Summary: Beneš and Udržal add Mucha into the loop, the trio get a job as waiters at a Prague café favoured by artistic types, and Glauer and Harrer take a small tour of Josefov with a member of the Freemason Lodge.


Notes: All the player are now ready and I even managed to finish the work in time. I may have slightly leaned into the joke that Beneš and Mucha share first names with the Elric in the first part of the chapter. My obsessive attention to historical accuracies has been causing me some issues, since I would go like 'oh yes, these people were running around' and then I found out that they were either too young or somewhere else. Anyway, this is a all for 'Long is the Road,' so see you next time at some point in January, when I start writing 'The Thresholds.' Meanwhile I will be doing two stories for Azrael's Stories, since that verse has more stories overall.


The Ministers of Foreign Affairs and National Defence were not the type to travel to Zbiroh by train. So, of course, they were driven by a white car with a tarpaulin roof named Laurin & Klement – Škoda 105. Technically, this was at least in part as a giant advertising campaign, since of course they were given an opportunity to buy the car by the company. This visit was, however, bound to also be awkward. The owner of the château was Hieronymus Colloredo – Mansfeld.

While he and Alfons Mucha got along well on account of their shared passion in painting – indeed, Mucha used one of the main halls as his painting atelier – the nobleman was still loyal to the old Austro-Hungarian Empire and its ideals. Having to suffer members of the republican government that overthrew his beloved Imperial dynasty would be really annoying. Mucha insisted that his own benefactor permitted this meeting, but did not go into details as to what that agreement necessitated.

The access road led from the centre of Zbiroh around the bottom of the château garden and required the car to stop before a triple arched gate with ironed gate beneath each arch. Their driver ran out to ring the bell and after a moment the middle gate opened up to allow them to enter. The two pillars supporting the arches were so close, that both Ministers thought for a moment they would crash into them on the side they were looking out.

It took a two-minute drive uphill and in the process slowly turning a hundred and eight degree around for them to reach the top of the hill. The parking places in front of the main entrance were surrounded on both sides by plinths with lion statues on them, but they continued on through the large front gate, that was also arched, because the previous owner, Baron Strousberg, had money to be extravagant. Their driver stopped next to a fountain in the courtyard, and they disembarked under the withering glared of Colloredo – Mansfeld.

They were not aware of his valiant attempts to intimidate them, since he was glaring from a window they did not look to. He asked his servants to take care of this visit, and not just because he could not really speak Czech. "Greetings, Mr. Beneš, Mr. Udržal, welcome to Zbiroh château," the man dressed in suit welcomed them with a slight bow as they approached him. "Mr. Mucha is waiting for you upstairs. Please follow me," he added and entered inside the building.

He led them into a giant hall with an oval glass roof, from which hung a chandelier that looked like a bunch of grapes. The walls were attached to the oval roof by arches that made it look like the space between the walls and the roof were covered by large fruit peals. At the bottom of each were half-circle insets filled with paintings. Aside from the doors on each side crowned by Greek style tympanum decoration, the rest of the walls were invisible. The room was filled by giant canvases four by six metres large.

"Mr. Mucha, your guests are here," the servant announced, and from somewhere hidden behind the canvases the man's voice came. "Welcome, Misters Ministers, come and take a seat. I will be with you shortly. I just need to finish some details here." They walked into his workshop and saw large sheets covered with vague outlines in preparation for later work. One had many figures of people and horses lying on the ground and standing in the background – likely another battle scene.

Another one was a long procession of people in Slavic dresses. An Eastern Orthodox style church or monastery in the background and close to the middle was a figure wearing a crown – probably another piece from Balkan history. Mucha himself was working on the details of a cloaked figure near the bottom of his third work. It was another crowd scene with hints of a chapel behind them. However, instead of a religious painting, at the spherical roof chapel was a large black eagle that wore the Bohemian coat of arms.

"There we are. His majesty must look properly impressive," Mucha said as he finally put his brushes aside. Seemingly not caring for having colour splattered all over his cloak, he sat down at a small table with them. "Which monarch is that," Beneš asked. "Can't you guess," Mucha smiled and pointed at the coat of arms of a lion with twin tails. "Mr. Mucha, we have had many kings," Udržal pointed out. "Very well, it is the King of Iron and Gold." "Ah, Přemysl Otakar II himself," Beneš noted, and the artist nodded. "Before his unfortunate demise in battle against the Habsburgs."

