No Matter How Bad it Gets, Pet the Cat (19 Jun 2002) Hannah has a talk with Bragwaine and Pelles about her worries.

Oberia's Parlor
Adobe walls, fine silk hangings of colors that, protected from the sun, have not faded, oiled paper windows that turn the fading evening sunlight into vague panes of golden light, and plushly thick upholstered couches covered with woven blankets, these are a few of the things that meet the eye immediately. One comfortable chair is surrounded by scrolls and maps, and a scroll case shelf sits by it with row on row of holes filled with such correspondence; a brazier sits nearby to provide immediate heat and light in the bitterly dry cold of winter.

Although Hannah is still feeling less than healthy, after her run-in at the city gates, the ministrations of Oberia and the healer that she called have been effective -- that, and some rest. Now, Hannah is seated in the parlor, near the brazier and accompanied by a steaming hot cup of tea ... while a small furry creature vies for her attention.

Hannah sips at her tea while watching the small ball of fur out of the corner of her eye. Eventually, she puts one hand down to the creature and says, smiling, "Hello there. Something to tell me? Or are you just trying to climb up my legs for the fun of it?"

"Hee hee!" giggles the cat. "Are you feeling any better?"

"I'm better for the rest and for the wise woman's help, but I'm not back up to full strength - not yet." Hannah frowns, remembering all that has happened to her recently. "Whoever that man was in the black robes, he has a few things to answer for."

"It's awful what happened to you," the cat mrowls. "If only we could do something about it! And all the adventures you're no doubt missing while the others are off being heroes!"

Hannah blinks at the cat's last words. Apparently, the thought that Agatha would already be off on another errand has only just occurred to her. She taps her forehead with one finger, looking sheepish. "Ah, yes - I should have realized that, since Ag- er, I mean, Redmane hasn't been around to check on me yet. Do you happen to know where she went, Bragwaine?"

"Oh, now DO I!" the cat meows, rolling her crossed eyes (to weird effect). "Why, Pelles started shouting at me, telling me to go off, fetch the Lord of Horses, send her off chasing down the Black Robes before they overtake Lord Explorer Thomas and Sir Lefallon and Rachel.... Goodness! I half wished I just could have eaten that raven, for all the trouble I get whenever Pelles is worked up!"

Hannah chokes a bit in the act of sipping more of her tea. Once she finally swallows it down, she says in surprise, "More black-robed men, chasing down Lord Thomas? That means we've caught up to them!" She hurriedly sets her cup down onto the floor and looks heavenward, as if saying a silent prayer of thanks. To the cat, she says, "I hope that Redmane will be able to reach them before the Black Robes do! Considering whatever that one did to me, more of them cannot be a good sign."

Bragwaine grooms a paw, not looking the least bit concerned about anything, least of all Thomas and Agatha.

"And did I hear you correctly, Bragwaine - that Lord Pelles is here, as well?" Hannah asks, her voice trembling ever-so-slightly with nervousness. "As in, the Lord Pelles who was the keeper of the Holy Grail?"

The cat stops in mid-groom. "Oh. Of course he's here," she meows, then yawns. "But now that you're doing better, he'll probably drag me off Heaven knows where."

Hannah hesitates for a moment and frowns to herself, looking as if she is making up her mind about something. Finally, she asks, "Then if he is here, do you think that he would spare the time to talk to me? I would like his opinion on a few things..." She reaches down to scratch Bragwaine under her chin as an incentive as she says, "Would you ask him for me, please?"

"Surrrrrrrrrrrrrre," says Bragwaine in a drawn out purr. She blinks, then says, "I want more of that when I get back!" And then, the cat vanishes in that way she seems to be able to do even in a room with a scarcity of shadows or hiding places.

Hannah smiles after the cat, then her face clouds over again in thought, as she decides on what she will say to Pelles. It is not an easy subject that she will bring up, so she tries to prepare for the conversation as best she can.

She is not given much time to consider her thoughts, before she hears the pitter-pat of cat footsteps, and feels a furry head shove itself insistently against her hand. "More!" Bragwaine meows insistently, while the old beggar with the crooked cane and the even more crooked gait hobbles into the room, taking a seat opposite. "You wished to see me," he says in a flat, sandy voice.

