Isachar, Where Art Thou?

October 17, 2001

"Where are we?" Simon wondered, staring up at the high ceilings above him.

"Spooned if I know," Lewis replied with more than a touch of annoyance in his voice. "This is my first time down here."

The two squirrels wandered aimlessly through the vast halls of the Pen is Mightier Than the Sword. Their confrontation with Wyvern still engrained vividly in their minds, the duo did not wish to...trouble the elder, so they had taken it upon themselves to explore their new homes.

"We must be in pretty deep," Simon said after a moment, stopping to take a look at his surroundings. "We've been wandering this place for days."

Lewis grunted but did not disagree, but there was something oddly familiar about these halls. He tried to wave his partner to start moving again, but Simon had already plopped himself down on the floor, munching on an acorn quite happily. Lewis sighed and took up a seat next to him.

"We really should keep moving if we want to keep ahead of him," Lewis chided his partner.

"You really think he's still following us?" Simon looked up doubtfully from his acorn.

"I wouldn't put it past the wyrm," Lewis reminded him.

"I think his attention span is too short to be troubled with us," Simon retorted. "He probably forgot all about us."

Lewis grinned at that; Simon definitely had a point. Anyway, who'd go through the trouble of searching an entire Keep just for two vagrant squirrels. But something still didn't seem quite right to him; maybe it was because this particular hallway seemed very familiar, forebodingly so.

For the most part, the two squirrels were right. Wyvern had all but forgotten their existence in his Halls, but the sight of the two tiny creatures seated quite comfortably right outside his office jogged his memory.

"Fee, Fie, Foe, Fum!" Hearing the dragonic howl, both squirrels leaped to their feet. Simon paled as he turned around to see Wyvern staring down quite cruelly at them.

Lewis, on the other hand, responded with something that was becoming far too trademark for them. "Mother forking knife," he whispered.

Wyvern grinned. "I smell the delicious aroma of two Squirrel drumsticks," he said wickedly, drawing his breath in.

"Run for it!" Lewis shouted and broke into a mad sprint. Simon didn't hesitate to follow.

The almost dragon let loose an impressive flame then. How it filled the hall, its blaze hounding the squirrel duo, threatening to engulf them at any second.

"Well, Lewis," Simon panted, glancing back fearfully at the massiver inferno in their wake. "It's been a pleasure working with you."

Lewis stared at his partner doubtfully, even as the flames slowly worked their way closer to the two squirrels. "That sounded very forced," he muttered.

"It was," Simon replied simply.

Before Lewis could respond, a pair of shadowed hands grabbed the duo, and they all disappeared quite spectacularly into the shadows. Lewis yelped in startlement and squirmed free of the hand clutching him. He turned to find Yui Temae smirking at him, Simon still grasped in one hand. Lewis noted that he had passed out. Wuss.

"Don't I at least get a thank you?" Yui smiled, betraying warmth her eyes hid so well. She gently handed Simon over to his partner, who accepted him gratefully.

"Thanks," Lewis replied. Contrary to popular belief, he did express gratitude when someone deserved it. That just didn't seem to happen very often.

"You shouldn't have been so careless about where you take your naps," Yui chided him gently. "Wyvern's office is no place for squirrels, especially ones who've refused to pay his entrance fees."

"We were the only ones he tried to charge," Lewis pointed out.

Yui shrugged and shook her head.

"Dragons and their gold," Lewis grumbled.

Yui's laughter was refreshing, definitely a preference over an angry wyrm's roar. With a wave of her hand, the squirrels found themselves in a small guest room. A single bed and a small bookshelf were its only decorations, and a small table and chair its only occupants.

"Feel free to use this room for as long as you like," Yui said. "Just be careful of roaming wyverns."

"We will," Lewis muttered quite honestly. They'd be steering clear of that particular almost dragon for a long, long time.

Yui stepped back slowly into the shadows but halted just before she faded into them. "Before I forget...," was all she said. She flicked her wrist, and a small envelope flew expertly from her hand and glided gracefully onto the table.

"Just don't expect this to become a habit," Yui smiled and faded back into the darkness.

