“Typical,” Joseph muttered, “Just typical.”

“Mr. Zheng,” Wakeling said.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Joseph said, voice drooling with sarcasm, “It’s typical, really, I honestly shouldn’t be surprised.”

He gave a wide smile that did not meet his rage-filled eyes, “Go on, tell me why the hell I can’t go back. I mean, I was just there.”

“Let me explain, please, Mr. Zheng,” Wakeling said. The magic disappeared, the light returned to the study, “Mr. Zheng, sit down.”

He wasn't aware he had stood up. Joseph's fists were clenched as he glared at the head floating in front of him. Wakeling returned his gaze for a moment, a stern furrow etched on her brow. After a moment, he sighed, lowering himself back into his seat, the edges of his vision swimming a dangerous red. That sense of anxiety that he had felt back on the airship returned to him - a feeling that was becoming his best friend.

“As I said,” Wakeling said, “Planeshifting through Traveling Points is the safest way to travel across the multiverse. Certain Traveling Points connect to certain planes, to the point that one can theoretically create a map of the multiverse using Traveling Points alone.”

“So what's the catch?”

“The catch is that the multiverse is constantly in flux,” Wakeling replied, “We can't truly map out and visualize the multiverse because the planes exist in a space incomprehensible to us. They are not truly next to each other. Rather, Traveling Points are shortcuts across the expanses of reality. And some are only open every so often. Hence, what we call a 'forecast.'”

“Let me guess, you can predict when Traveling Points can open,” Joseph grumbled.

“Correct. And Earth's Traveling Point is located on a plane that only converges with the greater multiverse once every hundred years or so.”

“So... when will it open up again?”

“I'm sorry, dear,” Wakeling gave him a sympathetic look, “Truly, I am.”

“When is it?” Joseph demanded.

“It's in another forty years.”

“Then how did Nai Nai even get out here? Constantly? I mean, not constantly, but definitely here more often than once every hundred years.”

“I... don't know,” Wakeling admitted, “That sarcophagus you mentioned, it seems like it acted as a gate. Now, there are many ways to planeshift. Traveling Points are the easiest, but there are other ways.”

“Why don't we just use one of the other ways, then?” Joseph said, “Come on, you've gotta have something for me.”

“Mr. Zheng, I would not advise it,” Wakeling said, “These... other ways, they are dangerous. Horribly so. You would not survive.”

“I've got to try.”

“Oh?” Wakeling said, “Tell me, what would you do?”

Joseph glared at the head. His mind raced, trying to find something to retort with.

“I would... find a way,” he said.

“How?” Wakeling challenged.

“I just would.”

Wakeling closed her eyes, shaking herself back and forth, “You have no plan, Joseph.”

“I...” Joseph was out of ideas. He slid down the chair, “I don't have anything. If what you're saying is right, I'm as good as dead.”

“Which is why I'll offer you an alternative,” Wakeling said, “Stay here.”

“What would I do?” Joseph asked, “I mean, I don't have anything to pay you with. I'm a broke college student.”

“We can train you,” Wakeling said, “You can work for the guild. Take jobs, work with us.”

Her eyes flashed silver once more, “I can see Broon writing up the report now. He says that you did a very good job out there, kept your head on your shoulders.”

“Ha,” Joseph quipped.

“Join us, Joseph, and we can house you and train you,” Wakeling said, “We'll even arrange to help you with research on the multiverse, in hopes we can find a way back to Earth.”

“That's...” Joseph thought, “That's awfully kind of you. Letting me live here for free.”

“Oh, whoever said anything about free?” Wakeling said, “Those jobs aren't just your average, run-of-the-mill jobs. What, do you think you'll be in an office, doing paperwork? You'll be in the field, facing danger almost every day. You could very well die out there, since the Amber Foundation takes on some very dangerous work.”

“So I almost kill myself every day, and you give me a bed.”

“And food,” Wakeling said, “And training, both in combat and on the nature of the multiverse.”

Joseph mulled the idea over in his head.

“It's a good deal,” Wakeling continued, “Let me be frank with you, Joseph Zheng: you have no friends out here, aside from us. If you walk out that door, out into Scuttleway, you will have no idea what to do. You don't know where anything is, you don't know the politics behind the multiverse, you don't know where to even begin in your steps to go back home. Stay with us, and I promise you, I will help you any way I can to help you get home.”

“...Alright,” Joseph said, “You have a deal.”

Wakeling nodded.

“So, what, should I shake your hand? Do you even have hands?” Joseph asked.

“I do,” Wakeling said, “They're just not... on hand at the moment.”