"Does your benefactor not mind such words said against his favourites," Udržal asked with his own smile. "Lord Colloredo – Mansfeld does not mind it. After all, that King was the ancestor of the later Habsburg monarchs thanks to Elisabeth Přemyslid and Anna Jagiellon, regardless. But I thought we did not come here to discuss painting or history." "You are right," Beneš said and coughed slightly. "How much do you know about the Thule Society?" Alfons Mucha gave him a slight frown.

"Dear Eduard, you are barking on a very wrong tree there. I only know vaguely of those Ariosophists of Eckhart. If that is what you want information about..." "No, we already know a lot of details about them as a group. The reason we came is that they sent some of their agents to Prague. They appear to be searching for information about the city's magical, occult and mystical past." Now the artist started frowning heavily.

"That is not news I was expecting to hear, and it is heavily concerning. Stories of the magic connected to our capital are filled with powers that would be dangerous if they fell into the hands of arrogant people like that. The Ariosophic community has been struggling to find a new purpose since the millenarian prophecies of Guido von List failed to come into being and instead Germany and Austria were struck down in the Great War. Their continuous perversion of Theosophic thought is concerning to see.

A general sentiment throughout their sphere is that a continuation of that conflict is coming. I guess it is only understandable that they would pursue stories of things that could be potential used as power. We are talking about anti-Semitic racists, who seriously consider the Holy Grail or the Spear of Longinus as lost artefacts of the Aryan civilization." "We are likely going to interact with them, because one of them is a Turkish Freemason and he is coming to Prague personally," Udržal told him, and Mucha suddenly looked highly annoyed.

"We will have to meet with Sebottendorf?!" "Oh, you are aware of Mr. Glauer," Beneš asked. "Eduard, I only know the man from his writings, and that already does not set up a good view of him. He always comes to a group saying that he is a seeker of knowledge that seeks the hidden, then promises to maintain secrecy and the moment he learns enough, he writes it all down and publishes it to the public. People don't keep stuff secret just for the sake of obscurantism.

There are stories of dangerous powers out there, and you should not trifle with them lest they prove all too true," he warned them, while leaning forward to accentuate it. "Philosopher's stones might be able to transmute metals into gold and gave people eternal lives, but they could also be used to make terrible weapons and shorten those lives. Golems are great as protectors, but terrible as enemies. Commuting with spirits and angles without checking of what nature they are can bring calamity and so on."

"Alfons, you make it sound like this stuff is all real," Beneš argued. "I have seen far too much in my life to just dismiss all the legends of Prague as myths. There are things kept hidden even from someone like me," he almost whispered to the pair opposite him. "I almost feel like it would for the best if I took a temporary holiday and joined with you in Prague." "There is no need yet," Udržal argued. "You hope there is not," Mucha corrected.


The Czechoslovak newspapers carried a lot of work advertisements, but unfortunately most of them were written in Czech. Edward eventually found a solution in the form of the Prager Presse, which, while written in German, was founded partly by the Presidential office for the sake of allowing integration of the German ethnic group in the Czechoslovak nation. "All of these sound like jobs that would not be accepting underage teens," Alphonse noted as they quickly read through the section.

"I mean, it is not absolutely necessary that all of us were employed," Noah pointed out, but got a frown in return. "It would feel too much like mooching off you two," Al told her, and she mockingly prepared to slap him. "If that is you trying to maintain 'equivalent exchange' again," she lightly threatened and received a shrug as an answer. "Well, technically we have worked in one way or another for most of the time since we were ten," his brother reminded them. Noah gave them a look for calling that work, but did not voice the argument.

"What about this one," Noah suddenly pointed at one of the advertisements for a waiter. "Café Slavia is looking for new waiter(s) with work starting this February. No previous work experience or reference necessary, ideal for all age ranges including teenagers and students looking for first or part-time work," Ed read off. "Knowledge of Czech is a bonus, but not required for the work, since both the staff and usual clientele is already bilingual," his brother approvingly noted, while Ed himself took a little pencil and a piece of paper to write down the address of 'Nationalallee (Národní třída) 1012.'

