Tea for Bears

2 – The East Wing

There were several doors leading out from the main entry hall, and I had no way of knowing which one the three "bears" would choose. I scoured the entire area for drones. Unfortunately, most of the ones I could find were somehow incapacitated, either buried in rubble or simply broken. The few that I could activate showed me a shockingly dismal picture of my once beautiful home. It was in worse condition than I'd feared. My manse looked clean by comparison. There were teacups everywhere, and in some rooms the walls and the ceiling were actually crumbling.

"So much for the Art of Permanence," I grumbled, not that anyone was listening to me. Though my senses did not extend beyond my casket, I got the distinct impression that something worse than common housebreakers was responsible for the destruction I observed. With the way some of the walls and floors were damaged, it looked less like vandalism and more like encroaching Wyld.

That, of course, was a very bad thing. If my main defenses were failing, I had to free myself, and quickly too. Getting swallowed by the Deep Wyld was the only death I could imagine which made imprisonment and slow starvation seem preferable.

It must have taken me ten minutes to catch up with my uninvited guests, and when I finally did, it was through the lens of an old drone permanently mounted in the ceiling. I couldn't use it to communicate, which was what I wanted to do most, but at least I could see and hear what was going on.

The big man and the barefoot woman were in the East Wing, standing in the middle of the ballroom and staring up at the doors twenty feet above their heads. They seemed oblivious to the large white tile which read "Stairs". Their companion, the red-headed monk, was ten feet away, studying Desmond's mural. I'd heard the others call him "Recluse".

I turned the drone as far as I could to get a better look at him. The monk didn't really look like a monk, except for his simple white clothing. He had a pair of fine little gold glasses perched on his nose, and his thin hands with their very long fingers made me suspect that he was either an artist or a musician. There was also the possibility that my doors had been broken using some kind of sorcery. If that was the case, I was certain that he was the one responsible for the damage.

Not that I was intimidated. Even if he did know a spell that I didn't, few sorcerers could match my prowess. Brigid, Devon, and perhaps Bright Shattered Ice... but that was a very short list. I had earned my sobriquet "Weaver of the Wyld" in the most dramatic way possible. Large scale terra-forming was my specialty. Offensive spells were child's play by comparison.

"This painting is quite impressive," Recluse remarked. The others ignored him. They were too busy considering how to destroy another one of my lovely doors.

I'd named them right. Three bears, stomping around in my house. But perhaps they were not all animals. Perhaps the monk was different. He seemed to be genuinely interested in Desmond's work, which meant that he had good taste.

Though I lamented my Mate's approach to crafting, I had to confess that his artistic ability was something to be envied. The mural showed one of the last battles of the War and Desmond had placed me, not in the center of the piece in a position that would look arrogant, but where I had actually been, somewhere in the back preparing to cast a spell. I also approved of how he had depicted Mother, facing her five proud and rebellious daughters. She seemed to be hesitating, one hand reaching towards the Gods, and the other reaching back in the direction of the falling Primordials. I preferred to remember her that way. History had judged her too harshly. She deserved better.

Still, I had more important things to worry about than such long-ago battles. I turned my attention back to the other intruders. They were still staring up at the door, stupid expressions on their faces.

It was nice to appraise them from a reasonable vantage point, rather than looking up from the floor. The big man was blond and quite tall with striking blue eyes and a certain noble bearing. He didn't seem to be especially clever, but there was something very genuine and likeable about him. At very least, he was easy on the eyes. He was dressed in old lamellar armor that appeared to be army issue, although the insignia on his chest was nothing I recognized. I might have called him a Fire-Aspect, but if he was a Dragonblood, he was poorly bred.

I'd heard Recluse call the big man "Loren", right before he'd crushed my drone. It was a soft sounding name, and although he was clearly a soldier, there was something about it which suited him.

"Why would someone put a door way up there?" Loren wondered. "How do you get to it?"

"There are stairs," I replied, although I knew he could not hear me.

"It's not that high. I could jump," The woman suggested.

"And open the door?" Loren laughed. "What if it's locked?"

"Oh," the woman paused. Apparently she hadn't considered that possibility. "So what do you want to do? Should we go back the other way?"

"You could use the stairs," I repeated, not that it would make any difference.

"No, I don't think so," Loren said. He was responding to the woman, and he couldn't hear me, but he still sounded perfectly absurd. "That door must go somewhere. There has to be a way to get to it,"

"The stairs, imbecile!" I groaned.

