Whisperwind Combs

[JFought]

The Witch's smile faded somewhat, almost performatively so. "Hmm. Laura, you said." She tilted her head. "Truthfully, I find it concerning that your friend would speak of this place and make no mention of its nature. I hear that, and think that perhaps you've been lied to somehow. And so allow me to preempt that question."

She dipped her head in a second introduction. "This is one of the Rose Clubs of the Guild of the Red Claw. We are an organization of wanderers and mercenaries, who contract our services to any with the coin sufficient to negotiate one." She lifted her head back up, eyes resting on the book for just a moment. "I would mention there is plenty of room outside of mercenary work, but first, I would like to ask more about this friend of yours. Who is she to you? I am genuinely curious."

Her tone of voice was cordial and sincere all throughout. Not once did her mask slip, nor was there any indication of a mask at all. But looking into the Mismagius' eyes, it felt as if Laura were being seen straight through.

"If it's something personal, then worry not about twitching ears. No one can hear us down here."

...Was that supposed to be reassuring?

 

[Jackie Cat]

Laura couldn't avoid a tiny smirk of satisfaction. She'd been right, she fucking knew it. Weavile was maintaining cover, or something, and she'd been right to keep conspicuously not specifying what type of work she was looking for.

"Someone I've worked with before," she replied, her tone making it clear that by work she meant violence, of a nonspecific kind. True again. "We aren't close. To be honest with you, ma'am Witch... I believe she may not have wanted me to know certain details of her previous employment."

Laura glanced at the bar.

"Your fellow at the bar thought I was here to serve drinks," she said, allowing herself an offended tone – its sincerity tasted like wine in her mouth. Bitter, and intoxicating. Suddenly the meek version of herself that cared so much about being inoffensive seemed somehow... pathetic.

"I usually... retrieve information," she continued, meaning, I am a spy. That part was true, too, from a certain perspective. Corporate espionage had to count, right? She was a spy right now, even... "Sometimes force is involved."

Don't talk too much, she told herself. The persona she was playing wouldn't babble.

 

[JFought]

"Espionage, hm?"

The Witch tilted her head again, seemingly confused. "Well. Forgive the bartender, he's overly cautious. It's not as if Red Claw work is entirely shameful, if that was the impression you believed."

She blinked slowly. "Which I must believe was your impression, otherwise you would have asked Mr. Barkeep about us directly, instead of feeling the need to be so deceitful with him. And I also hardly believe this friend would feel the same as you do, unless she had an underlying reason to."

Then she tilted her head the other way, appearing less amused. "And if you aren't close, then you wouldn't trust her word on this place, presuming you had ever known of here to begin with. Nor would you feel the need to mention her to either of us. That is, assuming she exists. Which I do assume, as she has a gender, and your eyes are honest only upon her mention."

Looking back in hindsight, if this was a dungeon simulation of a supposedly perceptive person, and the dungeon had already seen into Laura's head once before, then...

The Witch sighed in (mock?) exasperation. "Perhaps we are not conversing on the same page. You came in here searching for something, did you not? I assume you didn't find it in that book."

 

[Jackie Cat]

Resentment burned in Laura's gut. So much for her clever framing.

Someone can be trustworthy without being 'close', she thought to say, to argue back that her relationship with her 'friend' was a professional one. That was what she'd been implying, after all.

But it wasn't true... Their relationship wasn't strictly business. If it was, would the Comb have even paired them together like this?

No, playing it safe and plausible wasn't going to work. Because this wasn't literal – the Rose Club was a dream, with a specific purpose, just as whatever Isidora had experienced in her head had been. The point wasn't to scope out this Guild, the point was to learn about Isidora. And the test wasn't to trick the Witch...

You aren't real, she thought to herself, then discarded it.

"Close enough," she said at last, straightening her back. "I'm here because I need to know the truth about my friend. I'm not being paid to look into your business; this is a personal matter. What I said before was accurate... I do trust her, even though we aren't close."

How can that make sense? When you're here? Looking for her dark secrets?

"She's trapped somewhere, alone, and I can't get to her until I learn her past. I need to understand her," said Laura, a shiver down her neck standing her fur on end. "I can only do that by figuring out what happened to her here, in this place, with you. I'll do whatever it takes to find that truth, and I doubt I will ever return once I do."

She swallowed, and met the apparition's hollow eyes.

"Her name is Isidora, and I will find my way to her."

 

[JFought]

The Mismagius nodded, seeming approving. "So it is the truth you seek. Then you have indeed come to the right place. Helping others is our duty after all, and seeking the truth, one of our principles." She shook her head slowly so that her necklaces swayed. "Imagine, had you led with that, it would have saved you unnecessary grief."

Was the dungeon trying to make some roundabout point? Or was it just in ma'am Witch's character to enjoy twisting the knife?

