Imperial Forclousure

by The Sound of Loneliness

Long Way From Home

"Uhh..." the stallion groaned, as someone kept poking him in his sleep.

"Map!" the demanding voice reached him.

"Aghhhh!" he groaned, his eyes opening but he quickly squinted them again at the light.

"Map!" another demand was accompanied by a poke.

"Ah, dammit. I hoped you were a dream," he groaned again and tried to stand up from his straw bed.

"Map!" the tiny foal demanded for the third time. The Merchant ignored it for the moment and tried to make out where he was while trying not to look at the light too much. He was in someone's barn, judging by the walls and heaps of straw everywhere. He then looked at himself. His attire was more or less ruined, covered with dirt and straw from the floor. He had trouble remembering too much of what happened yesterday and just how did he end up sleeping in this barn, but from how much his head hurt he could tell that the night was much more fun than he could suspect it would be. The foal next to him he remembered though, the foal that told him he wasn't a foal at all and that he murdered three adult workers at the same time by snapping their necks. No wonder he had to have a round. "Map!" the demand was becoming frustrated.

"Agh... not so loud..." he cringed. "Fine, let's go get your map." He moved to the opened entrance on unsteady hooves, the light starting to hurt less. "Honestly, I thought you'd steal it by now. It doesn't seem to be a problem for you." He looked down at the foal to see her reaction to his jab. The foal was quiet for the moment.

"Better this way," he answered not looking him in the eye. The adult stallion snorted loudly and shook his head but didn't say anything.

Leaving the remarkably cosy barn behind they made their way back to the trading wagon, still on the street nearby. The village people had no business tampering with it. The map was still where he left it yesterday. "Do you even know how to read a map?" he asked without much hope.

"Read?" she sounded a little confused.

"Yeah, read. Cause maps aren't like pictures, you need to make sense of them, to read them."

"To read?" The stallion hit his forehead with a loud slap and groaned slightly.

"Yes, when you are looking at it and... wait, you don't know what reading is?" the sudden realisation hit him.

"No."

"Really? You don't know how to read words?"

"No," she added a little shook this time for emphasis.

"...Oh, dammit. I remembered how I got into that barn. Look, honestly, this doesn't sound like a good idea. It's a long way and you are going to get lost."

"You promised!"

"Well, yeah I did," the stallion uneasily agreed. "I am just saying that you might want to think a bit on what are you about to do. There isn't always people you can steal food from along the way, you know."

"I won't get lost."

"Ugh... Okay, fine. How's this: I'll come with you and show you the way?" He wasn't quite sure where he was going with this yet, but letting a foal, even if it wasn't quite a foal, felt like something he wouldn't be able to sleep over. He didn't quite plan to head that way again this soon, but there was no reason why he couldn't. He wasn't one of those domestic nibblers who rolled across the same few counties where he knew everyone for years. No, he was a risktaker.
The foal eyed him with suspicion, but he could tell the idea had an appeal to her.
"How about it? I'll teach you to read too, and count."

"Count?"

"It's how you can say how many there is of something," the foal gave him another quizzical look. "Come on, I'll get into clean clothes, we'll stay until midday, see if anyone wants to buy something and then we'll go. I'll be teaching you to count while we are at it, deal?"

Well, he never really got the answer, but no longer needing to hear demands for the map was evident enough. After that though, he did as he said. He really did only stayed for a moment, a few ponies came asking about the foal he was seen with and they told him how effortlessly they could lift in the air a log that took several ponies to even lift. In that context lying to whatever this foal really was didn't sound like a very smart idea. As soon as the lumberers were away again, the foal returned again.

He tried to teach them about money and how to count them, but it turned out a lot harder than he thought it would be. Teaching a small foal that never was a day in school was not quite on the list of his qualifications. Despite having the prodigious talent for magic, one rare even in the unicorn tribes that he visited, it seemed that spellcasting was totally instinctive for them rather than learned. He made a note to try and find some books for foals next time they are in a town with a proper shop.
He also explained to her how maps work and what are the directions. It went better than counting, even if it took a little effort. Tiny, as he started to call them, still had issues with the concept of cardinal directions, but she did understand after he let her play with his compass. Even though she didn't quite understand how it worked.

As he promised, he took off after the midday and set on the same road he came from, it would've been better if he could take some of that glass with him on the way back, but not a huge loss. On the way he mostly kept silent, their first day together ending with a night's sleep. He wanted to see if she ever spoke on her own and not when she needed something. On the second day, it became obvious that she was a silent one. He tried talking to her first, asking her if she saw anything nice back in the waggon, but he still ended up talking to himself most of the time, she was a grateful listener if anything.

