing other parts of the room.

     She noticed that there was a bottle of Dovlin on the nightstand next to Norton’s temporary(?) bed. There was a small plush presumably from Annie Lester. Next to that plush were two more plushes, even more miniature (with the charm of being sloppily made). She assumed those were from the kids.

     Some more gifts were strewn about, on the floor to the side of the bed. Gemstones, jewelry, crafts…

     It was almost shocking. 

     Of course, nobody had seen such a terrible sickness overshadow anyone in Oletus since… ever. Oletus had its rules and most of the time, people obeyed them. And if they didn’t, they didn’t get caught.

     And they weren’t massive violations, either. Those little acts of disobedience looked like sneaking things into people’s rooms at midnight (Galatea with statues), filling the daycare with ‘unauthorized animals’ (Robbie and the little girl kidnapping Luchino and Melly’s specimens to present them to Michiko during playtime), or deliberately insulting people with monocles (which wasn’t even a rule— Orpheus just insisted it was).

     But this. This violation, this sickness, this punishment was… unheard of before in Oletus. It had no precedent.

     Which made Eurydice feel  disgusted. With herself. With the Baron. With the slow progress of her investigation. 

     Because what if she intervened? But she was powerless against the Baron, who could somehow send a man into such a horrible state. But if she had intervened, would Norton be suffering like this now?

     A part of her wished she did. If she had just faced the Baron as she did with anything else, perhaps things would have been different.

     She refused to believe the chance of an ending even worse.

                                            ~

     Darkness. Darkness still went Norton woke up, aside from the tiniest sliver of light from the moon. And it didn’t even hit him.

     It hit the thing next to him. A cat.

     Huh.

     So that was the thing that kept touching him and waking him up from his nightmares.

     His vision was still dark at the corners and his head still pounded tremendously, but at least he kind of knew what was going on.

     Thank God. He wasn’t in a cave, at least.

     He looked at the creature and, as if on instinct, gently picked it up and cradled it in his arms.

     It was asleep. 

     For a moment, Norton was at peace.

     …

     And then he heard a snore.

     The man jolted and held the cat closer to his chest.

     He looked to his left— a body! But it was dead silent. 

     And then realized: ‘it’ was a woman. 

     At least. He thought it was one. 

     But his brain, for the life of him, could not fully comprehend what he was seeing. The shape of the woman, person, creature shifted every few moments he stared at it.

     ‘She’ started to become a strange, inky blob. A shadowy figure. 

     Norton heard his heart beating— every beat slightly quicker than the last. His breathing had become slightly more rushed as well. 

     He gulped and slowly averted his eyes away from the strange creature and back to the cat he was cradling.

     Norton gently stroked its head. And as he did, he wondered what was going on with him.

     While all of that occurred, Eurydice watched with narrowed eyes. She stayed as still as a human possibly could, hoping the man would not turn his gaze to her and maybe fall asleep again or something. 

    Alas, a few seconds later, he did the former.

     As if possessed, his head suddenly snapped up to her, poised on the windowsill. Their eyes locked.

     He flinched again. 

     Eurydice partially expected him to do what he had done earlier and go back to petting Pearl. She figured he was just a little disoriented and would calm down soon—

     The Prospector got up out of bed, as if he hadn’t just been swooning the whole day. With Pearl still supported in the crook of his arm, he headed for the windowsill.

     Eurydice continued observing. 

     He staggered forward. 

     Apparently whatever the Baron had administered to him still circulated through his body, the journalist noted. She felt herself stiffen as he continued walking forward.

     Norton continued staring at her, as if she were a threat. 

     She remained silent lest she startle him with her voice, remaining as still as a statue. But it was starting to get awfully uncomfortable for her. 

     She wasn’t too fond of being stared at. 

     And his kind of gaze was more than a simple stare. Perhaps Eurydice was overthinking due to a lack of sleep, but she felt like he was appraising her. 

     To think! Norton Campbell, in his soup-stained work clothes (or a carbon copy of them— legend had it his closet was full of copies of those rags), a cat in his arms, mentally and physically unstable, appraising her like a gemstone! 

     Or rather, analyzing her like a threat. 

     Suddenly, he raised a fist.

     Eurydice’s eyes widened.

     (Swoon.)

                                          ~

     Norton couldn’t tell the difference between what he hallucinated and what he had dreamed. He thought the strange snoring woman/mining creature with a first aid kid in her lap sleeping near him was fake, until he realized it was real because the cat was there. He thought the dead old man speaking to him afterward, giving him directions to the Golden Cave from Oletus Manor was real… until he remembered that he had blown up the Golden Cave several years ago.

     Either way, his first reaction became to punch anything that seemed remotely off. The weird creature lady near the bed? She was okay, sometimes. The dead old man? Norton tried to punch him, but when he turned to do it, he was trapped in the cave. He could have sworn he tried to punch other demons too… like the one on the windowsill. 

     But all his attempts failed. And when he inevitably fell back asleep, he was sent back into a spiral of the same set of Golden Cave nightmares until he had woken up.

     And when he woke up, he unfortunately wasn’t alone. 

     There was a rich-looking blonde lady peering over him with an awkwardly bright face. (Was he in heaven? Was this an angel? Impossible.)

     Norton squinted. His eyes moved away from the wide-eyed woman. 

     And then he realized the light wasn’t just on the woman’s face, but on the ground around him. The light was on the cat, who was still with him. And, best of all, the light was on him.

     The light! Surely this wasn’t the cave anymore, was it?!

     Norton immediately sprang up in the bed.

     His head still spun. His vision was still terribly blurry. But there was light! And not just the stupid sliver of moonlight that didn’t bother touching him, but light!

    Norton almost shoved the lady’s face away so he could run to the window, but she held him in place.

     “Norton,” she said to him, her voice stern. Who was she? His mom? His mom wasn’t blonde… or alive, at that. 

     “Wh… What?” Norton tried analyzing her face. He looked into her eyes, at her forehead, at her nose— but for the life of him, he couldn’t even tell what expression she was making. It took a lot out of him just to understand a single word she was telling him:

     “Norton… me, Eurydice… Baron… something about a…”

     “Slow down,” Norton grumbled as he felt something prod his back. He froze.

     The woman clicked her tongue and let go of the man. He promptly fell back into the bed. The woman, whose name was apparently ‘Eurydice’ (pompous rich name alert!), held the cat and presented it to him.

     “Get your hands off’a it…” Norton grumbled, weakly gesturing for the lady to give it back. If the lady was a lady. Maybe it was a mining spirit pretending to be a rich lady to cop him out of some precious gems… Not a chance it’d get anything out of him here in Oletus. 

     But it would make sense, if she was one. He still couldn’t see clearly, nor understand what she was saying, nor understand why she was holding his cat (was it his? It was his now). His eyes fell to the sheets in front of him. 

     Anyway, naturally, the spirit, the Knocker, was deceiving him—

     “Just what’re you thinking about? And Mr. Campbell, respectfully, never faint on me like that again,” Eurydice hissed, peering into his eyes like some kind of detective. Scary. Scary lady. 

     “Give me the thing,” Norton demanded, his voice low and words barely comprehensible. He extended his hands to the cat and outstretched them like some kind of beggar. 

     “…Okay,” she lowered her arms and released Pearl onto his lap. She licked his face. Norton paid no mind but scratched her head. 

     “Where’s the other Knocker?” Norton blinked, and when he did, one eye closed before the other. His head was tilted. 

     “Knocker…? You must be delirious. Lie back down, you goof,” Eurydice clicked her tongue again, gently pressing on his shoulders to try and get him to oblige. 

     “Stop touchin’ me…” he shifted away from her hands (and remained upright). 

     The woman sighed. At least she hadn’t mentioned anything about bartering for gems. Taking her sweet time, huh? “You’re unbearable like this… just what did the Baron do to you?”

     The Baron—?!

     “Where?!” with a sudden burst of energy, Norton perked up and was now inches away from her face. She cringed. 

     “Not here,” she quietly retorted. “What is wrong with you? How do you go from delirious to this in half a second?”

     “Are you my doctor?” Norton blinked again, disgust in his tone. 

     “Do I look like a… no, I am not your doctor.”

     “Where’s my friends? Uh, —what are their names again?— Eli and Naib?”

     “They’re in matches right now. And so is the Doctor.”

     Matches… Oletus… Baron… oh.

     Slowly, Norton’s mind began to catch up to things. Mentally, at least. Because he did live in Oletus now, didn’t he? And there was something off about that Baron, wasn’t there? And as for matches, the Baron forced them to play games and stuff for money, right? 

     Well, that was all (not) fine and dandy. But who was this woman if not the Doctor? 

     “Are you the nurse, then?” he guessed. 

     “No. I’m the Journalist of Oletus Manor.” Norton saw the utter disappointment in her eyes. Disappointment… he could finally understand something on her face!

     “Who names their kid Eurydice?” he blurted. 

     “…My stepfather?” Eurydice, exasperated, shrugged and rolled her eyes. 

     Norton snorted at her reaction. “Figures.”

     “What’s that supposed to mean—“

     “How do I know you again?”

     “Are you the Journalist here or am I? Pay me a dollar for every question you ask and maybe I’ll answer.”

     “What the… did you take that from me or something?” It sounded awfully Norton-coded, even for Norton.  

     “Yes, I did, Mr. Campbell. Now let’s try this again. I’ll be the one asking the questions—“

     “Just who are you, lady?”

     “The Journalist of Oletus Manor!” she groaned. “Okay, first question: do you remember ANYTHING from your meeting with the Baron yesterday?”

