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THE FOOLS ROUTE

THE ARCANA: fanfic 3,503 words

Chapter 1

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At first, it was an indescribable nothingness. And then, it was everything. I'm drowning.

When did I get here?

How did I get here?

Why am I here?

I'm pushed around like I'm oil in a machine, but what am I fueling? The churning fluid weighs down my bones. Exhaustion. I try to open my eyes, and I am rewarded with nothing but stinging lingering pain.

" I'm like a fly. " I think to myself.

" A fly that fell in an inkwell. " I give up struggling, I'm going to wake up anyway.

" I'm never falling asleep on the bus again."

I sink with burning lungs. The fire breathes untamed in my body, licking through limbs and fingers.

Wake up

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I observe my surroundings blindly. The bus is no longer in motion. I don't hear humming or the rattling of the windows. I'm laying down but I don't feel the stiff seats of my school bus. Instead, I'm very warm, and face down in something gritty.

Wake up

First, Sound returns to my ears. Shrieking seagulls greet me first, then lapping waves and distant creaking. Second, my sight. The light blinds me, the stinging is worse now. My eyes water and my mouth tastes of copper. My bones feel like lead, weighing me down.

Wake up

The white light dissipates into a dirty yellow. Sand.

" OK, one thing at a time. "

I lift myself to my knees to get a better look around. My backpack, slung around my shoulder, falls to the sand making a dull loose thud. I brush the sand off my arms and torso. I'm on a neglected beach, ruined wooden buildings lie in front of me on a raised cobblestone platform. Might as well explore, who knows when I'll wake up.

My dirty shoes squeak on the slick cobble, echoing off the empty buildings. The streets are dirty, filled with barrels, planks, distant conversations, and empty bottles. The street is divided, the middle has a water canal, likely for boats. Then the sidewalk is planks and cobblestone. As neat as it is, it's honestly depressing here. I hum to occupy myself, but it doesn't distract the fact that I'm being followed. At least, I think I'm being followed. I feel eyes on me, I don't feel alone. I don't feel safe. I quicken my steps, I feel my heart pounding, I need to wake up already.

" Come on dream, what's the worst you have for me? Giant spiders? "

Immediately, I am answered. A loud crash startles me, it was close. An alleyway I passed was the source of the sound. I backtrack and peek around the corner to see the greatest creature in all existence. A cat. It was puffed up and hissing, it looked like a plank fell and scared the poor thing. I sit on the ground, so as to not scare it further. He's a black and white short hair, majority white with a black back. The last 3rd of his tail is black, As is the right side of his face. He's a chonky boy.

" Are you who was following me? "

I stench out my hand and wiggled my fingers to hopefully catch his attention. Thankfully, I did. He cautiously tip-toed toward me to smell my hand. However, instead of smelling me, he skips my hand completely and flops in front of me. He wants attention.

" Aww, I'm keeping you. No arguments. "

I pick him up.

" You're a chunky boy aren't you, you weigh 1,000 pounds. "

He blinks owlishly at me, not really caring what I have to say. Now bored of me holding him, he climbs to sit on the top of my backpack, resting his front paws on my head. He purrs contentedly, definitely proud of his new perch.

Wood blurs into stone and marble, beautiful towers and spires compete with stained glass and bells. The roads are clean and filled with people swaddled in silk, fine fabrics, and jewels that catch the light perfectly. I feel out of place. My hair is up in a messy bun, my glasses are crooked, I'm wearing my dirty signature gray hoodie, busted up red shoes, and my tie dye backpack. The passerbys glance at me as I pass by, the mystery cat seems to enjoy the attention however. I was his throne and the people were his subjects. He kneads my head, catching some of my hair in his claws.

" You know what mystery cat, you need a name. A nice name. "

He chuffed in acknowledgement, at least I think he did.

" How about Candlewick? I like it. What about you? The end of your tail looks like a burned wick "

Candlewick shows no signs of protest.

" Perfect, Candlewick it is! "

I didn't even realize I had walked into some sort of market, I had been walking around subconsciously. Stores and carts filled to the brim with products owned by barking vendors. The street is narrow, it looks like everything is sold here. I see a stall filled with jams and preserves that catch the light, causing a light glow. And a tent with candles, some of them are long and thin. Some are short and some have flowers in the wax. The light scents perfumed the air with smells of sandalwood and of sweet vanilla. I don't want a candle, I want something to eat. Candlewick seems to have the same idea because he jumps off my bag and trots to a nearby fish stand.

