Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The countryside of Prism Plains was often a quiet place. Most of the time, all one could hear in the vast mosaic of prairie and farmland is the chirping of birds or the bleating of sheep. In the wee hours of the morning, it would be expected to be even quieter.

It was not exactly quiet on one stretch of road. The roaring of an engine filled the air with a rhythmic thrum, as the red car who possessed the engine made its way through the countryside.

The car currently held four of the most unlikely passengers. In the back of the car, there was police inspector Jecra, with his fiancé Garlude. In the passenger seat sat the inspector's arch-nemesis: the master thief (and manager of the inspector’s favorite cafe), Daroach.

Most odd of all was their driver. At a passing glance, one could not exactly discern exactly what was driving the posh red carriage: he wore a heavy cape and large hat, disguising his frame. If one were to be able to get a better look at this shrouded figure, they'd find him to be a beast composed of many different caniform attributes: he had the face and paws of a Gaw Gaw, the feathered ears and bushy tail of an Awoofy and the fur and claws of a Gao Gao. His cape hid Pteran-like wings, and his body hid the mind of a Puffal.

In actuality, this hodgepodge creature was none other than Sir Meta: an aristocrat from Diamond Town. Due to a poison currently unknown to him, he was forced to appear as a creature resembling his heraldic animal: a gryph-gaw. His passengers all knew his true identity, and had joined forces with him to help him reverse the effects of the poison.

It had been several hours after the start of this grand adventure, and already most in the car were either half-asleep or fully asleep. Only Meta remained entirely awake, fueled by adrenaline and determination.

Unfortunately for him, his car could not likewise be fueled by adrenaline and determination. He was well aware of it: while he had a spare can of fuel in the back of his car for just this purpose, that had already been used a while back. He looked anxiously at the fuel meter now, which was showing it was dangerously low.

Meta knew what he had to do. He had to alert his dozing co-pilot.

“Gaw! Gaw!” He barked, right in the ear of Daroach. While he wished he could use more eloquent language to alert his copilot, the effects of the cursed poison reduced him to Gaw Gaw-like vocabulary.

“85 lunch specials to go!” Daroach shouted, clearly coming out of some nightmare.”...urgh. What is it, Meta?”

Meta whined, pointing at the fuel meter. 

“...I can't see what you're pointing at. Remember, I don't have as good of night vision as you.”

Meta sighed, then pointed again, this time to the floor of the vehicle.

This command was something a bit more familiar to the mouse. “Do we need to stop?” He asked his gryph-gaw driver. When the driver nodded, Daroach used his cane to displace the rock on the gas pedal, letting the car slow down. In a few moments, the car was completely halted, and Meta gestured to turn the car off.

Once that was done, Meta ran to the back of the car, opening its trunk (as he had finally figured out a way to do so even with his clumsy paws). He sniffed around, hoping that he had accidentally put an extra spare can in there. Oh, how he wished he'd remember that in his rush to escape!

“What are you looking for?” Daroach asked, staring into the darkness of the trunk.

Before Meta could even attempt to answer, another voice joined in the questioning. “What's going on?” Garlude asked, now fully awake due to the sudden lack of movement.

“Meta’s stopped us for something. What that is, I have no idea.” Daroach responded to the lady.

Meta was just about ready to slam his head on the car. This whole curse was a massive frustration to him more than anything else. How else was he going to communicate with his companions? He looked down at his paws, sorely wishing he had that chalkboard back at Daroach's cafe with him.

That's when he realized something. He didn't need the chalkboard at this time! He had everything he needed right now at his very paw tips!

He dashed over to a patch of lighter clay dirt that could easily be distinguished in the moonlight. “Ga-gaw!” He cried, beckoning Daroach over. The aristocrat then started to dig in the dirt, using his claws to score marks on the path.

When Daroach made his way to where Meta had dug, he could clearly see what he had written. “Fuel,” He read aloud. 

“Fuel! Ha!” A voice shouted from the field across from the duo.

“Who goes there?” Daroach called back.

“I should be asking you folks that!” The voice responded. The sound of an old wheelie puttering then grew more and more apparent to all those awake. Soon enough, a portly cappy rode in, on that same old wheelie.

Meta acted quickly, wrapping his cape around his body as tightly as he could, making sure to tuck his tail underneath it.

“You city folks are up awful early!” The cappy chortled. “At least you two gentlemen; I sees you got some people out cold in the back of your carriage!”

“Actually, my good sir,” Garlude responded, “I am awake.”

“Aw, you can call me Harold; and this ol’ girl is Steady Sue!” He patted the wheelie on her fender, making her purr in contentment. Harold then continued, saying: “So, what's all this about fuel?”

“Well, we're from Diamond Town, but my friend here has urgent business in Tiramisu City, to help a condition of his. We've been driving nonstop since last-.”

“Wait, let me stop you there,” Harold said, cutting off Daroach. “You mean to tell me that you plan on taking that thing all the way over to Tiramisu City without having enough fuel?!”

“I apologize, but none of us barring my infirm friend knows anything about these carriages, and he's not exactly in the best of shape.” As if on cue from Daroach, Meta made a coughing sound to sell the mouse’s story. “We all left town in a rush, and it's very important that we get to Tiramisu City as soon as possible.”

“Well, if you ain't got fuel in that carriage of yours you ain't getting to Tiramisu City as soon as possible! That's the problem with those ‘wheelie-less carriages’: Steady Sue here just needs to chomp some grass to refuel!”

“Unfortunately, all we have is this carriage,” Garlude responded with a polite tone. “Would you happen to know if there's any place where we could get more fuel so we can make it to Tiramisu City?”

The cappy put a hand to his chin. “Well, Quartsun is just a few minutes' ride away from here. You're lucky ‘bout that. Not sure if they have a place for carriage fuel but there's a train station there. If ya really need to be in the city that quickly, yer gonna wanna take that train! It's at least half a day on the train, so who knows how long that hungry carriage is gonna take ya!”

Meta whined quietly, and looked at his car. While he wanted to get to Tiramisu City as soon as possible, he also didn't want to leave his most prized car out in the open where someone could take it.

Daroach, seeing the aristocrat's concern, said, “Is there any chance that you could hold onto his car while we're out taking care of his condition?”

“I'll cover any costs that holding it might bring,” Garlude added.

“Sure!” Harold laughed. “Might make Sue jealous but it'll look mighty fancy in my barn for the time being. I'll have it towed in the mornin. In the meantime, I'll ferry ya over to Quartsun; it'll just be ‘bout half an hour whilst I get Sue some backup and a wagon for y'all's to ride in. Why don't you get your affairs in order while I do that. See ya!”

With that, Harold goaded his wheelie into motion, riding off into the darkness.

“Well then,” Daroach said, turning to Sir Meta, “Looks like we're taking the rail to Tiramisu City. Sorry that your car plan didn't pan out like we had hoped, but at least it was the experience of a lifetime!”

Meanwhile, Garlude was attempting to get Jecra up from his sleep, so he could be ready for the connecting drive to the train station. “Jecra!” She said, shaking his organic arm as she did so, “we need to be moving!”

“Hrrmmm?” Jecra said as he slowly stirred awake. Despite being an early riser for a Diamond Town resident, he was a very heavy sleeper.

“We've got to be ready to head to the train station in half an hour!” She said in a hushed tone.

“I thought we were going to do our train trip after our marriage,” the inspector said, still half asleep.

“It's not for our honeymoon, Jecra,” Garlude said, now with a smile on her face. It sounded like he was ready for that trip too. But now was not the time for things like that: she had to remind him of current events. “It's for your big case.”

“We've had a bit of a communications problem,” Daroach told the inspector, now wide awake. “It turns out that while the good Sir Metians car is fast, it doesn't have good stamina: as such, we need to take the rail to Tiramisu City.”

Meta just stood there, stiffly. He wished he could talk in more than just scratches in the dirt. Maybe soon they'd find a more elegant solution to his communication problem.

Chapter Text

The Haltonium Heron screamed down the line. It had a busy schedule to keep, and had to run as fast as possible to make sure its passengers got to their stops on time.

By some stroke of luck, the group of four were able to catch that famous passenger train, as it was the first one through Quartsun that day. Not only that: they were also able to grab a sleeper car on the Haltonium Heron: a rare find indeed, and an expensive one at that. 

Not that the price mattered too much: the cost of a one-way ticket to Tiramisu City on that sleeper car didn't even put a dent in one of the boxes full of money that the group had with them. The price was worth it, as well, for one major reason.

The sleeper car gave Meta enough privacy that he could take off his hat and cape and still have his unusual appearance hidden. The fact that the group had beds to sleep on for the ride was just an added benefit: one that Meta in particular was taking full advantage of.