"Well, that would be one," Edward muttered and move the chair he was sitting in closer to the table. "Quite frankly, I think it is the only one," Noah said dejectedly as she quickly read the other advertisements. "Most of these are either technical jobs that demand some sort of education, or they include knowledge of Czech as a necessity or strong preference." "There are a lot of advertisements for drivers," Alphonse noticed. "I already saw several for horse-drawn carts, petrol cars and even trams."

His brother looked down and found that last one. "Oh, that is not a kind of advertisement I would expect," he told them and then looked closer. "Variable work hours are a necessity. Morning and afternoon shifts may switch as required," he read before adding, "No, thank you!" The other two nodded. "We already have a problem maintaining our sleep schedule as is," Al agreed, and his brother folded the newspaper in half to look at the bottom part.

"There is really nothing else we can even hope will accept us," he accepted and put the papers on the table. "So, do we try and ask at that Café Slavia," Noah inquired, and he looked at his watch. "It is just before noon, so they are definitely opened. Are you two in the mood for a little walk," Edward asked them as he pulled out Uher's map of Prague and started searching in the street list under the letter N. "Honestly, I have kind of hoped to see some of the locations that little guide book talked of," Alphonse informed him. "I agree, that some of them sound interesting," Noah added.

"At least it's close by," Ed realised as he traced the path to Café Slavia with his finger and found it was not even a kilometre north of them. "Do you think we should come as three different work seekers or as a group?" Al and Noah looked at him and then each other with some grimaces. "Would there really be that much of a difference," she questioned. "They could just tell us they only want some of us and ask us to rethink our choice, if they decide they don't want all of us," Alphonse agreed.

The trio left the dorms and walked along Dittrich Street, which changed its name from Dittrichova to Náplavní and then to Vojtěšská before they came across a Y shaped intersection. "I think the easiest way would be taking a left here," Ed quickly changed their path after consulting the plan. They emerged on Rieger's River Bank. "Oh, that is that 'Palace Sophia' I read about," Alphonse pointed to a neo-Renaissance construction that stood on an island within the Vltava river. "They call it an important centre of cultural and societal life."

"It certainly has a charm to it," Noah admitted as she looked on the yellow building with faux Greek column between the windows. "Well, looks like the city likes that type of architecture," Edward informed them and cocked his head towards the right. There was a building in a more orange colour with similar architectural elements, but unlike Žofín's low and narrow roof of oxidized copper, this one had a balcony and an elaborate oval roof atop it with windows that made it look like a face, which supported a smaller balcony seemingly made of gold.

"Oh, fancy," Noah cooed. "Huh, I didn't know their National Theatre was that close," Alphonse noted. "I thought it was a bit further out," he continued as they started walking along the riverside towards that building. "Well, according to the map, Café Slavia is literally opposite to it," his brother literally pointed out on the map he had folded out in front of him. "This place really likes to put its important building on display, doesn't it," Noah wagged her head in a diagonal direction over the river.

"It is important to set the scene, if one wants to be an important capital city," Ed snickered as he looked at the view of the Prague Castle they had seen the first day, when they searched for a dorm that would allow them in. "It still confuses me a bit, that it is that Cathedral poking out on the top. Normally I heard it is a castle that sits high atop a hill and the religious building are usually down in the valleys, unless they are really important," he thought out loud.

"It's because the Emperor Charles built it on an older base, but wanted it to be as big as the Notre Dame in Paris," Alphonse informed him. "Besides, as far as things go, that is a pretty important location. It has their national royal jewels hidden in there." "Hidden," Noah asked incredulously. "How is it hidden, if it is inside a large church, which is a tourist attraction?" "Because they keep it in a side tower behind a door with seven lock, whose seven keys are given to seven people."

"Ah yes, we must make it very symbolic," his brother mocked with a smile, and Al shrugged. "It does sound pretty impressive, but the jewels themselves are really shown to the public due to security concerns." Meanwhile, they finally reached the eastern side of the Bridge of the Legionnaires, where Národní Boulevard met the riverside, which changed its name from Rieger's to Masaryk's at this point. "That's where Café Slavia is," Ed pointed to a building that looked like it was brought over from Vienna.