The man working the stand is butterflying fish and putting them into a barrel of salt. Preservation. Small dried fish are loosely wrapped in wax paper, Candlewick is sitting on the counter looking at me, he's hungry too.

" How much for 2 of these dried fish ? "

" 5 coins each. "

Coins?

" I'm sorry, I don't have any change. I have 10 dollars though. "

I pull out my wallet and take out a 10$ bill. As I hand it to him, he makes a sour face.

" That's not money, come back when you have something real. "

A pit forms in my stomach. That's funny, this usually works.

" But, I'm dreaming. You shouldn't care about what currency I have. It- it's money. "

Now the man looks upset. The pit in my stomach grows, filling me with dread.

" Oh um, alright. I'll go. "

I feel confused, I don't understand. My dreams aren't like this. I lucid dream, so "realistic details" don't faze me. But this? This is a first. I completely forgot about Candlewick wanting food too, he seems to have grown tired of me waiting because he takes a fish from the paper and runs I to the crowd.

" Candlewick stop! That's stealing! "

I apologize profusely about the fish, the vender yells at me to get it back or he will report me for stealing.

I weave between pedestrians chasing Wick. I can't believe it, I'm a criminal now. Great.

People blur into colors in my peripheral vision. Candlewick skids around the corner to the right, I didn't even see the person walk out in front of me. We collide with a great force, sparking my headache from earlier. He drops a small bag of what seems to be roots of some sort, spilling them everywhere.

" I'm so sorry, let me help you. I should have been watching where I was running. "

I drop to the ground to help with the mess, he grabs my hand to stop me. The man has fluffy white hair, like a cloud. He's wearing a colorful traveler's cloak.

" Don't worry about it. It was an accident. "

A slick purple snake glides out from the inside of the stranger's sleeve, bobbing it's head. It startles me at first, but it must be a kind snake to be kept in a sleeve like it is. The snake tilts its head, assessing me. Must have taken a liking to me, because it stretches out from the man and gets real close to my face.

" Friend? "

My jaw drops in astonishment. Did this snake just speak to me? That's impossible. Snakes don't talk, right?

" The snake just spoke. To me. Right now. "

He smiles in amusement.

" She must like you alot to have spoke to you. "

" Snakes don't talk where I'm from. "

He starts picking up the mess, I hastily begin to help.

" Where are you from? "

" Excuse me? "

He gestures loosely to my clothes.

" I've been all around and I've never seen anyone dress quite like that. "

" I don't - "

I pause.

" I don't know anymore. I thought I was dreaming, but now I'm not sure. This all feels too real to be a dream. "

He looks at me puzzled, but he doesn't ask any more questions. I don't like the silence.

" What are the root things for? "

" Well, I am conducting an investigation on behalf of the Countess. And I need ingredients, hence the roots. "

Countess?

" Can I meet her? I have some questions, I don't know where I am. "

They smile, and I swear the snake did too

"You're in Vesuvia, first time here? "

" I guess it is. " I try to avoid eye contact.

" I'm not sure if I can help you meet the Countess. but if you want, I can answer your questions. "

I give them the rest of the roots and smile.

" That would help a lot. "

He smiles back.

" My name is Asra. "

" My name is - "

*Crash*

I turn around to see 2 large men in armor standing over a large broken crate, a woman is scolding them.

" How dare you break that, do you have any idea how much money was that worth? "

The poor guards look a little uncomfortable now. They raise their hands in defense.

" We are just trying to find a fugitive, the broken crate was purely an accident. "

The vendor doesn't look any happier.

" You break it, you buy it. "

Are they here for me? I'd really rather not find out.

I stand up quickly, almost falling over. I apologize to Asra and then I book it. I turn into the alleyway that Candlewick darted into, but I don't see him. I keep running. I lose track of how many buildings I dart between, my lungs are on fire. I stop and lean against a brick wall to take a breath. Panting, I look up to see Candlewick licking his lips.

" You do realize I'm an accomplice to a thief now right? I'm going to have guards after me, I'm a fugitive! And you don't care, because you are a cat. "

Candlewick indeed, does not seem to care.

