So, yeah, this is pretty horrible, but it's here. Part 3 of Where the Lights Mingle.
"You drugged me!"
I pace back and forth in front of the fireplace where, just a few moments ago, Overseer Huxley and I had been having a pleasant chat.
"I didn't drug you." Huxley throws his hands up and sighs.
"Then you did something! This was all a setup, wasn't it? You knew those Overseers would be there. You knew that building would be boarded up." I stop, standing over Huxley who sits on a faded couch, clutching an empty mug between his hands. "I bet this gash in your leg isn't even real! Nobody's stupid enough to kick their leg through a glass window." I draw my foot back, letting it accelerate forward and connect with the Overseer's calf.
"Outsider's Eyes!" Huxley yells, throwing his leg up onto the sofa, where I cannot reach it. "I assure you, I am indeed that stupid." The Overseer rubs his leg, wincing slightly.
The wound has been cleaned and bandaged and now smells heavily of some mystery herb. Just moments before, as the old woman ground the plants with a mortar and pestle, I studied Huxley whose wide eyes scanned the room repeatedly, his jaw tight. The old woman worked on his leg, humming casually as if the man in her room full of herbs, crystals, and mystery potions were not an Overseer of the Abbey of the Everyman. The poor woman. She would probably heal Huxley only to have him go straight to the Abbey after leaving her cottage. I imagine the Overseers dragging her from her home, as I had seen so many times in the city.
Huxley had mumbled something in reply, his attention occupied by the contents of the room.
I waited in silence, studying the old woman as she worked. We had simply entered her house, not knowing who she was or why she was so eager to help us. Perhaps she was just a nice person, but I always suspect others of ulterior motives when they are overly generous.
"My name is Anne," said the woman.
"Eleanor," I replied.
"Overseer William Huxley of the Abbey of the Everyman." Huxley brought his shoulders back, holding his head high. "Quite the collection you have here, Anne. You might want to take caution in what you decide to keep in your home. It is very easy for one to be influenced by the Outsider, even unintentionally."
"Oh, don't start with all that Outsider nonsense!" said Anne with a wave of her hand. I felt my breath catch in my throat, but the old woman simply rolled her eyes, hobbling closer to the Overseer. He raised an eyebrow.
"Excuse me, ma'am, but please remember to whom you speak. I am an Over-"
"And I'm an Oracle, so it should be you who remembers to whom you speak."
"Right, an - " Huxley starts, but then his face goes pale. "You weren't being serious, were you?"
"Oh yes, dear. Yes, I am-or at least I was."
"Ha!" Huxley exclaimed. "Oracles stay in their positions for life."
"Do they, now?" Anne said nothing further, and Huxley, for the first time since Eleanor had met him, said nothing.
In fact, Huxley stayed quiet throughout the ordeal, though he seemed to mutter under his breath every now and then.
I focused on Huxley, noting every twitch and shift of his body, my eyes wandering to the strange symbol marked on the back of his hand. He had somehow transformed from a man into a mystery. He made no sense. But it had to make sense, his power-somehow, it had to be explainable. But all I could see was the impossible, sitting on a table and wincing slightly as an old woman pulled glass from his leg.
"My, you really got this lodged in here good. What did you do? Stick your foot through a window?" The old woman tsked at him, shaking her head. "You really must be more careful."
Then, there was Anne, petite with soft wrinkles, her hair pulled back into a long braid. The corners of her lips tilted slightly upward as she worked. She plucked the glass from Huxley's flesh, her hands steady and firm. Once the glass was out, she would have to clean and disinfect the wounds. I scanned the shelves for the appropriate liquid-ah, yes. In the brown bottle.
Anne took the bottle from the shelf, opening it and pouring a bit onto a clean towel.
"This will sting," she warned.
Then the wound would have to be sewn shut. Anne would need thread and a clean hooked needle.
The old woman sewed the Overseer's torn flesh back together, like a tailor mending a jacket.