He was a little surprised that they even took the offer. Tiny turned out much less skittish than he thought, he was almost brazen, actually. If something caught her attention, she was quick to investigate, even if he didn't give her his permission. She didn't seem to want any of his actual things though. She didn't like sleeping next to him, so he made her an improvised hammock out of a spare sheet and hanged it under the roof. Quite cosy. She liked that too, she slept snuggly there with her old plush she carried everywhere with her. He asked her once about it, she said it was the foal's. He also finally figured out which pronoun he should use. It was weird addressing a foal as if he was a filly but... well, she said she preferred that way.

The entire next week they spent on the road. He tried to teach her the alphabet to start. She was openly disinterested, but once he showed her with examples of why exactly it was necessary, she gave in. It took her a few days, but she managed. Next up was reading. At first, he tried using the map, an object of her obvious interest. Letter by letter, she made her to read the names. Crystal Empire and Yaktakistan on far north; Equestrian Empire, as the map called, to the south by rail; Changeling Queendom to the northeast, in the swampland; badlands and the Arabian desert further south; Mount Aris and the Hippogriff Kingdom at the very southern point of the Equus continent. He decided to stop there for now. There still were various griffon states, Jade Empire, Zebrica and others, but he wasn't teaching her geography for the moment.
Next, she tried to read a little from the books he had with him. One was a poetry book, another one was a bird encyclopedia. Both books he got as payment, he sometimes indulged in barter if he liked the pony enough. She quickly grew frustrated so he decided to drop it for now.

Eventually, they arrived at their next town where they could resupply and trade a bit. He made another attempt to teach her about counting then. As any foaling, she was curious about what he was doing, but not so much about studying. So he decided to use her curiosity to his advantage. He wrote out all ten numbers for her and then made her to count all the coins they were getting and scribe down the number that she got. Not quite calculations, but it was a start. He expected there to be disagreements about the number she got in the end, but she didn't argue with him when he told her she was wrong. That did little to soothe his worries, if she did think he was treating her in the wrong way... But in the end, she did not do anything even if she thought something.

So it went. Day after day, week after week. Old Filthy Rich never thought he would have another filly to care about in his lifetime, but then he never thought he would ever find himself alone, far away from home and with nothing behind his collar but the wagon and everything that was inside it. Well, maybe he wasn't quite like a parent to her, after all he was totally certain that the young lady did not recognize one bit of his authority and probably didn't even understand the concept of it. Remembering how it was with Diamond Tiara, it probably wasn't a good idea to insist too. He once saw her drag out their whole waggon out of a ditch without as much as feeling it. He knew a fair bit of unicorns, but he only saw few who could do that. Maybe she really was a sister to the royal twins after all. And judging by how they both turned out, he had not a single desire in his life to antagonize her in any way possible.

Although she was nothing like either one of the Princesses that he met. Both of them were rather chatty, though one used to be chatty and is no longer now, and the other one used to be rather sneaky but during the council meetings became rather talkative. Tiny kept to herself, despite being near all the time. Well, maybe not to herself, she was just quiet. She never talked to him first unless she needed something and she only used the bare minimum of words.

She wasn't just a mouth to feed though. She was eager to help, as long as it involved using her magic. She relished in opportunities to challenge herself. Whether it is dragging the waggon out of mud, or helping to load the cargo, or even using her own magic to fly despite not having wings. Filthy Rich saw another pony doing just that before, it was Princess Twilight Sparkle's own apprentice and she seemingly learned to do that entirely on her own too. She also seemingly developed new spells trivially and on the fly. He already saw her beams and night vision spell, but she soon developed another spell: when they had to go through the rain on one day, she cast a shield spell to keep the water away from the wagon. He didn't see her teleporting yet, but at this rate, she would learn to do that too with a little inspiration. Oh just what she could do with a tutor...
He didn't say it aloud but along the months of their travelling ever closer to the mysterious Land of Jade, where the Princess headed into her exile, the more weary he was growing of the fateful meeting.