Hannah murmurs, "I will Bragwaine, after a moment," to the cat, then stands briefly so that she can give a short bow to Pelles before taking her own seat again. Putting Bragwaine into her lap to administer the promised petting, she says to Pelles, "Thank you for agreeing to talk with me. I was wondering...would you give me your counsel on a certain matter? Even if it seemed to be too impossible to be true? Surely you have seen many unusual things in your lifetime, so perhaps you can help me to make sense of some things I have learned."

The old man reaches up to rub his chin, which is rough with a coarse beard that is frosted white with age. "You may ask, but it is for me to decide whether I answer."

Bragwaine purrs loudly and happily, but pauses a moment to whisper, "Sometimes, when he's cranky, he doesn't like to answer questions at all!"

Hannah nods vaguely to the cat to signal that she heard her whispering, but continues to address Pelles directly. "Fair enough, considering that the questions I have may not have any answers. Not ones that are happy, anyway." She sighs. "To begin with, I have come to understand that the fae can to travel to the mortal realm, just as mortals can travel to Mirari. Am I correct in this?"

"So it is, and so it has happened," Pelles says. "The ones that you know as Sir Lefallon and Rachel are among those who have traveled to what you deem the 'mortal realm.'"

"Don't forget the King!" Bragwaine meows, earning a furrowed brow from Pelles that seems to suggest that, no, he did not.

Hannah glances sharply at the feline resting in her lap, but does not comment on that statement for the moment. "Then if such travel is allowed, a connection of some sort must exist between our two worlds. Yet I also think this connection allows for so much more than just that. Judging from the talk I have heard from those who have lived among the mortals, it seems" Here Hannah takes a deep breath before continuing. "It seems that what is done in the mortal realm affects what happens here in Mirari. They can change our reality."

Pelles sits back in his chair at this, looking at Hannah with a steady, unnerving gaze. At last, he says, "And what if I were to confirm your suspicions? What would that mean to you?"

Hannah is obviously affected by Pelles's unwavering stare, for it keeps her from leaving her mouth hanging open in surprise at his words. Eventually, she stammers, "If you w-were to confirm them, then my worst fears would be realized."

"And then what?" Pelles says in a flat enough tone that it hardly seems a question but for the wording.

Hannah seems about to give a quick reply to the question, but then her brow furrows as she thinks it over more carefully. "Then I would try to find a way to break the hold that the mortal world has on us. And forge that connection anew, into something better. Some other kind of connection that does not allow for the whims of a game to govern our land's events."

"A noble idea," Pelles says, "an idea worthy of the contemplation of kings." He leans forward. "I am not going to answer your question. I am not going to tell you whether your supposition is true. Do you understand why I cannot do that?"

Hannah smiles, albeit a bit nervously. "Well, for one thing, I'm not sure that I have enough hard evidence to back up these suspicions - even though I think they are valid, Lord help us all," she says, only half-jokingly. "Seriously - perhaps it is because so many avenues for correcting the problem are open to us, that no single solution would be entirely appropriate? That we should not think in terms of absolutes, but in terms of possibilities?"

"Possibilities, exactly," Pelles says. "I can see that you have put a great amount of thought into this already. But these are very heavy burdens to weigh upon a young brow." The old man frowns, leaning back again, looking perhaps a bit sad. "I could try to explain to you a few things -- or, more precisely, to offer you ideas, possibilities -- but ... there is a danger in the telling. Whatever you think of the 'mortal realm,' know this: you are real. You are alive. You live and breathe, and you think. Cogito, ergo sum. I cannot look at you, and tell that you are not some sort of homunculus, some illusion, some phantom, beyond all shadow of doubt. Our senses, after all, are unreliable. But you are witness to your own thoughts, and your own soul. Never doubt that."

