Abigail stood while tapping away with her foot absentmindedly on the floor. Tapping away as if waiting for an important reservation, body filled with too much unspent energy, energy garnered from many things, too many things. But the one thing giving her the most energy came from the fact that she was witnessing magic. Not the runic kind, that was all to normal, not really magic. No, she was witnessing real magic. Magic she’d only read off in her books, in the thoughts she flew in, in dreams dreamt.

The magic, it wasn’t super special; it wasn’t all that extravagant or amazing. But she had no explanation for it, no idea how it came to be or how it could even exist in the first place. She had seen the toymaker carve the toy, carve the robed man. She’d seen him imprint the rune, knew what it should do, knew that it shouldn’t work and maybe even cause a catastrophic disaster. But none of that had happened. Instead, he’d made the robed man, living, made him alive. And to add onto even that, the robed man could create fire. If that wasn’t magic, she didn't know what was.

Abigail stared as the robed man worked on burning through her chains, the toymaker’s own dangling awkwardly around his arms, freed from the wall. Abigail just having one chain still attached, the other melted away, freeing her from its hold.

Her mind fuzzy, filled to the brim with thoughts flying every which way. Each vying for her attention, none getting it as she had more important things to focus on. One of them being the imminent danger off Noah. She could not say why, but the way Noah had escaped up the stairs, his expression and voice, felt all too alien. All too abnormal to be good. A worrying sign, especially considering what he’s already done to the toymaker.

Then again, it was the toymaker she was being rescued by. The same man who’ve managed to slay monsters with nothing but toys. The same man who had, and still, avoided the queen’s royal knights. A mystery man with mystery objectives, making him even more interesting and cool. Especially for children. A fact Abigail did not like to admit.

With the sound of a metallic pop, the last chain dropped to the ground, partially melted, freeing Abigail’s last restraint. The robed man turned towards the toymaker as the chains clanked to the floor, no visible scarring or burns on his wooden hand. The toymaker himself breathing soundlessly out, turning around towards the stairs, then quickly back, grabbing the robed man and putting him on his shoulder. While he did that, he looked down on Abigail, the two sharing a moment, a moment in each-others eyes. Stopped as the toymaker reached his hand forward, gesturing for Abigail to grab on. His other hand held closed against his chest, slightly tinted red.

As she grabbed, the toymaker immediately guided her up towards the stairs, the robed man on his shoulder, looking down on Abigail. Abigail herself behind in such a way that she could not see in-front of the toymaker, but she could see the robed man. So she did just that, her eyes wanting something to stick too, her mind a energetic mess, needing direction.

The two, no, the three of them walked up the stairs. Rounded stairs, awkward to walk on. Moving by the side, near the bigger parts of the stairs. The toymaker moved awfully slowly, sneaking like a thief at night. Abigail trying not to think, thinking too much. Eyes focused on the robed man, the man who’d made magic out of thin air, now looking down on her, head slightly slanted.

Abigail felt herself slant her own head, the robed man slanting his head to the opposite side. Abigail realizing that the robed man was mimicking her. With one hand firmly holding the toymaker, she used her other to wave. The robed man waved back. She smiled, the robed man seemed to sit straighter on the toymakers back.

Then suddenly, the toymaker stopped. Abigail involuntarily bumping into his back, the robed man almost falling off. Abigail leaned to the side to get a better look, barely discerning that the toymaker was standing in front of the door. She leaned a little further and noticed the perthro rune imprinted on it with the designated text beneath it. The toymaker stood still in front of the door, eye level with the rune, seemingly staring, or maybe thinking. It was hard for Abigail to tell which. She took a moment to think. Quickly realizing that he might think it to be a rune meant for locking the door.

“That’s the rune for silence.”

She whispered, and he tensed at her words. Tense, as if splashed with a bucket of ice-cold water. His hand tensing its hold on her hand, holding harsher rather than gentle. Cold instead of warm. Abigails mind flashing a warning, wondering if he knew something she didn’t. After all, he could make living toys out of nothing but one rune. Maybe that rune was a trap, a trap she was too dumb to realise.

But her fears were for naught. As after a few seconds of weird silence, a silence only broken by small periods of air being swallowed. The toymaker turned his head around and flashed one of his toothy smiles, one that looked nothing like a smile. Then let go of her hand. Something that made her heart immediately skip a beat, but she didn’t say anything. She knew not what awaited them but did not allow herself to be in the toymakers way. Not like last time.

