A/N: I'm kind of confused, is it Violet or Viola?

Disclaimer: Professor Layton is property of Level-5.

- Chapter 1: One Wish -

"Just a little longer, Gizmo…"

One more wire was connected and the last screw tightened and…"There!" Flora beamed and set the robot dog on the floor. "I fixed the leg and I added a feature too. Now you can scavenge for gold like those pigs in the book scavenge for truffles."

The clockwork dog waggled its feet as if to ascertain that it was replaced correctly.

"Oh, I screwed it on just fine. Now don't you want to try your new gold sensor, Gizmo?" Flora urged.

Gizmo tilted its head slightly and barked a static-charged bark.

"Come on Gizmo!" she said, throwing her hands into the air. "Everyone likes gold in the outside world! This sensor is definitely useful. Now go!" She thrust a finger towards the ceiling. "Find that coin I hid in the room!"

There was a low growl as the clockwork dog began to search for the coin, but Gizmo did not give further protest. With its nose close to the floor, Gizmo prowled the room until a high pitched ping was emitted from its nose. It awkwardly swept aside the cushions in the area with one of its stubby paws to reveal a small, gold coin.

"Yes!" Flora shouted excitedly, jumping slightly. "It works, it works!" She paused thoughtfully. "Although…I think I should give you longer legs…and maybe some moveable toes...but that's not very dog-like, is it?"

"Flora!"

The girl jumped at her name. "Oh dear," she muttered. Then louder, "Coming, mother!"

Down the hallway, up two flights of stairs, in the first room after turning two corners was Violet's room. The room itself was furnished simply, but comfortably. A soft carpet was under the bed, adding warmth to the smooth, stone floor. Surrounded by plush pillows and thin sheets (just right for a summer's day), Violet's mother reclined into the bed.

"There you are, dear," Violet said with a warm, if tired, smile.

"Did you need something, mother?"

"Yes, Matthew found Simon deactivated in the library this morning," Violet said, motioning weakly towards a robot with a large nose, sprawled unceremoniously on the floor. "I think we forgot to give him a command for quite a few days because he had holed himself up in the library and we couldn't find him…"

"He always was obsessed with outsmarting the professor!" Flora giggled.

"Yes he is," Violet said, chuckling. "But we can't have him in this state forever! Reactivate him, won't you, Flora?"

"Of course, mother." Flora cleared her throat and then, she quietly sang:

"I am a little mockingbird,

You think I'm weak and frail,

But Clockwork, that's absurd.

Your gears may outlast me,

But I am a mockingbird.

Your gears can't catch me."

Immediately, Simon opened his eyes and sprang up, embarrassed by his former posture. "S-sorry about that," he said sheepishly.

"Don't go running off like that!" Flora admonished. "What would've happened if Matthew hadn't found you? Besides, you're one of the ones who help mother."

"I really am sorry! But….but there was this series of books," Simon protested, "a-and they were so fascinating I spent all day and night reading them. Before I knew it a couple days passed and…well…" He rubbed the back of his neck, not quite able to look up.

"…one week helping clean the tower," Flora said.

"What?" Simon's head shot up. "B-but, that's so boring!"

"One week," she repeated flatly. "Don't make me make it two," she said before Simon could protest further.

Simon glared at her, but said nothing else, although he did grumble grouchily as he left the room.

"I think that three days would've sufficed," Violet said after Simon's departure.

"I gave him three days last time, mother," Flora replied mercilessly. "More importantly, how are you feeling?"

"Oh, much better. You know it always does me good to see you, dear," Violet said, patting Flora's arm.

Flora bit her lip nervously.

"…is something wrong, Flora?"

"No, nothing!" the girl answered hastily.

"Well then, is there something you would like to ask me?" Violet said, unconvinced.

"I…well...would you be alright without me for a day or two?"

"I suppose I would make due, dear." Violet sat up and turned to look at her daughter quizzically. "Why are you asking me this? Is the professor planning to keep you studying for a whole day?"

Flora took in a deep breath. "Iwantto...toleavethetowerformybirthday."

"What? Flora, enunciate and slow down!"

Another deep breath. "I want to leave the tower for my birthday."

Violet stared, then slowly, "Flora, you know you can't leave."

