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Fallout

Merlyn crouched on the floor beside Blue's bed and tugged at the blanket-covered lump that was his brother. "Blue? Blue, wake up," he whispered.

The Tall Tale turned over. "I'm sleeping," he said.

"Blue, I had a bad dream."

"Go get Dad, then, maybe it's a wilder. Teratus can make it go away. Or the new one."

"Nuh uh. I don't wanna. Dad's having blood dreams too and he's so sad it hurts and Shai's all full of worried and I don't wanna go in there."

Blue peered at his brother for a moment, then scooted over, leaving space in the bed so that Merlyn could climb in. The kitten did so, cuddling his little rubber dragon tightly against his side for comfort.

"What happened?" Blue whispered.

"When the new one came, Dad was suddenly all full of so much sad he couldn't hold it all, and it hurts. I don't like the new one." Merlyn huddled under the covers, ears flattened.

Blue curled against his brother's side. "How can you tell?"

"I can hear it." Merlyn blinked at Blue, confused. "Can't you?"

The Tale shook his head. "You can't see my ghosts, though," he pointed out, reasonably enough.

Merlyn nodded and put his head down on the pillow, silent.

"If you kick me I'm gonna kick back," Blue warned, and pulled the covers up to go back to sleep.

Zen milled around the shop peacably. Quiet was nice, though it didn' t pay the bills, and the soft tinkle of the bells as a breeze passed them made it altogether pleasant. The incense wafted a very soft herbal fragrance today, mixed with the heady scent of brewing tea. She hung a few lanterns up for display, lighting them to add additional warm glow to the shop.

"Don't worry, Ambyr. See, I have it right here." The bell tinkled as Blue pushed the shop door open. "I wasn't going to drop it, I've been saving it, see?"

The gold and blue Zurui following the canine boy didn't look entirely convinced, but she nodded her assent and sat down by the door. From here, she could watch her young charge, be out of the way of anyone shopping, and not make trouble, in case this was a no-pets sort of shop.

Blue put the coin purse containing his allowance back in his pocket for the moment, and padded tentatively further into the shop.

A soft chime told Zen of the presence of others. The curiously tall woman smiled at the two that entered, crooking a long, thin finger to indicate that the Zurui to come on in if she wanted. Though her features were far from kindly, the harder angles softened at Blue as she gave a shallow bow. "Good day, young sir. Is there anything I can help you find, or would you like to browse?"

She leaned back against the counter, relaxed.

Ambyr's ears perked up slightly; she nodded to the tall woman courteously and moved silently out towards the garden area, preferring to sit among greenery. It was kind of the shopkeep to allow her in.

"I'm looking for a windchime, ma'am," Blue answered Zen, ducking his head shyly. "Can you show me where they are?"

"You may simply call me Zen, " she replied, that serene smile still on her face. "The windchimes are kept over here." A fluid gesture indicated blue should follow as she moved to an alcove near the garden entrance. "I keep them here so people may hear how they sound when the wind blow."

In this alcove that opened as an aside to the garden there were spaced rows of wires, and multiple chimes hanging on each strand. Each had enough room to move and chime of its own accord. Without hesitation, she reached behind a shelf and retrieved a stepstool, setting it down so Blue can climb up between them all for a better look. "Please feel free to ring them so you know how they sound." Again, that strangely serene smile. "Bells sound different to each person - find one that calls to you."

Blue followed the tailed woman, looking up to the wires where the rows of chimes hung, swaying slightly in the breeze. "Thank you, Ms. Zen," he said, and climbed carefully up onto the stepstool so that he could reach the chimes. There was a silver dragon chime the rang a pure, clear, high note when he touched the chimes, and a row of colorful fish chimes, and a delicate moon chime that he liked very much. "Can I get that one?" he asked, pointing to the moon and stars chime.

Then a flash of red caught his eye as a soft breeze ruffled the chimes again, and he turned a little to look. There was a bell hanging there, tied with red cord, polished and pretty. The bell of the dead, he thought, and then forgot that he had thought it. It was pretty, and when he touched it, it made a clear, appealing low note. "This one, too, please."

"Of course." From seemingly nowhere, Zen produced a soft cloth bag in which she wrapped the chime carefully as Blue watched. And again, as he selected the bell, it was plucked delicately from its string and wrapped in another cloth bag. Each bag was a different color, made of a delicate but sturdy embroidered oriental fabric which cushioned the chimes from banging against one another.

