The Appleclock Saga

[Peregrine_Appleclock]

This is The Appleclock Saga: The backstory of Peregrine Appleclock.

This is a story roleplay to which nobody but me is allowed to make additions as of now. I hope you enjoy!

~~ Peri Appleclock

[Peregrine_Appleclock]

Installment One: The Island Beyond the Fog.

“Teleport to Engine Bay using the Aetherstep,” a couple Resistance members had said, “And you will be helped.” And I knew they wouldn’t lie – they were good friends of mine. So when a menacing, middle-aged man with a bald head, fog-tinted goggles, and a grotesque scowl (and an even more grotesque smile) approached me, I assumed that he was my help, and the pair of Automatons by his side made up a sort of welcoming committee.

A rushed, and rather stupid, assumption if you ask me.

I told him I was looking for the Resistance, and asked if he could help.

“Resistance, eh?” he answered with a raspy chuckle, “I think you will need a lot of help, then.”

And before I knew it, the Automatons had me at gunpoint, watching my every move. A rope dug into my hands and wrists. My hasty feet threatened to burn up.

I was the prisoner of Zaul Grimm.

My mind buzzed, my wide eyes were darting everywhere, my brow was furrowed, and my breath came out in winded and terrified wheezes. Is this part of the plan? Please tell me this is part of the plan… I don’t think this is part of the plan…

As we passed through No Man’s Landing, I saw other people, old and young, scrambling every which way. A bubble formed around us in the crowd; we might as well have been a mob of skunks. From a distance, I saw Aethasians shaking their heads at me in pity. No light illuminated their eyes. No hope.

We rounded the corner, and I jumped at the sight of a girl around my age. She was stooped at a crate, busy crafting something, and occasionally glancing at Zaul and his posse.

Aislinn! Aislinn Mollisong! I gasped and almost shouted her name in greeting. But I hesitated. Because, Number 1: I’d probably receive some form of punishment, possibly a painful one, from Zaul or his Automatons; and Number 2: She wouldn’t recognize me anyways.

That’s the trouble with not being human, and having to wear a disguise.

I flashed her a fearful and wishful look even though I knew she didn’t see me.

---

And now…

“Appleclock, bring me the Technomite blueprints!”

“Yes, sir,” I say, turning on my heels and speed-walking down the wooden steps, back into the Engineer-forsaken mines, and toward the equipment room.

How long have I been here? Three days, isn’t it? It feels like weeks – even months, since I emerged from the Aetherstep and met Zaul. And now I am his assistant, as he calls it. Although I think “slave” is a more fitting word. Occasionally even a “scapegoat.”

I’m not treated too badly – I have my own room with a real bed (albeit a lumpy one with broken springs), I’m fed twice a day, and the Automatons don’t bother me too much.

But it’s definitely not what I had in mind.

Nevertheless, I continue working under Zaul. Faithfully. Blindly.

I figure I’d respect him as a leader, but above all, trust the Great Engineer that he’d provide me what I need. Anything from a rescue party, to the blessing of an extra meal or drink, to simply His presence.

Although, in this constant fog, constant dust, constant darkness, I’m often blind to that presence. I’m blind to any presence, in fact. Except that of Emperor Lucky, and his Automatons, and his henchmen, and fog.

Fog. My arch-enemy, my constant compadre. A mind-drainer, a blissful dream. A deadly storm, a safe haven. A prison, a sanctuary. There when I’m rising, there when I’m dozing.

Fog. Fog. Fog…

Back at the summit of the Isle, I approach the balding man. “Here you go, sir.”

Zaul snorts (an unrefined and rather impersonal way of thanking someone if I do say so myself), snatches the parchment from my hand, spreads it onto the crafting table, and studies it for a few moments.

My eyes drift eastward, and fall upon a shape barely visible in the dense fog. Another island: My second home. I sigh and my grim face softens as I reminisce about my times there.

No fog. No Usurper. No Automatons.

Beautiful weather, fertile soils, deep green pastures, rolling hills, blazing sun, abundant life.

“APPLECLOCK!”

I jump and my eyes snap open. “Y-yes, sir.”

“Pay attention, girl! We’re not here for fresh air.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” I'm not sorry.

Zaul slams an oily finger onto one of the many sophisticated drawings. “Six animus servos. Stat!”

“Yes, sir.” I willingly leave Zaul’s side and begin setting out the required parts on a different crafting table.

Building: My favorite part of the job. It’s something to do with my hands. It’s a direction to channel my agony. It’s something to focus on other than fog.

As I carefully construct the servos, my mind drifts back to that distant island and frolics there. Why did I leave there? I ask myself.

My hands suddenly sting and burn. I stop building.

“Go on, what are ye waiting for, eh?!”

“Sorry, sir,” I mutter insincerely. My hands resume, but they are now clammy and damp. The wonder in my face peters, and the grimness moves back in.

Why am I here?

[Peregrine_Appleclock]

Installment Two: Glass Shard in my Heart.

A week marches by. That’s seven days of nothing. No life, no animation, no color other than the green of the fog and the muted gray/brown of the dust tinting my skin, hair and glasses. Seven days of sheer hopelessness and emotionlessness seeping into my heart, turning it to stone, and shutting down the life that it had brought with it onto Aethasia from the Other Island.

To think that I was certain that this was a country of Resistance, of hope, of blazing passion. As I push a cart of fogrocks down a dusty corridor, I scoff dryly at the fact that my friends have betrayed me.

My heart is that of stone, but upon the word “betrayed” running through my mind, a puncture forms. It’s a tiny one, like the kind you get from stepping on a minuscule shard of glass almost without knowing it, until you look down at your feet and see that you’re bleeding. It doesn’t matter, I think to myself, “wiping away the blood”, so to speak, No one would recognize me enough to care. Unless I shapeshifted…

Shoveling fresh, moist fogrocks into my cart now, I fiddle passively with the idea of shapeshifting into my true form and baffling Zaul Grimm. My face contorts into a heartless smile as I imagine the look on his face, the Automatons advancing on me, the confused yells, bleeps, alarm blasts and roars of the boiling mêlée… Things that would have scared me if I weren’t Zaul’s assistant, if my mind weren’t blinded by the fog.

I grimace at the sound of an Excavator around the corner, drilling away at the mine walls, unearthing green-veined stones. Fogrock: the ruler of the air. The buried treasure that Zaul and the Usurper seek. The reason I am here. The reason I am serving the Usurper.

My stone heart suddenly shudders. The shovel slips from my hands, as the stinging, burning sensation once again accumulates in them. Serving the Usurper. Serving the Usurper. And all the while, praying to the Great Engineer. Praying as if I were in a faraway country, writing a letter to a loved one back home. A shallow sob heaves my ribs.

The distance… The distance…

A Minion nearby chirps and approaches me inquisitively. I scoop the shovel back up and resume my work, squinting warily at the Automaton, which, seeing that I had “come to my senses,” turns around and marches like a duckling back down the path, dematerializing behind the dense fog. The emotion on my face disappears as speedily as it had come.

---

“Assistant Appleclock is now required to withdraw to quarters.”

I blink wearily and emotionlessly at the Pacifier who had interrupted my work. I can only half see it behind the grime on my glasses and the strands of greasy hair veiling my forehead.

Shift is over, I realize idly.

I mechanically make the finishing touches to the fiftieth-or-so fog condenser and rise to my numb feet. I walk steadily to my quarters, listening intently to the clunk, clank, clunk, clank, of the Pacifier’s footsteps behind me. Thanks for the company, I think sarcastically, wrinkling my nose.

I breathe a long sigh upon approaching the low tunnel leading into my room. I stiffly nod to the Automaton for it to leave, and duck into the tunnel.

I am now in a compartment the size of a scullery with walls of stone. A fog-contaminated air vent on the ceiling is the only opening other than the door. A pile of wood and nails dubbed “chairs” stand at the rear of the room. To my left is an insect-infested mattress, a patched scratchy bedspread, and a couple half-used candles. And to my right sits a rusty chest filled with a couple changes of clothes. Home Sweet Home…

I kick off my worn boots and collapse noisily onto the bed. I dig my face onto my “pillow,” a knot of cloths. Mmmmmphmrlffhwrrrmmmmmffffffff… I roll over and my hand instinctively reaches out and takes a small picture frame from beside the bed. I hold it in front of my eyes and wait for them to pay attention.

The photo, taken not so long ago, was of me in my true form, another girl, a man wearing a crown, and a dragon. I stare at myself in passive awe.

Look at the hair glistening in the blinding Sun, and the eyes clear and intelligent. Look at that huge, fanged smile on my face. It’s been so long since I’ve smiled like that. And the smiles of everyone else. How… jubilant and carefree we look. No fog. No Automatons. No Zaul.

My stone heart aches, creaking against the prison of the smothering fog. I shouldn’t have come here. I shouldn’t have come here. What… what were they thinking, sending me into this wasteland? How could they be so wrong, and so dishonest?

These are questions I have asked every night for seven nights now. But tonight is different. The Glass Shard in my heart is still there. I’m still bleeding. More than ever.

Betrayed. I have been betrayed. They betrayed me. Tricked me into serving the Usurper. Serving… the Usurper…

The suppressed rage finally escapes through my lungs in a sob, and before I know it, my pillow rags are damp with fresh tears.

I weep for a long time, letting seven days of no emotion spill freely from my eyes. I touch my face, and it feels smooth from where the tears washed away the grime. I strategically weep onto my glasses, washing them as well. All the while I’m whispering, Engineer, help me. Engineer, help me! Help me! HELP ME!!!

