The First Steps Away From Home

[Ludo Maypop]

Dearest Reader,



I preface this tale with a question. Where does a story begin?

Is it simply a matter of winding back time to the very start of it all - to the moment in which our Hero first meets the world? Naked, blameless, and crying to be heard for the first time? Or, perhaps the beginning is found in the embers of a tragedy? A crucible of past pains from which they burn, only to be poured, shaped, and molded into what they are meant to be? You might even be inclined to consider whether our Hero is expected by portent or prophecy? Are they the answer to a question asked before they were even born to hear it?

Perhaps.

If you will permit this author to be so bold, however, none of these are beginnings which are worth putting quill to paper. Are we not all born, and by the time we are in the grave, haven't we been no strangers to cruel misfortune? As for prophecy? Huddled in the dark, it looks awfully similar to delusion, doesn't it?

However, I have a feeling that you are a clever reader indeed. You found this humble author's manuscript, which clearly indicates you are a gentle-saer of both taste and wit. With that said, you have undoubtedly noticed that I have already given you the answer to this little onion, haven't I?

Where does a story begin? At the Beginning, of course!

Where is that, you might ask? Well, the thing about Heroes, is that they are just like you and me, until one day they decide to take a first step. And then another. And another. On, and on, and on, and on and on and on some more. Until one day, they pause to look back, and realize how impossibly far they have traveled, and how heavy the mark they've left upon Creation truly weighs.

Only then, Dearest Reader, do you have a Story. When the End can at last glimpse the Beginning, and be amazed by truly how far they've come.

Now, I invite you to continue forth into a truly splendiferous story that was originally passed to me in a Calimshite parlor, during a game of Three-Dragon Ante (with three dragons, no less - though that is a tale for another day). You might find certain events within to be outlandish, and possibly bordering on the absurd! As I leave you to the tale and cease my monologuing, I will leave you with two important things to consider, should the events within incite your skepticism:

1. My source's integrity is most assuredly unimpeachable, and my integrity is as such that I should not reveal their identity in my florid prose.

2. There are no refunds on manuscripts.



Sincerely,

Volothamp Geddarm

[Ludo Maypop]

Our story begins many years ago, in a dell deep in the Neverwinter Wood. There, near a burbling brook, stood a little wooden cottage, of the sort Men build. Cozy but not cramped, and simple but not plain. It had a roof of thatch, not too shaggy, which sloped to an awning over a modest porch. A chimney made of mortar and river-stones abutted the residence, perpetually curling a small crease of white smoke into the trees wreathing the dell.

Within the wood, within the dell, and within that cozy little cottage, lived a Halfling with ruddy, freckled skin, coal-black hair, and big brown eyes. Short in stature even among the wee folk, and almost as short in years, Ludo Maypop nevertheless tended the matters of house and home as well as any grown folk, big or small. Up with the rooster's crow every day, the boy fed the chickens, tidied messes, tended the garden, and minded the kitchen. The latter of which seemed to occupy the majority of both Ludo's time and passion. It's often been written of the Halfling love of comfort food, and the trait did not miss the young Maypop. Though only cooking for one, making sure not to skip any of the six Halfling meals in a day was practically a full time job.

It was a lonely life. Days, weeks, sometimes months on end, Ludo lived alone. Halflings are a folk who prefer to never meet a stranger. When neither friends nor strangers darken your door, sometimes the only thing to do is to create the friends you want to meet. Ludo had a menagerie of friends of the manufactured sort. There was Pattypan the Possum, who accepted tribute in the form of pie crusts and apple cores. Gregory Forklin was a misshapen kitchen utensil in a previous life, before a crudely-knitted suit was fashioned around his rusty handle. Ludo even found the time to painstakingly whittle a canine companion of a sorts from a log, and named it Bark. It has also been written extensively of the Halfling love of a good pun. Or an especially bad one.

Discounting the friends he imagined, made with his two hands, or that walked on four legs, Ludo only had one other friend. The only person he knew in the world, really.

Karsten.