He was currently curled up in the usual manner that an Awoofy would sleep in, complete with ears folded down. He was out cold, completely exhausted from the night’s adventure.

“I'm surprised he can sleep so deeply on a rocking train like this,” Jecra commented to his traveling companions, in a hushed tone. “I doubt I'd be able to sleep with how this train keeps moving!”

“Weren't you fast asleep in the car just a few hours ago?” Daroach questioned, with a bit of a tone in his voice. 

“Keep in mind he's practically lived in a train for the past year,” Garlude said, more softly than the mouse thief. “This is probably what he got to live through for most of that time, and in a cage instead of a nice bed like the ones we have. Poor thing. No one should have to live through that.”

Daroach then had a realization. “Oh great,” he sighed, putting his hands to his temples, “I just remembered something important. One of my informants is really going to dislike Sir Metian…”

“What do you mean?” Garlude asked.

“Well, my researcher has a case of cynophobia.”

“Cynophobia? What is that, fear of the color blue?” Jecra questioned.

“Fear of dogs,” was the quick response from the mouse. “And it just so happens that our friend over here has been turned into a dog.”

“Can't you just say he's a gryph-gaw?” Garlude suggested.

“What is a gryph-gaw, anyways?” Jecra said. He wasn't as well-versed in mythical creatures like his companions.

“Meta knight is basically one,” Daroach answered. “It's a mix of a gaw gaw, a gao gao, an awoofy and a pteran: all canines barring the latter, but that only contributes the wings. I doubt changing the nomenclature will make my researcher fear him any less.”

“But where does it come from?” The inspector continued. 

“It comes from Delmontan legend,” Garlude said. “It's a heraldic beast with a whole tale tied to it. It's not a long tale, and we've got some time on our hands, so let me see if I can recall the whole story…”

—

Long ago, in the high evergreen forests of Delmonto, was a dragon that terrorized the countryside. Every year, it would choose a town, encircling it with a line of cursed fire that could not be put out, and devour every living thing within it. It would then go back to its lair, high up in the tallest peak.

Warriors trying to prove their mettle would try to go up that great mountain to slay the dragon. There was one safe path up that mountain, to the dragon's den; everywhere else was sheer cliffs with sharp, jagged rocks that would cut anyone brash enough to try it to shreds, long before they could even dare to face the dragon.

That safe path had obstacles of its own. On that route, a giant beast sat, chained like a guard dog to the largest, tallest tree in all of Delmonto. It would pull at its tether with a great force, causing all of the trees of the forest to shake in its struggles. 

Most of those going to face the dragon would be scared off by this creature. They'd run back to the perceived safety of their towns, where they'd be swallowed up by the dragon inevitably.

Some would scoff at it, seeing it choke itself on its chain, thinking that the dragon would be a pushover for trying to use a chained creature as a deterrent, especially since it never would actually attack passers-by. Those warriors usually ended up as appetizers for the dragon.

Eventually, the village of Denzeni was marked as the feast village for this dragon. Many of the townsfolk went into despair, seeing as their lives would be ended soon. 

There was one boy in that village that didn't fear. He left for the dragon's lair as soon as that horrid creature had made its presence known, barely escaping the line of fire that it would use to hold its prey captive.

The boy was not very well-prepared to face the dragon. All he had was a small handsaw, which he'd use to prepare firewood. He wasn't sure what else he could do, but he figured he'd be able to make a better weapon along the way.

When he made his way to the base of the mountain that the dragon lived in, he came across an old woman. She looked awfully cold. 

“Could you please build me a fire?” She asked the boy. 

Feeling pity for the woman, the boy took some time to build the woman a small fire, using the handsaw to break down fallen tree limbs into proper firewood. It wasn't much, but it was enough to give the woman some comfort.

“Thank you so much,” she said to the boy. “That handsaw of yours might not appear to be much, but it is a lifesaver. Take good care of it: it will save many more lives.”

Hearing these words of wisdom, the boy then continued his journey up the mountain. He followed the path through the forest, hearing the great evergreens quake all the while. 

Like so many before him, he crossed paths with the great clearing on the mountain path. In the center of the clearing was the tallest pine, and tethered to that pine was the guard beast.

Immediately, the guard beast ran towards the boy, golden claws gleaming in the light. Like always, it couldn't go too far before getting choked by its chain.

The boy was fearful at first, but something in the back of his mind told him to stand his ground. He noticed the beast wasn't angry at him, nor wanted to eat him. It looked as if it was asking for help!

The boy walked up to the beast, looking over the chain it wore. It was a thick coil of some sort of rope: something that resisted pulling, but could be cut. As such, he went to work on that line, cutting through it with his little hacksaw in a few moments.

Once the line had been broken, the beast had a shift in demeanor. It beckoned the boy to get on its back. Once he did so, the beast revealed a huge set of wings. It flew high in the sky, well away from the main path up to the dragon. It landed on a small cliff on the other side of the mountain, in an area inaccessible from the safe path. 

This cliff had a small secondary opening that led into the great dragon’s den. Upon entering the main corridor, the two could see clearly that the dragon was lying in wait at the mouth of the entrance on the safe path. It was clear now to the boy that the safe path was only a facade of safety: it was a trap set by the dragon to catch those wanting to kill him!

The dragon knew of the secondary entrance as well, of course. He had a separate trap set up there: a mighty net made from the silk of some ancient spider. Any flying creature would be bound to the silk in an instant, and would make easy prey for the dragon in turn. 

The boy's beast companion knew this well, which is why he brought the boy with him. The boy got the beast's idea immediately: with great haste, he went to sawing the lines of the net from their holding places. He skillfully and masterfully cut through each part of the net, letting it drop to the ground, draping over the distracted dragon.

He had gotten through most of the net before the dragon had finally figured out what was happening. He was too busy watching the mouth of the cave for intruders to feel the fine net land on him. Now that he knew there was an intruder on his balcony, he turned and spread his wings to fly to him. However, when he did this, he entangled himself in the threads of the net even more, making it hard for him to move. He tried to open his mouth to belch fire, but found it tied shut by the same threads.

It was then when the beast made its move, leaping off the balcony onto the dragon. It used its long golden claws like swords, taking the dragon's head off with one swipe!

It was over: the dragon was slain. No more would Delmonto be terrorized by this horrid beast! Denzeni in specific was freed from the dragon’s terror, with only a black scorched line surrounding the town as a reminder of his threats.

It was then when that same old woman came in through the mouth of the cave. “Well done, my boy!” She said, arms wide open. The beast brought the boy down from the balcony so he could meet with his old friend. “The real king of this mountain thanks you for saving his kingdom.”

As it turned out, the beast that was tied to the great tree was the gryph-gaw, the true king of the forests and mountains of Delmonto. He was a noble beast, using the virtues of courage, loyalty, strength and grace to rule over his kingdom. He wore these virtues openly, having the head and arms of the most courageous beast, the legs, tail and ears of the most loyal beast, the skin and claws of the strongest beast, and the wings of the most graceful creature in the sky.

The dragon had great jealousy of the king’s reign, and as such plotted to take him down. He lured the gryph-gaw into a trap, ensnaring him with a chain made from the silk of the ancient evil spider. He then tied his foe around the thickest tree in the whole forest, making it so he could not escape by his own power. Only someone matching his own virtues could ever help the gryph-gaw escape his prison.

“It is clear, then,” the old lady continued, “that you have the same virtues as king Gryph-Gaw: as such, you should likewise be king over the land of Delmonto!”

And as such, the boy then grew up to be the first king of Delmonto, and had a fair and just reign over the land.

—

“The end,” Garlude finished.

“You knew that whole story off the top of your head?” Jecra asked. While he did have an interest in stories, he hated to admit that he had trouble recalling everything that happened in a story at once.

“I got to hear it many times from Meta,” the lady said to her fiancé. “There's all sorts of little aspects that I probably missed in my retelling. Meta is way better at telling this story, I have to admit.”

“You told it well, regardless,” Daroach commented. 

“Indeed!” A voice from outside the room said. “A very well-told story!”

“And who might you be?!” Jecra shouted, not appreciating having an eavesdropper. Daroach quickly pulled the covers off of one of the currently unused beds and covered the sleeping Sir Meta with it, in case this eavesdropper was trying to peek in.

“Just a traveling entertainer going to Tiramisu City,” the voice replied. “There's a fair going on there, so I thought I'd lend my talent there. I always get antsy on train trips, so I've been pacing through the trains: I couldn't help myself listening to a good fairy tale, however!”

“Well, we're trying to keep our privacy!” Jecra retorted. “Don't you see that we have the door closed?”

