Root Beer Floats with the Destroyer July 16 (20 Mar 2003) The Mirari gang goes to Foxworthy's, treated by Mr. Cortlynn.

Once Mr. Cortlynn steps out of Harcourt Manor, he seems to calm down again. After Agatha makes it clear that she's neither eager nor willing to see the last of him, he agrees to return to Foxworthy's with her.

They take the horses with them, Mr. Cortlynn doing a tolerable job of riding Destre, and Agatha on a very dusty and heavily disguised Ahearn. All the same, they take a winding route to the ice cream parlor. Neither Agatha nor Mr. Cortlynn is eager to run into Pearl or Mr. Jones again, especially with Ahearn around. The ride is conducted mostly in silence; conversation subdued by Agatha's evident mistrust and Mr. Cortlynn's frustration.

So it is a somewhat irritable and dusty pair that arrives at Foxworthy's. They leave their mounts around the back of the shop, and walk around to enter through the front door. Bells on the door jingle as they enter, the interior cool from the refrigeration on the soda fountain.

Foxworthy's Sweets
The checkerboard tiles of the shop contrast neatly with the chrome of the ice cream soda bar, and the cheerful old-style glass jars with hoppers from which candies of various types can be dispensed into paper bags, then weighed by the tall English fellow who owns the shop. A row of stools stand before the soda bar. Several booths line the far wall, each large enough for four teenagers or six kids to squeeze in on both sides of a table. The posters on the walls are Art Nouveau reproductions. The smell of chocolate vies with the fizz of soda, and there are usually always at least a few kids or teenagers here during the daytime until the proprietor closes at four in the afternoon.

Alice sits snug in the center of the booth nearest the door with Thomas leaning not far away. She had told the young man her concerns over his plan already. Her worries that an attempt to trick John Cortlynn now may harden him to any idea of friendship, or of getting his help to mend the scars caused by the dreamers who came before them. Now she waits and worries with her hands folded in her lap and her legs gently swaying. Worrying for her people, for her friends, and even for her enemies. It seems to her there is entirely too much sadness about this story and she hopes, she dearly hopes, that it can all be changed for the better.

Thomas rubs his neck and sighs. ""This isn't about trust here, Alice. We're dealing with the fate of a world. I'm not going to hand over the book to someone I've never even talked to. I have a few concerns -- namely that the rules never state Lord Eoin has to be the Destroyer. So, why is he? There is no rule saying John Harcourt had to be the bad guy, only that it was the Warlock of the years End," Thomas says grimly and keeps watch over the door from his position against the wall. "I may take risks, but they are calculated. We have to keep several plans in might for various contingencies, is all. If this John is a good person, he'll understand that."

At that moment, the door pushes open, admitting a young red-haired woman and a dark-haired man to the sound of jingling bells. Mr. Foxworthy waves to the newcomers from his position behind the counter.

Tom interlaces his fingers quietly and locks his eyes on the dark-haired man.

At the sight of the trio in the near booth, Agatha nearly trips in surprise. "Oh, hi everyone," she says as she recovers. "This is John Cortlynn," Agatha introduces, wondering if Tom already knows about his grandmother's fainting incident.

Alice gives the newcomers a little wave and a nervous smile. "Hi!" she calls out. "Have a seat, please. Mr. Cortlynn this is Tommy. Tommy, Mr. Cortlynn."

A younger boy, short brown hair cut in a pageboy style, sits on the inside of the booth from Alice, toward the wall, hands folded atop a leather pack. "Lord Eoin is a good person, or at least I don't think he does evil because he wants to, but the Rules..." His statement is cut off by the sound of newcomers. He looks up anxiously.

Tom nods slightly. "Tom," he says in introduction. "And Agatha, we have to have a little chat later."

Agatha forces a grin and offers John first choice of seating at the booth.

"Hello," Mr. Cortlynn says, smiling at Alice's warm welcome. He looks more hesitant at Tom's words, nodding to the boy. "Pleased to make your acquaintance." He glances about the table, not yet taking Alice up on her offer.

"Uh..." Simon searches Mr. Cortlynn's face for recognition. "I'm Simon."

Thomas keeps his eyes locked on the man, expression held neutral. "Please, have a seat. I imagine we all have a great deal to talk about," he says.

The adult offers Simon a pleasant smile, too, offering his hand. But there is no hint of recognition in his brown eyes.

To make room Alice scoots further towards the center of the booth. "Yes, quite a lot to talk about. And very little time," she says in agreement.

Mr. Cortlynn glances again at Tom's face, tilting his head to one side. "All right," he says, after a moment. He sits beside Alice.

Simon shakes the man's hand, his smaller hand dwarfed by John's. He folds his hands quickly over the pack again, looking uneasy.

Having little choice now, since the other bench is full, Agatha sits on Tom's side of the table (but leaves some room between them). "We found some interesting things in John Harcourt's old bedroom," she quietly announces.

"Oh, do tell," Thomas says, his fingers on his right hand tapping against the back of his other hand. "I have a few interesting things to bring up as well, but I can wait."