Technically Sir Karsten of the Argent Order, though Ludo had as much understanding of titles and orders as a hippopotamus might. A Human Knight in glinting armor was strange company indeed for a Halfling. For as long as Ludo could remember, Karsten had always been close by. Even in Ludo's haziest early recollections of his parents, he was there. When his parents died in Ludo's tender years, Karsten took up the responsibility of being the boy's guardian. He spirited Ludo away to an isolated place of safety, and built the cottage in the woods with his own hands. For Ludo's formative years, Karsten stayed close at hand always. He taught the boy how to read, mended ripped seams, healed scraped knees. Karsten taught Ludo how to cook; he was surprisingly well-learned on all manner of Halfling recipes - from trifles to toad-in-a-hole, and from sausage rolls to scuppernong pies. But most importantly, Karsten was a friend to a boy who was starving for one. He was never to proud, and never too grown up to meet Ludo in his own world, where imagination manifested into reality. So long as the chores were done, there was always time for a story, or a game, or even just reveling in idle time by laying on the grass and calling out animal shapes in the clouds.

As the years passed, and Ludo began to show signs of self sufficiency, Karsten spent more and more time away from the little cottage he had built. The Argent Order needed him, he explained, and that he would never be far. At first, it was a day or so, every other week. Then a day every week. Two days. A week. Two weeks. A month.

The day before Ludo's sixteenth birthday, it had been 58 days since Karsten had returned home. For the last three years, Karsten had spent more time away than at home. But he'd never missed his birthday before...

[Ludo Maypop]

"Six peaches, a quart of blueberries, two bell peppers, three big tomatoes, two eggplants, four courgettes, and two goose-neck squash!"

The basket was full-to-bursting with ripe fruit and vegetables from the garden, and Ludo grinned at the bounty, even as he had to use both arms to lug it back to the house. Midway back, he paused, setting the overflowing basket down for a moment to tilt back the wide brim of his gardening hat.

"Reckon we could make a ratatouille for sure! Maybe hand pies for the peaches, and muffins for the blueberries?"

He looked down expectantly for an answer. Wedged in his pocket was a bent and fussed-over fork, well-past its prime. The bent tines carried a rat's nest of yarn that almost looked like an unruly head of hair - reinforced by the crude face painted on the flat bit near the handle. Gregory Forklin didn't give an answer of the sort that grown-ups might understand, but Ludo got the message.

"You're right, we baked muffins yesterday. What about scones? A cobbler? Maybe a grunt? With a dollop of clotted cream!"

Ludo picked up the hefty basket again, and double-timed it back home. He dragged his produce up the stairs, and paused for a spell in his nearly toy-sized rocking chair, which sat next to Karsten's gigantic one. He couldn't help but look up at it, and frowned at its emptiness. Feeling eyes on him, the boy looked back to Gregory in his pocket.

"I really hope he comes home, Gregory." Ludo swallowed heavily, hanging his head a little. "I'll bake my own cake if I have to. I just don't want to eat it by myself."

A few beats of silence, and Ludo looked appalled at the fork.

"I am not wasting buttercream frosting on Pattypan! You know he doesn't appreciate stuff like that. Might as well give it to Bark."

Ludo slid off the rocking chair, his perpetually-bare feet smacking lightly on the porch. He turned to the cottage door - a curious little portal with an unusually low-mounted doorknob. As he reached for it, he caught a flash of light in the corner of his eye. Looked to be lightning - north, just past the crest of the ridge overlooking the dell. Barely half a moment later - a peel of thunder. A close one.

Wait. Lightning??

Ludo's brow knit as he pushed the brim of his hat farther back on his head. There wasn't a cloud in the sky.

"Did you see that?"

Gregory didn't answer, and Ludo wasn't paying attention if he did. The Halfling took a few steps off the porch, looking in the direction of the strike.

"Maybe I imagined it?" Ludo conceded to himself, perfectly capable of holding a conversation with a party of one.

When the second bolt came down, it elicited a surprised yelp from the boy, who almost fell back on his backside. Ludo blinked.

"Okay, not imagining! Real lightning!"