"Anything else?" The statement was far from a brush off - the lithe woman seemed perfectly content to show him around all day if there were other things he wished to see. Even if he just wanted to play around the shop for awhile, the general feeling was that he'd be most welcome to do so.

"How much are the wind chimes?" Blue asked, a little sheepishly. He had enough allowance saved up to get two things, he thought. Maybe three, if they weren't expensive. It wouldn't be polite to get to paying, and then find out that he couldn't get it all.

Here, Zen's eyes sparkled - just a bit. It had always been a challenge fo rthe hard yellow cat's eyes to seem soft or kind. She tapped a finger to the side of her nose, pretending to think. "They're 175 each - but you happened to come by while they're on sale." Of course, Zen never actually did sales, but she did tend to discount for customers that she liked - and this little fellow, for his size and apparent age, had been absolutely angelic. Unlike many, _many_ o fthe small children that came through and broke things, tangled strings, adn left Zen with a migraine and an anger management problem.

Yes, she liked this boy. "They're only 125 apiece today. You have most excellent timing, young Sir."

"Oh! Thank you! I guess I'm lucky." Blue smiled delightedly at Zen. "I have 400. I saved up," he added, clearly proud of himself. "Is there anything else I could put in the window for when the wind blows?" He glanced around, out towards the garden area, and spotted a brightly colored fish windsock, swaying softly in the breeze - but if it was outside, in the steady warm wind from the Dry Plains, he thought, it would lift and fly nicely. "Like that one?"

She nodded in return, smiling. "Ah, you have done most well in your saving, " Zen agreed, then turned her attention to the windsocks. "Ah, yes, the windsocks are some of my favorites - when the wind starts blowing harder, they look as if they're swimming in midair. On other, calmer days, they flutter."

One long finger tapped her lips as she peered down at Blue. "And, there's a secret to them as well. Come." Zen led the way over next to one of the fluttering fish and knelt, pulling its stick from the ground. "If you put this stick in here, as so -" Moving with deliberate care, she snapped the post into the fish's interior, spreading its fins out sideways. Then, as if again from nowhere, she pulled out a length of string from the sock's interior. "You can use them as a kite." She held up the windsock, waited till the wind tugged, and let it flutter, carried up by the wind.

The cat eyes sparkled again. "It doesn't make the sound that the windchimes do, but I like to think it's fun to watch the fish swim through the air." Zen held out the string to Blue. "Want to try?"

Blue watched intently as Zen transformed the windsock into a kite, smling delightedly. He took the string, cautious, feeling the tug of the wind on the string as the fish flew. He laughed, and offered, "It's like fishing in the air."

Her smile managed to crease the corners of her eyes this time. Blue's enjoyment pleased her greatly - it was indeed a high compliment. "Indeed it is. While the fish in the water wishes to swim away, the fish in the air always wants to go higher. " She glanced down at the boy, resting back on her heels. "I think it must be terribly fun to be a kite, don't you?"

Carefully, gently, she leaned over and hooked a finger on the string, pulling a couple times to make the fish bounce and dance in the air.

"It's dancing!" Blue laughed, and tried tugging on the string to make the fish flutter in the air, watching as it swooped obediently on its string, though not without a touch of the wistful in his expression.

After a moment, he recalled where he was, and began carefully reeling the string in. "I'd like to buy it, too," he said solemnly. "How much is it?" He'd have - he added carefully in his head - 125 and 125 made 250, and 400 minus 250 made 150, so if the kite wasn't more expensive than that, he could buy it also.

Nodding again, and without batting an eyelash at her quick 'adjusting', Zen replied, "The two chimes plus the fish will be 300 total. That should give you enough to start saving again, eh?" She cocked a brow at him, with an almost parental - but jovial - air.

As he reeled the kite in, she retrieved yet another bag - this one long, skinny, with a drawstring at the top. "This bag can be used to store the fish if ever you need to take it down. Would you like to take him home fluttering beside you, or would you like me to roll him up in the bag?"

He did have enough! Blue checked quickly behind him to make sure he wasn't too near anything breakable before he let his tail wag. "I'd like to put him in the bag for now," he answered after a moment's thought. "I don't want to get him caught on anything on the way home."

"Very well. In case you ever want to put him away - if the weather gets too stormy, or the like, here's how you roll him up." Again, with painstakingly deliberate adn slow movements, Zen demonstrated how to roll the fish around the stake, carefully folding with the seams of the fabric. "Would you like to try it yourself? That way if you have any questions, we can sort them out together."

