It's First Ones' Day, and there are few places on the surface of Sinai (or above it) that compare to Caroban in its ability to find bizarre ways to celebrate a holiday, and each of the various Schools seems to have a need to compete with each other for new and interesting ways of making such a holiday memorable. In particular, the School of Shadow is sponsoring an event for its apprentices, the Great Shadow Races, as a pleasant diversion before nightfall, when the real crowd-pleasing activities will be getting underway.

A cobblestone street of purplish tiles engraved with various runes winds its way through the grounds of the School of Shadow, meandering in an irregular loop around a central park with a jumble of statues and trees and fountains, the central feature being an exceptionally large sundial that has remarkable accuracy in telling the time of day – or night, as beacons from the neighboring rooftops illuminate it after sundown, and enchantments of Shadow ensure that the shadow cast by the dial will manage to tell the correct time.

The Shadow Walk is rarely busy except for the brief interludes between classes for apprentices and mage hopefuls, but now off to one side there are a score of apprentices sitting or standing amidst chalked-off magic circles, some chanting to sustain spells, some hopping up and down, shouting and cheering and making a general ruckus, others far more sedate and quiet in their enthusiasm, as they and several spectators watch little flitting shadows race across the cobbles around the irregular track formed by the cobblestone path.

A white-and-gold figure stands in the crowd, having found a good spot to watch the track from. She quietly licks a frozen treat on a stick (courtesy of an entrepreneurial Water Mage) and listens to some of the Mages crowding around her debate the results of last year's race, and whether the new "jockeys" this year will be as good.

"Go, Midnight-Stalker, go!" one of the apprentices calls out, as a black-lined cartoony rendition of a fierce and many-toothed monster (with googly eyes and spindly, spaded tail) with a big numeral "3" on its back slides and scampers across the cobbles, followed by a fluttering butterfly that looks remarkably like the silhouettes of a pair of hands joined at the wrists, "flapping" as it goes, with a numeral "9" hovering next to it. A black and white kitten – by far the youngest of all the contestants – quietly waves a little flag with a matching numeral nine on it, cupping a hand to her muzzle and whispering, "Go, Flutterby, go!"

"Oswald's vanderat set a record last year," a Khatta wearing apprentice robes for the sphere of Life says to a young Jupani Fire Mage behind Envoy. "But he isn't in this year's competition, or I'd lay a wager on him." The Aeolun watches the first shadow-critters start, and wonders how the apprentices come up with the forms for their sprites.

A little Creen flutters desperately along, with a numeral "4" flapping from a pennant clasped in its shadow-mouth, looking only slightly more realistic than "Midnight-Stalker" in its representation. Close on its heels is a snapping maw of … well … it just looks like a snapping maw, with no other noteworthy features save for a numeral "11" that has been cleverly used for a pair of eyes.

Over amongst the apprentices, a little black and white unicorn in similarly colored robes hops up and down, waving a little pennant with the number "4" on it, and a smiley-faced Creen rendered on it. It may be a trick of the light (that happens a lot around here), but his shadow, cast on a hedge behind him, seems to be even more animated than he is, not acting entirely in sync with his own gestures.

Envoy looks ahead of the runners, trying to feel out the obstacles supposedly placed along the track, but can't sense anything above the local background enchantment. But then, she wouldn't expect Shadow obstacles to be easy to detect anyway. Spotting the unicorn, she smiles and cheers, "Go number 4!"

The shadow-creen disappears around a bend, and there's some sort of shimmering on the cobbles … waashu shapes? … as tendrils of shadow flail blindly at the passing runners, one of them momentarily snagging the "Flutterby", much to the little kitten's distress, as she claps her hands to her mouth and mews in dismay. However, the tendrils are not so terribly strong, as the Flutterby manages to tear itself free (and slaps the tendrils defiantly on its way out), and resumes the race with the others, even as a new wave of shadows rounds the bend – a running stick figure labeled "2", an elaborate shadow-dragon labeled "1", a rolling clock-face labeled "12", and a happy fuff'nar labeled "7".

An elder Naga mage in purple robes and scales of black and white (probably an enamel job) idly makes notes on a tablet with his finger, leaving traces of perfectly formed black lettering the wake of his "writing". He occasionally glances up at the sundial in the center of the park, then back to the cobbles again. "Mmm-hmm," he says, in a way neutral in whether it might indicate amusement or disdain.

As the Flutterby escapes the first trap, a gray-furred Lapi Chaos Mage's ears droop. "I had that one at 5-to-1," she whimpers, and checks a notebook. Apparently she moonlights as a bookie.

Black letters in fancy script appear on the cobbles in front of the main grouping of contestants, reading, "Final Lap". The happy fuff'nar gallops right through the lettering, knocking all the letters out of place in its frantic dash through, on the heels (figuratively speaking, in most cases) of the other racers.

Waving her popsicle, the Aeolun cheers, "Go number 4! You're one mean lean Creen!"

The fuff'nar seems to be even more energetic after bursting through the letters, and it soon becomes evident to Envoy by the cheers all around her that though it seemed to be coming after the Creen and the Flutterby, it was actually in the lead. The pack of shadow racers rounds the bend, with a few stragglers catching up behind, and the Creen makes another round, prompting even more enthusiastic encouragement from Rory (and his shadow). However, it's soon evident that the race is coming to a conclusion, as a pack of scampering shadows comes around toward the finish line (as indicated by a stream of shadow-pennants waving on the cobbles, across the path). The stick-figure man and the fuff'nar are neck-in-neck, with the bulk of the pack right behind them!