“Sheesh, sorry to compliment! In any case, I must be off: if you're heading towards Tiramisu City, I'm sure we'll bounce into each other again.  I tend to attract the most interesting folks with me!” With that, the unknown voice bounded off to the cars in front of them, laughing heartily all the while.

“...Weird,” was the only thing Garlude could muster.

“I hope we don't bounce into him again,” Jecra commented.

At that point, the now-hidden Meta had stirred from his slumber. He crawled out from the bedspread, sniffing intently in the air. 

It didn't take long for the others to figure out exactly what was happening, by what followed. The door of their room got knocked on several times, followed by a much more welcoming voice, saying “breakfast service!”

Chapter Text

“Attention passengers: we have now arrived at Affogato Station. All passengers visiting Tiramisu City depart here.”

It had been several hours on the railway: it was a rather pleasant ride for the group, given the rather hectic night they had before. Other than the disturbance from that other passenger butting in early in the morning: that had Jecra on edge for the rest of the drive, with him opening the door just a bit to peek out. Thankfully, no similar events happened for the rest of their trip.

With the trip behind them, they left the train station, out into the streets of the great city.

And what a sight it was! In terms of technological advancement, Tiramisu City was way ahead of any town in the region, and it showed in the streets. There were way more lamps on the streets than even the Piazza della Luce back in Diamond Town, and the station wasn't even in the aristocratic portion of the city! It was clear that in a couple of hours these streets would be lit up brilliantly.

The lights weren't the only thing of note in the city: many vehicles populated the streets of the city, puttering up and down in a relatively orderly fashion. The cars had to, in order to avoid colliding with the streetcar that cut right through the center of the wide road.

For Jecra, who wasn't much of a traveler, this was all so new to him. All the sights and sounds of the city were quite overwhelming to the inspector. He couldn't fathom handling the hustle and bustle of such a large town…

“You see why I moved out to Diamond Town?” Daroach said, leaning over to Jecra as the group walked through the streets. “While I grew up here, I definitely think of myself more as a country mouse. If we're going to find anything about this poison we're investigating, it'll be here, and with my group.”

“So,” Garlude said, soaking in the beautiful architecture of the city, “where is this group of yours? How far will it be before we find them?”

“We're not too far from my old hideaway. It's quite convenient, my lady: whenever I need to catch up with my companions it's just a short walk away from Affogato Station.”

Daroach then turned his attention to Sir Meta. The aristocrat-turned-beast was once again using his full disguise now that he was out of a private car, and was using Daroach's cane as a crutch to walk upright. “Everything good back there?” Daroach asked him, which got a nod in turn. 

Daroach then continued, tone becoming more hushed and apologetic, “I'm sorry, but even when we get to my hideaway, I'm going to need you to keep an obscured silhouette. You see, I've got a companion who might be a bit apprehensive of your new appearance. I'll try to get things smoothed out with her, but don't take it too harshly if she's not exactly happy with seeing you.”

Meta Knight made no sound, but his lowered ears made it apparent he wasn't exactly the happiest Puffal on Pop Star. “Just great,” he thought to himself, “I'm going to be just another scary animal to another person…” Admittedly, he wasn't happy with his current appearance either, but he at least hoped this stranger might have a little compassion with his plight.

Eventually, Daroach took a sharp left down an alleyway, the rest of his group following close behind. It was a lot less crowded now that they were off of the main streets. While this region was nowhere near as opulent as the primary thoroughfare, it was still very nice-looking.

Eventually, they made their way to a side-entrance of a building. Daroach rhythmically knocked on the wooden door of the building, then whistled twice. The rustling of some scurrying creatures could be heard behind the door, and then there was a short period of silence. Soon enough, though, someone opened the door.

The oddest of contraptions greeted the four at the entrance. It was a red saucer-shaped clockwork chair held up precariously by six extremely thin jointed legs. Sitting at the center of the saucer, piloting the whole thing, was a tiny mustached mouse with extremely thick glasses.

“Hello, Dorocche!” The mouse greeted Daroach. “I thought you weren't coming over for the inventors fair, because of work. What brings you here…” he trailed off, looking at the three behind Daroach, “and with company?”

“They're my guests for the time being, Doc,” Daroach responded. “We're working on something big. I'll tell you when we're all off the street.”

“Well then, come on in! Any friend of Dorocche is a friend of mine!” The mouse, who's name was now known as Doc, then moved his contraption out of the doorway, waving one of its legs in a greeting manner.

Daroach turned to his traveling companions and said while taking a bow, “Welcome to my old home and my secondary headquarters. While it might not be exactly as luxurious as you all are used to, I promise it is very comfortable. In any case, it shall be our base of operations for the time being!”

Chapter Text

Once all four were inside the building and the door was closed, Doc made his way down the hallway using his contraption. “Spinni! Storo!” He yelled out as he led his guests through the building. “Get some tea going! Dorocche has something big planned!”

“So, this is where your accomplices work in,” Jecra said, looking at the rather well-kept (if a little bit scuffed from the contraption's legs) building.

“They are my informants,” Daroach said with a sharp tone. “They aren't thieves. And keep your eyes on the mission at hand.”

Meta whined a little at seeing the two men that were supposed to be helping him start to squabble. “I really hope this doesn't escalate further than this…” he thought to himself. 

He wasn't exactly paying attention to where he was placing the cane as he was walking, and as such when the wooden hallway became a carpeted living room he placed the cane in such a way that it slipped, making him crash onto the floor.

“Oh my!” Garlude exclaimed, rushing to Meta’s aid. 

“Is your friend alright?” Doc said, hearing the crash. “I see you've let him borrow the Triple Star as a cane.”

“Both yes and no,” Daroach replied. “He's likely not hurt by that fall, but what I'm working on pertains to the condition that requires him to borrow my cane. Though, if you so prefer, Sir Meta, such a thing isn't needed anymore, if you're comfortable with it.”

Meta nodded, getting up on all fours. While he wished he could be bipedal all the time, frankly it was getting very uncomfortable for the aristocrat to walk like that, even with support.

The group's host watched all of this with curiosity. “Interesting,” he muttered. “I suppose I'll learn all about it soon enough.”

“Learn about what?” A boisterous voice boomed from across the room they just entered.

“What I stole from the circus, Storo,” Daroach answered.

“Oh yeah! You managed to get the Coily Rattler, right?” Storo asked, enthusiasm clearly showing in his voice.

“Not exactly. I found something way more important.”

“Like what?” 

“Well, why don't you greet him?”

At that point, a rather large mouse in a red shirt rushed over to the rest of the group. Seeing how well dressed Daroach's companions were, he couldn't help but say: “Wow, you got some fancy people with you!”

“What's this about fancy people?” A more feminine voice called out from another room. 

“I think Dorocche rescued an aristocrat,” Doc answered.

“Ain't that the police’s job?” The voice called back.

“It is,” Jecra joined in. “That's why I'm here, too.”

The house immediately went silent. Both Doc’s and Storo’s eyes grew wide.

Daroach immediately spoke up. “Don't worry. He's promised not to arrest me until after we've got this case solved, and he won't go after you.”

Jecra wanted to say he never promised that, but seeing that he was currently outnumbered by the mice, figured that it was best to go along with Daroach. “Yes, indeed,” he said, taking in a deep breath immediately after.

“I also trust this inspector by his character. I know him very well, since he's one of my most loyal customers at the Gilded Treasure. He's got a good heart and a strong sense of justice. In fact, we share the same philosophy: one cannot turn a blind eye to evil, for doing so will lead to you inevitably being destroyed by it! So, while he might think of me as a thief, I trust him to help me with this rescue mission!”

Doc shifted about his contraption, clearly in thought. “Hmm…Dorocche certainly trusts you. I'll give you a chance, so long as one of us has an eye on you at all times.”

“Of course, of course!” Jecra stated. “All I want is to help Sir Meta. Whatever you need to feel comfortable enough to help me help him, I will do.”

“Who's this Meta guy, anyways?” The woman who was in the other room said, now making herself shown. She was a golden mouse wearing a red cloak and sharp readers glasses. She carried a tea set into the living room, putting it on the table in the center of the room.

Daroach took a quick glance at Meta, signaling to the aristocrat to hide himself more. Meta complied, wrapping his cape around his snout and folding his ears back.

Daroach then addressed the golden mouse: “Well, Spinni, Sir Metian is a good friend of this woman here, Lady Garlude.” Garlude waved to Spinni at the mention of her name.

“So, we're helping her with relationship issues?” Spinni asked.

“Actually, I'm engaged to Inspector Jecra. Meta is more like a brother to me: we're not even the same species,” Garlude replied.