The Lažany family of Bukové built another neo-Renaissance palace in Prague, and they went all out with tympanums above every window and in the corners between the wings they added black square frustums atop the roof with round windows looking out of them. Only the bottom floors seemed more normal and sane. The rectangular windows were so plain they seemed out of place with the higher floors. A sign proclaiming the place to be 'Kavárna Slavia' was placed on the wall facing the river, while a small clock to tell people the time hung near the corner on the wall facing the National Theatre across the street.

"That looks like an interesting place to work," Alphonse said after the trio spend a few moments gawking at the building. "Either of you want to wait, or should we head in and ask," his brother gave one last chance for them to back out, but they wagged their heads on him. "Nah, I'm okay," Noah said, and Al gave a nod in the direction of the entrance. "Let's go and get this over with. That way, we will have more time to be annoying tourist afterward." His brother laughed. "A fair point that I had not considered."


Harrer and Glauer were invited to meet with Czechoslovak Freemason contact in front of the Theatre of the Estates, which was within ten minutes walk from their hotel. As the duo approached along Rytířská Street, the adopted nobleman gestured towards the theatre. "Yet more proof that all of their so-called Slavic pride is just stolen Aryan glory. They made a national theatre from a building built by donations from Count von Nostitz – Rieneck, built by a man born in Upper Tyrol and where Mozart presented several of his operas."

Harre nodded more out of intimidation than agreement. As they got closer to the Classicist building with a front looking like a narrow Greek temple, the neighbouring building in Železná Street came into view. Glauer pointed at it with his walking came. "And that is also stolen from our kind. The Karolinum and their entire university were founded by a Holy Roman Emperor with an unfortunate fascination, but he was racially Aryan! The degenerate half-breeds even forced the university to surrender itself to the supremacy of the Slavs by giving up their insignia."

The man looked so furious, that in appeared like his monocle must be hurting him by preventing his facial muscles from properly moving. "Are you, Mr. Haji Veli," a voice called behind them with a slight accent. "I am," Glauer said with a suddenly much more neutral look. This contact took off his bowler head and gave him a slight bow. "Our boss sends his greetings to our fellow travellers. Welcome to Prague, dear brothers." Harrer failed to quite suppress his surprise at the plural.

"I am told you are seeking to travel east, and I have been asked to show you the possible ways for you to continue. If you would follow me, please," he extended his hand further along Železná Street, and they turned to follow for about two blocks until they emerged at the Old Town Square. Without stopping, the man led them across it to the other side and entered the wide Mikulášská Boulevard, which was built after a part of the Josefov Ghetto was demolished during clearances.

Eventually they arrived at a building unlike the other more modern constructions. The side facing the street was white plastered walls with a black brick roof atop. Stairs descending from street level on the left side allowed them to enter an old side street. A very low building with the same type of wall as the high synagogue wall at was build against. "This is the Altneu Synagogue you asked about. Unfortunately, it is not accessible today," their guide explained.

"Altneu as in both old and new," Harrer asked and Glauer rolled his eyes. "No, you twit. It is the 'on condition' synagogue. It derives from the Hebrew term 'al tnay'," he said aloud before turning to him with a grimaced of clenched teeth, "which you would know if you actually were a proper researcher," he told him with an exhausted tone. "This is the place, where the famous Maharal created the Golem, a man made from clay in a manner of Adam in Genesis, but lacking our frailty."

"Is there any information about if he managed that and if so how did he accomplish such a feat," Glauer asked much more calmly. "The claim is that he emulated the quickening of Adam with the breath of god by putting a piece of parchment in his mouth with the name of God. When he once forgot to take out this 'shem' on Friday evening it resulted in the Golem going insane on the Sabbath and when its creator corrected the issue he fell apart into dust. However, others claim it is stored in the synagogue's attic."

"And I assume that is not accessible to the people," Glauer inquired. "Correct. Four years ago, a Jewish writer named Egon Erwin Kisch tried to look around, but reportedly did not find anything even close to what the golem was supposed to look like." "Or so he says," Harrer loudly muttered, and their guide laughed. "Well, that is true of course. We need to rely on the word of others that they are not to keep a secret or have not since moved the golem somewhere else.