"C'mon number 4, you can still make it!" Envoy cheers, while the Lapi bookmaker chews on one of her ears nervously and the others in the crowd start cheering loudly for the front-runners. "Stick it to them number 2!" "Raise an alarm, number 12!"

And then … just as it seems the fuff'nar ("Fluffy") is about to make it by a nose, the stick figure somersaults over the shadow-creature's back, and crosses the finish line, a snapping fuff'nar hot on its stick-figure heels! Just behind them, a rolling clock face crosses the line, then the rest of the pack.

The little unicorn mage looks around for his Creen, Number 4. A little while afterward, the Creen appears, zigzagging wildly, chasing and happily snapping after Number 10 – which happens to be shaped like a little shadow bug that weaves back and forth even more wildly. The little unicorn lets out a wail of dismay, while the crowd lets up a cheer as the victorious stick-figure man stops and strikes a pose, oblivious to the shadow-fuff'nar nipping at his heels.

"I can cover it, yes!" the Lapi cheers, pumping her arm in the air, while everyone else cheers on the winners! Envoy begins to make her way through the crowd towards the starting line, wondering if the little Aeonian will even remember her.

For a moment, the unicorn's own shadow seems to be consoling him, as he retrieves his little shadow Creen. He stoops down and whispers an incantation, causing a number of little shadow-bugs and seedling pods to spread onto the cobbles, whereupon the Creen eagerly gobbles them up, then waves "good-bye" with its wings, and flies off the edge of the cobbles, disappearing into the shadows of the grass.

The unicorn then proceeds to start picking up his candles. He looks over to a kitten nearby, and tells her, "Congratulations on fourth place!" and then notices the winged Aeolun. "Oh! Hello there!" He waves vigorously with a sleeve that's not quite as floppy as it used to be.

"That was a very realistic Creen," Envoy says to the unicorn as she approaches, "especially the way it chased after that beetle. I don't suppose you remember me? We last met eight years ago. Your name is Rorschach, isn't it?"

The unicorn nods several times. He doesn't look eight years older than when Envoy last saw him. But then, someone might make a similar observation of Envoy. "Rorschach Stormshadow, apprentice to Koshiro of Lamu." He grins broadly. "We played Jupani-pile back at the College Esoterica in Rephidim, right?"

Envoy grins and nods. "Koshiro of Lamu? I suppose that's why I haven't seen you around Caroban before."

Rory grins, pausing to stoop and put away the last of his candles into a pouch. "This is our first time to Caroban!" he says. "Isn't it just so dark?" He pauses a moment, then his brow wrinkles in contemplation. "Er … I mean … " He glances at Envoy's robes. "… earthy?" He blinks. "Hey! I didn't know you were a mage, too!"

"I wasn't when we met," Envoy admits. "I started to study a few years later. Coincidentally, your friend Skiree helped me get noticed by the College," she adds, and waves her popsicle, "with one of these treats."

"Dark!" Rory says. "You're friends with Skiree? You know, I've been looking around for her, but I haven't run into her yet. But I've been pretty busy since I got back. You see, I'm up for my test to become a Journeyman!" He smiles proudly. "I'm going to be a real mage!"

The unicorn curiously looks at the frozen treat, his mind perhaps working over the idea about how a confection could possibly get one into the College. "Hmm," he says, as he ponders.

"Really? What sort of work do you plan on doing once you pass?" Envoy asks. Being a Journeyman means having to start paying back tuition fees. "I haven't seen Skiree in years though, not since that day actually. She was with Master Zahirinee, and it was her popsicle that let me disrupt a rampaging ice golem. That was back before the last war."

Meanwhile, the Naga mage presiding over the event hands out some ribbons to the first, second and third place winners of the race. (Alas for the kitten mage, there's no fourth place award.) There is much cheering and carrying on, quite contrary to the usual quiet and solemnity that characterizes the School of Shadow (or so most people assume).

"Wow! A rampaging ice golem?!" Rory seems to completely miss the question about work, in favor of the far more interesting prospect of adventure with a popsicle. "Did you enchant it to turn it into a mighty sword of ice, that let you vanquish the monster? Er, wait, you're an earth mage. Maybe you put rocks in it?"

Envoy blinks, and looks at the dripping confection, trying to picture it being a sword. "Actually, I just stuck it into the magical nexus point and it disrupted the spell. Then a lot of ice fell on top of me."

"Ohhhh," Rory says, slightly disappointed. "Well, an ice sword would have been dark. Er … cool, that is." He scratches his mane, then says, "Well, I was hoping to find Skiree, because, you know, I'm the same Sphere as her now, so maybe we can take some classes together. You see, I'm a Shadow-Light-Life Mage now. They're going to test me on Shadow Magic, but Koshiro taught me Light and Life, too. But I think they need to deliberate on how much of my teaching will transfer, because Koshiro isn't part of the College, and I guess they've got rules about that, but he's got a grandfather clause on account of he's older than the College is, or something like that … I think."

"Three spheres! That's impressive," Envoy says, and offers her popsicle to Rory. "Older than the College? Is he a First Ones artifact?"

"No, he's a dragon," Rory says. "A Shadow Dragon. He came from Aeonia. Dragons live a really long time." He takes the popsicle absently, then remembers himself. "Oh! Thank you! What flavor is it?"