He couldn't be sure, but it looked like it was pretty close to the last one. Which was preposterous. He wasn't sure which book he'd read it in, but Ludo was definitely certain that someone with enough smarts to write a book had certainly written that lightning never strikes the same place twice.

BANG

He wasn't imagining this. Any of it. A third bolt out of a cloudless sky. Maybe he couldn't be sure about the first bolt, but the second and the third one?

Karsten said stuff like this was auspicious. Grown-ups love big words, but Ludo knew what that one meant. A sign.

The boy's lips pressed into a determined thin line, and he pulled Gregory out of his pocket, wedging him into the basket between a tomato and a courgette.

"I need you to watch the produce, Gregory."

Ludo shuffled to the edge of the porch, fetching his trusty walking stick, which he kept propped between the newell posts. Another spear of lightning came down, and there was no doubt about where it hit.

"I gotta go take a look..."

A mixture of curiousity and trepidation filled Ludo's expression. He tipped down the brim of his straw hat, and set off for the ridge.

[Ludo Maypop]

By the time Ludo had crested the ridge, lightning had touched down four more times. The penultimate two were so close and loud that the Halfling cupped his hands to his ears to shut out the painfully-loud thunderclaps. Grimacing, the boy looked around at trees to the right and left. Karsten used to tell him not to stay too close to trees in a thunderstorm. He'd be very cross right now if he saw what Ludo was doing now!

The air smelled strange here. Something acrid smelled like burning, but not like any smoke he'd ever smelled before. The hairs on his bare feet stood on end, almost like the ground was buzzing. Ludo tried to make himself as small as possible, looking warily to the suddenly-ominous trees at his left and right. Beyond the ridge, there was open ground devoid of trees for about a hundred feet. At the center, the halfling could clearly see a blackened scorch mark radiating outwards for ten feet in any direction - the source of that strange burning scent.

KA-DOOM!!

"AAAAAH!!"

A final bolt speared from the sky, blinding and deafening at once. He was close enough to feel the displacement of air, and tumbled backwards, his straw hat pinwheeling away. Every hair on Ludo's body seemed to stand as he cowered behind a rotted log, cupping his hands to his ears. All he could hear was a muffled rush of blood in his ears overlaid by a faint, high-pitched ringing. A frozen image of lightning in mid strike seared into his retinas until it was at last blinked away. When he could hear and see the world again, the boy kneaded the goosebumps on his arms and feet away, and carefully - very carefully - hazarded another peek over the log, keeping his hands cupped over his ears, just in case.

Unchanged from what he'd last seen, but with more time to look, Ludo focused at the center. In the distance, something was catching the light of midday, and twinkling like glass.

"What is that?"

Ludo patted his empty pocket. Oh, right. He'd left Gregory at home. Still a good question. The halfling craned his neck a little more, squinting. No good at this distance. He'd need to get closer. Ludo immediately squeezed his eyes shut at the thought. That's crazy! He'd get zapped to a crisp!

At the same time, this was easily the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him! He couldn't wait to tell Karsten, especially if he came home for his birthday! Karsten went on so many adventures and always had stories to tell about far-off lands, exciting new people, unbelievable exploits, and fantastic treasures! Up until now, the best Ludo could do to compete was to either make a particularly-good Full Hafling breakfast, or to make up his own adventures. No matter how good of a story it was when Ludo and Pattypan the Possum fought against imaginary pirates, it was just that. A story.

No longer.

Maybe if he waited it out, and made sure that it was safe, he could take a look? Ludo cupped hands over his ear again - just in case, but kept a vigil on the epicenter. Nothing. Without a cuckoo clock in the cottage to look at, keeping track of the passing of the day was more of an art than a science. Karsten showed him how to tell time based on how his shadow was cast on the ground, but Halflings needed no such trick. If anything in the planes was as punctual as Mechanus, it was the workings of the Halfling stomach. A whining growl from Ludo's belly, so long after Lunch? Couldn't be earlier than half-till Tea. With his bearings found, Ludo settled in, watching for any signs of remaining danger.

