The Trial of the Workshop
I dream often of the trial and our ensuing separation. The 5flames cackling as I burn out of existence there and roar to life here. It must have been weeks now…
I find myself magically enclosed in a small room. There are no doors. The only theoretical means of ingress or egress is the lone skylight high above. It is, of course, protected by some sort of charm or enchantment. All of my previous attempts at escape have been summarily rebuffed. I am intended to stay here for some time it seems and whoever has laid that intent has seen to it that I have all I need: a bed, food, small kitchen, and functioning plumbing. The countless tools and materials stacked 2 meters high on 3 of the 4 walls suggest what I’m meant to do during my stay as does the large workbench situated in the middle of the room. It’s unclear at the moment if any of it will lead to my liberation.
. . .
Chrysippus clapped the notebook closed and pressed it back into my hands.
“a magical workshop?”, he said, somewhat pained— as if his trial might have been different.
I nodded.
“Let’s make camp first and I’ll tell you about it.” I said, “We can compare notes and figure out where to go next. Even after completing the trial there’s no new location on my map”.
We found a small clearing among some fir and quickly established a primitive lean-to by driving some branches into the ground. Chryissipus, bless him, had a tarp for some reason that we fashioned into the lining and roof of our dwelling. We gathered kindling and used an old trick from Embryon Isle to light our fire. Not too soon though as fat droplets of water began to fall.
Through the heavy patter of rain against tarp I started recounting the events that led to our earlier run-in.
“I left that room the same way I entered it. I had just finished my twelfth attempt at creating a wooden automaton. You know one of those mesmerizing toys from our youth and then I was there on the mountain pass and moments later you came bounding into view.
If you ask me what the trial was, I have my theories. There was something in the room that I didn’t see when I had first written that entry. Off to the side of the workbench was this large leather pouch and inside and an endless supply of gigglepink vials — the legal kind. There was also a pramix so you could actually use the stuff. It seems like I was afforded a choice and I think therein was the trial…”
Chrysippus gazed into the fire and started to reply…
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