Blue nodded, and copied what Zen had done, folding the fabric neatly around its stake. "Like that?" He'd been somewhat nervous about going to the store all by himself, even if Ambyr was with him, but he'd entirely gotten over it now. Zen was awfully nice, and very patient with him. He'd save up his allowance for another few weeks and come back, he thought.

"Exactly. You are a fast learner, indeed, and very clever." Zen smiled again as she held the bag open so Blue could slide the folded fish inside. "You should come again sometime and I will show you how these are made. I'm certain you could probably even make a whole one by yourself, as sharp as you are." Plucking the bags from her lap, she stood and stretched her limber legs.

"I'd like to try," Blue nodded, and dug his coin purse out of his pocket. "I'll definitely come back. Your shop is very nice."

Ambyr rose from the quiet spot where she'd been listening to the trickle of the fountains and padded back to Blue's side.

"Thank you. You are most welcome back whenever you please. As is your friend." She bowed slightly to Ambyr and held out the hand with the carefully wrapped windchimes.

Blue counted out gold into Zen's hand and took the carefully wrapped packages. "Thank you very much, Ms. Zen," he smiled, before making his way out of the shop.

Pleased, Ambyr extended one paw and bowed over it in return, then followed Blue out. It was a pleasant and flattering change to be welcomed as a sentient guest, even if she didn't speak. She approved.

Blue padded hesitantly up the front walk, hand folded in Lapis's. He hadn't been to this house before, but Lapis had been going, and he had said that there was a new Tale here, and so Blue had asked permission to go and see, and say hello. Some of his nerve was failing him now, but it helped to have the coment serpent's reassuring presence there. Had he been by himself, or just with Ambyr, he might have talked himself out of it.

As it was, he stepped up and rang the doorbell.

Chieko heard the door, but she was in the middle of baking so many things, like brownies, cookies, fudge, muffins, mini pies... you name it, it was there. She had intended on having a bake sale, since bunny sales had dropped, and without lettece, she was afraid her lawn would dissapear. "V-Victor! I think that's for you! Please answer the door!"

The pale young man got up from the couch, closeing the book he was reading,a finger tucked between the pages to keep his place, and went to the door. For him? That was odd, he didn't know anyone. He opened the door, and blinked, longish black hair loose and down, tunic like shirt untucked. Wow, the people in front of him were... blue.... but, they looked happy at least! He smiled, shyly, and nodded to both of them. "Hello, greetings. May I be of some service?" He spoke with a soft, yet clear voice, which was laden with an understandable english accent.

"Hi," Blue said softly. "Are you Victor? I came to say hi." He fidgeted a little, tail tucked, and tried a smile.

"May we come in?" Lapis asked solemnly.

"Oh, well, hello." Victor replied, before he blinked way up at Lapis, and nodded a little bit. That one looked blue, and sounded blue, and he took a few steps back from the door to let them in "Is Miss Chieko expecting you?" He asked, softly, tilting his head to the side

"No, but I think I will not be too unwelcome," Lapis answered, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. He padded inside.

Blue rather wished he had his plushie. Lapis was being weird, and the new Tale was bigger than he was. He hadn't expected that. "I'm Blue," he offered, following Lapis in. "I'm a Tale. Um. I bet you knew that."

There was a happy squeal of surprise from the kitchen, and the sound of a metal bowl hitting the floor, before laughing.

Victor rubbed the back of his hand at the noise, and looked back to Blue, looking surprised "....A tale? Really? Like me? I didn't know that." He smiled at Blue, and made a motion to the living room "Please come in. It's very nice to meet you."

"Uh huh. Lapis said that Ms. Chieko was an Author now, so I wanted to come and meet you," Blue nodded, and followed Victor into the living room, looking around with some curiosity.

"I see, I see. I'm glad you did.... She had said there were many Tales, but... I hadn't met any yet. I thought maybe I smelled..." He joked, hesitantly. He slid a hand through his hair, before he looked around the room "....So... Blue... what do you like to do?"

"You only smell like soap, not bad or anything," Blue said, straightforward. "Sometimes you can meet people at the store, and I met one girl at the park." He poked a toe at the carpet, a little at a loss. "I like to read, and sometimes I paint," he said. "Um. What about you?"

"At the store? The stationary store?" He asked, looking surprised again, before he smiled, widely. "I love to paint and read.... Chieko has an art room here. Do you want to go paint?" He asked, starting to relax a little. The boy was friendly, and he was pleased.

"Uh huh. I met a couple of people that way." Blue smiled back. "That would be neat. Can I see some of your paintings too?"