Her other concerning trait was her complete disregard for social norms and manners. If she intended to say something, she would say it aloud and stare with confusion at the reaction to what she perceived to be an obvious truth. He didn't even try going in that direction with her. This was something her parents were meant to teach her and him trying to imprint his own way of seeing it would not do any good for either of them. He had to spend a lot of time apologizing.
She wasn't entirely oblivious towards others intents and attitudes though. In fact, she had an unusually intricate knowledge of the average pony's motivations and feelings, especially that of the lower class workers. It must have been the result of her rather horrific early years of life. She did not refer to them as such, however. Whenever he asked her about it, she tended to give a little laugh every now and then. Her sense of humor was cynical, if not to say more. But after she finally grasped her numbers, she also showed talent towards commerce. Her judgement was sound, that is. But she showed no interest in trading, if anything the concept of money seemed superficial to her. Why buy something if you can simply take it?

In the end, after months of travel and his, mostly fruitless, attempts to nudge her towards being more social, they began hearing rumors. Local ponies, with a funny accent, started to tell them about some timeless and wise Lady on the Mountain in a remote part of the country. She was said to live there for decades without ageing a day. Well, Filthy Rich couldn't quite say that he didn't age in the last forty years, but he wasn't too bad himself, not quite an extraordinary claim. Otherwise, the description checked out. After all, there wasn't any doubt that the one they were looking for could just disappear. Hiding wasn't much of an option for a mare that raised the sun.

Tiny got absolutely relentless after hearing the rumors. Exhilarated that she was about to achieve her goal. Filthy Rich couldn't help but go back some decades. He was an old stallion, but he still remembered how uplifting it felt to earn his first money. It was all about money for him, he even married for profit, had to divorce in the end, but his daughter turned out fine. Twilight Sparkle and her friends must have been a great example. He didn't hear much about Diamond Tiara since he left Equestria, but the last he saw her, she was looking to secure a place under her old acquaintance, Princess Twilight, short as her reign was. Diamond Tiara mostly faded from his sight after that, then he decided to leave. He lost most of what he owned in the divorce and without his capital it didn't matter where he dwelt, so he decided to move out of the land where the constant threat of being shot by some rebel stopped being balanced by the benefits, the royal favor that he enjoyed running out.

They eventually found the town they were hearing about, the one by the mountain. It was called "Yellow River" or something like that, he didn't really speak the eastern speech. He was almost certain that he was wrong, because there was no river, it was by the sea and hidden behind miles of bamboo forest. The prefect he spoke to told him, after a few disincentive drinks, that the locals kept saying that the hermit on the mountain was hardly a hermit at all. They kept coming to her to ask for advice or to simply look at her. It wasn't every day that you could meet someone who saw your grandparents still young. Rich wondered if he would fetch the same kind of attention if he told them how old he really was.

The town itself was unremarkable, an ordinary fishing village, the paint kept going off because of storms, the road was muddy, that sort of thing. It all was with local flavor, of course. Weirdly shaped roofs and curious paper lanterns hanging on wires over the main street kept Tiny staring. She saw those before, of course. But she wasn't yet used to them.

They stopped in the village for a day, making a few sales, the simple village folk was quite drawn to his trinkets. The most complex device they saw in their daily life was a wagon after all. Industry didn't quite get to this part of the world yet. Ponies tended to be quite traditionalistic creatures. Filthy Rich hated to admit it, but Equestria only was at the forefront of progress because of the recent conflicts. Princess Luna, since after her return, proved to be quite an innovator, especially compared to her older sister. Much to everyone's grief, her ideas were far beyond her abilities, yet technology developed rapidly during her stay. Wars gave an incentive to fund science and the industry developed fast to support the growing needs of the army. He saw it himself during his time as the Minister of Finances. It ended just as it began, with her sister. Once again, the sisters' family issues caused sorrow for all. The one that never ended as far as he knew. He kept hearing the news for some time after he left, but some time after they all suddenly stopped coming. What happened in his home this time, Filthy Rich did not know, but he found that mentioning that he was born there tended to draw the sort of attention he would rather avoid.

It turned out the village folks were unusually open to sharing. They offered no resistance to complete strangers asking about their gracious hermit. It must have been common for ponies from different villages to come and see her. What he found out was that no one remembered when exactly she appeared. The older ponies could vaguely remember there being the time when nopony was going up the mountain it was just a mountain. Then some maid, having a disagreement with her father about marrying someone he made an arrangement with, ran off to the mountain and climbed it in hope that her father won't search there. She came back a few days later, speaking of a house and a beautiful lady living at the summit. The village people did not believe her, obviously, but she kept insisting. Eventually, another pony went to check, then another, and another. The whole village soon knew the truth. One by one all of them went to see the Lady of the Mountain and hear her wisdom. She was said to be calm and courteous, but cold. She spoke with a refined accent and weighted words, she gave her word or ear when asked, but she made it clear with her attitude that she did not enjoy being disturbed. She never ordered her only servant to chase a petitioner away and the village people respected her desire to be left alone, only coming to her when her help was required. They also sometimes went to leave her an offering. She always accepted them, for they never found it lying there the next time they came.

