Shortly after the return of Dreams, Exar once more ordered the Familia Celare to attend him at the top of the Citadel tower. "My Nobles, The Unbeheld has announced to me his wishes regarding the upcoming 20th anniversary of the unfortunate events when you carelessly let the Excrucian Yan-Ilohrrim into the Chancel."
Dreams moved close to Nash and whispered, "His Nobles? You told me we served The Unbeheld."
"We do, don't take any notice of him. Suffice to say he is a transient annoyance not worthy of your attention," hissed Nash between clenched teeth.
Exar made no sign of having noticed and continued, "The Unbeheld in his mercy has decided to focus on your defeat of Yan-Ilohrrim instead. We will stage the greatest masked ball for some of the finest Nobles to attend. It will be a chance to repair some of the embarrassment you caused ten years ago. The Unbeheld trusts you will do better this time. In his eternal wisdom he must see something in you that I don't." Dreams moved to ask Nash something further, but Nash gave her a look that plainly said this was not the time. "You will all plan the festivities. The guest list, the entertainment and so on. I will take charge of acquiring the very special masks that will be given to our guests. If there are no questions you are all dismissed. I have important things to attend."
The Nobles all left the tower, many carrying barely controlled rage against being treated like school children by someone who wasn't even Noble! "I swear, he has gone too far. The Unbeheld can't mean for his children to be treated like this!" said Nash to Whisper as soon as they were out of earshot, hoping the strong spirit of his friend would keep their rebellious talk private. "I have a plan. I just need a bit of time and some help from you, Self and Electronics. Trust me. This one will work flawlessly."
During the next week the Nobles of Familia Celare started to lay their plans for the upcoming festivities as well as performing their normal duties to their own Domains. Some of the more ambitious Nobles were thinking hard who they could invite in order to strike deals favourable to themselves. Dreams did nothing more than explore the new wondrous existence she now inhabited. She spent much time with the Nightmare Guard. They could not stop celebrating her return, a relished relief from the questions of her whereabouts from her Noble brothers which she could not answer. Whisper tried everything to find the secret of her disappearance but came back empty handed.
After a week Exar called the Nobles back to the top of the Citadel. "Not quite sure how to put this," Exar said, looking a bit deflated. "The Masks were to be created by Krüber, The Power of the Forge. It seems though that he is currently ... unavailable. All the normal entrances to his Chancel are closed. No one can get through. I need to get a message through to him and the only option left is to seek him where his Chancel links to the Earth realm, at the bottom of the Voronya Cave in Georgia. I want all of you to go."
Nash looked like Christmas just came early. "Us? The Unbeheld gave you only one task and now you are pawning it of on us? Why don't you go if it is so important?"
Exar looked surprised. "Leave? I can never leave this Chancel. I am its Warden and the power invested in me ties me here with bonds that may never be broken! No, it must be you. Don't worry, it is an easy task. Go and convince The Forge to make us the masks we need. That is all. You are dismissed."
Locus Specus, the Chancel of The Forge, connects to the Earth Realm at the deepest point of the deepest cave on earth, The Voronya Cave, Georgia. As always when the Familia Celare needs to go somewhere, Nash quickly volunteered his own highly advanced jet-plane, indefinitely borrowed from the experimental unit of Area-51.
"No thanks, I think I have another means of getting there," said Dreams with a shy smile.
"If she can do what the other incarnation of Dreams could, she'll beat us there," Whisper said to Nash before he had time to insist. Whisper was the oldest of the Nobles and the only one who had known the previous Dreams before her disappearance.
Dreams waved her Noble brothers goodbye as the jet rose up into the sky and took of towards the edge of the Chancel. She went back into the Citadel, took the elevator 30 floors up where one of the priests was sleeping by his desk. "I hope you have sweet dreams," Dreams thought to herself as she took a step into them.
The man was having a dream of entrapment. He was in a white room with no door, and he was running late to his own wedding. "Will you help me get out of here?" asked the man as he noticed the woman holding a teddy bear.
