The room was still as its many occupants. A tired man and a boy near each other. A dead bisect insect body. A dark-skinned sharply dressed man with a top hat in his hands, standing near them, composed and elegant. A short and pale young woman with white hair, a beaming smile on her face matching her golden dress. A tall and gaunt figure dressed in black robes and bones, a broken human skull worn as a helmet. And an older pale man, black hair going grey along his temples. His face rugged with age, and his green eyes sunken deep in his face, they shine like wells of experience and wisdom.

  There are also several actual rotting corpses standing around, undead, Verek trembles upon seeing them. He trembles even further upon seeing a moving thing in shadows, a silhouette with bright tiny eyes he could not even begin to describe. Finally, he notices two other men. His uncle and Cumulus, both seem unharmed, but shaken. Especially his uncle, the man has a heavy haunted look in his eyes.

  All of them, except the sharply dressed man, are inside the burnt tunnel, which is significantly larger than he remembers.

  Before he can get his bearings at the sudden shift of the situation, the girl hops closer to the black man, her smile softening and turning into curiosity.

  “Wait, he detected you, somehow, but not us?” The girl chirply says. Her voice is pleasant, her cadence slightly musical, but with a sharp little pitch at the end, like a chime ringing a note too high.

  “He was able to feel Tom’s use of gramaryes. The boy is a cypher slave.” Said the older man, his voice deep, gruff and powerful, like he was constantly speaking with his full chest. He turns to his uncle, who is on his knees. “You will be punished by such sin.”

  Before Verek can process what the man just said, before he can process anything really, he hears a sharp clacking sound. He turns his head and sees it is from Nadros, the man is clicking his teeth, chittering them rapidly, as if dying from freezing cold.

  Before, Nadros had been at the end of his wicker, nerves burnt from exertion, pulled and taught and a hair away from snapping. Now, Verek sees, they have finally been split apart. The man lifts his finger, and immediately is immolated. But he doesn't scream, doesn’t even flinch, instead he crackles like burnt logs. Nadros does not look human, not anymore, he looked like a vengeful spectre, flamer flickering into strange unknowable symbols.

  He lifted his hand and—his hand fell to the ground. His head followed a fraction of a second later, along with all of his body. Nadros’ entire body was cut into slices, some falling and even rolling away along the floor. All except his upper torso, where the golden symbol of his armor shone brightly.

  “Wow, that chest armor is really strong!” The girl in gold was right next to him when she said it. He didn’t see her approaching, didn’t hear, didn’t notice at all. Did she do this?

  “It’s a proto grimoire. He is—was—using it as armor, it seems, was probably compelled by it.” Said the dapper man, Tom. “It is quite the find, especially for such a shallow layer like this.” He finished, turning an appreciative eye towards the…bleeding torso that was Nadros. He then turned to Verek, who stood completely and utterly still, afraid any action on his part would mean he would be next.

  “Now, now. No need for that young man. We are not planning on hurting you, quite the contrary, in fact!” He said, his smile seemed truly genuine, but Verek’s body refused to believe it. He stood still as a statue, not even daring to breathe.

  “Ooooh, goodies!” The woman said, her fingers wildly twitching up and down, like centipedes' legs when they move.

  “Hey! Siph, come get his brain!” She shouted, turning back towards the entrance of the room. The giant dark shape inside moved and Verek finally saw what it was.

  “Oh, you might want to look away, young man.” Tom said, and Verek internally agreed. He didn’t want to look at whatever this thing was any longer, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Maybe it was fear of being diced for moving, maybe it was simply his mind latching on and refusing to ignore the thing. He didn’t know, but he found himself unable to look away, unable to protect his mind from gazing at that thing.

  It was a huge humanoid creature with completely smooth blue translucent skin, more than thrice the size of any one of the occupants in the room, and four times as wide, its head almost touching the ceiling. Its arms and legs were spindly thin and long like a spider’s. There were ten digits on each of its hands and feet. Each toe was thick and they crowned around the thing’s leg. Their hands were different, mostly like a human hand, but with a second one on top, the fingers protruding above, occupying the space in between the lower fingers. The upper hands fingers ended in spherical protrusions, which pulsate weakly with soft light. While the lower ones ended in claws, each finger having a slightly different one. Verek could see the bones inside, strange crystalline structures, the creature’s skin wrapped tightly around them, like it had no fat or muscle to speak of, and from what Verek could see, it truly didn’t.