"Alright, yes, that would be nice." He said, nodding, before he turned, putting the book down on a side table, before he headed down the long hallway, and into a door. It was a room with one wall all windows, looking out over the property, and a few canvas' set up, as well as a clay wheel, and a few tables.

"Oh, this is a nice studio." Blue moved around the room, looking at everything but politely not touching yet. "Do you make pots, or does your mom do that?" He wandered between the canvases, looking with interest at the scenes painted on them.

"My... Mom?" He blinked a little, confused at the term. Was Chieko his mom? She had never asked him to call her that. He wasn't even sure it felt right to call her that, and he looked at blue "...Is that blue man your father?" He asked, before he moved to pull some paints from a shelf .

Blue perched himself on a stool, tucking one foot up under himself. "Nuh uh, that's just Lapis. He lives with us and he helps take care of me and my brothers."

"Who's your dad then?" He asked, walking over with a set of painting supplies for both himself and Blue, offering him a set, before he went to pull a Canvas closer to sit next to him

"His name's Prolixity," Blue said, and set out the brushes and paints Victor offered him in a careful row. "He has a shop in town, and he travels to other worlds sometimes." He remembered not to bite the end of the paintbrush in time. It wasn't his, so he shouldn't chew on it. "Is it okay to use a canvas?" he asked. "I could paint on paper."

"It's alright, I don't see why Chieko would mind if we used canvas. What's your dad like?" He asked, before starting to outline a drawing with pencil. Chieko said that planning out a drawing helped with painting, so he always did so.

Blue dabbed his brush hesitantly at the canvas. Well ... Victor would know if it was okay, he supposed. "He's tall, and he reads a lot, and he tells really bad jokes, and when he really gets mad he's scary. But that doesn't happen a lot." He swung his foot and began to outline a figure in grey paint. "Is it nice living here?"

"He sounds like a nice dad." He said, absently. He had noticed a seemingly distinct lack of fatherly figures in this house, and he glanced at blue, his pencil still working "Chieko is nice... though very busy... she's tries very hard though..."

"I don't have a mom," Blue said absently. "What's it like?" He squinted at the canvas and painted a careful line. The figure he was making was somewhat clumsy, but starting to be recognizable as a humaniod shape.

"You don't have a mom? And I don't have a Dad...." He looked thoughtful, suddenly, before he offered blue a smile "....Hey, if we get along together, perhaps Chieko could become your mom, and Prolixity my dad?" He suggested, completely unaware of how such things work.

"I don't think that would work," Blue said doubtfully, and forgot not to chew on the end of his brush. "They'd have to get married for that, and Dad is gonna marry Papa this spring." He concentrated on forming the figure's face. "Noses are hard to paint," he said.

"Really? You have two dads then? Wow, lucky!" He said, before he smiled at Blue, then leaned over to look at his painting "...I just make them triangles. That's nice and easy. Well... almost triangles..." He said, before he started to pull out his own paints, useing a lot of blue. He then blinked a little "......Can you really have two dads?"

"Uh huh. Papa moved in a little after Dad brought me home," Blue said. He frowned at his painting and tried reshaping the nose. Maybe if it was less pointy ... "Well, it's not like I was born, like Merlyn was," he pointed out. "You don't have to be related to be a mom or dad."

"You don't?" He blinked, looking surprised at that, before he started to paint more, his head tilting to the side at his own painting. He wasn't about to say anything about it, since it was going ot be a surprise. "...So... Chieko could be my mom? ....And anyone she wants could be my dad?" He wasn't sure he liked that idea.

"Uh huh ... " Blue squinted at his painting again, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth. Something still looked off about the nose, but that was good enough. Belatedly, it got through that Victor had sounded sort of dismayed. "Is that bad?"

"Well.... what if she picks a real nasty bloke?" He asked, looking a little worried ".....She'll be sad, and I'll be sad...." He glanced over at Blue's picture, then offered a smile "That's really neat." He said.

"I bet she wouldn't," Blue frowned. "Why would she marry someone who made her sad?" He brightened at the comment about his painting. "Thank you! But the face still isn't quite right." He dabbed the brush at the painting again, intent on fixing it.

"....That's true." He then grinned at Blue, and reached over to dab a bit of paint to help fix the nose, making it just a little better. "....I'd like her to be happy anyway... She works so hard... And she fights with Adam so much...."

"Thank you," Blue said again. He'd remember how to do that next time. "Who's Adam?" he inquired, curiously.