"No. There is a lesson you need to learn here. In any case, I'm in a hurry," Dreams said and walked through the wall into the next dream, and then the next, jumping from dream to dream through the dream sea, moving from dreamer to dreamer ever closer to Georgia.
The last dream she got to was a strange two-phase dream of a mother and the child she was still carrying. While one was substantial and populated with the normal preoccupations of a human mind, the child's dream had less structure, less substance. "Fascinating. I will have to look into that later," thought Dreams before stepping out into the cold air of a small bedroom in the Georgian town of Gagra.
The other members of Familia Celare travelled to Georgia via Nash's jet. Activating the cloaking device they managed to land unseen on the furthers reach of a small military airport strip called Kvemo-Kolkhida. Being both invisible and silent, the only disturbance one of the soldiers in the guard house on the opposite end of the strip could have noticed was the little whirlwind of snow blown up by the jet. But no one did.
"What a disillusioned place," said Electronics as he stepped out of the jet.
"It is a forgotten military base on the outskirts of Georgia, what did you expect?" said Self.
"We are to pick up our sister in Gagra. She's probably there already. We need some transport," said Whisper.
"There's a Jeep over there," said Nash and points to a Jeep halfway between the jet and the guardhouse. "I'll arrange some cover."
Nash had an old friend in these parts of the world. An old legend he had been nurturing for many years, the Baba-Yaga, the spirit of the terrible snow storms that can blow up with no notice. Nash summoned the Baba-Yaga. To those who could see the spirits behind the world saw the Baba-Yaga as a towering white fur-covered beast that would throw things around and blow snow from his over-sized mouth. To the poor soldiers now scrambling to close windows, secure down planes and generally stay standing the Baba-Yaga looked like the worst snow storm they had ever witnessed. Visibility was reduced to an arms length at best and the Nobles took this opportunity to steal the Jeep and drive away.
After half an hour's drive they arrived at Gagra. Not much had happened in Gagra since the second world war, and the sudden arrival of a beautiful woman carrying a teddy bear and dressed entirely inappropriately for the cold had drawn the attention of every young male in town and the scorn of every woman. Happily Dreams had accepted a furry hat from one of the men. He was amazed when she thanked him in perfect Georgian and asked him to come talk to her while she waited for her friends. When the Jeep pulled up to the town square Dreams got up, kissed the man on the forehead and skipped over to the Jeep and left Gagra with new conversation material to last them a decade.
The remaining drive up the Krubera mountains to the entrance of the Voronya Cave normally takes a good two hours but Whisper managed to find a path that took no more than twenty minutes. They parked the Jeep a few minutes walk away from the entrance and walked the rest of the way. From a distance they saw the entrance to the cave and a small guardhouse, big enough to hold a couple of soldiers. The gate to the cave looked properly locked down, presumably to keep cave divers from wandering in and get themselves killed.
"Leave this to me," said Electronics and downloaded the information he needed about who was on duty that night in the little hut ahead and who their superior was. He then patching a fake call to the hut.
"This is Officer Sergei," said Electronics.
"Private Nikov here, Sir!", replied a nervous voice.
"There is a group of foreigners on their way to the cave. You shall let them in and not ask any questions."
"Yes Sir, understood."
"Good. They will be there in a minute or so."
"A minute! Right. No problem, Sir."
Through the window of the hut the Nobles could see the silhouettes of two soldiers frantically busying themselves smartening up. The Nobles picked up the Jeep and drove up to the hut where they were met by a soldier in a white-camouflaged uniform and carrying a rifle. He might have looked official and imposing had it not been for his hat being the wrong way around and his open-mouthed face of disbelief as the unlikely party of cave divers stepped out of the Jeep.
"Ehh, wha... Welcome to the cave of Voronya. I am private Nikov. I was told you wanted to go in straight away," said Nikov watching the visitors with badly hidden surprise. "I am afraid we don't have caving equipment here."
"Don't worry, we don't need any," said Psionics and helped Dreams down from the Jeep.
"Oh. So you are just going to look around the entrance then?"