“Okay, so we're helping the Inspector's fiancé's brother. Wonderful.” Spinni said, clearly unimpressed. Spotting Meta’s secretiveness, she continued, saying, “I'm assuming you're the Meta guy we're talking about. What's with the whole ‘hiding in the shadows’ thing?”

“Maybe he's shy,” Storo commented quietly.

“Before we continue, Spinni,” Daroach said, tone sharp, “you need to know Sir Metian is under the effects of some sort of poison that altered his appearance. I need to make it clear he is a puffal, not a gryph-gaw.”

“Gryph-gaw?” Spinni questioned, eyes narrowing. “What sorta thing is that?”

“I suppose I shouldn't dance around this,” Daroach said softly,” I know you're afraid of dogs, so you should know that Meta was basically transformed into a dog creature. That's why he's hiding his face for you. If you don't want to be in the room with him, that's perfectly fine: just know that what I'm working towards is making him not a dog, and would be grateful for your help.”

Spinni’s fur stood on end. “Well then,” she said, trying to keep her same cool tone.“Why'd he have to be a dog?! Don't these guys usually get turned into frogs or pigs?” She thought to herself.

“That's a terrible fate. I don't know what I'd do if I got turned into a dog…I'll see how I can help, though I will take up your offer to not be in the same room as him.”

“Jecra, why don't you give Spinni the vial? She's my main researcher, and she's currently gotten herself a good gig as a librarian for Central Dreamland Library.”

“Perfect!” Spinni shouted. “That's exactly the sorta thing I can do, and it means I'll be out and about!”

“Would you mind if I join you?” Garlude asked. “I've heard all about the Central Dreamland Library and would love to take a look around. You see, I'm a bit of a history enthusiast myself, and have wanted to stop by for years, but I've been busy with other duties as of late.”

“Sure thing: it'll be nice having a second pair of eyes to help. Now, gimme the vial so I can start my lookovers and let Meta have some breathing room.” Jecra nodded and gave Spinni the small white object, and she left the room.

“I promise you she's usually better than that,” Daroach stated once the golden mouse left, taking up a cup of tea. “But now that she's gone, Meta can relax a bit.”

Meta took no time in taking up Daroach’s offer, letting go of his cape and jumping onto one of the seats.

“At least you look like a good dog,” Storo said, observing Meta taking off his hat. “I like dogs, even if Spinni doesn't...”

Meta sulked a little in his seat upon hearing this. Didn't he just hear that he wasn't a dog?

“Like I said to Spinni,” Daroach stated, taking off his own hat, “he's a puffal, not a dog.”

Jecra, wanting to get things in order and not talk in circles about who is or isn't a dog, butted into the conversation. “Maybe we should figure out what we're going to do while Garlude and that Spinni lady are off at the library?”

Doc already had an answer in mind. “Well, the Inventor’s fair has a medical exhibition this year, and that starts tomorrow. Why don't we start there?”

Daroach gave the older mouse a sly grin, saying, “You still want to go to that fair, don't you?”

“Wouldn't you, too? And anyways, if anyone’s going to be showing off medicines that turn people into animals, it would be there!”

“Well, that settles it: we'll be heading to the inventor's fair tomorrow!”

Meta’s tail wagged with excitement. This was another one of those things that he pined for back in that cage in the train: and tomorrow, he'd get the chance to see the Tiramisu City Inventor’s fair once again!

Chapter Text

“Clawk! Ca-clawk!”

Several purple birds sat outside on the branches of a tree right outside of the Squeaks’ residence. They were busy chattering among themselves as they hopped around from branch to branch.

This morning commiseration stirred a certain aristocratic beast from his slumber. Meta grumbled a bit as he got up from his bed and walked towards the window where the tree could be seen from. While he was certainly used to getting awoken by birds in the morning, for the most part they were nowhere near as raucous as these birds were.

Feeling particularly grumpy with this awakening, he decided that he'd go and give them a taste of their own medicine. Putting his forelimbs on the windowsill, he hoisted himself up to where the birds could see him and let out a loud-

“GAW!”

Immediately the purple cawing birds stopped calling out to each other. They all turned to face Sir Meta. While the gryph-gaw couldn't see the eyes on the birds, he could feel their piercing gaze on him. It was almost unnerving.

Still, he figured that he just needed to push a bit farther to scare them off. “GAW!” he barked again, this time louder. This attempt was seemingly successful in scaring off the birds from their resting spots, as they all flew away at once.

Meta initially felt proud of this minor accomplishment, as these birds were a particular nuisance to him. However, as he was now becoming more awake, he realized that barking out a window was inappropriate in two ways. 

For one, he was acting unbecoming of a man of his standing. While he was currently trapped in the body of an animal, that shouldn't mean that he should stoop down to the actions of one! While he could forgive himself of such traits back when he was captive, now that he was free he should go back to more sophisticated behavior.

The other reason is that he needed to make sure that strangers didn't know that there was some beast out in the city. Such an event could end in an uproar, ending with him possibly in danger of losing his life.

Meta scanned the area for anyone who could have possibly seen him. Thankfully, this street seemed to be fairly quiet for the city, and while there were several people walking up and down the street, none of them appeared to be all the wiser of Meta’s presence.

Meta sighed softly as he got down from the window. “So, it really was just those birds,” he thought to himself. “I don't need to worry myself too much about them; it's not like they can capture me!” He made as close to a chuckling noise as he could approximate as he put on his hat and cape.

As Meta made his way out of his bedroom, he realized that it was rather quiet in the building. It was odd to him, as the night before the whole group was extremely lively in their mannerisms. Heck, even Spinni, being as avoidant of the dog-aristocrat as she was, could be heard making lively discussion with her fellow squeaks through the walls of her room. The fact that only one figure could be heard wandering around the house was kind of strange to him…

“Hey! Meta!” The figure called out to him. “Good morning!”

It was Storo, the big blue member of the Squeaks. While he appeared to be an imposing figure at first glance, in all actuality he was a kind, soft-spoken individual. Even still, he worked well as the intimidation guy, if such a role was needed during a mission.

At this point, however, such a role was not a necessity. Right now, he was playing a housekeeper.

“Do you need some help getting down, Meta?” Storo said, watching the gryph-gaw once again struggle getting down the small flight of stairs. 

Meta shook his head at this question, promptly before stepping on his cape as he took a step he spent several seconds figuring out in his head. He took a tumble down the last few steps, landing at the base of the stairwell, with his hat fallen off and cape over his snout. 

“You alright there?” Storo asked as he walked up to the fallen aristocrat. All that got was a bit of a grumble from Meta as he flicked his cape off his head. “Ah well. Daroach left you some breakfast out in the kitchen,” Storo continued, fiddling with his red bandanna as his guest dusted himself off.

“Left me? Shouldn't he still be around?” Meta thought to himself as he made his way to the small kitchen. Sure enough, there were a couple scones left out on the table, along with some sausages. They smelled really good to the gryph-gaw.

“I always like it when Dorocche comes over for special missions,” Storo mused aloud to Meta, “he always gets up extra early to bake good stuff. I bet you eat his stuff all the time.”

“Maybe not before, but definitely from now on,” Meta thought as he savored his scones.

“I bet you're wondering where all the others have gone,” Storo said as he pulled a newspaper off of a nearby counter. “Read this.”

Meta looked over the paper, eyes growing wider as he read the headline:

Deadly Drake: Diamond Town Aristocrat Mauled, Devoured by Circus Animal

The article went into detail about a story (obviously fabricated by Beryl) about how “Deadly Drake” got into Meta’s home and viciously attacked the aristocrat, pulling him out into the forest and eating him, leaving only his battered mask as evidence of his grisly fate.

“Dorocche and the inspector filled us in on what really happened with you and that imposter fellow in the morning; they figured that it would be a very bad idea for you to join ‘em at the fair.”

Meta audibly groaned at this. “Couldn't they have told me that personally?” 

His more logical side knew that it was for the best that he lay low for the time being. He knew well from past news that as soon as a circus animal got a name referencing something negative, then the public would want said animal to be killed promptly, often in a grand execution show. That was something that he definitely did not want to participate in.

That less logical side of him was still very upset: he really did want to go see the fair, after all! It was one of those things from his past that he looked forward to, and he already missed one year.

It didn't help that the rest of his group left him alone, with a practical stranger as a babysitter. He would at least have had some personal communication!

“I'm sorry if it's disappointing to you,” Storo said, reading the gryph-gaw’s body language well, “but Daroach told me that it's important that they get to investigating as soon as possible, and that meant leaving you to sleep a little bit longer. I'm sure I'll think of something to keep us occupied in the meantime!”

