One Question: How the Heck did I get into the World of Howl's Moving Castle?

Chapter 3: In which an important character appears

A/N: Okay! Finally done with this chapter. I am so sorry that it took me so long to publish, but, yah, stuff happened. And then there were MCAs and other such miserable nonsense. Anyway, it's up now and as I am ashamed at the lack of anything exciting having happened to my character yet, I will attempt to remedy the unacceptable boringness in this chapter. It's also the longest one yet. Oh! And I got a question asking were the OC was. She's in the cottage/building/type-thing in the Waste from the drawing. Also thanks for the reviews and PMs. Keep it up!

I expect you assume I fainted. Considering the insane thing that had just happened to me, it wouldn't be surprising if I did. I probably should have. But I didn't. I guess if the only two options are fight or flight, passing out like a sissy doesn't have much of a place in the equation. Besides, I had had enough of unconsciousness. I was done with that. So now, staring very calmly (quite an accomplishment) out the window, I fought the urge to sink to my knees and commence freaking out. Instead, I resorted to an annoying habit of mine. Very quietly and breathlessly I began to talk to myself. Forcing myself to calm down. After a couple seconds of muttering "Okay, okay, okay. No big deal. You just got sucked into some sort of… alternate reality. That's not so weird? Right? Many fan girls would love to be in your position right now. Heck. Haven't you yourself imagined this before? Yup. Okay. Just calm down now. It's not like the Witch of the Waste is at you doorstep or anything. Oh crap! That did not just help calm me down! Okay. Okay Relax. Now walk over to the window." (Wow. I annoy myself.)

Turning and quickly walking over to the window, I stared out into the fog that the castle that was rapidly disappearing back into. By the time it had once again vanished from view I had come to a decision. "You know", I said aloud, "On second thought this is pretty freak'n amazing! I mean, here I am, standing in the middle of a room, in the world of Howl's Moving Castle! How awesome is that?" Then my curious nature came out and I began to flit around the room exclaiming over every minor detail. "Ooh! What's this? What's it for? Ahh! Is this real? So cool! Squeal." Wait. Where exactly am I. I mean I know I'm in Ingary*, and I assume that I'm in the waste from what I've seen outside, but where… Well only one way to find out I guess. Spotting a large set of doors parallel to the picture window I trotted over to them. Aww. No special portal door for me. Somehow, I felt that the omission of a portal (as like the one in the movie) was a huge injustice. But I was way too excited to pout. Pushing open the door I all but leaped out side and into the small courtyard-like space that lay beyond the doorway.

It was definitely the waste. There was no mistaking the terrain, despite the plentiful amount of vegetation, for anything but the waste. The air was damp and cool. It smelled so much cleaner than the suburbs which I had lived in before. I wondered if this entire world was like this. Well I was definitely going to find out. But not yet. After all I still had an entire house to explore. My excitement taking over, I turned on my heals and was greeted by the all-too-familiar cottage of my drawings. "Okay… I would love to say that I'm surprised, so…Why aren't I?" I guess I'd had my suspicions. But I chose not to dwell on that quite yet.

Walking briskly back inside I took stock of my new (My new what? Home? House? Lodging? None of those fit.) Residence? That's a little bit closer. Well I'll figure out what to call it later. For now I guess I'll just see what's inside.

I spent the next hour or so exploring the house. Two floors, two bedrooms (and one that was so small, I assumed it was a guest room), an absolutely awesome story-book style kitchen (much like the one in the movie) that contained a small dining area (really just a table and chairs), the room I arrived in, a wash/bathroom, and a main room (the one with the big picture window facing the waste). The entire place was incredibly dusty and filled with clutter although sparsely furnished. There was a stone fireplace in the main room with a weird overhang and bordered by iron pot hangers. It was full of ancient looking soot. I wondered if the chimney was usable. It was freezing in here! I would love to light a fire. But I didn't want to light a fire in there if the chimney was blocked otherwise the room would very quickly become crammed with smoke. I looked around and saw a candle sitting on a side table. Freeing it from the pile of stuff encasing it, I picked it up and started looking for some matches. I didn't see the spark that was tiredly glowing on the tip of the wick. Finally finding a few long stray matches, I brushed one against a stiff scrap of torn leather I had also excavated from the catastrophe on the table. I smiled to myself when the match flared up. I had always wanted to use that type of match when I was little. Blowing the dust off the candle, I touched the match to it and watched as it quickly enflamed. Then I carried it over to the hearth. Leaning down I lowered my head and looking up, peered inside. A draft gently stirred my hair against my forehead. The chimney was pitch black of course. I carefully held up and maneuvered the candle until it fully lit up the chimney. It should be able to hold a fire once I lifted the damper. I reached for the handle and pushed open. It screeched in protest and a mound of soot rained down on me. I moved my head out of the way just fast enough to avoid the full wrath of the ashes. But I still emerged looking like a chimney sweep. I coughed, swore, and set down the candle in the middle of the grate. I turned around and use a dusty white tablecloth to wipe away as much of the filth as I could. But my cloths stubbornly continued to look vaguely gothic. I sighed. What sight greeted me as I turned around made my heart jolt.