"One of my house mates... I guess you could call him my brother. He's 17, and always going out late at night... to parties and the like. Chieko worries constantly over him... I sometimes see her pacing in the living room when he's gone out, really late at night." He shifted in his seat, and continued to do his own painting, tilting his head to the side a bit

"Where does he go?" Reasonably satisfied with the figure's face, Blue moved on to the hair, picking out a bright yellow. "Does he know it makes her worry?" That was kind of rude, he thought.

"I think he knows... but... I think he's a little lost.... He seems like a lost spirit to me." He nodded a little, and tapped the paint brush against his lower lip, leaving a spot of blue there, before he returned to painting

"Really? Like a ghost?" That had Blue's attention, and he tilted his ear at Victor curiously. "You have some paint on you," he added.

"I do?" He blinked, and wiped at his cheek "Where?" And he shook his head a little bit "....No, well, not like a ghost... he's very much alive.... But... he's just... he just doesn't have any guidance, and as much as Miss Chieko tries, she can't find a path for him...."

"On your lip." Blue tapped his muzzle helpfully, trying to show Victor where the paint was and mostly succeeding in leaving a dollop of yellow in his fur.

"That makes you sad," he observed, and stopped paying attentionto his painting to watch Victor instead.

Victor nodded, and wiped his lip, then smiled, and picked up a cloth to wipe the yellow paint away from blue's fur ".....It does. Adam... almost seems like he doesn't want guidance, like he's lost in the moment.... I think he just needs something else to do other then party.... but that's all he knows, all he's comfortable with." He then blinked "....I think I read that in a book somewhere." He certainly didn't sound 14 at the moment, and he rubbed the side of his head.

"He kind of sounds like he's sad too," Blue said thoughtfully, and licked at the spot on his chin without thinking about it. "Yuck, paint ... "

Victor laughed, and shook his head. "Why would you lick it?" He hopped off his stool. "Come, let us go find a drink to wash that taste out." He put his brush down, and stretched a bit "....And perhaps there are cookies for us." He thought Adam was sad too, but, he wasn't sure how to help him. He knew Adam didn't have anyone in his life to call his own, maybe that was it?

"I didn't mean to lick it, I just did without thinking," Blue said sheepishly, and slid down from the stool, leaving his brush in the cup of water. "Cookies, really?"

"She's been baking all day!" He smiled more, and turned to head out the door, pushing some black hair behind his ear "What would you like to drink?"

"Oooh. My dad always burns cookies, so we never have the homemade kind," Blue told Victor. "If we're going to have cookies, we should have milk, right?"

"Yes! Milk is a fantastic idea. And maybe, if I ask nicely, Miss Chieko will allow me to send a plate of cookies home with you. I'm sure there is plenty... she always cooks and bakes so much." He looked thoughtful, and tapped his chin a bit, before he smiled at Blue, some black hair falling into his face.

"That would be really nice," Blue said, following Victor. Most of his shyness had evaporated by now. "I like snickerdoodles," he added thoughtfully.

"....Snickerdoodles?" He blinked back at the canine tale, before he turned back and moved to head into the kitchen, pausing as he caught a sight of Chieko stealing a quick kiss from Lapis, before she returned to piling cookies flat on the counter. There were all sorts of baked goods on plates on the large table off to the side.

"Uh huh, you know, sugar cookies with cinnamon and sugar sprinkled on top. They're really good," Blue explained. He peeked into the kitchen.

Lapis was helping Chieko transfer cookies from cooling racks to plates, and he turned to catch sight of the two children. "Are you behaving?" he asked Blue amiably.

Blue nodded. "I made a painting."

Chieko blinked back, having been unaware of the kids. She offered them a smile "Oh, a painting? Once you're done, we can hang it up in the gallery, if you like, or you can take it home. Are you boys hungry?" She asked

Victor nodded "Yes ma'am, May we please have a cookie each, and a glass of milk?" He seemed very polite for a tween.

"Can I take it home, please? And I would like a cookie and a glass of milk, too, Ms. Chieko, please," Blue said.

Chieko smiled more ".....You can just call me Chieko. You make me feel old, with all this miss and ma'am." She giggled a little, and got them each a glass of milk, and a few different cookies to munch on, sadly, no snickerdoodles.

Victor smiled, and turned to look at Blue "....So.... would you like to go see the rabbits?" He asked, before taking a bite out of one of his cookies

"Dad says it's polite to say Ms to my friends' moms," Blue answered shyly. "Thank you for the cookie." He took the glass and the cookie and started eating.

