Not so far from the mouse city sits a tiny house, still very large by mouse standards, sitting next to a small house, which is considered gigantic by those very same standards. A creature lies inside of it, haggard and weary, its light colored fur hanging from the bones, eyes almost perpetually closed, especially right at this moment. It hopes to appear to be asleep, but, sadly, for those with the curse of absolute foresight, hope is a foreign concept.
Another creature sits outside of this tiny house, upright, smiling, quite healthy and vibrant looking, a stark contrast to the ancient canine within, and it grows quite clear (not that it wasn't before, since for a creature such as the canine, all that it ever will experience became immediately obvious upon the moment of birth) that it has no intention of leaving the old dog unbothered.
"Are you going to stay long?" it says in its slow, deep voice. "It hurts to look at you."
A soft chuckle emits from the indescribable yet unremarkable looking felines. "You're not exactly turning any heads yourself these days."
"That's not what I... oh, forget it." the larger creature sighs, paws folded up under its head. By this point in its life, even lifting its head and standing upright is a hassle it rarely wishes to engage in, and knows full well that things will only get worse from here. "How did that little scheme of yours go?"
"Do you really need to ask?" the cat asks.
"Not really. But it feels like the polite thing to do is at least pretend I don't know what you're going to say before you say it."
"You aren't wrong. As you already know, it went quite poorly. It turns out that the host I had picked out had a little more life left in her than I realized. What a pity. I was really looking forward to seeing how a fusion between a mouse and a dark lord would turn out." the feline says.
"I could have told you that in advance, had you bothered to ask. But then, I suppose it's not as though you were even capable of such a thing." the large canine nods... well, sort of. He barely moves, but there is a barely perceptible shift of its brow. "You seem to be in a pretty good mood, despite squandering so much of your resources on a complete failure."
"Of course I am. It still proved quite satisfying, much for the same reason I didn't ask in advance whether it would work, and wished to see it through myself. You know better than everyone how the world works: not everything is to be rated as a collection of wins or losses. As one of the mice I met would tell you, well, she would if she were capable of speaking, experience itself is a precious, precious thing." the feline dark lord grins, lying down on its side, trying to sneak a peak under the heavy eyelids of the dog. "Even if I didn't get everything I wanted, we're living in very interesting times. Why, the fourth should be awakening any day now, correct? Aren't you curious to see them?"
"Of course I'm not. I already know how everything will turn out, and this so-called 'fourth overlord'? Even you know that their appearance heralds the beginning of the end. It is nothing to look forward to. There is nothing to look forward to, period." the pale, wrinkled dog growls, although the sound is little more than a huff, unable to work up the proper enthusiasm to even express real annoyance.
"Beginnings and endings are like wins and losses: Arbitrary and meaningless terms. One way or another, things will always happen. Whether they're good or bad is simply a matter of perspective, but either way, I must say, I'm quite eager to see how it plays out." the feline grins.
"Fool." the canine grunts, even though without opening its eyes, it knows full well that his uninvited guest has already left. "What makes you think that any of us will still be around to see it?"
---
Back at the mouse city, several weeks pass since the trios encounter with the mysterious lord of darkness.
"That will be a hundred crumbs." Jerin says. Even if the size of the mouse has hardly increased at all, in these passing weeks she's grown up significantly, which is hardly surprising. They represent a non-trivial portion of her entire life, after all.
"Wait, I thought it was supposed to be 50?" Frederich says. Unlike the blacksmith, he has hardly changed in appearance at all, older than her even from the beginning, and even now, he just has one of those faces that looks perpetually young. The sort of thing that many would kill for, but others, such as himself, see as more of a curse.
"That was last time. It only had a few nicks in it, then." the small blacksmith muses, holding up the huge axe/hammer/spear fusion, formerly named 'Catherine', since forfeiting that title, for obvious reasons. "It's pretty beat up. You've really got to take better care of it. Are you sure you wouldn't rather try something smaller?"
"Heh, no way! I'm getting way better with it!" Frederich grins, the grin suddenly falling away. "Um, I'm just a little bit short on money at the moment..."
"Allow me." a male voice from behind says. "One hundred crumbs, was it? Please, keep the change." he says, handing a small pouch to the young girl who smiles wide, taking it and counting it out, setting the oversized weapon down on the counter, giving Frederich the mildly annoyed glance reserved for would be customers without any money, before turning back and returning to her work.
"Thanks." The armored mouse, the armor significantly improved from before, the original set having been damaged beyond repair, says to the familiar man standing behind him. "I owe you one."