“Yes, occupied,” Meta thought to himself. “Like I'm a toddler.” He figured he might as well, seeing as what that more impulsive side of his could possibly lead to him ending up being executed. He'd figure out something on his own.

Chapter Text

If Tiramisu City was a modern marvel of dreamland, the Tiramisu City Inventor’s Fair was a brief window into the future. All sorts of brand new inventions were out on display for all visitors to view and interact with. 

Due to the fact that Tiramisu City was one of the birthplaces of steam engineering, it was no surprise that there were many steam-powered contraptions buzzing about the fair grounds. From cars much faster and louder than that of Sir Meta’s racing around a track to pipe organs playing popular music of the time on the backs of hexapedal stages, it was clear that the imaginations of Dreamland inventors were running wild and free.

Most prominently in the grand square was a runway for the newest proven inventions: flying machines! Ground-bound species had in recent years cracked the code to getting airborne using several different kinds of machines, which were now proudly on display as the centerpiece of the fair.

The smallest member of the Squeak Squad definitely looked like he belonged in the Inventor’s Fair. Doc, with his bronze contraption walking down the thoroughfares on spindly legs as if it was his actual body, attracted quite a bit of attention from visitors of the fair. He always managed to give passers-by a quick grin and a wave with one of the grasping limbs of the machine as they gawked at him.

The attention on Doc was actually a blessing in disguise for his two companions: that meant they could discuss observations with less attention on them. The duo of Jecra and Daroach were currently looking over a map of the fair grounds.

“Now, where would a medicine peddler set up shop…” Jecra mused to himself, completely lost in the cryptic mess that was the fair map.

“Maybe in the pavilion labeled medical progress?” Daroach replied in a hushed voice, pointing hard at the label right above said pavilion on the map.

“Well, excuse me for getting lost in this labyrinth of a park!”

“Aren't you supposed to be the great inspector here?!”

Before anything could escalate, Doc spun around in his seat, staring both men directly down. “Are you both children?!” He shouted at the two of them. “Keep your eyes on the goal. We're on a quest and getting angry at each other isn't going to help us on that quest.”

Upon being scolded by the old mouse, the inspector and thief both quieted down, but still refused to look at each other.

“Now, Dorocche,” Doc continued, focusing again on the pathway ahead, “you found the medical progress pavilion. Do you know where we are in relation to that?”

Before Daroach could speak up, out of nowhere a large ball came flying into the direction of the trio. It clipped one of the legs of Doc’s mech, making it unstable. It attempted to self-correct with one of its other legs, but it never quite righted itself. As such, Doc kept on wobbling forward in his malfunctioning mech.

“Doc! I've got you!” Daroach called out, following his troubled companion down his unintended pathway.

Jecra was about to follow the two, but found himself face-to-face with one of the weirdest-dressed fellows he had ever seen.

He was a short, purple creature: similar in stature to Sir Meta (in his true Puffal form, mind you), but seemingly lacking arms. He was dressed quite like a jester, wearing a comically oversized bow tie and a two-sided cap, one side blue and polka-dotted and the other side red and covered in triangles. His face was obscured by an asymmetrical mask: the left side depicting the sun and the right side depicting the moon.

“Hey hey hey!” The stranger greeted, quite jovially. “Would you happen to have seen the ball I've misplaced? I was doing a trick and I slipped a bit. These shoes are quite slippery, after all! Ha ha!”

“Of course I saw it!” Jecra replied, quite irritated with this new man. “You knocked someone off balance because of it!”

“Wait a minute!” The man cried out in realization. He got a grin to match the one on his mask. “You're that ball of sunshine I talked to on the train! Funny seeing you here, Mr. Shine!”

“It's not funny!” Jecra snapped back. “It's creepy. Are you following us?”

“Who said anything about us, Mr. Shine?” The unwelcome stranger cooly replied. “And anyways, I'm here for the inventors fair. I always love performing my schtick at these sorts of places. What brings an inspector like you around here?”

“How did you know that?” Jecra gasped.

“I've got a good inclination for those sorts of things,” was the reply. He then stretched a bit up towards Jecra’s level, then whispered in his ear: “Let me see if I can guess why you're here: you're going to go and steal some medicine to go and help an ailing friend of yours!”

“Steal?! How dare you accuse me of that!”

The masked jester continued whispering, saying, “You’re in cahoots with a master thief. What else am I to suspect?”

Jecra was astonished. How did this stranger know so much about his mission and about the Crimson Phantom?

As if the jester could read his mind, he smartly said, “Remember, I've got real good inclinations on things like this. But don't worry: it's my secret! Plus the police don't trust fools like me, so it's not like I could…rat…you out! Hohoho!”

“First of all, I've already got him covered. He's practically already under arrest, and he's just helping me with a more important mission before he goes behind bars. Secondly, we are just investigating some medicine. No stealing. Got it?!”

“Alright, Mr. Shine. You won't steal. Just make sure Mr. Bright over there doesn't, either! I'm sure you know how difficult it is to keep a hold of slippery criminals like him. Just a tip from good ol’ Marx!” With that, the jester now known as Marx bounded off, blending in with the crowd.

Jecra just stood still in astonishment at the conversation that just took place. He was even more off-put than before. 

“Hey! Jecra!” A familiar voice called out. It was Daroach, rushing through the crowds to reach the inspector. “I got Doc’s contraption under control, but it looks like it'll need some repairs. He'll be at the repair yard for the time being. I did manage to find where the medical pavilion was while I was at it. Where were you?”

“Just someone wanting to talk to me,” Jecra said. He was unsure if he wanted to tell Daroach the exact discussion he had, as it might raise suspicions in him if he so happened to actually want to steal something. “I'll make sure that I don't let that happen again.”

As the two walked in the direction of the pavilion, Marx watched them in the distance, bouncing from one foot to the other on his ball. “I've got the sun primed,” he thought to himself. “Now to prime the moon.”

Chapter Text

Tep. Tep. Tep. Tep.

Sir Meta stood at the top of the stairwell of the Squeak’s abode. He had been practicing going down the stairs for the past few hours. This was an obstacle his cursed form presented that particularly frustrated the aristocrat. If he was going to be cooped up in this house for the time being, he might as well get it down!

As it currently stood, he was able to get down the stairs without falling, like he had that first time in the morning. He still had to put a lot of thought into where he placed his paws, so he was currently attempting to cut down the time he took between steps.

Tep. Tep. Tep.

This was something that required quite a bit of focus: an aspect that he was struggling with. For one, Storo had put some sort of music on using a phonograph the Squeaks owned. While it was an invention Meta was familiar with in his past life, Storo still introduced it to him as if he had never seen it before. 

Currently, the phonograph was belting out some catchy piano tune that Storo particularly liked. The large mouse hummed along to the tune as he did some light clean-up. 

Tep. Tep.

And then there was that infernal tapping noise. Something started tapping on a window that neither Meta nor Storo could see from the ground. While Meta could fly to the window, the aristocrat did not particularly want to fly in such an enclosed environment.

While each sound would be alright in isolation (minus the tapping, as that would still be rather obnoxious), together it made it quite difficult for the transformed puffal to focus on his task. His sensitive Awoofy ears picked up too much noise!

Still, he honed in as much as he could. Taking a deep breath, he started making his way down each step. Since he had been practicing for a while, he was getting the hang of placing his paws down in a way where he didn't trip over something.

He was almost down the stairs when-

“Hey! Meta!”

That caused the gryph-gaw to miss the very last step, making him belly flop onto the floor. He chuffed in disappointment at himself, but otherwise just shook himself up, ready to go meet with his caretaker.

Storo was in the dining room, holding a small wooden box wrapped up in a blue ribbon. “I was going through the cabinets when I found this,” The red-clad mouse said as Meta took a seat at the table. “It has what you are on it! Take a look.” Sure enough, on one of the corners of the light wooden box, there was a burnt emblem of a gryph-gaw segreant.

“Daroach gets a box o’ these every couple of months from one of the guys we helped a while back. Apparently you can't really get this into Diamond Town unless you're a fancy man, so Daroach just gives them to me. You're a fancy man, though, so I'm sure you've had it!”

Meta just nodded in response, not taking his eyes off the box. He knew what was in that box. Chocolate. Delmontan chocolate.

Specifically, it was from the Gryph-Gaw’s Grove chocolatier: a very high end chocolatier. It was one of those types of treats that only people like Sir Meta could buy on the regular. Even then, he'd only occasionally buy a box or two of their truffles to enjoy over a long period. Truth be told, the quality of Gryph-Gaw Grove’s chocolates was so high that it spoiled the Puffal aristocrat on sweets: if a dessert couldn't match the quality of those treats, he would have nothing of it.