---

At least an hour later, my candles are blown out. The picture with me and the girl and the king and the dragon is invisible in the impregnable darkness. I am lying in a ball under the covers, on the verge of sleep. My face and neck are damp from tears and clean of dirt, and my blinking eyes are dry and glazed over. My brain is still repeating the words: Engineer, help me… Engineer, help me… I need you. This can’t go on… I need you close. Close…

Somehow I know He is listening. But I’m still looking for Him, wandering in the dark, my hands outstretched. He’s out there somewhere, calling my name, calling me away from the fog, away from Zaul’s clutches, away from the endless, hopeless, useless toil.

That question, “Why am I here?” changes from “Why am I here, and not back in paradise?” to, “Why am I here, still enslaved by the Usurper and his subjects, and by my own fear? Why aren’t I doing something? Why won’t that beastly fire that I know and treasure burn again?”

As my eyes flutter shut, and I drift to sleep, my last thought is: It’s time I did something different.

[Peregrine_Appleclock]

Installment Three: Proof

Unfortunately, even with clean(er) glasses, it’s still hard to see through all the fog. But my face feels much better after having been rinsed by that tearful fit last night. I feel quite refreshed, albeit a bit ridiculous at how melodramatic I was.

But that doesn’t necessarily help the situation: I’m stuck in the mines, forced to work for Zaul and the Usurper (shudder), and I have no plan.

It doesn’t help that I’m not the best planner. It’s hard being impulsive.

“Sir, the next shipment of Pacifiers has arrived,” I say between grunts of exhaustion after having pushed a cart of partial automatons up the slope to the summit of the isle.

Zaul rubs his hands together, grinning that ghastly grin. “Excellent!” he cackles, “We could use more of them! I keep hearing reports of someone destroying our automatons. Over and over again! Ooh, if I can get my hands on the culprits… What’re you smirking at?! Wipe that grin off your face, Appleclock!”

“Sorry, sir.” My smirk softens, but doesn’t leave my face. “My mind wandered a little.”

“‘Wandered?’ ‘Wandered,’ she says!” He scoffs, then suddenly steps forward and grabs my hand. I hear an automaton guard approach us from behind me.

Oh, brilliant, Peri, what a brilliant thing to say in front of the overseer of— A flash of pain on my wrist interrupts my thoughts. Zaul grins at the sound of my crying out. “That should give you something to think about instead, don’t you think?”

I clench my teeth and try to hold back the surfacing tears. I glance at the pacifier by my side. The knife built into its arm is exposed, its tip tinted red.

Zaul jerks my arm, nearly causing me to fall. “Behave, little girl, or you get another spanking, understand?”

I nod, glaring shakily at him. He throws down my arm. “Now get back to work!”

“Yes, sir,” I murmur, and descend the stairs promptly.

---

“I keep hearing reports of someone destroying our automatons. Over and over again!”

I smirk again upon that statement running through my head as I wrap a cloth around my wounded arm in my quarters.

I don’t know how much the townspeople hate the automatons, nor how skilled they are at dispatching them. But the fact that so many automatons have been dispatched that Overseer Grimm has taken notice, fascinates and inspires me.

This is how I know that the Resistance isn’t dead. It’s out there, doing everything it can to stop the Usurper’s influence, even if it means scrapping automatons. I have not been betrayed.

I finish tying off the bandage and sigh in this rare moment of satisfaction. Praise the Great Engineer for such devout disciples, and ready revolutionaries.

I emerge from my quarters, and walk to the next supply cart with a subtle spring in my step.

Who cares what Zaul thinks of my smile?

[Peregrine_Appleclock]

Installment Four: An Intriguing Visitor

Unfortunately, smiles and good times never last long in the mines. Within half an hour, my brain is foggy and vacant once again. At least I have a little warm glow of comfort knowing that there is a Resistance at work. Now I can cheer-lead them in silence, and pray for them. I know they will make an impact on Aethasia and the Usurper.

As for me, well, I’m not sure. I’m still stuck here without a plan. I sort of wish I had the patience and diligence to make one. But it’s not easy since automatons watch my every move, and Zaul always had something for me to do, and disobeying anything he says is most definitely a mistake.

Working here is incredibly draining, and deprives me of inspiration. It would take an interruption or irregularity of some sort to… do something. I don’t know yet, but it has to be something. Because I really can’t keep up the exact same draining, fatiguing and agonizing routine over… and over… and over again…

Suddenly I know how Janner Wingfeather felt when he was in the Fork Factory. Bless his soul…

Anyway, so now the question is:) Exactly what would it take to ignite a zealous fire in me, or at least help me map out an escape plan…?

“Hello.”

I blink and my eyes widen in intrigue at the new voice, but I don’t look up from my work.

“What might you be doing?”

I furrow my brow as I delicately insert a minuscule screw into a socket. “Mmm…? You… talking to me?” I murmur.

“Indeed. You are the only person in this chamber.”

Interesting voice! It’s prodding, yet soothing. It’s exactly the kind of voice that could seduce the skeptical, or calm the insane. Or both!

I still don’t look up, but I put down my screwdriver. “I’m making a fog-compressing apparatus.” Why did I just tell him that?! He’s a stranger!

A rustling noise, and then a shadow on the corner of the table. “I see,” says the voice, just above my head.

Oh great, he’s looking over my shoulder. I suppress an annoyed groan.

“Don’t you think you should be using a size 40 screw instead of a size 30?”

“No, that wouldn’t fit.” I reply with clenched teeth. Go away…

“On the contrary, it’s much more helpful! Especially when screwed into this size socket.”

“I’m fine. May I finish this on my own? Please?”

“Try it! It wouldn’t hurt.” A gloved hand places a screw on the table. It’s slightly longer than the ones I’m using. I Hmmmph, and insert the screw into the socket, and start carefully twisting it in with the screwdriver. It’s not going to work, it’s not going to work, it’s not going to—

PPSSSSSSSHHHHH! Fog spews out the socket. I drop the compressor and choke.

“SEE?! It’s ruined!” I growl, turning to the voice, “And now I have to make an entirely new compressor! Let me do it on my own, please.”

Although it doesn’t immediately show in my protest, I’m thrown off my the figure’s bright red cloak. Its contrast to the green fog is intense, and so is the way he’s gazing at me as I lose my temper.

“I think it’s all right. In fact I know it’s all right.”

“I could… report you, you know.” I hate this. I’m not the type to call someone out like that, no matter how annoying they are. Besides, his voice is so eloquent and fascinating…

“You could, but it wouldn’t stop me. Listen, Peregrine…”

“How do you know—??”

“Listen. I want you to answer this question: Why did you come to Aethasia?”

Heh. I literally ask that question EVERY night before I go to sleep. “I think it was to see friends.”

“And assist them on their Resistance work, right?”

He knows about the Resistance! Oooh, this guy is creepy… “Um, yes, I suppose.”

“And what are you doing here in the mines?”

Isn’t it obvious?? “Working… for Zaul.”

“Why?”

That’s also obvious, isn't it?! “He captured me at Engine Bay… Why are you asking all these questions?”

“Because I know you trust me. And it’s necessary that you do so, too.”

I wrinkle my nose skeptically, yet deep inside, I am strongly compelled to trust him. I have no idea why. Perhaps it’s the rich red cloak, conspicuous in the pale, green fog. Or perhaps it’s his hypnotizing voice, or his calm posture, or his eloquent words… Or all of the above!

“Remember, Peregrine,” the red figure continues, “You set foot on Aethasia to become a member of the Resistance. So why aren’t you yet?? Here, give this to Zaul.” He produces a folded piece of paper with a scarlet seal from a coat pocket and hands it to me. “Don’t read it. Deliver it straight to Zaul, and then leave. Tell him it’s from a messenger.”

Flustered from a bombardment of information and emotions, I receive the letter. I gaze at it for a little bit, and then look up and start to speak.

But he’s gone.

I stare at the spot where he was a few seconds ago, and bite my lip. What was all that about? Who was he??

I look back at the table and sigh at the punctured fog-compressing apparatus. If Zaul finds out about this, there no telling what he’d do… I promptly deconstruct the compressor, and start to rebuild it with a couple new parts (like a proper screw), but midway through, I freeze. My eyes slide back to the folded paper, its scarlet seal almost lustrous against the fog.

“You set foot on Aethasia to become a member of the Resistance. So why aren’t you yet??”

I put down the compressor and shake my head to try to clear out the troubledness that was filling my mind. Must you stick another glass shard into my life, mister?

I find myself holding the letter and inspecting it closely. What is it about this letter? What is it about its deliverer that leaves me with an impulse to do something?

I smile again. The irregularity. I have to take advantage of it. Against any fears of punishment, I stand up and leave the chamber to deliver the letter to Zaul, abandoning the already-leaking fog-compressing apparatus.

In a way, thank the Great Engineer for that man.

[Peregrine_Appleclock]

Installment Five: The Red-Capped Intruder

“A message?!”

“Yes, sir. A man told me to give it to you.”

“A man? In the mines?? The automatons would’ve found him first!”

“I have no idea how he got in, sir. I apologize.”

“Oghhh, blast it! Where is he now?”

“I don’t know, sir. He disappeared after he handed me the parchment.”

Zaul growls and grinds his nails on a rock furiously. “Oh, forget him.” He snatches the parchment from my outstretched hand, yanks free the scarlet seal, tears open the letter, and furrows his brow as he begins to read it.

