Going back down the hallway and into the large circular room, Scott turned to his right, leading us into the next hallway. A few meters in, Scott opened a door on the left. Inside was a large wall of books. Unlike Mordred’s mess of a desk, these books were put in a condensed and controlled space of carefully structured bookshelves. The books lining the shelves lacked a single speck of dust on them, and the only books that weren’t on shelves were sitting on a small table near the door. The room itself was like a maze of these bookshelves. There was a bookshelf in front of us that connected to the wall on the right, with only a small gap on the left side between the shelf and the wall. Lining both walls to the sides were even more bookshelves. Walking to the left, we curved around the shelf, to see that there was another bookshelf running from the left wall outward with a small gap on the opposite side.
Continuing through this zig-zagged path, we arrived at an open space where a young woman sat at a desk with her head buried in a book. A teapot sat beside her on the desk, steam rising from the spout, with a single cup of equally steaming tea sitting on the other side of her desk. She didn’t seem to notice us at all as we piled in, similar to Merlin when we entered Mordred and his office. Strangely, she was motionless. It was as if she was a statue rather than a person.
“Mary? Are you dead?” Scott asked, knowing that was not the case. The woman let out a pained sigh—a common reaction to Scott, apparently—before lowering the book from her face to reveal her black hair, death-like expression, and tired demeanor. She didn’t look much older than thirteen or fourteen, but she had bags under her red eyes like she hadn’t slept in years.
“Of course I’m dead; I’m a vampire. Now, what do you want, Scott?” Mary asked with an annoyed look that seemed to cause her pain by doing so.
“We need to know how to kill a Willowisp. If you don’t happen to know anything, then we could always ask your husband,” Scott said, cutting straight to the point. Though, his last comment was obviously to get under her skin. He could feign ignorance easily if she got mad, but it was still harsh. Mary gave him a hateful glare, but it was hard to tell what she was thinking. Her face wasn’t the most expressive, but she looked like she was physically trying to be.
“I think I have something on Willowisps somewhere in here. Though, you should know that that man is more like my ex-husband now,” Mary said without any sign of remorse. Setting her book on her desk, Mary stood up with a blank face, as she tried to think about where the documents would be. For some reason, I felt as if there was a loading symbol spinning around in her head for a second.
“Oh, really?” Scott said, pretending to be surprised. His reply snapped her out of her mental daze, causing her to start re-taking in the room.
“Yes,” she said, rolling her eyes, before realizing that Elysif and I were standing beside Scott. “And who are these two, Scott?” she asked with a somewhat forced look of intrigue.
“This is Elysif, You should have already met her, though I may be wrong about that,” he said, gesturing at her. “And this is Lou, my apprentice.”
“Well, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she said with a nod, before shuffling over to the bookshelf on her right. Waving her hand over a few of the books, she skimmed up, down, and between shelves, before removing a book. “Here it is!” Mary exclaimed in a monotone voice.
“What is it?” I asked.
“A book of Fae and Fae types based on Table field studies over the past five hundred years,” she said, flipping through it, before stopping on a page somewhere towards the end. “Here we are.”
“Alright, what does it say?” Scott asked, before pulling out his flask and taking a swig. She gave him a look of disdain, but decided not to say anything.
“Nothing of use. Those, Knuckle dragging, curs, I bite my thumb at the, elephant faced, asshat, pieces of shit,” she shouted obscenities from what was at least a few different generations. Scott just stood there, but Elysif and I were a bit weirded out by the strange amalgamation of words she just spewed.
"“What do you mean by nothing of use?!?!”” Elysif and I asked. Scott just shrugged as if he expected there to be nothing.
“I mean that there is nothing useful. They barely included the creature's weakness. Just what kind of field agent doesn’t write down proper details?” she said, showing us the page.
On one page was a horrifying sketch of a creature that looked like it came from a creepypasta. It had the skull of an elk, whose eyes glowed yellow, for a face. Both its arms and legs were as thin as bones, but as black as night. The body looked as if it were starving, because all of its ribs were showing, but it was covered in jet black latex-like skin, all except for its skull head. To finish off the creepy aesthetic, it had hair down to its waist that resemble the branches of a weeping willow.