Sitting between the one adult and an older boy Alice finds herself distinctly dwarfed. She looks between the two people on her side of the bench with curiosity and a hint of uncertainty. And indeed she must look up if she's to look at their face at all.

Cortlynn folds his hands against the table, looking vaguely uneasy. He gives a glance to the soda fountain. "I'm going to get a Coke float," he says. "Anyone else want anything? My treat."

Simon, fiddling with the laces on the pack nervously, looks up at this, brows furrowed questioningly. "Like what? Old socks?" He pauses. "Really old socks?"

"We found the remains of Ariel, for one," Agatha says. "John had dug her up and tried to fix her. And he left one of his journals behind too. Uh... yeah, a Coke is fine for me."

The man stands, looking to the others before moving to the counter.

"Root beer!" Simon suggests, perking up at the offer of a treat.

"Can I have a root beer float too?" asks Alice hopefully. "I'm dreadfully parched, to be sure."

"Perhaps after this whole mess is settled I'll take you up on that offer, John. But, thanks for the offer," Thomas replies with a very slight smile.

After her reply Alice turns back to Agatha and leans forward a little. "You found Ariel? Oh good! We were hoping you would," she enthuses.

Mr. Cortlynn smiles at the enthusiasm of the two younger children. "Sure." He walks away to place the order, then stands by the counter, making small talk with Mr. Foxworthy while the proprietor fixes the drinks.

Once John's back is turned, Agatha whispers to the others, "John Harcourt never realized the reality behind Mirari, he really did think it was a game. He didn't dwell on it or think about revenge or anything, and the only further mention he made was when Bryant asked him about altering a rule about Warlocks that he didn't even write himself."

Simon looks at Alice oddly. "We were?"

"Of course we were, silly," Alice answers.

Tom leans over to Agatha and whispers, "The rules never say the Years End Warlock had to be Lord Eoin. And, the last rule in the book is in John's Harcourt's hand, and it is the one that states the Years End Warlock can never be defeated. So, if the Years End doesn't have to be Lord Eoin, why is he? Think about it."

"It also looks like he did a lot of the work to give Mirari... uh... bones," Agatha adds, faltering for the proper terms. "He did a lot of research on fantasy worlds and Medieval stuff and so on. Even read Shakespeare."

Thomas nods at that and says, "Most of the early rules were all written by John."

"His journal says he didn't write that rule though," Agatha repeats. "Maybe it wrote itself, from the other side."

Simon shakes his head at Alice. "I don't remember that anyone said anything about Ariel, at least not anything important." He settles in to listen to the whispering.

"It's his handwriting," Thomas says again and shrugs. "It's unmistakable. I'm not convinced the rules in the book can re-write themselves."

"Lord Eoin had the book for a while right Tommy?" prompts the little blonde girl. Then she turns Simon and purses her lips before explaining, saying, "Oh, well, maybe just I thought so."

"Do the rules say the Warlock can win though?" Agatha asks.

"The last rule states: 'The Year's End shall never be defeated, and shall always return, until at last he Triumphs.' So, it implies he can," Thomas answers.

"It's also interesting to note there are fifty-two rules, and there have been fifty-two Mirari years, but that may just be coincidence," Tom adds as an afterthought.

"That doesn't make sense," Agatha points out. "If he can never be defeated, then why the bit about always returning until he triumphs? I mean, what else can he return from but being defeated?"

"Temporary retreat isn't a defeat. I imagine they mean defeated utterly," Thomas answers.

"I think it means defeated for good," explains Alice. "We weren't able to stop Lord Eoin from leaving the Palace. He just went poof."

"And by the by, how long have Optikon's been around? Anyone know?" Thomas asks.

Simon points out, "But rule number 25... 26? It says the Year's End will seek the Crown, even though if he succeeds, Mirari will be destroyed. So between those Rules..."

"If he triumphs, Mirari ends, "Thomas says flatly.

"Well, there've been handheld cameras since the turn of the century at least, I think," Agatha says, furrowing her brow in thought. "And there are photos from the Civil War even."

Thomas nods to Agatha and says, "I ask, because there are alterations in the rules. I was hoping to establish when they may have occurred. It would tell us if the book is updating itself."

By now, Mr. Foxworthy has finished with the drinks, and slides them across the counter to Mr. Cortlynn. The young man pays for them, then gathers them, two in each hand and braced together, for the short walk back to the booth.

Tom glances at Agatha and asks quickly, "Quick, what do you make of him?"

"He's... a grown up. The talk about Mirari and his part in it just makes him frustrated though," Agatha whispers. "He doesn't want to be the villain."

"Did you notice that the Rules don't say John or Anastasia? They say Lord Eoin and Lady Angelique," says the little girl. "And maybe that's important. Maybe only their Mirari sides can write the Rules."

"That's just what Lord Eoin told me," Simon whispers insistently. "He's only the bad guy because the Rules make him."

Tom looks in Simon's eyes and says in a low tone, "The rules never say Lord Eoin is the Years End Warlock."

Alice offers, "He doesn't "feel" like Lord Eoin does. But he looks the same if you look hard enough."