"It's only for one day!"

"Flora, you can't."

"But I would be back before you know it! A-and I'm not asking to go alone!" Flora gestured wildly all around the room. "I just want the professor to take me to this year's Inventor's Fair. It falls on my birthday this year and it would be the perfect gift! There's no harm—"

"Flora!"

The girl stopped abruptly, shocked into silence by her mother's unusually cold glare.

"You can't."

"Why?" she said furiously, recovering from the surprise.

"You can't go alone," Violet said softly, looking away. "The world outside…isn't a pleasant place. It doesn't work like the worlds in the storybooks. People steal, lie, attack and kill each other, Flora. You remember what happened to your father, don't you?"

"Yes, but there's no reason that they would try to kill me—"

"There is a reason! Your father was killed because others envied him for his knowledge. Your uncle, Bruno, hid with us to avoid the same fate."

"But they don't know anything about me."

"You were taught everything Bruno knew!"

"But I'm not going to traipse around showing off, mother!"

"You will slip up, Flora!"

"Why can't you have any faith in me?"

"Because you have no experience, Flora!" Violet shouted, unexpectedly loud. "You know nothing about what it is like out there. You know nothing about what people will do out there to get what they want!"

"I will never gain any experience if I stay in here forever," Flora said icily.

"The moment I let you go, you'll be swindled into one thing or another or you'll naively wander off with some shady character and never come back."

"I would not go anywhere without someone I didn't trust, mother!"

"You give your trust too easily! Out there are humans, not robots, they aren't governed by any rules. They're unpredictable! You can't trust anybody."

"But I'm human, remember?"

"You're not leaving. It's safe in here. You're too naïve, too weak. You can't defend yourself at all!"

"I told you that the professor will—"

"The professor agrees with me!" Flora stiffened. "He agrees that you should never leave here and he will never agree to take you outside."

"…and what if he did agree?"

"Flora," Violet muttered wearily.

"What if he did agree?" Flora insisted. "Then I could go couldn't I?"

"Flora…"

"Mother, your argument is based entirely on the fact that the professor won't come with me, but if he did, it's moot!"

Violet massaged her temples.

"Mother, please." She kneeled by her mother's bedside, hands clasped together tightly. "Please."

Her mother sighed and turned to face Flora. "If the professor agrees to take you," she said slowly, "then I suppose you can go."

"Thank you!" Flora cried as she lunged to hug Violet. "Thankyouthankyouthankthankyou!"

Violet smiled a bit and returned her daughter's embrace. "Only if the professor agrees," she reminded.

"I know he'll agree, oh, I'm so excited!" she said, feet stamping loudly on the floor as she did an ecstatic jig.

"…don't be so sure of that."

"…I can't believe we're working with a little psycho!" growled a thick-set man with stitched-up scar running across one side of his forehead. He tugged crossly at his dark moustache. Even crouched in the darkness of a narrow, empty alleyway, his purple face made his irritation obvious.

"C'mon now, Bostro," grunted another spindly man, nervously playing with his dark glasses as he tried to pacify the angry Bostro. "Boy can't be as bad as you think."

"Not as bad?" Bostro fumed. "Splinter, did you not see that look in 'is eye when we asked for 'is cooperation? An' haven't you heard 'bout the stunt he pulled a few months ago?"

"We outta be glad, oughtn't we, that he was so eager to help?" Splinter said evenly with a shrug of his thin shoulders.

"I don't trust anyone who's so quick to betray their own country," Bostro said as he continued to pull at his (rapidly shrinking) moustache.

"Who's betraying their own country?"

Bostro quickly spun around to face the newcomer. "Triton!" he shouted. "We've been waitin' for ages! No one followed you back, right?"

"I doubt that would've mattered," the young man drawled, leaning against a wall, "since the whole street must've heard you shouting." He looked rather out of place with the other two men. Sadly, the other two looked as though they had been born looking like criminals. The young man, however, looked like the type you would see helping old ladies avoid the horse carriages as they crossed the roads in town. He was normally built, of a normal height, with a normal hair color (a normal shade of brown), and he was dressed smartly (and normally with a blue jacket, blue cap, white shirt, etc.) to boot.

