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Hijinx Fantasy Presents: Vicki the Sorceress and the Swamp Men of Mictlan Chapter 3: Wherein Vicki Returns Home and Renews Childhood Friendships by Noir

Santa Dominique was a picturesque realm, full of softly rolling hills, winding rivers, and many scattered copses of white-barked tress. Buildings of white stone dotted the green countryside, surrounded by low fences and the moving specks of people. Memories came flooding back to Vicki as she approached her father's estate. The gentle peasants, the familiar farmhouses, every stone wall, even individual trees, brought back memories of her childhood.

She remembered that creek. Just upstream a short way, past the bend and in that copse, she'd crawled out onto the tree that had fallen across the river several nights earlier in a fierce storm to try to catch the turtles on the sandbank in the center. Francis, one of the serving boys, had been bouncing up and down nervously on the shore pleading with her to be careful.

On top of that hill was a small tool shed, out of view of the main house. She'd had her first kiss behind that shed. William, the woodsmith's son, had plied her for two weeks with the whimsical wooden jewelries he'd carved. He'd stolen a jug of his father's ale and some sweetmeats, then lured her back behind the shed and stolen a sweet kiss.

A large oak, a burn scar still at its base, was where Francis and she had tried to get some honey from the hive at the top. They'd planned carefully for the childhood quest, lighting a smoky fire at the base of the tree, and then Francis had gone up to protect her from harm. As so many of her childhood adventures, it had all gone quite wrong. The fire had spread to the tree and the smoke had sent the young cat unconscious, and to her great frustration, it had been a swarm of wasps, not bees.

Despite such fond memories, the passing realm was nonetheless strange and unfamiliar in many ways. The fields were divided by new walls, populated by new people, living in new homes, and the town itself had at least doubled in size. Vicki hadn't remembered her home realm being so crowded! The realm had done well for itself over the last several years - probably because of the trade road, which had been rather new at the time she'd run away from home.

Over the next rise lay a broad estate - her father's estate. The outlying farmlands belonged to him, as well as the long loop of a fenced-in field around a small wood where several dozen fine horses ran. All the snippets of memories she'd been experienced flooded back. This was the setting of her childhood.

Yet, surreal, she felt she was in the wrong place. It seemed impossible that it could have changed while she wasn't here to witness it, but there, the manorhouse had a new wing. A new smithy and stables sat in the front circle, around a new fountain. The old smithy still sat up by the horse fields, but she could see the scorch marks telling her that it had caught fire while she had been away.

The front courtyard had been laid with cobbles and the new fountain had water spilling out of a hidden spout to tumble over the leaves of a stone fern and the little pixies hidden in the sculpture. The front entrance was no longer a simple swinging wooden gate, but instead was a stone archway with doors swung wide open, and never closed, if the thick vines twined in and out of the wraught iron bars were any indication. Vicki knew it was home. If she looked up at the manorhouse at just the right angle, she could convince herself it was the same ... but the moment she looked aruond, she felt like a stranger.

Three servants looked up at her as she rode through the gate, leading the other three horses behind her. Two were girls wearing modest dresses of black with white aprons, the Savanah family crest of a sun rising over a plain embroidered on the breast of the aprons. They walked slowly as they carried bundles from the storehouses to the main house, their eyes curiously upon Vicki. The boy was a black wolf just over 18, and wasn't wearing his shirt, stripped down to the waist as he swept up the cobbles before the stables, his broad chest and lean tummy bare. His pants were a black nearly the same as his fur, and his white shirt was tossed over the nearby picket line. His deep golden eyes were also on Vicki, but with a more appreciative glint in them. None of the three were familiar to her - they must have been hired since she left.

Their gaze slipped unconcerned over the black cat, her unconscious hero, draped over neck of his horse, tied in place so he wouldn't fall off. She supposed she looked like a bounty hunter - she'd certainly repeated this scene often enough when bringing some bounty to justice. They certainly didn't seem surprised by the scene, suggesting it was fairly common to them.

Vicki stopped before the main doors and slipped lightly from her saddle, smoothing out her divided riding skirts. The door opened before she had fully settled, and she looked up to see an old cocker spaniel with friendly eyes, his fur neatly brushed, wearing black trous and tunic, with a white mantle over his old shoulders. the family crest was not embroidered over his clothes, but instead hung as a pendant around his neck - a mark of his standing in the household.