Agatha puts on her smile and tries not to look conspiratorial as John comes back to the booth.

Simon looks puzzled. "But who..." He lets his voice trail off and tries to plaster a smile back on for the grown-up.

Mr. Cortlynn sets down the glasses on the table, smiling back at Agatha. "Here, this should be your Coke, and this your root beer, Simon," he says, doling them out. "And a root beer float for you, Alice. I hope I didn't get any of them mixed up."

The man returns to his seat, sipping at his float. A dab of vanilla ice cream gets on his nose.

"Thank you, Mr. Cortlynn," Agatha says to the man, then asks him, "Do you have an ink pen with you?"

Alice, not quite ever able hide her feelings completely, just manages to smile for John and yet still look worried. Sheaccepts her root beer float with a "thank you Mr. Cortlynn" and a bob of her head before she pulls it over closer with both hands. Then her nose wrinkles as a distinct problem makes itself apparent. Tall glasses and short girls do not mix well.

"Thanks! It's very nice of you, Mr. ... Cortlynn," Simon says, recalling at last the name that John gave. He picks a straw up from the dispenser and inserts it into his drink, then starts slurping away. slurrRRRrrp He sighs contentedly. "Boy, it feels like years since I've had one of these!"

"So, Mr. Cortlynn," Thomas says, folding over his hands and resting his chin on the back of them. "Would you be willing to tell me what brought you here? Forgive my, ah, curiosity, but I'm well known for being the questioner. Truth is my trade, after all. And this little mystery is in dire need of some light," he says.

Following Simon's actions Alice considers the straw for a moment and then turns to Simon. "Simon, could you get me a straw please?" she asks him.

"Let me see ... " Cortlynn pats at his jacket pockets, high and low, then retrieves a silver pen from the inside breast pocket. "Here." He offers it to Agatha, then looks to Tom, quirking an eyebrow. "It's a bit complicated, Mr. --?"

"Huh, what? Oh, sure," the younger boy says. He pops a couple straws out of the dispenser and offers them to Alice.

"Excuse me," Agatha says, and leans across Tom to reach the napkin dispenser. After pulling a few napkins out, she sits back again and sees if the pen will write on them.

"Winthrope, but everyone just calls me Tom. Or hey you, or, well, less polite things," Thomas replies with a slight grin. "And complicated or not, I'm curious. So, please?" He then gives Agatha such a look.

Alice accepts the straws with a smile. Carefully she connects two together to make a particularly long straw and uses this for her float. Then she takes her napkin and folds it across her lap. "I call him Tommy," she adds.

"He's Mrs. Smith's grandson," Agatha notes to John, then has a sip of her Coke and goes to work on the napkins, trying to write her own name on one in cursive.

Simon fiddles with the laces on the pack again, between slurping on his root beer.

Cortlynn nods. "Mr. Winthrope," he repeats. "I'm an orphan. My mother was ... never married," he admits, sounding embarrassed. "She died when I was quite young. I don't know who my father was. But I was recently given access to certain of her effects, and, well, to make a long story short, I have reason to suspect that she and John Harcourt may have been involved shortly before his death. He might be my father." He pauses, sipping his float. "So I'm here to ... find out where I came from, I hope."

Thomas nods at that. "So, what have you found out about John Harcourt?" he asks.

Giving up on the napkins as being too flimsy, Agathasnatches Tom's paper place mat since he isn't drinking anything. "Mind if I borrow this? Thanks Tom," she says before the boy can reply.

"And I do apologize for my rather rude friend here. I hope she hasn't given you much grief," Thomas says a few momentsafter Agatha swipes his place mat.

Simon blinks up from where he's been making a cat's cradle with a long strand of leather.

Cortlynn stirs his float, taking a spoonful of ice cream from the top. "More about him as a child than anything else. He seems to have been a complex and not very happy teenager. Mrs. Smith thought him moody and often unpleasant. Yet his younger siblings liked him well enough at one point. Well enough to start this game that ... so it seems ... you and your friends still play, Mr. Winthrope."

"Just so I can show Mr. Kuning that you really came by, could you sign this for me?" Agatha asks John, sliding the Foxworthy's place mat and the silver pen towards the man. "Oh, and add the date and maybe a little 'thanks for showing me the manor' line too?"

"A game I was pulled into, actually," Thomas says with a nod. "It's rather a curious game too, at that. Amazingly potent and intense. I'm unclear on this point, but, are you looking into the game extensively?"

The younger boy slurps on his root beer. "I thought I was the one who was pulled into it," he says with a grin to Thomas.

"Anastasia loved her brother a lot," says Alice between sips of ice-cream rich root beer. "He used to give her gifts. His brother too."

"I was curious about it, when Mrs. Smith spoke of it, yes," Mr. Cortlynn admits, accepting the pen back, and the place mat. He writes, Dear Mr. Kuning: Thank you for allowing Miss Cunningham to show me your beautiful home. I appreciate your generosity and her time. Regards, John Cortlynn. After writing it, he looks up again. "But I'll confess that, at this point, I think I've heard rather enough about it."