     Norton, slightly threatened by her demeanor, tried to recollect his memory. But the only things he could remember…

     “The earliest thing I can remember is the Golden Cave. The latest thing I remember is you.”

     “And what about this cat?”

     “She’s mine. Somehow. I don’t really remember.”

     Eurydice blinked. She froze. And then, after a few more moments, she buried her face in her hands and let out a very long sigh.

     “Why do you have the morbs now?” Norton raised an eyebrow. “I’m just being honest.”

     “I should have never let that man lay a hand on you…” she muttered. 

     “Who? The Baron?”

     Eurydice moved to the chair and slumped in it. “Yes.”

     She then proceeded to spend the next hour telling of everything that had happened just yesterday. And then the day before that. And then the week before that.

     “You’d think I’m living in some kind of crazy book or something,” Norton remarked, finally speaking once Eurydice had concluded.

     He hated to admit it, but he was kind of fascinated by how eccentric this story was. He, Norton Campbell, adopted a cat, of all things? And also Eli and Naib helped him? And then he searched the Manor like that? Several times he resisted the urge to giggle like some kind of little girl.

     “Does that… help your memories in any way?” Eurydice’s eyes softened. 

     “Not really,” Norton answered bluntly. “But it was funny.”

     Eurydice sighed, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. “Well, I’m glad you got some kind of amusement out of it.”

     Norton nodded. He folded his arms, and recounted some more of the details. The breakfast incident, the soup, and eventually, that meeting that led to all of sudden nightmares…

     Then he met Eurydice’s gaze again. “So I got shot by the Baron, you said?”

     “What?!”

Chapter Text

     “I think it's obvious what happened!”

     Breakfast in Oletus was no casual manner. While it wasn’t as serious as the petty rank system put into place after some certain competitive residents demanded it, it was nothing like a calm, focusedmatch between the survivors and hunters. 

     In fact, it was much worse. 

     “I know just what happened to Norton Campbell!”

     Galatea Claude spoke through a microphone —the one used at Hunter’s Karaoke— provided by Joseph Desaulniers. On her wheelchair-desk was a mini marble statue of the newly Manor-officiated pet, Pearl, who only Norton Campbell was allowed to interact with unless explicitly stated otherwise by the Prospector (circa Oletus Manor Daily: the Baron via Eurydice (via Naib)). 

     Galatea, after seeing all the curious eyes trained on her, leaned closer to the microphone, so that her mouth brushed against it. And then, after a silent beat, she calmly announced:

     “Ithaqua poisoned Norton’s soup yesterday.”

     Several eyes flicked up to Ithaqua, rendering him instantly uncomfortable. His own relative, Brynhildr, shot him a thumbs-up.

     “I’ve been framed!” he retorted as Joseph pushed the microphone to his lips. “Galatea’s out to get me. She always has been, that church bell of a woman—!”

     Galatea’s eye twitched as she retrieved a new piece of marble to start working on. 

     “How would I have poisoned the soup, hm?” Ithaqua, who was wearing his stilts, leaned down so that he was eye level with the woman. “I didn’t make breakfast! But you know who did…?”

     “I did,” Luchino announced with a smile, standing up from his chair. Some nearby survivors applauded the man, who had been forced to make breakfast for five weeks straight due to a lost bet involving Sangria, reptiles, and the chapel. 

     “You poisoned Norton?!” the little girl and Robbie shouted in unison. In just a second they stormed across the table and surrounded him, a child on each side. 

     “What?” Luchino blinked. “You’re jumping to conclusions—“

     “The soup is not freshly prepared,” Galatea once again whispered into the microphone. “It's canned. So I know just how Ithaqua—“

     “Ithaqua, who didn’t do it—!“ Ithaqua interjected as several more residents entered the dining room.

     Including the Doctor. 

     The Doctor, whom everyone applauded as she entered the room, walked in with bloodshot eyes, backwards clothing, and a man on her arm. 

     “Please… please God, please don’t tell me they’re having the soup discourse again,” Emily prayed. Loudly. Suspiciously loud enough for all the residents in the area to hear.

     “They are!” Joseph flashed Emily a bright smile. “A blessed morning to you, dear Doctor.”

     “Nobody poisoned him,” Emily mumbled her breath, dragging one Norton Campbell along into the dining table and practically hurling him into a random seat. Eurydice rushed in behind with a camera, tangled hair and a notepad. Pearl scrambled after the troubled trio.

     “What was that? Who poisoned the soup, dearest dear bonne Emily?” Joseph crooned as Emily stiffly took a seat. He promptly handed her the microphone. 

     “I… Eurydice and I did some investigating early this morning,” Emily leaned in her chair and closed her eyes. The residents watched with rapt attention while Eurydice tried to keep Norton awake. Emily continued. “We have good reason to believe this —this sickness— is the Baron’s punishment for Norton leaving the Manor unauthorized.”

     “What?!” Galatea and Ithaqua gasped in unison. And then they looked at each other, and then promptly looked away. 

     A few seconds after that, Manor fell into chaos.

     Emily slumped further into her chair and did the Sign of the Cross very, very mournfully. Then, almost hesitantly, she tapped the microphone to gather everyone’s attention.

     Voices argued, screamed, and cried over the microphone’s reception.

     “Norton’s really going to die?!”

     “I can’t believe it! He’s going to leave us behind because of this stupid cat!”

     “Kitten,” Eli corrected, just as someone shouted nearby him: 

     “Where’s the Baron?! I’ll have his head!”

     Emily cleared her throat. And when she saw the arguing rage on, she cleared her throat again, into the microphone.

     Slowly, after several aggressive ‘shhs’ and pointing and laughing at whoever was talking (as was the shame custom in Oletus) the chaos dissipated. And like curious little animals, all turned to her and listened. 

    “Now, I do not know how the Baron can cause such things, but don’t worry,” Emily said. “Norton seems to be having a… fever of sorts. He’s a little antsy, so please don’t bother him.”

     “A *little* antsy?” Eurydice mumbled as Norton began snoring in his chair. Pearl was in his lap and lapping up some of his food with her tongue. Eurydice cringed at the sight— it was as unsanitary as it was cute. 

     The people’s eyes shifted to Norton. Emily continued her little spiel about Norton’s fever, and how people were advised to keep a safe distance away from him and Emily herself since it might be contagious. 

     “He is under a sleeping spell!” Robbie cried in utter horror, tugging at the little girl’s arm while Emily spoke.

     “Robbie, we have to fight this Baron. I know how this will end—“ the girl began, a dark expression washing over her face as she reached for her fork.

     “Hush, children… Miss Dyer is speaking,” Michiko chided.

     “Thank you, everyone, for your cooperation during these… difficult times,” Emily dipped her head. “Again, it is highly advised that nobody visits the medbay while I’m out in matches. If you have any questions, concerns, or boo-boos… please use a first aid kit.”

     “And what if a certain somebody,” Vera began, eyeing Naib with narrow eyes. She recalled with distaste all the times she was forced to heal the man. The smell and gory sights were disgusting. “Gets a little more than a ‘boo-boo’, Ms. Dyer?”

     Naib rolled his eyes and shifted his gaze across the table. He noticed Norton slowly opening his eyes.

     “Visit — and only do it if one has serious injuries— as long as I’m present, and if I’m not…” Emily frowned, trying to think of an alternative. But then she gave up and shrugged and sighed. “Get a priest.”

     “I’m not doing last rites,” Alva deadpanned a few seats away. “Nobody is dying in this Manor.“

     “You’re not even a priest,” Andrew mumbled beside him. 

    “If you’re injured and Ms. Dyer is busy, I will take care of you,” Eurydice stood up, facing the crowd. “I have a bit of medical expertise myself, so to speak. So please, come to me.”

     “No need to burden yourself, Eurydice,” Michiko straightened in her chair and looked to the others. “You all can come to me as well.”

     “Or me,” Eli chirped.

     “Or me,” Fiona smiled. 

     “Your prayers won’t do butter upon bacon, Fiona,” Vera scoffed, rolling her eyes at the Manor’s Priestess. The Perfumer cringed imagining all the strange rituals the Priestess had done to heal her in the past. 

     “Again, no need to trouble yourselves,” Eurydice smiled sheepishly. 

     “Eurydice… the nurse after all,” Norton muttered amid the resident's whispers.

     “I’m not the…” Eurydice began, hissing under her breath. She eyed Norton with a pout and then wiped it from her face when she saw that the residents were still staring at her. “Yes. I will take care of some of you. When Ms. Dyer is away.”

     “Yay!!” the children cheered. Scattered cheers echoed throughout the room after theirs. It was rather embarrassing, but endearing nonetheless.

     “‘M done with my food,” Norton reclined in his chair after the exclamations finished. “I’m going back to medbay, blonde lady…”

     Except, he said it so quietly Eurydice barely heard a word. So by the time she realized Norton was out of his seat, he was already wobbling to the door.

     Her eyes widened as she noticed him place his hand on the doorknob. What had he told her? Was he going back to the medbay—?!

     “Not alone you aren’t!” Eurydice scrambled out of her chair as Norton almost collapsed for the fifth time this morning.

                                           ~

     “Please make a tiny exception for us, Miss Lamb…”

     “Please make a very tiny exception for us, Mrs. Lamb…”

     “She’s not married, dummy.”

     “I didn’t know that! Sorry, sorry, sorry…”

     It wasn’t even noontime and people had already tried to visit Norton. Surprisingly enough, it was the small children.

     “I’m afraid I can’t, you two,” Eurydice shook her head and folded her arms, guarding the doorway while Emily looked after Norton. “Emily will be in a match soon and I have to be responsible and watch over Norton.”