"Okay," he answered after he'd swallowed. "That would be neat."

".....So polite." She sighed, happily, before she turned back to continue to bake.

Victor nodded, and headed outside, and around the back, through a gate. Instantly, there could be seen groups of rabbits everywhere over the huge yard, munching on various things, relaxing, looking content.

Blue put his empty glass down on the counter and followed Victor out, still munching on his cookie. Outside, he looked around, blinking - rabbits everywhere! "Are they all your family's?" he asked.

"Well, in a way, I suppose... Chieko raises them and sells them.... Though business has been slow." He smiled at Blue, and bit into an oatmeal and chocolate chip cookie, chewing slowly, before swallowing. "....There sure are a lot, hmmm?"

"There are. It's like the dragons." Blue started out into the yard curiously. " ... Are they going to want my cookie if I go out there?"

"What kind is it? It's not the strawberry jam cookie, is it?" He asked, blinking as he peered at the cookie

"Yeah it is. How come? Is that bad?" Blue held the cookie out, blinking at it.

As he held the cookie out, a great swoop of feathers came down, flapping madly as the cookie was yanked from his hand.

Victor let out a yelp, and flailed a little bit, before he looked back over a tree next to them, where a winged rabbit held the cookie tucked tightly between it's front paws, nibbling at the cookie delicately

Blue yelped with surprise and jumped back, the fur along his spine puffing up under his clothing. After a moment he realized that the bunny had only wanted the cookie, though, and his ears flattened sheepishly. "It surprised me ... "

"They tend to do that when strawberries are involved..." He said, before he offered Blue another cookie, to replace the stolen one "....Blue?" His voice was quiet, a little more then usual.

Blue giggled, regaining some of his composure, and accepted the replacement cookie, nibbling on it. "Uh huh?"

"This has been fun." He said, with a smile, and nodded a little bit, some black hair falling into his face.

"I'm glad to meet you," Blue said, and bobbed his head. "You should come over and meet my pets sometime. That would be neat."

"....I would very much enjoy that!" He said, looking enthusiastic. He really loved that idea, before he blinked. ".....Are we.... Friends?" He suddenly asked

"Do you wanna be friends?" Blue asked anxiously.

"....I think it would be very good to be friends." He smiled, more, very very pleased. A friend! For some reason, it felt like it had been something he had missed, though, despite the fact he couldn't remember his past, surely he had friends before? Hadn't he...? ....Didn't everyone have friends...?

"Okay, then we're friends," Blue decided, and smiled at Victor.

The door opened behind them, and Lapis padded out. "It is time for us to go home, Blue," he said, and laid his hand on the small canine boy's shoulder.

"Aw." Blue tried not to pout, and mostly succeeded.

Victor broke into a huge smile at being called friend, before he blinked at the tall blue man. His smile faded, and he turned back to Blue "...once your painting dries, I will try and bring it to your house. Is that alright, Mr. Lapis?" He asked, turning back towards the tall man, blinking a little bit.

"I do not see why not," Lapis nodded, and smiled at Victor.

"Thank you, Victor," Blue said, perking up slightly.

"Alright. It was a pleasure to welcome you both into my home." He bowed, politely, before he moved to show them to the gate "Please, come again soon." He smiled a little, holding the front gate open for them

"Thank you! Come visit soon." Blue bowed politely in return, then followed Lapis out of the garden and down the path, tail wagging.

Blue liked books. Books, unlike people, were constant, quiet, certain. Even when they were complicated, they weren't going to have one thing on their pages one day, another the next. People were fascinating, but so often, people were confusing too. People were giant masses of contradictions, with ghosts that teased the edge of his vision and frustrated his sight.

Books didn't have ghosts.

Blue lay on his stomach on the rug in the upstairs balcony, turning the pages of a large book with concentration. Neira curled between his wings, buzzing softly in her sleep. She had chased the fluff of his tail for a time, then grown bored and climbed onto his back to nap. She, too, was uncomplicated; she was demandingly affectionate, and had claimed him as Her Person. Maybe she would grow complicated as she grew older, but she was not now.

People reminded Blue of the fractal illustrations on the posters in his bedroom; simple enough at a glance, but iterating into endless complexity the closer you looked. Everything down to the smallest detail was spiderwebbed with further detail. And little fleas have lesser fleas, and so ad infinitum. Why did he remember silly things like that? It was part of the fractal of his own pattern, he supposed.

He let the thoughts feather away like smoke, and went back to his book.