Four tummy growls later, Ludo was reasonably certain the coast was clear. That, and if he waited any longer, the only things he'd have time for Tea would be some crusty rarebit and cold summer sausage. With hunger sanding down the edges of his danger aversion, Ludo settled his nerves, and convinced himself that all was well. He clambered over the rotten log, splitting his attention between the scorched ground and the blue sky above. Even without the threat of lightning peppering from above, Ludo had a healthy respect for danger from above. Karsten told him all manner of stories about monsters, and plenty that liked to hunt from the clouds. Harpies, Rocs, even Dragons! Even before that, Karsten had read him practically every Halfling folk tale ever put to press - a disturbing number of which involved naughty children being carried away by hawks or eagles.

"They only know you're small. They have no idea you're special," Karsten was apt to say, "Once they realize you're hard to catch, they'll move on to something easier."

It was a comforting thought, as long as you didn't think about it too much. Still, the lesson sunk in deeply. No lightning in four tummy growls, and nothing ill on the wing either. Ludo dug his bare toes into the mossy earth beneath, finding his mettle.

"Okay...okay. Okay. I'm doing it. I'm going. Right...now."

His first steps into the clearing were tentative and careful. Ludo stooped into a crouch, as he slowly crept towards the burned earth. Blackened blades of grass fell to ash with the faintest crunch beneath his feet. Ludo wrinkled his nose, unfamiliar with the smell of ozone. This close, he could now see what was at the center of the scorched earth. It was a crystal. Rising slightly from the ground from glass-crusted rock, it sat maybe three inches off the ground. Roughly cube-shaped and translucent, when it caught the light, it reflected back in shades of blue, contrasting with the milky-pink quartz glass crusting the ground below. Ludo had traversed from one end of the dell to the other, and sometimes even a little bit beyond, but he'd never seen any mineral of that sort, not that he was well-learned in matters of mineralogy or any other Dwarf-sense.

Enthralled by his curiosity, Ludo took another step forward, and immediately stepped back.

"Ow!"

He tilted up his foot. Well-calloused or not, a Halfling sole was no friend of jagged glass. Fortunately, it was just a small cut, but it forced Ludo to now mind where he stepped as well. The boy frowned. All around the crystal, a lacing of glass formed like ice on a lake in winter, revealing askew panes with razor-sharp edges. Ludo paced the periphery, looking for the safest way to approach. It was only two or three steps, but they needed to be careful. With his tongue pressed between is lips in thought, the boy made his first step. The sheet of quartz beneath didn't crack or shift. Another careful step almost ended in disaster, but Ludo was able to keep from slipping backwards onto shards. Not wanting to risk another step, Ludo reached as far as he could, his little fingers just curling around the far edge of the crystal's opposing facet. With a grunt, he pulled the crystal free from the rock - and nearly bobbled it into the glass.

Beyond the horizon in the north, Ludo heard something unseen roar, and felt the weight of unseen eyes he could not explain.

Quickened by ancient fears, the boy clutched the crystal tightly and turned back the way he came, missing a wicked shard of glass by a cat's whisker's distance. Ludo ran, over the log, down the ridge, back to the dell, and back to the little cottage by the burbling brook, never looking back. He kept one hand pressing his straw hat on his head, while one kept hold on his treasure. He didn't stop until he was well-past Gregory and the garden basket, and well-through that curious door with it's too-low doorknob. Only when the door was slammed fast behind did Ludo stop. The boy slid down to the floor, catching his breath. As the adrenaline ebbed, the wide-eyed look of fear turned to wonder and elation.

"My first adventure," he whispered, in awe, "For real this time."

[Ludo Maypop]

When Ludo was reasonably sure that whatever he'd heard roar in the distance hadn't followed him home, and wasn't preparing to huff, puff, and blow down that little cottage in the dell in the woods, he brought in his garden basket from outside. After carefully cleaning and dressing the cut on his foot in the washroom, Ludo returned to the kitchen, ready to get back to work. Adventures were one thing - but a Halfling that made a regular habit of skipping meals wouldn't have much energy for adventuring - or anything else for that matter.