     “But we are also very responsible, Mrs!” Robbie whined. 

     The little girl elbowed him. “You called her ‘Mrs’ again.”

     “Shhhh!!!” Robbie, distressed, put his pointer finger to his mouth. 

     “Why don’t you two head off to play with Naib again?” Eury prompted, gesturing to the hallway.

     “Naib told us how to sp—“ the little girl began.

     “Naib!… is busy!” Robbie nervously exclaimed.

     Eury’s eyes narrowed.

     “Ms. Lamb!” Emily called from across the room. “I believe I have to get going now. Please make sure Norton takes the medicine in an hour for me, okay?”

     “Of course, Ms. Dyer!” Eury replied, giving the kids one final glance before heading over to the doctor.

    The little girl suddenly pushed Robbie out into the hall just as Emily exited. And once the duo watched her hurriedly head down the hallway, she whispered in his ear:

     “We’ll watch from a distance first.”

     “Okay!” Robbie whisper-exclaimed, trusting his friend’s judgement.

     As time passed by, Eurydice forgot the children were still lingering by the doorway, or that the door was even re-opened in the first place.

     She was rather exhausted. She had been driving herself crazy trying to figure out what the Baron had done, all the while watching his victim squirm, pet a cat, have a nightmare, or ask her who she was (although he seemed to remember her name by now, at the very least).

     A shot. Somehow, some way, the Baron had given Norton an… injection of sorts, that did either one of two things.

     It was either focused on destroying his health—which was an interesting approach, knowing how physically strong Norton was; maybe it was to prevent him from leaving— or destroying his sanity, which also would prevent the man from leaving and probably traumatize him for life. Fear was a strong enough restraint; Eurydice figured it was the latter. Did a fever usually come with such prevalent nightmares? Or was it just a side-effect of a biological phenomenon from the shot?

    A shot… how did the Baron have access to such a thing, anyway? He was a Baron, not a scientist. Unless he was also a scientist. How strange— but Eurydice had already seen many strange things in her life, and unfortunately this version of Norton was no exception.

     “Eury… Eurydice…” up to now, the man had been taking a nap. But Eurydice paused when she heard someone —him— faintly mutter her name under his breath. He currently faced away from her, toward the window.

     “…Yes?” she stood up from the chair and quietly stepped over to the windowsill.

     He was sweating. 

     Eurydice’s eyes widened. She looked at the cool cloth on his forehead.

     She ordered her mind to stop theorizing and to start remembering how to wake up a man who was probably having a nightmare.

     “Be gentle,” Emily had told her— this Eury recalled after a few moments of just staring at Norton. 

     What else had she said? “Call out his name, repeat it a few times. Don’t touch him— he might lash out at you— but keep a close eye on him.”

     The man turned over and made some rather disconcerting noises. Pearl stirred and walked over his legs. He didn’t notice.

     Eurydice continued watching. Hopefully the man would just calm down and—

     “Cack!” he shouted. And while Eurydice didn’t quite catch it, the children flinched at the sharpness in his voice.

     “Is… isn’t that a swear word?!” the little girl cried, distressed. “M-Michiko wouldn’t approve of that…”

     “It’s okay,” Robbie gently reassured her. “She also said ‘Hito no furi mite, waga furi naose’.”

     “Right! Thank you, Robbie,” the little girl nodded confidently, not understanding a word he just said. 

     Eurydice cleared her throat. After he turned back to face her, his face scrunched up, she unleashed the gentlest tone she could. “Norton. Norton…”

     He grit his teeth. She repeated his name a few more times.

     But it started to become awkward. 

     Eurydice figured it was working considering the fact that after ten more times of repeating his name, Norton’s body became more relaxed, but it was incredibly uncomfortable for Eurydice. Why couldn’t Naib do this instead? Or Eli? Or someone who at least knew Norton for more than a few days— days spent talking more about his cat than him.

     But she knew complaining did nothing. So she gently cooed and crooned and sang his name until eventually, he woke up.

     Just in time for the medication.

     “Y-You…” Norton, pained, slowly opened his eyes. 

     “Don’t overexert yourself,” Eurydice chided as she saw him struggle to sit up. “It’s time for you to take your medicine, Norton.”

     “How the hell do you know my name, Eurydice…”

     Eurydice, who now had her back turned and was preparing Emily’s concoction, snorted. She promptly turned back and offered it to him on a spoon.

     “Ew, I don’t want that,” Norton immediately scrunched up his face. She rolled her eyes and set the spoon on the medical desk by his bed (where Emily sat) and tried to get him to sit up.

     “Why are you wearing gloves?” Norton wrinkled his nose as he felt the leather of her gloves on his shoulder. 

     “None of your business,” Eurydice replied, moving his pillows so he could comfortably prop himself against the headboard.

     He said nothing else aside from a brief grunt as he looked up at her. 

     His eyes went unfocused.

     “Okay…” Eurydice blinked. “So why don’t you close your eyes and open your mouth so I can give you this medicine?”

     “Do you think Eurydice could treat my paper cut?” the little girl whispered to Robbie as the boy watched Norton nibble on the medicine. There was something strangely fascinating about seeing Norton eat it.

     It wasn’t even Norton that was fascinating. It was the thingy on the spoon, which wasn’t even visible.

     Robbie’s mind wandered. Did it taste like honey? Was it the utterly scrumdiddliumptious syrup Michiko attempted to give to the kids to treat their coughs? Was it very, very delicious?

     “Robbie! Can Eurydice treat my cut or not you think?!” the little girl hissed, gently poking his shoulder. She presented her ‘homemade’ glittery pink notepad from craft time to him, open to a page with her blood on a corner. 

     The same page read ‘SUPER SPYS 4 SOOBEDR - ENTREE ONE:

[in colorful, sticker letters] Michiko’s Fun Word Bank:

bribe, opinion, mercenary, kitten, bright, yesterday, bonus word: 三

(Use full sentences and at least one vocabulary word. - Naib)

• Uredece is helping Norton by watching him sleep.
• She did not let us come in. Can you BRIBE her later when you see this Soobedr.
• We are also watching Norton sleep. He rolled around a lot and sounded like he was crying and having a Nightmare. I think he was really sad because he kept saying cave. But then Uredece helped him by chanting his name. 
• He said a very very bad word when he woke up because he is a Norton.
• I got a paper cut because I was really scared when he said that bad word. I will go to Uredece but I am going to ask Robbie OPINYON OPINION first. 

     “Of course she can help you,” Robbie answered breezily. “But she’s busy feeding Mr. Camp Bell right now. Do you think that the medicine tastes good?”

     “Hm… probably. Look at my cut!”

     “Why don’t you just go to Naib? He’ll fix it for you.”

     “Because I don’t want to miss out on them arguing! It's funny.”

     Robbie raised an eyebrow. And then, in a very Michiko-esque fashion, he clicked his tongue in disapproval, imitating her gentle voice. “Little one, what did I tell you about being a busybody?”

     “I’m not busybodying if I’m trying to spy on people,” the little girl rolled her eyes. “But I’ll go see Naib. Stay right here though, okay? And tell me if they end up fighting. All fights end in hugs.”

     “True,” Robbie affirmed as the little girl scurried off.

     …Unfortunately for Eurydice, Norton was unlikely to give her a hug any time soon. 

     “It tastes like cack! Cack, I say!” Norton had his tongue stuck out. Eurydice repeatedly shook her head at his potty mouth.

     “I didn’t ask for your opinion on the taste, Mr. Campbell! I asked you if you were having nightmares.”

     “You bet the fool’s gold I did! Cursed Golden Cave… I’ll blow it right up again when I get my hands on dream-dynamite! I’ll get you, mercury fulminate… and when I do I’ll—“

     Eurydice blinked. And then, after a few more seconds of watching him cuss out the Golden Cave and rant about Scotland and mining, she exasperatedly sighed. “Blow the cave up… again?”

     Norton’s head snapped back up to face her. “I told you nothing, woman.”

     “No, go on. I’m interested.”

     Norton’s eye twitched. “No, actually. I won’t.”

     Eurydice raised her hands in defeat after she saw how bloodshot his eyes were. “So be it. Do you want to get some rest? Take a walk? Get food?”

     “The last two. I just told you I had nightmares, lady— why would I wanna go back to them? What am I, an idiot?”

     “Okay. Let’s go for a walk first?”

     “Yeah. If I can stand.”

     Robbie watched as Eurydice helped him up. Surprisingly, he was able to stand— albeit only by using her as a crutch. At first his legs shook furiously, but as Eurydice led him to the doorway, he began to stabilize with each step he took.

     Meanwhile, Robbie tip-toed away and pretended to go down the hallway as the duo passed by.

                                                ~

     “Good job, kid. Maybe you and White will become spies one day,” Naib murmured as he gently bandaged the little girl’s thumb. He had seen her field notes minutes earlier. Make silly choices, get silly rewards. At least he knew a bit about how Norton was doing.

     “Thank you, Mr. Soo Bed—“

     “Naib.”

     “Mr. Naib SubeMerc!”

     The Merc said nothing to his latest name within the last five minutes. To distract her from the pain of alcohol, he had attempted to teach her nicknames to call him in Nepali with extremely varying degrees of success. Eventually, they ended up circling back to English. 

     “…All right,” after further inspection of the paper cut, Naib let go of the child’s hand and gestured to the door. “That was step one of this little plan of ours. Now take me to the big bad Prospector himself.”

     “Okay!”

      But alas, the big bad Prospector in question was not there. Robbie was, however, and he was peering into the room as if it held the secrets of the universe.