"It's … purple flavored," Envoy says, unsure of just which fruit provided the juice. "A dragon from the home world of your kind then? He must remember how you all got here then."

Rory's response is reduced to a muffled "Mmm-hmm" as he pops the frozen confection in his mouth and slurps noisily. "Mmmm!" he proclaims, approvingly.

Rory asks something muffled by the popsicle, "Mmm-hmm-mm-hmm-mmm?" and seems to be gesturing for Envoy to walk along. He has his magic circle scrubbed now, and his candles and colored stones are returned to his belt pouches.

The Aeolun follows the gesture. "Where to now? How did you end up in Lamu?"

The unicorn momentarily extracts the popsicle from his mouth, leaving his lips tinged purple. "I'm just walking around, really. After this, the good stuff doesn't really happen until the evening. We have the races during the daylight because, well, it's shadows, you know? Any road, we were on this field trip, and I met a bunch of neat people there, including Reece, who is a Niton.

"I'm not familiar with that race," Envoy says after a moment. "Are Nitons also from Aeonia?"

"No, Nitons are from Lamu, though I didn't know that right off at first. The thing is, though," Rory adds, looking sad, "some stupid war broke out, and we couldn't go back to Rephidim, and Skiree had to leave, because her parents wanted her back in Babel. And we went on to Lamu, and there was this accident with the Giant Carpenter Beetles of Doom, and they damaged Reece's magical amulet that helped keep him alive – You see, he's from a really short-lived race of people who live in Lamu, but Koshiro gave him an amulet to help him live longer."

"So," Rory says, and then stops to take another long draw on the popsicle, instead of finishing his sentence. He smiles approvingly of the flavor.

Envoy blinks at this revelation, and asks, "Does the amulet only work on Nitons?"

The unicorn nods. "It's especially made for them. I don't know why exactly it is that way – It has something to do with radiation in Lamu. I don't know if Nitons are naturally supposed to live so short of lives, or if it's just caused by the radiation, or what. But things are really strange there in the valley. Plants grow and die real fast. It is so weird." He suddenly looks very sad. "I knew little Nitons, and they grew up and had their own little Nitons, and got old and died, and … I hardly got to know them at all."

Envoy places a hand on Rory's shoulder, and says, "That must have been hard for you. Is that where you studied with the dragon?"

Rory nods, taking another draw on the popsicle, then extracting it to reply, "Yes. He lives in a cave. He helped me to find out more about where I came from, though I really don't understand it all, still. Silhouette has a house out there, you know. Or, that is, Sylvan does. Or did. Uhm … Now I'm getting into the confusing part." He frowns, and his ears droop. "Any road, I found out I have a last name: Shadowstorm. And Koshiro's kind of family, I guess, because he was responsible for making me. Sort of. I'm not really a natural-born Aeonian, you see. It's a bunch of magic hocus-pocus stuff. He blends shadow, light and life magic all together, so that's why he taught all three to me, because he can't separate them apart."

Envoy grins suddenly. "Well, you've got black and white mixed together in your fur, so I suppose that's appropriate. I remember you talking about Silhouette before, but I never met her. She went with you to Lamu, I take it?"

The unicorn nods and looks around, briefly pausing to scrutinize a shadow-puppeteer's booth (the kind where paper puppets are used, not just magic) is sitting, partially assembled for the evening festival. "She was with me just a bit ago, but she wanted to go look at stuff after the race was over with." He looks back to Envoy. "I hope I'm not weirding you out or anything over this. I know it's a really strange story, and I probably have all the facts messed up myself, so if it's too weird for you, I can talk about other stuff." He takes another slurp on the popsicle. "This is really good, by the road." He goes back to slurping on it again.

"Nothing weirds me out," Envoy assures the unicorn. "I was put together by a dragon myself, essentially. It sort of explains why you're the only young Aeonian I've ever heard of, too. Is Koshiro your parent then, or did he just help your parents make you?"

"Wellllll," Rory says, "that's where it gets really weird." He takes a deep breath, then remembers the popsicle, takes another slurp, then takes another deep breath. "First, there was Corwyn and Sylvan, who came from Aeonia, sent here by the Dragons. Corwyn was a knight, and Sylvan was a healer, but she was an outcast, because she's black, and Aeonians think that means you're Tainted. Any road, I think they really liked each other, even though they got into lots of arguments, and Sylvan was learning magic from Koshiro, but Corwyn got wounded and almost killed by some raiders, and Sylvan couldn't heal him."

Envoy listens closely, showing some surprise at mention of black unicorns being outcasts.

The little unicorn takes another deep breath, and something about the way he tells the story suggests that he's had some practice, even though he still looks sad as he tells it. "Koshiro could help her save Corwyn, but he could only do so with a very dangerous spell, and he needed something to work from. Sylvan sacrificed herself for the spell, but instead of Corwyn coming back … what they got was me." He promptly shoves the popsicle back into his mouth.

"Corwyn was a white unicorn then?" Envoy asks, looking again at Rory's mottled fur pattern. "And you said that Silhouette's house was also Sylvan's house. Is Silhouette really Sylvan then?"

Envoy's photographic memory tells her with all certainty that Rory's mottled fur pattern is not the same as when she last saw him so many years ago, though to a casual glance, this wouldn't be obvious, for it just seems to be a random, asymmetrical pattern of writhing black and white splotches.