And finally, the bandages.
"Well, I guess I feel a bit better," Huxley said, attempting to move his injured leg.
"You need to rest now, dear. The leg will heal quicker that way." Anne motioned toward the doorway. "Please, take a seat on the couch, and I will make us some dinner. How does that sound?" Both Huxley and I nodded eagerly. I felt as though I haven't eaten in days, and my mind wandered back to my abandoned potatoes, probably lying scattered and smashed against the cobblestone in the streets of Alder's Court.
My thoughts are interrupted by a small gasp followed by a young voice.
"Oh no! He's been hurt! I'll save you, Mister!"
Huxley and I stare at the small girl who has now appeared beside the couch. She studies the Overseer's bandaged leg, poking at it with her finger.
"It seems Gramma has done a good job, as always, but only I can perform the final step!"
The final step?
I raise an eyebrow, waiting for the girl to continue.
"Yes, the fiiiiinal step! Now, stand back!" The girl throws her arms up, her hands waving dramatically in the air. "Your leg shall be HEALED!" Suddenly, the girl approaches Huxley, bending over and folding her hands behind her back before planting a small kiss on the Overseer's bandaged leg.
"There," she says. "By tomorrow at this time, your leg will be fully healed." She smiles and giggles, looking up at Huxley's stunned face.
"Um, thank you," he mumbles. Then, the girl turns to me, her face bright.
"I'm Lynn. What's your name?"
"Eleanor," I reply. I bring my right hand to the back of my head, fidgeting with my ponytail. "That woman, Anne, she's your grandmother?"
"No, that's her name! 'Gramma'."
I look to Huxley, who shrugs, but suddenly his eyes widen, and he stares at the girl as though he remembers her from long ago.
"Are there... other children here, Lynn?"
"What? No! Just me and Gramma."
"And how did you come to live with Gramma?" Huxley's face has turned cold, like stone.
"She rescued me from the masked men. They burned my parents, and they wanted to burn me, too. But then Gramma said I should be an Oracle!"
"You're training to become an Oracle?"
The girl puts a finger to her lips.
"I don't know. After that, Gramma took me here, and now we live here together."
Lynn's answer seems to satisfy Huxley. The Overseer sighs, leaning back on the couch.
Dinnertime at Anne's cottage is a scattered and disorganized event. The old woman brings a bowl of stew and a hot roll to Huxley on the couch, while Lynn runs into the kitchen, emerging with another dinner roll tucked into a napkin. I watch as she sets the napkin on the ground, taking a bite of the bread, and then running away again.
"She's energetic." I say as I follow Anne into the kitchen. The woman raises an eyebrow.
"Oh yes, very much so. She must be to bear her burden."
Anne says nothing more.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
The old woman smiles, motioning toward the kitchen table.
"Sit, dear. Have some dinner while the bread's still hot."
As I am occupied with my stew, it takes me a while to notice that I eat alone. Once I finish my bowl, I leave the kitchen to check on Huxley, but he seems to be missing as well.
Someone screams from outside. My heart pounding, I rush out the back door.
"Ha ha!" The voices come from a flat stretch of grass just behind the well, one of them belonging to a man and the other to a woman. I approach the scene to witness an old woman, mace in hand, standing victoriously over a battered Overseer.
"You hit me right where I hurt my leg!"
"I know, Overseer. You need to be more careful."
"You deceitful witch!" Huxley's face turns red.
"Oh, come now, dear. Don't be such a so-"
"Don't you tell me what to do!" Huxley stood, pointing a finger in the old woman's face. "I am one of the best Overseers in Dunwall-"
"Yes, one of the best Overseers in Dunwall who stuck his leg through a glass window." I waltz toward the two, lifting an eyebrow.
"You're never going to let me forget that, are you?" Huxley sighs. "The one mistake I make. Damn it." The Overseer turns away, his fists clenched and his breathing heavy.
It is only then that I realize that Huxley is genuinely upset about the incident. And here I was thinking that he was just some hard-headed Overseer, used to acting before thinking.