The candle flame was now a metallic green-blue. And growing larger by the second. It danced as if caught in an unseen draft as I neared it. Then I swear I saw three purple slits appear in the center of the flame. Two small ones on top and a slightly bigger one on the bottom. It flickered and I bit off a very loud gasp.

"What was that?" A small crackling voice emanating from the flame asked dryly.

"F-fire daemon! Wha-" I stared at the daemon wide eyed and tried to calm dawn my speeding heart.

"You're not from around here are you? Yes, I'm a fire daemon. My name is Lucien. Thank you for freeing me. I wouldn't have lasted much longer. The magic left in that candle wouldn't have been enough for me to feed on for much longer. A month or so more in that condition and I would have faded and died. This hearth should keep me alive for a wile longer. Mean wile, what's your name and why do you reek of transportation spells?"

I coughed to cover a stutter as I tried to process the sudden rush of conversation from the apparent Lucien. "Uh. Yes. It's no problem. What do you mean transportation spells?"

"What's your name?"

Well isn't that a great answer. Should I tell him my name? In most stories I've heard it's generally a bad idea to tell a daemon your name. But didn't Calcifer know Sophie's at the beginning of the book? Besides Lucien has no reason to dislike me. I hurriedly answered realizing how long it had taken me to reply. "My name's Ellie."

The flame made a whining noise. "I'm close to dying here Ellie; put some logs in the grate. I can't reach." He swayed in the direction of a pile of logs next to the fireplace.

Without a word I piled a few of them in my arms and dropped them in the fire place at the foot of the candle. Then I searched around until I found some crumpled paper and was bringing it over to the logs intending to use it to help the fi-Lucien catch fire to the wood. But he only waved it away. Then in one quick motion he seemed to jump from his perch on the candle to the pile of logs and with a flicker they burst into flames. I noticed he was now a little more reddish in color. The light thump I heard as he did so was ignored.

He sighed. The sound a pleasant one like the burning of very dry wood. Then he shifted around for a moment, appearing to be trying to make himself more comfortable before he looked me over with his dark eyes now flecked with bits of silver and replied: "You're a mess."

Looking down I realized he was right. In the excitement I had forgotten about my little incident with the soot. Mustering some pride I said plainly, "Yah. I'm gonna go look for some water to wash it off with." And started off in the direction of the courtyard, where I had seen a water pump. Knowing that the faucets inside would be bone-dry and useless from an examination I had conducted when I had first explored the room.

"Where are you going? The baths over there." He said, a skinny flame shooting out from his side like an arm.

"But isn't the water off? I don't think anyone's used it in a long time." With some effort I stopped myself from voicing the next question that came to my mind.

"Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it. I get the water from hot-springs in the waste." His eyes flashed silver suddenly and I heard the hissing of pipes over my head. With a nod of thanks I headed up the stairwell. Under normal circumstances I might have taken this opportunity to explore the room more thoroughly. There were several clumsily labeled packets and jars lined up on a shelf below the mirror that looked promising. Not that I would have tried to use any of them. For example, one mistaken pinch of the "drying power" (not sure if there should be a "w" in the word)** and I could end up a shriveled old lady. No, I think I'll leave those alone for now thank you very much.

I turned on my heal and saw the bath full and wafting herb scented steam. I sniffed. It was sure better than smelling like a fire place. I was greatly relived to note that the porcelain tub was no longer caked with inexplicably colorful grime. I scrubbed myself clean of the soot quickly and finding a row fluffy white towels hanging off hooks on the wall I dried myself and scurried off to the bedroom in search of cleaner clothes ( mine still looking a bit like a ninja suit.)

I came back down the stairs a few minutes later in a worn looking white shirt and pair of black chinos. The chinos being the closest thing to jeans I could find. But I kept my sneakers.