"More accurately, you owe me three thousand." the new arrival smiles. Roughly the same size as Frederich, with solid black fur, the mouse is a smiling man wearing a long, ornate coat, boots and gloves, somewhat younger than the increasingly experienced adventurer before him.
"Wait, three thousand?" Fred blinks. "That can't be right! There's the hundred here... um, the 150 last week for potions and armor repair... and then you bought me lunch last week..." his spirit falls as he slowly adds up the ever-growing number in his head, and while it's still much, much larger than he would like, he's relieved by the conclusion. "It should be well under a thousand!"
Terrence, the newcomer points a gloved paw towards the newly repaired weapon. "I believe you still owe two thousand to Mia for that axe over there."
"What? Kay-I mean Catherine is the one who borrowed that!" Fred replies. Even after all this time, he still finds himself reflexively calling her by the old, although naturally far newer name than her actual one.
"Yes, and she gave it to you, so it only seems fair that you take on the debt as well." Terrence smiles softly. "I suppose if you absolutely insist, the debt could remain with the original holder, but that hardly seems fair. Plus, from what I hear, she doesn't have the best financial sense."
Frederich shakes his head and laughs. "Heh, yeah, you're not wrong." he says. Even after these several weeks living in the mouse kingdom, Catherine still doesn't quite seem to get the concept of money. "Okay, fine, you got it. I'm on the verge of tracking down an amazing treasure, and I'll pay it all back then."
This isn't the first legendary treasure he's been on the hunt for, of course, not even if the second, if we to count his journey with Kay and Mia. Unfortunately for him, legendary treasures don't exactly grow on trees, and wealth doesn't come quite so easily. "I still think I owe less than three thousand, though." he continues.
"Well, there's no set deadline on these loans." the well dressed mouse says, "But naturally, interest will have to accrue. Nothing personal, of course. It's purely business."
"Yeah, yeah." Fred shakes his head. "Seriously, I can't believe Mia married you."
The newcomer gives a little smirk. "Jealous?"
The armored mouse is about to reply, but stops himself, pausing in deep thought. "Huh, you know what? I think am a little. Heh, Who would have thought?"
"Well, I certainly can't blame you." Terrence nods, his smile gentler now. "She's certainly an amazing woman."
"No argument there." Frederich smiles back.
"Let's go grab some dinner and catch up." the black mouse says, clapping the armored mouse on the back with a gloved paw. Frederich looks to him, warily, before he finishes. "My treat."
"Deal." Fred nods back, unable to resist the prospect of food that won't increase his already substantial debt. He picks up the nameless axe, which, in his mind, he's been calling 'Kay', and walks alongside the other.
The trip to the food stalls is a rather long one, but then it often is these days. Not because the lines to the food markets themselves are long. Well, they are long, but no longer than usual, the issue is the ever increasing congestion around the adventurers guild booth.
"You gained 145 experience points for your last quest! You are now level three, and six thousand, two hundred and fifty-five points from your next level!" a meek and terribly unsure voice behind the desk days. The gruff man in front of it glares at the young girl impatiently. Much younger than Helena, the replacement looks about anxiously, wearing somewhat familiar, ornate garb, but lacking the proper presence to carry it off, instead appearing more like a child playing dress-up.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
As the tension builds, after a few moments, she opens her eyes wide, blushes with embarrassment and squeaks. "Oh, dear! That isn't right... I forgot to carry the two... um... I'd better start again..."
This is followed by a collective groan from the many, many adventurers waiting in the ever growing line.
"Looks like the adventurers guild has fallen on harm times." Terrence says. He isn't wrong. Since Helena's mysterious retirement, something only three mice know the reasons behind (and even Frederich is a little confused at what exactly had happened to her), the number of customers has dramatically decreased, a trend which is doomed to continue in the future, as more and more mice grow wary of the system, many ignoring it entirely, and even the current clientele growing increasingly frustrated with the poorer and poorer service.
"It turns out it's a pretty tough job." The armored mouse says, looking to the girl with a measure of pity. Only after Helena stopped running things did it become clear that the organization wasn't quite the finely oiled machine that it appeared, owing almost all of the effciency to her own personal efforts.
"I can only imagine. Speaking of tough jobs, I've heard that friend of yours, Catherine, has started running an orphanage?"
Frederich can't help laugh. "Yup, it's true. There's an awful lot of kids in these parts who lost their parents. I don't know how she does it, but she seems to be doing a good job of keeping them from running too wid. I guess she's just a good fit for it."