Then he used his good hand and pushed the door open, his other hand held against his chest, closed while looking slightly wet and red. The door opening with a soundless creak, the toymaker quickly peaking left then right. Taking a step forward, Abigail following closely behind. The two now in the corridor. To their left was the exit to the church proper. To their right was Noah’s quarters.

Abigail made sure to stand behind the toymaker, his back comforting, like sitting close to a fire at night. She saw him glancing around the door, down the corridor towards Noah’s office to their right. From the way he was looking, Abigail realized that he was listening closely, trying to hear if Noah was there. Abigail making sure to breathe as quietly as possible. Not quiet enough. Her heart beating louder than the crickets at night.

The seconds ticking by, ticking like the oldest clock, like the bell at midnight. Her body inching closer to the toymakers leg, hand clasped around it, doing it unconsciously. Feeling a feeling she couldn’t quite place. The feeling being torn away as the toymaker turned around, looking down on her while, gently, slinking away from her grasp. A momentary spike of freight, of being left behind, of being left alone crushed her already frightened mind. Something that must have shown on her face as the toymaker quickly used a finger to gesture silence, then ever so slowly pat her head, snuffing her fear away.

Then, he quickly looked towards Noah’s quarters, then back at Abigail. He breathed out soundlessly, then gestured by pointing into Noah’s room, then at himself. Then he pointed at Abigail and down at the ground. Abigail quickly shook her head in refutal, angry that she’d immediately failed her task of not getting in the toymakers way. But she couldn’t help it, her heart would burst if he left.

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Another quick glance towards Noah’s quarter, then back at Abigail. The toymaker stood silent. Eyes closed, twitching around behind closed eyelids, deep in thought. A few seconds later, he opened his eyes, reaching around his shoulder towards the robed man. Then pushing him into Abigail’s hands. Abigail looking down confused, seeing the robed man staring back, waving. Abigail looked up, feeling a hand on her head as the robed man gestured again, this time slower, calmer, waiting for a response.

She looked back at the robed man, then up at the toymaker, pulled the robed man closer to her chest and nodded meekly. The toymaker nodding back, face growing darker, grimmer, eyes like that of a lion. Turning around and taking feathery steps towards Noah’s quarters.

Abigail watching, worrying, breathing quietly yet harshly. Feeling the robed man staring up at her, not looking back, just watching the toymaker. She watched as he neared the door. Watched as he was upon it. Watched as he peeked very slowly, then burst in with the loud smack of wood against stone. Then she couldn’t see him no more.

Silence.

She felt her breathing grow loud, unbearable, unbreathable. She tried, she gawked and waited. Nothing happened, there was just silence.

But before she could panic, before her mind overshadowed her body and filled her with all of her nightly horrors. Something tapped her cheek. With slight alarm, she looked down, being face to face with the robed man. She stared down into his shadowed face, hidden from the world. He continued patting her cheek, and she found it all too humorous not to smile.

Then the toymaker exited the room, a face full of calm, bringing calm to Abigail. Her smile widening, feeling as if the world had nothing against them. A smile fading as she saw the toymaker looking down the corridor. His face widening into one of horror, immediately jumping off into a sprint.

Something pulled her backwards, a forceful tug that hurt, eliciting a painful shriek. The shriek silenced by a soft hand, pushing hard against her mouth. Then a voice she hated yelled out from above her.

“Stop right there!”

Noah’s voice stopped the toymaker in his tracks, staring at Noah above her. Abigail eyes catching the glimmer of something underneath her head, looking down, a knife imprinted with all kinds of runes caught her eye, caught her breath. She looked up again, eyes drinking in every detail, seeing the toymaker standing helplessly in front of her, staring with wide eyes. She pulled the robed man harder against her chest, holding him firmer.

“Fuck!”

Noah screamed, pulling Abigail backwards, away from her only safety. The toymaker standing as if a frozen statue, like his wooden toys.

“How did you get out? Why the fuck did you get out? Fuck fuck fuck! Why is everything falling apart? Why did you have to come? Why would you want to save this fucking bitch-“

He screamed, pushing harder against Abigail’s mouth. Abigail crying out in pain, forcing out a soundless yelp, holding the robed man even harder. The toymaker taking a step forward.

“STOP! I’ll kill her! Fuck! Why the fuck did you have to be the toymaker? You’ve ruined it all! It’s all your fault, it’s all… your fault.”

He screamed, but his voice calmed, calmed as he seemed to realise something. Abigail feeling her sight growing blurry, the toymaker now but a splotch of colour in the distance. She looked down, seeing the robed man staring at her, a droplet falling on his face.

“Aha.. ahaha.. HAHAHAHA!”

