Cold Wavelengths Crossed
On another day, one that came after the one you've just been told about in the so-called linear progression of time, Sage Seer was walking to her favorite shop. She passed the old abandoned Slimeade factory with the tagged up wall. A long stretch of brown brick, three stories high, this was her favorite sight in downtown Persephone. Among the most puzzling tags sprayed on to this wall consisted of the words "Silver Angels" spelled out in the red and white stripped style of a candy cane over a large black capital letter "C." Something about it always fascinated her. Near to that was a simple sentence in red that had faded away over time. It read, "The passphrase is: The lo" and nothing else was readable. Near the corner was a crude stenciled representation of what she now knew to be the Jackal of H(e)arts under which were the words "The Knights Watch."
She walked in her black Lux Vomica t-shirt, plaid skirt, and chunky boots, headphones on and blasting chaospel temple. It was breezy that day and she felt the special feeling of all breezy days. In this infusion of bittersweet euphoria, she felt completely unencumbered. All the weight of her Red Liquid adventure sloughed off of her in the autumn air. She was traveling in the weather she most liked to do the thing that was just hers, after all.
She stood presently at the door of Crossmaker Crossing, a little shop whose namesake was the small side street on which it lay. She smiled at the giant, faded standee of Zam'ah'yl in the window, a giant eyeball with six tentacles whose word bubble said "SUBMIT!" in dripping font. She vividly remembered coming here for the first time as a small child and how Zam'ah'yl had frightened her, had haunted her for weeks after. She smiled now not only because she had come to relish all the things that had scared her so as a child, but also at the renaissance the character was having in her current favorite comic, "the O.D.D." The mysterious writer/artist known only as The Shepherdess was really outdoing herself in this new work, both a love letter to all of Sage's favorite classic comic characters, and a new story of great depth and complexity. Sage slid off her headphones and entered.
Coincidentally, as Sage entered the establishment, the speakers were just starting to play the next song that she had queued up to play through her own smaller ones, chaospel temple's "bloodstone twilight." Cold wavelengths crossed sang vocalist Jazz Publique over Thexis Ravenwood's thick, groovy bassline. It was honestly one of her favorite chaospel temple songs, and this coincidence did even more to bolster her already positive mood.
"Blessing to all the Psychic Cartoons!" called the familiar voice of Fandem Pura'ama, the proprietor of this, Sage's favorite little shop.
"Blessed be!" Sage replied.
Fandem played air bass, "Gaud, I love this bassline."
Sage played air bass along with him for a moment.
"Okie and a doki doki, how can I help you today?" Fandem asked after the invisible jam session had subsided.
"Let's start with a Halfling," Sage said.
Fandem immediately began mixing the drink, a half and half mixture of the two most popular tisanes on the menu: adamantine root and hushling vine. When mixed, the light golden and deep purple tisanes (respectively) turned bright pink and reacted to make a thick, frothy head. When he placed it in front of her she enacted the ritual of all Halfling drinkers that was licking the bits of froth that threatened to dribble over the sides of the glass. Next she took a large drag from the contents and licked off the froth-stache that had lingered on her upper lip.
"So lemme guess," said Fandem, "you are mainly here to pick up the new issue of the O.D.D. that just came out and you wanna browse the new book and music arrivals."
"Right as always," Sage replied.
Fandem pulled a polybagged issue from his stash behind the counter. "I knew you'd be here for this," he said warmly.
Sage paid the man for her comic and tisane, explaining that she didn't have a lot of extra currency and would most likely just be browsing the rest.
"Well, if anything catches your eye, lemme know and I'll make you a deal."
She nodded and began her browsing adventure.
The New Arrival
Sage flipped through the new arrivals in music as she sipped the Halfling. The energizing euphoria of adamantine root and the relaxing analgesia of hushling vine intertwined in her mind and body as she browsed. There were lots of great sound plates on offer, but nothing she didn't already own. She saw Hypnogogic Ritual's Threadbare Vestments and Hadeharia, Luna De Sol's Happy Acolytes, The Hopscotchers' New Blues for Old Souls, JR "808" Dubs's Time Signature Control, Mx Miracle & Big Bardo's Fourth World Problems, Lazarus Mann's I Ain't Been to Sleep, The Well of Lonely Orchids' controversial first album Alzabo Ambulance, and Looted Museum's Provenance.