Historically, this has always been an issue with the mouse city. While life expectancy has increased as the city developed, they are still fragile creatures who die quite frequently, and while it's often the smaller and weaker that fall, namely the youngest, that's not always the case. Far from it, in fact. While a harsh place to live in many regards, these unattended youths were not left to starve. Mice would give them food and see to their basic needs, but young mice need a little more than the absolute necessities to thrive.
"So I've heard. Mia has regularly been going there to offer the kids magic lessons... although I'm not entirely sure that teaching a bunch of rambunctious kids that kind of magic is the wisest idea." Terrence says. By 'that type', he means largely combat and destructive magics, which proved to be her speciality, developed through sheer necessity as the trio were forced to stand up against more and more deadly threats.
"How's she doing, anyways?" Fred asks. "I haven't seen her in ages."
Terrence sighs in response. "Neither have I. She's currently on an investigation, studying some ancient ruins with the other mages. After that, she's visiting a distant village to work out a trade agreement. Even when she's in the city, between her work at the university, the library, our store and the countless other little projects she's constantly starting and finishing, it feels like we, just the two of us, hardly have a spare moment together."
"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."
The black mouse smiles to him. "It's alright. While it's true, I would love to spend more time with her, it's good to see her so enthusiastic and full of energy."
Frederich nods in response. He certainly can't deny that she's full of energy. It was his goal to become a great and famous hero. Unfortunately, the past journey didn't quite accomplish that. He tried to shop the tale around to local bards, but nobody really cared very much. It didn't help that Catherine, not a fan of attention, did little to help verify the tale. Some might argue that the massive embellishments in his story made an already difficult to believe tale even less believable, but he insisted that one is expected to exaggerate with such matters.
As for Mia, her exploits were practically legendary. She almost immediately whipped the university into shape, ruling it with an iron fist, forcing cooperation between the different magical departments, and while there was some objection at first, the results were undeniable. New and more powerful sorcerers were being pumped out at an astounding rate, with a constant flow of new innovations and discoveries. That alone would have been enough to make her the talk of the town, but her financial prowess, philanthropy and countless successes in every matter she seemed to pursue made her the envy of every mouse in the city. She hadn't even completely retired from adventuring, even if she has far less time for it, but seemingly every expedition she made resulted in precious treasures or amazing new discoveries.
"How about we make a deal." Frederich says. "You find some way to get that wife of yours to sit still for a couple of hours, and I'll try to do the same thing with Catherine. She might not be quite as busy, but she's still awfully shy around strangers, so it might take some careful scheming, but I think I'm up to the task."
"That sounds good." the black mouse smiles. "I've been quite eager to meet her. Mia has told me so much about her, that it feels like she's already a close friend. It would be really nice for all of us to get together sometime." he pauses. "From what I hear, she's had a difficult life, and Mia wouldn't be the mouse she is today if it weren't for her. It seems like I owe her a great debt."
"Yeah, she did. But, she's a tough one. I don't just mean combat wise, either, although she was pretty scary in that way, too. She seems to be doing pretty good these days, though. She still might not be as talkative as I'd like, but she smiles a lot more than she used to." Frederich stops in his tracks, looking up. "You know, I've been pretty blessed. I was just some dumb kid... hell, still am, probably, and we all just came together for our own selfish reasons. But, both of them were amazing women who made me want to be better. Still do, really, and I'm not going to give up until I live up to the example they set."
"You're better not." Terrence grins. "I'm still counting on you paying back those loans, after all."
"Of course."
"...with interest."
Frederich sighs, shaking his head as he lets out a small chuckle. "Of course."
---
Meanwhile, on the other side in the city sits a small domed structure. It would be an awfully large residence for a single mouse, but, as it turns out, it's quite small for housing so many, not that even a single one of them there would even consider complaining. A tiny mouse girl grabs a shawl and cape from a nearby trunk, rushing past a cream colored woman.
"Be back by dinnertime!" the older mouse calls. "And don't go to the overcity unattended!"
"I know!" the girls answers, just as she runs out the door. Even though it's quite obvious that the warning is not taken seriously, Catherine is completely unconcerned. She knows the older children will take care of her. She steps over to the small, carved out window in the wall, watching the caped youth join up with the others, engaging in their usual rough-housing, arguing and generally noisy behavior, hoping none come back with bruises, bumps on the head or skinned knees, but figuring it's almost inevitable. There will be tears, recriminations, one child insisting they hate the other, the other insisting the same back, and all it will be forgotten by tomorrow, when there is some new part of town they decide they want to explore, and some new adventure to engage in, and the cycle will begin again. Such is the way of youth.