"Hm, what's this?" Recluse observed. He'd drifted in a circle all the way around the room and came to a stop in front of the tile which read "Stairs". He pushed the tile. There was a grinding sound that made me grimace, and the stairs slowly unfolded out of the floor.

"What did you just do?" Loren demanded.

"Stairs," the monk pointed to the tile, a smirk on his face.

I smiled slightly myself. I was beginning to like him.

A drone activated as the doors opened, and I switched my view. I was stuck in the ceiling and couldn't turn very far, but I could see the woman's back. I couldn't hear what she said to either of the men, but they all spent a few moments admiring Desmond's art collection. Another drone switched on as the monk passed the table at the end of the hall. I was looking directly at a tea cup.

The woman reached out and picked it up.

"Sapphire? Please tell me you're not going to drink that tea," Loren said.

"It's still warm," the woman, Sapphire, replied. I wasn't at all surprised by her name. Pretty as she was, she also looked like a whore, and they were always called things like "Lily" or "Crystal".

"Of course it is! These idiot servitors of mine won't stop making it! It's all they do! Tea! And more tea! Have some tea! You can ask for something else, but you won't get anything else! I hope you like tea!" It made me feel better to rave a little. I took a deep breath and composed myself.

Another idiot servitor set a fresh cup of tea on top of my casket, almost blocking my view of I AM's screen. "Not there, you worthless heap of scrap!" I cursed. "No! No tea! No tea!"

It was futile. I'd given that command countless times already, and it never had any effect.

Sapphire sipped the tea. She immediately gagged.

"You shouldn't have done that," Loren observed.

"Gods, tell me something I don't know? These people were supposed to lives of unparalleled luxury and they don't even have decent tea?" She rolled her eyes. "It tastes like dishrags!"

I sighed heavily. "Oh, this is humiliating!" I banged my fists on the lid of my casket. "Did you hear that, you stupid machines? Your tea is terrible! Now stop making it!"

No response. Of course, I hadn't actually expected one. I tried to activate the nearest drone, and to my surprise, it actually responded. Sapphire was the first to notice it wobble, and she immediately drew her firewands.

Recluse relaxed first. "It's just an observation drone," he reassured his companions. "Like the one you stepped on before."

"It moved," Sapphire said. "Someone's watching us?"

"Yes, dear," I sighed. Knowing that I couldn't be heard left me with a burning desire to say something especially rude. "And it's a good thing you're lovely, because you are an absolute ignoramus! Now pay attention! I'm only going to do this once!"

I pushed the drone again, and it rolled off the table. Ahead of me, I could see the glass doors that led to the greenhouse, and decided to coax the intruders in that direction.

"Where is it going?" Loren wondered.

"Do you think it wants us to follow it?" Sapphire asked.

"Oh, for the love of..." I groaned. "There's a drone rolling down the hallway! Yes, follow it!"

That was when something very disturbing happened. The ground began to shake beneath me, and for a moment the lights actually flickered off. It should have been impossible for me to lose power, considering where I drew it from. In over two-thousand years, such a thing had never happened. Obviously, the geomancy of my manse was very seriously damaged. I was running out of time.

When I regained contract with my drone, it was rolling very fast. I realized as I approached the greenhouse doors that I couldn't slow it down, and I winced as the drone hit a bump in the floor and flew into the air, crashing through the glass.

It was yet another thing I knew I'd have to fix, but with the threat of the Wyld looming, I'd have time to cry over broken doors later. The screen went for a few moments, and all I heard was static. I felt sure that I'd destroyed the drone, but then I heard the sound of leaves crunching underfoot.

Apparently a little tumble had actually done the drone some good. It reactivated and leapt into the air at my command, although it hovered in a nauseating manner. I tried to stabilize it, but caught only glimpses of the greenhouse whirling around me. Loren was hacking his way through overgrown rose bushes. The entire place, which had been so lovely and well-organized, looked like a primeval forest. With the way Sapphire wrinkled her nose, I realized that it probably smelled more like a moldy compost pile.

I was now certain that the Wyld was bleeding in, and at an alarming rate. A snakebud seedling I'd planted only a few weeks ago had grown far beyond the bounds of its pot, devouring most of the floor and metamorphosing into a huge, gnarled old tree.