     “What’re you looking at, White?” Naib hovered behind him, placing his hands on the boy’s shoulders.

     “They went off to the kitchen,” Robbie answered, staring intently at the medicine bottle. And the moment Naib realized he was staring at Norton’s medicine, he quickly took his hand and whisked the children away from such a dangerous place into an… arguably more dangerous one at certain times of day (but hey, at least they had adult supervision).

                                              ~

     “Mr. Subedar, with all due respect, you know I can’t possibly do that.”

     Eurydice eyed the kids the Merc had brought into the room, who were pestering Norton so Naib and Eury could talk with one another. Eury almost couldn’t believe it— to ask such a thing, when the Merc still owed her a truffle cake!

     “Lamb, I’ve known him much longer than you do. The children tell me about how you two get into quarrels.”

     “I’m not concerned about that— he’d probably do the same to you as well, Mr. Subedar,” she gave pause at hearing him reveal his source to be the children of all people. “And you shouldn’t be sending children to spy on me, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

     “Astute, aren’t you? But think about it: Campbell would probably be more comfortable knowing that it's me giving him the medicine. And I know all about dealing with night terrors too.”

     “So do I,” Eury breezily responded. “Plus, you might disorient him further if all of a sudden the ‘annoying blonde lady nurse’ disappears, replaced with a certainly not annoying or blonde or ‘lady nurse’ mercenary.”

     “We’ll ease him out of it.”

     “Ms. Dyer won’t like this.”

     “I’ll take the blame.”

     “You owe me one truffle cake as of right now. Would it possible to make that two?”

     “So you really do accept bribes, huh, Lamb?”

     “Norton, Norton, Norton! Guess what me and Robbie did today aside from watch you!” the little girl bounced around the chair. Norton was dizzy and tired just from watching her spring about.

     “Who… who are you again?” Norton wrinkled his nose and slumped in his chair.

     “I’m a little girl, and this is my dearest dear friend Robbie White!”

     “Who makes their kid ‘little girl’?” Norton’s eyes narrowed as Robbie cleaned the floor a few inches away from the girl.

     “It’s not my real name, silly goose. I just…”

     “You just what?”

     “Can you give me a name?”

     “Do I look like a father to you?
 
     “I don’t jud—“

     “No. Go ask… uh… the lady with the black hair and the… the blasted butterflies.”

     “Michiko,” Robbie muttered under his breath.

     “Michiko,” Norton stiffly corrected himself, the name rolling off his tongue like sandpaper. 

     “But Michiko won’t give me a name because I’m not her child!” the little girl whined, now clinging to Norton’s shoe.

     “Which one of these Manor people brought their golden kid to work…” Norton groaned as the little girl continued pestering him.

     In the meantime, Eurydice and Naib worked out a deal. Amid the cries and shouts and various actions of the children, they did a little tit-for-tat.

     Eurydice gave him a little more information on her own spy mission and told him about the shot to get Naib to cook her spicy momos for ten days straight after breakfast. Naib offered to bake her an extra truffle cake to add if she would do what she loved to do (investigative journalism) with the Baron and let himself and Eli handle Norton— meds and all. It was a Eury-positive deal. 

     “Norton has to take his medicine again in half an hour,” Eury folded her arms. “Before you do anything with him, I’ll need you to watch me first.”

     “You just put the thing on a spoon and feed it to him,” Naib also folded his arms. 

     “While he yells at you and tells you it tastes like feces,” Eury deadpanned.

     “I’ve heard worse,” Naib shrugged.

     “Your friend is a rum cove,” Eurydice clicked her tongue. “And these children you’re babysitting are driving him insane. He might cause a scandal if you let the kids stay with you while you work. Who else will take care of them while Michiko is in matches, hm?”

     “Well, if you don’t find the cure in the Baron’s office, he’ll be permanently insane from whatever kind of sickness this is, Lamb. And I’ll just give the kids to Clark. He wants children anyway.”

     “…Well then.”

     “Come on, Lamb.”

     “I’ll let you see how it's done first. You’ll have to leave by evening— that’s when Dyer should be back from her matches. And make sure you wash your hands.”

     “I’m not a slob, Lamb.”

     “Of course you aren’t. But I’m taking no chances— we still don’t know if this is contagious or not.”

      Naib paused. And then his eyes drifted to the children. Robbie made sure to stay relatively far away, roughly six feet or so. The little girl on the other hand…

     “नानी, stop touching his shoe,” Naib ordered. 

     The little girl froze and quickly dusted her hands off her dress. She looked to Norton, who looked somewhere past her, and then at Robbie, who gestured for her to help him clean up the floor instead. 

     “‘Nani’? Is that her name?” Eury questioned, her voice quiet.

     “No. It's just Nepali,” Naib answered. “Was trying to teach her some earlier so she wouldn’t cry about her paper cut while I was cleaning it.”

     “That’s sweet of you. You really seem to enjoy your job with Michiko—“

     “I don’t like children.”

     The duo continued conversing while Norton, half-awake, watched the little girl and Robbie get straight to work with cleaning up any hidden messes caused by the residents.

     “See you in a while, Mr. Subedar,” Eury nodded. Once this walk was over, she would be one step closer to figuring out what happened to Norton.

                                   ~ 

     “A gift for you, Clark.”

     It was the some time after that discussion now and Eurydice had shown Naib how to administer the medication, how to wake up Norton from his nightmares, and what to do if Pearl wouldn’t get off his body. His ‘shift’ of sorts was to begin soon.

     But first, he had to drop off the kids.

     “Hm?” Eli opened the door. “A gift for me—“

     “Eli! Eli!” Before the man could get another word in, the two children “temporarily” living in Oletus Manor scrambled out from behind the Mercenary and tackled Eli’s legs.

     “Bye!” Naib hurriedly shut the door.

     It was time for the Mercenary to become a medic.

     What with this shift in roles, Eurydice was free to investigate. Immediately after this she made haste to the Baron’s office. It was a particularly busy point for everyone in the day (obviously, the latest drama going around in the Manor on top of Norton’s sickness was very helpful).

    Now, the only trouble was that she couldn’t tell if the Baron was in his office or not.

    She promptly pressed her ear against the door. She heard nothing.

     Maybe the Baron was asleep. Or ignoring her. Or using the toilet. Was there a built-in bathroom in that office? 

     Eurydice clicked her tongue in annoyance and chided herself for such inappropriate thoughts. 

     Eurydice knocked on the door. If the Baron was there she could play off her little visit as a report on Norton’s condition, or on the latest Hunter victory, or on the complaints of a Suvivor. 

     No response.

     How strangely convenient. A smirk formed on her lips. 

     She knocked again, just to be sure. 

     Again, no response.

     She tried opening the door. Locked, as expected.

     Eurydice rolled her eyes and pulled out a hairpin from her pocket. So be it— nothing would stop this journalist.

                                         ~

     “Where’s the blonde lady?” Norton groggily murmured as Naib loomed up over him with his hood on. It was, unfortunately, just as Eurydice had predicted— Norton, evidently in a crabby mood, did not recognize the man thanks to his illness.

     “Ugh… just mine me already. You a Knocker or somethin’? Give me back the woman. I ain’t giving you any gold,” Norton continued, his words slurring together, barely coherent.

     “No, Campbell. I am Naib Subedar,” Naib, who didn’t understand anything except ‘you a’ and ‘mine me’, tried his best to sound gentle. Eurydice said sounding gentle was the key to make sure Norton didn’t lash out any further. 

     “No. Naib is the one with the owl… scary owl…” Norton protested, rolling away from Naib’s face.

     “That would be Eli Clark, Campbell,” Naib rolled Norton back so he could look at him. 

     “Then who is Naib?” Norton, with unfocused eyes, blinked and tried to gaze at Naib.

     “Me.”

     “Bald Knocker… you were in my nightmares.”

     “I’m not bal… It’s time for you to take your medicine, Campbell.”

     “What happened to the blonde lady?”

     “Open your mouth, please.”

     “No…” Norton gasped.  “Don’t  feed me coals, don’t feed me coals…!”

     The medic’s eyes drifted to Pearl as Norton shut his eyes. Naib picked up Pearl and set her on the man’s lap. Then he gestured to her, saying, “Norton, this is your little kitten named Pearl. Pearl wants you to open your mouth.”

     “Eli Clark…”

     “Say ‘ahh’ for Pearl.” 

     “My kitten can’t speak, my kitten can’t speak…”

     “Meow,” Pearl helpfully meowed as Naib brought the spoon closer to Norton’s lips.

     “No, no, no,” Norton shut his eyes as he took a little nib of the medicine. Pearl watched intently as Naib attempted to dig the spoon in further.

     It was very uncomfortable. For all parties involved. 

     “Come on, Campbell. Finish the medicine,” Naib urged as gently as he could. And by gently, he meant he was gritting his teeth trying to pretend Norton was like one of those little kids that loved Michiko. Except those kids weren’t twenty eight year old traumatized miner (prospector!) men who were in dire need of therapeutic help, which made Naib all the more distressed. 

     “It tastes like… like…” Norton whined.

     “Feces. Yes. I heard.”

     “Nooo,” Norton cried, taking Pearl into his arms as he continued slowly but surely consuming the medicine.

     It bothered Naib to see the man so pathetic. “Good job, Campbell.”