Hannah closes her eyes for a few moments after Pelles' reply, but it is clear from her posture and the look on her face that she has absorbed every word the wizard has said. When she opens them again, the glimmer of unshed tears can be plainly seen. "Perhaps one day you will explain to me how it is that wizards may sometimes see into another's thoughts," she says quietly. "But you are right - I have thought much on this subject, ever since the Lord Explorer first put the idea into my head that are worlds may be somehow more connected than we think. I have worried and fretted over it these many nights, but your counsel has helped me greatly. I thank you for that."

Pelles nods at this. "If that is all the counsel you wish of me, I shall leave you to your peace."

"Some peace," Bragwaine meows, half-grumbling in Hannah's lap.

Hannah pats the cat to quiet her, then nods to Pelles. "Yes, I have asked all the questions I needed to. I thank you again for your advice," she says. "Although, before you and your familiar leave, would you mind if I spent a few more minutes with Bragwaine?"

"You may do so," Pelles says, rising, "but I leave you with one warning -- one which will not become true just because I say so now: The mere fact that you concern yourself with this issue, that you dwell upon these thoughts, puts a cycle into motion that is not easily stopped. If you continue to concern yourself with these matters, you may find that you are no longer the same Hannah of House November that you thought you once were."

"I probably haven't been the same Hannah of House November since I met the Lord Explorer in the Golden Woods," Hannah comments with a small smile, "but I think I see your point. There are other important tasks to hand and I cannot forget them for the sake of my worries about this connection. I appreciate this advice, as well, Lord Pelles."

Pelles nods wordlessly, and hobbles out of the room, with an awkward gait that makes it hard to imagine that he could be a powerful sorcerer entrusted with anything so holy as the Grail. Bragwaine, however, just lies, content, in Hannah's lap, purring loudly.

Hannah leans back in her seat and scratches Bragwaine's ears for long, silent moments, lost in her own thoughts. At length, however, she remembers something and asks the cat, "Bragwaine? That comment you made earlier about the King? What did you mean by that?"

"Hmm? The King? Which comment? Oh! You mean about going to the mortal world? Well, you see, that's where he is!" Bragwaine meows. "That's why he's not here. It's also why it's still Winter, and he hasn't 'passed into historie.'"

The hand with which Hannah has been using to pet Bragwaine freezes at the cat's reply. "The King is in the mortal realm?" she asks, astonished. "Gah, the things you miss when you've been trapped in a fortress for a Year! I wonder why he left - and why he hasn't returned? I don't suppose you'd know anything about that, Bragwaine?"

"I suppose he's looking for something," Bragwaine says, "and he hasn't found it yet. Pelles probably knows why, but I'll bet he won't tell you. I do know the Houses would sure like to get the King back, whether the King wants to come back or not. Winter dragging on too long, and all that. Personally, I can hardly blame him; I hardly see why anyone even wants to become King, what with the price you have to pay. Perhaps it's just that nobody ever thinks about that part of it. Meow! People."

Hannah frowns at this. "Well, that price is one good reason why I wouldn't want to be chosen to rule Mirari - although I can think of a few others! Still, the King needs to be here to pass on the crown to his successor, or else we will not see the Spring again. Unless..." Here the auburn-haired girl pauses, as the trail of a thought comes to her. "What was it Pelles said? 'An idea worthy of the contemplation of kings?'" Hannah's eyes widen. "Could the King be searching for the same thing as I am? A way to break this unhealthy tie between our worlds? It may not be true, but it may be worth thinking about..."

Bragwaine yawns. "I have no idea! But my advice is this: Pet the cat. No matter how bad it gets, pet the cat, I always say! Petting the cat makes all your troubles go away! Meow!"

Hannah murmurs to herself, "Yes, an idea very worthy of thought ... but that can come later." Instead, she takes Bragwaine's advice and strokes her rhythmically. As she does so, she thinks on Pelles's counsel, and the unshed tears she had in her eyes course down her cheeks, at last.

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This site serves as a chronicle of sessions in an online roleplaying campaign moderated by Conrad "Lynx" Wong and May "Rowan" Wasserman. The contents of this site are (c) 2001, 2002 by Conrad Wong and May Wasserman except where stated otherwise. Despite the "children's fantasy" theme of this campaign, this site is not intended for young readership, due to mild language and violence.