As Monty was clinging to a historic monument near the centre of London, Julie was just waking up from her nap. It had been filled with strange dreams. She had dreamt she was Baxter, sitting on the windowsill and watching the birds flutter through the mist. It was the most vivid dream she had ever had, apart from that one where she fired a melon over the Natural History Museum with nothing but a set of pulleys and levers.
In her Baxter dream, she heard the whole orchestra of sounds impossible for humans to hear, distant footsteps and the flutter of bird wings and even the sound of insects. Though the birds were little more than dark smudges in the smog, she could identify every one of them.
She peeked over, and there Baxter was on the windowsill, keeping guard. She knew he would be. It was like a second arm had sprouted from her body, she could sense his presence. Although rather than a second arm, it would be more appropriate to call it a second tail; or a first tail in her case. His presence was a flicking, lazily writhing thing like his own splendiferous tail.
She needed some exercise, and she could feel that Baxter did too. She decided to go downstairs to the kitchen, where her landlady should be. Baxter leapt down from the windowsill and padded down the stairs after her.
Mrs Ghast was a widower, who rented out a room to Julie. A nice old lady, content to do her own things which suited Julie well. She sometimes held séances and crystal workshops in the house, but those never disturbed Julie, despite her disinterest in the occult “sciences”.
Mrs Ghast was sitting in the kitchen, staring into a book. Even dressed in her house clothes she had an air of neatness and decorum about her. Her grey hair was tied up into a bun, and though her light blue eyes were a little misty with age they were fixed on the book she was reading like Casanova on the arms of a wealthy dowager.
A kettle was on the stove top, freshly boiled by the looks of it. A fat blue-white teapot sat on the table. Mrs Ghast closed her book, placed it down on the table and looked up at Julie.
“Hello my love, you've had quite a nice nap, would you like me to read your future?”
“That sounds awfully nice, but I do have some... things on my mind.” Of course, being a rational minded young lady, Julie had no belief in the occult, but she understood why so many found solace in it.
“Oh, lovey. That's the perfect time to get your future told. Take a seat. I had a couple of adventurers visit me already this morning to have their fortune told.”
“Adventurers?” Julie couldn’t help but smile at that unusual word. Mrs Ghast usually called her friends seekers or searchers. Adventurers was something that Monty would say. Julie tried to shake away the memory of their argument. Perhaps a distraction would be nice.
She sat down across from Mrs Ghast. There was a vibration in the air that she had never felt before.
“I’ve got to Level 2 just by giving readings you know,” Mrs Ghast said cryptically. She opened a kitchen draw and took out her deck of Tarot cards. She manipulated and shuffled them like a surgeon with his tools.
She fanned them out facedown on the table, waiting for Julie to tap six. After six were chosen she nodded approvingly, then set the chosen cards between them, sweeping the rest of the deck away like a conjurer in reverse.
“This is how you feel about yourself right now,” Mrs Garth said. She tapped the back of the first card with her perfectly manicured finger, then carefully flipped it over
“Death. A bit cliché for a first card, but that’s what you picked. Actually the most feared of tarot cards and the most misunderstood. Death really means change. You feel that you've changed like a lot of us have this morning.” Mrs Ghast stared at Julie. Her eyes held a sparkling fascination in them unlike anything Julie had seen before. She was really getting into her role of mystic guide. Julie felt impressed despite her scepticism.
“I’m not afraid of death, actually, it’s a perfectly natural part of life.”
“That’s very good. Now this is what you want for yourself.”
Mrs Ghast flipped the Star, bright stars shining above a woman pouring water.
“A bright future and happiness, these are your dreams, yes?”
Well, that could be said for anyone, thought Julie to herself.
“But these are the fears that may keep you from this goal.” The next card flipped over. The Moon, a big silvery disc in the sky between two stone towers.
“This represents confusion and unhappiness. Lies. We all have illusions that we cover ourselves in. Perhaps you will become charmed by your own lies, or the lies of others. Beware!”
A chill went down Julie’s spine. She should pull herself together, she was just humouring her landlady to take her mind off Monty, she didn’t believe any of this.
“But you do have gifts.”
The next card was Temperance. It showed a familiar gold haired angel, serene faced, pouring water from goblet to goblet.
“This represents harmony, calmness. You have a... special bond?”
Yes, thought Julie, it is a special bond that I have with Monty. Despite our differing philosophies, we do enjoy each other's company. Baxter purred under the table and rubbed against Julie’s shins.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“This is what is pitted against you!”
The World turned over, a card showing a robed Venus surrounded by laurels.
“Yes, these are earthly concerns, but also it represents emptiness. The lack of place. You have no knowledge of your place in the world right now. This will delay you, but the outcome, your future... the last card...” Mrs Ghast held her finger over the last card like a conductor holding a high note on the violin section.
Julie leant forward, she couldn’t help but anticipate it.
The Empress, sitting on her throne and holding her sceptre high.
“Abundance, fertility. You will achieve your dreams and more. We’ve come full circle, from Death to the Empress. She slumped back into her chair, the charge of magic in the air faded.
“Are you okay, Mrs Ghast?”
“I’m fine, just a little tired. A cup of tea will recharge me.”