I stand in front of him watching his face intently, wondering if Zaul would find the letter as fascinating as I find its deliverer to be. But after a few moments he glances up at me and hollers, “What are you waiting for, get back to work?! No need to wait to be dismissed!”

Aww, man! I turn around and walk out the chamber. Oh, well…

---

Okay, NOW WHAT?! I dimly growl to myself. I’ve delivered the message. I’ve obeyed the red cloak guy, but NOW what am I supposed to do, just keep making more fog compressors?? I pick up a just-finished apparatus and wrinkle my nose at it. This feels so wrong for some reason…

“Overseer Grimm requires your presence,” barks a Pacifier behind me. I promptly stand up and follow the automaton back to Grimm’s chamber.

I make an odd little smile. Maybe he’ll tell me what the letter says…

---

A telescope.

Zaul Grimm wanted me to bring him... a telescope.

Whatever for, I’m not very sure. He did say something about mine expansions. But needless to say, I was, and still am, pretty amused at his peculiar little request.

A sound echoes down the rocky corridor. I pause.

The sound of a gunshot.

An automaton’s voice: “You are not authorized to be here. Please halt for interroga--”

SIZZLE! CLANK! THUD!

An intruder?! I widen my eyes and jog toward the sound. I turn the corner and freeze in my tracks. There, in the middle of the pathway, lies a destroyed, smoking Pacifier, and standing above it is a young woman, a sizzling, sparking hammer contraption in her hand. She sees me, and smiles. “Hi there!”

I cock my head and blink in surprise. “Um… hello.”

“Are you okay? You look as though you’ve never seen a Tesla hammer before!”

“I… As a matter of fact I don’t think I have.”

“Really? Well, now you have.” She winks and tucks a lock of dark wavy hair behind her ear.

Wait… I’ve seen this girl before. What’s her name again? “What are you doing here in the mines?” I ask.

“Clearing out the automatons, of course!”

I raise my eyebrows at how frank her answer was. Does she know who I am?? “I… see that! I think you get in trouble for it…” I find myself looking at the badge on her red cap. Wonder what R.A. stands for…

The girl laughs. “Aww, I’ve done it at least twice before and have always gotten away with it. You should try it sometime!”

I still can’t remember her name… Blasted fog making me forget things… “Me?! Ohhhhhh, I don’t think so…” I cringe. I’m supposed to turn in intruders to Zaul or one of the boss automatons where they’d be imprisoned, picked up and taken to the Fogworks. And here I am letting one talk to me! What would Zaul think if he caught us?

The girl chuckles. “I’m Iliara! What’s your name?”

Ohhh, yeah! I’m almost tempted to tell her my real name, but I decide against it. Instead, I straighten my back and put on a calm, steady voice, and reply, “I am assistant Appleclock. I work for Overseer Zaul Grimm.”

Her smile disappears and she stares at me warily. She takes a step back. “Um… oh… well…”

What are you waiting for, Appleclock, apprehend her! Make Zaul proud!

No, this is wrong. This is evil.

There are punishments for disobedience!

Not Iliara… Not Iliara!

“Um,” I stammer, “I’m… not going to hurt you. Or… turn you in or anything…”

Iliara’s knuckles whiten as she grips her hammer. “You’re-you’re not?”

“No. Pacifiers are easily replaceable. And to be honest…” I lean towards her and lower my voice, “…I’m not so fond of automatons either.”

Iliara chuckles nervously.

“But,” I continue, taking a step towards her, “If I were you, I’d leave the mines. I know you said you’ve gotten away with taking out all the automatons before, and I believe you. I really do. But if Zaul sees me talking to you… You know…”

“I understand.” she grins. “Thank you for your mercy!”

I smile affectionately.

“Well, until we meet again, Miss Appleclock.”

“Peregrine. See you later, I guess.”

“I hope so! Maybe even in the Resistance one day.”

My heart flips. “The Resistance…?”

“YES! The Resistance! Rebels against Lucky, the Usurper. Automaton-destroyers, and devout and hopeful believers of the Great Engineer!” As she says this, she pulls off her cap. At the word “Engineer,” she tosses it into my hands. I look down at the R.A. badge, rubbing its gold and red, fine silky surface with my thumb.

Iliara walks back the way she came, twirling her Tesla hammer cheerfully, and disappears around the corner.

I stare at the spot where she just was, struggling to process what I saw and all my feelings. I look back down at her red cap, and then at the broken Pacifier at my feet. Its normally-glowing eyes are extinguished. Its chest is dented and blackened.

It’s the most satisfying thing I have seen all month.

Still. I can’t have Zaul or the other automatons seeing this. Not yet.

---

As I drop the last few Pacifier bits off the cliff (after having scavenged some other bits of my own), I feel something else. I’ve felt that feeling before, but I can’t put my finger on it.

My mind wanders, once again, to the red-cloaked man’s words:

“Remember, Peregrine, you set foot on Aethasia to become a member of the Resistance. So why aren’t you yet?”

Ahh, yes. That feeling: Peer pressure.

[Peregrine_Appleclock]

Installment Six: What Does the Future Hold?

I start wearing Iliara’s hat at all times as I work. Why? Well number one: It’s fashionable and rather cute. And number two: It’s a constant reminder of the Resistance, the red-cloaked guy, and my only hope. What that hope is, exactly, I couldn’t tell you, but it is hope. It’s hope for sure, in this hopeless world of fog and dust.

At first Zaul was a little thrown off by my newfound accessory, but it didn’t take long for him to get used to it. To him, it’s just a hat that I must have found somewhere in the corridors.

But to me, it’s something much, much more.

---

Four days after my encounter with Iliara, I enter Zaul’s rickety office to find him hunched over a few dozen photographs. Probably photographs of the surrounding land on the Isle, or maybe even on the main land. It helps him plot out future mining sites.

I clear my throat. “Sir?”

“What??” he returns with a gruff and irritated voice, not looking up from the photographs.

“The gate to the Greenshade Caverns is disabled again.”

“Oooh, confound it…!!!” He bangs his fist on the table, causing the photographs to flutter in the air. “Have you checked the fog containment tanks?”

“Yes, sir. Full to the brim.”

“Oough!! I don’t understand it…” He sighs and mutters something indecipherable as he starts to pace the room. “Well, station a couple automatons at the entrance until I can get the blasted thing to work again.”

“Right, sir. And one more thing.”

Zaul glares at me and raises an eyebrow. “Yes??”

“May I ask what was in that letter a few days ago?”

He raises his eyebrows, and, to my complete surprise, smirks. “The future, Appleclock, the future.” He gestures excitedly to the photos on the table. “New land. Fertile, ideal, practically untouched. The perfect place for the Emperor to spread his Empire.”

I catch myself as I start to scowl with annoyance. “Where is the new land?”

“Not far from Aethasia at all! An airship could easily fly there and not use up even half its fuel.”

My heart starts pounding. “Is it inhabited?”

“According to the automaton scouts, yes. But not to worry, Emperor Lucky will make them a deal that they can’t resist!”

I take a step forward to peer at the photographs, but I don’t get very far. “Now hurry and give the excavators a hand. We’ve fogrock to mine, and new automaton troops to power and send to the land!” He raises his booming voice so much that the ground vibrates, and I flee his office just to avoid my ears bursting.

An excavator had already unearthed a large pile of fogrock when I arrive at the mining site. Why does Zaul need me when he already has an efficient crew of automatons? I grumble as I begin shoveling heaps of moist, green stones into the cart. Maybe he yearns for a feeling of power, a feeling of superiority, over someone. Apparently mechanical men don’t cut it.

And here’s yet another reason I need to escape the mines: To rock Zaul and make him nervous. Hopefully Lucky will feel that same turbulence, too. I huff and smirk at the thought that a single, young, foreign slave girl could scare an Emperor.

The amusement shifts immediately to horror and worry as I recall my conversation with Zaul about the new land. According to him, it’s beautiful, fertile, inhabited, and relatively nearby.

All these adjectives also describe my second home. A home on which I had been living for only months, but with which I have fallen in love. Could Lucky be attacking… the Kingdom?

CLANG! The shovel falls to the ground and rings as its head hits the rocks. I look down at it, my tingling fists clenched, my wide eyes watering.

The excavator rattles and turns towards me. I promptly pick up the shovel, shoot a defiant glare at the automaton, and stomp away. Let it pick up its own rock. It’s not like it needs my help, anyways…

I burst into my quarters, drop the shovel and sit down on my bed. I prop my elbows on my knees and hold my head on my hands, letting the tears flow down my cheeks, and letting my hat slip to the ground. My mind is a swirling, dizzying cyclone.

But what if it’s NOT the Kingdom? What if it’s a different island? There are plenty of other islands near Aethasia, right? Aren’t there? Not as near as the Kingdom but… Ohhh, I’d rather Lucky raided Taranar than the Kingdom! After all, he’s tried Taranar many times already! Oh, Great Engineer, don’t let him get the Kingdom! Please!!

But he does.

---

The next day, I walk into Zaul’s office, and behold one of the most despicable, most horrifying and most heartbreaking sights of my life.

[Peregrine_Appleclock]

Installment Seven: Monsters. Beasts.

“Sir, the new Mega Drill shipment has arri—” I freeze in my tracks as I walk into Zaul’s office. He isn’t alone. He and two other figures, one standing and one tied to a chair, look up at me. I recognize the standing man immediately.

Emperor Lucky!!

He’s facing the man in the chair, gloved hands clasped behind his back. His grey hair is combed back and slick. His eyes are almost glowing a ghastly green. It’s hard to spot his pupils. He raises a dubious eyebrow at me. I feel myself whithering under his gaze. I have to keep myself from falling to my knees.