Stumbling down the stairs I returned to the fire place feeling much better. "You realize that you're wearing mans cloths don't you?" He stopped me before I could reply. "But I suppose it can't be helped. There hasn't been anyone here for quite a wile and it is an improvement from what you were wearing." I frowned. "I'll try not to take that as an insult. Besides, the one dress there was up there was pretty moth-eaten." I didn't add that the dress had been more than mildly repulsive (all faded colors and ruffles) and that I much preferred what I was wearing now. The dusty old wardrobe hadn't offered many choices and I planned on getting my original clothes cleaned as soon as possible. Whatever the fire daemon said.

Lucien gazed around the room and sighed dramatically. "This place is disgusting. It's fallen so much. I would never have let it get this bad had I been in a state to help it. It's that stupid wizard Fermans fault for going and getting himself killed."

"What? What are you talking about!" I shouted, my frustration finally bubbling over as the daemon rambled on. It sure was easy for him to ask questions but I needed answers. "I just got sucked into some other world, with no idea how to get back, a fire is talking to me, there's a room full of potions or something just a few feet away, and what the heck were you talking about 'transportation spells'?" I finished my rant huffing and watched as a somewhat startled fire daemon stared back at me.

From the way the licks of green flame I assumed were his eyebrows slid slightly down I got the impression that he was mulling something over. I stared intently back at his dark gold eyes. An accomplishment considering the way they shifted as one would imagine the flames of a fire to. After a wile he replied. "It seems you have a lot of questions. This could take a wile so I'll answer them in order. First off, Wizard Ferman was my old master." He spat the word master like it tasted bad. "He died several years ago. I don't know exactly how long it's been since it was so easy to loose track of time in that candle, but I think it's been around five years. He died in a wizards duel with the Witch of Norvania. So I was stuck here. I would have died when he did except that there was just enough of his and my magical energy stored in the stones of this fire place to keep me alive. There was a spell with his blood in that candle too."

I interrupted him here. "So when I found you the spell had almost lost effect, right?" I could tell he was avoiding my part in his revival. Probably so it wouldn't seem like he owed me. Well I wasn't that gullible. "And what about your contract with him? Wouldn't you still have died when he did, regardless of how much power you had squirreled away?"

"Normally yes, and I will die once this power is exhausted, but our contract was… abstract. Which leads me to my question: How do you know that I have a contract keeping me tied up and not know what I mean by transportation spell?"

"I'll answer your questions after mine are answered." I was talking to him in a voice that sounded much more authoritative and sure of itself than I did. "What was the contract?" I asked though I knew what he was going to say before he said it.

"I can't tell you. That's also part of the contract. You have to figure it out for yourself otherwise you won't be able to break it."

"And what makes you think I have any reason to break it?" I replied coolly.

"C'mon! You should feel sorry for me! I've been trapped here for years and I'm months from death!" He popped frantically, his 'arms' flailing erratically at his sides. Of course he was right, I did feel bad for him and it wasn't likely that any one else could help him. Or that anyone else could help me. Apparently he realized this too. "Look, I know you want to get home and I can help! Once I get my power back, I can send you back to wherever that is no problem! You help me and I'll help you. So do we have a deal?"

I thought for a moment. It seemed fair, but that didn't mean that he would keep his side of the bargain. Then again, if the task became too hard I could just give up and find some other way to get back home. Nothing to lose. And it meant that I could stay here for a wile. I mean I did want to go home I guess but not yet. Plus I had the added advantage of knowing that he was most likely a falling star once. This was an opportunity too great to pass up.

"Alright. It's a deal."

And with that I made a pact with a daemon

A/N: Yay! I'm done! Thank you guys so much for reading! And I thanks Cee W. (aka: Jexi-chan) for your help in thinking of a name for our beloved fire daemon. And also Ketsu-chan (aka: Gaaraluff146) for helping me decide on a name for the country "Norvania". And so Heze-chan doesn't feel left out, thank you for keeping me writing. Otherwise this chapter probably would have been updated even later! Oh. And all you other people who read/reviewed you get a virtual cookie. Yay! Please Review! Thanks for reading! I'll try to update more often. I've already started on the next chapter. :)

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* Ingary is the name of the country that Howl's Moving Castle takes place in. In both the book and the movie.

**This detail I kind of copied from the book. I don't know, it popped into my head wile I was writing that scene so I decided to add it.