"Thank you, Mr. Cortlynn," Agatha says, and looks over the writing while taking another sip of her cola. She makes sure Tommy can see it too, in case he'd recognize the style more readily than she would.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Cortlynn, we have to resolve a few things about the game. I'm sorry if it's unpleasant to hear, but we have to resolve it. Would you be willing to tell me what you know? I'll share what I know afterwards," Thomas says, then glances over at the place mat.

Mr. Cortlynn smiles at Alice, a little sadly. "I got the impression, from his journal, that John Harcourt was very fond of them, too, even if he did not always show it."

Simon gives his root beer glass another look, as if checking it for an invisible string, then apparently decides it's safe, as he sips from it again.

The writing on the place mat is neat and graceful, if informal. It reminds Agatha strongly of John Harcourt's handwritten notes in the margins of books, though it's not as strong or elegant as the calligraphy on his wall.

"But it's much more important than you know Mr. Cortlynn," says Alice. She pauses in her sips to peer up at the man as she finds him looking down at her. "Anastasia, Bryant, and John loved that, ... that game too. And sometimes stories live a long time with their own lives, and they carry on with the people who made them. And the Harcourts live in ours still. As do you."

Noting the similarity, Agatha wishes she had one of those books with her to compare it to directly... and then realizes she never actually read the journal entry that mentioned changing the rule about the Warlock -- John had summarized it out loud for her. "Can I see the rules, Tom? You can have some of my Coke if you want, just don't backwash it."

A greyhound forlornly looks in the window of Foxworthy's Sweets from where he has been leashed to a post in front of the store. He licks his chops.

"What I know, Mr. Winthrope?" John Cortlynn says, quizzically. "About your game? Let me see. I know that it permanently destroyed a young man's relationship with his siblings, in a way that haunted him until his untimely death. I know that his siblings were devastated by the lack of closure in their relationship with him, and ever afterwards regretted the split. I know that two young women treated me with distaste and suspicion from the moment they saw my face, based on this game. I know that a gentle older woman fainted in the streets in the face of relentless speech of this game. I know that I am sitting in an ice cream parlor being grilled by a young man who can barely contain his contempt for me ... because of this game. I would guess. Really, Mr. Winthrope. I don't think I want to know any more."

"The rules are safe at the moment, Agatha. I'll show you in a bit," Thomas answers, then looks tack at John Cortlynn and says, "I don't know you, Mr. Cortlynn, so I wouldn't be so quick to judge on my opinion of you. I'm trying to understand your connection and tie to the game, and how it can all be resolved for the best for everyone. The game, as you put it is more than a game. The imagination and power that your possible father and his siblings had was used to help others. That game lives on. Their legacy created a world, Mr. Cortlynn. One which faces possible destruction because of what may have happened years ago, and perhaps because of your hatred of it now. Wouldn't you want to learn about someone who may be the answer to either save or destroy a world?"

"But it's a chance to right all that," says Alice hopefully to John Cortlynn, " ... and to make amends for the past. I think I understand now why you and Lord Eoin are the same. It's because you're both, um, trapped by an old, sad sentiment that never got helped. All these Rules aren't as important as that one thing. That's what I want to do Mr. Cortlynn. I want to give the story a happy, um, "ending". So the Harcourts can rest in peace, so the world in pleasant again, and even so you can know you helped them too. Because I worry about you Mr. Cortlynn."

John Cortlynn leans back, closing his eyes. He looks, in that moment, surprisingly young and tired. "Tell me what's good about it," he says.

"John, Anastasia, and Bryant loved it once. Agatha said John wrote all about it. I love it too, it's my favorite story for all its faults," answers Alice, heartfelt. "And maybe you can help what your father couldn't, and put him and his brother and sister at peace. If you don't you might never get over it. I won't, if it's not helped, either."

"The people are nice," Agatha offers, although a bit quietly. "The horses can talk. And your father helped to shape it. It's his legacy as much as you are, even if he didn't realize it in either case."

Thomas opens his mouth, then simply says, "They've said what I was going to. What we are hoping for, is to find peace in what they created. I think it's a world you would be proud to see. John Harcourt laid most of it's foundation."

Alice nods to Thomas's words, adding, "It has a lot of their love and joy. And if we don't help it soon it will be all gone."

"Precious little good it did him," Cortlynn says, quietly. He opens his eyes. "What do you want me to do?" He asks the question simply, with neither a promise nor an accusation implicit in the words.

"Do you know what caused the split, Mr. Cortlynn? Would you like to know?" Thomas asks quietly.

"Well," begins the blonde girl as she thinks on it, " .. we need to change the Rules. The Rules say much about the Year's End and his always being the bad guy until he wins. I'm not really sure, not really-super-one-hundred-percent-sure, why Lord Eoin is also the Year's End but I think I kind of know. And I think everyone knows a little why too. So if lord Eoin has to be the bad guy when he doesn't want to be then that has to stop. And he should be forgiven. Um, all the little details I'm not sure of but I do think we may need to Challenge him. Maybe." She glances at Thomas for support.

"Yeah, something like that," Agatha agrees.