Zaul is standing behind the man in the chair with crossed arms and a stern face. In one hand he holds a small rod, sizzling with electricity. Probably a taser.

From the looks of it, the man in the chair has already taken a few touches from Zaul’s taser. His curly, chocolate brown hair is frazzled, his bearded face is shining with sweat, and his lively, youthful, brown eyes dance with what appears to be fear and confusion. His tunic is dirty, and his hip-long cape is ripped.

The King. I try to speak his name, but my breath is interrupted my a lump in my throat. My fears have been proven to be true. I stutter, and breathe, “W-What-What’s going on?”

Lucky smirks. “Well, well! Zaul, I didn’t know you hired an assistant!” His voice isn’t unlike that of a snake with its cool and somewhat wispy nature.

Zaul smirks and growls, “Yes, I did. A rather confused and turbulent one, she is.”

"She’s not bowing or kneeling to me, either, as other commoners do! Quite the admirable spirit.”

“Agreed.”

“Zaul, what’s going on?” I repeat with a trembling voice.

Zaul grins his hideous grin. “Appleclock, I’d like to thank you for building me that telescope the other day. It really helped me in my quest to find suitable land for Lucky’s ever-expanding Empire. Thanks to your efforts, we now have the leader of the new land in our possession!”

“Monsters…” I whisper, shaking my head at them.

“You, missy, are about to witness history,” declared Lucky with a smile that topped Zaul’s, “The people of the new land agree to hand it to us, and this scrawny urchin of a king returns alive. Otherwise, he is sent to Fogworks for the rest of his life, and we get his land, anyways.”

“Monsters!” I repeat, louder.

“Mister, please! What did we ever do to you or your country?!” the King exclaimed with a cracking voice.

“Nothing,” replies Lucky, “I’m just an emperor looking to expand his empire. Simple, really.”

“Why don’t you take Taranar instead?” I hear myself blurt, “It’s closer and more convenient.” Seriously, Peri, you’d give your HOMELAND for the Kingdom?!

“I have tried. Over several years. But their army is exceptional; we’ve never been able to claim that land.”

I open my mouth to emphasize his power and strength, but I stop myself. Not only would I be praising Lucky, I’d also be betraying my birthplace even further.

“This land, small as it is, is poorly guarded, and much more fertile than that desert Taranar. Yes, it would make a perfect place to spread the fog, and expand the Fogworks.”

“No…” I clench my fists. Rage starts to boil in my limbs. I glance down at my trusty bracelet. Ready for action. I stand there and let the fury heat up.

Raw, beastly fury.

“Mister, please leave us alone! We’re a peaceful Kingdom, and we’d like it to stay that way!” The King’s face is red as a raspberry as he protests.

“Too late, your Majesty,” jeers the Emperor, “I’ve made up my mind. We will take your beautiful island!”

“No, you can’t—” He is cut off by a tap on the shoulder by Zaul’s taser. He cries out and grinds his teeth.

Something snaps. I swipe at my bracelet, and my eyes cloud green.

But not the green of the fog, the green of the BEAST.

With a mighty roar, I pounce.

---

After my shapeshifting, everything seems like a blur in my memory. All I know now, is that Zaul’s office is caved in with him and Lucky in it, many automatons in the mines are shredded to bits, the King is on a flight back to the Kingdom in a small, pre-programmed, autopilot airship, and I’m on the run.

Boy, when I have a temper tantrum, I have a temper tantrum…

I’m still in my Beast form. I’m too busy running, and trying to figure out what exactly happened, where I am, and which way the exit was to flick that switch on my shapeshifter bracelet back, and change back to human form.

In my inner confusion and mayhem I finally locate the stairs that lead to the beach, where a taxi boat is waiting for its (few) passengers.

I smile. As soon as I can get back to Aethasia and find the Resistance, I know I will be safe—

…

…

...

[Korey_Braziertoaster]

About a month after Peregrine’s escape…

---

Installment Eight: Adventure Awaits

I find myself staring out to the sea, at the boat that carried us here, shrinking into the distance. The last familiar thing I will ever see for a long time.

I pant like a fish out of water, and I feel my eyes watering from the wind and the emotion.

“Isn’t this exciting, Korey?” said Leina behind me, “Don’t you just want to explore the whole island?? Too bad we can’t travel the world more often!”

“Hmm,” is all I can say.

I wish I shared my sister’s love for adventure and excitement. It would certainly help for this test. I wouldn’t be surprised if I end up failing in the next few weeks in my utter fear and confusion. I’d have to send a letter to the Guardians, and they’d have to pick us up and sail us back to Efranya where we would be shamed by a crowd of a hundred disappointed and concerned citizens’ faces, where Leina and I would not become the promised, new Guardians, and where we would both have to face twelve more months of lecture and study.

All because of me.

I really don’t want to let my country down, be a burden, make the High Guardians change their plans, but I could see myself doing at least one of those items eventually.

I just want to go home. Where I’m loved and cared for, where I’m fed and taught, where the catwings and mulebirds would be there in the stables to comfort me.

I watch a falcon fly over out heads and think about Jan, my personal mulebird. Oh, how I miss feeding him carrots and walnuts every evening. How I miss running my fingers through his soft, fine and colorful feathers. How I miss—

“Korey!”

I blink and turn around to face my sister. “What?”

Leina sighs, rolls her eyes and asks, “I said shall we get started?”

“Oh! Oh, yeah, all right.” I hurriedly pick up a sack of supplies at my feet and follow Leina up the beach. I can feel my face turning red.

[Leina_Ratchetfun]

I adjust the pack on my shoulders as I start walking up the beach towards a small tunnel.

I have been looking forward to this test for two years, ever since Korey and I started training to be Guardians. At last, that day has arrived! To think that we are about to spend eight months in an exciting new place, meeting friends, exploring, camping out in a tent. It gives me shivers of excitement every time it crosses my mind.

And this place, Aethasia I believe it’s called, has some very promising sights from what I’d seen on the boat as we circled the island. Cities and towns abustling, mountains towering, hills and meadows, cliffsides, even snowy tundras; this place has it all!

Now if only my paranoid, little twin brother would keep up. “Korey! You back there?”

“Yeah, right behind you.”

“Good. Master Lans told us to set up camp at the Evergreen Meadows. Now where would that be…”

“I know he said that. I was there, too!”

“Juuuust reminding you,” I sigh, “Have the map?”

“I’m holding it right now,” Korey replies.

I stop and turn around to find Korey inspecting the map. I come up behind his shoulder and read it with him.

“So we’re here…” Korey lands his finger on a beach next to a sea labeled “Engine Bay,” “So we need to go up Bootleg Pass, skim the border of the town of No Man’s Landing…”

“…And turn south toward Evergreen Meadows!” I finish, grabbing the map from Korey’s hands and marching forward. Korey follows behind in silence.

I hope Korey gets accustomed to this place, I think to myself, He would find this much more enjoyable, and I would have more freedom to explore without making him mad.

[Peregrine_Appleclock]

Illustrations for The Appleclock Saga

Installment One. "My eyes drift eastward, and fall upon a shape barely visible in the dense fog. Another island: My second home."

Installment Five. "I look back down at her red cap, and then at the broken Pacifier at my feet... It’s the most satisfying thing I have seen all month."

[Korey_Braziertoaster]

Installment Nine: Back and Forth

As we walk past the sign reading “Welcome to NO MAN’S LANDING,” I brace myself for any and all people that may pester us. I wish Leina would slow her pace so I can catch my breath and process my feelings.

All too quickly the trees suddenly clear out, and we find ourselves standing in the middle of a street paved with dull, grey cobblestones. To our left are several docks harboring boats of all sizes. One boat is being loaded with hay barrels by two gruff men. As we walk, we are engulfed in a crowd of bustling townspeople, not dense enough that we’re shoulder to shoulder, but dense enough to suffocate young, lost folks like us.

Men are carrying bundles and boxes toward and away from the docks, women were cradling boxes of apples and crates of slashberry juice and the like. Everybody seems to know exactly where they were going. They turn every corner with set jaws and an empty yet determined look in their eyes.

They all look the same to me.

We finally manage to hack our way out of the worst of the crowd. We pause at the edge of the street and Leina pulls out the map. “We should be close to the passage way,” she shouted over the roar of the crowd.

I look to my right and see a path leading away from the docks. Nobody seems to be taking it. “That it?” I ask.

“No, that’s the Junkyard,” she answers with a hint of annoyance, “Oh great, I think we passed it. All right, let’s go back.

Personally, I’d rather not plunge back into the hot sea of jostling elbows and shoulders, but I take off anyway, keeping close to my headstrong sister. Because the only thing worse then plunging into that sea is plunging into that sea alone.

[Leina_Ratchetfun]

My throat rumbles in frustration that we had missed the path to the Evergreen Meadows, but at least we get to go back into the crowd. How exciting the crowd is! Look at all the different people. Look at what they carry, what they wear. What’s their story? Where do they come from? Do they have a family? What kind of jobs do they have? I shove past them with gusto and wonder.

Still, I’m relieved to escape the jostling crowd as my eyes fall on the passageway, canopied my tall trees with twisted limbs and pale green leaves. I start down the road with anticipation.

My brother’s trembling hand squeezes my shoulder. “Wait! Leina, wait! That’s not the way!”

I turn and wrinkle my nose at him. What does he think he’s talking about? “Of course it is! It’s on the map, see?” I poke the passageway on the map with my fingernail.