"I AM, where are the gardeners?" I demanded, not that I expected an answer.

I hoped they weren't making tea.

"You know, there's a legend about a place like this," Sapphire remarked. "An island in the Deep Wyld. It's supposed to inhabited by a powerful sorceress who's been sleeping for a thousand years."

"I don't think I've heard that one. How does the story end?" Recluse wondered.

"It doesn't, I guess. Or if it does, I don't know," Sapphire admitted. "You should probably ask Rhapsody."

I gathered that was someone they all knew, because Loren and Recluse both nodded. Sapphire drifted towards my snakebud tree, and as she reached out to touch it, I saw a vine beginning to recoil.

"Get back! You're scaring it!" I ordered.

She jumped, and I realized that she'd actually heard me. Unfortunately, it was too late. The tree struck and Sapphire shrieked as it seized her leg, and pulled her into its branches. Vines coiled around her, and a large bud began to open, showing an intimidating array of razor-sharp teeth.

"Help! It's trying to eat me!"

"Of course it's trying to eat you! It's a carnivorous tree!" I shouted. "Hit it! Hit it hard!"

Loren and Recluse both turned slowly, noticing the drone I controlled.

Sapphire screamed again. "Do something, damnit! I can't reach my firewands!"

"Don't look at me, this is an observation drone! It doesn't have any weapons! Go! Save your stupid friend!"

The two charged the tree. Recluse was obviously a skilled martial artist, and he managed to free Sapphire. Loren hacked off several of the larger vines... not enough to cause any permanent damage, but enough to make the tree quite upset. It hissed and flailed, at least until he hurled his sword at it. The blade pierced deep into the trunk, and I wondered what he was thinking, throwing away a weapon like that.

I heard some mumbled words that sounded like a Charm and two deafening firewand shots before the snakebud tree lashed out at my hovering drone and sent it flying right through the ceiling. It went up a good distance over the roof and through my shield, out into the Wyld. There was another bang, which I guessed was the sound of my drone either exploding or being inexplicably transformed into a grapefruit.

Everything went dark.

"Damnit," I cursed. "I should have listened to Desmond."

It was rare that I gave him credit for anything, but my Mate had warned me that large snakebud trees could prove unmanageable, and he'd clearly been right about that. The stupid tree had very nearly killed the intruders... which wouldn't have necessarily been a bad thing if I hadn't been trapped and counting on the three of them to rescue me.

Switching from drone to drone wasn't getting me anywhere. I needed more mobility if I planned to guide the three fumbling bears and prevent them from destroying my entire house. I scanned the list of my household constructs, mentally striking off all of the ones I couldn't locate, like the gardeners, and the ones I knew I couldn't control, like the tea-making servitors. My eye caught an inconsistency on the list, a very old serial number. Whatever it was, it was something I hadn't tried activating recently.

"My dog! Of course!" I exclaimed, amazed that I hadn't considered such a thing earlier.

"I AM, activate my dog!" I ordered.

My dog was in its little house, lying in a puddle of something foul. I wasn't sure if it was excrement from the snakebud tree, or fluids leaking from somewhere else, but my poor pet was in a sorry state. It rose to its feet with a nasty grinding sound and walked with a limp. Fortunately, it could still see and hear, which was something.

"Over here!" I shouted.

My dog barked. Everyone looked very nervous, which I supposed was to be expected, considering they'd just been attacked by a tree.

"Is everyone all in one piece?" I asked.

My dog whined. "Oh. Wonderful," I rolled my eyes. "You can't understand me, because I'm a dog!"

As I continued talking to myself, my dog made another unusual noise that I didn't remember programming. Loren seemed ready to attack the construct, but Recluse stopped him.

"It's just a construct," he said. He made a tight little circle around my dog, evaluating it with a critical eye. "Well, a spectacular construct. Even by Solar standards. There's a... certain refinement in craftsmanship. Beautiful work."

I was pleased that he appreciated my skill, and to show him that I meant well, I hobbled over to the door where a cup of tea was sitting on a little wooden garden table. I wasn't sure if it was warm or cold, or how long it had been where it was, but if I meant to get the cooperation of the intruders, I had to show them that I wasn't "just a construct".

"Look!" I said. My dog barked, and I made it nose the teacup.

"The tea?" Recluse observed.

"You're not getting any tea?" Sapphire swore incoherently. Apparently she wasn't as stupid as I'd thought she was.