"Why you—"

"As for my trustworthiness, I ask that you relax," he continued smoothly, completely ignoring Bostro. "I have no love for this country as the way things are and it I would like nothing more than to see those arrogant fools sitting in the castle squirm." He gave a normal, if charming, smile. "I should think that having a few tidbits of information falling into another country's hands before they are so magnanimously willing to reveal them would make them squirm, don't you? Of course, besides that pleasure, there's also payment from you two." The smile stayed in place, but the overall air about the young man changed, and suddenly, it seemed as though he belonged in the torture chamber on the torturer's side.

"It's been settled already, Triton," Splinter said quickly before Bostro could yell any more. "You help us steal the plans to clockwork beings and we'll pay you three hundred pounds of gold."

"And, because the blueprints aren't completed yet…?"

"…we will tell you everything about how to create the clockwork beings once our scientists have found out how to make them."

"Excellent!" the young man said cheerfully, clapping his hands together. "Well then, let's go! I've scouted a bit and I found a good way to enter."

"Enter?" Bostro narrowed his eyes. "Enter where?"

"The laboratory behind the castle, of course," the young man said, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Where else do you think the robots are developed?"

"What're 'robots'?" Splinter asked, scratching his head.

"Another name for the clockwork beings. Bruno coined the term."

"You sure 'bout this?"

"Positive. It's only one of their most dangerous researches; the laboratory is the best place for that."

The laboratory lay several miles behind the castle, surrounded only by air. The forest had been completely cleared around it. There were no trees, no grass, no weeds; only dirt, for a mile. A rapidly flowing river ran behind it, white with foam and roaring as the water clashed against the rocks. The river was about thirty feet across, and on the opposite banks, the forest still flourished. The edifice itself was solidly built of stone and metal, sunk low into the ground. Only the top floor was exposed to the world, the rest of it lay underground. Guards were place all around the building. They did not need height to find intruders; the shrub-less, flat earth guaranteed that no one could sneak in.

Or so it was commonly believed.

"There's a hidden tunnel that leads right into the lowest floor of the laboratory," the young man said.

"How'd you know that?" Splinter asked.

"I have acquaintances who once worked in the laboratory. The passageway is used to sneak the information out, in case the laboratory is threatened. Of course, it can also be used to sneak in. Scientists don't seem to be very observant when it comes to this sort of thing."

"Sounds too easy," Bostro said suspiciously.

"Oh, well there are a few guards around the exit and entrance of course," the young man shrugged. "But they're isolated unless they can call for help. You look like you have quite a bit of muscle, Bostro. Make use of it and knock them out before they can alert the other guards."

Once the trio reached the clearing in the forest were the entrance was, Bostro did just that. With one swift movement, he grabbed a guard—separated from the others so as to not draw too much attention to the clearing— with one beefy arm, and neatly gave a minor concussion with his free arm. He repeated this four times, with a different guard each time.

The tunnel itself was steep, but well lit by bottles filled with a glow like that of fireflies. The young man wondered how the scientists were supposed to drag their heavier, important discoveries up this tunnel and decided that it was another example of carelessness.

At the tunnel's end, Splinter quickly kicked the door open, and before the surprised guards could act, he and Bostro smashed their heads together. The young man stepped out of the tunnel and immediately began to run off, leaving the other two men to chase after him.

"We have to hurry," he warned as they stopped to hide behind a bulky invention. "They'll discover the unconscious guards any minute…"

"I'll go back to hide them—"

"Back down, Splinter!" he hissed. "They'll notice no guards just as easily. Now, from what I gleaned from my acquaintance, the blueprints should be on this floor, near the center of the building. Apparently, the room is piled with useless robots, so it'll be obvious."

Without another word, the three began to move again. Fortunately, the hallways were mostly empty. Unfortunately, there were so many twists and turns that it was difficult to discern where the center was.

A few minutes of running and… "AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! THE GUARDS ARE UNCONSIOUS!"

The young man flinched. "Great, someone found them. Hurry!" He quickened his pace, no longer caring about the sound of his footsteps as he heard loud bangs and skids in the rooms as the scientists rapidly abandoned their research to check on the commotion.