He nodded his head politely. "Good evening, miss," he said cheerfully.

"Good evening, Gerard," she said happily, "Would you please tell the lord and lady of the house that Mistress Savanna is here to see them?"

Gerard's eyes furrowed briefly in confusion, then widened in shock as he recognized her. "Vicki?!" he cried, taking a few steps forward to wrap his arms around her. She'd always remembered him as taller than her - it was odd that his head now came up no higher than her chin. "Why, it's so good to see you!" He stepped back and looked her up and down. "You've certainly grown into a stunning young woman!" Vicki laughed merrily and hugged Gerard warmly, patting his back. The old man drew back slowly, his eyes bright with happy tears. "Your father will be so pleased!" he cried happily.

"Speaking of which," Vicki reminded him gently, "It has been a few years ... I want to see mother and father. Are they in the study?"

The little old dog dropped his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Vicki," he said regretfully. "They're off on a business trip into the city, and won't be back for several weeks."

Vicki laughed and shook her head. Just like that, the surreal sense of being in a strange place disappeared, and it was very familiar, right down to the old, familiar throb of disappointment and loneliness. They were always gone on business trips - it'd been that way most of her childhood. "Don't worry, Gerard," she said gently, "I'm used to it."

The servants helped her to get the unconscious black cat up into her bedroom, tucked in nice and neat. Her room was still a little girl's room, immaculately kept in the style of when she was younger, although the legion of dolls her mother had bought for her was notably in absence. She settled down onto her windowseat and looked down over the courtyard, at the few servants bustling about down there and the horses being taken care of by the handsome young shirtless stablehand. How often had she sat here, leaning over to rest her head against the window so she could see as far down the dirt road as possible, waiting to see her parents' carriage crest the hill?

A wave of boredom hit her at the thought of waiting here in her parents' home for weeks before they would show up. Her feet itched, and all she wanted to do was drop off years worth of collected trophies and knickknacks and get back on the road first thing in the morning. Her mind drifted to Syndra's comment about people disappearing in the swamps, and she slipped into mild daydreams about what sort of grand adventures might be awaiting her just through a realm gate or two, what new companions she might fall in with.

Her idle fantasies were interrupted by the cat on her bed groaning softly. She slipped from her seat and sauntered over to the bed, settling onto the edge and smiling down. His long black hair spilled in a mess over the pink pillows of her bed, a white cloth wrapped around a small block of ice was resting on his temple, and the blankets were only half covering his lean chest. His emerald eyes were opened and slowly focusing, his hand reaching up to tentatively touch the icebag pressed against the swelling lump. She took his hands and pressed them back down to his chest. "Morning, Hero," she purrrred to him.

The cat's confused eyes moved to her face, and several long seconds passed before recognition lit on his face. "Ah, it's de lovely lady I meet on de road," he murmured quietly. "I hope you are all right?"

Vicki laughed softly. "You're th' one laid up in bed, hero," she reminded him, her fingers caressing lightly over his jaw. "And I'm grateful to you for your help." She leaned a little closer over him, her purple eyes leaping playfully.

The cat smiled warmly, lifting his head a little, then winced and brought his hand up to the ice covering his temple again, his head falling back and his eyes squeezed shut. Vicki felt a pang of guilt at having teased him to pain, and her gentle fingers moved to cover his own in holding the wrapped ice in place.

His eyes opened again, smiling to her and then drifting away to look around. A perplexed look crossed over his face. "This looks like ..." he murmured quietly, his voice drifting away. Then, in a stronger tone, he asked, "Why am I in Miss Vicki's room?"

Vicki stared at the cat. He knew what her room looked like? Who she was? The only black cat she knew in the household, and with that ridiculous accent ... "Francis?!" she cried in surprise, jumping back. Her 'hero' was that little scaredy-cat she teased while they were growing up?

A look of horror crossed the black cat's face. "How did you-" he started, then paused. "Where did you hear-" then he stopped again, comprehension finally dawning on his face as the thoughts slowly assembled in his battered brain. He pulled away from her, a thud sounding through the room as he fell ungracefully from the bed to the floor, then scrambled to his feet. "Miss Vicki!" he cried.