     Norton suddenly began rambling. “You know, Eli… this reminds me of the jam the rich people would give me after a hard night back in Scotland…”

     “Oh, good grief,” Naib grumbled under his breath, moving the spoon away as Norton—unusually chatty (horrifyingly, really)— continued to talk about his life:

     “They would visit… or was it the religious…? But they would come and give food to the guys in hospice… and since I played the fool for ‘em I got jam… not that jam helps if you got black lung. Hah! What’s a spot o’ jam gonna do if you’re stuck in the mines with a tiny little tallow candle twelve hours a day! What do they know, what do they know?!”

     All this while Naib cleaned the spoon and washed his hands at the nearby sink across from the bed. Naib couldn’t tell whether or not he wanted more of Norton’s life story or for him to shut up. But that wouldn’t matter in the face of whatever Norton’s state of mind was.

     “Anyway, stupid hospice visits, I meet an old guy. But he’s not important,” behind Naib, Norton was getting more animated. Norton stroked Pearl’s head and kept babbling. To her or to Naib, the Merc couldn’t tell. “One time I met a lady. One of the jam-gifters. Tried to give me some jam and white bread and of course I accepted because what’s a guy to do, eh, Eli? But I saw her gold necklace. Her pearl earrings. Hair just like that nurse. You know where the nurse is? Maybe the Knocker over there ate her or somethin’. That’s rough.”

    Naib sighed and turned back. He flinched upon seeing Norton making his bed.

    What did Eurydice say about Norton making his bed? What did she say about Norton getting up? Why was he getting up!?

     All of a sudden Naib felt very underprepared.

     “Campbell. Let’s get you back to bed,” Naib suggested, subtly rushing over to his side. 

     “No, I gotta go do something, you know? What was it…” a strange expression washed over his face: it was as if he was experiencing a happy hour. Naib had seen the look before on even the most bleak men: wide smile, bulging and bloodshot eyes, flushed face…

     “I thinkIgotta…goexplodesomething, Knocker. I’ll be rightback…withthegems, Ipromise—“

     “Campbell. The bed, please.”

     At this, Norton paused. He tilted his head to the side and the smile fell, revealing his typical grouchy resting face. Although… there was still something off about it.

     “Hey, what’s wrong with your face…?” Norton placed a hand on Naib’s cheek and tried to look him in the eye. But every time he would do so, his gaze would fall to the ground. He swayed a little and could only stand because of his grasp on Naib.

     Norton went quiet. 

     Naib eyed Norton up and down. The Prospector’s face was now solemn. After a few moments, his breath became a little more ragged. He couldn’t keep his eyes focused on anything but the floor. His body trembled and grew tense. What was wrong with him? Was this a side effect of the medicine—?

     A ghastly expression washed over the man’s face. 

     “Get out,” Norton abruptly hissed, slamming his hands onto Naib’s shoulders. And then he formed a fist and winded his arm back.

                                      ~

     “Mr. Eli, where does a Seer work? Do you make a lot of money? If I get hired, will they call me a Seeress?”

     “Mr. Eli, why do you wear a blindfold? Can you make one for me too? I’m think I’m going blind!”

     And on and on and on. While there was something endearing about having these little children pester him and try to pry into his very, very private personal life, there was also a reason Eli didn’t work with the Oletus Manor daycare. 

      Eli had exhausted himself running all over the place trying to stop the little girl from trying to ‘upgrade’ his bed, Robbie from eating the flower crowns the animals had provided, and most of all to stop them both from reading Gertrude’s letters. He hadn’t even had enough time to child-proof the room. 

     He did not need nor want the children to know about his very, very private and personal romance. But at the same time, he knew defeat was imminent when, after Eli had gotten Robbie off the windowsill, he heard the magic words:

     “Mr. Eli, who is Gertrude?”

     Eli inhaled very, very deeply as he turned his head.

     And what a sight there was.

     On the floor, with the little girl picking up after herself, lay dozens of Gertrude’s letters. Even some of the gifts she gave him were strewn about—a telescope, a toy card gun, earmuffs, beautiful rare feathers, to name a few. 

     Robbie dramatically turned his head and gasped at the sight. Eli exhaled beside him. The little girl shrugged. And then she continued picking up the letters and some gifts, as if nothing had happened.

     “…Let’s take a moment to sit down on the floor and have a moment of reflection,” Eli gently directed.

     They obliged. A child was on either side of him as they all say cross-legged on the floor.

     “Everyone, I would really appreciate it if you would stop trying to mess with the items in my room,” Eli kindly told them.

     “Okay. But who is Gertrude?” the little girl repeated. “And why is her name on so many of the papers—“

     “Those are letters,” Eli explained. 

     “From Gertrude?”

     “Yes.”

     “Who is she?”

     “A very special woman.”

     “Why?” Robbie tilted his head.

     “She’s a blessing.”

     “Why?” the little girl pried.

     “Because she’s very kind and sweet.”

     “It’s a riddle,” the little girl immediately whisper-declared to Robbie. Eli could hear them full well as they began to ‘secretly’ discuss in front of him.

     “Why is he giving us a riddle?” Robbie whispered back.

     “Because he’s a seer. And I think all of them are meant to be very mysterious. And… Seer-ious.”

     Eli pretended not to hear that one.

     “Wait, so what’s the riddle?” Robbie asked.

     “He’s trying to make us find out who this Gertrude is to him so that we can unlock the secret treasure,” the little girl nodded, confident that this was Eli’s true intention.        

     “Actually—“ Eli began. 

     “Is the secret treasure worms?” Robbie replied.

     “Robbie, it's secret.”

     “Oh, right. But how are we going to figure out who Gertrude is?”

     “No, no… what Gertrude is. To him. There’s three options: she is his mom. She is his sister. Or… she is his—“

     The little girl gagged. Robbie stiffened.

     Eli watched her closely. “Are you alright—?”

     Robbie shook the girl’s shoulders. “His what? You need to tell me!”

     “His… l-l-l-lo… I can’t say it, Robbie. It’s too grown up.”

      “Then don’t say it! Michiko is going to put you in time out!”

     “No, it’s not a bad word. It’s just… the scary one!”

     “No way… the Valentine's one?”

     The little girl trembled. “Kinda. I think Gertrude could be his… L-O-V-E-R.”

     Robbie froze.

     Eli continued listening, bewildered by how utterly dramatic these children were. “Yes, that’d be—“

     “But… but it can’t be,” Robbie shook in denial, too disbturbed to even hear Eli’s quiet voice. “He’s too seerious. Like Mr. Subedar. And everyone knows the only person Naib loves is his mom—”

     “Well, maybe it’s a cover-up, smarty-pants!” the little girl’s voice was far from a whisper now. She stood up and began pacing like a true detective, the letters flying out of her arms and back onto the floor. “He’s trying to make us think he’s too seerious to think about love— but maybe it has always been on his mind ever since he met her!”

     “Wait… I think that  would explain these gifts!” Robbie deduced, scrambling over to pick up the holy body Gertrude had sent Eli last month. Apparently, she had the item blessed in a cathedral she visited. The same one where they would get married in very, very soon.

     Just thinking about that made Eli blush. Terribly. 

     “Careful with that,” Eli ordered as Robbie presented it to the little girl.

     “A cross…” the little girl put a hand to her chin. “Robbie, do you know what crosses mean?”

     “Um… Aesop Carl!”

     “No! This is a very important piece of evidence. It means love, Robbie!”

     “How do you know that?” Robbie retorted.

     “My source? Andrew Tall Shovel Kreiss!”

     “The scary grave keeper man?! He can’t be trusted, can he?”

     “I asked him! I asked him about the cross he wears and he told me it was a symbol of love and ‘sack-o-rice’.”

     “Sacrifice—?” Eli interrupted. 

     “But… but how?” Robbie questioned. 

     “Don’t ask me how! If you have a problem with my reasoning bring it up to the guy who visits the chapel with the white collar. He’s besties with Andrew.”

     “Why don’t we see him in matches—?”

     “Focus, Robbie!”

     “Okay, okay! So basically, the answer to the riddle is that Gertrude is actually Eli’s… Eli’s…”

     The little girl cleared her throat and put a hand on his shoulder. “Say it with me: l…”

     “L…”

     “O…v…”

     “O… b—“

     “Fiancée,” Eli mumbled. 

     “Bingo! Yes, Robbie, you baby genius! We solved the riddle!” the little girl cried, embracing her friend in a hug.

     “Can I go eat the worms now?” Robbie innocently asked, noticing the outside creatures had entered through the window and were surrounding Eli.

     “No, Robbie,” Eli stroked the head of a bird that perched on his shoulder. Brooke Rose glared at it from his other one. “The worms are your friends. Not your food.”

     “Friends can be food, right?” 

     “…No,” the little girl shook her head ever so slowly. “But I know what the prize is! Heh heh heh…”

     Robbie smiled widely as he slowly retrieved one of Gertrude's letters off the floor. He inspected it in the light, turned it over a few times, and then turned to face Eli. “Is it what I think it is…?”

     The little girl nodded, grabbed Robbie’s hand, and then looked Eli dead in the eye: 

     “The grand prize: tell us everything about this crush of yours, Mr. Eli.”

                                  ~

     What was it like to be the Baron of Oletus Manor?

     Why choose to give people hope in exchange for seemingly nothing? 

     Why choose to place them into these games in order to obtain that hope? Why invite them to live in your Manor while they play those games? Why provide for their every living need within such a lavish Manor? What was there to gain?

     Was the Baron just a benevolent man? What were his motives?

     Such were the questions that swirled in Eurydice’s head as she entered the Baron’s office.

     She made sure to lock the door behind her. And then she stared at the vast expanse of the room— at the top of the staircase within it, where there was set a desk. At the bookcases on the bottom floor. At the couch facing the staircase.