The page beside it read as follows:
“Year 1712, June 8th. Day 3 of our search for an unknown creature:
We have come across a creature that does not die from silver for reasons we cannot explain. However, we have found that it can be harmed with iron. We believe it to be of Fae origins, and despite its physically lacking body structure, it is quite strong. The beast can blend into the forest-scape with ease during the night, making it hard to track. We will continue to observe it for more information.
Day 12:
The creature has attacked a child in the woods and attempted to eat it with a mass of tentacle-like appendages that hide under its skull. The five Agents with me, prevented the child’s death, but the beast killed three of them before fleeing into the dense woods.
Day 14:
It attacked us in the night as if it was hunting us, waiting to strike like a common predator. It killed the other two Agents. I was able to escape when it stopped to count the sugar and salt that had spilled from our ration bag during the fight. Its speed is immeasurable, and its strength is enough to rip a man in half. If you see one of these creatures, DO NOT FIGHT IT, RUN, and pray that it didn’t see you. I have dubbed this being the Willowisp after its long Willow branch-like hair, and the Fae known as Wisps, for its ability to hide.
~Agent Mora Seld, Rank Five Star.”
“Jesus Christ!” Elysif exclaimed in shock. She and I must have had the same thought about this job being too much for us.
“Welp, now we know what we are gonna be fighting,” Scott said casually. He sounded as if he were completely unafraid of such a beast.
“We are not fighting that thing,” I said, trying to deter him from this mission.
“You’re right, we aren’t. We're fighting several of those things,” Scott said with a heinous grin.
Scott swiftly and yet ungracefully strutted off back through the maze of bookshelves with only a wave of his hand to say goodbye back at Mary, even though she couldn’t see it. “Thank you for your help, Mary. I’ll see about getting you some fresh blood when I’m done with this job,” he said. Elysif and I quickly followed behind him through the maze of books.
“That’s unnecessary, since I don’t need human blood,” Mary yelled back so that Scott could hear her, as she placed the book back on the shelf where she had pulled it from.
“I know. Though I also know that you like it better,” Scott yelled back, unprofessionally, from the entrance to the maze, before pushing open the door and holding it open for us. Once we had gone through the door and Scott had let it shut, I turned to him.
“What are you thinking? We are going to get ourselves killed,” I practically yelled at him, with fear in my eyes and feeling pretty rational for it. Elysif nodded in agreement as she too thought this was a suicide mission. Scott cocked his head to the side, then looked down at the ground, before he started chuckling.
“Were either of you paying attention?'' he asked with a humoured smile. We both looked at him like he was going insane. before he spoke again. “She just told us the Willowisps' weakness,” Scott said in response to our expressions. Despite this, we both continued to look at him like he was insane.
He couldn’t help but sigh at our lack of attention, “Salt and sugar have been used to distract Fae for centuries. Despite Willowisps being made of humans and animals, they are still Fae, and have the same instinct to count those grainy chunks no matter how much peril they’re in. It’s why no one has ever seen a Fae outside of the British isles. If they saw the beach, then they would probably spend an eternity counting every last grain of sand. Well, with the exception of the Nuckelavee,” Scott explained.
“Does that mean that you're going to kill them by first having them count salt or sugar?” Elysif asked with a belittling look as if she thought the idea was stupid. It was most definitely a stupid idea, though.
“Absolutely,” he replied with a smug grin, ignoring Elysif’s look.
“Well then, you can count me out,” Elysif proclaimed, marching away, but was stopped when Scott grabbed the back of her shirt's collar.
“Nope, you’re coming with us. Remember, you wanted to come with us, and your train ticket wasn’t free. Plus, if you aren’t there, then who’s gonna heal us when we get hurt?” Scott said with what I could swear was a threatening aura.
“But I don’t want to die!” she said, scared and desperate. Shaking her head, she backed away a bit for emphasis.