She was described as an unnaturally tall and elegant mare with a white coat and long, rosy mane. Princess Celestia used to be portrayed with rosy mane on the old paintings and tapestries. No one really knew when did she change her style. Coming to think about it, there were a lot of things nopony knew about the royal sisters. It was easier to count the things they did know.

Rich decided to leave the wagon in the village, it would be awfully hard to drag it atop the mountain. They waited until morning and set off on their journey. Tiny was surprisingly non-resistant to his way of doing things this time, she usually did not have much appreciation for it and got annoyed whenever they stayed longer than was necessary in one place. He wanted to think that he won some measure of her respect, but his experience suggested that she was nervous. After all, her sister was nothing short of royalty. What would she think of her?

She didn't talk to him and he didn't ask, he reckoned she preferred it that way. They climbed the trail upwards in silence, it was about a kilometre at his estimation. The climb would be hard for both of them, he wasn't young and she still was very young, much younger than a filly should attempt climbing a mountain. He knew he couldn't have stopped her if he tried though, and she compensated for her body with her magic. When her legs were tired, she lifted herself in the air and floated forwards. He wasn't this lucky himself.

When they finally made it, it was well after dinner time. They only stopped to have a few snacks. All the way to the summit, they found stacks of rocks curiously put on top of each other, those must have been left by the villagers to mark the mountain as significant. Near the summit they found the shrine, Rich took out his offering, a porcelain teapot, that he brought to honor the tradition. In the past, he would've never parted with something so expensive this easily, but now money did not matter so much. He had enough for himself and Tiny, that meant he had all he needed.

After that, they made their final few steps. The summit was scene of serenity. It was lush with grass, but it was clearly tended to as the grass did not grow past knee height. To the northern side was a small pond with a wooden seat on the ground next to it. A cherry bloomed with its vibrant rosy flowers, dropping a few petals in the pond as if preparing a bath. Lastly, on the far western side sat a house. It wasn't large, it would not have more than three rooms, he reckoned, but it was very well tended to. The walls were newly painted with red paint and whitewashed. The roof had a shiny new clay cover. It was very obviously not of local design, the door was a dead giveaway. Instead of the traditional sliding door, the house had the usual swinging, wooden one.

"Well, I reckon that's where she lives," Filthy Rich said, trying to re-focus on why they were here. "Nice place. Must be cosy inside too." Tiny blinked a few times, but didn't say anything and didn't move, "So, you feel like you are ready? We can wait for a little and catch our breath," he didn't want to rush her. And... he needed a little time to think too. To think about what he was doing. This was no regular foal, that he could tell straight away, so getting entangled with her could not bode well, especially considering who she claims to be her sister. The last time he was, practically, forced to work for royalty. The Empress needed a financier and she left him with little choice but to agree to be employed. Now he was doing it again. He couldn't quite say that he regretted those years of his life, but to say that he was glad to be a puppet would've been a lie. He learned better than to get involved in the matters of nobility since then. He didn't fancy being someone's errand colt again.

Well, in any case, he made a promise and what's a trader that doesn't keep his word?
"Come on, let's see if your sister is home," he nudged Tiny forward.

They made their way to the perch and Rich knocked on the door twice. Nobody answered. He already lifted his hoof to try again when the door creaked open slightly. Through the opening a familiar presence watched him. He knew about changelings, of course. He never saw any himself before or after his days on that ship. And he recognized the changeling looking at him since that time. She looked old now, very old. Her chitin plates no longer shined and were starting to crack, her eyes were now all but entirely white. Her scars were still there and didn't seem to change one bit since the time he saw her. Her gossamer tail was tattered and losing its color. He started back at this creature in wonder, if she was as old as she looked, how it was that she was still here?

"Lady Daybreaker," the mare half-whispered into the room, her voice was low and hoarse. "You have visitors."

"Let them in," the emotionless, completely flat response came. The changeling opened the door fully and stepped aside, gesturing them both to enter. "The Lady is meditating," the changeling explained. "She will see you shortly. May I have your names?"