"Well, sort of. Kind of," Rory continues. "You see, when we went back to the house, we started having these … uhm … flashbacks. Bits of memory. Only it wasn't our memory. It was Corwyn's. And Sylvan's. It happened to both of us. I have some of Corwyn's memories, and some of Sylvan's. And so does Silhouette. Though I kind of have more of Corwyn's, and she has more of Sylvan's. And, yes, Corwyn was white. All Aeonians are white. Except for the black ones." He furrows his brow at his own statement. "Or something like that."

The Aeolun tilts her head and narrows her eyes slightly. "You pattern has changed. Does Silhouette also have black and white markings?"

"Mmmm?" Rory looks up, somewhat absently. "Oh!" He says, once he frees his mouth again. "Well, I'm a Shadow-Light-Life Mage now, so I got new robes. Well, actually, this outfit's just a lot better for climbing around Lamu in. But I've got the Rune of the Mirror, the Tree and the Sun on my outfit now. According to Rephidim color schemes, my robes should be purple, but I guess I'm going with Babelite tradition instead. They aren't quite as worried about the colors, really."

"Silhouette, though," Rory says, "she's not a mage, so she doesn't wear mage robes. Sylvan was a mage, but Silhouette isn't. Some day, though, I'm going to make Silhouette real, when I'm a really powerful mage. And then maybe she can do magic just like Sylvan did."

Envoy leads the unicorn to a bench and has a seat. "No, I meant that the patterns of black and white in your fur have changed. Err … make Silhouette real? Isn't she already real?"

"Well, yes," Rory says, "she's real. Even Mage Canticle believes that now. He says she's an elemental. But I mean to make her solid. You know, with really powerful Shadow spells, shadow elementals can actually affect their environment. But those spells don't last long. But since Silhouette is already here and I don't need to cast spells to make her stick around, then maybe something could be done to permanently make her solid. Or something like that. I really don't know just how that would work. I need to study more, and when I understand more about magic, maybe I'll be able to understand what it was that Koshiro did. I mean … I figure something must have gone wrong, because both Corwyn and Sylvan are gone, and I'm not Corwyn, even if I have his memories and maybe I have his 'life force' or something like that. I really wish I could bring them back. I mean … I guess they're sort of my Mom and Dad, and Silhouette's too. Sort of."

Envoy hmms. "So … you have one body with two minds and spirits? I wonder if Silhouette would follow you into a Dream realm then?"

The unicorn scratches his head. "Uhm … yeah … I guess that's sort of it. Except that Silhouette can run around even if she doesn't have a solid body. But she never goes very far from me. At least, I don't think so. And she gets tired more quickly when we go up to Rephidim and here to Caroban. It's a magic thing. But … uh … I don't know anything about Dream, much. There were a couple of sisters, Kiz and Kell, who helped me – they're Dream Mages – recover some of these memories. You know, they're all grown up now? It is so weird."

Rory distractedly returns to slurping the popsicle, which is steadily getting smaller. He bites off a chunk, then grimaces, as he gets a sudden case of cold-tooth … but this doesn't stop him from going right back to enjoying the rest of the confection.

Nodding, Envoy says, "I've met them; they helped with a ritual that got me out of a Dream world I was trapped in. If Silhouette is affected by magic, then I suggest you not visit any of the Gateway worlds until you know she can survive the journey."

"Oh," Rory says, solemnly regarding Envoy's warning, as he continues along the way. The buildings of the School of Shadow are starting to give way to those of the School of Illusion, as the unicorn's route takes him toward the outer ring of Caroban. The buildings are constructed in an exercise of forced perspective, trompe l'oiel, and a number of tricks of light and shadow that aren't far removed from those employed in the neighboring Shadowlands. "Yeah, I heard a little about the Gateway Worlds. Oh yeah! You're an explorer, aren't you? I keep hearing your name come up." With another slurp and some munching, he cleans the rest of the frozen confection off of the wooden stick handle. "Is my tongue purple?" He sticks it out for inspection.

Envoy leans down to check, and nods. "It is. I'd never noticed that effect of popsicles before … but I suppose I just don't look in the mirror very often. Oh, want to see some neat things from last trip off world?" she says, grinning widely at the chance to show off stuff to someone that might appreciate them on coolness value alone.

"Sure!" Rory enthuses, absently sticking the sticky popsicle stick into one of his component pouches, and wiping his mouth on a sleeve. "How many worlds have you been to?"

Pulling an envelope from one of her own pockets, Envoy says, "Four so far, not counting Sinai." Opening the packet, she pulls out several shiny pieces of paper. "These are photo-graphs, taken on Abaddon," she explains, and shows Rory a black and white (well, shades of gray) picture of herself and some human standing next to a humongous metal monster. "That's the Leviathan. I'm still collecting things to make it work again."

"Darrrrrrk!" Rory remarks, as he examines the picture. "It's like … a gradient shadow image permanently enchanted onto … parchment!" He examines the photo-graph, finding that the material is not anything like parchment. "Leviathan? Whoaaaaaa! That's huge! It's like a giant metal Koshiro! I'll have to write to Master Koshiro about this!"

Envoy sorts through the photos, and pulls out one of a metallic sphere with various spiky things protruding from it. "This is a Juggernaut. Six of these things chased me around the laboratory of a mad scientist and almost killed me. They ran on steam, and each had a different way of moving and attacking. This one here shot out little darts with lines attached, and could pull itself around with them."