Mr. Cortlynn turns his head, blinking, at Alice's recitation. "Do you know, I was hoping for something a bit more straightforward. Such as 'Buy me another root beer float.' Or 'Find Atlantis, kill the world-swallowing serpent, and free the princess.' You know. Concrete." He glances back to Tom. "The split. various things, I imagine. Most of them seemed to be John Harcourt's fault. In the end, it would be breaking the statuette. Hard to believe how the little details of our lives take on such tremendous import, really. I don't believe that was the whole story." He shrugs. "But perhaps it was."

"Well you can't rescue the princess because I'm all ready free," Alice explains with a smile. "And Elinor already rescued me. But, um, maybe we could fix the statuette too? Or you could Mr. Cortlynn? And then we could bring it to Mirari."

"It's broken really bad, Alice," Agatha whispers to the blonde. "I figured maybe Nym could fix it though, or Lord Mel."

"No, it wasn't just the statue, really. It was because of a boy," Thomas replies. "And two girls who were smitten with him. One of those from the other world, who sought to make a reality for his people, came here. He became a boy called Ryan Jordan. I think the full breaking point was that the girls chose him to be the ruler of the new world. Not John Harcourt, whom labored for it's formation. He got angry, because the choice wasn't fair. It was because Anastasia and my Grandmother simply were smitten with him," Thomas replies.

"The statuette? Could I slay a dragon instead? It's in rather bad shape, I'm afraid," Cortlynn answers Alice. "Though isn't there a little fix-it place not far from here?"

"Lord Mel can? Um, Lady Angelique tried to help Lady Ariel but couldn't. Maybe Lord Mel and I could try," says Alice. She reaches in her purse and digs around until she pulls out a black unicorn doll with a blazing red mane. She places him in her lap. "And Kia's Restoration is nearby too, yes Mr. Cortlynn. Oh and the dragons are very big, but not very unfriendly for all that."

"You may need to fix the statue in this world, then perform a ritual in the other, Alice," Thomas says quietly to the little girl.

"You know you're awfully smart Tommy," says the little girl. "That sounds like a very good idea."

Mr. Cortlynn puts his head on his hand, regarding Tom. "No, I don't think that was it," he says, thoughtfully. "At the least, it wasn't the breaking point. John Harcourt still interacted with his siblings after that, according to his journal. They didn't stop speaking until the statuette was broken."

Agatha just stares at Tom after he delivers his revelation about the split. "That... actually makes sense, I suppose."

Simon slurps up the last of his root beer and appears to be giving some thought to the first of Mr. Cortlynn's suggestions, but then gives it up, pushing the glass back. "Maybe he got angry about it, but did he make a Rule about it? They're the ones who decided that he should be the villain forever," he points out to Tom, frowning. "Whose fault is that?"

"I think it was the big starting point, though, Mr. Cortlynn. The resentment grew from there," Thomas replies to the man, then turns to Simon and reminds him, "That there is no rule saying he had to be the villain. I think John Harcourt put himself there and the world wentwith it, to maintain consistency. If we can explain out that, and free what remains of John Harcourt in that world from what is 'The Years End Warlock', I think we can help everyone."

"Um," interrupts Alice, " ... I don't think we should think about who's fault. Everyone did something they regretted, and everyone felt bad for it. I don't think, um ... oh ... revenge is a good thing. I think everyone is a little guilty. We should forgive them and let that be it."

"It was John Harcourt's subconscious wish to be the king, so maybe that's why Lord Eoin became the Warlock," Agatha suggests. "And the bitterness probably played a big part too. But when the statue of Ariel was smashed, the real Ariel was killed."

"Would someone explain this connection between Lord Eoin, John Harcourt, and, ah, this warlock you keep talking about? I feel as though I only understand half this conversation. If that," Mr. Cortlynn remarks mildly.

Thomas nods to Alice and says, "We need to look at The Years End Warlock as a curse of anger, not as John Harcourt. I think that's our problem here. We're looking at them as the same person, when they are, and aren't."

Thomas looks at John and the others and says, "I could try to explain if people permit?"

"Oh! Um. Lord Eoin is who John Harcourt was. Lord Eoin of Jan-" she stops and nods to Thomas. "Okay, you tell it. You're better with that than I am."

Mr. Cortlynn looks relieved when Alice defers to Tom, then looks vaguely guilty over being relieved.

Agatha nods and sips her drink, since she never quite got it all sorted out in her head before either.

Simon scowls at the tangle he's made of the cat's cradle, then starts undoing it. "I don't think he's a curse, I think he's cursed, that's all I'm saying, Tom."

Alice peers at what Simon's doing as she notices his struggle. "Do you need help Simon?" she asks kindly.

The younger boy gives Alice a small smile as he shakes his head. He fiddles with the lace as Tom speaks.

Despite not needing to render her help Alice retains a keen interest in Simon's activity. She hugs her Lord Mel doll and props her head on it as she watches him work.