She gave him a conspiratorial wink. Joseph wanted to die.

“Alright,” he said, calming down, “Where do I start?”

“We'll start with settling you in,” Wakeling replied, “I'll have Contort give you a tour of the place, set you up in one of the rooms. You'll have a roommate. You said you were in college, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“You'll be used to it, then,” Wakeling gave him a more genuine smile, “Welcome to the Amber Foundation, Joseph. I think you'll like it here, all things considered.”

“Yeah, don't push your luck,” Joseph said. He got up to leave.

***

As Joseph walked out the door, Vyde Wakeling's head sunk back onto the desk. She sighed, eyes flashing as she sent a mental message to Contort to update him about the situation. With that done, she closed her eyes. A pounding headache washed over the old lady.

“Damn you, Zheng,” she muttered, “Now your grandkid's out here. Did you think you'd hide this from them forever?”

She felt a profound sense of loss from the news of Zheng Chun's passing. To be frank, she hadn’t known Zheng Chun very well - perhaps no one did. A conversation here or there, perhaps. No, it was Zheng’s legacy that Wakeling felt. It had always followed the old bitch, a specter that never quite escaped her shadow. Perhaps she should have told that Joseph boy more about her, and what she represented. But no, he would discover that in time. She could feel that same passion emanating from young Joseph. Opening her eyes back up again, she floated over to one of the shelves. A hand made of purple energy manifested next to her, pulling out one of the books. There was still wine, so she would drink that.

“That's all witches do, I suppose,” Wakeling said wistfully, “Cast spells and day drink.”

***

Joseph went down the stairs and back into the great hall. He waited by the massive sword, arms crossed. The anger and panic that had been gripping him was abetting somewhat. He was glad that he could stay here, but the fact that he would be expected to work out in the multiverse wasn't a comforting thought. Still, it was better than being out here without any idea of what to do, so Joseph waited. This 'Contort' would be meeting him here soon.

Members of the guild walked by, a few of them giving him curious glances. Most of them were all absorbed in their own work, however, and paid him no heed. Joseph took a second to get more of a look at the sword in the center of the hall, whistling all the while.

“There you are! Son of a bitch!”

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The voice rang across the hall. Joseph cringed, turning away from the blade to see a man approaching. He had wavy blond hair and a confident smile on his face, looking as though he had just walked out of a fraternity back on Earth. He was wearing a green jacket and torn jeans. He brought out a hand to shake Joseph's, slapping him on the back afterwards.

“Arne Contort,” he said, “I'm your guide here for the Amber Foundation. You're Joseph, right?”

“R-right.”

“Excellent. Let me give you a tour of the place. You've already been up to Wakeling's study, so you already know that spire.”

He turned and began walking. As he walked, he talked.

He talked a lot.

“Right, so there are around twenty floors that make up Castle Belenus,” he said, “Most of them are bedrooms and sitting rooms that we've converted into bedrooms. There are also training grounds outside for any form of combat you wish for, a grand library with books from across the multiverse, and a petting zoo.”

They went up a flight of stairs, going across one of the balconies that overlooked the Great Hall.

“A... petting... zoo?”

“Yeah, for the war goats, and shit,” Contort shrugged, “Look, don't ask me. Becenti loves those goats.”

“Becenti...”

“Yeah, might as well go over the leadership with you. I think that's Becenti over there now...”

Contort pointed out a man who looked, from Joseph's perspective, like a Native American man. Becenti was staring down at the Great Hall, hands resting on the balcony. He wore his black hair back in a ponytail, and he was wearing a nice business suit, the sleeves just barely hiding a detailed tattoo.

“Hey, Becenti!” Contort called out.

“Greetings, Mr. Contort,” Becenti's voice was quiet, and he didn't turn to look at them, “With the new recruit?”

“Yeah, his name's Joseph. Introduce yourself, man. Becenti doesn't bite. Hard.”

“Hey,” Joseph waved, “Nice to meet you.”

Becenti turned, his face set in a deep, stony frown. He gave Joseph a curt nod and said, “Excuse me, gentlemen.” Then he turned, and walked away.

“Ah, don't let him get to you,” Contort said, “You saw Wakeling. She gets a bit crazy sometimes, so Becenti has to be the rock that holds the guild together.”

“So he's, what, the second in command?” Joseph asked.

“Something like that. He runs the day-to-day operations of the guild, overlooks certain missions, assigns members of the guild to different jobs, stuff like that. The minutiae. The paperwork. Becenti's our man, if he can't do it, no one can.”

“Er...”