Sometimes Blue was jealous of Merlyn. It had always seemed to him that the feline child was so much more comfortable in his own shape - in either of them - than Blue has ever quite been with his thin limbs, little awkward wings, and long soft tail. He got the tail caught in doorways, sometimes. That always hurt. It was embarrassing, too.

Merlyn liked the fighting lessons. Somehow, in that as in little else in his life, Blue saw a sharp reminder that he was adopted. Usually it didn't matter. But when he watched Merlyn mirroring his father's graceful movements through the stylized dance of the exercises, he could see the resemblance and kinship that lay under the fur, and wished silently for it.

Khiarhu was the closest he had to blood kin, and it wasn't somehow quite the same. Something was missing, something that he couldn't name, something that the touch of feathers helped to soothe, sometimes. He went to Abishai when he felt that nameless ache, leaned against his papa's side and curled into his wing until the twist in his heart smoothed away again. Mostly he didn't think about it.

He'd refused to continue the fighting lessons after a few sessions. He felt awkward and clumsy, and the staff just felt wrong in his hands. Somethng else, his dad had said. What else? He was vaguely horrified at the thought of using weaponry of any sort, and while climbing and exploring was all well and good, the idea of regimenting himelf into formal fighting exercise was dreary and utterly boring. Something else. But he couldn't imagine what, and he felt a little strange for that, too.

The basilica was echoing silent, flickeringly dark. Blue pulled his bathrobe tighter arouns him and padded down the side aisle, his ears flicking this way and that. Heheard only the soft scuff of his slippers against the floor. Here and there, motion swirled brief in the corners of his eyes, but the ghosts had always gone when he looked. He didn't know why he was here. The dream had drawn him out of a deep sleep again, the nameless dream that woke him in a cold sweatof terror. Tonight, moved by some impulse he couldn't name, he had put on his slippers and gone down to the door that led to the cathedral, if you asked it to. He felt small and faintly silly now, scuffing through the dark and quiet, looking for who knew what.

There was one ghost, at least, that did not vanish into nothingness when a living gaze came to rest upon it -- that of a priest, tall and thin and still wearing his soutane after all these years. His steps echoed like a memory, drifting in and out of the range of hearing; there was a sad sort of loss to the man, but there was kindness in those transparent eyes still. When Blue came into view, the priest stopped and just watched the boy, waiting patiently for some sort of reaction.

Blue lowered his hand from rubbing his eyes and saw the ghost, watching him, waiting for him. As though he had been expected. Some ghosts were unaware of their surroundings, unaware oftheir own deaths, that the souls they had once been part of had gone on and left them behind; those ghosts never saw him when he watched them, and only repeated, over and over, a single series of actions, a moment in time that they had clung to so powerfully that they had remained in it beyond death. He did not think this ghost was of that sort. He stopped and gave the ghost a little, respectful bob of the head. "Hello," he said softly.

"Good evening, little one," the priest murmured, smiling warmly. "What brings you here?"

"I don't know," Blue answered honestly. "I felt like I needed to be here." He paused and scuffed his slipper against the floor. "Were you witing for me?" he asked curiously.

"I was waiting for someone to help me." The priest made his way closer, almost drifting across the floor. "I've been waiting a long time."

Blue jumped slightly as his pendant chilled suddenly beneath his pajamas. He blinked down at it, distracted momentarily. It rarely did that to him; only when other people tried to touch it, or when the ghost girl was nearby ... but it was reacting now, a silent inexplicable chill. "I think maybe I'm supposed to help you," he said aloud, puzzled, and held his hand out trustingly towards the ghost. "What do you need?"

The man took Blue's hand; it was like holding air, and yet it was undeniably there. "Many years ago, I lost my rosary. It was one that had been passed down through centuries. I was trying to find it when the fire struck. All I want is for it to be safe again. Can you help me find it?"

Blue nodded. It was oddly like a dream, the words stirring distant echoes in him. "I will help you," he said. "Do you know where it was?"

"I know where it used to be, but I can't move things aside to go looking," the priest offered, leading the way through the corridors of the basilica.

Blue followed, listening to the patting of his footsteps as he moved. The ghost was silent, of course. But his presence was powerful. Lost and benevolent, stuck here in the basilica because he had been unable to complete his last task before he died. Blue flinched away from the thought of that death. "I can't move big things," he offered softly. "But I'll help as best as I can."