Noah started laughing, pushing even harder against her mouth, Abigail closing her eyes even harder, more droplets falling. Heart beating faster. Her primal mind taking over, screaming at her every instinct to flee.

“I see! It is all your fault! You fucking toymaker! Hahahaha! Oh wow. The royal knight, he must have followed you here. The champion too. It all makes sense now. The monster in the woods, probably killed by you, huh? Oh, it all makes sense now. It’s so simple, all so simple.”

His voice soft like an angel, body hard like the devil. Abigail just holding the robed man hard in her hands. Not wanting to die.

“I just have to kill you.”

Noah almost whispered, forcing Abigail’s eyes open, pleading as she stared at the blob of colour she knew to be the toymaker. Her hold on the robed man like that of a drowning man around a floating plank.

“Wow, to think it could all be so simple. Yeah, you just have to die, then everything will be back to normal. Everything will be perfect, everything will be just fine.”

He stated simply, as if realizing that the solution to a hard problem was just in front of him this whole time. The blob of the toymaker standing still, unmoving, frozen. Abigail staring, pleading, fearing the worst.

“Yeah, like that, don’t move or this little lady gets it. By the grace of Carita, just forfeit your life! Oh, isn’t it so simple! Everything will be alright once you die! Carita! I’m going to save this church! I’m-” He started screaming, continued screaming, this time practically beaming, the edge of crazed ecstasy. Abigail just wanting escape, nose and eyes flowing like a waterfall. Flowing faster as she noticed the blob of the toymaker shrinking, as if falling down on his knees. Her frightened eyes growing ever darker, muddier while her hands were preoccupied with holding the robed man.

Eyes heavy like the weight on her chest. Eyes falling down, seeing the robed man reaching his hand for Noah’s hand, the same hand holding the knife. Her eyes following whilst her mind wasn’t. She stared as the robed man placed his hand on Noah’s, Noah not noticing as he screamed gibberish while walking forwards. The robed man then turned to look at Abigail, and his hand started glowing. And she felt the heat radiate onto her cheek like the blast from a smith’s furnace. So swift and hot that one might think a dragon had breathed fire on her face. Then the robed man slumped like a ragdoll in her hands.

“-I’ll make this church grea- AAAAAH”

With a shout and a push, he removed himself from Abigail, throwing her down on the floor, the robed man in her hands. The clatter of metal bounced around the floor, the sound of Noah’s scream like that of a wailing wyvern, footsteps coming from somewhere in front of her. Then she hit the ground with a grunt and a yelp, quickly rolling around until her back met the wall, not far, looking around in a daze. Confused and surprised.

Her vision was still blurry, but she quickly realized that the toymaker hadn’t stayed still. Instead, he had run up to Noah, tackling him as the two was practically thrown across the corridor. Abigail quickly used one of her hands to wipe at her eyes, the other still holding the robed man. Wiping and blinking the blur away, she looked again.

This time seeing the toymaker on top of Noah, his back bent over with his arm coming up and down, up and down upon Noah. She blinked and realized that the toymaker was hitting Noah. Noah’s wailing having quieted, turned to muffled screams of pain as one of his arms tried shielding his face. The other arm laid out to his right, wrist black and sooted, fingers crunched up as if pinching some salt.

Two punches fell upon Noah, but a third missed. Instead, used to balance himself as he was pushed backwards by a thrust of Noah’s leg. Noah himself scrambling backwards, not using his blackened hand, managing to come up on his feet as the toymaker did the same. The two standing, facing one another. The toymakers face obscured from Abigails angle, only his back visible. But Noah’s face was clearly seen, hosting a range of emotions she could only describe as pure fear. Blood trickling down a pulped nose, a mouth hanging open, blood pouring down, a tooth hanging loosely on his cracked lip, one eye already swelling, only capable of seeing through the other.

Noah back peddled whilest the toymaker took slow but steady steps forward, knife emerging from within layers of clothing. Noah almost falling as he walked, wailing all the while, spittle of blood pouring out. He only stopped once his back met the door. Turning around, he quickly tried opening it. The toymaker kept walking, his one hand down by his side, dripping in blood, down onto the knife.

Noah panickly managed to pry the door open, light flooding into the darker corridor, momentarily blinding everyone. Then everyone froze in place as a new voice suddenly boomed.

“What in Caritas name is going on here?”

A man’s voice, loud and commanding. Abigail searched for the voice but could not see beyond the toymakers, and Noah’s back. But what she could see, was a strange sight.

She saw bare feet on a cold church floor.