    It all seemed very, very normal. The woman herself was enjoyed the setup— if she had an office like this, then she’d know she struck it rich.

     But still. There had to be somewhere the Baron was storing a syringe. And the drug administered to Norton.

     She crept up the staircase, her steps reverberating around the room. She kept her breathing quiet until she reached the desk.

     Nothing. Nothing aside from…

     Files.

     Some ink. A blank sheet of paper. And surprisingly, doll versions of some of the survivors. Different materials and styles as well in apparent correspondence with each person’s respective culture.

     It certainly piqued her interest, but the woman decided it was best to look through the files lest she waste her time inspecting toys.

      She squinted at the file tabs: Campbell, Norton. Viluf, Eta. Desaulniers, Joseph. 

     Eurydice figured now was the time to get to learn a little more about that sketchy Prospector (and also about those other two if there was time), and hopefully, she’d find those tools soon. She flipped it open and began reading the latest entry:

     “Punishment administered. Dosage: 5 cc of ‘Siren Song. Same ‘settings’ per usual— refer to date XXXX.”

     There was some scrawl written under it, reading: “Lamb interrupted. Can someone please get Viluf and Claude restraining orders?”

     And then, under that, even more messier scrawl that took Eurydice several minutes to under. And all it said was:

      “DM, can you make me some coffee tomorrow? He was mad about the couch.”

     Eurydice groaned and shut the file. So apparently the Baron had access to some obscure drug that, with just five milliliters, caused Norton to have a sickness like that.

     Did he even know that Baron even know what he was doing? Who in the world was ‘DM’?  And there was no possible way Ithaqua and Galatea would even obey a restraining order—

     “Focus, Alice,” Eurydice grumbled, using her hairpin to unlock the drawers of the desk. Where did that syringe come from? Medbay? 

     The woman felt her heart practically race from excitement hearing the faint ‘click’ as the drawer opened. She hurriedly tugged it open, hoping for the medical tools…

     Close enough. In the drawer was rubbing alcohol, three empty glass bottles, gauze, and cotton balls.

     Interesting. Was the Baron an accident-prone man? Eurydice suspected he was the one causing accidents. He could’ve swabbed Norton’s arm and shot him after. But what were the empty bottles for? 

     As she pondered, her eyes drifted to the trash can right by the desk. She peered into it. 

     Damaged paper. Cigarettes. A photograph of Orpheus’ head buried in cake, sloppily cut from an edition of Oletus Manor Daily released some time ago. What in the world was that doing there? 

     Eurydice carefully took out the damaged paper, darkened by what she assumed was one of the many cigarettes in the trash can. She held it up to the light, only able to make out the words ‘order: 5 cc’.

     How utterly convenient. So this specific punishment was apparently ordered by the Baron himself as if he were a surgeon? Or was it someone else who ordered and the Baron performed it? 

     Eurydice tried to recall if the punishment for leaving the Manor had ever been specified to the residents. She thought of nothing— just the notion that there was a punishment.

     If Eurydice played the fool right now, would she also get injected by this suspicious drug? She was tempted to find out— and then blew off such a ridiculous thought a few moments later. Emily Dyer was stressed enough and Eurydice didn’t want Norton as a roommate of all people.

      Eurydice looked up and surveyed the room from her height on the platform. She trained her eyes on the couch. Why would Norton be mad about a couch? 

     Perhaps it was too rich for him. But such a detail wasn’t relevant at the moment…

     Eurydice placed the burnt paper back into the trash can and unlocked the second drawer below the one with the bottles.

     A single silver key. No labels.

     Eurydice immediately suspected it was a master key, most likely a backup. If only she could copy it right then and there…

     She sighed. No matter— the hairpin would have to do. She locked that drawer again and tried to think about the investigation some more. 

     The theory was correct— Norton’s current state was a punishment imparted by a 5 cc dose of a drug, Siren Song, administered by a shot. But was there anything else going on before that?

     Surely all those meetings must have happened for a reason, right? 

    Eurydice snatched Norton’s file once more.

                                       ~ 

     There was nothing quite like restraining your friend.

     “Campbell. Let’s get you back onto your medical bed.”

     “Fool’s gold! Why the hell can’t I move?!” Norton shouted as Naib held back his arm and dragged him over to the bed, practically throwing him onto it (as gently as possible. Gentle was key. Naib found he was anything but.) 

     “I am restraining you so that you don’t hurt me with your punches, Campbell.”

     “What the…” the Prospector in question squirmed about as he found himself back in the same place he had just stood up from. He couldn’t understand a word Naib said. 

     In fact, in his eyes, there was no Naib at all.

     There was something else more familiar, though, and that something else seeped out of  his nightmares and into reality as he continued frantically looking around.

     He was on a bed. But somehow, also in the Golden Cave.

     Something strange happened to his breathing. 

     “         !”

     He heard something, he heard something. Gold be dross, he heard something. 

     The corners of his vision darkened once more. There was a strange smell in the air akin to alcohol. But why was there alcohol in the cave? Why did this nightmare, if it was one, feel a little too different than the usual? 

     Why was he back here?  

     He touched his face. He was awake. He knew it. He could tell he was awake.

      He looked around. Were those rocks in the distance? He felt something touch his shoulder.

     He looked. 

    Who was it? Who was touching him? There was nobody there. Nobody, right? Nobody there—nobody alive, at the very least. Aside from himself. (But it was over now, wasn’t it?)

     And soon enough if he didn’t find a way out he would die like the rest of them! (But it was over now, wasn’t it?!)

     Was he possessed? Was this what this was? He opened his mouth to curse and heard nothing. He felt himself lie down, looking at something that appeared to be the ceiling of the cave— although he couldn’t quite tell.

     Norton tried to pull away from whatever was subduing him. He swore under his breath as he heard something else.

     Something even more familiar. 

     “Not now, not now…” he whispered as he swore he heard the sound of rocks trembling.

     Something was moving around him. Something was moving around and making a noise and if he didn’t do anything he’d be trapped in the wake of a cave-in because of the rocks and…

     He could almost feel the smoke of the dynamite. He could almost feel the dust on his hands as rocks crumbled around him. He could almost feel the darkness just as it was the day he believed he was going to die.

     Almost, almost, almost. 

     “Stupid… It’s not real, its not real,” he felt like an indignant fool of a child for having to repeat those words to himself through gritted teeth. It was over now, it was over now! What in the fool’s gold was wrong with him? He wasn’t in the blasted cave, right?! Not anymore! 

     He forced his eyes shut. The feeling of darkness went away slightly. 

     He took a deep breath. More alcohol. Something foul in his mouth. It wasn’t like that on that day.

     For some reason, he started counting. Some of the rocks cleared to reveal blurry, bright surroundings instead. 

     Blurry. His eyesight became more terrible after the explosion…

     After it. This cave, this familiar cave… he begged himself to understand it wasn’t even here. 

     It was already gone.

     There was a strange noise at his feet. All of these noises— his mind was about to explode. There was an itchy sensation under his skin as his eyes darted in all directions trying to find that particular noise.

     “           .“ 

     It was a lighter noise. Kinder. Like a canary chirping. 

     Norton looked to his feet.

     There was something there.

     Something he had never seen in a cave before.

     A white kitten.

Chapter Text

    That evening, dinner was quiet. Suspiciously so, amid quiet whispers wondering about a certain grumpy, emotionally scarred sick man. 

     The hunters missed his babyface (not really-- but some insisted he had one) scowl. The survivors missed someone to tease. The children missed the angsty uncle figure. 

     “I left him some gold today…” Kreacher Pierson, local thief, muttered to Emma, who eyed him and his dirty clothes with pursed lips. 

     “Where’d you get gold, Mr. Pierson?” she chirped.

     “Oh, I just returned it back to him.”

     “Mr. Pierson…”

     Then the dining room door creaked open.

     In the doorway stood Naib with Norton Campbell, scratching his back with Pearl held to his chest. 

     “Where’s blonde woman?” he slurred upon arrival at the table, scrutinizing the chair where she usually sat as if it had eaten her. Then he looked at the empty spot on the table before him.

     Oh, fool’s gold, he was hungry.

     Thankfully, Luchino’s little helpers sprang into action.

     “Mr. Norton! Here’s the usual bread and butter for you,” the little girl and Robbie scrambled up to him, the girl holding a platter with warm bread on it while Robbie helpfully held a pure slab of butter.

     Norton paused where he stood. And then he looked down at the kids, then at his chair, and then at Naib.

     “Distracting me with food, eh?” he remarked, taking the slab in full and popping it into his mouth. He chewed and took his seat while Naib retrieved the bread and placed it in front of him. The survivors all made sure to assess his condition.

     Norton ate as sloppily as possible to disturb them all. 

     “What is he-- Naib?” Margaretha mumbled. 

     “You look better already, Norton,” Eli smiled. He was seated in front of him with his welsh food half-eaten. Brooke Rose once again stared into Norton’s eyes. Weird little bugger. 

     “I think your owl wants me dead, buddy,” Norton scoffed, tearing what was left of bread in half as Naib took a seat next to him, where Eurydice usually sat.

     “You even have motor skills now,” Freddy Riley, who sat by Eli,  said with a blank expression and a disgustingly condescending tone. His eyes were on Norton’s bread. 

     “Oh, shut your trap, Riley,” Norton rolled his eyes. Naib looked between the duo as whispers filled the room. Of course, the attention fell to Norton. As it constantly seemed to within the last twenty four hours. 

     “Did he see our gifts yet?”

     “Ohh, what a miracle! Dr. Emily works wonders, that angel!”