"Oh no," said Electronics, "we are going all the way to the bottom and then some. And you really shouldn't break orders and ask questions."
Turning a shade whiter Nikov walked over to the gate, unlocked it and removed the heavy chains keeping it closed.
"Thank you little man," quipped Dreams, patted him on the cheek and walked into the dark cave.
When Nikov had seen all of the strangers into the cave, he walked back to the guard house, not entirely sure what to tell his friend.
The descent would have been extraordinarily challenging for a well equipped and trained caver. For six Nobles it proved no challenge at all. Nash transformed himself to an urban legend he had picked up in Gagra about a ghost lady who kidnapped miners. In that guise he could easily drift downwards. The rest simply relied on their Noble-powered bodies to lead them safely down the narrow cave.
The Nobles descended almost 2 kilometres into the earth. There Whisper felt the familiar sensation of a near-by Chancel entrance. Forging a path there he lead the party to a cave-in with a small hand-written note sitting on on of the rocks saying
;The Forge;FORGE CLOSED. GO AWAY.
NOTHING MATTERS ANY MORE.
(unless you have vodka)
Whisper walked over and ran a hand over the rocks. "This ward won't be able to keep me out. I'll go in and have a look around. See if I can acquire and audience with the Familia Caelestis in here." With that he transformed his appearance to that of a medieval page and walked straight through the stones into the Chancel behind.
The tunnel on the other side of the cave-in looked much like the tunnels he left behind, but he knew well that he was no longer on the Earth realm. This was a chancel and any sensible Noble entering a chancel without an audience would tread carefully. He walked a bit further into the cave and suddenly stopped. An eerie female humming was drifting through the cold air. Whisper stopped and waited with bated breath. The humming came closer, and then, he saw a familiar sight. The white translucent form of a young woman in a white dress drifted along the tunnel, coming towards him. Had he not known that Nash could not enter another's Chancel uninvited, he would have thought it was him, wearing the guise of the urban legend of Gagra.
"I am the White Lady, Baroness of Caves, Tunnels and all who dwell within them. The Forge is closed due to ... issues. Please come back later."
"A thousand apologies my Lady, but we cannot wait."
"We? Should you introduce yourself so I might see how one is many."
"I am Whisper, the Power of Secrets. I am one sixth of the Familia Celare. My siblings are waiting beyond those rocks, on the Earth realm."
"Secrets?" says the White Lady, a flash of hope playing over her face. "Tell me good Lord, can you keep them?"
"As well as my own heart's desires."
"Then you and your family may enter under the understanding that what you learn here tonight stays secret."
The White Lady waved her hand at the cave-in and the stones rolled aside as had they been alive.
"Follow me," she said to the waiting Nobles, "and I shall take you to the Forge."
The White Lady led the Nobles deeper into the cave. Whisper, the one among them with an affinity to always know his relation to the Earth realm, noticed that the distance covered in the Chancel translated to vastly greater distances on Earth.
"Welcome to the Forge," said the White Lady as they entered a cave the size of a great cathedral. There was no floor. Instead there was an abyss that stretched as far as they could see. A red light could be seen at what presumable would be the bottom. A narrow stone bridge spanned the distance between the entrance to the cave and a central column with a spiral staircase that reached all the way down to the strange red light. On the central column a forge had been set up complete with anvil and fire-lit oven. Leaning against the base of the oven sat a huge man, dressed in stained clothes and a leather apron. A huge hammer hung by his side, and all around him lay discarded brown bottles.
"Beloved brother, I brought help," the White Lady said to the man lying among the bottles.
"Help ehh?" said the man and opened a bloodshot eye. "I asked for more vodka, not help."
"You've had plenty and it hasn't solved the problem has it?" The White Lady drifted across the stone bridge. "Now either we accept their help or I will summon the master surgeon to have that heart of yours removed." The White Lady turned around and faced her guests. "May I introduce to you the Forge.
"We are sorry to hear about the existence of a problem within these charming Chancel walls but, really, we came regarding an order," said Nash.