"I don't think there will be a need to move anything big." The priest made his way into a room, looking around with a sort of distant sadness. Abishai, pulled by some compulsion he couldn't name, had tried to clean this room and fix it, but there was only so much the demon -- now angel -- had been able to do. "I remember it last being in here. This was my room when I was alive."

Blue pulled aside dusty curtains from the small paned window, letting moonlight stream in, watery through the thick glass. To his eyes, the ghost glowed faintly with his own light, but none of that light illuminated what was around him, and Blue needed to be able to see. He started poking carefully around the room, looking in and around and under furniture. Wisps of smoke tickled his nostrils. Perhaps the scent was real, lingering from the ancient fire; perhaps he only imagined it.

The dark blue and silver rosary was hidden in a crack between the floorboards and the wall, behind a small dresser. The priest drifted towards the dresser, resting a hand on it -- and partially through it. "I had it up here, last."

Blue hunted through the drawers of the dresser; as he moved towards the floor, he felt a faint chill aginst his chest again. "Maybe it fell down," he said softly, and lay down, peering underneath the dresser. His hand found dust and rough wood, and then - beads, caught in a crack. He touched the rosary lightly, worked it out of the crack by feel. "I think - is this it?" He squirmed backwards and sat up, holding it up and ignoring the dust smeared across him.

"...Yes," the priest breathed, reaching up to touch it with a fingertip. "Yes, this is -- was -- mine. It escaped the fire... Praises be. My name is Father Davidson. What is yours?"

"I'm Blue," the Tale said, and held up the rosary to the ghost. "It's okay. I found it for you. You can go home now." Unexpectedly, the words brought tears to the corners of his eyes.

Reaching forward, the priest curled Blue's hand around the rosary. "Keep it," he murmured. "Keep it safe for me, I'm passing it on to you. Why are you crying, little one?"

"I don't know." Blue held the rosary carefully, feeling the edges of the crystal and silver beads against his palm. His own cross was unwaveringly, burningly cold against his chest. "I'll keep it safe."

The ghost let his hand rest gently atop Blue's head as if in benediction. "Smile, my son. You have earned a bit of happiness, after all."

"I hope I have," Blue whispered. He smiled a watery, uncertain smile. He felt cold all over, an increasing sense of chill in his whole body. What was it? what else did he need to do?

Then, far away, a bell began to toll the half-hour, somewhere across the city, and he knew. The Bell of the Dead, a voice whispered in his mind. "I need to go get my bell," he said softly. "Wait for me. I'll be right back."

Nodding softly, the priest waited where he was, watching the boy with a sad sort of fondness.

Blue unfolded himself and dashed back down the hallway, running down to the door that would lead him back home; he moved through the house as quickly and quietly as he could, hoping that nobody would wake to ask him what he was doing. He climbed up on a chair to take the wind bell down from his window, and hurried back, sharply aware of how much time he was taking. He shouldn't take too long, something told him silently. He didn't have much time left. When he skidded back into the room, he was breathing too hrad to speak for a moment; he leaned against the wall to catch his breath, then approached the ghost again, holding the rosary in one hand, the bell in the other.

He let the bell swing, once, twice, three times, its chime clear in the abandoned room. "I release you," he whispered. "Go to your reward, and rest."

Slowly, the priest began to glow; within moments, however, that glow faded and he vanished from sight, a soft smile on his lips as he went. After he was gone, his voice lingered for a moment, soft and warm: "Peace be unto you, my son. I will not forget this..."

And then there was silence.

Blue sank to his knees as the sense of presence faded from the room. The chill faded away from his body, and he sighed in relief. He was warm in contrast, now ... no, hot ... what was happening? He looked down at himself in confusion. Too hot. He was burning up - oh, it hurt! Flames, and smoke all around him, and a voice calling his name before the blackness took him away.

When he woke again, the bell and rosary had fallen from his hands. He picked himself up slowly, confused. It hadn't been a dream; he was still in the priest's room, his bell onthe floor, the rosary beside it. And around him, on the floorboards, an outline of ashes, as though something had burned away. He noticed suddenly that he was naked, and felt his cheeks burn with a blush under his fur. Had the ashes been his clothing? His hand flew to his neck - no, his necklace was untouched, the metal cool and unresponsive in his hand. He leaned over to pick up the bell and rosary, then got to his feet, confused and embarrassed.

Up was further up, and he wobbled for a moment, blinking. He was bigger. He had grown. He saw again the priest's gentle smile, and tears pricked at his eyes again. There was an old and dusty sheet on the bed; he wrapped it round himself and padded slowly back out. He would return home, and maybe in the morning, he would understand.