     “I can feel his cat touching my foot… Ann, Ann get it off me!”

     “So, nobody’s answered my question,” Norton, in an uncharacteristic move, suddenly leaned against the table and made eye contact with just about everybody. His voice was louder than usual. “Did the blonde lady leave early or what?”

     The survivors looked amongst each other in perplexion, trying to find Eurydice. 

     “She was here some time ago…” Orpheus murmured, squinting at Eurydice’s chair as if it was hiding her. “Perhaps she just went back to her room.”

     Naib looked at the novelist, and then at Norton, and then at the dining room door knowingly. 

    She was probably out snooping again. 

     “Why’re you asking, Norton? D’ya miss her or something?” Lily, with her pompoms on the table, shot Norton a cheeky smile. “I think we’ve finally found his soft spot! Norton makes his first lady friend!”

     “...You’re a soft spot,” the near friendless Prospector retorted, wrinkling his nose at her. She smiled back. Freakily. 

     Florian gave her a proud smile beside her. 

     “Anyway, Eurydice’s probably in her room,” Naib lied. “Do you want to go visit her, Norton?”

     Norton blinked. He glanced at Naib, and then looked down at his bread, and then looked at Robbie, who was coming through with another slab of butter, and shook his head.

     “First I gotta eat.”

                                                              ~

     Oletus Manor had to be one of the most bizarre, most conspiratory, most eccentric places ever.

     Now it was going to be scandalous.

     “If I’m getting this correct,” Eurydice mumbled to herself, flipping through the hundreds of notes she had taken upon her return from the office. “Norton Campbell. Norton [MIDDLE NAME] Campbell. The Prospector… has been repeatedly drugged as punishment in order to observe how a drug… yes, a drug from a plant somewhere in the vicinity of Scotland… affects his psychology? In regards to… how he copes with trauma? And the efficacy of the drug? And his interactions with others? And the reason why the Baron is doing all this is still unknown?!”

     Eurydice’s eyes bulged from her head at this point. It was true. It had to be true. It was from the primary source. The Big Bad Baron source. 

     And yet it all seemed like some kind of fairytale-- if fairytales involved Victorian-era men adopting cute cats and then getting drugged for it. 

     “I can’t believe this,” Eurydice slumped in the chair at her desk. And then she looked at some of the other notes she had taken in regards to other residents living here. It included some things like:

     ‘The little girl is extremely fond of truffle cake.’ 

     ‘Michiko has been exposed to a low level of the same drug Norton was repeatedly exposed to, as well. At the lower dose she experienced no hallucinations or uncharacteristic thoughts/desires.’

     ‘Richard Sterling has confessed the desire of stealing the children’s mac and cheese under the influence.’

     ‘I was drugged too???’

     “I can’t believe this,” Eurydice repeated again, her voice low, slamming her hand over her own note about her own self being experimented on like some blonde tiny guinea pig. “I’m going to expose this Baron’s as--”

     “Hey there, Eurydice.”

     “Naib,” she breathed sharply and slammed her notepad shut, gracefully tossing it into her bed. “What a lovely surprise.”

     Beside him was a slouched Norton Campbell with Pearl in his arms. He looked like some kind of brooding, rebellious teenage boy.

     “Oh,” Eurydice frowned.

     Norton eyed her sitting at her desk. Naib pushed him forward.

     “Hey,” Norton said, letting Pearl roam free. She promptly left the room

     “Hi,” Eurydice stiffly answered. 

     “Can you give me more of the medicine from earlier?”

     “...Where is Dr. Emily?”

     Norton paused. And then for some reason, he just stared at her. Naib sighed and gently brushed past him.

     “Emily’s helping with the dishes,” Naib folded his arms. 

     “Okay,” Eurydice pushed her chair away from the desk and stood up. “I guess I can help with that.”

     So the trio awkwardly and silently headed for the medbay. 

     Eurydice couldn’t meet Norton’s eyes knowing what he had been through. Norton couldn’t meet Eurydice’s eyes because he couldn’t keep his vision stable for more than a second.

     “I’m gonna puke the bread,” he dazedly said as Naib helped him onto the medical bed in the room.

     “Don’t,” Naib told him. Eurydice was too disturbed to giggle at the strangeness of it all. She poured the medicine into the spoon and then turned.

     Only to see Norton roll off the bed. 

     “Hey! What the pyrite… this isn’t Pearl! Where the [incomprehensible Scottish swear words] did I put her!” he shouted from the ground, wielding a plush white kitten made by Annie Lester with ‘get well soon’ written on its side.

     “Oh no,” Naib pinched his nosebridge. He looked at Eurydice.

                                                          ~

     Meanwhile, Pearl was where all the action was. She watched near a corner in the dining room. All of the residents aside from Norton reconvened thirty minutes after dinner to figure out how to boost Norton's morale.

     Some discussion had already gone underway. It was revealed that nobody told Eli, Eurydice, or Naib about the meeting. Orpheus said it was because they'd ruin 'the surprise'. Many agreed fiercely with the novelist. The Will Brothers were assigned to stand guard at the door and begin profusely laughing if somebody dared to enter. 

     What was the surprise itself, however? It was still up to debate.

     “We’ll surprise him tonight with a song,” Mary announced, her voice hushed as she looked at the dining room crowd. She stood on top of her chair, looking down at all the short little residents. 

     Hunters and survivors alike stared at each other in total bewilderment. First it was Demi with the wine party, then Brynhildr with the sports tourney, and now…

      “What are we? A church choir?” Galatea folded her arms, almost knocking over her statuette of her in a boxing ring with Ithaqua. “This guy over here can’t even speak without his mask on. And what’s Grace going to do, huh? Sign her way through?”

     Ithaqua, who was in fact wearing his mask (and his stilts) hovered behind Galatea, glaring at the back of her head. Grace signed for him to be at ease.

     “Um, hello?” Mary placed a hand on her hip. “They’ll be dancers, obviously.”

     Margaretha Zelle blinked many, many times, as Mary’s eyes slowly drifted over her. Then Mary opened her mouth once more. “And you’ll lead them, Zelle.”

     “Um… okay--”

     “What song are we even going to do? It's going to end up be something simple, like a nursery rhyme,” Luchino reclined in his chair, shaking his head. The door quietly opened. 

     “Choose something French!” Joseph hooted from his chair. Eli's face peeked in. 

     Antonio growled and smacked Joseph’s shoulder with his violin. “Italian is superior… choose that instead!”

    Mary chuckled at the older two and crackled her knuckles. “We’ll see about that--”

    “Miss, we’re not actually going to sing for Campbell, are we?” Richard folded his arms as Eli crouched down and watched from an angle. “It seems a little too… sentimental. I mean, the man is not dying. Respectfully.”

     “You never know the hour you will leave this earth,” the little girl beside him took Andrew’s flower crown from Emma into her tiny hands and then did the sign of the cross. Andrew blinked and pursed his lips, staring at her. Pearl meowed at Eli and licked his shoe.

     “Which is precisely why we must sing to him!” Mary raised her index finger. “A happy soul makes a happy body!"

     “I don’t think that’s how that works--” Luca began with a raised eyebrow. Pearl licked Eli's hand as Eli softly, cooed, taking her into his arms. 

     “Maybe you don’t know how life works, Balsa!” Mary cheerfully retorted as Pearl and the Seer made strange noises in an attempt to communicate at each other. “Anyway, please say yes to my suggestion, everybody! Or else…”

     “Or else what?” Marcus said, drumming his fingers over the table. The unimpressed members of the cat cult watched her intently. Ann detected a soft purr from across the room, near the doorway. 

     She locked eyes with Alva, who had apparently heard it, too. Marcus, who was in between them, blinked in confusion. 

     “I have the keys to everybody’s room,” Mary smiled. And as the acting housekeeper  of the Manor (who even let her do this?), it was no empty threat.

     "There is a kitten among us," Ann quietly declared as another soft purr passed through her eyes. 

     "Where?" asked Alva, squinting at Marcus. Marcus wrinkled his nose at him and looked away. 

     "Meow," said Pearl, looking into Eli's blindfold. She pawed at it gently. Eli chuckled quietly and brushed her paw away. She purred again this time, louder. 

     "There!" Ann stood up from where she sat, pointing at the precise location of Eli Clark near the doorway. 

     A collective gasp followed. Mary, confused as to why everyone had such a dramatic reaction to what she assumed was one of her own statements, slowly turned her head (and just her head) towards the door. Her jaw dropped. 

     Eli Clark, in all his sneaky glory, was about to leave the room.

     "SEIZE HIM!" Mary cried. 

                                                           ~

    “Seriously? Ugh, Desiré, you should’ve told me earlier. I wouldn’t have shut myself in trying to find out who's been snooping around in the office if I heard of Mary’s stupid plan.”

     “It’ll boost morale, Detective, you must understand! They’ll be voting on a song soon. They’ve held Eli hostage and nobody is allowed to go find Naib, Eury, or Norton lest the surprise gets ruined.”

     “Joseph--”

     “Um, it's Desire Melodis, Orpheus.”

     “Shut your trap, heavy wet.”

     “Ooh, don’t let your little orphan hear that kind of language from your mouth.”

     “Oh my ink, Joseph. Don’t bring her into this.”

     “Fine! Have you. Was your little investigation up to par, hmm?”

     “It's probably one of the smart ones. Tracy, Eurydice, Marcus…”

     “You… haven’t figured it out yet?”

     “No. The little spy is good. I’ll have to start boosting security.”

     “You don’t think it's Eurydice, do you? She’s the only one with access to the directions.”