  All of these traits could have given the creature a weak, feeble appearance, malnourished even. Except for two other details. Its huge bulbous protruding head, where it got most of its size, the inside of the head had a multitude of worm creatures of multiple sizes and lengths. All of them were alive, and swimming around inside the head, there were more than Verek could hope to count. Its giant head was only rivaled by its large expectant belly, which was heavily filled with dozens of wrinkly brains and an unknown fluid, which bubbled along with the creature’s steps.

  And with each step the creature's protuberances jiggled, he could hear the accompanying sound of its inner sloshing as it did so. Could see the way the worms inside its head swam faster, as if they were excited little children. Could see the way the wrinkly brains rubbed and deformed against one another, their folds wrapping around obscenely, each of them mutually massaging the kneading other.

  The creature kept leisurely walking, unbothered or unnoticing of Verek’s fearful stare. As it approached he could see its face, or rather its lack of one. The creature's face was comparatively tiny to its head, and completely featureless, no mouth, nose or ears. It only had two pinprick eyes, they both shone with a strange foreign light. Both eyes had an intense, powerful luster, but it didn’t leave them, those shining spheres didn’t light up the room as they should. It was almost as if the light was trapped inside, unable to interact with the room.

  The creature approached further, and passed Verek, striding along toward Nadros’ corpse, or rather to one specific piece of many from his corpse. This close he could see how badly he screwed up in his inner counting, on both accounts. This close he saw how many worms there truly were, at a distance he could only see the biggest ones, now he could see the smaller ones. He could see there were layers and layers of constantly shifting worms inside of the creature’s head. He felt dizzy looking at them, nauseous from the constant and varied movement he could see inside the creature, innumerable worms all moving at slightly different speeds. He could see their many types and forms, the myriad of shapes inside that writhing mass of horror.

  Some were thin and translucent, their pale bodies almost invisible only their movements betraying their existence. Some were sickly pale and knobbly, like crooked fingers. Some had dark veins running through them, like pigments inside glass. Some were covered in fine, hair-like cilia that waved constantly. Some shimmered faintly with an oily iridescence, shifting colors as it moved. He saw a few that oozed a trail of corruption and filth, and others that followed and cleaned up the mess. The most terrible were ones that were segmented like spines, they had thick blunt heads, and Verek could see features on them. Human features, a nose, a mouth, eyes, ears and some even had tiny hairs.

  Some of them had incredibly tiny hands.

  Verek got lost looking inside of that head, the more he looked the deeper it seemed, almost as if it was bigger than what he was seeing, maybe it was. A part of him imagined it might be like the fabled ocean, with terrible depths that could never be gazed upon, for no light touched it. What terrible creatures might squirm inside such a place? He couldn’t even fathom how many numerous worms were truly inside of that bulbous head, he could only guess you would need to count them in the thousands, maybe tens of thousands.

  He also miscounted the numerous brains on its belly, so close he could notice he had only seen the biggest and healthiest brains, and that the belly too seemed to be deeper than it should have been possible. The brains they were…beautiful in a terrible way. They didn’t look grotesque, they looked supple, like a truly healthy brain. They were fat and luscious things, their lobed surfaces glistening with a sparkly soft sheen. And they were pink, such a soft and delicate pink, like a baby mouse. Their color was unlike anything natural, it had such depth and life, that it felt more than natural, like this was what nature aspired to be. The color was a mixture of shimmering rose quartz and ripened fruit.

  It felt…it felt succulent with possibility, decadent with sensation. His every sense was heightened, it was difficult to control himself. His lips ached with the desire to savour, his fingers ached to clutch, his teeth glistened with appetite. He wanted to Taste them, he wanted to feel their secrets in between his molars, and wanted to gulp down on their knowledge, wanted to digest their— He felt a sudden weight on his shoulder, heavy and grounding.

  Tom was by his side, his hand carefully placed on his left shoulder. He had a kind, warm smile, filled with honest emotion, bare. And his eyes… Verek turned away, as if the sight burned. His eyes reminded Verek of too much of his father. A look holding the same bittersweet mixture of sadness and joy.