Vicki smirked lightly, looking him up and down. The years had been nice to the geeky little kitten she'd grown up with. He was lanky, lean, almost feminine, with his long black hair spilling about his shoulders, but he looked strong, too, with a dancer's form. Francis looked down at his naked form, then let out a girlish squeak and snatched up the pink sheets of the bed to wrap around his waist like a long skirt. "Nova!" he said, quickly, backing blindly towards the door, a bit of a panicked look in his eyes. "My name is Nova, now! Everyone calls me so! T'ank you so kindly for taking such gentle care of me, but I will be fine in my room! I'll collect de clothes later!"

The door banged shut behind Nova, and Vicki couldn't help but collapse into helpless giggles at his nervousness. How adorable! He still lost his wits entirely around her! Nova? Where did that name come from? She knew he'd never liked the name 'Francis,' nor 'Frank', nor 'Frankie' nor any variation on it, but where'd he get 'Nova' from?

With a sigh at ruined plans, but bemused by the flustered exit, she shrugged a little and decided to go back to what she had been doing - unpacking her all the little trinkets and knick-knacks that she'd collected over the past couple years. There, that was the eagle decorated chestpiece that the Tlatoani of Omeyocan had given her to wear for her victory dinner. She never had figured out if the Tlatoani had been a femmy sort of King or a butch sort of Queen - not exactly the sort of thing you go about asking. And here, here was the ceramic shard she'd pulled out of the ruins in Yama, the break leaving the figure painted on it nearly intact. So many little treasures, some valuable, some rubbish, but each one reminding her of the story of how she'd gotten it.

Well, mostly. She pulled out a weathered and ancient brass knife, made plainly and without decoration. "Where'd you come from?" she asked the dagger thoughfully. When it failed to answer, she set it aside and dug back into her saddlebags. An hour later, she'd unpacked all the small knickknacks and had run out of space, and she hadn't even started in on the big stuff yet, the stuff in the bag she'd made that was bigger on the inside than on the outside. This little room wasn't going to manage for her anymore.

"Gerard!" she chirped merrily, entering the foyer. "I'm going to need a larger room - I don't suppose there's a suitable one in the new wing?"

The old dog looked up with that little bemused smile he always had. "Of course, Miss Vicki. I'll have it prepared for you at once. Will you be wanting the same pink and purple decor?"

Vicki made a face. "Not for all the ambrosia on Olympus, Gerard. Come up with something elegant, I'm sure I can trust you."

Gerard nodded. "Of course, Miss Vicki. Will there be anything else?"

"I'm going to be heading into town shortly to hunt up some supplies. While I'm waiting for my parents to come back, I'm heading back to Mictlan to look into the missing merchants."

"Ah!" Gerard said enthusastically. "Young Nova has already gone into town for just the same reason!"

Vicki blinked. "Why is Fran ... uh ... Nova looking into disappeared merchants?"

Gerard was busy cleaning off a rack of small figurines. "On your father's behalf, Miss VIcki. That's what he was doing when you two met on the road. Many of the merchants who have disappeared are employed by your family. He already has his own supplies, but he's picking up some for you as well."

With a soft smirk, Vicki crossed her arms and gave Gerard an accusing look. "Which reminds me... you knew I didn't know who he was, didn't you? And you still let me take him to my room?"

The corner of Gerard's mouth twitched upwards in amusement. "The thought of the look on both of your faces..." he mused, then straightened up. "I mean, it's not my place to question your decisions, Miss Vicki."

Vicki laughed and hugged the dear old dog. "You old troublemaker."

Villa de Mantagu was definitely changed from Vicki's rememberance. Where she remembered a broad field where festivals would set up every fall, and where kids played games all summer long, now there was a cluster of large yellow-stone and white-adobe houses with broad scupted gardens. It was obvious people were doing well for themselves, and Vicki knew she should be glad for her hometown, but she felt a pang of loss at the same time for that little rough-hewn, hummocked field she had grown up with.