     “Why else do you think she’s a suspect, you goof? It's fine. I’ll take her in and use one of the drugs and the rest’ll be history.”

     “Be careful with that one. She’s a fighter.”

     “Okay? Speaking of drugs… what do we think about Campbell’s punishment?”

     “Well, you can extend it as long as you like. But I think the Manor’s understood the message. My suggestion? Cure him at midnight. As long as it's after everybody sings.”

     “...You’re really invested in this thing, aren’t you?”

                                                           ~

     “This song is called ‘Me and My Baby’. It's written by me and Joseph and composed by Frederick and Antonio,” Mary, holding an unplugged microphone, announced to a tied up Eli Clark. Behind her, on her left, was the singing ensemble. To the center were the instrument players and their instruments, and on the right were the dancers. 

     Mary cleared her throat, and then opened her mouth to sing. “My dearrrrr little baby…”

     She smiled and then began swaying, taking steps here and there. “My sweet! Little baby--”

     And then she tripped over the microphone wire. 

                                                             ~

     Norton, in fact, did not barf up the bread. 

     “Mmf,” he smacked his lips together after tasting the medicine. “Just as awful as always. It's so bad it makes me sane again.”

     Eurydice grimaced. “Do you think it's been helping you overall, though?”

     “Maybe. I dunno. You know, I had a hallucination earlier.”

     Eurydice looked to Naib. Naib gestured for Norton to continue. 

     “It was like a standard nightmare. ‘Cept for the fact that I saw Pearl.”

     “Pearl…” Eurydice looked back at the kitten she had located. She had been snooping around and had been watching Dr. Emily and Sangria attend to a fallen Mary. Eurydice had hastily snatched Pearl from the corner when nobody was looking.

     “Yeah? What about her?” Norton eyed Eury’s distant expression. “Eyes over here, goof.”

     Her eyes drifted back to him. “Oh, yes, my apologies. I was curious about why.”

     “I dunno. You should ask Mesmer for me— it's probably some weird mental thing.”

     “I’d be surprised if we all didn’t have ‘weird mental things’, Norton,” Eurydice mumbled. 

     “Still doesn’t change my point,” Norton shrugged and shot her a bored look. “What did you have for dinner, huh? Usually you stay behind everybody else.”

     ‘Wow, he’s actually making small talk with me,’ she glanced at Naib for a brief moment. He got the message just with that bewildered look. It did not escape Norton’s gaze.

     “I had some writing to attend to,” Eurydice answered, her mouth small as she spoke. She looked around and gestured for Naib to attend to the door.

     Now would be a great time to tell Norton there was more to this Manor than just money.

     “All these authors… What are you-- Orpheus? Fool’s gold, you’d better not be.”

      “Rest assured I am not that talented  at  writing fiction, Norton…”

     She trailed off hearing the door click shut with  Naib leaning on in it. Norton eyed them curiously.

      Eurydice took a seat next to the prospector. His gaze followed her as she did so.

     They locked eyes soon after.

     It was very uncomfortable. 

     “Norton,” she sharply inhaled, placing her hands together.

     “Yeah?” 

     “Remember how I told you how you got sick?”

     “Yeah?”

     Eury grimaced. “The Baron’s actually been drugging you for the past six weeks.”

                                   ~

     “She doesn’t have a concussion. She’ll be fine,” Emily said, her hand resting over Mary’s head as she dramatically lay sprawled on the dining room table. She had insisted nobody leave so that nobody would spoil the surprise. 

     With the threat of her sneaking into rooms still looming over everyone’s heads, nobody dared to.

     “I see the light…” Mary mumbled, raising her hand to the chandelier above the table. “Adieu, mon amis…”

     “Arrête ton cinema!” Joseph scoffed, his arms folded as he loomed over her. “You will scare the children and cause a scene, Mary.”

     “Ugh, fine,” she flopped her arms down and let Emily continue to inspect her head. 

     Those who weren’t observing the doctor were watching over Eli Clark, who was unfortunately still tied to the chair.

     “I won’t even tell him,” he sighed. “Seer’s honor.”

     “You’ve hidden secrets from us before, Clark…” Galatea twirled her chisel slowly, menace in her tone. “Like that cat.”

     “Let’s see how his foresight can help him now,” Ithaqua scoffed.

     Grace held up a paper depicting all the hunters laughing at Eli tied to a rocket chair. Thankfully, he would not be blasting off any time soon.

     “Finally, we all agree on something,” Galatea nodded upon seeing the art. “It’s so amusing to see the little seer boy so small.”

     “Give the guy some wheels and he how he fares,” Ithaqua smirked. Galatea’s smirk fell instantly. 

     She wheeled straight in front of Ithaqua, only reaching to around his chest due to his stilts. “You’re insulting me, aren’t you…?”

     Her expression darkened. 

     Ithaqua grit his  teeth. 

     Grace shook her head in disappointment. Behind her, Antonio and Frederick were rehearsing the instrumental to the song with the occasional grunt or grumble.

     Grace was quite fond of the song itself— although she struggled to keep up with Ithaqua’s dancing (how did he do it, even with the stilts?), she enjoyed the jazzy feel of the song.

     “—The song is obviously about Norton and his cat, Galatea! What do you mean ‘human child’— did you not read Eurydice’s article?!” Ithaqua leaned down to meet her eyes. He even took off his stilts to do so.

     “It’s quite obvious they’re hiding something from us!” she hissed. “Listen to me, Ithaqua… Joseph runs Oletus Daily too. And he also made this song. There’s more to this ‘kitten’ story than we thought…”

     “Who is ‘we’?” Ithaqua scoffed and looked away, throwing his arms in the air. Eli watched the duo in amusement. 

     “Clearly me and Eli,” Galatea hissed, wheeling over to the  chaired man. “He’s smiling. He knows I’m onto him. He’s smiling.”

     “No, no,  the article was right,” Eli immediately shook his head the moment the two hunters’ eyes fell to him. “Trust me. I’d know.”

     “What you do know is—“ Galatea began, only to be cut off by Joseph’s wailing.

     “No, Mademoiselle Dyer! Mary has worked so hard for this performance! It cannot simply be ‘canceled’!”

     Galatea rolled away to go tune into the drama. Everyone else followed.

     Except Eli, alone on his island of a chair.

     “Joseph… it's not safe for her to be dancing and singing in these conditions. Do you want her to see the light for real? Then let her perform. But the Doctor's orders say she must rest.”

     “It’s that bad?” someone muttered. The crowd shook their heads and sighed and looked forlornly somewhere past Eli.

     “It’s because she wears high heels too much,” someone suggested.

     “No— Eli has cursed her because we tied him to a chair!”

     “No, no, no, not the superstitions again,” Emily immediately interrupted. “She’s simply sustained a twisted left ankle due to her fall, along with a headache. It's important for her to stay in her room and get some rest.”

     “Then who will sing ‘Me and My Baby’?!” Joseph cried.

     “Why can’t it be you?” one of the survivors retorted. 

     "I sing some parts--"

     “Because he’ll get drunk before any of it,” Emily scoffed under her breath. Joseph gave her a sharp side-eyed and huffed.

     “Who else can sing in this Manor?” Galatea asked, her voice scratchy as she  surveyed the crowd.

     “Sangria,” said Andrew, pointing to the Opera Singer of the Manor.

     “I don’t do vaudeville,” Sangria retorted. 

     “I nominate Andrew,” said Richard, pointing to the Gravekeeper of the Manor to embarrass him. 

     “I don’t do jazz,” Andrew grimaced.

     Galatea grunted. She looked up to Joseph, who looked back with sorrowful eyes.

     “Woe is me…” he mumbled softly. Some people comforted him with soft consolations while the Will Brothers solemnly carried Mary to her room. She was covered with the tablecloth. 

     The room fell into a quiet sorrow. Three hours of singing, dancing, and extremely awkward but efficient bonding to the wayside…

     “Oh, come on. Anybody can be a singer!” Brynhildr’s voice pierced through the quiet like a shot arrow. “I can sing. You can sing, Eta. We just need somebody who can sing jazz and dance like Mary.”

     “I’m already a dancer. I won’t do it,” Ithaqua huffed, eyeing his relative down. “You should sing if you’re going to be so insistent on performing.”

     “I didn’t say I sang well,” Brynhildr retorted. 

     “Michiko should sing,” Margaretha suggested. “She has a lovely voice.”

     “She really does!” Violetta chimed in.

     “I’m…” Michiko began. “I’ll pass.”

     “Orpheus should do it,” Freddy Riley folded his arms. “I’ve heard him sing nursery rhymes to the children. Therefore, he can sing ‘Me and My Baby’ as well.”

     “Mr. Beck can sing nursery rhymes too,” Emma side-eyed him with a rather disgruntled expression.

     “Nursery rhymes are for children,” Marcus sighed, stepping in between the two. “Norton Campbell certainly isn’t one.”

     “Are you sure about that?” Galatea smirked.

     “Nobody can replace Mary!” Joseph wailed again. “Oh, that lovely, lovely voice! I am grieved!”

     “He’s so dramatic over a simple song… I never knew he could get this sentimental,” Sangria murmured to Vera Nair. The perfumer sighed.

     “…I have an idea,” Ann crooned, stepping forward from her fellow cultists. Her voice was a hint louder than usual. 

     The crowd’s eyes met her with anticipation.

     “We must attack this issue at the root. Eli Clark must pay for what he has done to Mary by singing in her place.”

     Eli’s heart sank.

     He could feel every single pair of eyes in the room burn through his tiny little tied-up self in that tiny little dinner chair.