“Actually,” Contort said, “Actually, no, someone probably could. Whatever. Unless Wakeling makes a special choice, Becenti's the man who'll be assigning you your jobs.”

They went up another staircase. Joseph winced a bit as he climbed. His legs still hurt from earlier, when he had gone all the way up to the study. He didn't complain, however. Contort led them into the armory. Weapons and armor were laid out on racks – swords and spears for the most part, but Joseph saw other weapons that gave him pause. A rocket launcher was racked next to a short sword, and the armor in the room ranged from the medieval knight's armor he had seen the guards of Scuttleway wearing to futuristic combat gear.

“This is the armory, obviously,” Contort said, “Now, usually people just wear whatever they brought with them when they joined the guild – comfort, and all that.”

“You don't just deck everyone out in space marine armor?”

“God, no,” Contort replied, “Armor like that is really expensive out here. We save armor like that for special missions that require a lot of firepower. No, metal armor with magical enchantments is a lot cheaper, especially since our guildmaster is such a good sorceress.”

Joseph nodded.

“Anyways, Lylana is our smithy. She's downstairs, though, probably arguing with Broon over his sword. They get like that. You'll see her at some point – small gnome woman. Can't miss her, with her dunce hat and everything.”

He led them further upstairs. There were more bedrooms here. Most of the doors were closed, though. Rosemary was there, and she waved at them before heading downstairs out of sight.

“Oh, you'll want to meet Mekke,” Contort said, opening up one of the doors. Inside was a gym, with weight sets and a couple of treadmills in the corner. It formed a strange dichotomy, with the stone floor and torch sconces on the wall, like King Arthur had decided to get a gym membership. A few guild members were here using the equipment.

“Hey, Mekke!” Contort called out.

A muscular woman finished a deadlift. Joseph's eyes widened as he realized she had been doing her exercises in a centurion's uniform, a sword strapped to her side. She strode over to the pair, sizing Joseph up.

“New guildmate?” she asked.

“Yeah, this here's Joseph. Joseph, this is Mekke, our combat trainer. From now on, you're her bitch.”

Joseph quavered a bit. Mekke was a full head taller than him, and she raised an eyebrow as she stared down at him. Then she cracked a smile and slapped his arm.

“Ah, don't be so shy, man,” she said, “Mekke of the Third Star. That's me. Tomorrow, come on over here, so I can get a gauge on how good you are in the ring.”

“R-right,” Joseph said. Contort was beginning to walk out of the door, “Gotta go.”

Mekke went back to her workout. Joseph walked out the door, feeling like she had just spared his life. Contort gave him a smarmy smile.

“Bro,” he chuckled, “You looked like you were going to die. Total deer in headlights.”

“Whatever,” Joseph said, “She's… muscular.”

“Yeah, she's a soldier from Londoa. Morenhai, I think her country’s called. She's nice, though. Really, she'll point out exactly what you need to do to get better. Want to gain muscle? She'll help you with that. Want to learn martial arts? Mekke's been traveling the multiverse for, like, a million years. She knows it all.

“Oh, here are the showers,” Contort said, “They're communal, so watch out. Hit them whenever you want – folks come in and out of Castle Belenus at odd hours, so you won't get any odd looks if you clean up at three in the morning or three in the afternoon.”

“That's something I can get behind,” Joseph said, “I keep odd hours anyway.”

Another flight of stairs, “This here's the library,” Contort said. Roughly half of this floor – and the floor above it – were taken up by an army of shelves, “It's, ah, a library. Don't break anything, or Barbara over there will skin you alive.”

He pointed out the librarian. Barbara was a large toucan, a pair of glasses nestled on her long, banana-yellow beak. She held a book in one of her talons, claws the size of steak knives gingerly holding it aloft. As Joseph stared at her, her beady blue eyes slid from the book to him.

And narrowed.

“Right,” Joseph said, “Don't mess with Barbara.”

“Aaand, right after the library are a few storage rooms,” Contort said, “And the stairs to the dorms for the newbies. Well, we've been passing bedrooms, but those are for special guests of the guild. Dignitaries, and whatnot.”

He led them up another flight of stairs (“There's no elevator here?” Joseph asked) to a line of dorms. Contort suddenly looked up for a second, as though lost in thought, then he nodded.

“Message from Wakeling,” he said, “You're in room 3-B, with Phineas.”

“Wakeling messaged you?”

“I told you, she's got quite a handle on magic,” Contort said, “Magical messaging is like breathing to her.”