Lots of the markets were still there. Little places run by families she'd grown up with - Vicki smiled warmly as she saw so many familiar faces, though a bit older and more weathered than she recalled. If Nova was buying supplies, though, she knew just where he would be going. Wheekerson's Market. They'd always bought candy there as kids, and the owner's daughter had been part of their little gang. It might not be cheapest, but it was close as family, and that was the important part.

The small shop was tucked into the corner of a larger warehouse, which Vicki knew stored seed and feed and assorted other bulk items people in the realm might need. The shop itself was compact, narrow aisles between tall shelves packed tight with cans and bags and bottles, reams of fine paper from the nearby high-tech realms, ink and pens and all the little things one needs in life. Under the windows were the rows of glass jars full of brightly colored sweets, and the store itself was full of a cacophonous mix of scents from all these different goods.

The door chimed with the jingling of a dozen little bells as she came through it. An eager cry of "Hey, old man whiskers!" was on her lips, the common greeting she'd given whenever she came in as a kid. The cry died on her lips when she realized the old man wasn't here. Instead, she saw Francis murmuring into the ear of a short lady - obviously the shopkeep, by her clothes - as he slipped a necklace around her neck.

She had the stout form of a guinea pig, the short muzzle, the soft fur, but her fur had the black and white coloration of a Siamese cat. Her bright blue eyes were half closed as she squirmed in embarassment, and the soft velvety triangles of her cat-ears were twitching as Francis' whispers. She had a long cat's tail, and the soft lil' fluff of a guinea pig's tail perched on the end, giving it almost the appearance of a lion's tail. She wore a blue dress and a white apron, and she batted at Francis with the feather duster in her hands. "You stop that!" she squirmed, her cheeks pink with embarassment. "There's a customer!"

"I'll only stop when you admit you are adorable, petite," he murmured back.

There was only one kittypig in the village. "Mirrsy!" Vicki cried happily, hurrying up to her childhood friend. "Oh, it's so good to see you! Watching the shop for the old man?"

Mirrsy's ears perked up happily, and she squealed happily as she leapt forward to hug Vicki tightly. "Vicki!" she cried, "You're back!" She backed up then, looking Vicki up and down critically. "And you got all smexy!"

Vicki laughed delightedly, trying not to think of how flat-chested and awkward she'd been when she'd left. "And you're as sweet, adorable, and blunt as ever!"

Francis grinned and gave Mirrsy a little snug. "Told you," he teased her, to an answering squirm and blush from the little kittypig.

Her eyes got a teasing look in them. "So, you and Fra- ... Nova, here, you're a couple now?"

Mirrsy laughed. "This casanova? Oh, no, he says sweet things to all the girls he meets."

Vicki raised an eyebrow. "CASAnova?" she asked, stressing the first bit as she gave a meaningful look at the black panther. "Ahhh, now I understand."

Nova puffed his chest up indignantly. "I do not say such t'ings to every lady!" he protested. "Only de ones for whom it is true!"

Mirrsy smirked. "And which girls do you not find sweet or cute or adorable or powerful or elegant?"

After a moment's consideration, Nova admitted, "Well, dere is no chere who is no special in some way ... but dey are all special in their own way! How can I no appreciate it and share it wit' dem?"

Mirrsy shook her head, amused. "Even that horrible bitch, Adela?"

There was a moment of hesitation before Nova admitted, "Well, yes. One must look very deep to see her special beauty. She hides it well."

"So, Mirrsy," Vicki said conversationally, "How long ya gotta watch the shop for your old man? We should head out and get caught up before I gotta leave again!"

Mirrsy grinned proudly. "It's not Pop's shop anymore!" she chirped. "It's my shop! About a year ago, he broke his leg after he fell down trying to stack some merchandise on the top shelf. The Ghost Cat healed him up good as new, but he figured it was time to let me take care of the day-to-day business, and he retired to just take care of the books."

Vicki blinked in confusion. "OK, then, I'm sorry for your dad's injury, I'm happy for your new shop, aaand most importantly ... what ghost cat?"

"That's right!" Mirrsy cried. "You've been gone! You hadn't heard about it!" She grinned happily as she sat down to tell the story. "You know that the old temple was destroyed thirty years ago, right?" Vicki nodded - her father had been donating a lot to repopulate the temple with statues lost in the brigand raid. "Well, before the temple had been destroyed, its head priestess, a mottled black and white cat, had been a legendary healer. People would come from realms around to ask for her help."