"I will say that I do not know anyone by the name 'Isidora.' It is not implausible she may have worked as one of us, however." Her gaze fell to the table, somewhat solemnly. "Working for the Red Claw is not a necessarily shameful or horrid thing, or at least, I don't believe it is. But as I stated, it's possible she sees a specific reason to feel this way, and that would be why she hides this from you."

Her gaze met Laura's again, just as cordial as before. "If you have reason to believe we are connected, then I will add that I am no mere recruiter, though the rest I leave as an exercise." She held one of her tassels to her mouth and winked. "It wouldn't be any fun if I just told you. And wouldn't you rather hear it from her, in dramatic confrontation?"

"And as for the matter of finding her... I believe I might have an idea." The Witch tilted her head so that only one eye was visible under the brim of her hat. "Merely say the word, and I shall lead you directly there. No pain or additional effort required at all on your part. I'll even do it for free."

 

[Jackie Cat]

Sure, bit a sardonic facet of her mind, just open with that shit I just said – why not?

Whatever. She needed to make progress, and this was her only lead. How would accepting the Witch's offer play out? Laura tilted her head, calculating gut feeling against necessity.

"Assuming you really can," she said, cooly, "I don't believe that you would do that if you had nothing to gain by it."

Even as she said that, though...

I'll do whatever it takes.

She already knew that she'd agree, sooner or later. She didn't have any howling leverage to get another word out of the Mismagius. Laura's cheek twitched, part of her hating her lack of options, her lack of knowledge, her lack of resources...

Just like being back home, really.

"I accept your offer nonetheless, ma'am Witch."

 

[JFought]

At Laura's answer, The Witch casually rose up off her seat, seemingly unbothered by the icy tone. "Of course you accept. The answer was always going to be yes, wasn't it?"

She then drifted suddenly out of the booth as if blown by a light gust of wind, dress fluttering after her in a sort of flourish. "And I do believe I can, though it will be a long walk," she answered as she came to a stop. "And don't worry yourself too hard over what I have to gain from this, either. Truthfully, I'm just as invested as you are. I'd like to further understand this 'Isidora,' too."

She began drifting ethereally towards the front entrance. "If you would follow me~"

And so Laura was led outside, away from the concreteness of the Rose Club and back into the silent world of metaphor. Out the tunnel, through the alley, and up the stairs.

......

Once at the junction, The Witch turned left. She approached the barrier fence blocking the way forward without a care, muttering something to herself as her head nodded rhythmically slow. And as if in response, the fence opened outwards on invisible hinges, wood scraping along cobble as it went.

That hadn't always been a gate, had it?

The Witch turned to face Laura with a mischievous smile. "Talk about opening doors. That, too, is one of the Red Claw's specialties." Then turned back to face onward. "This should be the shortest path forward. Let us continue."

Travelling down the street past the gate, Laura would immediately notice the sharp turn coming just up ahead. It looked like this really was going somewhere...

......

...Shit...​

Wait, was that Isidora?

 

[Jackie Cat]

"The answer was always going to be yes, wasn't it?"

Normally Laura had the luxury of knowing her Dark-type aura meant her mind couldn't be read – at least without considerable effort from a proficient Psychic, let alone a mismagius. The Witch was merely exceptionally astute, of course. But in this mind-dungeon, that wasn't necessarily true any more, was it?

She blocked out the thought, shaking her head clear.

"I'm just as invested as you are."

"I'm sure," replied Laura, dully. She was already bracing herself for Isidora to be panicked and furious, for a fake Isidora borne of her own memories, for 'Isidora' to be a chosen name adopted for a change of identity...

She watched impassively as the Witch turned the pallisade into an open street. Videogame cutscene, said something in her head, and her mouth curved into a slight smile. If she'd tried to make it past the barrier before, would that have been vindicating, or humiliating?

...shit...

Laura's ears pricked up for a fractional second. She no longer believed she could dissemble around the Witch, but her instincts still pressed her to try, to think fast, to plan contingencies.

"...If you've lied to me, then you're skillful enough that I can't tell," Laura said, almost casually. "So tell me something else – since I don't want to do wrong by my friend – am I going to regret this?"

If she was being manipulated, if this was a mistake, she didn't see a way out of it. Ma'am Witch, fae-like as she was, held all the cards here.

Laura imagined Isidora – proud, flustered, independent – in a room with the Witch.

What happened to you? Is it happening to me?

 

[JFought]

...Wait... Laura?!

What... back...! ...looking...! You... talking... wouldn't...! ...okay?! ...happening?!

Isidora seemed perhaps a little too excited...

"So tell me something else – since I don't want to do wrong by my friend – am I going to regret this?"

"Potentially." The Witch threw back half a glance. "It depends on the nature of this truth, and whether you wish you would have witnessed it. I would not decide that for you, of course."