" Jerk. "

We walk to less populated streets till only a few drunks remain. The buildings are old but still well loved from the looks of it. Some windows have flower beds. Some windows glow, hinting to the life inside. But the thing I notice the most is the smell of food, my stomach growls and feels tight. I'm still hungry. Candlewick rushes from my side to a smaller building to the left of me. The stained glass windows glow orange and faint laughter rings from the inside. The hanging sign reads, The Rowdy Raven.

Wick sits in front of the door, looking at me.

" Don't stare into my soul like that. Ok we can go inside. "

I am engulfed in warmth as I walk in. It smells of alcohol, fruit, and stew. All walks of life are here, I see people in silks and rags, and a few with scars and eyepatches. I see tall people, short people, skinny people, and some built like brick walls. They all seem so familiar with each other. They're playing poker, card games, drinking, dancing, and sharing stories. Like a large strange family, kinda like mine. Candlewick makes himself at home in front of a fireplace, rolling on the rug. I occupy a booth to the left side of the bar. Wooden round tables are placed haphazardly to the right most side of the building, the bar is in the back. Strings of bells line support beams in the ceiling. I won't lie, it's pretty homey here.

I take this time to reflect on what has happened. I woke up on a beach, found a cat, became a fugitive, and found somewhere to stay warm. But most of all, I'm not dreaming. I think this is real. I'm not home, and I dont think I'm in the past.

*Pick*

*Pick*

*Pick*

I pick at my fingers and nails, a nervous habit of mine. The pain is dulled from years tearing and picking. I never know when to stop, but my fingers are usually left raw and bloody.

As I think about my situation, I must have been spacing out because I didn't realize a man was trying to get my attention.

" Er, hello? Excuse me. I don't mean to be a bother, but your hands are bleeding. "

He has to bend over to talk to me, he's very tall and lanky. A " bean pole " if you will. He has curly auburn hair hiding an eyepatch on his left eye. He looks very sleep deprived, yet he has a distinguished look about him.

" Your um, hands? "

He points at the blood beading from my fingers, I didn't even feel it till he said something. The pain stings, but only a bit. I'm used to it now.

He slides into the seat across from me, his long legs struggling to get comfortable.

" I'm a doctor. " He begins. " Well, ex doctor. But still just as good. May I look at your hands? "

" Ex doctor huh? " I give him my hands for inspection. " Were you fired? "

He flips my hands over a few times and has me flex my fingers.

" I'd um, rather not say. How long have you been picking at your fingers? Your cuticles are in terrible condition. "

I look around the room, the crowd has calmed down a bit. I hear someone a few tables away playing a violin, just out of my view.

" Since I was at least 3 or 4, a terrible habit really.

"

" And how old are you now? "

The violin fills the room with a calming atmosphere. People are slow dancing, but most people are drinking now.

" 17. "

" Huh. "

" What? " I look back at him now.

" Well, you look a few years younger. I mean no offense of course. "

" None taken. I'm a pretty small person. "

Candlewick trots over and jumps on the table, demanding attention.

" Is this handsome little fellow a friend of yours? "

Wick lays on my arms, trapping them on the cold table.

" Yep, this is Candlewick. Because of him, I am now a criminal. He stole something and I don't have money to pay it back because money is weird here. "

" What were you trying to use? The money, I mean. "

I sigh.

" A 10 dollar bill. My money doesn't exist here, I dont think I'm supposed to exist here either. "

He raises a thick brown at me.

" Not supposed to exist? "

Maybe I shouldn't have brought that up.

" I dunno, it's weird. One second I'm on a bus going to school, then I'm on some beach in some city named Vesuvia. Money's weird, snakes talk, almost everyone looks incredibly rich and - "

He interrupts me hastily.

" Talking snakes? "

He looks almost concerned.

" I just told you that I'm from a different world and you are more worried about a snake? But yes, a snake spoke to me. Is that not normal? "

" Well - "

He pauses.

" Not typically. Was the snake with anyone ? "

I recall the poofy white hair.

" She was with someone named Asra, I met him in the market. "

" Asra? "

He recalls the name with such familiarity.

" Do you know them? "

He looks somber.

" I used to. It's been so long now. "

Old friends I guess.

Dropping his frown he grabs my attention.