  Tom turned to look at the creature, He and Verek were now at eye level with the thing’s stomach, and Verek could now see much more than he wished. Beside the succu—the healthy brains. There were many, many, absolutely tiny shriveled brains inside, being squeezed between bigger, healthier ones. These were terrible to look at, a mixture of unappetizing—of unhealthy colors. deep greys, beiges and yellows dominated, these brains were truly disgusting to look at, almost as if they were already digested…

  It arrived at its destination, it picked Nadros’ decapitated head with a single many-fingered hand. The action felt utterly bizarre, with its single hand and too many digits, it deftly and delicately rotated the head around. Turning and spinning it in incredible precisa movements, Verek was reminded of the armillary sphere and its mechanical movement. The creature looked like a deranged curator appreciating a new eerily addition to their collection.

  Then, in a single precise movement, the creature turned the head down. One of its fingers gingerly glided across the crown of Nadros’ head. The top half of his head fell, soon followed by his brain. The brain was in freefall for barely a second before it was picked up by the other hand. The head was now uncaringly tossed towards the torso, the creature's previous caring movements completely gone, now that it had its prize.

  Verek…didn’t react to any of it. Not the motion, not the sound, not the grotesque display unfolding before him. His body had gone still, locked beyond his control, and mind took the hint and had just utterly shut down, it felt like all of him had simply retreated to a far away dark corner, folded within himself in hopes of disappearing. Whatever survival instincts or emotional thoughts he had were being drowned in a tidal wave of pure shock. His body was reduced to a silent spectator, a statue of flesh and blood. He was completely unable to even form coherent thoughts, to form words, screams or experience any feelings outside of overwhelming horror.

  The damned necromancer was bad enough. Necromancers he understood, knew what to expect from them, their cruelty, their corruption. Their twisted desire for power, using people as if they were objects. The practice was not much different from what was done to him. He knew the stories, listened to the warnings whispered in their terrible tellings. Necromancers used corpses to store gramaryes; the practice warped both the cadaver and the gramaryes themselves. It also changed the necromancer’s body, turning them gaunt and cold like the bodies they loved so much, the bodies they stole. In some of the stories Cumulus told, this was a form of punishment for them. When they finally die, all necromancers turn into undead themselves, eventually either being destroyed or subjugated by other necromancers, keeping their perverted cycle alive in perpetuity. Their evil he knew well, from countless stories and warnings told over the years. From whispered tales from when he was a child. Whatever this thing was, it was something he had never seen or heard of. Even in the most terrible of stories, the ones made to truly scare children into behaving.

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  The white haired woman stood in front of him. This close he could see that she was not a short woman, but actually probably around his age, or only slightly older. She snapped her fingers, producing a truly loud booming sound for such delicate and small hands. Verek winced at hearing such an echoing noise right in front of his face.

  “Hey, you okay?” She asked, her voice filled with genuine concern. Verek just stared at her, as right behind her, he saw the thing bring the brain to its face and…slurp it. The sound was incredibly loud, so awfully loud. And Its face, its featureless face had opened up, like it was a mask being taken apart and the innumerable worms inside its head protruded out, grasping and pulling the brain inside. Some of them even fell down, and wriggled along the ground, where they entered back into the body through its feet. He then saw the organ glide down the torso, towards the heavy belly, while a few worms swam up, back to the head.

  He wondered what kind of face he was making, because the girl immediately had the expression of a kid who had just shattered their mother’s favorite tea cup.

  “Oh, right, hehe. Uhm.” The girl looked incredibly awkward now. “Don’t worry about Siph. He wouldn't hurt a—wouldn’t hurt you. Unless you gave him cause.”

  Verek’s eyes moved to watch the monster. The thing stood still, staring at nothing.

  The girl clapped both her hands in front of her, the noise once again echoing in the room like an explosion.

  “Right! Where are my manners? Where are our manners, actually. Tom, you generally have already introduced us by this point!” The girl exclaimed, looking at Tom like he had just stolen her sweets.

  “Right, I apologize.” He bowed his head slightly towards Verek. “I was distracted. Still, why don’t you do it this time, Vecky?” The man still had this hand on Verek’s shoulder, he strangely found he didn’t mind it, in fact, he welcomed it.

  “Okay, alright. You must be Verek.” She clapped her hands once, a sharp and crispy sound emanating from her palms.

  “So, I’m Vector! You may call me Vecky, all my friends do.” The girl said excitedly, large almond eyes shining brightly. “This one dapper gentleman to your side is the one and only Tom Laborn!” The man once again slightly bowed his head in one smooth well-practiced motion.