Mirrsy's voice lowered dramatically. "One day, a feared brigand leader was carried into the temple, wounded by several arrows. His men carried him to the front of the temple, past all the others who were waiting for the blessing of the priestess, and demanded she take care of the brigand leader immediately. The priestess refused, saying that many of the wounds here had been caused by those very brigands. The brigands flew into a rage, but she expelled them from the temple with her powers."

Vicki nodded. "I know this story. He went to get the rest of his brigands. That night, a hundred thugs attacked the temple and destroyed it, then raped and slaughtered the priestess and her followers, but not a single brigand escaped with his life. The ghost of the priestess hunted them down one after the other and killed them to the last man."

She giggled, then, and gave an impish little grin at Nova. "Remember when we dared Francis to put on a bandit mask and sneak down to hit the back of the temple with a stick, then you jumped out with a white sheet over your head and scared three lives outta him?"

Mirrsy laughed delightedly at the memory, and Nova's ears turned pink. "I knew it was a prank!" he protested, "I was just playing along!" the two girls just laughed all the harder, and Nova settled into a good-natured grump.

When they finally stopped giggling, Mirrsy continued. "Well, about a year and a half ago, your dad donated a relief of Nyx, finishing off the pantheon and making it a complete temple again. Not long after that, the ghost cat appeared. Whenever someone in the realm gets hurt, a glowing black-and-white cat shows up wearing a white robe that hides her face. She doesn't say anything, just heals the person and then disappears."

"Wow!" exclaims Vicki, "That's amazing!"

"I know, isn't it awesome?" replied Mirrsy. "I bet you've seen much more scary and impressive ghosts in your adventures, though."

Vicki nodded. "Well, yes, but that's not what I meant. This realm shouldn't have a high enough Heisen Rate to sustain a ghost for thirty years."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," explained Nova, finally entering the conversation. "You know about de chaos storm at de center of de world, right?" he asked, pointing upwards. Mirrsy nodded. "And every once in a while, it spits out a little crystal of order, and dat's where we get magic stones. Every few centuries, it spits out such a huge order crystal, or such a huge load of chaos dust, dat de realm it lands in is completely changed, and de laws of physics of de surrounding realms changes to reflect dat fall."

Mirrsy nodded again. "That's Geography 101," she said. "What does that have to do with ghosts?"

"Getting to dat," said Nova. "De chaos measurement is de Heisenburg Rating, an' de order measurement is de Guttenburg Rating."

"Aren't those just the opposite of each other?" asked Mirrsy.

Vicki shook her head. "Usually they balance each other out," she admitted, "And a high order means a low chaos, and vice versa. A few realms have special circumstances, though, that can make both the ratings high. Those sort of realms get pretty special laws of physics."

Mirrsy nodded. "And that has to do with The Ghost Cat because ...?"

"Usually," Vicki explained, "You need a Heisen Rate of at least 5.5 to keep a ghost around for even a year, before they dissipate. This realm only has a 4.7. The only reason that priestess' ghost hung around long enough to take out the bandits is because she'd been such a powerful chaos mage in life."

With a shrug, Mirrsy dismissed it. "Well, aren't ghosts pretty much a mystery anyway?"

Vicki laughed. "No!" she objected to the concept. "Ghosts are a scientifically measurable phenomenon!"

"That's boring!" Mirrsy objected. "I like it better when it's mysterious. Who wants to be able to explain everything?"

"Um..." Vicki laughed, "I would, actually!"

The lingered for some time in merry nostalgia, revelling in memories of their childhood and swapping stories of what had passed since. Mirrsy told stories about the town and what had been happening in it, Nova waxed playful with anecdotes about traveling with Vicki's father on business trips into the technological cities of the ordered realms, and Vicki shared her adventures deep into the magical realms of chaos.

Finally, Nova sighed. "Miss Vicki," he reminded her, "If we mean to leave today to de swamps of Mictlan and look into de dissappearances of you father's merchants, we must need depart soon."

Vicki sighed. "Fair enough," she said. "I'll see you in a few days, Mirrsy, but we gotta go."