Fortunately, rarebit and a spot of toast with a link of sausage didn't take much time. Ludo put the kettle on as he made his plate, and carried it to the table. Across from Karsten's Man-sized chair, Ludo's own was nearly equal in height, though built more narrowly for a Halfling's frame, with multiple wooden spacers between the legs to function like rungs of a ladder. Ludo placed his plate up onto the seat of his chair, climbed up two steps, and moved the plate to the table to allow him room to sit. Once the kettle began to scream, the boy steeped a cup of tea, and carefully returned to the table with it on a saucer, repeating the same ritual to climb up and into his seat.

As Ludo began his Tea, he talked between bites down at the costumed fork once again stuffed in his pocket. Gregory Forklin wasn't the best dinner conversationalist, but Karsten wasn't here, and Ludo was buzzing with excitement and needed someone to talk to.

"It was crazy!" Ludo exclaimed between mouthfuls of rarebit. "Lightning just coming down like BOOM, BOOM, BOOOOOM!!! It was way loud! Kinda glad that you don't really talk, because my ears are still kinda ringing," he admitted, gingerly wiggling a finger in one of his ears in an attempt to settle things down.

Taking a sip of tea, he continued, "Everything was burnt up all around where the lightning hit stuff, and it smelled weird. And there was all this sharp stuff like glass, that's how I hurt my foot, because it was all sharp around where that crystal was..."

Ludo looked next to his tea cup, and saw the blue crystal sitting where it shouldn't be. "That's weird." The boy frowned, then looked confused. It was generally poor form in Halfling homes to bring any distractions to the dinner table. No books, no toys, that all could wait. He'd left it on the counter, or at least he thought he did.

As interesting as the crystal was, he really ought to put it away - for now. His ruddy fingers curled around it's smooth facets, and Ludo's brow furrowed. It felt cold to the touch, and he could feel the slightest static-like tingle in his fingertips as they slid along one of the glass-like surfaces. Was that because of the lightning? Was there still lightning inside it?

Ludo picked up the crystal, and slid off his chair to the ground, padding gingerly to his room. When Karsten originally built the cottage, he built a Halfling-sized bunk within a space the size of a large closet, with two Halfling-sized floors within, separated by a small ladder. It was a space belonging entirely to Ludo, and it was where he kept most of his worldly possessions.

On the first level of that cozy nook, half the walls were plastered with small posters and handbills. Advertisements of gladiatorial combat featuring exotic beasts in Neverwinter. A marquee from a bawdy Cormyrian comedy. A hanging scroll, announcing a bard show that was so taboo that it was banned in Waterdeep. Bark the Wooden Dog sat faithfully-unmoving, keeping vigil over a simple wooden desk, piled high with a disorganized stack of Halfling-sized books.

Standing at his desk, Ludo paused as he moved to set the crystal down. The cool of the surface now seemed warm. As the boy turned it slightly in his hand, the lamp light picked up reflections within the bluish cube - tiny fractures and imperfections within what was otherwise flawless blue. There were hundreds, and they all seemed to form some kind of fractal image, suspended in the crystal. The more that Ludo looked into the swirling imperfections, the deeper they seemed to extend - impossibly deep, given the crystal's size.

Ludo jerked his head away, shaking away a sudden feeling of vertigo while nearly falling over in the process. For a moment, the room seemed to spin around him. Through the sound of rushing blood in his ears, Ludo could have sworn he heard voices in that moment - whispering in words he couldn't quite hear.

"Hello?" he called out, peeking from behind the door of his nook.

The rushing in Ludo's ears abated, as did the sensation of whispering.

"Karsten?"

Silence.

"Probably just hearing my own stomach." That had to be it, Ludo convinced himself. Ridiculous to get the heeby-jeebies over nothing. He wasn't a kid anymore, and there weren't any monsters in any closets or under any beds. All there was in this house was him and his tea, which was getting colder each minute that he wasted in his room.

Having set the crystal aside, Ludo pushed open the door of the nook, and...

...wait.

He didn't put it on his desk. It was still in his hand.