"Sorry buddy, but I'm busy. You see, I am working up such a hangover that the pain in my head will distract from that of my broken heart. Come back in a decade or so," said the Forge.
"You're in love?" said Dreams. "I thought the Heptad had forbidden Nobles to love."
"The Windflower Law, yes. Which is why I hope you will all keep this secret." said the White Lady.
"Who's the girl?" asked Dreams.
"Monique Coultier." There was a deep longing in the Forge's voice. "She's the Duchess of Desire and she ..."
"... is a manipulative little siren," interrupted the White Lady.
"Take that back!" bellowed the Forge and threw a bottle at her. It went straight through her and fell into the depth underneath.
"No I will not! She used her charms to make you build that tower for her and then she simply discarded you! Called you an unsophisticated brute. My brother, where is your dignity? Coming from another Noble you would have crushed his skull with your hammer. Instead you lock yourself in here with your vodka!"
"Terrible. Really, I know what it's like being rejected and betrayed by someone you lov ... care for," said Nash. "But we are here because we need some very special masks forged for a masked ball coming up soon. You're the best blacksmith under Yggdrasil and we need your help."
"Are you deaf or dumb boy? I said I'm not working!" bellowed the Forge and threw another bottle which Self , quick as lightning, caught mid-air and threw after the first.
"I'm neither. I am good at fixing situations though," lied Nash calmly. "So what will it take to get you back to work?"
"A masked ball you say?" A shrewd expression played across the Forge's face. "Go talk to her. Bring her here and if she agrees to accompany me to the ball, you've got your masks."
"Very well. Don't you need to know the enchantments on these masks?"
"Ha! If you can think it I can make it. But know this. Anything taken out of the Forge must return or the Forge is weakened and must be strengthened once more by the blood of a Noble."
"Come, I will show you the way out," said the White Lady and guided the visiting Nobles back across the stone bridge. Once out of earshot she continued, "Thank you for doing this. I would have gone and had a word with Desire myself had I not been tied to the subterranean nature of my Domain. I do not know what she will tell you but know this. If she cannot be persuaded to accompany the Forge to this ball of yours, it will be a long time before the Forge is operational again. The Heptad won't stand for it as they need a constant supply of weapons for the Valde Bellum. I fear their anger should the Forge fail in that duty and I fear the Excrucian consequences even more. Please make haste."
She led the character's back through the labyrinthine system of tunnels back to the cave-in where they had entered the Chancel. Once again she asked the stones to move aside and let the Nobles leave. Before Whisper left she stopped him, gave him a small blue flower and said, "Here, my dear secret keeper, take this. When you wish to return to this Chancel, go to any tunnel or mine and press this flower against the stone walls therein and say my name and I shall come and fetch you."
"Pray tell, what is your name?"
"I was once known as Lorraine Fairfax. That will do."
The following day Nash, Self and Whisper went to Hollywood, home to a film producer who according to the divine grape wine was an Anchor of Desire. Through him they gained an audience with Desire for the day after that. Entrance to her Chancel could be found in a Canadian forest. This time all members of the Familia Celare took Nash's Jet. The entrance to the Chancel was in a very remote part of the forest and Dreams couldn't be sure there would be any sleeping mortals around to exit the dream sea through.
Whisper obviously found the correct path once the Nobles left the Jet and soon he felt the proximity of a Chancel. Moving along the path, the dark foreboding forest quickly changed to be brighter, warmer and on the whole a lot more pleasant. Soon the forest gave way for a green lush landscape with rolling hills, blue streams of clear water and quaint little villages. They had entered the Chancel of Desire.
Some hours walking distance from where they stood, the Nobles could see a town, the largest that they could see within the Chancel. The bright white marble tower at the centre of the town almost certainly marked it as the capital as well as their destination.
Walking through this idyllic landscape they saw farmers and tradesmen, all keeping their distance and bowing respectfully. As they reached the town with the marble tower they initially mistook the queue leading up to the gates for people waiting to enter. The queue continued on the other side of the town walls though. The queue snaked its way in and out of streets and probably covered most of the town.