Thomas nods and says, "Yes. As Alice just said, in the other world, John Harcourt's persona was a man called Lord Eoin of January. He was one of the founders, and early on, close to the others. Now, as you've said here, John didn't realize the other world was actually real. The world was stabilized by a set of rules that John helped write. Unfortunately, those rules didn't make things completely stable, but anyway. I think what happened was that when John got angry over who was selected the ruler, that anger affected his persona in the other world. Cursed him, if you will. And as both sides started growing a bit more resentful toward each other, they all reinforced that curse, making Lord Eoin the bad guy. When John broke the statue in anger, that simply cemented it. It was mistakes made by everyone that puts us where we are today. And what we need to do, is undo those mistakes and shatter the curse that holds Lord Eoin."

"See that's much better," remarks Alice approvingly.

"And this warlock enter into this how? What's this argument you keep having with your young friend here?" Mr. Cortlynn says, bemusedly.

"The warlock is a shadowy figure written in the rules as the ultimate threat to Mirari. What has unfortunately happened, is that currently, Lord Eoin is forced to be this person," Thomas says. "What my friend here keeps forgetting is that there is no rule stating Lord Eoin has to be, so it must've been a collective effort made by everyone, out of anger, that forced him to be."

"We need to undo that," Thomas says with finality, "Soon."

"But... If the Year's End isn't really Lord Eoin, who is he?" asks Simon, looking confused.

"Think of the Years End itself as the curse, Simon," Thomas says. "We have to defeat the curse, not the man."

"Well, it doesn't really matter, though, does it? If this Lord Eoin has to be your villain or not. If your pretend world has to have this ultimate threat no matter what, does it help if it doesn't have to be this one man? It still has to be someone," Mr. Cortlynn points out. "You'd still have a villain. Just a different one."

Thomas shakes his head. "Not if we change the rules so the thread can be defeated and no longer exists, Mr. Cortlynn."

"So if this is your game, why don't you just write out your villain if you're tired of him?" the man asks.

"We have to undo the last rule in the rulebook, basically," Thomas replies. "And we can't without challenging him. Without challenging you. Your anger at the game's affect on your father has put you in that role now."

"Bryant and the others couldn't do it before, though," Agatha says. "In John Harcourt's journal, they came to ask him to rewrite the rule. So for the Rule to be changed, you need to play a part in changing it, Mr. Cortlynn."

Tom nods to Agatha, "Just so."

"Even writing Rules has rules. They're the very first Rules in the book. And to change someone's Rule means you have to Challenge that person," adds Alice.

"Oh, really?" John Cortlynn folds his arms across his chest. "And here I thought you lot were the ones painting me out as the villain."

JINGLE The front door opens, and a girl in ponytails, a bright pink shirt and grass-stained blue jeans holds it open while a boy with a shuffling gait follows.

"Look, I hate to be pushy, but when we left Mirari it was under siege," Agatha says, "so maybe we could continue this over there?" Her voice tapers off when the door opens though, not wanting to draw more attention.

"Not exactly," Thomas says, shaking his head. "The world adjusts itself based on your beliefs, too some extent, if it fits within the structure. Your pain, became his. You became him and awoke him. It's not intentional, but it happened. Each of us here has had unexpected effects on the world. We just need to fix that and unmake you as the villain, so to speak."

Thomas smiles to the man and says quietly, "All we are asking is for you to help us bring peace to your father's legacy. Will you help us?"

Alice frowns at this. "Well, we were kind of confused. It is very confusing, to be sure. When we first met you Mr. Cortlynn we weren't sure just how or who you were. Now we know better. And what I said I mean." She unfolds her hands from around her doll and places one of them on John's hand empathetically. "I am very sorry I thought you were the villain Mr. Cortlynn. And I apologize."

"Ah, of course, and you have to damn me before you can save me, I suppose." Mr. Cortlynn smiles, faintly. He leans forward. "And you need to Challenge me, is that it?" He lays a hand on the table. "Fine, then. Issue your Challenge. I'm waiting." His brown eyes look darker as a he speaks, and there is less of the largely affable young man Agatha spent the afternoon with.

Thomas looks to Agatha and the others, then says, "I agree with Agatha on going back to Mirari. We should move the challenge to Mirari; we have to face the Warlock directly, the cursed Lord Eoin."

"Yes I think so too," agrees Alice. "And we should go quickly."

Agatha waves and smiles to Sabrina and Maximillan Winters, surprised to see them.

The ponytailed girl skips on by. "Oh! Hiiiiii!" She heads up to the counter, and opens her hand to drop a handful of coins to clatter against the marble. "Two root beer floats, please!" A bespectacled boy with leg braces and a walking stick follows after her, only giving a short nod to the gathering, and a "Good afternoon."

Simon shivers, letting the long end of the lace fall as he sees the change in Mr. Cortlynn's face. He whispers to Alice, "I've got a bad feeling about this."

The younger boy glances to the Winters without apparent recognition, only curiosity, and then back to the others.

Thomas gets an idea. "Hey, why don't we ask Max and Sabrina to get the statue fixed while we face the challenge to change the rule. If we win, we can then try to bring back Ariel," he says.