"It was just a joke, Huxley, I - " I hesitate. "I apologize if I upset you." I say the words clearly, emotionlessly, with my head held high, as though I were simply stating a fact about the ocean or whales.
"You do not understand," Huxley replies, his back still turned. "I must not make mistakes such as these. I panicked. I - I'm not supposed to panic."
"Aw, come on. You didn't panic." I try to put on my best reassuring smile. "You're the one who got us here safely, after all."
Huxley stays silent for a moment before turning toward me. He nods.
"I suppose so. The spirits are drawn to me, now that I have fallen so low."
I open my mouth to utter generic reassurance phrase number two, but Huxley continues to speak.
"What is happening to me? Why me?"
"Oh shush, child," says Anne. Her words seem to break the strange spell that bound both Huxley and me just moments ago.
"I am no child, old woman." Huxley turns toward her.
"Then stop whining." The wrinkles on Anne's face move as she twists her mouth.
Lynn has wandered out the back door and makes her way toward us. I can't help but notice that the girl's attention is fixated on Overseer Huxley.
"It's because you're interesting," she says. Both Huxley and I turn to her, puzzled.
"What are you talking about?" Huxley asks.
"You wanted to know why it was you who was chosen. It's because you're interesting." Lynn smiles, looking up at the Overseer.
"By who? The Outsider?" I ask sarcastically. Before Lynn can answer, Anne speaks once again.
"Oh no, not more Outsider talk, Lynn. We've discussed this before."
"But - "
"So, you don't believe in all the Abbey nonsense? Even though you're an Oracle?" I cut Lynn off before she can speak.
"I was an Oracle," Anne replies. "I am not an Oracle anymore."
"And why is that?" Huxley seems to have returned to his normal self. "Has the Outsider made you stray from your path?"
Anne chuckles.
"If there were one, I suppose you could say that he did. But I do not believe the Outsider exists, so-"
Huxley gasps, his eyes wide. He takes a step backward.
"How, how did this happen?"
"It happened over time, dear. With much study, observation, and meditation. I realized that many of the incidents supposedly caused by the Outsider could be explained in normal, natural ways. I'm certainly not denying the existence of spirits. Perhaps they are here, working with nature at this very moment, but the Outsider-"
"The Outsider is not natural, so how can you say for sure if he's real or not?" Huxley spits.
Anne shrugs.
"I can't really say anything for sure, but I know I've seen more damage done by the idea of the Outsider than by the Outsider himself."
"Which is why we try to-"
"Yes, you warn the public against him, but how do you know anything about him? Have you met the Outsider?" Anne asks.
"No, but High Overseer Perry-"
"-was high as a kite, most days."
Huxley's jaw drops.
"Wh-what? You can't say that about him!" He sputters.
"There's a certain plant from Pandyssia-very closely related to Oxrush, but with certain side effects... "
"High Overseer Perry would never-"
"High Overseer Perry did, High Overseer Gainford did, and many High Oracles, as well. Ha! In my chapel many of us smoked at least once a week, though not for recreation-mostly." Anne's eyes crinkle, the corners of her lips turning upward.
I watch Huxley's face, attempting to hold back the smirk that so desperately wants to form on my own. But his expression is priceless. I've never seen that much emotion on an Overseer's face, though I admit, Huxley is the only one I've seen without his mask.
"So, basically," I start. "You're saying that the entire Abbey is made up of plant-heads. The same Abbey that's allowed to kidnap and kill people."
Anne notes my smug expression, her face darkening.
"You can just wipe that smirk off your face right now, young lady," she says, putting her hands on her hips. "The Abbey is a complicated institution filled with corrupt men. It's the women who make the policy, but the men carry it out. Needless to say, much gets lost in translation."
"But why don't you just tell them the truth?" I ask.