As the Nobles walked straight towards the centre of town and the imposing marble tower, they saw many posters of the same woman who also seemed to feature on every first page of every newspaper in every newspaper stand. It was a young looking woman with dark-brown long hair and a pale complexion. She was extraordinarily beautiful, like a Hollywood star from the 1950's.
The tower stood in the centre of the main square. The square was surrounded by old-styled quaint houses and the square itself was laid with cobblestones. Uncommon to most squares was the moat that surrounded the glistening marble tower. The tower was three or maybe four times as tall as the surrounding buildings and looking up one would have been able to make out a human on the topmost balcony, a feature not likely to be an architectural coincidence. Neither did it surprise anyone that the massive queue they've seen all over town ended up at the tower.
"I bet this queue rivals the queue to Heaven," said Psionics.
"Don't know about you guys but I don't feel like queueing," said Self and walked up the the drawbridge and the guards by it. "We have an audience with Desire,"
"Honoured Nobles, you are expected and welcome," said one of the guards and the drawbridge was lowered. A very loud murmur erupted from the queue but one angry glare from the guard silenced it.
A bald man wearing a set of the finest butler clothes welcomed the Nobles as they crossed the bridge. "Welcome honoured guests. Please, step this way and I shall take you to my Lady." He gestured the Nobles to enter the large doors of the tower. Inside a corridor led them to a large circular room at the centre of the tower. The butler walked to a lever at the opposite side of the room. "Going up," he said and pulled the lever. The floor of the room moved upwards. Only the floor moved. The walls were stationary. A meter's gap between the floor and the walls allowed the floor to move upwards unhindered by the many paintings that hung on the wall. They were all of either the same woman as on the posters throughout the town or famous movie stars such as Greta Garbo, Eve Arden and Ingrid Bergman.
The elevator had only one stop, the 'Penthouse' of the tower. It took up the entire floor and was perfectly round. Like the tower the walls were of the finest marble. It had two levels with four large staircases leading up to the top level. At the top of one of them stood Desire.
"You grace me with your visit, dear Lords and Lady," said Desire and took one step down the staircase. "My name is Monique Coultier," she took another step, "Dutchess of Desire." Each syllable formed and given life with the same grace as each step down the stairs. She wore a long sparkling dress that showed of her sensuous curves while still highlighting her sophistication. Her appearance was similar to that of the divas of the silent film era that covered the elevator walls. "Now what can Desire do for you?" she said as she reached the first level.
"My Lady, we are the Nobles of the Unbeheld Imperator. We shall hold a masked ball to commemorate the defeat of the Excrucian Yan-Ilohrrim and we wished to invite you personally," said Self with a bow.
"A defeat of an Excrucian shard makes you all heroes among Nobles and I will gladly accept your invitation. Though, something tells me this invitation is not the sole reason for six Nobles to come her in person."
"Quite right my Lady. There is a small issue we need to discuss."
"Nothing serious I hope."
"It's a masked ball."
"No issue my Lord, they are quite fashionable again."
"The masks will be enchanted to allow the wearer to take on any guise."
"An enchanting idea my Lord, still no cause for worry."
"We may not be able to supply you one."
"No?" Desire's face remained neutral but the lights in the room darkened slightly. "And why is that?"
"It seems you have a quarrel with the Forge who will be making the masks. He was ... hesitant ... to make you a mask."
"You are quite wrong," said Desire. "I have no quarrel with the Master Blacksmith. We had a business arrangement which he was intent to give a more personal nature. I did him a favour by walking away, saving him from violating the Windflower Law."
"Honourable as we always knew your intentions would be, they do not change the situation. He refuses to make you your mask."
"Then convince him! If that unsophisticated old brute makes me look bad I shall not attend!"
"That would be a shame. We were hoping to make you a guest of honour so all Nobles could see the good you've done for Yggdrasil. But never mind. Maybe in another decade. Apologies for wasting your time, my Lady," said Self and indicating to his siblings to leave. They made it a few meters.
"Wait," said Desire, "let's not be too hasty. Surely there is something we could do."