Some time later, Simon awoke, quite surprised to find himself on a comfortable bed. He was even more surprised to find his fur mostly intact and unburnt. He was not surprised to find Lewis grumbling to himself, reading a piece of paper.

"We've got mail from Liz," he said simply and tossed the paper over to Simon. The sheet floated fitfully in the air for a moment before landing gently on the bed.

Simon sat up and scurried over to the letter. He scanned over its contents and almost groaned.

Isachar was missing.

(To be continued...)

Peredhil · October 17, 2001

Wyvern stood laughing.

The looks on their faces! Classic! The Fire illusion had been so real he'd nearly believed it himself. He'd long felt slightly cheated that he couldn't breath flames. With this illusion, he felt he'd somehow arrived.

And the beauty of it all - Nuncio had paid HIM to be his student in Phantasm magics! Flame breath and geld.

How delicious life was, a bank just waiting to be robbed.

He was still laughing as he turned to came snout to nose with Peredhil.

IT WAS A JOKE! Wyvern started spinning the situation rapidly.

Wyvern had seen that look on Peredhil's face before, but never directed at HIM. The rest of the world saw only the Polite side, but he'd been present in Elder counsels and seen WHY The Elder of Manners imposed such rigid self-restraints.

Peredhil looked at Wyvern and smiled sunnily, while his mouth opened and closed, unable to find words.

This was NOT a good sign.

Wyvern grinned toothily back, trying to include Peredhil in the joke.

"Do you think it's ... Rude to terrify them ... before they have a chance even find their rooms?" Peredhil asked mildly. Too calmly. He didn't seem to be noticing the blood on his hand from where a nail had pierced a tightly clenched fist.

Wyvern nodded vigorously. The blood begin to drip on the floor in slow distraction. *drip*... ... ... ... *drip*

"I trust you'll not abuse the Initiates in the name of humor agai-"

"Absolutely Big P!" Wyvern interrupted hastily, "I not only see your point, I understand completely and I agree implicitely. Keep the sense of humor contained until they have their room. No problem, got it under control."

Wyvern edged past Peredhil into his Office. "Shouldn't you see about their rooms? It would be a Polite thing to do you know. I'd do it but I'm busy with back applications! Elder of Initiates -"

He shut the door firmly. Thank goodness Peredhil didn't like to interrupt!

Now... How was he going to get his geld from those squirrels?

/i]

* * * * *

Peredhil stood looking at the door and finally began laughing softly. Shaking his head, he set off to find the Squirrel Duo and welcome them properly.

He hoped they liked the Mallorn Tree he'd grown for them in the Gardens. Or the sound system he'd wired for the Amphitheater. He'd heard they were skilled announcers.

He still wasn't quite sure why the Legion had been willing to let two of it's star performers come to the Pen, but he was grateful nonetheless.

He'd have to arrange to introduce them to his bodyguards. Squirrels and Guinea Pigs should get along well, even though Guido and Nuncio were each six feet in height.

And further... Deep in thought, he began to wander the Halls.

His Ring, noting his distraction, healed his hand with a silent mineral sigh.

* * * * *

October 18, 2001

Simon stared at the letter dismally, re-reading its contents.

Lewis, Simon,

Hi guys! I hope this letter finds you well. I know how hectic moving can be. I'm sorry I had to cancel last Friday, but I've been having to work overtime lately.

Simon's lips thinned slightly. The reason why she was working so much overtime troubled him.

Just a little friendly advice: Play nice when you're at the Pen. Somehow I doubt they'll be as accepting of your...antics...as Isachar was. He may have been a slacker extraordinaire, but he was a pretty tolerant guy.

Well he certainly couldn't argue that point. Though he'd wished a certain someone would've taken that advice more to heart. He threw a withering glare at Lewis, who lazed on top of the table, casually glancing around the room in which they now found themselves in.

Simon snorted and returned to the letter.