“Then, don’t die,” Scott said, before letting her go and opening the door across the hall from Mary’s. I felt a little left out of the conversation, but I agreed with Elysif. I didn’t want to die either, and it was a terrible plan. I just hoped that it would, well… work.
“Arbus! My old undead friend. How are you?” Scott said as he entered the room. Rather than being alone, there were two men in the room. One looked to be around fifteen or sixteen with red eyes and dirty blonde hair. Not only that, but he shared the same pale complexion as Mary, and a face that showed even less emotion than she did. The boy wore a loose black suit, with the top three buttons of his shirt undone, and no tie. Despite our loud entrance, he barely seemed to acknowledge us as we came in. The other man, on the other hand, did notice us, and quickly turned to look at us with shock in his glaring eyes.
He had dark black skin, and was dressed in a brown suit with short black hair. Unlike Scott, this man seemed to carry himself with a sense of dignity and pride similar to Director Langston. Though he was in a bit of shock from Scott bursting in, that turned into a frown the moment he actually saw Scott. I don’t know what their history was, but it seemed like a lot of people didn’t like Scott. How he managed to stay an agent of the Table for this long was beyond me.
The room itself was similar to Mary’s room in size, but instead of bookshelves stacked in a maze, it was open, with wooden filing cabinets on each wall, with a desk in the center of the room. A few files lined the desk, along with some writing utensils and a typewriter. Other than the cabinets, there were some small paintings that resembled sunny beaches from different parts of history. It was almost as if he chose them out of a desire to visit them.
“Why don’t you ever greet me properly, you drunk ass?” The dark-haired man asked Scott whilst seeming jokingly offended. Although there was some dissatisfaction with Scott’s introduction, he also seemed to be happy to see him.
“Ten? You’re still here? I would have thought you would have left on another mission by now,” Scott said, confused. He also did not want to admit that he was happy to see his brother. They both knew it, but they also respected each other enough to hide it for the other's sake.
“For the last time, it’s COMPTON! And I am on a mission, one that is top secret,” Compton yelled, losing his patience. The moment Compten heard the old nickname that Scott knew he hated, Compton couldn’t help but lose his composure.
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“It didn’t sound so top secret when you told me,” the younger man said with a bit of sass that could not be expressed in either his tone or his facial expression, but instead, in his delivery. Compton shot him a glare, a threat for him to shut up.
“You told Arbus but you're not willing to tell me? I’m hurt that you think of me as less of a friend than Arbus,” Scott said with a sadly dramatic flair that only seemed to make things a bit awkward for everyone.
The two continued to argue with each other, along with the occasional butt in from Arbus. I felt as if we were witnessing some drama that didn’t concern me and I should avoid. Elysif was apparently thinking the same thing, since we both backed out of the room quietly and shut the door slowly. Once the door was shut, we both let out a deep sigh, before looking at each other. Neither of us wanted to be a third wheel in that mess.
“We should probably leave them be. Scott and Uncle Compton will probably want to talk for a bit,” Elysif said.
“Agreed…” I said. Then I realized what she had just said and became a bit confused. “Wait, uncle?”
“Yeah. Scott and Compton were raised together, so they’re like brothers. I just call him Uncle because it’s easier,” Elysif explained.
“I see, that makes sense. Though it seemed like they weren’t on the best of terms,” I replied.
“That’s just how they are. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them actually mad at each other,” Elysif stated.
“Okay. Well, that’s good,” I said. After that, we began wandering back toward the large circular room. One thing about what she said stuck with me though. It was gonna eat at me until I knew, so I quickly asked, “One thing. You refer to Compton as your uncle, but he’s Scott’s brother. Does that mean that you see Scott as a father?”
Elysif tensed up at this question. Though she seemed more surprised by the question than bothered by it. With a poorly forced smile, she answered, “He’s more like an older brother to me. Though, when Silva was still alive, they treated me like a daughter. After that, though, Scott grew colder.”
“... I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” I said, getting quiet. The awkward silence between us as we continued strolling around allowed me to think a bit. I know I was trying to have a good conversation, but I just made it bring back bad memories.