Standing up, Agatha says, "I'll go get the pieces," and quickly heads out the door, having left the handkerchief-wrapped bundle with Ahearn. "Hi Kuon, I'll get you an ice-cream cone next time, I promise," she tells the greyhound outside as she runs to where the horses are.

Alice's nose wrinkles and she nods a little to Simon's whisper. Leaning back she tells him also in a whisper, "So do I. But I'm ... I'm ready. I think. I always wanted to help my kingdom and now, well, now this is it. I think though that Mr. Cortlynn and Lord Eoin might, um, be the same just as we are there. Be careful Simon." She gives the newcomers a friendly wave.

Mr. Cortlynn leans back again, as the kids discuss returning to Mirari. "But I only just got to Ainigton. I think I'd just as soon stay here a while," he remarks, sounding pleasant and ordinary again.

"We can return afterward, Mr. Cortlynn. We have to challenge the author of the rule, who is Lord Eoin; your counterpart in the other world," Thomas says. "We have to break him free of that which binds him."

Maximillan finally makes his way to another booth, and sits down, moving along the bench and resting his walking cane against it, while Sabrina brings the floats, and sits down beside him. She talks excitedly to Maximillan, while her brother seems more content to just listen and work on his float.

"Perhaps we could even ask Max to be our arbitrator. He would be impartial during the contest, I'm certain," Thomas says with a glance toward Max.

"Who is he?" asks the blonde girl curiously.

"No. You, perhaps, have to do these things. Your game. Nothing to do with me, Mr. Winthrope. I like it here." Mr. Cortlynn stands, with a smile.

With a jingle of the door chimes, Agatha returns with a small cloth-wrapped bundle held carefully in her hands. She spots the Winters' booth, and walks over to it. "Hi there, Maximillan! Ummm, could take a look at something for me?" she asks the boy, making sure to smile the whole time.

"What are you afraid of, Mr. Cortlynn?" Thomas asks, eyeing the man.

"I think the last Rule isn't the right one to change," Simon whispers to Alice. "We should change the Rule that defines the Year's End. Year's End doesn't have to mean someone or something bad."

Sabrina giggles, and whispers loudly to her brother, "See? I told you she likes you! Well, what are you waiting for? See what it is!"

"Don't you want to help save what your father built?" Thomas asks.

"Well I think we should change a few Rules Simon. But the first one should be whatever binds Lord Eoin to be bad. Then maybe he'll help us change the other Rules instead of fighting us," whispers Alice. She adds, "So I guess I do agree! We ought to look at the Rules again before the Challenges are made."

Maximillan coughs, covering his mouth, then sets his spoon aside, on his napkin, and looks up. "Hello. It's good to see you again. ... What is this?"

Fighting a sudden urge to blush at Sabrina's comment, Agatha carefully sets the bundle on the table an unwraps it. "It's... pretty old and busted up," she explains, revealing the shattered porcelain pegasus statuette. "But you're good with making things and all, so can you tell me if this could be repaired?"

"Oh," Sabrina says, looking distinctly disappointed. "Awwwwww!" she then says, once she realizes just what it is. "That's terrible! You can fix it, can't you, Maxie?"

"Many things, Mr. Winthrope. Death, pain, you know, the usual," Mr. Cortlynn says. "As for your game: you've yet to say how or what you want me to do. I think I should like to enjoy a conversation founded in reality now, just for a change of pace. Sinking further into a mire of make-believe hasn't been much fun so far."

Maximillan cringes at Sabrina's address. He puts a finger on the corner of the cloth that holds the statuette pieces, and draws it closer to himself, as he reaches up with his other hand and pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "It looks like there's a piece missing," he half-murmurs.

"Yeah," Agatha says, and sits down next to the boy so she doesn't seem to be hovering over him. "Could it be replaced though?" she asks.

"Don't make the same mistake your father made and regretted, as you've said here today. Here's a chance to bring closure to his life, and keep part of him alive forever; the good part. We aren't saying we want to kill you, we have to simply challenge your Mirari self, and undo the last rule Lord Eoin wrote. A challenge doesn't have to involve death. With that rule gone, we can stop the warlock, and save Lord Eoin, your father's memory. Please, help us, Mr. Cortlynn. Cross the threshold with us," Thomas says, standing now as well.

Maximillan fidgets somewhat, adjusting his glasses again. "Well ... anything can be fixed, technically speaking. It's just that with some things, it's easier to just get something new. But ... I suppose ... maybe with some clay or something, you could make a replacement piece. I mean, look, it's not like the head was missing or a hoof or anything. I just don't have that kind of ..." He looks thoughtful for a moment.

Alice scoots off the bench and stands. She holds Lord Mel under one arm while she waves Simon to follow with the other. "Simon," she asks quietly, " ... do you feel sorry for Lord Eoin because you understand him really well? He's picked on, and it's not really fair. And you get picked on too, and that's not fair either."

Sabrina slurps on her root beer float, while watching Agatha and Maximillan.

"Time?" Agatha prompts. "If it's a special clay, maybe I can find it. Or... uh... grind up some other porcelain and make new clay? Is that possible?" she asks, trying to keep an eye on the other booth as well.