As the doors opened and the scientists rushed out, the three intruders crouched behind three, useless, decorative statues tucked away into indents in the wall. It wasn't very effective for Bostro, since he was too muscular to be hidden by the thin statues, but the shadows obscured him enough for the panicking scientists to overlook him.

The young man smirked. This was perfect! Thank god for the idiocy of scientists! "Quickly!" he said. "While the scientists are gone, check the rooms."

The other two men scrambled for the doors. Splinter checked the nearest room immediately, only to be disappointed to find that it was completely devoid of worthless robots and only filled with colorful, leafy plants of questionable safety. Bostro had trouble squeezing out from behind the statue and didn't manage to do anything until Splinter had already checked five more rooms.

The young man took his time with the rooms. He entered several of them to look over the research papers. "No, no," he muttered in one as he flipped though blueprints detailing the creation of something that could shoot out six metal balls in rapid succession. "Wouldn't have quite the effect I hope for…" And with a careless toss, he threw the papers over his shoulders and ran to next room.

"Hurry up, Triton!" Bostro hissed, sticking his head through the door to find the young man stuffing papers into one of the pockets inside his jacket. "What's that?" he asked suspiciously. "You better not be tryin' to keep the blueprints for the clockwork beings to yourself."

"Oh no, of course not!" the young man replied, smiling. "This is just a little extra something for myself."

"I don't trust you, Tri—"

"BOSTRO! I'VE FOUND THEM. I'VE FOUND THE BLUEPRINTS!" bellowed Splinter, running into the room.

Of course, the three were already pushing their luck by staying so long, and with that loud shout, it was obvious that someone would find them.

In fact, a whole squadron of guards found them.

"There's the intruder!" cried a guard, pointing at the room just as Splinter's legs disappeared into it.

The young man immediately shut and locked the door. His companions immediately dropped whatever they were holding and began to jam as much furniture as they could into the doorway to withstand the heavy pounding as the squadron of guards tried to batter down the door.

"Now what do we do?" Splinter asked, frantically looking around. He froze as he saw the young man.

The young man was holding the blueprints in hand, sitting calmly on a cabinet.

Eight feet above them near the ceiling of the room, right above the door.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Splinter spluttered.

"Checking to make sure you grabbed the right plans," the young man replied, not taking his eyes off the plans. "Fortunately, you did." He folded the papers and put them in his jacket pocket as well.

"Oi! Give that back!" Bostro shouted, thrusting a thick finger at the young man.

"No thank you. Now…if you'll excuse me." With a forceful tug, he pulled the rusty metal bars from a narrow opening next to him. "I figured there would be some of these. How else would the lower levels be so well aired even with the doors shut so tightly most of the time? Lucky they don't maintain their coverings too well."

"Wh-what—"

"These are air vents to help the lower levels be tolerable, of course."

"That's not what I meant!" Bostro roared, face turning an even darker shade of purple. "What are you doing?"

"Me? I'm escaping of course." He waved his blue cap. "Have a nice day, gentlemen."

Splinter and Bostro dove at the cabinet, scrambling to climb the furniture they had put before the door, desperate to grab the young man. "Triton! If you think—why did you bring a gun?" Bostro stared at the small, wood and metal contraption in the young man's hand and recoiled in fear. Splinter backed up immediately.

"Like it? It's a new model, wheellock, I think. Cost me a fair sum, but I think it was worth it."

"But why did you—"

"Surely you didn't think I came empty-handed?" he quipped with a friendly nastiness. "Now, why don't you two wait there for a bit…"

The door was pushed open with a bang. The blockade was dispersed by the force of the door being broken down, and Bostro and Splinter were thrown back with it.

The young man took this as his cue and slipped into the narrow opening.

The guards swarmed in, now with reinforcements. They quickly tackled the two men, dog piling them and stuffing their faces against the floor as they chained them. It wasn't until several minutes had passed and the men had their faces free from the floor that the guards finally heard, "We weren't the only two! He escaped through the vents!"

By then, of course, the young man had already crawled his way to a room many doors down from the one he had escaped from. The room from which he decided to exit the vents was mostly empty—only a single scientist was in there. The bars, however, were less rusty than the one in the room he had escaped from. After pulling roughly at the bars a few times, the young man placed his gun on a particularly stubborn bar and fired.