“I wonder where we are staying for the night? I’m getting rather tired,” Elysif asked as we roamed, breaking the silence.
“I don’t know, but I’m getting tired too. Maybe Scott’s father-in-law can help us find a place?” I replied. Perhaps she was just letting it go? I hoped so.
“What can I help you with?” a voice said from behind. It shocked Elysif and me to the point where we both jumped forward. Then we both realized it was Scott’s father-in-law, Aaron.
“You scared us there. We were wondering where we might be staying for the night. Maybe you could help us?” Elysif asked.
Aaron thought for a moment, before finally answering, “There is a fine hotel run by a Witches Coven that is on good terms with the Table. You could stay there,” he said as he stroked his chin.
“Is there anywhere else?” Elysif asked awkwardly.
“Oh, right. I forgot about your issue with Covens, Elysif, and I was wrong to offer it. There might be a few spare rooms in the main Castle. I could ask, if you would like.” he replied apologetically.
“It’s fine. Please ask for us, if possible,” she replied with a slight bow. He bowed in return, and stepped away. Stopping mid-step, he turned back to us. “Oh, and before I forget. Lou, I believe you still only have a knife as your weapon. If you would like, you can go to the armory and find yourself a better weapon now that you’re an official agent.”
‘Thank you, I will,” I replied, smiling with a thankful nod, and he continued his advance down the hall. What a nice man.
Not long after Aaron had left, we realized that I had forgotten to ask where the Armory was, and to top it off, Elysif didn’t know where it was either. She and I wandered around for a bit, trying to ask where the armory was from any person we came across. Some gave us horrible directions, while others ignored us. In our search, we found several offices, storerooms, and even a ballroom of sorts. I’m pretty sure the ballroom was actually a training room that doubled as an event room or something like that, but I had no clue. We eventually found the armory, along with an older man that wasn't too happy to have us waltzing into his workplace unannounced. There wasn’t much in the armory other than a few shelves stacked with boxes that were all labeled differently, and a counter to separate people from it. On the side of the armory opposite the counter, was a smithing area where a furnace and anvil sat cold, with several tools hanging on the wall next to it.
“Hello, I am a new agent of the Table and was told to come here for a better weapon by Director Langston,” I said to the man at the counter, showing him my badge.
“What exactly do you need? Weapons change depending on what you’re trying to take care of. That, and where you are. Some weapons you want to conceal, and others you want to be exposed,” the old man said.
“I’m not sure what weapon I want. I have this silver dagger, but I need something made of Iron for dealing with Willowisps, and also something silver for anything else I come across. Though I would like to still be able to use it in London,” I explained.
He pondered for a second, before pulling a box off the shelf. Then, he opened it up to reveal a six-shot revolver with a detachable silver blade on the underside of the barrel. With it, he gave me an iron blade to replace the silver one whenever I needed to. Beside it, he set a box of iron bullets and another with silver bullets. It would work perfectly if I knew anything about guns other than from the video games I played. I guess I would have to figure that out pretty soon. While I was admiring the craftsmanship of the gun, he set a leather holster with a slot to hold the extra blade next to it.
Elysif also asked for a coat with Iron thread sewn into it. He asked her size, and then got her the coat from another shelf. I wish I could have gotten one of those, but sadly, he didn’t have any in my size. The old man then held out his hand covered in burn scars. “Your badge, please,” he said as if it were a business transaction. Taking my badge out, I handed it to him, but I was unsure as to why he needed it. The old man looked at the badge and shook his head.
“How much experience in battle do you have?” he asked with a sympathetic look.
“I killed a changeling with a coin and got stabbed in the gut. I’ve also been beaten up a lot by Scott Langston,” I answered honestly. Elysif gave me a look that told me I said too much, but I’m sure that the old man knew I was joking… kind of. The old man let out a grumpy sigh, before reaching under the counter and pulling out two tiny metal stars.
“If you’re with Scott, then you should be fine. The man is a capable warrior. Though we can’t have a one-star agent going against something like a Willowisp. The higher-ups don’t like having to explain to our patrons that, because we are short-handed, we keep sending low-ranking members on dangerous missions to fill the ranks, so we’ll promote you two stars today,” the old man said with a smile of his condolences.