Storo then opened up the beautifully crafted wooden box, revealing a set of masterfully crafted artisanal truffles. Each piece was made with special care and attention, to the point where they each looked like a work of art in their own right.

Meta was not paying attention to the sounds he was making outwardly. In his awe-struck stupor, he was actually whining like a begging dog.

Storo did take notice of this, however. “So you do like these? Would you like a couple?”

Would he? Would he?

“Gaw-gaw!” Meta barked, nodding in enthusiasm. It had been too long since he had been able to partake in his favorite treat!

Storo placed three truffles in front of Meta. While the logical side of the aristocrat was going to pick the treats up in a manner befitting his etiquette, the more animalistic side of him won over. In an instant, he had taken one of the chocolates in his mouth off the table and began gnawing on it.

It tasted just as he had dreamt of it on those cold nights back in the circus train. He could never forget the perfect balance of intense bitterness and elegant sweetness that came from Gryph-Gaw Grove’s masterpieces! 

He didn't feel the need to savor it too much, however, as he gulped down the other two in a fraction of the time he would enjoy the same amount of truffles years ago.

“Hehe, that's how Spinni usually eats hers,” Storo commented in amusement. “Believe it or not, I actually like to save these over a long time. I've got too many other good things to eat to waste my appetite just on those! Like lunch! I'll make some while you continue doing your stairs practice.”

Storo got up, put his box of Gryph-Gaw Truffles back in the cabinet, and left for the kitchen, leaving Meta alone. Meta just sat there for a moment, thinking. He had questions specifically about how the Squeaks could have managed to acquire such a luxury.

“How does Daroach manage to make friends with people who regularly afford luxuries like this?” Meta thought. He then had a realization: “Of course: he's helping them with troubles like mine!”

With that, the aristocrat jumped down from his seat and made his way back to the stairwell, ready to take down this obstacle once again.

Chapter Text

The Central Dreamland Library was a serene yet extravagant building. Multiple floors held all sorts of literature from every corner of the continent. Whether it was an epic, an encyclopedia or even a patent, at least a copy of it was available at the Central Dreamland Library.

It was the last of these that Spinni and Garlude were currently looking through. This sort of task was Spinni’s strong suit. She leafed through folders of patents in a matter of minutes, comparing any image within to the sketch she had.

Her companion, while not slow in the slightest, struggled to keep up with the golden mouse. She was more used to looking through articles at a leisurely pace.

“Wow,” she whispered, knowing to be quiet in the building. “When did you learn to skim so fast?”

“It's something I had to pick up,” Spinni responded in a hushed tone, “it's a highly valuable skill for my job.”

“You mean?”

“Indexing. I'm an indexer for Central Dreamland,” Spinni said, with a touch of a bite in her tone. “We don't talk about dealings with certain individuals while we're in the library.”

“Oh.” Garlude said quietly. “Can I at least ask how you got to know those certain individuals?”

“You're pretty nosy, Ms. debutant,” Spinni replied. The sole female member of the Squeak Squad was not one for talking too much when doing her research, and was making that fact very clear.

“I like to know how friendships start out.”

Spinni looked up from the folder she was skimming through. “Are you looking for a sappy novella-type story where we become buddy-buddy? I ain't one to give that sorta tripe. All you need to know is that people with good ears have a tendency to team up with each other.”

Spinni continued talking, but had already gone back to leafing through the patents.

“That goes for all my friends. You already know the baker: he's got the best ears out of all of us, and used ‘em to get outta dodge. The inventor’s got an ear for machinery: his whole business is what allows us to have such a nice meeting spot. And his nephew? Definitely got good ears for reading emotions, and is good at playing the wildcard whenever one is needed.”

Garlude said nothing, but took a look at the sketch Spinni had given her. “Hmm, I wonder what this is…”

“It's a dragon. A dragon is a dragon.”

“There's all different kinds of dragons: wyrms, wyverns, drakes…”

“What are you getting at?” Spinni said as she adjusted her reading glasses.

“I can already tell that you're way better at looking through articles than I am, but as it stands we're kind of in the dark about what we're trying to search. I think that it might be beneficial if I figure out what kind of dragon it might depict. It could narrow our search significantly.”

Spinni hummed a bit as she thought about it. “Sure,” she said, as she put another folder down. “Whatever you think makes you useful. I'll be here if ya need me.”

Garlude nodded at the mouse before leaving the article wing.

 It took a while for the lady to get proper reference material, but soon enough she found a book called Dragons Around the World and in the Stars.

Sitting down at one of the reading tables, Garlude leafed through the pages of the book. It was a very well-illustrated book, so it was the perfect reference for her quest.

She was studying each picture with great intent, comparing it to her sketch. She was looking for specific traits that matched the marking found on the vial. The dragon depicted appeared to have horns, a mane, a beak and wings. Not only that: it was clearly depicted as wearing a crown of some sort.

Soon enough, she had narrowed her search down to one specific dragon: the Landia, a four-headed dragon whose tale originates in the far off land of Halcandra. It had every detail of the dragon sketch, down to even the crown. Its folklore further cemented its connection to the vial, as it was described as many beasts combined into one for the greater good of the land.

“Just like how Meta has been combined with many beasts to create one creature,” Garlude thought as she quickly jotted down key notes to bring to Spinni.

Once that was all done, she returned the book then ran back to the article section of the library. Spinni was still there, now way farther into the shelves of articles.

“Did ya find our dragon?” The yellow mouse asked as her associate came up to her.

“Indeed I did! Look for anything with ‘Landia’ in it: that guy pretty much is a dead ringer for not only our dragon but also why Meta is a gryph-gaw!”

Spinni hesitated for a moment, but then rushed to an alphabetized portion of the wing. She leafed through a drawer labeled “LAN”, before pulling out a folder.

Sure enough, one of the first things that popped out was a logo for a locksmith group known as the “Landia Protectors Incorporated”. While it wasn't the exact logo that they were looking for, it was awfully similar. There were many more articles like it within that folder.

“Well well well,” Spinni said, with a small grin on her face, “looks like your hunch was right after all.”

“I love this sort of studying. It's what I do in my free time,” Garlude responded confidently.

“Well, I hope you're ready for even more studying, now that we've got a clearer bearing on what we're looking at.”

“Of course!”

And with that, the two women pressed further into the search for the group who bore the insignia of Landia…

Chapter Text

Work was going slowly for Daroach and Jecra. The Medical Progress pavilion, while nowhere near as large as any of the robotics venues, was still a sprawling attraction.

What made it worse was that many of the medicine peddlers had a penchant for holding those passing by as a sort of captive audience, in an attempt to get them to buy their wares. The inspector and baker were especially prone to these sorts of social attacks, given they actively were coming up to these salespeople and asking questions. Already, the duo had been caught up in these lengthy sales pitches several times, and it was starting to get rather tiring.

Unfortunately for them, they were going to be wrapped up in yet another sales pitch.

A small, round creature robed in blue garbs and dragging around a large briefcase bounded up to Jecra and Daroach. “Hail fellows!” He cried out, waving at the two. “I've seen you talking to many of the folks about medicine. It appears that none of them have been able to help you out. Let ol’ Magolor be the one to change that!”

Magolor then opened up his briefcase, revealing all sorts of bottles, bags and tubes of various substances. “I've got just about anything to cure what ails ya! So, what seems to be the problem? Ear ache? Creaky joints?”

Daroach was the one to speak up. “We've got a bit of a dragon issue, actually,” he said cooly and calmly, raising his own sketch of the icon on the vial. “Would any of your medicines be related to this?”

The duo were prepared to be met with what usually went down: the salesperson would say no and then spend fifteen minutes trying to sell them some ointment for a condition none of them had. With Magolor, however, the reaction was quite different.

“Hmm…” The blue robed medicine salesman leaned close into the sketch, in thought. “What sorta problem are you having with Landia, pray tell?”

“Landia!” Jecra exclaimed. “So that's what the company is. We have a friend who got sick from taking some weird medication, and all we got to go off of is the logo of the company who makes it. Since you've got some knowledge about Landia, maybe you'd know what's going on and how to fix him.”

“Well, I'm not aware of any companies that go by Landia, but Landia is an important figure in the folklore of my homeland. Come, sit with me.” Magolor led the gentlemen off to a quiet corner of the pavilion, then continued, placing his hands on his briefcase. “Landia is quite an interesting figure to use for medicine. I don't quite get the connection.”

“How so?” Daroach asked.