It really was difficult to tell. It was sort of a candid response. Her intentions were still vague, but did she somehow already know what they were going to see?

Turning the corner took them onto an even narrower street, the buildings closing in on available space. The way forward stretched not endlessly, but it looked to be a solid minute of walking before the next turn. As they continued, Laura would notice a white shape just ahead. It lay slumped against the right wall-

It was a corpse. Belonging to an ice Vulpix, a trail of dried blood leading down its neck from the pinpoint hole pierced in its throat.

The Witch just floated past. "Ignore them. There's nothing to be done for them now." Her voice sounded far more grave than before.

Looking ahead, there seemed to be more of them.

 

[Jackie Cat]

The whispers were so much radio static – panicked and indecipherable. What would happen if Laura said 'no, wait, I'm not gonna take another step' and shut her eyes? How long until the dungeon spat them both out? Would it even let them out?

The white shape registered as corpse almost too quick for comfort. Laura steeled herself against a lurch in her stomach. How else was she supposed to parse it – roadkill? A fur coat?

She kept walking, and only turned her head long enough to register the cause of death as deliberate, professional. Assassination, said something in her head.

"Looks like a clean kill," she said, her voice subdued. Then, "Why was this done?"

She kept pace, pricking her carpal pads to ground herself.

 

[JFought]

Kill?! What's happening?!

They continued to pass bodies. Glaceon, Snorunt, Swinub... The Witch remained impassive as she answered Laura's question. "Who knows. Perhaps they are like us, and were simply looking for a way forward."

Past the next corner, bodies continued to mount. Deerling, Electrike, Mightyena... The nature of their wounds had changed, becoming messier, bloodied claw marks raked down their sides. "No one wants to be down here, as you can imagine. But as unfortunate as it is, their circumstances are outside of their control. Only the sufficiently abled could ever hope to make it out, and for some, this is as far as they could ever hope to reach."

"I have Giratina's luck..."

They passed by the small body of a purple nidoran, the killing blow being the same pinpoint strike to the chest. "Make no mistake though: they were murdered. I assure you, you will not end up like them."

The next turn saw them at a massive gate of pure steel, dominating the thin alley and stretching as high as the surrounding buildings, and then even higher. It looked thick, and completely impenetrable. It would be impossible to open it from this side without the mechanism to do so. At its base was the body of a Luxray: a bundle of greyed fur resting peacefully with its back to the gate. It wasn't wounded. Instead, it looked almost as if it had died of old age...

 

[Jackie Cat]

"No one wants to be down here, as you can imagine. But as unfortunate as it is, their circumstances are outside of their control. Only the sufficiently abled could ever hope to make it out, and for some, this is as far as they could ever hope to reach."

Laura's lip curled. What happened in Isidora's city...? The 'sufficiently abled'—? It brought to mind some kind of fucking class purge. No bodybags, no coroners... The questions she wanted to ask died in her mouth.

"Make no mistake though: they were murdered. I assure you, you will not end up like them."

She shot a dubious look at the Mismagius. Was that a statement of intent, or an echo from the past? Reality was permeable down here... She couldn't rely on anything but her gut.

"Who killed them?" she asked, her voice tight. "And why?"

She kept walking, looking more closely at the Luxray for a cause of death... Some clean, some brutal, and now this—

Real, metaphor, or just a dream?

 

[JFought]

Why? I don't know, what're you...?

The Mismagius' head tilted slightly, though she didn't turn around. "Hm. Well, perhaps not literally murdered, but figuratively? There is certainly an intention behind it. They would say it could not be helped, but personally I would argue otherwise."

She looked down forlornly at the Luxray, with a look that seemed almost familiar. "And as for who, there is no satisfying answer. 'Civilization,' you could say. I hope that doesn't sound too dire. Perhaps everyone is right, and it is what it is."

She was just speaking in riddles now. Looking over the Luxray, it had no visible cause of death, aside from an old scar over the right eye. It looked like it was sleeping...

The Witch approached the gate, placed a tassel on it, and abruptly it swung outward, the thick metal plates practically slamming into the brick walls and shaking the entire dream with the sound of the crash.

She turned nonchalantly back to Laura. "Well that was easy! And to think you didn't trust me. I believe we're almost there."

Past the gate, the street finally opened up into overcast sunlight. If Laura continued past this point, she would find herself entering into the frozen front plaza of a wide and imposing building, making an attempt at the ornate with its portico entrance and the bell tower built on top. It might have brought to mind the image of a courthouse, or possibly more relevant, a campus building.

There was a yell and a shriek. Something was happening in the plaza...