"The truth? What are the Oracles supposed to say? 'Perhaps there is no such thing as the Outsider, and our entire religion is a sham.' Ha! We'd be branded as heretics, Oracles or not. And then all of our work will have been in vain. What I want is for religion and natural philosophy to work together. Imagine what we could accomplish!"
"We already do. The Abbey encourages new technology, for it eliminates the need for magic-" Huxley resumes his Overseer demeanor.
"Yes, I understand that the Abbey loves all the new technology that's been popping up these days. But, do you even know how any of it works? Do you even know how nature works?" Anne eyes Huxley, waiting for an answer.
"Do you?"
Anne shrugs.
"I only know what I've studied, and the information we do have is far from the whole picture. The world is a humongous place, you know. Filled will all kinds of things, from the biggest trees to the tiny creatures we can't even see with our own eyes."
Huxley turns toward me with a questioning look.
"It's true," I confirm.
"But if there are creatures we cannot see with our eyes, then how can you deny the Outsider's existence?"
"I simply haven't seen any evidence that suggests the Outsider is a real being. I have seen magic, but not the Outsider."
Huxley's face has turned red.
"But the Outsider is real!"
"Oh, sure he is," Anne says, waving her hand. "And all Oracles are blind and pure. The Outsider is simply a myth to make the populus behave."
"Then, how did I get this?" Huxley holds out his hand.
"I don't know," Anne says, shugging, "But I'm sure it can be explained if the natural philosophists are up to it." The old woman eyes me briefly. "That is, if they're not too stubborn. Magic is just another part of nature, you know."
"Of course The Outsider exists!" Lynn interjects. The small girl has been standing quietly, forgotten in the debate. "How else could he have gotten here?" The little girl stamps her foot in the grass and points at Huxley's hand. "I believe you, Mister Huxley."
Huxley acknowledges the girl with a slight nod, but he is not done with Anne.
"Then who makes the magic?" Huxley folds his arms over his chest.
"Who makes anything natural? It simply is, just as a tree, it is natural," Anne replies.
"There you go again! Natural? Ha!" Huxley puts a hand to his forehead. "Magic is anything but natural. I know this from experience."
"Mommy was a witch. Daddy was a witch. They burned together, screaming in the fiery pit!" Lynn recites. She turns to Huxley. There is no sorrow in her eyes. "Gramma is a witch, but the good kind."
"I've taken note," Huxley replies, his eyes locked on the old woman. "But there are no good witches. Remember that."
All of this talk about magic makes my head hurt, and I find myself wanting to be back at the Academy, where every problem has a solution. Where every question has an answer.
"You know what, Huxley?" I say suddenly. The Overseer and Anne fall silent, turning toward me. "You're right. You've been right all along."
Huxley's eyes widen.
"I - I was?" he sputters.
"Yes. You were right to turn to the Academy to answer your question. I admit it, okay? If you haven't been drugging me or something this entire time-" Somehow, I doubt Huxley's intelligence when it comes to such manipulation. "-then you transported us instantaneously from that warehouse to this cottage. My guess is that you've stumbled upon some sort of advanced technology." I note the smile that has formed on Anne's face. "If we're going to figure out what's happening with you, we're going to need someone with a better understanding of it, and I think I know who we can talk to."
We make our way inside the cottage, exhausted from our talk, but Lynn is not even nearly done. She stands next to Huxley, hopping her way through the back door as she holds on to the Overseer's hand.
"I think that the Outsider is just bored, all alone in the Void. He has all that magic and nothing to use it on! If I had magic, I'd give some of it to my friends, and we could use it on people-spank the bad men with brooms and give candies to all the good children. I'd give some to you, Mister Huxley, to catch all the bad witches, like Mommy and Daddy, and burn them so that they'll never hurt anyone ever again! And Miss Ellie-nor, I'd give you powers so you can bring lights to every place in the whole Empire - and Pandyssia, too - and nobody would ever have to kill a whale ever again, and the whales would live free and sing their pretty songs with the birds. And then I'd ride one of them!" She adds.