However, there is a question of how much use a Golem could have. Many stories insist that he was primarily made as a defender of the Jewish people here in Josefov from various attacks by Christians in the form of pogroms. Otherwise, most stories talk of him not as a powerful weapon, but a glorified machine, who took about hard labour necessary to maintain the ghetto in order." "Did Mr. Meyrink make up his version of the golem, then," Glauer asked.

"I can attest to every single story told about the golem," their guide warned with a raised index finger, "however I am very suspicious of the story that the Golem is a peculiar spirit that returns every thirty-three years. And not just because he is Roman Catholic and that just so happens to be the age that Christ was crucified at. The character of Athanasius Pernath was made up, as far as I know. Unfortunately, ever since his book was published, the stories have been continuously embellished to attract tourists."

"An unfortunate annoyance, but I believe with your help we might be able to find the truth," Glauer told him with a fake smile, and the man returned an authentic one. "If you wish, our Grand Master has offered to invite you to a meeting of our lodge at the end of this month." "Tell him, we will gladly accept. I always find it most enjoyable to meet my fellow travellers, so that we may share our acquired knowledge between ourselves."

"He will certainly agree. I will bring the invitation to you personal, when the time comes. Do you want me to take you back to the hotel?" "Not outright. I have heard something about a medieval astronomical clock in the city," Glauer indirectly asked. "Ah, you should have informed me earlier. We passed right by that little monument of genius. Come along, then. It is a wonderful thing to witness." He started walking back towards the stairs. "Are we going to do something else today," Harrer asked his benefactor. "We will see. I have several options," he was told with a grumpy tone that he was getting quickly tired of.


While the trio discussed the man's offer together, one of the waiters brought a coffee to Rudolf Mužík, the owner of Café Slavia. "Děkuji," he thanked him and turned back to them as he took a sip. "Are you sure, employing me, won't cause you any problems," Noah asked with a cautious tone. The man briefly blew a raspberry. "Miss Horvath, this café exists to serve a very specific clientele," he said and gestured outside towards the National Theatre. Despite talking about it, the trio still turned to look.

"We serve the artistic and intellectual strata. There are many frequent guests of ours, which can be described as Bohemian in both sense of that word," he added. "So, chances are the profits would actually increase," Edward smiled at Noah, and she gave him an uncertain frown. After Mužík took another sip, he continued. "Do you see those three men near talking reading papers they keep passing to each other," he asked and pointed into another part of the café. The brother looked and nodded.

"Not quite, since you are in the way," Noah said, and Mužík leaned to the side. "Yeah, now I can." "Those are members of Devětsil, an avant-garde left-wing group. From left to right you have Mr. Nezval, Mr. Teige and Mr. Seifert. That is not exactly a group I would worry about receiving unsympathetic looks from. If anything, Miss Horvath, they would probably ask you for an interview, so they could badmouth the 'capitalist order' about its mistreatment of your people," Mužík explained.

"Three tables behind you is a man with glasses, who keeps constantly sketching something on a piece of paper. That is Mr. Špála, an artist of expressionism, fauvism and recently cubism. Not exactly art styles one associates with the right wing and nationalist sectors of the population," he continued. "Somewhere around the corner I have seen the poet and libretto Jaroslav Kvapil talking with Josef Čapek, who, again, are not exactly people one would associate with anti-Gypsy opinions. I could go on, but I think you get the picture." They nodded and he took a third sip.

"If you want to, you can even start a week early. As long as you are good workers, I do not care what ethnic mix you are. In case you missed it, Czechoslovakia is not exactly ethnically homogenous. That is indeed one of the reason you will find very few nationalists, in the German sense, among the Czechs. It is unwise to stoke ethnic tensions, when counting Czechs and Slovaks together you just barely get a majority." "Very well, we accept, don't we," Alphonse said and got twin nods.