Mirrsy let out a regretful "awwwwwwww" and sighed. "Wish I could go with you guys. Remember when we were kids and we swore we'd become an adventuring group? Here you two are heading into the unknown, looking into some mystery, and all I'm doing is keeping shop."

"You're part of the team!" Vicki assured her. "We couldn't do this if you weren't here supplying us. Besides, maybe someday you can get someone to watch shop for you while you go open up new trade routes for your goods, become a famous adventuring merchant!" Mirrsy laughed and passed out hugs, then Nova and Vicki regretfully left, waving back to Mirrsy.

It didn't take long for them to get ready - soon, their horses were saddled, their saddlebags packed and loaded onto the packhorse. "Almost ready," Nova told Vicki. "Just gotta grab a couple final things from my workshop." He turned and hurried up the hill to the old stables with all the scorch marks.

Curious, Vicki followed. The sharp, oily scent of worked metal struck her nose as the door opened, and she was briefly blinded by moving from the bright sunlight into the darkness. Within, the stables had been converted to a smithy. Contraptions of brass and steel in varying levels of completion were stacked all over the place, and tools were neatly laid aside on shelves and pegs. A small library, a chair, and a lamp was tucked away into one of the stalls.

"Impressive setup," Vicki said approvingly. "So this is where you made that weapon you used on the bandits, then."

Nova turned around, pulling on long, protective gloves woven, it seemed, from threads made of gold. Vicki stared in surprise as he opened up a small chest in the corner, and the room was suffused with a golden glow. The only thing golden gloves like that were used for was protection from... "Chaos dust!" Vicki gasped, taking her casting rod and tucking it behind her thigh nervously. It was halfway across the room, but it still made her nervous. Bad things happened when chaos dust touched order crystals, of which her elemental stones were the most common type. "Nova! You're a chaos mage?!"

Nova closed the chest, his hand holding a small brass locket that Vicki knew had to be lined with gold. Gold was the only element that chaos dust didn't affect, and as valuable as it was - it was even more valuable to chaos mages for its protective qualities. "No at all," Nova protested. "At least, no anymore. Nova, he is a Chaos Engineer!"

They continued the conversation once they were on the road, the steel-shod hooves of the horses thudding through the hard-packed dirt. "But it's impossible," Vicki was protesting. "Chaos dust is inherently ... well ... chaotic. Unpredictable. Engines are dependent on being reliable and predictable. The two don't work together!"

"Thus de chaos sink," Nova was explaining. "A golden shunt dat directs de wild magic into a small container, letting it change and alter de materials within, and leaving de positive benefits to be used predictably. Imagine, an engine dat heals, wit'out de danger of mutation dat chaos magic usually has!"

"That would be impressive," Vicki smirked, "Except that if you'd invented something like that, why are you working in an old stable instead of in a major university or company?"

Nova gave a slightly embarassed squirm. "Well, um... de University kick me out after de explosion ... de chaos sink, it does no actually work yet. Or it works too well. Dere is still a few bugs to work out."

Vicki couldn't help herself, she threw back her head and let out a ringing laugh of delight. "You're lucky you're not mutated into something unrecognizable!" she told Nova. He remained silent at her teasing comment. "Oooor... did you mutate?" she asked, twisting in her saddle to look at his flustered expression. "Where is it?"

Nova shook his head. "I'm no ... exactly mutated. I just have adverse reactions to being exposed to chaos energy."

Vicki laughed again, facing forward once more. She stored that bit of information away for later - she had to find out what was embarassing him so much about this chaos curse.

"Lady Vicki," said Nova, hurriedly, his tone of voice telling Vicki plainer than words that he was trying to change the subject, "I want to apologize for earlier."

"Apologize for what?" Vicki asked, confused.

"In your room," he explained. "I did no mean to insult you, I was simply surprised at seeing you after so long, but in such a state."

She shook her head. "There's nothing to apologize for." Her voice dropped to a teasing, suggestive note. "Unless it's to apologize for leaving," she added pointedly.

Nova's shocked voice was everything Vicki could have hoped for. "Lady Vicki!" he exclaimed, "I work for you father! Dat would be highly inappropriate!"

Vicki laughed. "Nova, when have you ever known me to be appropriate?"