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I just looked from him to Elysif and back to him, concerned. Ignoring my reaction, he quickly pinned the stars to the top of the metal badge. With a quick slap of a hammer, the stars were set in place. Then, pulling a piece of paper and a stamp pad from under the counter, he began listing out the equipment with a quill-tipped pen. Once he had the items listed out, the old man placed my badge on the stamp pad and stamped the bottom of the paper with it. After stamping it, the badge was wiped off with a wet rag and handed back to me.
“The items are yours now. However, if you leave the service of the Table, then we will require those items back. If any of it is destroyed or lost, then you will have to submit a lost item report so that we don’t try tracking you down for an item that is no longer in your possession. Do you understand?” the old man asked as if he were tired of saying it so often. After doing so, he rested his arm overtop of the equipment. The aura radiating off him sent a chill down my spine. It wasn’t a threatening aura, though, this was the aura of a battle-hardened warrior. It was so chilling, in fact, that Elysif and I looked physically drained.
“Of course,” I agreed. He nodded his head, and stepped back from the counter so we could take our equipment. As he did, his aura subsided and we felt normal. Was it magic? No way, that was just pure charisma.
“Then, till we meet again, fellow warriors…” The old man nodded and returned to what he had been doing before we arrived.
Somewhat… satisfied, we left the Armory, only to bump into Director Langston again. Telling us he found an open room for us, the Director led us there. Once the Director got us settled in, he left to find Scott, while Elysif and I had to figure out the solution to another dilemma. Who was going to sleep where?
There was a single oversized bed and a small hardwood couch in the room, but there were three of us. We decided that since Scott wasn’t there to speak his opinion, he didn’t get a choice in the matter. The couch was practically all hardwood except for a thin red cushion on the seat. Neither of us wanted it, so it came down to a mutual agreement; that Scott would get the couch and we would share the bed. However, it was made very clear that Elysif would dissect me and not put me back together if I crossed into her side of the bed. And here I thought we had a bonding moment by avoiding Scott and his family issues.
Scott didn’t arrive at the room till about eleven that night, and immediately kicked me off the bed, waking me up in the process of falling onto the rug-covered stone floor with a flat thud. I groggily sat up from the floor, holding my back from where I just fell on it. As I did, Scott trudged over to the couch sitting in front of the bed with a slight chuckle and drunkenly fell onto it, where he promptly fell asleep. Since there was no point in making a fuss, I simply called him a dick and slothfully laid back on the bed.
As I awoke the next morning, the only sound that could be heard was the groaning and moaning of an aching Scott. Because of the noise, Elysif begrudgingly got up to get one of the bottles of liquor that she knew he packed, only to find that none of our bags were there. She looked around with a confused and tired look, as Scott continued to groan louder.
“What’s wrong?” I asked Elysif as I got up. The bed was a lot nicer than my own, which made me start to feel bad for Scott due to the sleeping arrangement. His pained groans and moans only made it worse. Though his groans and moans quickly turned to just moans, and then moans of a sexual nature, making me realize that he was just fucking with us, and all my guilt dissipated, so I just ignored him.
“Our bags… We left our bags on the Train,” Elysif said as if she had just completely given up. In response to this, Scott immediately stopped moaning and sat straight up.
“My booze…” Scott said in the same depressed fashion as Elysif. Then his gaze shot up with hope. “… I can raid my father in-laws' liquor cabinet.”
“What?” I said with an arched brow and squinted glare. Had I heard him right? I didn’t know, but he got up and meandered out of the room and down the hall.
Having nothing else to do, we equipped the new items we received from the old man and strolled back into the basement of Warwick Castle to look for Director Langston. There was the possibility that he could help us obtain some spare clothes before we left. Though, neither Elysif nor I knew when we were leaving. As we were looking about, we bumped into Arbus, who had been looking for Scott or ourselves.