"Well, we can talk to the Forge once more. But the truth my Lady is that you alone have the charm and grace necessary to sway his mind," said Self.
"Very well. I will see him at my earliest convenience."
"He's busy," said Dreams causing her brothers to look at her surprised. "We have an audience with him in two weeks. You may accompany us then."
"Very well, in two weeks. Thank you for raising this concern and for your generous invitation."
The Nobles left the Chancel. "What was that all about?" demanded Whisper of Dreams.
"You did not listen. Both the White Lady and Desire let it slip how Desire sees the Forge as a brute. And he is. We need not only bring Desire to the Forge, but also make her accept him as her escort for the ball and she will never do that in his current state. She is obsessed with her own glamorous image. We need time to improve his. A lot."
"Well thought little sister!" said Nash happily as they turned their step towards the Jet.
"Never," said the Forge.
"It's the only way," said Dreams annoyed.
"Look, I appreciate that you convinced Desire to come here and speak to me but I will not be Victoria's little pet-student."
"She's the Power of Etiquette. Like it or not but she is the only chance you have of not making a blabbering fool out of yourself when you meet with Desire. She is obsessed with how she is perceived, that she is desired. As it stands, you do not fit the image!"
"Etiquette has been on my case for the last eternity or two. I've taken great pride in rejecting her offers of teaching me her Domain for all of that time. Should I suddenly cave in I will not be able to look myself in the mirror again!" said the Forge.
"Why care of your own reflection when you can gaze at Desire for all time. Prioritize!"
The Forge went silent for a moment. "I think I have another way to convince Desire to be my escort. But you have a point. I could use any advantage I could get."
"Great! Etiquette awaits you for your first lesson at her mansion tomorrow morning," said Dreams.
"You're coming with me aren't you?" said the Forge.
"Why would I ..." Dreams caught the sudden pleading look of the Forge. "...ever want to miss it."
When the White Lady had led the Nobles to her brother, Nash noticed that she acted strangely impatient. So while Dreams convinced the Forge to study etiquette under Victoria, Nash followed the White Lady as she glided down one of the tunnels. The many tunnels that branched of in all directions would have made it difficult to find ones way. Fortunately the White Lady hummed her characteristically tuneless little hymn as she went deeper into the cave system and Nash followed her voice.
After a while they reached a tunnel that had strange little narrow tunnels branching of both left and right spaced out evenly. Nash investigated one of them and found a cell, only a few square meters big, all made from stone and with stalagmites acting as the bars. Inside lay some dusty old bones. Nash investigated another little corridor further on and once again it ended in a cell, this time with a complete skeleton and a miner's lamp. Every corridor Nash investigated had similar findings, each one becoming a bit fresher until the last cell Nash investigated had a live person inside it.
"Oh my God, dear God, please, you must help me! You must!" said the man in Quechuan, gripping the bars of his cell. He looked South American and did not wear a single piece of clothing.
"How the hell did you end up in here?" asked Nash.
"I was working in the mines of Potosi when there was a cave-in. I thought I would die but then that ... woman ... found me and told me to come with her. What could I do but follow? I should have just died back there! She has kept me a prisoner here for months! Please! Hurry! She'll come back!"
"Right. Well, I'm not sure I can do that."
"But you must! You must! She's not human, she's ... she's a ghost! Please you must let me out! The only thing keeping me from going crazy in here is talking to the spirits of the rocks!"
"You might want to reflect on what you just said there my friend," said Nash. The naked man was clearly suffering from Dementia Animus and was now a life-time citizen of the Mythic Reality. Then Nash heard it, the White Lady's tuneless melody had drawn closer.
"What are you shouting for, my love?" said the White Lady. Her voice was so close she must have been at the entrance of the small tunnel leading straight to the cell.
Nash acted quickly. Transforming himself to a cloud of the fabled MRSI virus he hid by infecting the Bolivian miner. The White Lady drew nearer and when she got within a couple of meters Nash realised that his hiding place had been chosen poorly. The White Lady's spirit was unusually strong, perhaps due to the lack of a normal body, and it held a stranglehold on her own view of the world. The Noble miracle Nash employed to keep his change of shape unravelled. Unable to stop he burst into his own shape, causing the body of the miner to tear apart from the inside like a bloodied rag doll.