  “Pleasured to meet you my friend.” He said in a relaxed jovial tone, a slight smile adorning his handsome features.

  “Tall, quiet and bony over there.” She pointed towards the necromancer.”That is Gideon, look you two match!” She gestured towards his hand, he looked down and remembered there was no hand. Only the crystal shard. His gaze slowly turned towards the necromancer, and he saw that they too had a blade in place of their right hand. Except theirs was more of a bladed hook, bone white and porous, no doubt the bones of an unlucky person. Verek felt the immediate need to rip the crystal out, the utter disgust he felt filling him overwhelming. He didn’t want to have anything matching with a necromancer. But he was able to resist the urge, he was used to living with disgust and for more that he despised the necromancer, there was no reason to aggravate them. Or their friends.

  Vector's hand swept around, before stopping, her face confused as she pointed at nothing. She did another spin, this one turning toward the iron book and the man standing in front of it.

  “Ah, there he is. He is a sneaky guy for someone with such squeaky old bones!” The man grumbled, and did a familiar gesture that every kid that ever annoyed an older person knew, he waved his hand in lazy dismissal, as if waving an irritating fly. Vector just looked at the older man with a familiar warmth to her features, something different than what she had for the others, a happy and understated little smile.

  “That is Garmon!” She proclaimed, enunciating each word with grandeur. ”Probably the wisest man in this Layer, and many below, and certainly all the above ones! If you have a question, any question, he has the answer!” She giggled at that, Tom covered his face, an impish smile on his features. It must have been some inside joke he didn’t get, couldn’t get really.

  ”That one is Siph.” Her hand swept towards the brain eating thing then nodded. As if the translucent nightmare brain worm thing needed just that. Thankfully, Tom gave her a look, and she elaborated.

  “So, Siph is…You know earworms?” She asked. Verek nodded instinctually, then stopped cold.

  “You mean…the, the.” He swallowed his saliva.”Those stories about children that keep bothering their elders with annoying songs?”

  “Yep! Now, ever heard of brain worms?“ Verek nodded again.

  “The ones that crawl up inside the ears of children that go to sleep too late.”

  “Yep! Yep! Exactly!” She exclaimed excitedly. With a flourish, she swept both arms wide and directed them at the creature, like a showman unveiling a grand prize. “Ta~da~. This is what they turn into! Smarty sages like Garmon call them Neurophages! Neurophages, okay? Not Neurovores! That is apparently wrong!”

  “Not wrong, necessarily.” Garmon turned from his staring contest with the iron book. ‘It’s just that—” He stopped upon meeting the incredibly childish and smug gaze of Vector and Tom. ”Bah! Do as you wish.” He exclaimed, throwing up his hands and turning back to the book, grumbling under his breath.

  Verek ignored the exchange, he wanted to puke. How many? How many little stories that parents told their kids were true? Not only true, but so much more horrifying in truth. He had never heard of earworms or brain worms looking like this creature.

  “Hey, hey, now! Don’t worry. No need to look so scared! His kind actually doesn’t hurt children, they prefer fully adult brains!” She explained, as if that made things better. Clearly she saw it didn’t because she kept trying. In the corner of his vision, he saw that Garmon had turned, arm and finger raised like he was about to correct something. He opened his mouth, before shutting it when Tom turned to look at him. Verek decided he should ignore whatever that was, for the safety of his mind.

  ”For his kind, eating children’s brains is kind of like eating unripe fruit, you know? Green, hard, acidic, metaphorically speaking, of course. So you don’t have to worry about it! even if you provoked Siph, he would just ki—ignore you—completely!” Verek’s consciousness once again decided to ignore that last statement, for its own safety.

  “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never eaten fruit.” He said simply. His mind grabbed the first thing that felt like normalcy.

  Vector’s jaw dropped, her very face an etched wood carving of pure disbelief. Tom, standing beside him, let out a low and warm chuckle, clearly entertained.

  “I don’t think I have ever seen a fruit before. A real one, I mean, I have seen plenty of drawings.” He continued.

  “I…wow. That is just so sad!” Vector answered, her voice pitched high, her almond eyes glistening with emotion, staring deeply into his. He now just noticed how big her irises are, their rich gold color occupying the majority of her eyes. He could see the tiniest little tears beginning to form at their corners, clinging to her thin lashes. They looked like little crystals from the now broken chandelier, he could almost hear the musical sound they would make when hitting the ground. Was she really actually going to cry? For him? The thought struck him harder than he expected. He wasn’t really sure how to feel.