"Filthy Rich and Tiny," he dryly announced. The changeling slowly nodded.

"The Lady expected you. Please, sit by the table." Filthy Rich was slightly unnerved by the revelation. How could she expect them? Canterlot royalty long since was nearly omniscient, often knowing about plans of their subjects before the subjects themselves knew their own plans. He witnessed it plenty during his time in the office, but he always assumed it was due to large volumes of information the rulers had.

The table they were shown to was less formal than the ones he used to sit at back at Canterlot. It was low enough for them to not require any actual chairs. Those always were a little inconvenient to all but the largest ponies. This time there were simply pillows on the wooden floor. He nudged Tiny to the table and sat down, Tiny, uneasily, followed the example. The changeling nodded and moved out of the room, leaving them alone.

He used the time to study the room they were in with care. Just like the outside, the interior was tidy and richly decorated. The walls were covered in rich wallpapers, but otherwise, it was strangely empty. Of furniture, it only had a glass cupboard. He could see inside too well, his seat was too low, but he could tell there was some sort of jewellery there. The rest of the Princess' luggage she took with her on that ship must be elsewhere in the house. Tiny seemed uninterested.

A few more minutes later, the lady of the house came to meet them at last. She came out of the same door where the changeling went, or rather almost floated out, so smooth her movement was. He saw her a few times before, during her sister's time. She was very nervous back then. Understandable, considering her authoritarian, younger sister held her very life to do with as she wished. She gradually became less stressed with time, until her sister died. The next time he met her, she wasn't nervous anymore, she was angry and remorseful at the same time. It seemed, she changed yet again. Her attitude used to be rather aggressive, from what he heard from the staff at the palace, now it was all gone. The mare that now stared him down had a motionless, tranquil demeanour to her. Her muscles were relaxed only tensing up when she was moving and only while she was moving. Her stare was no longer burning with bottled-up anger and frustration, but was cold and still, like winter frost. Her mane, previously flowing like a banner for all to see, now was tied into a knot around two wooden pins, as was the local fashion, and was colored rose now.
The Princess only looked at him and was entirely disinterested in Tiny, next to him, who eyed her, as she believed, sister with awe and wonder, unconsciously inclining closer in her seat.
Eventually, she was done studying him and without saying a word or making a single sharp movement, lowered herself on the pillow on the other side of the table. She sat there silently for another moment, before the changeling returned, carrying a tray with cups and a steaming teapot.

"Thank you, Shadow," she said flatly, her voice every bit as cold as her eyes.

"My Lady," the changeling bowed and left the room again. The Princess then started slowly pouring water into each cup, not missing a drop.

"Mister Rich," she spoke her greeting.

"Lady," he slightly bowed, remembering the etiquette.

"My sister used to enjoy drinking tea with her guests, you undoubtedly remember," she began, catching him off-guard. He expected her to remember him, of course, but not that it would be used against him as such... he was quickly growing to believe that coming here was not his best decision.

"I-I do, Lady. She insisted on pouring tea every time she had a meeting." Her attitude may have changed radically, but this part he recognized clear as day. Ostentatious hospitality became the trademark of the Canterlot royalty for longer than anyone could remember. There was a difference, however. During the time of Princess Celestia's reign, the welcome was warm, almost corny. While her sister managed to refine this art to the point where being invited to her tea room was the equivalent of being sent to an interrogation room. She managed to strike a very fine line to make a mundane thing, such as tea, into a weapon. The tea itself was exquisite, but with every sip of it, the realization dawned upon her "guest" that just like the tea, their very existence depended on the pony sitting across. This form of subtle intimidation marked everything she did, her very gaze seemed to extinguish the will to resist her. The Empress was a true artist, he remembered almost fondly.

"She was much too refined for what she was called to do," the mare responded.

It wasn't clear from her reaction what is it exactly she meant, no doubt was worded that way for a reason. Filthy Rich suddenly felt as if he never left. She wanted him to state clearly what his stance was. Tiny probably had no idea what was going on, but that was the purpose of noble etiquette. To be only understood by those the message was intended for.

"Indeed, your sister had too much of an instability on her hooves. A truly tragic loss, it's a pity I could not give you my condolences on time," he hoped that his tongue wasn't too rusty for his unambiguity to sound telling enough. He took a sip of his tea to formally pass the ball. The tea was the best one he had in a very long while, but without the usual pretext, it held with the sister. He was a little wary to admit it to himself, but he enjoyed it.