"Darrrrrrk!" Rory remarks with awe. "Oh! They're made out of metal, so you probably just cast a Rust spell on them, huh?"

Shaking her head, Envoy explains, "Regular magic doesn't work on Abaddon. It has its own sort of magic, but it's more limited and only affects machines that have lots of complicated parts. Each world seems to have a different sort of magic, but none so far let you use actual spells."

"Ohhhhh," Rory says, nodding exaggeratedly. "I'm sorry, I should've known that. Yeah. Abaddon. No spells. Right." He suddenly stops as he bumps into a corridor … or, rather, a wall that had been magicked to have the illusion of a corridor leading off into a very unlikely-looking landscape with candy-cane trees, rivers of xocholatl syrup, sugarfirs everywhere, and gingerbread Jupanis standing about. "Ow," Rory says, rubbing his nose. "I did it again."

"Plus, I'd lost my magic ability to the Seven Sisters earlier anyway," Envoy says as she examines the illusion. "Hmmm, maybe Silhouette could study Illusion magic to make herself a sort of body. Can she talk?"

"She and I communicate with Silent Sign," the unicorn says, still rubbing his muzzle. He lifts his hand, tracing it along the disguised wall, until it passes seemingly through what should have been a continuation of the wall – That is, what looked like a simple case of trompe l'oeil painting on a wall is actually an alleyway continuing onward, whereas the apparent passage was in fact an illusion. He gingerly tests the path beyond the "wall" for its solidity, then more confidently strides on.

Envoy follows through the curtain of magic as well. She hasn't really spent much time in the various other schools since the original construction was done. "In that case … can she dance?"

The unicorn laughs. "We both dance! She's better than I am, though. You know what? She used to cast magic by dancing. And I do that a lot, too – but for me it's mostly because, well, Shadow Magic is supposed to be quiet, you see. So I use a lot of hand-signs and dancing instead of chants sometimes, for my quiet spells. But I think she just did it because she liked it." He blinks again, as if catching himself. "Er, I mean, Sylvan did. Sorry – I keep getting muddled up by this whole mess." He reaches an archway, and tentatively sticks a hand out first this time to verify that there actually is an opening to the hedge garden beyond, before proceeding through. "Don't worry about the shrubs," he says. "They won't eat you," he adds, though something in his voice hints that the statement is for his own benefit as well as for Envoy's.

Envoy eyes the hedge suspiciously, but is pretty sure the dangerous plants are all in the gardens of Earth. "Well, maybe Sylvan learned her magic from Savanite mages. If you'd like to go to Xenea so Silhouette can learn their style of magic better, I can write you a letter of introduction."

A wind blows through the hedge garden. The topiary bushes are all sculpted in whimsical shapes – of creatures, of airships, of windmills, candles with flames, and other oddities. The dweomers present on them are tangible enough that Envoy can sense them, but they're also fairly weak enchantments, and Envoy's own ties to Earth Magic allows her to too easily see through them to the true plants beneath. Nonetheless, to one possessed of enough imagination, one can easily see the plant creatures as waving and dancing about, a giant fuff'nar snapping at Rory as he hastily scoots past, and a rustling in the leaves actually chanting, "Gonna eat you! Gonna eat you!" But these are certainly not the ambulatory plants to be found in the Sphere of Earth – just clever construction of the garden to ensure frequent swirls of wind at any given moment, and a frequently recharged enchantment upon the hedges.

The unicorn ponders Envoy's suggestion. "Maybe," he ventures. "I'm not sure what the College thinks about Savanite magic, though. A few apprentices have asked me what I was doing, casting Savanite magic. But Shadow mages get that sometimes."

The Aeolun grins and enjoys the garden despite seeing the hidden workings. Illusionists seem to have the best senses of humor among the Spheres. "This is definitely a sphere to look into, Rory. I'll have to study it myself someday."

"The College is still revising its policies after recent events," Envoy comments. "A group of Savanite Mages even came here to petition for recognition, but it may all be moot if the College decides to officially acknowledge or accredit shamans and hedge-wizards. They're even rethinking the policies on spirit creatures … so it's possible that Silhouette could become an official mage as well, eventually."

"Dark!" Rory says, grinning at the notion. "I think she'd make a really good Shadow Mage. I mean, being a shadow already and all, she should have a good head start! Uhm … well … except that I guess being alive doesn't make you a better Life Mage … except that being dead would really be bad, of course, but … " Rory's musings trail off, as he ducks under a hedge-wrought drawbridge, heading back out of the hedge garden. "I hope we came out the right way this time," he muses quietly to himself.

Envoy almost suggests using the right-hand-against-the-wall technique of maze navigation … but realizes it may not work in a maze enchanted with Illusion spells. "Have you explored all of the campuses on Caroban already?"

Rory shakes his head in the negative. "No, it's too large! Plus, there are so many places I'm not allowed to just wander into, especially when there are classes going. Ho boy … you can't get hardly anywhere in Chaos without a guide! And I'm not paying one of the apprentices to show me the way. They'd probably just get me lost somewhere. I hear that sometimes you have to swim to get through one of those tours! That'd be bad."

Envoy giggles at this. "Well, I haven't had to visit Chaos yet … but I can fly, so that might make it easier."