I don't want to be a bother while you're moving in and all, but I was wondering if you've seen Isachar lately? You see, someone checked him out of his asylum, but no one can seem to remember who did it or when it happened. I've already checked his local haunts and even the Legion Halls, but no one's seen him (Lord Kendricke was a little tight lipped over the whole issue, but he seemed to be sleeping better, so I doubt Isachar had stopped by...).

Simon frowned. Isachar had gone AWOL in the past, but never without dropping so much of a hint as to where he might be. Heck, when he did drop out of sight, he revelled in telling his fellow Legionnaires where he'd be while they were stuck on Ager Terra. Dropping off the face of Terra was just too...quiet for Isachar.

I really hate to be a bother, but if you could bring him back here, I'd really appreciate it. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy being totall in charge for once. But I just hate dealing with everything. Isachar may have said many very, very...very stupid things in the past, but he had one excellent point about Ager Terra: It's one big headache.

Please bring him back, so that he can deal with this aggravation.

Yours in Smiles,

Elisabeth Wells

With a heavy sigh, Simon dropped the piece of paper. What on earth had the newbie gotten himself into now...

The squirrel glanced over at his partner, who just seemed to be taking in the sheer peace of the respite they had found themselves in.

"So what do you think we should do?" Simon asked him.

"Do?" Lewis replied lazily. He tossed himself gently onto his back and luxuriated in the calmness of their current quarters.

"About Isachar?" Simon re-iterated.

"Who?" Lewis inquired, only seeming half interested. His eyes were closed and he wore a lazy grin on his face.

"Isachar!" Simon continued. "You know, the newb? The guy who brought us to this Terra? The one who you've constantly despised for the past five months?"

"What about him?" Lewis murmered, stretching his arms and placing them gently behind his reclined head.

"Are we going to look for him?" Simon pressed on, glad to finally be making some headway.

"I don't see why," Lewis muttered simply.

"Well," Simon began, then stopped for a moment, considering how best to sway his partner. "Because he took us in?"

"And threw us out," Lewis retorted gently. Simon opened his mouth, prepared to argue the matter. But he decided against it; no sense in disturbing those skeletons.

"How about because we're two kind and decent squirrels who just can't stand to see a friend disappear into the anals of Terran history without so much as lifting a finger?" Simon ventured, trying a different tactic.

"I'm perfectly content to be kind and decent right where I am," Lewis replied matter-o-factly. "And I'd hardly call Isachar a friend."

"An acquaintance then," Simon countered, still not willing to give up on this line.

"Certainly not by choice," Lewis grumbled, putting the matter to rest.

Simon threw up his hands in frustration. He was about ready to give up. Then, he considered one more possible angle that had been left open.

"How about," Simon asked, crossing his paws. "Because Liz asked us to."

Lewis opened his mouth to respond but said nothing for the longest time. Then he closed it and sat up, propping his chin up one palm. After a few long moments, he stood and nodded dejectedly towards Simon.

"Excellent!" Simon exclaimed, relief evident in his voice. "Then it's settled; we're off to find Isachar!" Simon noted that there was a little too much excitement in his voice, the very presence of which startled him. He didn't actually care for Isachar, did he? No, not even a possibility. He rationalized that where ever Isachar was, he was probably a captive, meaning he'd be terribly, terribly miserable right now. Simon always did delight in Isachar's foul moods.

"What about the Pen?" Lewis questioned.

"Think anyone would miss us?" Simon asked rhetorically. After all, how many people actually knew them.

"I can think of at least one person," Lewis grinned. "Maybe I should stop by and give him a little goodbye present."

Simon glowered at his partner and responded with a firm and emphatic, "No."

Lewis scuffed his foot dejectedly against the table.

"Sure," he said. "Spoil my fun."

(To be continued...)

October 20, 2001

Evening was always late in the Halls of the Pen, but the sun finally set quietly beyond the western ranges, giving way to the moon, which bathed the Pen Halls with its soft opalescence. Two squirrels crept silently through those halls, their shadows dancing with the flickering torchlight.

Simon sighed, traces of sad nostalgia creeping into thoughts. They'd only just managed to acquire a small degree of comfort, and already it was being stripped from them. To his surprise, Lewis placed a hand reassuringly on his shoulder.