"Excellent, I will get the paperwork ready," Mužík said and left the table and his half-finished cup to fetch the documents. "This has been so much easier than I expected," Ed suddenly pointed out. "I know," Noah said. "I was expecting us to deal with problems, but if anything, the guy looks like he wants to get us working as soon as possible." "I guess a decade and a half in the business has also softened him up to people like us, if what he says about the people in this café is true," Al pointed out.

A balding man with a neat moustache and a bowler hat entered behind them, and a waiter quickly run up to him. "Dobré odpoledne, pane Hašlere. Dáte si vaši obvyklou kávu," he welcomed him. "Ano, ale přidejte do ní o trochu více mléka, než obvykle," he told the younger man, who bowed to him and left. He sat down at the table next to them and greeted Mužík as he came back into the café proper.

"Přišel jste opět složit nějakou nádhernou píseň v naší kavárničce, mistře?" "Uvidíme, pane Mužík. Moje múza je vybíravá, ale vaše káva ji občas přesvědčí ke zjevení se." Mužík sat down at their table and weakly indicated towards the man. "Mr. Karel Hašler, if you have the time, I suggest you visit some of his shows at Lucerna. It is an interesting experience and well worth the money." "Děláte mi reklamu zdarma," Hašler asked with a smile, while he started to read his newspaper.

"Zasloužíte si to," Mužík insisted, "Vaše kabaretní show jsou skvělé." "To možná jsou, ale ani jeden z nich nevypadá zrovna plnoletý. Už mně stačilo, že jsem byl vyhozen z Národního divadla pro nekázeň. Opravdu nepotřebuji, aby na mě poslali četníky, že kazím morálku mladistvých," Hašler answered and Mužík turned back. "He says I should not advertise his works, because you are too young for them. Anyway, here are the employment agreements. They are all in German, so you can be sure I am not hiding anything from you."

They quickly read through their documents, which were only one page long. It all seemed like a standard affair. "So, what do we have to write in," Edward asked and Mužík pointed out everything in order. "And finally, I need your signatures at the bottom." Fortunately for all three of them, according to Czechoslovak law anyone over the age of fifteen could enter into a work contract without a parent's or guardian's signature, which was a relief for Alphonse especially. "There we are. You can start as early as the 20 January. I look forward to it," the man said and offered them all handshakes.

"That's all," Al asked as he returned it. "Indeed. If you wish to have something, feel free to order from your future co-workers, or you can go and enjoy the rest of your day. Technically, you can stay inside for a while without ordering, but please do not do that. We already have enough people coming to drink or eat our products, so we really don't anyone just sitting around and taking up space." All three stood up. "We do have plans to look around the city, so we will take our leave," Edward explained.

"Do not let me keep you back, then. Goodbye and see you next week," Mužík said and walked towards the cash registers and around them to enter into the café backrooms with their signed agreements. Edward, Alphonse and Noah left via the large doors that led onto Národní Street. "So, where did you want to go," Noah asked. "The booklet suggested visiting a place called the Charles Bridge, which is further north along the river," Alphonse replied, and started walking right towards the Vltava again.

"You can kind of see it from here," he added as he reached the corner and pointed roughly in a diagonal direction between straight ahead and to the right. In a gap between some of the trees on the riverbank you could see a more medieval style of bridge compared to the Bridge of the Legionnaires ahead of them. This older construction had thicker pillars and paired statues along it. Indeed, the pillars almost looked like some pilfered them from the support system of a gothic cathedral.

They crossed the road and started walking in its general direction. "That is certainly an intriguing structure, but I think it is loved more for the view from it, than of it," Ed commented as they got closer. "That clock tower up ahead seems more designed to catch the eye," Noah agreed and pointed to the yellow tower with a spiked roof of oxidized copper. "That's an old water tower for the Old Town of Prague, but it is currently closed," Al informed. "However, that blackish bit poking out of the side is actually behind it, and it is a gate tower at the end of the bridge.

You can even look around from a balcony on top of it." "Oh, fancy," his brother cooed with a slightly mocking undertone. "I know history bores you, but you can enjoy this more," Alphonse complained and lightly slapped his back. "This city is nicknamed Prague of a Hundred Spires for a reason." "Given I can see a cupola of what is probably another church and a cursory look across the river shows me," Ed stopped for a moment and quickly counted, "ten other spires, I think I can take a guess."