Something strange was happening, and it wasn't funny anymore. He'd come dangerously close to missing Tea, and obviously he was having hunger-induced hallucinations and lapses of memory. Determined, Ludo pivoted on a heel, and returned to his desk. He slowly eased the blue crystal down onto the wooden surface, all the while with the distinct impression of muffled whispering just beyond his comprehension. It took a bit of willpower to simply leave it be, and as Ludo's fingers at last withdrew, they almost seemed to briefly adhere to the surface before the seal was at last broken, with the faintest of sparks of static electricity popping.

Ludo backed away, letting out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He shook his head. Hunger hallucinations. Had to be.

The boy quickly returned to the kitchen table, climbed back into his chair. One sip of his tea confirmed that he'd waited a few minutes too long. Was it worth the bother of reheating on the stove, or should he suffer lukewarm tea? Ludo looked down to the cup of dark liquid and a third possibility entered his head. A word of nonsense, a twirl of a finger. Every child at some point of their formative years had pretended to be a wizard. Though Karsten always told the boy that he was a special child, Ludo was pretty sure that special did not equate to magical. None of the gibberish incantations of his youth, cast through a twig pretending to be a wand ever made so much as a pebble float, much less anything more whimsical.

Still what did it hurt? Ludo shrugged, cleared his throat, and twirled his fingers, thinking of the best gibberish magic word he could imagine.

"Noih Tatig!"

Nothing. No sparkles, no zap, no flash of light. Special indeed.

Ludo scoffed at his own childishness, sipped from his cup, and nearly burned his tongue on the unexpectedly-hot liquid within.

"What?!"

Was this hunger hallucination too? Ludo winced, pressing the tender tip of his tongue to the roof of his mouth. That was real enough. The steam rising over the cup was too. Ludo sipped again - carefully - giving the piping-hot tea a few hurried puffs of breath to temper it down a bit.

"Gregory, I don't want you to be alarmed, but I think I'm a wizard now."

If the fork was surprised, it hid the feeling behind stainless stoicism. Ludo looked down to the plate of half-eaten rarebit and sausage, both appearing cold with neglect.

"Noih Tatig!"

The half of a sausage link remaining visibly swelled slightly, grease sizzling out of the cut size and sweating down the casing. The mustardy cheese sauce on the rarebit began to bubble slightly and steam. Ludo scarfed down his piping-hot food, pausing periodically to blow on each bite, or simply to exclaim "Wow!"

How did he do that?

[Ludo Maypop]

Nonsense or not, Ludo's magic word was most certainly magical!

Even as Ludo finished his Tea, he began to test the limits of his connection to the arcane. What else could Noih-Tatig do? With a gesture and a word, Ludo turned his tea cold, then made it taste like chocolate milk! Then he made it smell like pie!! At the same time!!! Eyes goggling, Ludo looked over at his dirty plate, now empty. Sipping his chocolate-milk-pie-tea, a thought came to the teenager. While he was no stranger to chores and hard work, not all chores are created equally. If he could magic away having to ever wash dishes again...

With a sly grin, Ludo narrowed his eyes, wiggled his fingers, and put his magic word to use. In an instant, a shimmer of arcane energy passed over the plate, leaving it spotless.

"Holy shit."

Oops! Ludo covered his mouth, instinctively peering around corners for his absent guardian. Home free! Ludo let his hand drop and breathed easier, inspecting the imitation chintz plate carefully. It was so clean that his fingers squeaked when sliding over the top.

"I am...the GREATEST...MAGICIAN...EVERRRRR!!!!!" Ludo yelled at the top of his lungs, throwing back his hands in triumph...nearly tipping over his chair.

"Woop!" he slid off the side and caught the wobbling chair before it could clatter to the ground. Forget about cursing, if Ludo left gouges in the chairs or floor boards, there would be Hells to pay! Karsten was weirdly protective about everything in the house. Something about how he'd learned carpentry from scratch to build everything in this house by himself. That was a great story, unless you'd heard all of Karsten's other stories. Compared to traveling to the Feywild, fighting in gladiatorial combat, or chasing pirates, carpentry was literally as boring as a block of wood.

Now, if Karsten could do magical carpentry, that might be one thing. Ludo smirked as he spot-cleaned the kitchen, a flick of the wrist and a muttered word at a time.