Julie fidgeted in her chair and looked out of the window. Thick white mist
“You know, Mrs Ghast, I do believe there's something strange in the air. The mist outside...”
“Yes, I’m sure you want to go out and do some adventuring yourself, explore your new abilities.”
Julie smiled politely and nodded. “Yes, I do think I need to get some fresh air.”
More to be away from the strange feeling that Mrs Ghast was emanating than anything else, she excused herself and went into the hallway. She needed some fresh air.
Baxter was already stalking back and forth by the front door. She put on her shoes and hat, grabbed her walking stick without thinking, then scooted out the front door. Baxter slipped out besides her, winding through her legs and then jumped up onto the garden wall.
Outside the view was most romantic. Mist curled around the front columns of the terraced houses, and the end of the road looked like it could take her anywhere.
She would make for Brompton Cemetery. Perhaps a walk through its grounds would clear her head. There was always peacefulness among the tender monuments and well kept grass. She took a look at her walking stick. It was a solid dark wood, with a silver top in the shape of a cat’s face. But she didn’t have a walking stick, and neither did Mrs Ghast! Well she could use it for now and return it, it must be a visitor’s. It did feel perfectly made for her.
As she came to the main road, she saw a terrible sight. An older lady lying on the ground outside one of the larger townhouses. Two enormous dogs were menacing her. Without any thought for her own safety, Julie ran towards the woman.
She saw that in some bizarre fancy dress fashion, the dogs had been dressed up with wings and beaks. The wings even flapped in the misty air as they growled at their helpless victim.
“Help me, help me!” cried the woman.
Julie leapt in between the two dogs and the old lady. She beat her stick on the pavement to drive them back.
“Oh, thank you, thank you very much,” the lady’s voice no longer had any panic. In fact, it seemed rather pleased with itself. Like a social club gossip, who had spread a piece of juicy rumour about their rival and had heard it come back to them. Very satisfied.
Julie saw that the dogs, against all reason, were not in fact fancy dressed dogs. They were the two stone griffons of the fancy house’s gates. In fact she could see the two empty columns where they should be sitting. It was impossible!
The supposed victim rose and manoeuvred behind the two griffons. Julie recognised her at once, despite the fact that she was dressed in hunting gear more suited for the countryside.
“Mrs Winthrope-Corden! We said hello at the Post Office just the other day.”
“That’s all changed, the old world has been left behind. There will be no more pleasantries exchanged at the Post Office, the era of genteel manners and curtained smiles has died. I don’t know what this new era will bring, but I’m going to level up as much as possible.” She stroked the head of the two griffons, they were the size of labradors and looked just as loyal.
It must be said that across London there had been many responses to the introduction of the System. Disbelief, displays of mania, even disappointment at selected classes. Mrs Wingthrope-Corden’s response was one of disquieting glee, seen usually amongst the upper classes. Used to following the abstract social rules of the day, the introduction of another set of rules was easy for them to latch onto. Especially when it allowed them to let loose their baser instincts which had previously been kept in check by dinner party norms and social mores. The more strict the person and the more slavish their dedication to England’s social structures, the more ironically likely they were to start roaming the streets and player-killing. Suffice to say that the most dangerous place to be when the System arrived was anywhere near to a church with a Bowls Club.
Julie was a sceptic, but quick witted. This was the second time somebody had mentioned levelling up this morning, and she recalled the words she had seen earlier.
Mind Level 1: Analyse Beast.
Well these things were surely beasts. She activated her ability, and plucked information about the griffons from the ether. Time was frozen for her as she read the details
Stone Griffon Level 3 Beast. Health: 30 Mana: 10
Weaknesses: blunt damage
Weak spot: head
Time started again.
“Enough gabbing, girly, it’s time we finished our little tete-a-tete so I can hunt down my next victim. Attack my pretties!” She lifted her hunting horn and blew.
The griffons leapt forward at the sound. There was the sound of a high speed cat passing, and Baxter leapt into the face of one of them. It wheeled away from the blow, but the other was headed straight for Julie.
“I don’t like violence, but this is really more like discipline.” She rapped her walking stick on its head. There was a terrible cracking sound and it dropped to the floor. Its wings drooped, and a crack appeared in the centre of his head.
“My griffon! You insolent strumpet.” Mrs Winthrope-Corden lifted her hunting horn. Before she could blow, Baxter came back to the rescue. He leapt up, entangling himself with the horn and hunter. There was much yowling and hissing, some of it from Baxter.
Meanwhile the other griffon had turned its attention back to Julie. She was ready with her walking stick, another stout blow dropped that one to the ground.
“I’m most disappointed in the both of you!”
The two griffons hung their heads even lower.
“You’re supposed to be guardians of the home, not mouse-catchers of pedestrians.” Julie straightened herself up.
Mrs Winthrope-Corden was rolling on the ground, trying desperately to shield herself from Baxter’s claws.
“Baxter, that’s enough.” He hopped obediently onto her shoulders.
Mrs Winthrope-Corden lurched to her feet and ran sobbing through the open gates to her home. They shut with ominous screeching. The two stone griffons turned and leapt back up onto their perch.
“Whatever should I do now?” Julie mused. She should tell the police, but if Mrs Ghast and Mrs Wintrhope-Corden were anything to go by, everybody had gone a little bit funny.