“Well, Landia is more known as a guardian creature. It's said to be four creatures acting as one to protect artifacts from getting into the wrong hands. While I could definitely see Landia being used as a mascot for safes or locks, I don't understand why it would be related to medicine…maybe your friend didn't take medicine, after all?”

This revelation gave Daroach and Jecra pause. While they had been general in their description of what this company dealt with, Magolor was able to deduce that it wasn't medicine-based at all. The description of Landia being four creatures acting as one also somewhat matched up with what had happened to Sir Meta.

“What might it be?” Daroach asked the salesman.

“Your friend likely got swindled by some phony salesman who stole some sort of science experiment from a chemist, I bet. You’ve gotta be careful who you get medical advice from: too many dishonest folks running around with masks on their faces spewing, um-dishonesty, about anything and everything! You can trust ol’ Magolor, though, in case you have any ailments! Barring unknown chemistry experiments. I wish your friend luck.”

“Well, Magolor,” Daroach said as he got up once again, “I think you've helped us well enough. I wish you well on your endeavors!”

“And you too!” Magolor exclaimed as the two set out to leave him. He sat a bit in thought, then all of a sudden called out: “Wait! I've got something else to say!”

Jecra heard the salesman clear, and turned around to go talk to him. On the other hand, Daroach was already farther into the crowded areas of the pavilion, and thus couldn't hear Magolor’s calls over the chatter of everyone else.

He could, however, hear someone else's voice.

“Hey hey hey, Mr. Bright!”

To Daroach, this exclamation was odd. There was no “Mr. Bright” that Daroach knew of. It appeared to be directed at him, though.

“Mr. Bright! Over here!”

“Excuse me?” Daroach said.

A purple figure wearing a jester's outfit and an odd sun and moon mask popped out right in front of Daroach, blocking his path.

“Heya, Mr. Bright!” He greeted, with great cheer in his voice.

“It's Daroach. And who might you be?”

“I'm your new buddy, Marx! I'm a wandering entertainer traveling far and wide, gathering the stories of interesting folks and sharing to all who wish to hear.”

“Well, I'm neither an interesting man, nor really wish to listen to stories right now,” Daroach said, trying to politely move past the jester. Unfortunately for him, Marx managed to match his every move.

“Oh really? I think everyone has something interesting going on in their lives.”

“What sort of interesting life does a baker have?”

Marx hummed a little, posing his bow tie as if it were a hand to his chin. “Probably nothing,” he answered, dropping his tone to a whisper, “but you're not exactly a baker: are you, Red Ghost?”

Daroach’s eyes grew wide. Just where did this stranger learn that name for him?

As if in answering the thoughts racing through Daroach’s head, Marx continued: “I've got good inclinations for things like this: come, let's go to a more quiet place.”

In a moment, Daroach found himself being guided out of the crowd by the masked man. When they were in an isolated corner of the pavilion, Marx spoke again.

“Don't worry, Mr. Bright. Your secret identity is safe with me: truth be told, my name actually isn't Marx, either. What it really is doesn't matter to you, however.”

“But where did you hear that name?” Daroach said with more than a hint of severity in his voice.

“I've got good inclinations, don't you know? I know what to look for in a person, and know what their deepest, most innermost secrets are… I also managed to overhear that inspector guy your buddies with muttering about having to work with you!”

“Inspector?” Daroach gasped. “How do you-”

“I heard him talking about possibly getting you arrested soon, just to get his job over with. Something about you leading him on a wild goose chase to distract him while you go and steal something valuable from the fair.”

Daroach couldn't believe what Marx was saying. Out of anyone in Diamond Town, he trusted Jecra to be willing and able to help him with such an unusual mission as this.

“Don't worry, though: I think you're an underdog hero, and you're going to complete your heroic mission! Just…be wary about that inspector. He might come up with an excuse to arrest you on the spot. Ya catch me? Ya won't! Hohoho!”

With that, Daroach was alone again. His mind was racing with what just happened. Truth be told, the fact that the jester knew so much about his mission rattled the usually unrattleable thief.

He was so on edge that he practically jumped when he heard multiple voices call out to him.

“Daroach? Where are you?”

“Dorocche?”

Regaining his composure, Daroach slipped back into the crowd, finding Inspector Jecra once again, this time being trailed by both Magolor and Doc (who had fixed his contraption and rejoined Jecra).

“I must've gotten distracted by something. I didn't realize I lost you.” Daroach said, masking the last bits of anxiety he had.

Jecra narrowed his eyes on his companion. He had his suspicions, but wasn't going to air them out just yet. He'd give the mouse the benefit of the doubt for now.

“Well, I haven't really been looking long, but you missed some important information. Magolor told me that he was interested in doing a house call to our friend.”

“How so?”

This time, Magolor chimed in. “Well, I got to thinking about that symbol a bit. It reminded me of something I saw on a letter that a former assistant of mine got. It was a while back, and my assistant was adamant that I didn't look at the content of the letter, but by her enthusiasm it looked like she got a great opportunity to work with some sort of esteemed scientist-something about some miracle cure or like it. I told her it was fishy, but she was adamant on going through with it. I haven't heard from her since, even though she assured me she'd be able to write back to me.”

“You're just going to let a stranger into our house?!” Daroach snapped.

“Dorocche, didn't you just let strangers into my house the other day?” Doc replied, leaning his machine towards the younger mouse. “Plus, from what I've heard from Jecra, this fellow is the closest thing to a lead you guys have found. Why don't you humor the salesman for just a moment? I've already given the go-ahead.”

“Alright then. We'll let him take the house call.”

The group started making their way out of the fair then. Jecra and Daroach were sneaking looks at each other, watching their opponent's every move.

That's exactly how the jester who was trailing behind them wanted it. His plan was going swimmingly. Both the sun and the moon were primed. Just a little push, and they'd be set to fighting.

For now, he'd wait to give them that push.

Chapter Text

Meta was restless.

It was the start of the evening, but the gryph-gaw was more energized than ever. What the cause was for his sudden boost in alertness, he had no idea. 

It made him all the more focused on his stair practice: he now could practically fly down the stairs with the same grace as he could bipedally as a Puffal. But now that he had a good grip on this aspect of life, he was growing bored of it.

He still wanted to move, however. For whatever reason, his heart pounded within his chest. He needed to get this sudden increase of energy out. But how? Storo was still watching over him, and was doing his best to keep him occupied. However, due to the rather tight floor plan of the Squeak’s hideout, Storo made it a rule that they couldn't move too fast in the building.

Being the fine gentleman he was, Meta was more than willing to follow the house rules. The now-growing restless animal within him was less willing, though. Meta was struggling with this inner conflict, and was fit to explode with one little trigger.

Tep. Tep. Tep.

“That noise.” Meta started growling, low and deep. That “Tep Tep Tepping” noise was absolutely getting on his nerves. Maybe getting down to the bottom of that tapping noise would make his heart calm down.

He got his chance soon enough when Storo walked off to start working on supper. He trotted up to the stairwell where the tapping was occurring, and with a couple of wing beats he made his way up to the windowsill.

It was then that Meta saw who exactly was tapping on the window. It was one of those purple birds. Standing on the outside edge of the window, it pecked at the glass pane, as if it were knocking to be let in.

Surprisingly, the bird didn't fly off when Meta landed on the inside alcove of the window. It just stared back at him through the feathers that obscured its eyes. 

“Clawk-clawk!” It chirped, as if in greeting. Meta just growled back at the avian nuisance. 

Instead of flying away, the bird decided to call out again, this time louder and shriller. A moment after, another purple bird joined the first bird.

“Just what is going on with these birds?” Meta thought to himself. “This is too creepy.”

He then started hearing more tapping on another window, this time upstairs. It was way more frequent this time, as if multiple birds were there. It was making Meta’s already racing heart beat even faster.

“I've got to put a stop to this!” 

With a flying start, Meta raced to the room where the tapping was coming from. Sure enough, five of the purple birds were frantically pecking the window.

Meta first attempted to scare off the birds by doing a low, relatively quiet bark. 

“Gaw!”

The birds did initially stop pecking, but then just as quickly restarted, now joined by the initial two birds. Meta went up to the window and placed his paws on the glass, hoping to scare off the birds with his claws. Still no reaction from the birds.

He ramped up his threats by clawing at the window. While Meta wouldn't dare do such a thing normally, it was aggravating him so much that he felt it was necessary to stop the incessant noise.

He wasn't paying attention to where he was placing his paws as he scratched at the window. After a few moments, he caught one of the handles of the windows with his claws and, with a sudden force, swung the window right open!

Initially, this shocked the aristocrat. As soon as he recovered, however, he got another plan. He would go outside to give these birds a piece of his mind.