  On one hand, she was friends with the…neurophage and a necromancer. On the other hand, his uncle, actually, all the people in his life were utterly horrible to him. Cold, cruel, or vengeful, like any inkling of kindness had been dried out of them generations ago. The last time anyone had treated him with genuine warmth was…his parents. And that was a long, long time ago. A completely different life. One that felt so long ago, no it didn't even feel like it was his life anymore. Any good felt like it happened to someone else, or that it was not real, a fleeting dream instead of a memory. And now, here was this girl, about to cry—she just pulled a small cloth to wipe away her tears— because he never tasted fruit. It felt so, unexpected, and confusing

  He felt like he needed another decade just to unpack and understand this day.

  “Oh, here, use my handkerchief.” She said, presenting the small cloth to him. He stared at it for a second. It had a pretty soft yellow color. Like gentle sunshine he saw illustrated in some books. She tilted her head slightly, motion slow and gentle, she looked at him with quiet concern. Why was she…he caught movement from the corner of his eyes. Tom was looking at him, the man touched the corner of his own eye, gently tapping it with his index finger.

  “Oh.” He exclaimed softly. Before he could think, the words left his mouth with a quiet whisper. He finally noticed the tears silently slipping from his eyes. He reached with his hand to take the cloth.

  “Oop!” And stopped before he could skewer Vector. The tears poured out faster now, a deluge to accompany his embarrassment.

  “Sorry. I’m sorry.” He quietly took the small cloth with his left hand and began to wipe away the tears from his face. He marveled at how unbelievably soft the cloth felt in his face, how comforting its unique smell was. He couldn’t describe it. It was airy and light, It felt like a gentle breeze on his face, warm and subtle. For a moment, he just rested it there, he covered his eyes and nose and began to slowly breathe in.

  One moment turned into a few, as he basked in this peaceful sensation, hearing soft voices around him. Vector and Tom were talking, whispering to each other. His ears were slowly picking up on whatever was being said.

  “It’s not strange that he doesn't know about fruits, really. ” Tom’s voice said. “It’s not like an elf will come up to this layer, and without them most fruiting trees have no way to grow, or even live. And the ones that do are like ink fish, not edible by most people. Honestly, I doubt even mushrooms exist in these layers.”

  “Thankfully. Because, ew mushrooms are gross.” Vector said.

  “You will grow to like them, when you do some growing yourself of course.” Tom chuckled.

  But Verek’s mind was still stuck on something else.

  “Elves? Did you say elves, like the ones in stories?” He asked, moving the comforting cloth away from his face. Thankfully his tears had stopped too.

  “Yep! Well, kind of.” Vector said. He lifted his arm to give her handkerchief back, but she stopped him with a wave.”Oh, you can keep that, I think you need it more than me.” She said with a small smile.

  “Yeah…Thank you. Vector.” He quietly said, a feeling of genuine gratitude blossoming within him.

  “Vecky!” She corrected, with a raised finger and mischievous smile.”Anyway, about elves, what do you know? It will be simpler to explain if I know what you know.” He nodded at that, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

  So many of what he knew about elves was from his earlier childhood memories. Little whimsical stories of kings, queens and mystical seasons in the fictional island of Europe, Britannia or Avalon. Back then Cumulus—Cumulus, wait, he’s right there. With everything going on, he was feeling so overwhelmed, he completely forgot about him and his uncle. What did they want with them? They killed Nadros without hesitation, is Cumulus in danger? He felt the same sudden apprehension he felt when he first laid eyes on these people.

  He gulped down his fears and decided to just blurt his questions out.

  “What are your plans regarding that man?” He asked, pointing to Cumulus. The man seemed to notice being pointed at, because he raised his head the exact moment Verek’s fingers found his direction. Vector turned to look, while Tom simply leaned down, looking around Verek.