"The instability was entirely within her ability, I assure you, Mister Rich." Ah... Bust. He chose poorly. As to confirm his suspicion the mare finally looked directly at Tiny, next to him. Well, as amusing as their short exchange was, it was time they got to the reason for this visit.

"This is Tiny, my Lady," he cautiously took the initiative. The young pony, as usually, did not say anything but she kept staring back at her bigger sister, more impressed with the mare herself, than her stern attitude. "She is the reason for our visit today."

"I see. Greetings, sister."

To all his experience with the royalty, Filthy Rich nearly choked. He knew this was coming, but the simplicity of it happening still got to him.

"A-Ah... H-Hello..." Tiny responded uncharacteristically meekly.

Daybreaker rolled her eyes and sighed,
"You are not the first one of our kin to come to me. It doesn't matter how far I go, you still find me. What is it you seek? Do you wish to know how to come to terms with your host? How do you make the world accept you and not treat you like a parasite? Or maybe you wish to know how to follow in our hoofsteps?" Daybreaker was quite plainly bored. "I have to disappoint you, dear sister. I have no answers for you. As you may see for yourself, I have much the same issues as you do. We make poor rulers, even if our ability is exceptional. If you do not keep yourself secret, other ponies would chase you away. There is no solution, for we have to harm others for our right to live. Some of our sisters refuse to and live as companions to their hosts, for others, it is the life of endless lie and conflict. This is simply how the world is and this is the only answer I can give you. There is nothing more here for you." Daybreaker then stood up and started to turn to leave.

"B-But... sister," Tiny weakly protested. Daybreaker actually raised her brow. "You are sister."

"Ah," Daybreaker sighed. "I see now. Is it family you seek here? This is rare. Mostly our sisters are concerned with trying to straighten their own lives, they are usually too preoccupied to be bothered with such things as family. I wonder, what did you expect? You are not naive enough to believe in happy endings, are you?" Daybreaker stopped for a moment to give the younger pony a long stare. When Tiny did not answer, Daybreaker continued: "I am an old mare living in a recluse." She nodded at the house around them. "If you expected to find here your sweet sister, who would take you in and love you, I fear this is not the place. If you wish for a better future, you would have to make it yourself. This is what I tell to every one of our sisters. I cannot do anything more for them or for you. I am sorry."

Filthy Rich was speechless, both because he was not allowed to speak and because he didn't know what to say. This was cruel. He knew that Daybreaker was not the same mare as Princess Celestia, but sweet stars.
He put his hoof on the filly's shoulder. She just continued staring at the door where her sister just went.

"Let's go," he said quietly and tugged. The filly obediently got up, he wasn't sure she heard him though. He didn't try to talk to her, it would've only made things worse, he knew how she operated. He quietly led her outside and then starting their way down the mountain. He wasn't certain about what will happen when they are down again, will she simply leave? It seemed likely. He expected a mistake, but not rejection. He tried to show her some support, he wasn't sure how much she needed it but he still kept touching her quietly just to give a sign that he was still with her. Her reaction wasn't like a typical foal, but that was expected for she wasn't a regular foal.

Suddenly, he heard hooves behind them. Turning his head, he noticed the changeling from before catching up with them.
"Mister Rich, Miss Tiny," she whispered a formal greeting. He noticed her carrying a book with her, it looked very old but well cared for, in a simple black cover. "I overheard your exchange with the Lady."

"Did she send you?" Rich asked drearily.

"No, sir," she immediately responded. "I come on my own accord, there is something I wish to give Miss." Tiny did not recuperate from her shock yet, so she simply stared at the changeling. "Page sixty-six, I marked it." The changeling held out the book to Rich.

"Why?" he asked, accepting the book. "Your Lady won't look kindly on this."

"Oh, she will not notice. She rarely goes through Mistress' things. But this is not important, Mister Rich, promise that once Miss feels better, you will aid her," the changeling suddenly became tense.

"Ah... A-always," he mechanically answered. The changeling quickly nodded and quickly started to canter back up the trail.

"Remember, page sixty-six! The one marked with the red ink splatters," she stopped for a moment to remind before disappearing from view, leaving Rich to stand with the book on the mountainous trail, not understanding a single thing of what just happened.
He opened the book and peered on the familiar, carefully inked letters. It took him a moment, but he realised what it was. It was a spellbook. He found the page the changeling talked about, it had several large, recent, splatters of red ink on it.

"A... summoning spell?" he thought aloud.