“But this road leads back to Bootleg Pass! We missed the right turn again!”

“We… We can’t have!”

“We did! See?” Korey points to the familiar “Welcome to NO MAN’S LANDING” sign that we had passed, and then at the docks, just adjacent to the path we are on.

He’s right, I realize with dread and frustration. My throat rumbles even harder. “Come on,” I mutter to my brother with clenched teeth and a cold glare, deliberately brushing his shoulder with mine.

Korey follows with a humble face, a face that agitates me. Why doesn’t he gloat and grin smugly like everybody else?

This time we keep as close to the south side of the road as possible, hoping to spot the passageway this time.

“HALT,” barks a muffled voice. Korey and I stop and turn around to behold a man… At least it looks like a man. Sort of. He’s covered in metal armor, and one of his eyes, glowering right at us, seems to be glowing green.

Korey tenses and clutches my arm, gazing at the man with wide, brown eyes. Don’t be such a baby… I command silently.

“Where is the heading of your travel?” drones the man. Although it doesn’t quite sound like a real man’s voice. It was metallic and practically monotone.

“Evergreen Meadows,” I answer calmly, brushing a ponytail off my shoulder, “Could you take us there?”

“Names?” commands the metal man instead.

“Leina Kil—” I recall reading a bit about Aethasia and laughing about the ridiculous last names of some of them. I decide to take advantage of my knowledge. “Leina… Ratchetfun” is the first name that formulates in my mind. “And this is Korey…” I look at my brother for a moment. “… Braziertoaster.”

In the corner of my eye I see Korey looking at me in confusion and disgust. I suppress a smirk.

“These names do not register in my citizen bank. Please stay where you are for interrogation.”

My heart jumps in fright and I tense. Now it’s my turn to cling to my brother. I grab his forearm and squeeze it in a death grip as the metal man marches closer.

A gunshot fires to our right and the metal man reels to one side. He steadies and turns toward the origin of the sound. A smoking hole can be seen in his chest.

“LEAVE ‘EM ALONE!” hollers a voice, and suddenly a young man breaks through the crowd, charging toward the metal man with a huge hammer in his hand. He swings the hammer with all his might and it hits home on the metal man’s neck. His head flies off the body and into the bushes, and the torso topples over.

The man with the hammer takes a deep breath, wipes a trickle of sweat from his forehead, then looks at us with a genial smile, “Hullo, guys! Sorry about the automaton. Got you out of nowhere, didn’t it?”

[Korey_Braziertoaster]

Installment Ten: The Hammer Man Shows the Way

Still squeezing Leina’s tense arm, I gawk at the young man who had just attacked and decapitated the strange armored man. He’s wearing an orange suit lined with fur, with a matching orange top hat. He stands up straight, swings the hammer onto his shoulder as if destroying armored men were but a routine, and flashes a smile at us. “Hullo, guys! Sorry about the automaton. Got you out of nowhere, didn’t it?”

“… Suppose it did,” replies Leina after a stunned moment or two.

I make the mistake of looking away from the man and at the crowd, and my stomach tightens. Eyes from all directions were trained on us. There’s nowhere to hide. This is exactly what I hoped would not happen. I inch closer to Leina like a toddler shying away behind his mother.

The man also seems to notice the attention. He takes a step toward us and lowers his voice. “You headed anywhere?”

“Evergreen Meadows,” replies Leina.

“I’ll escort you there. Follow me!” The man turns on his heel, shoves his hammer into a loop on his belt, and beckons for us to follow as he starts walking.

As it turns out, we kept missing the way to the Meadows because the bushes on either side of the path have been left untrimmed, obfuscating the path. The great crowds in No Man’s Landing didn’t help at all. I’m thankful we have help, and SO relieved to escape the many pairs of eyes making my arm hairs stand on end.

We walk down a dirt path in silence for a while. I sigh in relief as the sounds of the voices and footsteps of the townspeople peter and fade from my hearing.

“Anywhere in the Meadows in particular you’re looking for?” asks the hammer man.

“Nope, we were simply told to find and set up camp in the Meadows. Know of any good places to set up a tent? Maybe make a fire now and then?”

The hammer man pauses and put a hand on his chin. “Hmmm… How about on the banks of the river! You’d have to mind the insects, but the water is safe to drink, and it’s peaceful and quiet. A lot of wildlife hangs around there, too, so if you’re especially into nature, I know you’d like that!”

I beam at the mention of wildlife. Animals have always been my best friends. I love them with all my heart. It was clear when I was a child that my special Guardian ability would have something to do with animals. Abilities aren’t usually revealed or discovered until the Guardian trainee is in his teens, but my parents spotted it when I was just eight. I found the ability to communicate with animals of all kinds. I can’t really explain it, but I guess they just become more… “human” around me, allowing me to better understand them and vice versa. It’s really come in handy with the beastkeepers. The Guardians say that I should be wasting my time hanging around low-lives like beastkeepers, but not only do I love animals, but I love being helpful, too. Being wanted. Being useful.

“Here we are!” announces the hammer man. We had walked through rocky corridors, over steady hills, surrounded by plant-life of all shapes and sizes, and we are now on a more-or-less isolated piece of land. On one side is a giant wall of mossy rock, and on the other side is a slow-moving, placid river.

“Oh, this perfect,” exclaims Leina bouncing on her toes excitedly, “Thank you, mister!”

The man laughs. “Call me Christopher! Christopher Puddlevest. What are your names, by the way?”

“I’m Leina Kil— Ratchetfun, and this is Korey Braziertoaster.”

I glare at her again. ‘Braziertoaster.’ Why ‘Braziertoaster?’

“Pleased to meet you both! Are you new to Aethasia?”

“Yay*! We just arrived today. We were sent here by our Guardians. The goal is to practice survival skills and be resourceful. It’s required for the work we’re doing.”

“I see. Well, best wishes to both of you! And if you ever need any help, Buzz, Shep or Buck should be able to help you. They’re workers here in the Meadows. Hope to see you later!”

“Bye! Thank you!” Leina calls. I wave and smile, yearning to say something, but my sister keeps plucking then out of my mouth.

As Christopher disappears around the corner of the rocky cliff, Leina rocks on her feet and gives a wide smile, as she always does when she’s excited. “I’m glad this is off to a good start, aren’t you, Korey?”

“Yeah, I’m glad Christopher found us. He was great help,” I reply, relieved to hear my own voice for once.

“Yes, he was. Welp, let’s get the tent set up, shall we?”

“Yay.” I slip off my shoulder pack, and as it falls to the ground, I realize how heavy it had been. I flex and stretch my shoulders to loosen them, then begin pulling wooden poles from the pack.

---

*In Efranya, the country Korey and Leina are from, "yay" is a common equivalent of "yes."

[Korey_Braziertoaster]

OOC: ARGH! Wrong account! @Hanna_Brassheart Could you please delete the first one??

---

Installment Eleven: Hired

Needless to say, there is a notable difference between living in the Guardian house in Efranya, where one is well-fed and cared for by servants and well-educated by mentors, and camping in the wild in a tent with only a sibling and the nature for company. Leina and I are still getting used to the significant change in scenarios even a week after our encounter with Christopher and the metal man (called an “automaton,” as it turns out.

“Keep up, Korey! Can’t you go any faster??” calls Leina, several paces ahead of me.

“Yay, I’m coming,” I sigh. I stand up and, with one last gaze at the intriguing fern I had found on the side of the path, I proceed.

We can both agree with no question that nature walks are awesome, but it means something slightly different to her than it does to me. She doesn’t bother to take in details in little bits like I do.

“Why’re you walking so slowly?” she asks with her arms crossed.

“I’m looking at nature, of course.”

Leina rolls her eyes with a disgruntled sigh. “You know, I wish we weren’t opposites.”

“You go on ahead, Leina. Don’t let me slow you down.”

“Actually, I wanted to tell you something that I forgot to mention earlier.”

So much for a soothing, quiet stroll in the country. “Yes?’

“The three brothers who work here in the Meadows? They hired me!”

I stop walking and my eyes widen. This is new. “What for?”

“I’ll be delivering honey, wool and milk to the Business District, north of here. It’s a mile walk!”

“Huh…” I respond, trying to take in the news.

“They’re paying me, too. Five coppers a load. We’ll be able to afford supplies! Oh, and guess what, Shep and Bucky are talking about hiring you, too!”

My brain struggles to keep up with her rushed talking. When it gets to the part about hiring me, my eyes pop open. “What?? Me, deliver?”

“No not to deliver, to help tend the alpacas and cows! Bucky and Shep would like extra pair of hands, and I told them you were good with animals.”

I stare at her puzzledly, “All right, but… when would I start?”

---

“This ‘ere is Bessy and Clarabelle. They my cows, and I don’ want you treatin’ ‘em like mere beasts, hear?”

I nervously bite my tongue and nod at Bucky. I’m still struggling to process the situation. One moment, I’m walking with my sister down a placid trail, and the next moment I’m getting a job. Sometimes I wish Leina weren’t so impulsive… But at least I get to deal with animals.

“You’ve milked cows before right?” Bucky raises an eyebrow at me dubiously.

“Yes, I did it quite a bit at my homeland.”

“Good. Sensible kid. Now, Bessy is a fine cow. She shouldn’ give you much trouble. But Clarabelle here is a stubborn one. I’ve milked ‘er a good plenty times, and she still wallops me!” He grins and points to his temple, swollen and red. He’s obviously taken a recent beating. “Good luck, son!”