  “The bald guy, uhhhh.” She said, unhelpfully. Vector started to look around the room. Verek suddenly noticed that everyone inside the room, except his uncle and the undead, were now looking at Cumulus. Their eyes felt strange to him. Vector looked awkward, clearly troubled, like a teenager about to see her parents fight and unsure what to say to stop it. Gamorn had a deep, severe frown on his face, like he was looking at a particular problem he had no easy solutions to answer with. Tom similarly had his eyes narrowed down, a sharp stare focusing on the blind mily eyes of Cumulus. The necromancer and the neurovore were both also looking in his direction, but whatever they were feeling or what expressions they had were a complete mystery to Verek.

  Verek gulped down, hard. It felt like swallowing down a stone tome. Maybe he made a mistake. Did he just doom Cumulus?

  “Verek—” The old man started, only to be immediately interrupted.

  “That will depend entirely on what our enlightened Lantern friend here wishes.” Tom said, words sharp, threatening, challenging a rebuke from the meek and blind old man.

  “I’m not! I’m not one of them! Not—not anymore.” He said, his words weakening, his head pointing down, and shoulders tightening inwards against his body. Tom, clicked his tongue.

  “A cat is still a cat, even after its death. Do you truly take us for fools, ignorant children?” He scoffed, and left Verek’s side. He turned to Cumulus and put on his top hat.

  “I have longed stalked these old halls, both high and low. Have fought and fought by all manner of creatures. Danced with skeletons and drank with spiders.” He flung his arms and splayed hands wide open , fingers opened, as if trying to grasp at something invisible. “I have taken gifts at the darkest shrines. Bargained with darker devils.” His shadow grew, the light of the room intensified, but it only helped to contrast with that pool of darkness connected to him. ”I have walked the Woad! Chased the Fox King! Taught Mice how to read and write! Sculpted with—”

  “Are you going somewhere with this?” Cumulus asked, voice deeply neutral. Tom stopped, completely. His open hands lifted towards the ceiling, eyes seeing something beyond it, a smile fresh on his lips. He disappeared, one moment there, the other not. Completely and utterly gone.

  Verek blinked and looked around. Vector had puffed up her cheeks and had her wrists on her hips while her foot tapped the ground. Garmon had brought his hand on his eyes, slowly massaging them like he had a headache, or tired eyes. The necromancer and the neurovor—neurophage, both just kept staring at Cumulus, intent and expressions still absent from Verek’s understanding.

  Tom reappeared, however, now he had a placid expression on his face. In fact he almost looked abashed. Like he had just realized they’d spoken too harshly and was quietly walking it back. He laughed, more out of a wish to clear the air than to express cheer.

  “Yes, yes. I did get a bit caught up, didn’t I? Have my sincere apologies, please.” He said, hand in his breast, he took off his top hat and slightly inclined his head and torso towards Cumulus, who simply nodded.

  “Do not worry, I understand. Old men like us, we sometimes get lost in our own heads, tangled up in our memories. Especially when telling fancy stories. Oh believe me I understand how difficult it is to stop when we start spinning out tales.” Cumulus said with an amused tone, ending in slightly laughter. Tom for his part simply nodded along, a slight smile on his lips.

  “Of course, of course. Still, I must say something. ‘Old men like us’? Come now, mister, I believe you’re that hardly old. You carry yourself like a man half your age. Why, I bet you are still spry in heart and body! In fact, I feel it is quite peculiar to find a man such as yourself in such an uninteresting layer, squabbling amongst men like that.” He says, hands flicking towards his uncle and…the burnt corpse of Nadros.

  “As I have said, such days are behind me.” Cumulus wet his lips before continuing.”I merely wish to pass the rest of my spins in peace, while keeping a watch over certain…interests.” Tom’s eyes widened and narrowed when he heard that, like a cat that had just seen a mouse’s tail in a corner.

  “Ah, an interest, I see.” Tom tilted his head slightly, and Verek felt like he was looking directly at him.”Surely such interests would be…entirely unrelated to the invisible sun, right? No ever present light shining on us poor fools who prefer some privacy, right? No glorious work to be done?” Cumulus seemed to mull at that.

  “Again, do not worry. I mean no harm, will do no harm, and am not furthering, or will further, any particular goals. I simply wish to see.” He continued, moving his lips like he was swallowing a particularly bitter tea.

  “Ah, yes, sure.” Tom clapped his hands once.”But that’s the thing right? Seeing things, that’s all you people want to do, it sounds so simple. But you always end up bringing trouble to everyone else by doing that. But I suppose I must agree to it. I can’t win after all. You will simply rise and flutter away, and I will be the one to stay behind and pick up the pieces.”