She looks over to the other adult, sitting in a rocking chair next to one of the houses few windows. At first Catherine was concerned that former head of the adventurers guild would eventually wake up and perhaps seek some manner of vengeance, but it's become increasingly clear that whatever it was that was done to her, even the formerly nameless mouse isn't entirely clear on the matter, it's not something she will wake up from on her own. It's similarly difficult to hold a grudge against the woman who broke more of Catherine's bones than she can count, in her current state. She can walk and feed herself, but only sort of. If directed, she'll continue the task, but when left to her own devices will simply sit and stare vacantly, never saying a word or moving of her own volition. Catherine isn't entirely sure how she ended up with this job, but it's clear that someone needs to take care of her, as she dabs a little drool away from the mouse womans cheek, and steps outside.
She runs some clothing through a wash-basin. Mice aren't the cleanliest of creatures, of course, but even they have limits. All of the clothes are assorted donated items, all in very small sizes, as she'd still never really gotten into the habit of wearing it herself. She still just doesn't see the point. That little eccentricity aside, so far as the neighbors are concerned, she is a fairly ordinary citizen. Rather shy and quiet, but many would note that she seems unusually strong for a mouse of her age. In response to this, she just gives a little smile, shake her head, and insist that she isn't that old.
Life is made of countless little pieces, and unfortunately, sometimes these little pieces can be lost forever. The nice thing about the world, however, is that it's made of so many little things, that no matter what is lost, no matter how great and how precious, even if it can never truly be replaced, there are still always new pieces to be found. No matter how broken one may feel at times, no matter how empty, in this wide, vast world, there are always pieces that can fill in those cracks, maybe not perfectly, but well enough that nothing can ever truly be broken beyond repair.
---
"I have good news!" The veterinarian calls in a cheerful voice. She wears a long, white lab coat, hardly necessarily in this line of work, downright inadvisable considering how messy that work can be, but if offers a vision of expertise that puts the often anxious clientele at ease. "Things were a little touch and go for a while there, but the surgery was a complete success!"
The young couple let out a sigh of relief. She is more than a little bit relieved, herself. So many stories in her line of work result in sad endings, that it's always a joy to really make a difference, and help a creature in need. There have been an unusual amount of them, lately, as well. While there are a large number of kennels for overnight patients, it's quite rare for so many of them to be filled. There are just so many wounded pets lately, covered in strange injuries. Sure, they are a lot smaller and a lot less severe, but if she didn't know better, she would swear that the most common wounds she'd been treating lately came from some sort of tiny bullets. "Unfortunately..." she continues, making an effort to maintain her smile as in situations like this, a 'but' can often represent pretty terrible news, "Sir Floofsie got out of his kennel last night, and caused a bit of trouble."
The newly married couple follow her around the corner, but both freeze at the sight before them. Walls, floor, even ceiling somehow are lined with deep craters, covered in shattered plaster and assorted burn marks. In the center of the hall sits Sir Floofsie, body emitting an aura of intense darkness, staring vacantly, softly meowing repetitive words which, of course, none of the humans can possibly hope to understand.
"I'm... so sorry." the young man says, as he takes in the carnage all around.
"Oh, it's no bother!" The vet laughs, "One doesn't get in this line of business without expecting to have to deal with the occasional mess."
Both husband and wife look to one another, suspecting that this wasn't the sort of thing a veterinary clinic would regularly need to deal with, but make a point to not argue that fact. For one thing, the medical treatment of their beloved pet was expensive enough without having to deal with property damage expenses on top of it, and for another, she's the expert. Who are they to tell her what her job should entail?
"Fortunately, he didn't aggravate his wound, but he's been in a realy grouchy mood ever since."
At this, the couple simple smile knowingly to one another. "Oh, that's normal. I've got just the thing to help with that." the wife says as she reaches into her purse. As she pulls out a small plastic pouch, the eyes of the dark lord focus onto her like a laser. Once she gives the blue bag, labeled "Meet Treets!" a shake, all the pain and confusion in the world is immediately forgotten, as the cat eagerly bounds over to his owner, pawing at her leg, and mewling like an excited kitten.
Sure, it hadn't been the best few days. He was brought to this strange place against his will, received brain surgery, got attacked by a group of mice, and was nearly killed by a strangely well dressed rodent woman. Still, as he eagerly munches the brown, chewy globs that are supposed to be shaped like turkey legs (nice and fresh, too, just how he likes them!), it's hard to feel as though life is anything but perfect.