What else could he do?

Ludo ran from one corner of the house to another, testing his potential. His magic word could light every candle in the house, and snuff them out just as easily! He changed the color of his shirt! He made his shirt smell like strawberries, conjured a coffee stain, then made it vanish! There was seemingly no limit to his power!

As the Halfling teen ran around the house, his bare feet skidded to a stop at the threshold between the kitchen and living room. Along the door frame, there were a familiar set of notches cut into the wood. Ludo padded over to the notched frame, running his fingers along the top notch before gliding them to the top of his head.

"Noih-Tatig!"

Ludo watched the notch intently for a moment, but nothing changed. It remained where it was, and he remained where he was.

"Guess that's too much to ask for." Ludo sighed. He slouched a bit, glancing down at his barely-hairy insoles. Standing tall again, the boy rose up on his toes, and watched that top notch shift just a little further down in his eyes.

"Noih-Tatig!"

Ludo traced from the crown of his head to the door frame, etching it with a magical mark. By now, he'd figured out that some of his effects ebbed with time. Until then, what harm was there in pretending to be a little bit taller?

By the time Ludo had come to a stop to even listen to his growling stomach, the clock on the wall showed half-past nine! Oh crumpets! He'd completely missed both Supper and Dinner! Missing one meal was an extreme rarity. Missing two? It was the collapse of society and social order, at least according to a few comments between the ratios in Halfling cook books.

"Look at me, Gregory. Skipping meals. I'm becoming a delinquent. Next I'll be living with the raccoons, feral and crepuscular." Ludo jested while climbing through the pantry.

A few moments later, and Ludo scampered down with a tin of oats. With a spark of magic, he lit the fire under the kettle. A scant thirty minutes and one knob of butter later, Ludo climbed back to the table with some simple oatmeal.

A little too simple.

"Noih-Tatig!"

Ludo crammed a heaping spoonful in his mouth, and grinned like he'd committed a crime and got away with it. They'll never know he's been having Sunday roast and gravy this whole time!

[Ludo Maypop]

With a belly full of imitation roast and gravy, Ludo could feel sleep fast approaching. After a spate of magical cleaning, he made sure to snuff the candles, taking only a small lantern with him to his closet nook. He changed into pajamas, and nearly threw his dirty clothes into the hamper before deciding once again to use magic to cheat responsibility. A few seconds later, laundry was no longer a problem!

A glint out of the corner of Ludo's eye drew him back to the crystal. It caught the light of the lantern, reflecting back in hues of cool light blue. When his fingers brushed against the crystal, the surface felt cold, but not uncomfortable. Ludo held it in both hands, and saw his breath in steamy puffs, but felt countervailing warmth in the same moment. The strange moment passed as soon as it began, and the crystal felt heavy and inert. Curiosity fought against sleep and the metabolic crisis of meal skipping. Ludo lay in bed, turning the crystal over and over in his hands, letting the lantern light dance in its fractals for a few minutes, until his eyes grew too heavy, and his magic word put out the lantern.

Dreams came not long after Ludo's eyes closed. There was a feeling of movement and rushing momentum. Ludo could feel his stomach turn almost as if in freefall, or buffeted like a bird in a storm. His vision was a constant shifting blur that slowed only long enough to catch glimpses of grey sky, rocky ground, slate-grey ocean, and trees. The tumult left a sensation of bile in his throat, real or imagined. Fighting for agency, Ludo tried to right himself and to find some way to regain his bearings. The sound of gale-force winds mingled with barely-perceived whispers. Ludo had the sensation that something was reaching out to him, and looking for a response.

Ludo sat up in bed with a gasp, catching his breath as he pressed against his mattress with both hands, as if to convince his body he wasn't falling. His pajamas twinkled with frost, the perspirations of his dreams somehow flash frozen, before sublimating away to leave dry warmth. And all the while, Ludo could still hear whispers, nearly-imperceptible and not-quite incomprehensible. Alien words that meant nothing - or did they?

A shadow darkened the moon hanging in Ludo's window for a moment. The boy turned, but the night was as still as when he'd last left it.