Recluse pushed his little glasses up on his nose and took the cup of tea. Even though he knew that it would taste terrible, he sipped it politely. "This tea is awful," he remarked, not talking to the construct, but directly to me. He'd obviously guessed what I was trying to do.

"Sorry about that," I replied. My dog made a strange whuffing noise, another sound that I'd never heard before. I wondered if Desmond hadn't meddled with it. He wanted us to have a "real" dog, and when I refused to get one, he'd moped for days. I did feel a bit guilty when I saw how much it obviously meant to him, but I hadn't apologized.

As I realized that I might never see him again, I found myself wishing that I'd made that small concession. I'd always taken Desmond for granted. Perhaps that was why he'd left and not come back.

Loren surveyed the snakebud tree warily. The three had made short work of the poor thing. It was bleeding considerably, burned in several places, and missing most of its limbs. I suspected that it would probably die soon, but it was still flailing and hissing,

Sapphire knelt down on the floor. A few pieces of tile were broken, and a circuit was exposed. She examined it. It was part of a tiny water pump and no real danger, but any energy disturbance could interfere with my tenuous connection to the construct I was controlling.

"Don't touch that!" I scolded her, although I knew she couldn't understand me.

My dog barked, and she hesitated.

"Why is everything still running?" She demanded, turning to her companions as she slowly stood. "I've been in tombs with demons and traps before, but all the servitors, that dog, the tea? What if there is someone here?"

"Sapphire, we've already been over this. It's impossible," Loren argued.

"No!" I bashed my head against the lid of my casket several times. My dog whined and covered its head with its paws. "Are your brains damaged? I just spoke to you!" I shouted. "Imbecile!"

"We all heard that voice, didn't we?" Sapphire retorted. "It spoke to us twice now."

"A recording, probably. Or a dysfunctional artificial intelligence?" Recluse suggested.

That wasn't actually a bad guess, but it still frustrated me. I desperately wanted to be found. My dog seemed to be working, but perhaps there were other ways to get their attention. I found the protocol for the water pump, and shot a stream ten feet into the air. It wasn't much of a message, but it did get all three of my intruders soaking wet. They all glanced at one another doubtfully and gave my dog their undivided attention. I smiled slightly at my tiny victory.

"So you are controlling this place?" Recluse wiped his face on his sleeve. Once again, it seemed that he was speaking, not to the construct, but directly to me.

"It could be a trap!" Loren argued. "This place has been cut off too long for anyone to have survived. Even the greatest artifacts have their limits. There's no such thing as an infinite energy source!"

"What about a primordial?" Recluse suggested.

"Ooh! Give the clever boy a cup of tea!" I exclaimed. My dog bounced and wagged its tail.

Recluse was very smart to have guessed such a thing. An infinite energy source was not something most Solars had access to, but I was a special case. Only seven Solars had survived the Primordial War, and I alone had found a way to harness the power of the vast world-shaping entities we had slain. Even dead, Primordials were phenomenally powerful, and just a piece of one could provide a virtually endless supply of raw Wyld to be shaped and utilized. Using such energy in lieu of Essence could be done, but it was tricky business. Fortunately, Mother had taught me very well.

Still, I did not feel much like bragging. Something about the Loren's certainty worried me.

How long had I been unconscious? I suspected that the preservation casket had frozen me, because I'd woken up feeling cold and stiff, but since my servitors were still making tea, I thought it had only been a few days. What if it had been much longer than that?

"Can you answer yes or no questions? Two barks for yes?" Recluse suggested.

"Yes! Yes!" I exclaimed. Finally, we were getting somewhere!

"Are you a construct?" He asked.

"No," I replied.

"Not a construct," Loren observed.

"But you're controlling the constructs? All of them?" He pressed.

I hesitated.

"Some of them. The ones that aren't broken?" Sapphire clarified.

"Yes." My dog barked twice.

"So... if you're not a construct, and you're not an Artificial Intelligence... what are you?" Recluse asked.

I realized that I had no way of answering that question, at least until I remembered the water pump.

I hobbled over to a muddy spot and made a circle of dog-prints on the sole remaining patch of white tile. Careful not to smudge my work, I drew a line through the center of my circle, completing the most shameful depiction of the Mark of the Twilight Caste ever created.

Recluse cursed incoherently.

The other two only stared gravely at the unmistakable symbol on the floor.