Meta made several assumptions as to why it would be safe for him to get out. For one, It was getting dark; Meta figured that so long as he stayed out of the light, he'd be fairly safe from the view of any onlookers. And he'd only be out for a couple moments, anyways, to chase the birds off. 

That was another reason: to chase off the birds. If these birds were obnoxious right now, imagine how bad they would be at night!

Another reason to go out was to burn off excess energy. Otherwise, he might set out to tear the house to shreds!

His mind was set. He leapt right out of the window and took flight, causing the flock of purple birds to scatter.

It was all quite exhilarating to Meta. This was exactly what he needed to burn off his excess energy! With a couple of flaps, he flew to the top of a nearby building.

With it being near sundown, some of the lights of the city were becoming more apparent. Most notably, the lights of the inventor's fair were being lit up.

Meta didn't need to think very long on it. He needed to go see the fair. He'd have a bird's (or pteran’s) eye view of the spectacle! And it would only be a couple extra minutes.

He took flight once again, towards the fair. Unbeknownst to him, he was tailed by several of the purple birds. Perhaps his frustrations with them weren't over yet…

Chapter Text

Spinni and Garlude were taking the trolley down to where the Squeak’s hideout was. They had finished up their part of their research, and each had a folder in hand, full of notes from the companies they found.

Even though it was getting relatively dark out, both the streets and the trolley were still bright, being lit up by the many street lights. Even though Lady Garlude was a resident of a place known by some as the “Town of Light,” the lights of the city were still quite a marvel for her. She almost looked like a little girl peering into a candy store as she looked at the fanciful lights passing by the trolley.

Spinni, having lived in Tiramisu City for her entire life and therefore seen the city's progress firsthand, was less impressed by the spectacle. She was impressed by something else.

“I might be speaking a bit outta left field here,” Spinni spoke, turning to your companion, “but you ain't half bad for an aristocrat. I thought all you guys did was lounge around and do nothin’.”

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” Garlude responded, not taking her gaze off of the lights but raising an eyebrow.

“I've just seen and heard about how once you get a certain amount of money, ya just kinda up and do nothing with your life. Ya get lazy and be a layabout. I wouldn't have thought you'd not only be able to somewhat keep up with me, but have the forethought to go and look up things like what kind of dragon we're looking for!”

Garlude scoffed a little at this. “Everyone has to do something with their lives! I can't imagine just sitting around doing nothing: I'd go stir crazy if I had to. I know Sir Meta to be the same: I hope he's doing well back at your home.”

“He's fine!” Spinni confidently assured, leaning back into her seat. “I'm sure he just slept all day: that's what dogs do when they're not being terrors to the public.”

“You know he's not a dog!” Garlude rebuked. She caught herself before she went any further for fear of revealing anything about the gryph-gaw that they were hiding.

“In any case,” she continued, in a quieter tone, “I'm sure he's wanted to at least stretch his arms after being held captive for so long: I'm sure you'd feel the same way if you had to live through that.”

“If he's got a good head on his shoulders he'd make sure to keep it on the down-low. And if he doesn't, Storo’s there to make sure he stays put.”

The two could feel the trolley come to a halt right where the corridors leading to the Squeak’s house started.

“And there's our stop!” Spinni announced as she leapt out of her seat. “Hopefully the boys beat us back to the house so we can help your friend with his dog problem as soon as possible.”

Garlude said nothing as she got out of her seat, joining Spinni in getting off the trolley. The two started to walk down the corridor when they heard a familiar figure calling out.

“Meta! Meta!”

“Storo?” Spinni questioned, speeding up towards the voice. Garlude had to pick up her skirt to keep up with the golden mouse as she ran towards her companion. In a moment, the two had caught up to Storo, who was looking more than a bit flustered.

“What's going on with Meta?” Garlude asked the larger mouse.

“He got out!” Storo exclaimed.

“What do you mean, got out?” Spinni said.

“He somehow opened a window and got out while I was busy.”

“What? Shouldn't he know what could happen if he's caught? You did let him know, right?”

“I showed him the newspaper and everything!” Storo stammered. “He was fine for most of the day but decided to up and fly out not too long ago.”

“Wait wait wait a minute.” Spinni said with a start, realizing what the blue mouse said. “Fly? Like a bird?!”

“Yup,” was the reply. “Didn't ya know he was a winged dog, like the ones on the good chocolates?”

“Of course the dog has to fly…” Spinni put her hands to her head. “Well, we've gotta go catch up with him in any case; any chance you might know where he flew off to?”

Garlude knew exactly where their wayward friend would've gone. “The fair! Meta is a fan of the inventor’s fair and would tell me all about it when he'd go to it. I'm sure with it all lit up he'd be drawn to it like a moth to a flame!”

“Well then, I guess we've gotta go by the fair. Before we go, did you happen to see Daroach or the others?”

“Nope, Spinni. I've only been at this for a couple minutes. I did leave a note though, in case I didn't see any of you.”

“That's good, we can leave post haste!” Garlude said.

With that, the three turned their sights on the bright lights of the inventors fair. All they could do now was move fast and hope their friend doesn't get into any trouble…

Chapter Text

They should have been out by now. They had the only lead they could muster over the day. It should have been easy to get out of the fair now that they got him.

Unfortunately, they managed to choose the worst day to visit the inventor's fair if they wanted to slip in and out quickly. 

Daroach, Jecra, Doc and Magolor struggled to get anywhere due to the ever increasing crowds that seemed to come from everywhere. Apparently, there was some event going on in the evening that was drawing in an unusual amount of people.

“Just what is going on with these crowds?” Jecra exclaimed in exasperation.

“Oh, you didn't know the theme of the day?” Magolor cheerily chimed in. “It's flight and light! Haltmann Works is showing off a special personal flying device prototype on sundown. I thought you knew that coming in!”

“Well I didn't!” Jecra yelled back at the blue-clad salesman.

“Now, let's try to keep a cool head, Inspector.” Daroach scolded Jecra, in a tone that wasn't exactly calm.

“Hey! You said you've gone to these sorts of events before! You should've known something like this would happen!”

“As it turns out, I haven't. I've been busy with helping you with your wedding that I haven't been able to-”

“Are you using my wedding as a distractor?”

By now, Jecra’s and Daroach’s bickering had gotten more vocal than before, and it was gathering some attention. People within the crowd had started to look towards them in a mix of curiosity and irritation.

Doc, seeing how the argument was heating up, decided to intervene. “Daroach! Jecra!” He said assertively, “Get ahold of yourselves. Don't you realize that you're supposed to be helping Meta?”

“Meta Scmeta!” Jecra spat. “I'm still not entirely convinced that he's the reason we're here. I'm pretty sure you're using him as an excuse to be here to-to-”

“Steal something?” Daroach finished the irate inspector's sentence. “Are you seriously accusing me of that?! I've already said that you can arrest me when all this is said and done: why are you going after me now?”

“Oh-ho-ho!” Jecra laughed bitterly. “That's what you want me to think! But don't think I've forgotten who you are since I've started working with you: you're the Crimson Phantom!”

“Crimson Phantom?” Magolor questioned himself. “Now where have I heard that before…”

Before anyone could do anything, a bolt of light came from Daroach’s direction. A loud sound and a bright flash of light emitted straight from where the bolt landed!

Immediately, the crowd erupted into chaos. People were running around, trying to either get away or to investigate the source of the explosion.

Jecra, in his mind, already knew who caused the explosion. “So! You were planning something! You couldn't keep the wool over my eyes for long enough!”

“Wait-what?!” Daroach gasped. “You think I planned this? I barely even know what's going on right now! And you think I could set up a whole heist under your watch?”

“Well, you've slipped from my watch multiple times! But no more!” With that, Jecra changed his robotic arm from his normal hand to a sort of electric device, crackling with sheer energy.

“Are we really doing this?!” Daroach shouted, putting both hands on the Triple Star.

“To do otherwise would be shirking my duty as an officer of the law!”

“Serves me right to entrust you to one of my missions,” Daroach sneered. 

Daroach then hastily addressed Doc. “Take the doctor through the town! I may or may not catch up with you. Regardless, helping Meta is your highest priority!”

Doc nodded, and then took Magolor by his hood away from the commotion, leaving the two former companions to clash. And clash they did.

Unbeknownst to them, this is exactly what the maestro of this whole ordeal wanted.

“Ho-ho-ha! My plan worked!” The maestro thought, watching the two squaring up to fight from a distance. “The sun and moon shall fight in the square, and I shall take my well-earned prize as they do so!”

He then bounded, with an unusual ease, through the chaos of the crowd. Right towards the now-unguarded flying apparatus. His flying apparatus.