She moved to the new arrivals book shelf.
The shelf was mostly filled with innocuous old bestsellers that didn't particularly interest her. She remembered the buzz that The Da Urbino Cipher and The Gaud Solution had generated but her contrarianism had exceeded her curiosity on these. A thin black volume then caught her eye. She pulled it from the shelf. For such a small book it had a definite weight to it. It was as if it generated its own special gravity. When she turned it to view the front, the gold lettering seemed to throb. She tried to read the title and failed. She felt herself almost drowning. The world seemed to drop away more with every letter, and with it every ability she had learned in her life, including the visual recognition of words. She almost forgot how to look away.
When she finally emerged back into Crossmaker Crossing, the book fell from her hands with a heavy thud. Fandem, nearby stepped over to pick up the book for her.
As he moved to place it back on the self, she asked, "How much for that one?"
Fandem looked it over and frowned. After a beat he said, "I don't think you are ready for this one yet."
She contorted her face and body toward protest, but the he said to her, with such great sincerity that it gave her pause, "Have I ever steered you wrong?"
This was somehow enough to relax her back into the Halfling glow.
"I'll tell you what," said Fandem pulling the book to his chest, "I will hold this for you. The moment you know you are ready, really ready for all this entails, it's yours, free of charge."
Sage nodded. Something mysterious in her was grateful.
It was at this moment that the door chime sounded as a new customer walked in. Tall and lanky, soft-featured, the young man approached the counter. He wore and old Grey War bomber jacket that was clearly second hand. He stood tentatively by the counter as Fandem greeted him.
"New customers get their first drink on the house," Fandem explained.
Sage watched the young man.
"I'm not sure what's good here," he said, "I only just heard about this place."
Fandem looked to Sage who found herself a little embarrassed. Nevertheless, she walked over to the counter beside the young man and said, "You have to try the Halfling."
"As often as I possibly can. This is kind of my favorite place."
Julian turned to Fandem, "One," turning to Sage, "what did you call it?"
"One Halfling," said Sage.
Julian watched in awe as Fandem mixed his Halfling. The foam began to slide down the sides of the glass.
"Whoa," said Julian, taking the glass quickly and swallowing a large gulp. His fingers were coated in foam which he sucked off of them.
Sage laughed, "I'm sorry, we should have warned you that you have to lick that foam off the sides first."
Julian smiled, "Admit it, you wanted to see me fail."
"A little bit," she said.
Julian snapped his fingers. "Oh hey, I meant to compliment your shirt. Love Lux Vomica."
"The best cybernetic metal band out there if you ask me."
"Bride of Sisyphus is one of my all time favorite plates."
"It's so good, oh gaud. 'Infernal Equinox!'"
"Such a great track!"
They talked like this for an hour or more as the sun slid down the sky outside like a fried egg hurled against the wall and the golden hour shown through the storefront. Noticing the fading light, Sage got up to depart.
"Can I walk you?" asked Julian, "Until we have to split off at least."
This Is Where I Leave You
The two of them walked in conversation about their lives. Julian's bomber jacket had belonged to his grandfather who actually fought in the Grey War. While Julian was not a big fan of war, he reckoned that the Grey War had been the most justifiable one he could think of. To wrench humanity from the tyranny of the Grey Faction was a reason to fight. And after all, the world had come together in peace afterward. But he did wonder if humanity had become complacent. Sage did not tell Julian that her father was an inquisitor. She hated this fact, was ashamed of it. She felt this both because she actually disagreed with what he father did, and because it embarrassed her in front of cool people. And because she didn't hate her father, even if she disagreed with him, she was afraid to tell most people when she met them.
They stopped at the tagged up wall of the old Slimeade factory.
"This is where I leave you," said Julian.
"Do you want to maybe h-," Sage's question was cut off by a glimmer coming from the wall beside them. She turned her head, "What the…?"
The little Knight's Watch tag glowed as the last rays of the setting sun hit it.
"I'll tell you what," said Julian, in answer to the question Sage had not quite asked him, "in three days, meet me here at sunset."
"Sounds good," said Sage vaguely, still staring at the glow from the tag.
When she looked up, Julian was not there anymore.