Taking a break from his duties at the Crazed Heifer, Young Grimwold followed a certain patron - Treguard - at a distance to the market, hoping that they might end up in conversation. But he was a slave to his shyness, as he had been at the tavern, and made sure the Dungeon Master left without noticing him. YG browsed the market stalls for a while but couldn't persuade himself that he deserved to own anything new. When the guilt of not supporting the stallholders' livelihoods became too much, he trudged away. Not yet ready to reimmerse himself in the stale air of the tavern, but afraid of what will happen if he goes somewhere quiet and can hear himself think, he approaches the square.
YG sighs, sparing the air the cruelty of an extended stay in his lungs. He is feeling the cold in his limbs but suspects it is all being supplied from within.
YG's employment at the Crazed Heifer is as stable, and as stabilising, as anything he could hope for. The work is menial so expectations are low, making it easy for YG not to disappoint anyone. The serving girls are friendly, able to look him in the face without betraying any repulsion, but not so friendly that he gets false hope. Staying in the staff lodgings upstairs allows him as much independence from his parents as he cares for. YG is in control.
In control of a life that will probably be the same each day until it reaches the expectancy for a half-ogre half-questionably-human, however long that is.
On a good day, YG can accept that he deserves not to feel sad or pained. Yet he cannot help wondering if he could, should, maybe, be doing more. He is strong enough to uproot trees and intelligent enough to have conversations in Latin. How remarkable, how enviable to be the brawniest and the brainiest one in the room, over and over; how pathetic, how shameful to do nothing with it.
Yet with the conceit that someone made him this way for a reason comes the conviction that he is not meant to succeed. He could pack a knapsack today and resume the hunt for his mother's lost pet or begin the search for his lost brother, but these demand ambition and he has none to give. Everything notable YG has ever done - touring the realm with a minstrel, battering a Dreadnort, helping to defeat Bloodfang, enduring the Battle Royale, fighting a magic flying fish, smashing that enchanted brick, riding a pegathor out of a burning forest - he has done because it was easier to say yes or impossible to say no. Everything except perhaps hurting a maid because she dared not to love him.
What if there was no reason for YG being this way, but also no reason for him not to have ambition? He could try to meet his demons head on and transform himself. But look what happened to those dungeon adventurers in the Fourth Phase when they tried to cast a transformation. It takes too long and the darkness won't wait. It humours only itself.
The embodiment of the dungeons' darkness was Mogdred, said to be the other face of Merlin. YG has never quite believed this. But if true, perhaps it shows the price of ambition, of being special: being "two-faced". It is dishonest, it is unsafe, it is complex, and a threat to the calm simplicity that YG knows he needs in his life. Would Merlin have given up his power to do good if it could have prevented Mogdred from doing evil? Maybe that's what happened. Worse to have an alter ego than no ego.
Reaching the square, YG has reached his usual temporary resolution: it's risky to thrive and it's enough to survive. Just like every other villager milling around here. Worthy enough folk, none of whom is a Treguard or a Hordriss or a Merlin, and they are content with that. Personalities but not participants. Non-player characters, staying safely out of sight of chance.
Except for that cook outside the church, courting attention by having a panic over some sort of blue club.
A cook who looks an awful lot like Young Grimwold's old acquaintance Callimpsest.
After getting outside, Callimpsest froze, aware that the plagiaricer would very soon be anything but frozen. This was not like dungeoneering, where redeeming a quest object all but ended the journey. He still has a great distance to cover, he knows not how, and the unknown consequences of his inevitable failure are too much for him to deal with. He descends into a wordless frenzy, even though in one sense he has never had more words at his fingertips. The villagers, ignorant of what is at stake, pass by in amusement.
Seeing Young Grimwold across the square, Callimpsest tames his spasms and beckons YG over. Forgetting that he is a familiar face in unfamiliar garb, Callimpsest becomes impatient with YG's hesitation and almost drops the plagiaricer. This makes him panic even more. As the frowning ogre approaches, Callimpsest tries to compose himself, hoping that YG will not let him down.
YG hides his irritation as Callimpsest frets and flails, expecting YG to instantly understand something that he does not see fit to explain properly. Is this what having a long-term acquaintance means: having to absorb self-centred nonsense without notice or appreciation? YG feels ill-equipped to offer any compassion - but something in Callimpsest's ravings makes him vaguely curious.
It seems that Callimpsest wants to get to the Knightmare Boarding School's library immediately. But why? Revisiting the ruins of one's past is not something YG can recommend. Sad memories may be compelling but they are hardly urgent.
Looking away from Callimpsest's overwrought expression, he sees a drop fall from Callimpsest's ice device, hit the ground and transform. Picking it up, he feels the pages of the book. He starts to understand. To care. Another person wants his help. But...
"I'm sorry, I don't know what to do. Shall we contact Hordriss and ask him to..."
Tell Hordriss? And have him confiscate the plagiaricer and ruin everything and scold Callimpsest into the ground with some patronising mage's rhetoric (known among cynics as "hexplaining") and nauseatingly poor Latin? What are assinine suggestions like that meant to achieve? Young Grimwold is supposed to be clever.
"NO!"
Callimpsest shakes his head so vigorously that he jostles the plagiaricer.
He can't think. He's here. He needs to be there. Now. Somehow.
YG frowns as he watches Callimpsest steady himself. He is offended by this rudeness, but knows he will feel worse if he fails to help. If there's already magic involved, sensitive magic, then maybe Callimpsest will welcome a non-magical solution. If only the pegathors were here.
"Well, l-let me find a horse. Or there might be a broomstick at the market. Or a dragon caller. If the Scaramongers..."
"THEREISNOTIME! NOTIME!
"Please."
Please what? thinks Young Grimwold. What the flying Heggatty does he want? Can't he pick his feet up and run?
YG has an idea. He wishes he hadn't. But he can't dislodge it. He can't, so help him, improve on it. The mind loses and the ogre wins again. He falls to his knees.
"Get on.
"GET ON."
Moments later, Young Grimwold is pounding through the streets with Callimpsest on his back.
He tries not to take pleasure in villagers throwing themselves out of the way and lamenting their fallen piles of fruit. He tries not to take umbrage at Callimpsest's constant directions. He'll charge him silver and gold when this is over. As books fall past them, they hurtle out of Wolfenden and towards the school.