“Thanks,” I reply slowly, eying the cows suspiciously, “So, I’m starting now?”

“’Course you are, son! Grab a pail and get to it!” He leans on a fence post and watches me smugly, probably hoping he’ll get a show out of Clarabelle and me.

We’ll see about that, I think to myself as I grab a pail and approach Bessy. I’ve handled many creatures, great and small, ferocious and tame, and I’ve gotten through with the lot of them thanks to my powers. I hope the effect applies on Aethasia as well as Efranya.

I look into Bessy’s eyes and start whispering, “Hullo, Bessy. I’m Korey. You’re a beautiful one. Don’t worry, I’m a friend. Be calm, be calm…” I stroke her long, brown mane, never breaking the eye contact. I sigh with satisfaction as I feel the emotion in the cow. She’s wary, yet trusting and understanding. Just what I expect in a new animal acquaintance. She doesn’t flinch as I get down on my knees, crawl between her legs and begin to harvest her milk.

In no time at all, I fill one-and-a-half buckets. I inch back out from under her and stroke her neck. “Good lady,” I breathe with an affectionate smile.

I grab two more buckets and face Clarabelle, who is already eying me warily. She snorts and paws her hoof on the ground. Her horns are aimed right at my pounding heart. Ignoring Bucky’s giggling behind me, I approach the cow. I gaze straight into her eyes and early on began whispering, “Hullo, Clarabelle. I’ll be your milker today. Now don’t worry, I won’t hurt you, love.” I mean it with all my heart.

Clarabelle moos gruffly and prances in her spot. Her eyes are wild and protesting. I put down the buckets and extend my hand to her nose, a foot away. “You be a good lady, all right? Surely you can manage that.”

The cow hesitates long enough for me to rest my hand on her nose. I feel a wave of fright as soon as I make contact. She brushes my hand off and, to my surprise, bites my fingers.

I don’t pull back my hand, but I toss my head upwards and give a soundless cry of pain. Bucky’s giggles intensify. I rub my fingers and take a deep breath, ridding any frustration building in my heart. If there’s one thing that I have learned about dealing with animals, it’s to not let them see or feel strong emotion in their caretakers. Again, I extend my hand to her, but I don’t touch her. “Come on, lady. I know you’ve got it in you. It won’t take long. Just trust me. And trust Bucky.”

Little by little, the wildness disappears from her eyes. In a few moments, she is sniffing my hand curiously. Bucky’s giggling ceases.

It takes several minutes of stroking, whispering, and even some singing, but I somehow find myself under Clarabelle’s legs without a scratch on me, save for my bruised fingers. When I finish, I get up and pat Clarabelle gently. “Good lady. I knew you had a sense of trust in you. Now you be good for Bucky, all right?” She responds with a dip of the head and a hoarse moo.

I turn to Bucky and have to keep myself from bursting out laughing. He’s giving me the queerest look, one bushy eyebrow raised, his wide, amber eyes dancing with intrigue, his lips pursed.
“Well! You seem to know how t’ take care‘v yourself, son.”

I smile warmly. “Thank you. You have some fine cows, Mister Bucky.”

“Enough with the ‘Mister!’” he explodes with laughter, “Now, go take care of Shep’s llamas over there, will ya?”

“That’s alpacas!!" hollers Shep from behind a line of tree. Bucky laughs even harder.

---

The alpacas were even more touchy than the cows. When I approached the pen, Shep was chasing them all over the place with a large shearing tool in his fist. His face was red, his eyes bulged and he was hollering at the alpacas passionately. After a lot of whistling, gesturing, whispering and scratching, I manage to get them to settle down. Shep was impressed.

Now, cows milked, alpacas sheared, and five rusty coins in my pocket, the work for the day is done. I take a deep breath of the fresh air and smile. I could get used to this life.

The Sun has passed well under the tree line. It’s early evening, and time to prepare supper. Leina and I have been living off fish and sea flower stew from the river, berries and fruits from the foliage in the Meadows, milk from the cows and the occasional snack that Christopher brings when he comes to visit. Kind chap.

By the time Leina arrives after delivering her shipment, fish is cooking over the fire, and we sit by it, munching on berries and sharing our adventures and misadventures.

I could get used to this place. As long as nothing changes, of course.

[Leina_Ratchetfun]

Installment Twelve: The Urchins

~~ Twenty minutes before Korey begins his work~~

I jog toward the Meadows’ entrance like a little girl on her way to her favorite playground, skinpack bouncing against my back. For the hundredth time, I mentally scan the packing list. Did I forget anything? I’ve got water, snacks, small bandage, map, lantern, mask. . . Yep. Yay, I’ve got everything!

I turn the last corner and behold Buzz standing in the middle of the path, one hand in his pocket, the other stroking his beard, sticky with honey. Beside him is a wheeled, wooden cart about three feet tall, containing jugs, jars, sacks and small boxes.

I stop in front of him and pant, “Reporting for duty!”

“’Ey there, busy bee! You look just about ready.”

“Yup, I’m so ready!” I reply, rocking my feet back and forth.

“Right. You’re delivering everything in this wagon here. Jugs contain Buck’s milk, Sacks and boxes contain Shep’s wool, and most importantly, these glass jars hold my prized bees’ sweet honey! Be careful with these jars! Don’t jostle them too much or they might shatter. A drop of honey out of its jar and you’re done for. Got that?”

“Yes, sir!” I say with a grin.

“Good. Now, I’ve met someone who can help you find your way, and give you more instructions.”

A helper! A guide! They could show me Aethasia! They could help me experience its greatest beauties first-hand! My feet are now so restless that I start bouncing instead of rocking.

Shep beckons to someone behind him, and slowly, stiffly, a young woman approaches. She’s lanky and pale, and very tall, only half a foot shorter than Shep. Strands of jet-black hair obfuscate one of her dark brown eyes. Her lips are pale and look as though they’re glued together. Her dress is simple, yet fashionable, mostly black with velvet green highlights.

“This,” continues Shep, “Is Azeline Darkheap. She will show you around No Man’s Landing, specifically the Business District. Azeline, this is Leina.”

“Hello!” I wave at my new helper and smile as best as I can. Her cold nature dampens my excitement a little.

Azeline peers down at me with a cool, emotionless gaze and nods her head in greeting. “A pleasure,” she murmurs.

“Now,” says Shep, “I must go back to tend my bee farm. Good luck, Leina! All yours Azeline.” He brushes past me with long, quick strides and rounds the corner, out of my sight.

A sigh from Azeline brings my eyes back to her. “Right,” she says, “Let’s begin. Bring your cart.” She swiftly turns around and starts down the path to No Man’s Landing.

I find with relief that it doesn’t take too much energy to push the cart, and eventually I’m keeping up with Azeline’s brick pace.

Throughout the journey, my guide doesn’t say much, except to point out which path to take in a fork in the road, where automatons are usually stationed, and a couple reminders to not give urchins the produce, or let them steal it.

I spot several urchins on our trek, young and old, watching us wheel by, playing a crude version of football*, chasing each other, fighting over an uneaten morsel of food, and/or napping in a pile of rags. And all of them are dirty, with ragged clothing and greasy hair. I straighten my back so my skinpack doesn’t stick out as much, lest a snoopy pair of hands pull it open and take my dried fish bits. I bite my tongue and try not to feel sorry for these youngsters. Troubled questions leak into my mind.

*(Americans: “Soccer” football, not our football.)

“Keep up. Don’t stare,” comes Azeline’s voice.

I tear my eyes from the urchins and push my cart harder. I catch up with Azeline and ask, “Why are there so many of them??”

She never slows down, but answers with downcast eyes, “They took their parents.”

“Who did? The urchins?”

“Don’t you know? The Empire, of course. Turned them into automatons.”

My jaw goes limp as I recall the armored man that had approached Korey and me on our first day here. Christopher had called it an “automaton." That automaton. . . used to be a regular person. Used to be a father or mother. And this “Empire” took them. . . and left behind their children, helpless, hungry, poor. . .

My grip on the wagon slackens, and I slow down almost to a stop. What kind of “Empire” is this? Why did they have to ruin such a beautiful land with such immorality?

“Keep up! You’ve got work to do!” Azeline’s piercing voice once again jerks me out of my shock and I shove the wagon back into motion. “Sorry,” I mutter, trailing behind her.

“Now,” continues Azeline, “We should be leaving the poorest part of town now. Then begins the Business District. Take a right. . .”

I follow Azeline and her pointing fingers and directing voice carefully, taking note of every turn. It isn’t long before the the first shop looms into view. "THE HONEY TRAP.”

A man leans over the counter from inside and exclaims, “WELL, IT’S ABOUT TIME!”

“Delivery!” I respond with a cheerful voice, “I understand you take honey?”

“Only the finest! And my cousin-once-removed’s honey is no exception.”

“Buzz is your cousin?”

“My cousin-ONCE-REMOVED. You new to this job?”

“Yep!” I say as Azeline and I start loading honey jars onto the counter top, “I started working in the Meadows, delivering goods to the Business District.”

“Tough job, finding your way around this place.”

“Oh, I can manage!” I smile and slide the last jar to the shopkeeper.

“Thank ya very much for your kind delivery! What might your name be?”

“Leina Ratchetfun. Oh, and this is Azeli—”

“He knows me,” interrupts Azeline, “I used to deliver for him, too.”

“Yes,” adds the shopkeeper, “A few years ago, until she quit and j—”

“I was tired of going back and forth all the time. I’m. . . pleased for you, Mister Tony, that you have someone more. . . enthusiastic to help.” Never once does Azeline give a sign of emotion as she talks to the shopkeeper.