"If you have something to say to me, Mr. Winthrope, you can say it here. I am not going to who-knows-where with you in order to become even further entangled in your game. Perhaps some other day. This has been ... rather a long one." Mr. Cortlynn adjusts his jacket on his shoulders, preparing to leave.

Simon follows Alice, looking a bit mystified until she speaks. "Well, yeah!" he whispers back.

"Well, there are lots of things we could use," Maximillan ventures. "I mean, I've seen Uncle John use wood putty before. And I suppose you could just as easily use a bunch of that to fill a gap. If you painted it up again, you could hide all the cracks, and it wouldn't matter that you'd made a new piece."

Alice smiles at Simon. "I thought so," she says quietly. "I wasn't sure why you'd help Lord Eoin till I thought about it. So, I just wanted to say that I forgive you, too. Even though we were on different sides we both really wanted the same thing."

"Is it something you could do yourself then, Max?" Agatha asks, sounding hopeful. After all, there has to be some of the Mirari magic in the Winters, since Pelles and Bragwaine showed up there...

Simon blinks, and then smiles a bit. "Well... Thanks! I didn't think you'd thought I'd turned into some kind of bone-chewing goblin or something, but it's good to know you really don't think that."

"You're afraid of me, aren't you, Lord Eoin? You know I can beat you at a real and proper challenge and you won't dare risk it. You know I've finally caught you," Thomas says, shifting his tone more to that of the Lord Explorer and brining himself to his full height.

"Yes," Maximillan says, "I think it's possible. I can't promise it'll look as good as new, but ... I can do my best. I'll ask Uncle John if I can use his wood putty and tools...."

Sabrina smiles. "I knew he could! Is this your winged horsie, then? Did you play with it? It's cute. I mean, you know, if it weren't broken."

"Oh no," says Alice with a giggle, " ... not a bone-chewing goblin! Maybe a dark knight. Or a dark squire. You know, spooooooky-like. I was really upset when you said all that stuff about her Majesty, but I think you were just worried for your friend and it made you angry. Just like when I was mean to Mr. Cortlynn. So, um, yep! A forgive you. Maybe some day you can meet her Majesty and see how nice she is. And I can make sure she doesn't have you arrested. I kind-of sort-of told the court to do that, but I was worried about you and her Majesty too."

"That'd be great, Max!" Agatha says, and almost hugs him... but restrains herself at the last moment. No sense embarrassing him in front of Sabrina! "I'll owe you big if you can do it," she offers instead.

Mr. Cortlynn blinks a few times at Tom. Then he laughs. "Of course that's it. I'm absolutely terrified." He reaches out to pat Tom's shoulder. "Good day, Mr. Winthrope. Thank you for the tour, Miss Cunningham." He turns and leaves, waving to Alice and Simon.

"Umm, it belongs to someone special is all, Sabrina," Agatha answers the pig-tailed girl.

"Gee, thanks," Simon says with a half-grin. His ears would twitch if they were prehensile, but as they aren't, he turns to look back at Thomas addressing Mr. Cortlynn, then the grown-up's calm answer. "What did I miss?" he whispers to Alice.

"S-sure," Maximillan says. "I'll give you a call later, I guess. When I'm done."

Sabrina nods. "Is it a he or a she?" she asks Agatha, in a stage-whisper.

Thomas lets out a snort. He says simply, "Coward."

"Hey," says Alice as she waves back confusedly. "Is Mr. Cortlynn leaving Simon? What happened? Um, we better go get him. lets go!" And thus the little girl takes Simon's hand and drags him after the adult.

"Great!" Agatha says, suddenly distracted by John's departure. "Uhh, it's a she... her name is Ariel," she whispers to Sabrina.

Simon resists. "Are you out of your mind?" he retorts. "If he's really Lord Eoin, I'm not going to stop him, and if he's really Mr. Cortlynn, I'm not going to stop him either!"

If Mr. Cortlynn hears Tom's parting shot, he shows no sign of it. The bells on the door jingle as it closes behind him.

"That's a pretty name!" Sabrina says, approvingly, but then she follows Agatha's look to see the others leaving. "Is something wrong?" she asks, looking out of place suddenly.

"Oh phooey," says Alice as lets his hand go. "I'll go stop him. And you better rescue me if I can't!" And with that the blonde continues after the adult.

"My friend left before I could ask him something," Agatha says, smiling apologetically. "I'd better go after him," she says, and slides out of the booth.

Thomas shakes his head and mutters, "Girls. Come on, Simon. I promised to look after her." With narrowed eyes, he follows Alice.

Simon groans, "Angels rush in where fools fear to tread."

Sabrina pipes up, "Well, if everybody's gone, you can come sit with us!"

"I'll try to make it back then!" Agatha promises Sabrina, takes a final swig of her Coke, and runs out the door after the others.

The younger boy hurries after Alice and Thomas, throwing a look to the latter. "What did you do?"

Thomas follows, expression grim and intense. "I think I struck a nerve. He won't cross over so we can challenge the cursed Lord Eoin and re-write the rule. If he doesn't, I don't think we can save Lord Eoin, or anyone else," he replies grimly.

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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.