He opened up the door to 3-B. It was a comfortable place, with two beds on either side of a large window. The window itself previewed Scuttleway’s cityscape outside, a plain of buildings and roads below them. Two desks were set up by the foot of the beds, with two closets by the desks. Not exactly roomy, but not a dungeon like Joseph's old dorm.

“Hey Phineas, you in here?” Contort asked.

“I am here,” a scratched, high-pitched, watery voice said. Joseph started as the voice's owner crawled out from the bottom of one of the beds. Phineas was a fish man, with webbed hands and fingers. Bulbous, bugged-out eyes stared at Joseph, at once both human and inhuman. Joseph suppressed a shiver.

“You got a new roommate,” Contort said, “After, ah, Moira...”

“I am aware of Moira's passing,” Phineas replied, “Welcome, ah...”

“Joseph.”

“Joseph. Welcome to the Amber Foundation. What plane do you hail from?”

“Earth.”

“Oh!” Phineas perked up a bit, eyes widening even further, “Very good! Earth is good. Humans there taste good.”

Joseph was silent. Contort pulled a face. Phineas seemed to realize what he had said, and he brought up his hands in panic.

“Oh! I will not eat you, however. I have not eaten humans in a long time. I am vegetarian.”

“That's... good,” Joseph said.

“Well, that concludes our tour, for the most part,” Contort said, “The rest of these are private rooms and studies for the upper members of the guild. Feel free to relax. Dining room's on the first floor, by the Great Hall.”

“You couldn't have shown me that before?” Joseph asked, “When, y'know, we were on the first floor?”

“Hope you enjoy your time here!” Contort gave a smile, then closed the door, leaving Joseph behind with Phineas. Joseph turned to Phineas, giving a shrug and sitting on the bed opposite his new roommate.

“So,” he said, “You're... a fishman?”

“I am a Deep One,” Phineas replied, “From the plane of Amzuth.”

“Amzuth,” Joseph nodded, “...Nice, I guess. Never been.”

“It is a plane much like your Earth,” Phineas rasped, “A few locations are shared. Massachusetts. Idaho. Human nations, with human names.”

“How long have you been with the guild?”

“I have been with the Amber Foundation for two years now,” Phineas replied, “I am a spellcaster. I use a book. I am reliable enough.”

Joseph sighed, lying down on the bed.

“Does it...” he started, “This gets easier, right?”

“When were you introduced to the multiverse?” Phineas asked.

“Like, yesterday.”

“Oh,” the Deep One went quiet, great fish eyes filming over for a second in what seemed to be blinking, “I have known of the Multiverse for a very long time. Since I was spawned.”

“Lucky you.”

Phineas was silent at that. Joseph relaxed a bit, feeling a bit guilty.

“Sorry,” he said, “I didn't mean to take it out on you, or anything.”

“It is fine,” Phineas said, “Many in your situation were like you. Angry. At me, at the Amber Foundation, at their situation.”

“So my... situation. It's common?”

Phineas dipped his head up and down in a nod, “Yes. Many who are newly introduced to the multiverse join guilds. They often stay, too.”

“Fat chance of me doing that,” Joseph said, “I have a life back home.”

“'In exploration, new meanings made.'” Phineas recited.

“What was that?”

“It is the motto of the Amber Foundation,” the Deep One explained, “Many find they find who they are out here.”

“So what you're saying is, give the guild a chance?”

“Yes. The people here are kind. They give me carrots, instead of meat. Because I am-”

“Vegetarian, yeah.”

“Yes.”

***

The day wore on. Joseph went to the communal shower, and found that the guild had provided him a new change of clothes when he got out. A fresh pair of black jeans, with a blue jacket and a white t-shirt that read, in black letters, “Will Work for Lemonade.” They fit perfectly. Almost too perfectly. Joseph supposed that whoever had gotten them must have magically resized them for his fit. He took the day to explore Castle Belenus, people-watching. He didn't see many people who looked like they came from a plane like Earth. Only Contort, perhaps. Everyone else was in armor or robes, or wore clothing from a century ago. Dinner approached, and the guild members went into the dining rooms. Contort said that Joseph didn't need to be there, however, so Joseph just took a bowl of soup back up to his dorm. Even Phineas was down there, however, so he spent his dinner alone at his desk, watching the sun dip below Scuttleway. The lights of the city began flickering on – guards patrolling the streets began carrying torches, lamps lit up across the city's expanse. Joseph could hear the sounds of laughter far below, echoing up to his dorm. His entry into the Amber Foundation had come without applause. He had hardly been noticed.

Joseph felt horribly alone. He finished the soup, and went to bed, the light of day still in the window.