More whispers. Voices he didn't recognize, but one he did. Unable to glean words, Ludo nevertheless was certain one of the voices was Karsten's - and it was coming from Karsten's room.

Heart quickening, Ludo wiped the sleep from his eyes and re-lit his lantern. Leaving his nook, the boy padded down the hallway towards Karsten's room. The door was closed, and he could see no light from the gap in the threshold to indicate that anyone was inside. However, the voices were still there - just beyond Ludo's capacity to hear the words being spoken.

"Karsten?" Ludo chanced, leaning close to the door. The voices stopped entirely. Karsten didn't like it when Ludo went in his room. Ludo made a face. Karsten wasn't here. That made him the man of the house, and this was a reasonable exception to the rule. Still, Ludo opened the door with great care, not sure what he would find as he held his lantern aloft.

The bedroom's appointments were simple, save for a large, comfortable bed. There was a dresser and a chest of drawers, and an oil lamp on a night stand. Ludo was mindful of the slightly dull look of the polished furniture - indicating an accretion of dust over the last two months away from home. Dust that would betray Ludo if his fingers were too careless.

Whispers picked up again, like the rustling of leaves heralding the wind that lofted them.

Look. Closer.

Ludo was certain what he heard, though the words were not the same. He felt drawn towards the closet. It was a simple affair, without a door to hide its contents. A few hangers sat barren on the rack, with a few towards the far side of the room occupied with garments that didn't seem like they'd seen much wear. Above, Ludo could see a shelf, far out of his reach. The Halfling teen did a quick canvas of the room, looking for a steamer trunk, a hamper, a chair, a stool, or anything that might be stackable. Useless, he thought. Even if he could find something to stack, he'd be made by the dust if Karsten noticed - and he definitely would.

Look. Closer.

Ludo held his lantern up high, raising up on his tip-toes. Just beyond the shelf edge at the top of the closet and barely in Ludo's vision, he could see the corner of a wooden box. An intense feeling of curiosity rose in Ludo that could not be tempered by grown-up rules. He didn't just want to look in that box. He had to.

In that moment, another word formed.

"D'nahegam."

Born of nothing and nonsense, it spilled out of Ludo's mouth quiet as a whisper and ended resonating through the walls and floorboards, like the faintest sound of far-away thunder. Looking down at his left arm, Ludo saw a faint shimmer of energy slide away as if it were a glove being pulled free. The shape of fingers and thumb held faintly in his awareness, as Ludo manipulated a hand made of energy as if it was his own natural appendage. The magical hand moved with his thought, floating silently upwards until it eclipsed the upper shelf. Looking from below, Ludo steered fingers and thumbs, his mind feeling resistance as the ghostly hand grasped the box.

Standing at the ready below, Ludo held up both hands uncertaintly, grimacing. He wasn't sure how heavy the box was or how reliable this new invisible hand power was. The last thing he wanted to do was to break all of Karsten's stuff - or break his own head if it fell on him. Taking a half step back for self-preservation, Ludo carefully began to lift the box. He could feel its weight and resistance challenging him, and Ludo focused, keeping the box steady and in a controlled descent.

It was all working well. Quite well, in fact.

"What are you doing?!"

Ludo turned suddenly at the sound of the voice. Standing at the threshold of the room, Ludo could see a tall, broad silhouette. The silhouette took a step into the room, crossing the light of the lantern to reveal Karsten of the Argent Order.

To his credit, Ludo didn't yelp in surprise. However, his control over the box was severed in that moment, and it tumbled to the floor with a crash. The wood splintered, and the lid broke from the hinges, spilling a pile of letters, pictures, and a handful of curios and baubles.

Ludo was in trouble and he knew it. Karsten was a great guardian, but that didn't mean he didn't have a temper. Ludo wasn't a bad kid, but part of being a kid involves testing boundaries. He'd done so often enough to know he didn't want to make a habit of it.

But it wasn't anger that Ludo saw on Karsten's face. Not entirely. Perhaps it was a fault of the lantern light, but Ludo saw writ between the anger in Karsten's expression something more concerning.

Fear.