 

[Jackie Cat]

Howlers' shit, what was going on? Some kind of fucked-up representation of 'mon killed by circumstances, rendered as murder victims...? That didn't feel right – nothing did. Laura frowned, at the bodies, at the lack of living inhabitants, at the surreality of it all. At the bizarre, nebulous answers... Then the metal gate swung open by the will of the Witch, like no real gate ought to.

Real, metaphor, or just a dream?

She glanced back, behind her, at the dead bodies. The distinctly brutalised ones – Deerling, Electrike, Mightyena.

"Not literally murdered, but figuratively. There is certainly an intention behind it. They would say it could not be helped."

Andre, Koa, Dave. That couldn't be a coincidence, right? What did that mean, that they were dead to her—?

Where's your corpse?

She swallowed, her paws stilled by hesitation. No, there was something about being 'down here', something about being 'sufficiently abled'. She wracked her head for commonalities. Quadrupedal, they were all four-legged – save the Snorunt, but still, Liber could be a culture that demanded a certain body plan... Then there was another oddity – four Ice-types in a row, plus Isidora was one, that couldn't be random—

Her eyes widened and her ears pricked at the yell and shriek. Urgency kicked her feet into motion, the urge to help greater than the fear...

 

[JFought]

At the courtyard was a small crowd of onlookers. A Magby, Elekid, Panpour, and Mime Jr., four in all, and all children. They seemed to be cheering for something, and as Laura approached to join them, she'd see just what made that noise.

In the middle of the plaza was a confident Meditite, brandishing a small, wooden rapier, the tip sharpened to a point. And his opponent: a small, skinny looking Sneasel with unkempt fur, nearly hunched over and panting heavily, her claws bared and uncertain.

“You cannot take much more, sneasel," he taunted. "Forfeit now, and I’ll spare you the humiliation.”

“I don’t belong here.”

If Laura tried to move past the onlookers, she’d find there was force repelling her back, keeping her rooted to the edge and helpless to watch as the memory played out.

The Sneasel gave her answer by lunging at her opponent with a furious yowl. But he was agile where she was clumsy. He gracefully stepped away from her attempt at a claw swipe, and retaliated by jabbing his weapon hard into her side. She yelped and backpedalled in pain as she clutched the spot, when one of her legs finally gave to exhaustion and forced her to a knee.

She looked nearly defeated, but the Meditite did not stand down. The children cheered.

"It didn't matter where I went, it always felt that way. Others would let me know, and when they didn't, I'd feel it in the their conversations and their struggles, disconnected from mine in every way. Always lesser or greater, never equal. I'd have to prove myself, over and over again."

The Sneasel’s growl deepened. Her right claw gravitated to her left shoulder, and she drew it down her arm, as if pulling at something. Meanwhile her opponent smirked and waited, completely unconcerned. He was going to drag this out.

"I knew what I wanted to do, but I could never achieve it on my own. In the end, I just happened to know the right ‘mon, and even there, I was lucky. I only knew them because of what I could do. Of who I became.”

Her claw finished its journey and was bared at her side. And in an instant faster than Laura could blink, than she could process it, the Sneasel had dashed through the Meditite and appeared behind him

His face changed, drained of all confidence. The attack hit him like a light breeze, but the damage was scored across his side as two bloody gashes. He dropped his rapier, unable to speak, looking back to see his blood on her claws.

The Sneasel let out a guttural cough, a small trail of blood trickling from her lips. She was shivering, yet brought herself to stand tall. The tables had turned in an instant.

The Meditite was gasping with fear and disbelief. “You…”

One of the children screamed. The Meditite clutched his wound, and together they all ran for the building.

“I don't want to be like this. But what else am I supposed to do with myself? I thought I found the answer, but all it's done is fill me with dread.”

"And there she is. The young Swift Claw herself,” spoke The Witch as she approached behind Laura. “Unrefined now, yes, but look at her eyes. The desperateness to which she clings to dignity. And the way she would seek to fight: raw ferocity, demonstrated in form and intent."

Laura would feel a piece of cloth touch the top of her head. "She has potential, wouldn't you agree?"

The sensation disappeared, and so did The Witch. Laura was free to move now, alone with the injured Isidora as she licked her claws clean.

 

[Jackie Cat]

Laura watched transfixed, helpless, aching to intervene, aching to say let me help, to give Isidora power, to step in front of her and grab that fucking stick and snap it—

She's too proud to want that from you.

She didn't give a fuck. It was wrong.

Then the Witch broke her spell and Laura stumbled forward, gasping. What was that she'd said— Something about... Scoping out Isidora as a child? Seeing vicious potential in her. Letting her strive and struggle, so she could be an asset later on...

Laura felt sick.

She stepped forward anyway.

"Isidora?" she asked, her own voice thin and broken to her ears. "Do you recognise me...?"

Copper-penny scent, red and cloying in her nose. Laura could almost taste the blood.

She'll hurt you.

She kept going anyway.