The unicorn ponders this. "You know … that ought to make it a lot easier!" He sighs. "But I haven't got wings." He flops his sleeves around, as if pretending that they are, nonetheless. Meanwhile, past a few more buildings, he and Envoy step out into something of a bazaar or a carnival – maybe a little of both – as performers up on stages take part in acrobatic and seemingly death-defying (and physics-defying) stunts, stage magicians partake in acts of legerdemain, booths offer candy treats with weak (but amusing) dweomers lingering upon them, and generally it's hard to tell what all is really employing magic, and what is just a case of smoke, mirrors and feats of prestidigitation and redirection.

"Wow!" Envoy exclaims at the sight. "This looks fun! But I wouldn't try any soups if I were you. Trust me on this."

The unicorn nods. "Okay. Uhm … what do you think we ought to do first?" He looks around, clearly indecisive in the face of so many sights to see. "I don't really know what's planned. I didn't get a schedule."

"Let's see if they have any games," Envoy suggests. "Those are usually pretty fun. Maybe they have a mirror maze too."

"All right!" Rory enthuses. He walks along with Envoy, looking around for anything that might be a bit more interactive than just a performance. There are the usual carnival sports, though they're made more entertaining through illusions (of course) … or more frustrating. The game to toss a stuffed fox into the mouth of a giant plaster Gooshurm looks pretty easy, for example, except that as one of the contestants tosses the fox, it seems to shoot off at an odd angle, not unlike tossing pebbles into water to try to hit a target beneath the surface. When the barker (a Zerda, oddly enough) steps back to catch tossed foxes, the analogy holds, as it seems that his form compacts and distorts in odd ways as he moves, something like being viewed in a funhouse mirror.

Envoy points to the fox-toss, and asks Rory, "Want to give that one a try? My treat."

The unicorn almost squeals. "Yeahhhhh!" He then ponders, "Hmm. I wonder if spellcasting is allowed?"

The Zerda, displaying his typically acute hearing, points at the sign that says, "No spellcasting allowed."

"Awwwwwwww!" Rory pouts.

"How many tries does each person get?" the Aeolun asks the barker.

"It is random!" the Zerda says, then gestures to a ridiculously oversized die. Each face of the die has varying numbers of fox silhouettes instead of pips on it – the appropriate number for each of six faces.

"Want to go first, Rory?" Envoy asks the Shadow Mage. "I bet the target is at an angle, and the illusion is just making it look like it's straight-on."

Rory nods, and leans conspiratorially to Envoy. "That's what I was thinking! I was going to try to scry it … but that'd be cheating, I guess."

The Zerda beams. "Get a foxie into the Gooshurm's maw, and you win the foxie! Only one shekel to play!"

Envoy nods to Rory, and tells the fennec, "My friend will go first," as she places a shekel on the counter.

The unicorn makes a face. "Ewwww! That Gooshurm drool isn't real, is it? I mean, the foxie's not so good if it's got Gooshurm goop on it."

The Zerda smiles mischievously. "The Gooshurm goop is free!" He holds up a wooden jar labeled "Gooshurm Goop", with a printed label showing an overly happy Gooshurm slurping an unhappy fox. "Use it to disgust your friends!"

The unicorn ponders this, contemplating. "Oh. Hmm. All right!" He smiles, and steps up. "Uhm … what do I do first?"

The Zerda picks up the enormous die … which somehow shrinks to more modest proportions by the time he brings it up to the counter at the front of the booth. "Just hurl the die into the booth, and we shall see what it comes up as!"

The unicorn takes up the die. He holds it up to Envoy for inspection. "Can you blow on it or something for good luck?"

Envoy thinks about this, and reaches into her robes to remove a large zolk pouch. From out of the pouch she takes what looks like a crown with glowing crystals embedded in it, and this she passes over the die. "May the First Ones smile upon the casting of this die!" she intones.

"Whoaaaaa!" the unicorn enthuses, at the glittering crystal crown.

The Zerda furrows a brow suspiciously, but says nothing by way of protest.

The unicorn brings the die back to the counter, somewhat reverently, as if he is holding something sacred. "Just throw it into the booth, right?"

The Zerda nods.

The Aeolun tucks the crown away out of sight once more. She wasn't going to wear it until later in the evening anyway.

The die flies into the booth without any grand mishaps accompanying the toss. Rory seems to have purposefully aimed the die to try to bank it off of the plaster Gooshurm, but its course diverts well before coming anywhere close to the statue, and bounces off of the walls of the booth, finally coming to a rest on the floor. The Zerda stoops over, picks up the die, and proclaims, "Three foxes!" He pulls three stuffed foxes out of a barrel and sets them before Rory. They have soft black button eyes, sewn smiling faces, completely oblivious to the horrors of being tossed into the awaiting maw of a slimy Gooshurm.

Envoy leans over and carefully inspects the foxes for fuses. "They look safe enough," she declares.

Rory carefully gauges the distance to the Gooshurm, takes up the first fox (a red fox) in one hand, and lines up … then turns a few degrees to the left, in a path that should miss the Gooshurm by a wide mark – to try to correct for his earlier miss with the die. He gives it a good hurl…

… however, he didn't compensate enough. The fox diverts its course in mid-air, and still sails harmlessly off to the right, quite free from the Gooshurm's slobbery grasp. As the foxie lands in a heap on the floor, it still beams cheerily, as if quite pleased to be spared the fate. "Two left!" the Zerda says.

Rory makes a raspberry sound with his lips, and takes up the second fox, this one a curious shade of blue in color. He carefully lines up, this time angling even more to the left, such that it might appear to the untrained that he will just send it flying right into the side-flap of the booth's canvas covering.