"What the?" The scientist turned to spot the young man climbing out of the opening. Before he could cry for help, the scientist saw a bar of metal flying towards his face…

The young man bolted from the room, knowing that the gunfire would've drawn attention. Surely enough, in adjacent rooms the scientists that had returned poked their heads out of the doors. The young man didn't care who saw him anymore and continued to tear through the hallway.

"There's another intruder!" they clamored. One tried to make a grab for the young man, but the young man slammed against the door as it was half-opened, the brave scientist partially still in the door way. The poor scientist gave a moan as the door crushed him against the wall and crumpled to the floor.

The young man had only turned a few corners before he saw the guards running towards him. Cursing, he sped up his pace and reached a stairway just before the guards did. They ran after him, but soon fell behind due to their great numbers clogging the narrow stairs.

There was no way he could use the tunnel now, the young man thought grimly as he bounded up another flight of stairs leading to fourth floor underground. He would have to find another exit. But where? "Think…what else did they say about this place…?" The first floor had the main door, but the young man highly doubted that even the folks of the laboratory were stupid enough to leave it unguarded. No…he would be caught immediately. The second then? Weapons productions…needed a lot of water to power everything…not to mention cooling things off…all the water was obtained through the second level, right…?

Wait. That could mean an exit into the river!

It was crazy. He could smash up against rocks and die.

Oh well. This was the only chance he had of escaping with his loot.

It was a good thing he had placed the papers inside a safe-keeping pouch he had purchased a few months ago. Those could withstand the water for awhile, right?

Several uneventful flights of stairs later, he was on the second level.

So were the guards.

"There he is!"

Still, the young man, alone, was quicker. He followed the sound of water, louder on the second level than on any other.

Finally, he reached a hallway that was filled with the sound. Many doors led to rooms complete sealed off; the walls in contact with the river were blocked off by heavy stone walls directing the water elsewhere in the laboratory. One door, gaps sealed with a tar substance, was marked: For buckets of water, place bucket through opening and draw.

The door was locked, but the young man unhatched a wooden panel and pushed himself through the opening.

He went headfirst into a room filled waist-high in water. The room, he found, jutted out into the river about four feet and it was riddled with tiny holes to allow water to slowly trickle in. There were traces of tar sealing cracks here and there to keep the water levels under control, but the young man could see how the rotted wood could barely keep the room from collapsing; it would need maintenance soon.

The young man gulped. This was it.

Guards were looking through the opening.

He slammed himself against the rotted wood and the wall gave way. Like a rag doll, he was carried away by the river.

"I knew he was insane!" shouted a guard, closing the opening and running for one of the water room maintenance crews.

The young man lost no time trying to reach the surface once again. The river wasn't very deep, perhaps only fifteen feet deep, but it was filled with rocks. As the currents tossed him this way and that, it was all that he could do to not become a messy spot upon the rocks. As he narrowly missed one, he grabbed for it, flinching and letting a bit of precious air escape when the jagged ends cut into his hands.

But he held on and using the rock, he managed to break the surface of the river.

He gasped for air, marveling that he wasn't dead yet. He had been tossed to the other side of the river bank, some hundred feet downstream from where he had started.

The guards barely gave him a minutes rest. Already, they were running towards him, shouting for boats.

Groaning, he hoisted himself onto the opposite shore and managed to break into a slow run, a miracle considering how his legs felt like lead.

But he knew he couldn't keep it up for long. With every step, he felt more like collapsing. To make it worse, he thought he could hear the guards in the distance.

To make it even worse (he cursed his luck), he had run himself into a dead end. The forest was shallower than he thought and ended at a long stretch of sheer cliff he didn't even want to attempt climbing with his cut up hands.

He sank to the floor to lean against the thickly ivy-covered wall. Just a few minutes, he thought, then he would start moving again.

To his surprise, the ivy gave way and he nearly tumbled into a small cave. Or, it wasn't really a cave, more like a dented area in the rock cliff with an overhang where the ivy just continued to grow, like a curtain. This was as good as a place as any to hide for awhile.

He huddled behind a rock that was just randomly there in the middle of the little cave.

The young man could barely contain a curse when the rock suddenly slid a foot and he hit his head.

Did nothing stay in place in this forest?

A/N: This felt a bit too short. Oh well.