It was the first time Nash had seen a ghost lost for words.
Dripping of gore Nash figured attack was the best defence. "How dare you induce Dementia Animus in these poor people!"
"How dare I? How dare I! You murdered him! You are within my Chancel and you have murdered one of my people in the most foul manner and you attack me?"
"Yes, well, that was unfortunate, but still, you kidnap these people and align their minds with the Mythic Reality. That is against the law!"
"Do not preach or threaten me in my own Chancel young Lord! I saved these people. In case you had not noticed, I am a ghost and will induce Dementia Animus in anyone who sees me. Therefore I must keep them here, and there is not a single letter in a single word in a single paragraph in a single chapter in a single book anywhere in the Locust Court that I have violated by doing so!"
"Damn," thought Nash, "she has a point."
"Wait until my brother hears about this outrage!" said the White Lady and left.
"Yes, wait until he hears what you keep down here," said Nash, though his words started to sound hollow.
"Fool, of course he knows. We are family!"
Nash and the White Lady rejoined the others just as they had decided that Dreams would accompany the Forge on his lessons with Etiquette. After the White Lady had recounted the events in the prison tunnels, the Forge said to Nash, "We invited you to our home under the banner of friendship and this is how you repay us? You are from now on banished from this Chancel. Go now and never return."
"But brother," said the White Lady, "surely he deserves worse! He murdered one of my miners! Letting him walk out on bones not crushed and breathing with lungs not punctured would be too lenient. I don't propose we throw him into the Forge and dispel his soul, but this is uncharacteristically merciful!"
"Out of respect for the help given to us from his brothers and sister we shall not act such a vengeance. Now, lead him out of here. Unharmed."
"Very well, come this way, murdered," said the White Lady to Nash and walked towards one of the walls. As she came close the walls crumbled and a new tunnel opened up as she walked. Nash followed her.
"Terribly sorry for this my Lord," said Whisper. "I trust this does not change anything?"
"No, you will still get your masks. But go now. Dreams, I will see you soon."
The rest of Familia Celare followed Nash and the White Lady. They walked through the tunnel but didn't see neither Nash nor the White Lady. Finally they found themselves in the tunnels beneath Locus Celare, still no trace of Noble brother nor ghost. Lorraine had in fact split the tunnel in two, leading the others to safety and the subject of her burning hatred to the frozen plains of Siberia.
As the enormous task of injecting sufficient levels of sophistication into the highly unsophisticated Forge had to be done in a mere two weeks, Dreams wasted no time. She easily arranged the two week audience with Etiquette who, had it not been against her Domain, would have giggled with glee upon receiving news that the Noble who had for such a long time denounced her Domain as trivial games for the self-important nobodies now had decided to take up lessons.
Dreams and the meter taller Forge walked down the tree-lined path towards the mansion that was the Chancel of Etiquette.
"She is an only child," said Dreams holding her teddy bear. "Her Chancel is very small, just the Mansion and the surrounding grounds. And here is your first lesson in etiquette. It wouldn't be polite to point that out."
"Right," said the Forge, holding his hammer. "How do you know anyway? I thought you were enNobled just a few days ago."
"True. But I learnt of her Domain as a mortal," said Dreams and nodded in the direction of a woman in a black dress standing at the top of the stairs leading up to the front doors of a beautiful three-story yellow mansion. Detracting from the female visage of sophistication was her 50 butlers. Not a single thread of their black trousers, red butler jackets and white gloves differed between them. Not a single hair of their black, neatly combed hair differed. And there was not a single angle difference between their poise as they stood in two lines forming a corridor leading up to the mansion.
"They are freaking me out," whispered the Forge to Dreams.
"Just keep smiling," said Dreams as they reached the steps.
"My dear friends, you are most welcome to my Chancel," said Etiquette warmly. "Krüber, dearest Noble, how glad I am to hear that you have finally come to agree with me on the importance of etiquette."