Envoy hmms, and says, "I think you're on the right track, Rory."

The little blue fox sails off, does a sharp turn in the air … then does another sharp turn back to the left … and ends up sailing over the head of the Gooshurm, smacking against the back canvas, and then rolling to land, upside-down, on its head, though still grinning happily.

Envoy tilts her head sideways, then back upright again. "Could there be two planes of illusion, do you think?" she asks Rory.

Rory lets out a disappointed "Awwwwww! I didn't know there was going to be another distortion!" He roll his eyes and sighs in a very longsuffering manner, and grasps up the last fox, a brilliant gold in color.

Envoy makes a sound like the chiming of little bells, adding, "For luck."

The unicorn spends a long moment, sizing up the path. Finally, he shakes his head, lines up … and closes his eyes as he hurls the fox. "Gogogogo FOXY!" he chants.

The golden fox hurls through the air, goes through a couple of zigs and zags (perhaps three or four illusion layers), then hits the Gooshurm right on the top of its head, barely missing the mouth … whereupon it bounces back … bounces off of the Zerda (who shields his ears with his hands) with a squeak, goes sailing out of the booth, and, just as a kitten apprentice in Shadow Mage robes and with a butterfly headpiece is walking by, the fox lands right on a large multi-colored candy-confection she's carrying, falls off, and – before it hits the ground – gets caught up by a happily chirping Creen!

Rory's eyes are still closed. "Tell me I made it! Tell me I made it! Pleeeeeease?"

Envoy cries out in alarm at the spectacle, but recovers quickly. "That has to be worth a prize. Rory isn't a Chaos Mage after all." Realizing Rory didn't actually see any of it though, she tells him, "It came awfully close."

The Zerda blinks in disbelief. "I will tell you this – If you can retrieve that fox doll, then it is yours, genoh?"

Rory opens his eyes, sees no sign of the fox doll, and looks around, just in time to see the Creen making off with the little (and partially candy-coated) fox doll, while the kitten mage looks dejectedly up after it, her confection somewhat the less for color for having lost part of its coating.

Envoy nods, and steps away from the booth a few paces before chirping and trilling some Creen calls.

A couple of Creens fly by, answering Envoy's call, but the one that already has a prize flutters up toward the top of a tree nearby.

Rory pouts. "We'll never get that back! Awww!"

The unicorn looks back to the Zerda. "We can use spells to get the doll back, though, can't we?"

"Are you thinking of sending your shadow Creen after it?" Envoy asks.

The Zerda splays his hands. "Spellcasting is fine outside my booth!"

Rory turns to nod to Envoy. "Well, maybe. I'm just trying to think of the best way to go about it without causing too much trouble."

"I'll be right back then," Envoy says, and goes over to the kitten, offering to get her a new treat.

The kitten mage looks up to Envoy. It's the same one from the shadow Creen race. She's wearing a little ribbon that someone seems to have put together in impromptu fashion, reading, "Fourth Place, Great First Ones' Day Shadow Race, 6105 RTR".

"Oh, you're the Flutterby handler!" Envoy says cheerfully. "I thought it was very nicely done. Would you like a fresh treat to replace this one? We're sorry for ruining it."

The kitten looks up to Envoy. "Oh!" She smiles. "You remember Flutterby!" She beams all the more. "Oh, that's all right. It's just fine. Just lost a little sprinkly-stuff off the top. Thank you, though!" she mews.

Envoy grins and gives the kitten a pat on the head. "Keep practicing, so you can come in first next year, okay?"

The kitten nods vigorously. "I will!" she promises.

Returning to Rory, Envoy reports, "No harm done! Do you want to try and use magic, or take our chances at the booth again?"

Rory ponders this, and says, "Well, I think my chances are probably better with magic. I mean … I don't think I have a chance with that illusion! Besides … this is a lot more exciting!"

Envoy nods enthusiastically. "Do you need anything special?" she asks.

Rory ponders. "Well … aside from good ideas… " He then ponders some more. "Using my shadow Creen is probably a good idea. I could either try to scare the Creen, make it drop the fox, or try to confuse it. But that's a long drop."

"I could fly behind it and try to catch the doll when it's dropped," Envoy offers.

"Oh yeah!" Rory says, slapping himself on the forehead (well, a little off from it, actually, as he's quite aware of his horn being there). "I forgot. You have wings!"

Envoy nods, and grins. "I just can't catch a Creen in flight."

Rory nods. "Okay. I'll start a Shadow ritual, and hopefully the Creen won't be done licking off all the candy by the time I'm done. I'll have my Creen go up and do the ooga-booga thing, and hopefully he'll drop the fox … and you can nab it!"

"Sounds like a good plan!" Envoy agrees. "The shadow Creen will be able to find the real one, right?"

Rory nods. "I sure hope so!" With that, he finds a fairly flat spot, and starts digging out the components he was using earlier – his chalks, his candles, some colored stones – and starts making a magic circle.

"Would you like anything to eat or drink while you work?" the Aeolun asks.

Rory shakes his head. "Oh, that's all right. I just make a mess if I do that. Hopefully it won't take too long. I'm pretty fast."

Envoy nods and steps back a bit, making sure she'll have room to take off without knocking anything over.

After a bit of preparation, Rory is well into the ritual. He has opted to do a more active sort of spellcasting, dancing and making his way around the circle as he does a sing-song chant. He would look terribly odd if his casting style stays unchanged to the point that he actually grows up. As it is, he's enough of a spectacle for the kitten shadow mage to come over, watching while she's munching on what remains of her confection.