“Yes, I hope she serves well for a long time,” replies the shopkeeper with a nod. Then to me, “I’m Mister Tony, by the way! Thank you again for delivering the honey!”

“Of course!”

“Now run along and deliver the rest of your trinkets. Mister Remy and Mister Jake will be pleased to see you. Do be careful of Remy, though. . . He’s especially feisty.”

“’Kay, thanks!”

“See ya next time!” Mister Tony greets with a wave.

---

Feat. @Azeline_Darkheap

[Leina_Ratchetfun]

Installment Thirteen: Wolf

“The next closest shop is the wool shop, run by Jake,” states Azeline as they leave Tony’s honey shop.

After a left, a right and a smooth curve, we reach the wool shop. Jake is seated, his forearms resting on the counter top. He has a distant, lazy look on his face, and he seems to be casually chewing something. He looks toward us and raises his eyebrows.

“Hello!” I greet. “We have a delivery of wool for you.”

“Ehh? Ye?” his voice is gruff and unrefined.

“Yep! I’m new to the job.”

“Aye, I reckon so,” he remarks as he sits up and crosses his arms. He closes his mouth, twists his lips a little, then opens them and started blowing a bubble with the substance he’s chewing. Bubble gum!

He watches wordlessly as Azeline and I load the sacks and boxes of wool onto his counter. When we finish, I announce, “That’s all for now. I’ll be back with more later!”

“Aye, fine with me. Thanks.”

“My pleasure!” I start pushing the cart away from the counter. “See you later!”

“Aye.” He slowly stands up, hauls himself to his new delivery and starts peering inside one of the sacks.

“Right,” says Azeline with a nod, “Now onto the cheese shop, run by Remy.”

She walks down a different passageway, and I begin to follow, but I glance into the cart, and freeze in my tracks.

Azeline looks back and gives me a puzzled look. “What’s wrong?”

“We. . . missed a jar of honey!”

Oooohhhhh. . . Breathes Azeline, looking at the sky like she was asking it, “Why me??”

“How about. . . I take the honey and give it back to Tony, while you go on to Remy?”

“You’d get lost without me to guide you!”

“I’m good with directions! I’m sure I could find my way back!”

“There are automatons patrolling this place! If you get caught, you’re in a tough situation.”

“I’ll keep my eyes peeled. Trust me, Azeline! I think I can do it!”

Azeline squints at me with a cold stare and pursed lips for several moments. “. . . All right. You can try. But if you’re caught by an automaton, don’t blame me.”

“Got it! Thanks!” And with that, I grab the honey jar and take off in the direction we came.

“Meet back here!” Azeline calls behind me.

“Kayyy!” I respond.

I run down the path, analyzing my surroundings. We passed that large crate, that’s were I saw a squirrel, and there’s the green poster, and there’s the white poster, and—

CRASH! Scamper!

The sound came from behind me. I stop for a moment and look back to see what caused it, but everything seems untouched. I guess it happened around that corner. Probably someone running into something. Nothing important. I’m about to turn back around and continue on my way, when, around a corner, scurries a dog.

No, it’s more than a dog, it’s a wolf. And it’s running in my direction.

I cry out, drop the honey and sprint. I hear the wolf following me.

I almost trip on my skirt as I round another corner, hoping to lose the wolf. I take a brief look behind me to find that it’s still chasing me, piercing, green eyes trained on me.

Looking forward again, I realize I’m about to run smack into a wall, and I outstretch my arms and cushion the impact. My arms are probably bruised, but other than that, I’m unharmed.

For now.

I look back and scream. The wolf had stopped running, but it’s creeping towards me with raised hackles, and lips peeled back revealing a full head of sharp, white fangs. Actually, I’m not sure it’s a wolf anymore. I’m not sure what it is. It has the snout, ears, teeth and claws of a wolf, but the thrashing tail is too long. And it’s wearing clothing! Almost like urchin’s clothing, dirty and tattered. And long brown hair drapes over its neck.

It’s like this wolf was once human.

Suddenly, a loud BANG sounds from several feet away, and the wolf thing raises its head, gives a high-pitched howl, collapses and remains motionless. I spot Azeline with a pistol in her hand and sigh in relief. I jog to her and gasp, “Thank you!”

“It’s wounded, but not dead. I caught her shoulder. We must keep moving. I delivered the milk to Remy already. Let’s head back to the Meadows.”

In my shocked state, I could obey any command. I keep close behind Azeline as she pushes the empty cart down the path back toward Urchin’s Grotto.

“How did you find me?” I pant, struggling to keep up with her ever-brisk pace.

“I think it’s rather easy to pick out where someone is from her screaming and the growling of a wolf, don’t you think?”

“Hmm. . .” is all I can say.

“There are stories about that wolf,” Azeline continues as they rush through Urchin’s Grotto, “Mostly stories about it stealing food from markets and shops, or roosting in alleyways. As far as I know, there haven’t been any official reports of it killing people, but maybe. . .” She gives a small shrug.

---

By the time, we arrive at the Meadows, I’m feeling better, and I’m ready to share my adventures with Korey. I decide to not bring up the wolf, or the broken honey jar that I left in the District, to Shep, Buzz or Bucky, but I will tell Korey. Korey will be most interested about the wolf.

Azeline stops and says, “Well, here you are. I’ll leave you here for the boys to watch over you. I have other business to tend to.”

“Oh, okay, thanks for guiding me!”

Azeline nods stiffly, turns and speed-walks back towards No Man’s Landing. I wonder why she’s always in such a hurry. . .

[Korey_Braziertoaster]

Installment Fourteen: The Empty Grotto

“Brown fur, brown hair like a human girl, glowing green eyes, long tail like a cougar’s, and clothing. . .” I look away from my sister for a moment and narrow my eyes in thought. “. . . I’ve never heard of such a creature! Odd, it does sound half-human!”

“Doesn’t it??” exclaims Leina, “Anyway, so it cornered me in an alley with a dead end and started creeping up to me. I was fairly sure I was a goner, but Azeline found me and shot it in the shoulder! She saved me—”

“Shot it?!” My heart tightens and my mouth gapes at the scandal. “Shot it?! Why would she do that?!”

“It was going to kill me!”

“She could have saved you in a more harmless way!”

“Like how? She was like a hundred feet away from us!”

“How do you know the creature was going to kill you?”

“It was growling! It chased me and cornered me! It was looking right at me ferociously!”

“It could have wanted something else! I think if it were trying to kill you, it wouldn’t slow down when you found the dead end. It would take the opportunity, and pounce!”

“Why else would it chase me, then?”

I rub my eye and sigh, tired of the bickering. “Look, I don’t know, but my point is, Azeline shouldn’t have killed it.”

“She didn’t kill it! It was still alive when we left it. She hit it on the shoulder.”

I sigh again, this time with a taste of relief. “Ohhhh, no matter. What happened next?”

She continues her recap of her first workday, but I don’t listen. I’m too busy pondering the creature she described.

A wolf with glowing eyes, the hair and clothing of a human and the tail of a cougar. Fascinating. A shame it had to be wounded. I wonder if this is a common species in Aethasia. I want to see it.

---

~~ The next day. . . ~~

“This is where it cornered me.”

After a long time of zig-zagging through seemingly random paths, Leina points into an isolated alleyway. I peer inside to find that the creature is no longer in there. “Where was it when it was shot?” I ask.

Leina walks into the alley and stops partway in. “About here!”

I look at the ground around where she’s standing. No sign of blood or any other indication the creature was here. I nod to myself in satisfaction: No way to trace it. “Right. Okay, thank you. We can go back.” I start back out the alleyway.

“Don’t you want to find it?” asks Leina in a quiet (probably nervous) voice as she joins me out.

“Sure, but I have no way of knowing where it is.”

“I think it’s in Urchin’s Grotto. We passed through there to get here; maybe you could check!”

I pause and narrow my eyes warily. “Why do you say that?”

“You do want to see it, right?”

“No, I mean, how do you know it’s at Urchin’s Grotto?”

She furrows her brow and stares back at me. “IIIIIII dunno. A guess?”

“That’s an unusually specific guess.”

“I. . .” she averts her eyes and gazes at her feet with a troubled look on her face for a few moments, and then looks back at me with confusion and impatience. “Look, it’s just a guess, and it’s all I know. Shall we look, or not?”

“As long as it’s on our way, why not.” I answer with a shrug.

We head back towards the Grotto in silence. When we arrive, the place is oddly empty. When we had passed by it before, I had seen dirty kids running around, but now all is eerily quiet.

“This is the Grotto, right?” I inquire.

“I believe so,” breathes Leina.

We both stand still and look all around us, unsure of what to do or where to go.

“Oy, you two!” hisses a voice.

We follow the voice with our eyes to a boy, watching us from the shadows with a fearful look on his face. “You shouldn’t be out ‘ere!”

“Why not??” asked Leina skeptically.

“There’s this big dog prowlin’ about! Right big, it is! Looks ‘ungry.”

I look at Leina, she looks at me. I reckon we’re both thinking the same thing: Leina’s guess was right!

“Where is it? Where did you see it?” I ask the boy.

“Dunno, we’ve all been ‘iding back ‘ere in Wally’s shack! ‘ave’nt seen it! Georgia says she saw it down that alley, though.” He points a grimy hand behind them, down an unlit alley that slanted down the hill.

“Anyway,” he continues, “‘f you fear for your life, flee! Leave the Grotto or join us or somethin’, but don’t stan’ out in the open like that! It’ll see ya!”