Unlike yesterday, the vampire wore an oversized shirt and slippers rather than his nice clothes. Instead of allowing conversation us, he strutted up to Elysif, handed her a single piece of paper, and said, “Give it to Scott when you see him next.” before scuttering off. The only thing that I could read from his body language was that he was tired.
Looking over the paper, Elysif found that it was a small list of ways the Table had dealt with Willowisps in the past. It contained three things, stabbing it through its heart with anything iron, anywhere sandy, and surrounding the beast with iron dust so it can’t escape. Elysif thought all of those ideas were rather stupid, while I found them simple, yet genius, albeit the fact that these were the only ideas that the table had both used and successfully worked against Willowisps, made us both worry a tad bit more.
Eventually, we did manage to locate director Langston. Though, he was rushing around frantically, looking for some materials that had been requested by another director. Because of this, upon seeing us, he strutted over to us with a professional, but obviously forced, smile, and tucked his arms behind his back, “What can I do for you two? Had you had everything you needed, I was sure that Scott would have had you to the train station by now,” he said as he pulled out the pocket watch from his waist pocket, and looked at it for an added effect of tardiness shame. We didn’t know we were tardy about anything, so we didn’t mind.
“We accidentally left our luggage on the train and have no spare clothes. Would you happen to have any spare clothes that we and Scott may borrow?” Elysif asked with a professional composure. There was no way to prevent her from sounding like a grandchild asking their doting grandparent for a favor. It was kind of adorable to watch, even though she had a serious tone and demeanor the entire tim
“I see. Can I assume that Scott is currently raiding my liquor cabinet...?” Director Langston asked with an expected huff. “Alright… Go to my quarters and in the chest are some of Silva’s old clothes. Some of it may fit you. As for Mr. Barrett, I have some spare shirts and pants that may fit.”
“Thank you so much,” I replied, honestly thankful that I didn’t have to spend our entire trip to Haringey without a spare change of clothes.
“You’re both very welcome. Also, Elysif, keep an eye on Scott for me. Keep him out of trouble… and out of the expensive bottles in my liquor cabinet,” he said with a proper smile this time.
“That may be difficult, but I’ll do my best,” Elysif replied. They both had a little chuckle over this, since both knew that they could neither predict nor expect anything that Scott did.
Heading back upstairs to where the room we slept in was, Elysif led me further down the hall to a door marked with a do not enter sign on it. The door was slightly ajar, and inside, we found Scott, who was actively drinking some Chateau Margaux with a mix of disgust and pleasure. Elysif quickly took it from his lips, much to his displeasure, and read the year 1787 on the bottle with a petrified expression. Since there was little to none left, she shrugged and drank some of the contents before handing it to me.
“This bottle was worth more than our building in London. Director Langston is gonna be mad at Scott about it anyways, so you may as well try some,” Elysif said. Scott just stood there with a dumbfounded look, as he questioned whether or not Elysif actually took that bottle from him. Though he quickly stopped caring, and returned to the liquor cabinet for a bottle of brandy.
Within the hour, we had borrowed some clothes, eaten some breakfast, and were headed to Haringey by train, which was great for everyone, except Scott, who couldn’t keep anything down. By the time we had arrived in Haringey, Scott was looking like a ragdoll in the wind. He kept saying gibberish and chuckling to himself like he was actually drunk. We ended up dragging him and the few things we had to a nearby inn, where we chucked Scott on one of the beds and enjoyed a meal, before heading up to take a nap ourselves.
The inn was a large rustic cottage, with cobblestone taking up half of the first floor's walls, and a mix of wood and plaster taking up the rest of the wall space. The inn was also set up with a second story containing four rooms. The entire lower floor was a pub for the locals, with a large room for the innkeepers. In the back right corner of the lower floor was a large cobblestone hearth, with several tables scattered around. Near the hearth, on the left side of the room, was the bar, where the innkeeper was busy cleaning glasses, while across the room, was the staircase leading upstairs, and behind it were two doors, one leading out back, and the other that accessed the innkeepers room. Behind the inn were a fenced yard and a separate building that held the kitchen