The kitten holds up her color-cone to Envoy. "You want some?"

Envoy plucks a bit from the offered cone and says, "Thank you!" Popping it into her mouth, she lets it melt on her tongue.

Time passes. A few passers by pause, curious, and then realize that Rory isn't part of some larger performance, and make their way on along. The little kitten occasionally wanders off to check on this or that, but just as occasionally wanders back again to see how things are going. At last, a little shadow Creen rises from the center of the circle, this time seeming to inhabit its own three dimensional space, rather than just being a projection upon the cobbles.

Envoy moves to a clear spot once again, and prepares to follow the shadow Creen once it starts its search.

Rory stands in the middle of the circle, flicking hand-signs to give the Creen its instructions. In Silent Sign, he's basically just telling the Creen a description of the one that flew off with the stuffed fox, and instructing it to go off and find the Creen and make a commotion if it discovers anything. The shadow Creen bobs its head in acknowledgement, turns around and opens its mouth as if in a friendly (but silent) squeal at the kitten and Envoy, then flutters up to the sky, looking about.

The kitten mage, having returned from one of her forays, claps gleefully (having since freed her hands of the confection by finishing it off) at the sight of the fluttering Creen.

"The fox hunt has begun!" Envoy declares, and launches herself into the air, chasing after the shadow Creen – which unlike a normal Creen shows up more readily to her magic sense.

The shadow Creen flits this way and that, in between rooftops, spires, pennant flags and trees, and Rory is soon lost from sight. Occasionally, the Creen breaks from its search to playfully fly a circuit around Envoy, but then returns to the business at hand (or wing or claw or what-have-you).

The Aeolun keeps up as best she can, since the shadow can make sharper turns and fit between buildings more easily.

The Creen circles what at first appears to be a tree, though Envoy notices that the shadow it casts is far more like that of one of the bell spires. As the shadow Creen flits toward one of the branches, the illusion ripples from the disturbance, as it flies into what must be an open belfry. There is an audible commotion from within the tree, shortly followed by a very real Creen fluttering out, its stuffed prize grasped in its claws, trailing bits of candy sprinkles in its wake. The shadow Creen is hot on its tail, occasionally diving to "eat" some of the falling sprinkles, much to the cried dismays of the one doing the fleeing.

As it is, the little Creen thief seems to be quite preoccupied with the fact that the shadow Creen is "eating" its prized catch, and doesn't seem to notice Envoy at all.

Envoy eeps and tries to block the fox-napping Creen's escape. At least it can't move any faster than she can while carrying the doll.

She couldn't have planned it any better! As she swoops to block the Creen's flight out, it notices her at the last moment, and tries to fly off into another "belfry" to escape … but the disorienting effects of illusion strike again, as it bounces off of a nearly invisible wall (which Envoy was somewhat privy to, having sensed the lingering effects of magic nearby). It cries out in alarm as the stuffed fox smacks against the wall, knocking the little sprinkles free. The Creen drops the doll and dives after the sprinkles, snapping up as many as it can in mid air, while the fox doll falls … right into Envoy's waiting grasp!

Down below, Envoy can hear some applause and a few squeals of approval.

Envoy blinks and looks below, not realizing she had an audience! Feeling a little embarrassed, she clutches the doll and flies back down to where Rory is waiting.

Once Envoy flies back down, with a few less illusions between herself and the ground, her audience is a bit easier to see. They applaud again as she sets down. The little shadow Creen returns, and Rory, following his usual routine, produces a few shadow-bugs for it to feast upon before it goes back to "the realm of shadow", disappearing from the material world. Rory then hastily picks up his materials again, and scuffs up the magical circle to clean up his mess.

Envoy manages a quick bow to the watchers, then holds the doll out to Rory. "It worked like … like magic!" she says, grinning.

Rory laughs, as he takes the little golden fox doll. He regards it for a moment, as if deciding just what to do with it.

The little unicorn rubs its fur a bit, knocking off some of the candy sprinkles that still remain, then casts a sidelong glance to the kitten mage. He leans over to Envoy, then says, "I know you went to a lot of trouble getting this … but I think this is probably more for girls, don't you think?"

"I suppose so," Envoy agrees, although she isn't too sure. The only stuffed animal she ever had, she ended up giving to a Zelak.

Rory hands the little doll back to Envoy. "Maybe you could give it to her?" He gestures to the kitten. "I feel kind of bad about her candy-thing getting messed up and all." He grins. "But boy it was great getting it back! You were awesome!"

Envoy grins and winks to Rory, then turns to the kitten and says, "Since she flew over to you first, we want you to have her for coming in fourth in the race."

The kitten's eyes light up with surprise. "For me?" she mews inquisitively, and holds out her paws, ears perking.

Handing over the doll, Envoy says, "Of course. You both like the same sweets after all."

Rory covers his muzzle to hide a big grin.

The kitten grabs the fox doll and hugs it tightly. "Thank you!" she mews, rocking back and forth with it in her arms.

Meanwhile, a clock rings the hour. The sky is starting to get dark, and some of the lanterns are being lit.

"A happy kitten is worth all the shekels in the world," Envoy says to Rory, then notices the lanterns coming out. "We'd better hurry if want good seats for the fireworks display! Maybe one of the Fire Apprentices will blow up something unexpected!"