“Leina,” I command, “keep going to the Meadows. I’ll catch up.”

“You mean you’re going on your own?!”

“I don’t want you hurt!”

“But what if it’s not in that alley? Maybe it moved, or the kid lied! And you could get lost! I’m good with direction; I should stay with you!” She looked at me with pleading eyes. Eyes of true concern that I don’t see often in my sister. With a sigh, I give in. “All right, but stay out of my way and keep your eyes peeled.”

“I will,” she promises with a bold, firm voice.

I give her a little smile and begin making my way towards the alley where the boy said the wolf was.

“You mad?!” shrieked the boy, “Get away from there!”

“He’ll be fine!” was Leina’s reply.

Will I be. . .?

I look down the slope, and my eyes adjust to find, at the end of the alley, two glowing, green eyes greeting me back.

[Peregrine_Appleclock]

Installment Fifteen: In the Sand, Half Sunk

~~ A month before Korey and Leina’s arrival, a day after Peregrine’s escape ~~
~~ From the perspective of Imperial Officer Larkcape; third person ~~

Ben emerges from the mines and stretches his arms. After an hour of directing automatons where to dig to find the Emperor and Zaul, he desperately needs a break.

So weird, he thinks to himself for the umpteenth time, The mines were built with expert care! It shouldn’t have caved in! And all those mine autos! What could have possibly caused such excessive damage??

Yesterday, Silverclaw had told him that a dog caused all this. “A DOG?!” he had exclaimed.

“Yes! A dog! It attacked Lucky and Zaul, caved in the walls and shredded the automatons!”

“A dog.”

“Yes! It was really big and powerful, with lots of teeth and razor-sharp claws. I know. . . I tried to catch it.” Then she had held up one hand to reveal a bandage wrapped around her arm, and with her other hand she had pointed to a set of fresh, jagged claw marks on her neck. “But it escaped. It swam to a departing taxi boat bound for the mainland and boarded it.”

Ben furrows his brow and starts walking about aimlessly as he recalls Silverclaw’s story. Surely not. Why would a DOG cause a room in a well-built mine to cave in, and then rip a dozen automatons to bits? And Silver has claws of her own! She probably just accidentally scratched herself—”

He pauses and his jaw drops. On the ground, in the sand, right in his path, are large paw prints. They were obviously formed by something large and something fast. Intrigued, he walks alongside them until the prints disappear into a disturbance in the sand. In the mayhem, he spots a claw mark in the ground, and two crude shoe-prints, besides quite a bit more sand that appears to be flung in every which way. He gawks and shakes his head, his mind spinning. Surely not! he repeats to himself.

The paw prints. continue at the end of the hypothetical fight scene, leading towards the dock, then disappear at the water’s edge.

He yanks his communicator out for his pocket and dials Silverclaw’s code. “Silver, you there?”

“Hey, Ben! What’s up?” responds her voice.

“A-Are you sure that dog story is real.”

“Positive! If you go the the beach, you should see paw prints.!”

“Yeah, um. . . I get it.”

“You looking at ‘em?”

“Well. . . as a matter of fact, yes.”

“You have to believe me now, right?”

Even if he can’t see her face, Ben knows she’s taunting him. He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Guess I have no choice.”

Silver chuckles.

Something catches Ben’s eye as he’s talking to Silver. Something shiny, peeking out of the spot where Silver had grappled with the dog. He approaches the object and brushes it off. It appears to be some kind of bangle. “Hey, Silver, did you happen to drop a bracelet on the beach?”

“You know I don’t like jewelry!” is Silverclaw’s reply.

“Well did you leave anything that looks like a giant, stainless steel ring? With tiny little switches on it?”

“Nnnnnnnnope! Why?”

“Use your sleuth skills.”

“. . . You found a giant stainless steel ring. With switches.”

“Brilliant, Holmes,” Ben jokes with a smirk.

“Elementary, dear Watson,” she jeers back, “Right. It’s my shift. Talk to ya later, Pig.”

“You know that’s not my nickname anymore!” Ben shouts with indignance.

“Over and ouuuut!” Silver sings out with a nasal voice before the communicator clicks off.

Ben groans and rolls his eyes, shoves the communicator back into his pocket, and starts back up the steps toward the mine entrance. As he walks, he turns over the giant ring thing in his hand. If it didn’t come from Silverclaw, maybe it came from the dog. He chuckles to himself at the possibility, then slips the ring into his other pocket.

Soon, he is back underground, commanding automatons, watching for signs of life and wondering what he will have for supper after the job is done.

[Korey_Braziertoaster]

Installment Sixteen: The Taming of the Wolf

Nothing could have prepared me for what cowers at the end of the alleyway. As soon as I see those round, bright green eyes I freeze, and my jaw goes limp. Even from several yards away, I can feel the creature’s emotion as if I were the creature myself. It. . . she. . . is terrified.

She has the face and claws of a wolf, the tail of a cougar and the body of a human. Her quivering pointed ears are trained on me. Her lips are peeled back in a raspy growl. She’s crouched on all fours, claws digging into the pavement. Her lengthy tail is swishing back and forth. I steadily creep closer and find that she indeed, just as Leina said, wears clothing. A no-sleeved, faded pink top with ripped, grey, knee-length pants. I spot a red, mangled spot on her shoulder – the bullet wound from Azeline.

She flattens her ears and growls with increasing volume as I creep ever closer. After I’m a few feet away, I stop and slowly kneel. Maintaining eye contact with the creature, I stretch a trembling arm towards her, take a large swallow and whisper, “Hullo, you. You’re a beauty. It’s all right, girl, calm down, calm down. I won’t hurt you! What are you? What kind of creature might you be? Are you a Frankenstein kind of being?”

The creature is breathing hard and rapidly. Her eyes manifest terror and wildness, and, with utter fascination I notice, a glint of human-like intelligence. I hack into her mind, trying to trace it, but I find nothing but frenzied insanity. I think Leina is right. This girl was once human. A sob escapes my chest as I gaze at her. She steadily gazes back, as if she understands what I understand about her, as if she’s waiting for me to unearth other things buried deep in her mind.

Her growling quiets, but she is still tense and threatening. I raise my lowered hand towards her again, and wait patiently. She cranes her neck towards my hand a little and sniffs, still grunting warily.

“It’s okay, love, I won’t hurt you. I wouldn’t hurt you, poor thing. Peace, peace. . . Good lady.” Now my hand is grazing her cheek. Her fur is rough and slightly matted.

After several minutes of inching closer, the creature has stopped growling, and now grunts every once in a while. She lets me stroke her head and ears, and often looks me in the eye, as if trying to tell me something. I wish with all my heart I could figure out what she wants to tell me.

As she nudges my hand, I know I can’t leave her alone to cower in the streets of the Grotto. I want to take her home, to the Meadows. I pull myself to my feet, motion for the creature to stay and walk back up the alley to meet Leina.

She and the young urchin boy who had cautioned us earlier have both been watching from the entrance. “Thought you might be able to tame it,” says Leina with a jocular smile as I near her.

“By golly, y’ must ‘ave a real way with big dogs, mister!” exclaims the urchin.

“Listen, do either of you happen to have any rope?”

“You mean you’re taking it with us?!”

“Yes, we’re taking her with us. We can’t just leave her to starve in the Grotto! And she’s filthy!”

“Right mad, you are!” said the urchin.

“Maybe I am, but so is she. She was once human! I saw it in her eyes! She needs help. She needs nourishment.”

“What if she hurts someone?” asks Leina.

“Then I take the blame. Now, where do I find a rope?”

“Wait a mo’, guv,” says the urchin, running across the street. He flings the lid off a rusty grabage can and begins to dig through it. After a few moments, he emerges with a dirty rope, about ten feet long.

I thank him with a smile, coil up the rope and walk back down the alley to the creature.

Getting the rope around her neck is one thing. Pulling her out of the alleyway is another thing all together. It takes half an hour of coaxing, whispering, tugging and guiding to bring her out of the shadows of the alleyway. I find that she moves faster when she’s near me, so I gather up most of the rope and coil it over my shoulder and around my waist so the rope is taut around her neck, enough to keep her close, but not enough to choke her. I walk slowly, with a hand resting on her head, with Leina silently trailing several feet behind us. The urchin (whose name is Petie) hovers around our little procession keeping urchins and other pedestrians away from her, as they might spook her. As we leave the Grotto, Petie falls back with a wave, leaving Leina to shoo away the spectators.

Thankfully, No Man’s Landing is relatively calm at this time of day. Residents are either at home or at work, and not many automatons prowl around due to low criminal activity. But the few who do cross our path, stare. I keep my eyes on the road ahead, trying not to notice the curious eyes of the spectators, or the sound of Leina herding them away saying, “Stay back, don’t come near. Nothing much to see here. Stay away. Run along. GET BACK HERE!”

I breathe a noisy sigh of relief when we finally reach the Meadows. The creature has been mostly silent throughout the trip, save for the heavy panting. Even when I’m not looking down at her, I can feel the tensity in her body. “Don’t worry, girl,” I breathe, “As soon as we reach our camp, you’ll be safe. We’re almost there. Almost there. . .”

Shep, Buzz and Buck don’t seem to be around; they’re probably on lunch break or something. In any case, I’m glad they aren’t around to see the creature. We make it the rest of the way to camp without incident. I lead the creature into our tent and feed her berries and scraps of fish.. She’s still very scared, but she’s warming up to Leina and me better than I expected. All we can do now is be patient with her.