Once upon a time...

[timefather]

[ For the residents of Märchenstraße, and all the land surrounding it, the eighth of December was a day to look forward to. Looking at it from an outside perspective, strangers and travelers could easily assume it to be a holiday. At the very least, a day for a festival, if a modest one. A day that shopkeeps spent all morning preparing for, that all manner of creatures spent days traveling to the city to witness. They'd heard the talk that passed around, the rumors from those still left. But would it work? No one knew for sure, no matter how confident the stories seemed to be. But hope was very quickly becoming all they had left.

They had decorated the whole town. Streamers, banners, wreathes and garland made of autumn flowers, plus whatever the Fairy Godmother had cooked up. Oh, she was just giddy. No skepticism could be spoken around her, not if you wanted to escape the wrath of her wand! Rumor had it that she had caught wind of a few piglets squealing about the likelihood that their magic would fail, and that they were subsequently transformed into the band of musicians who could be found performing in the park.

Well, at least the music was festive.

Of course, the decorations weren't for the newcomers alone. Autumn was coming to a close in just a few weeks, and Old Man Winter would take the reigns like he did every year, and their weather would turn cold and harsh. The chill was already there, cool and biting when the wind picked up speed. Lady Autumn was much preferred to the citizens of the city with her gentle nature, even if she failed to show up, finishing her work in the orchards instead. That was what they liked about her.

It was mid-morning when Father Time was found outside of his tower, checking one of the numerous pocket watches he kept on his person. "Unnecessary, but comfortable," he called them, and closed the watch again. It was twelve o'clock in the afternoon, and where empty space had been just seconds before, now they were. Sitting on benches, lying in flower patches, scattered about the city and outside of the gates in peaceful slumber. They would awaken to the bells of the clock tower. Some, to many friendly and relieved faces all around them, some to grateful ones carrying gifts of food and clothing and magic, and some to fearful, cautious faces. Regardless of how the town treated them, they would awaken to a celebration of their arrival, and choices to be made, and the books. Each and every one. ]

Comments

[bellbound]

[Well, if that's how it works, it shouldn't be a problem. He'd never willingly choose a master. The fact that the lamp already exists and seems to have his name on it (why else would he be "of the Lamp"?) is concerning, however. Perhaps it's meant for the Abhorsen. But if Sabriel was here, he would know. He'd have to know.]

If that is indeed who I am supposed to be, the people here will find themselves sorely disappointed.

[under_the_wire]

I think they're disappointed in me already. I can at least tell you what I know of djinn. "Biancabella" sounds like it might be a name, but it means nothing to me.

[All he knows is that seems like people have been trying to make him laugh or pull his hair for some reason.]

[bellbound]

I'm afraid it means nothing to me either.

[He pauses, adjusting the bag over his shoulder.]

Well, I think perhaps I shall go this way. [He indicates a different direction to their current path. Mogget is keen now to hide away the lamp, and he'll need to do that on his own.] What was your real name? I assume not Biancabella...

[under_the_wire]

[Ja'far makes a face.]

Certainly not. My name is Ja'far. Would you tell me yours?

[It can't hurt to start keeping track of all the people he meets here.]

[bellbound]

Mine is... [A strange look comes over him. His name. He can say it. There is no Charter here, no corruption strangling his words. But can he bear his true name without his true form?] I have had many names. The name I was using... am using, at present, is Mogget. It will do for now. Well met, Ja'far. Perhaps we'll meet again.

[He inclines his head, an acknowledgement of the help Ja'far has offered him, and turns to leave.]

[under_the_wire]

[Well, that's not the slightest bit suspicious...]

Best of luck in making your way in this place, Mogget.

[Ja'far bows and turns to continue on his own way, but not without making a mental note of the way Mogget has chosen to go.]