"Don't worry," the squirrel said. "We'll be back."

Simon gave his partner a lopsided grin and brushed Lewis' hand off.

"If we ever get out of here at all," Simon laughed. Lewis was being awfully supportive...

"We could always turn back, just kick it in Yui's room."

... That was more like it.

"We'll get out of here," Simon replied. "We've got a newbie to look for."

“I can hardly contain my giddiness,” Lewis snorted.

They trudged on in silence, sticking on a firm course through the weaving corridors. The Halls of the Mighty Pen were by no means massive. In fact, when compared to the Legion Halls, it was almost homely. But to two squirrels footing through its passages, the keep was still daunting. It was a long time before they finally entered the foyer. It was here, that the squirrels broke to make last minute preparations: stuffing self-fashioned little sacks with food raided from the Pen’s dining halls on their way over.

Simon glanced out one of the foyer’s windows. The first beams of the morning sun started to creep over the horizon.

“It’s about time,” Simon muttered and turned to Lewis, who was resting fitfully against his sack.

“You sure we want to do this?” Lewis asked.

“I want to find him,” Simon replied quietly.

“Why?” Lewis asked, genuinely confused. “You know Liz would understand if we said we were too busy, and this place is turning out to be a lot more amusing than I thought it’d be. These creative stiffs aren’t half bad if you give them a little poke.”

“’A little poke’?” Simon repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Or a big one,” Lewis grinned sheepishly. “So sue me.”

Simon opened his mouth, then shut it. He grinned.

“Too easy,” the squirrel said.

“Hey!”

“Look,” Simon interrupted. He gave Lewis a solemn stare, and his partner stopped even trying. “Isachar is out there somewhere.”

Lewis remained silent, indifferent.

“You know something’s wrong with this scene,” Simon continued. “Isachar just doesn’t ‘drop’ silently off the face of Terra.”

”The only way he’d go would be kicking and screaming,” Lewis agreed.

“Exactly,” Simon pressed. “And he’s still out there. I can feel it. I know you can too.”

Lewis opened his mouth to argue, but Simon stared at him hard. Lewis sighed and nodded.

“And I want to look for him,” Simon said at last. Lewis boggled at him. “I didn’t want to admit it either, and it’s not because Liz asked us, or any other ulterior motive I try to rationalize.” Simon sighed. “I’m actually worried about the newb.”

Lewis stared at him as though he were looking at a stranger.

“And you can’t honestly tell me that somewhere in that cocky overbearing, loud-mouthed shell you put up, you don’t feel it too,” Simon finished.

Lewis shook his head vigorously, but Simon was unrelenting. His stare kept digging into him, knowing exactly what to look for. Finally, Lewis sighed.

“You even whisper that to anyone, and I swear I will skin you alive,” Lewis snarled.

Simon smiled and picked up his sack.

"Now come on,” he said. “Let’s get a move on.”

Together, the two squirrels pushed open one of the Pen’s doors, and they quietly slipped out, following the rays of the sun westward.

“So where’d that epiphany come from, anyway?” Lewis asked his partner as they took to the trees.

Simon blinked and frowned.

“I have absolutely no idea…”

(To be continued…)

October 2, 2002

(A long, long time later...)

Skirmishes line the horizon for as long as the eye can see, but Isachar pays not one of them any heed. He ignores his foe's blazing flame, his freezing ice, his searing thunder. Even his last lines collapse before the attacking army's might, Isachar turns from the battle. He grips tightly the scroll in his right hand.

Where has he been? Who knows. Who cares. He certainly doesn't, not anymore. It's all a blur for him now. Guilds that never quite filled the hole the Legion's departure created breeze through his mind as though their tenures meant nothing. In truth, they DID mean a little. His back twitches lightly as he recalls the time they bore angel wings.

Isachar sighs quietly. Still, he's tarried too long. He unrolls the scroll and quietly utters its words. The scroll recalls him to the only place he needs to go. He needs to tie up some loose ends.

He shudders at that thought.