" You know - "

He scoots a little closer.

" I never told you my name. "

He straightens himself and readjusts his blouse.

" Dr. Julian Devorak at your disposal. "

Julian stretches his hand out toward me. I weasel my hand from under Candlewick and take hold.

" Call me Leigh. Just Leigh. "

We firmly shake hands.

" Well "Just Leigh" from another existence, do you have somewhere to stay tonight. "

" Nope, I didn't really plan this far ahead. I originally thought I would have woken up by now. "

Julian begins to speak but is cut off by a frazzled drunk.

" Th-the guards are coming! "

The bar immediately flew into chaos, over half of the people there were freaking out and trying to hide.

" Oop, that's our call, we have to go. "

I fasten my backpack and grab Candlewick, he squeaks in protest. Julian grabs hold of my shoulder and pushes me in front of him, leading me to a back door.

" Why are we running away? "

He glances back to the front of the bar.

" Not all of us are not exactly favored by the law. "

I didn't realize how dark it had gotten while I was Inside. The sun no longer hung in the sky, I'm pushed into a cold alley littered with boxes and led elsewhere. Julian leads me around in a very specific manner, a pre-planned path. Is he on the run? We walk for a while before anything is said.

" So, what is a bus? "

" Well. "I begin.

" It's kinda like a long yellow carriage that usually transports students to school for free. But your parents need to sign you up first. "

" A yellow carriage? I don't know, isn't that - "

He pauses.

" Tacky? "

We walk into a garden, meticulously tended to.

A small house lies in the middle. Julian strides straight to the door as if he owns the place. He opens the door and greets in a sing-song voice.

" Hello? "

He holds out the " O " for a few seconds. No answer. It's a small quaint house, short ceiling. Colored bottles line shelves, plants are hung to dry, it's really nice here. Julian seems right at home, he starts rummaging through cabinets and checking bottles.

" Is this your house? "

He opens a bottle and sniffs it.

" It is not, but I know who lives here. "

I still don't understand why he trusts me, I could have lied about everything.

" Why did you believe me? "

He stops, then puts down the bottle without closing it.

" Because I have a good feeling about you. And you certainly don't act like you are from here, too many things lean toward the fact that you aren't lying. "

I guess that makes some sense. I drop Wick and set my bag on the table. I sit on an overstuffed couch as Julian grabs a small glass cup. A small woman busts through the door, pointing a wooden spoon at Julian.

" Ilya, you better not be in my good whisky! "

" Malzinka darling, me in your whisky? Perish the thought. "

She smiles.

" Then why is it open on the counter, hmm? "

She hasn't seen me yet, will she be upset that I am here? I didn't exactly ask to visit.

Julian shamefully puts the cork back in the bottle.

" Ilya? Is Julian not your real name? "

All eyes on me now, I shouldn't have said anything.

" Hello. " I wave awkwardly.

" I'm Leigh, sorry for the intrusion. "

Mazelinkas eyes soften, but only for a second. She marches over to Julian and pinches his ear, pulling him to her eye level.

" You bring a guest into my house and don't tell me? Have you even fed her yet? No, you were too occupied with the alcohol. "

Julian is a sputtering mess, I chuckle. They are definitely family. She turns him loose and points to a small room, closed in by a curtain. He slinks away defeated, rubbing his ear.

She pulls something from the ceiling, something that was drying. Mazelinka gently grabs my hand and leads me to the middle of the room. She kicks a rug to the side revealing a trap door.

" It's very late, you can sleep there for the night if you need. "

She slips dried meat into my hand and opens the door, leading me to the bottom.

It's a small room filled to the brim with quilts and pillows, like a secret little nest. Candlewick follows me down.

" I'll leave the door open a smidgen for some light. If you need something, ask. "

I relax my body into the pillows and cocoon myself in a few blankets. I'm particularly excited about the jerky though, I still haven't eaten. It's tough, but savory. Peppered.

I can't believe I'm here, Vesuvia. In a cellar. Strange place. I start thinking of home, and if I'll see it again. I start to pick my fingers again, but I stop. I hold my hands to the sliver of light, casting a shadow on my face. There is no pain, no stinging. My fingers are healed. Did Julian do this? Candlewick crawls on my chest and layes down quite lazily. I hold him, grounding myself.