I chuckle briefly, but then stop, turning my head toward the girl.
"How did you know that? That I'm trying to make cruelty-free and renewable energy?"
Lynn looks up at me with wide eyes.
"When I look at you, I can see the lights," she answers.
Huxley leaves to put Lynn to bed - the girl refuses to let go of his hand - and I am left alone in the living room.
I find myself on the couch staring into the lit fireplace. The flames dance, wood and bright ash crackling beneath them... almost like magic.
Having escaped Lynn for a while, Huxley enters the room, hobbling toward me. He sighs, taking a seat.
"I would have killed you," he starts.
"What?" I reply. "What do you mean?"
"I would have killed you by now - or at least I would have turned you in to be detained by the Abbey until you confessed to your crimes." Huxley's face is turned toward the fireplace.
"My crimes? What did I do?"
"In the eyes of the Abbey, everyone is guilty. Everyone deserves to be burned," the Overseer murmurs.
I scoff.
"Well, I could've told you that. Like I said before - I've known people who have been -"
"-Yes, I know, I know." Huxley waves his hand briefly. "But you wouldn't be here, and Anne would be dead, and Lynn - I would have killed her, too. Evil lurks in even the most innocent of places, and I've seen it." Huxley's eyes lock onto mine, turning my skin cold. "I know you don't believe me Eleanor, but I've seen horrible things. People just do the most awful things when given power over others."
"I know," I reply, my eyes meeting his gaze. I can see the uneasiness that has formed on the Overseer's face. He knows exactly who I am referring to.
We turn away from each other.
"So, we're going tomorrow?" Huxley asks, changing the topic.
"Yeah, we'll go tomorrow," I confirm.
I am more than elated to finally be able to go to bed after such a long and strange day. Anne shows me to the guest room.
"Your Overseer friend can sleep on the couch," she says with a wink. "I think I like you more than him, so far."
She does? She's hardly said a word to me this entire night. Mostly she just argued with Huxley.
Once Anne has left, I decide to wash the day's dirt and grime off of my skin. A wash basin and towel has been left on the dresser, and I sigh, holding the damp cloth to my face.
I hear a giggle in the room next to mine. Lynn's room. It is followed by Huxley's deep voice. I thought Huxley had put Lynn to be already, but the voices are unmistakingly theirs. Perhaps I should check on them - make sure Lynn's okay. She seems to have taken to Huxley quite quickly, but I worry that the Overseer will feed her nothing but Abbey propaganda.
I sneak into the hall, walking on the balls of my feet, until I near the door to Lynn's bedroom. The door is cracked open, giving me a way to look inside. It seems as though the two are having a pleasant conversation, Lynn sitting up in bed, and Huxley half-sitting half-squatting near her in a chair that is far too small for him.
It feels wrong to spy on them, but the girl piques my interest more than anything. She is an enigma-something to be studied so that she will make sense within the laws of the world.
Lynn waves her hand in the air, her lips curling upward into a smile.
"Who are you waving at?" Huxley asks, scanning the room.
No doubt, one of the many spirits that roam around us, I think sarcastically.
"I'm waving at the Outsider, to say goodnight."
"You can see him?" Huxley asks, leaning forward.
"No, but he's watching. I can feel it." Lynn's eyes scan the room.
"Does he watch you all the time?"
"No, he's never watched me," Lynn answers.
"This is the first time he's ever watched you?" The chair creaks as Huxley shifts in the small chair, leaning his weight forward, but Lynn is more than happy to answer, her words as clear to me as they are to Huxley.
"He's not watching because of me, silly! It's because you're here. He's watching you! He watches you all the time."
I shudder, turning from the door and tip-toing back to my room.
Once my head hits the pillow, the lights are extinguished all at once, and in my dream is not the handsome black-eyed young man, but a young girl with dark hair. Lynn. There is wisdom in her eyes.
"You have to go back," she whispers, her form fading and then disappearing into the empty blue of the Void.