October 2, 2002

In a small non-descript room somewhere in the bowels of the Pen Halls(its owners couldn't tell you where it was, even if they wanted to), two small non-descript squirrels lounge happily in all of their lazy splendor.

"Wow, how long have we been freeloading here now?" Simon wonders aloud, glancing over to his partner and sometimes unwanted compatriot.

"Almost a year now," Lewis replies contentedly.

"Doesn't that feel somehow wrong to you?"

"Nope."

For a time, there is silence as both squirrels settle back down to their mid-afternoon nap. Then Simon again opens his eyes, something in him nagging incessantly that something isn't quite right.

"Weren't we supposed to be doing something important?" he presses.

"Were we?" Lewis responds half-heartedly

Simon stares up at the ceiling for a long time. After a minute or two of reflection, he sits up with a frown. "I'm almost sure we were supposed to be."

Lewis heaves himself up with a sigh. He glances over at Simon, who has shut his eyes in concentration. "Don't burst a vein over it," Lewis warns him. "What's with the sudden guilt trip anyway?"

"It comes unbidden, I promise," Simon mutters, his eyes still shut, his faces now scrunching up with concentration. "It's almost as though some unseen force was looking into my mind and planting thoughts into my head."

"Whatever," Lewis says off-handedly, already lying back down.

The room is quiet for a time, as Lewis leaves his partner to his thoughts. Finally, Simon's eyes snap wide open as the realization suddenly hits him.

" MOTHER FORKING SPORK!" Simon shouts, leaping to his feet. Lewis yelps and jumps up as well.

"Don't ever do that again!" he shouts at his panic-stricken partner. "Now what is it?"

"We forking forgot about Isachar!" he shouts, his face is ghost-white behind his fur, though no one without a magnifying glass could tell you that.

Lewis stares at him for a long time.

"No, we didn't."

Simon rounds on him, wearing a wide-eyed stare. "What?!" he screams, incredulity oozing from every ounce of his being.

Lewis lies back down, unconcerned. "I just said we didn't forget him," he replies non-chalantly. "Or at least, I didn't."

"Then why-"

"There wasn't any need to catch up with him this instant," Lewis says, cutting his partner off. "He was a mage, for crying out loud, he certainly didn't need us taking care of him."

"But...but...," Simon sputters for a minute, everything spilling back to him. "I mean, what about the whole storyline! The mail from Liz, us setting off to find him, you were sporking worried about him!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You sure as hell do!" Simon yells accusingly. "I know you said it!"

"Lies! Lies! All lies!" Lewis screams back, his eyes wide and crazy. "You can't prove ANY of it!"

Simon takes aim with an acorn and fires, hitting Lewis squarely between the eyes. His target yelps in pain and falls flat on his tail, but the moment is gone, the crazy look out of his eyes.

"Thanks."

"...I still know you said it."

"Shut up."

Simon plops down next to Lewis. Lewis glances over at him, but quickly turns

away as their eyes meet. For a long time, all either of them does is stare at the wall. Then, Lewis sighs.

"So I guess we screwed up then," Lewis mutters.

"I guess so," Simon replies quietly.

"What do you think ever happened to Isachar?"

"Dead in a ditch somewhere, probably," Simon says sadly. "The newb wouldn't have lasted two days out on his own."

Both rodents cross themselves and offer a moment of silence to their lost master...

...and cry in surprise as a white light flashes at the center of the room.

The light recedes slowly, and the two squirrels find below them a man clothed in a travel-worn cloak lying prostrate on the floor. He looks thin and weak, his eyes sunken, his lips dry and cracked. For a moment, the two squirrels wonder if this unwelcomed mage is still alive. Then, he stirs.

"Damned recall spells," he coughs.

The two squirrels, recovering at last from their surprise at the arrival of this near corpse, immediately center on the most important matter at hand...

"Hey buddy!" Lewis shouts. "What the butter knifing hell are you doing in our room!"

The man rises unsteadily to one knee and turns to the two squirrels.

"...your room?" the voice is dry and crackling, but it bears the ring of familiarity.

Three sets of eyes meet.

Two pairs widen.

One face glowers.