"Victoria," said the Forge between clenched teeth.
"Don't worry dear, we'll have you greet like a Noble in no time," said Etiquette, patted the Forge on the shoulder and turned to Dreams. "And you must be Dreams. So glad to meet you. I am Victoria, the Power of Etiquette. I heard you wanted to assist me in the teachings of our Forge. It will be my pleasure to have you as a guest in my house. Please, come in."
The Forge and Dreams spent the next couple of weeks in the Chancel of Etiquette. They covered all aspects of the fine arts of etiquette applicable to Noble society. Victoria lamented that she could not coverer the multitude of variations at play in the many different cultures, not only on the Earth realm but of all civilized species upon the worlds of Yggdrasil.
For the first few days the lessons were a torrent of vindictive schadenfreude from Etiquette as she wasted no opportunity to point out how the Forge had come to her for help. Dreams now saw just why the Forge had pleaded for her to come with him. Without her assistance the Forge would have never been able to cope. With Dreams reminders that he had to do this to win the heart of Desire, he applied himself to learn as much as he could. When Etiquette noticed this, her whole demeanour changed. So much that when the day came for the Forge to return something of a friendship had formed between the two.
The day had come for Desire to meet with the Forge. The Familia Celare had all gone to Desire's Chancel to escort her to the Forge, all except Nash.
"We will need press this little blue flower against a bare stone wall in your basement, my Lady," said Whisper.
"Dear Noble," said Desire with a small smile and showed him a small blue flower of her own, "I've always had permission to enter the Forge." She pressed the little flower against the wall and stood back. After a few minutes the wall turned in on itself and revealed the ghostly light of the White Lady.
"The Forge is waiting." The White Lady looked around at the Nobles in front of her. "Good, I see you haven't brought the murdered."
They walked down the tunnel. Even for a spectre the White Lady gave Desire a cold shoulder. After what felt like an eternity they reached the inner sanctum of the Forge. All Nobles held back as Desire took a step out on the stone bridge. At the other end stood the Forge with his broad back turned at Desire.
"Master Blacksmith, I have returned," said Desire.
The Forge raised his hammer and struck something in front of him. The loud clang echoed and reverberated throughout the enormous cave. The silence that followed was as complete as the noise it replaced.
Desire took a few more steps across the bridge. "I hear anger has been growing within you since we parted."
Once more the forge raised his hammer and once more the deafening noise was heard throughout the chamber.
Desire stood still for a while, silent, then slowly and carefully crossed the bridge until she stood behind the Forge. She raised a hand to his shoulder and said, "I still care."
As her hand touched his shoulder, he raised his arm, roared with fury and struck the item in front of him a third time. Horror struck Desire withdrew her hand.
The Forge's shoulders rose and fell with his heavy breathing. "Reasons made you leave me and new ones brought you back. You are free to follow them while I, I remain in bondage to your accursed gift of desire."
The Forge turned around and in his hands he held a glistening mask in silver and gold. With tenderness he placed the mask on the face of Desire and walked past her a few paces, leaving her to look out over the abyss. She turned slowly to see how the Forge took the hammer from his belt and with a mighty arm and a deadly aim hurled it at her mask-covered face. Desire had no time to do more than draw a panicked breath of air. The scream never came. The hammer stopped mid-air inches from its target, quivered, then fell onto the stone bridge with a thud.
No one moved. "I forged the mask out of my own desire for you," said the Forge. "As your soul is refracted through it, every spirit, low as high, will see as I do. Like me, no arrow nor sword could ever wish to harm you. As long as my heart burns for you, the world will desire you completely."
With a tear falling down her cheek Desire walked over to the Forge. "Your bonds are mine. We are even."
Thus Desire agreed to be the escort of the Forge and the Familia Celare got their masks.
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"With all due respect, you are the freakiest looking"
- Joshua to Angus McKenna while discussing if the group should infiltrate the group of "new-agers" who have started to worship the moon from Arthurs Seat in Edinburgh Alternates.