Today was Tuesday -- the second Tuesday in Summer, in fact -- and what a beautiful Tuesday it was. White puffy clouds scudded softly across the blue sky like cottony tortoises floating on their backs. Sunlight gleamed and twinkled on the gold and blue gilding of the village clock tower, which ticked and tocked and bonged nine times for the morning.

The wide open village square was full of wooden carts with baskets of unusually bright fruits, and bunches of flowers, and fresh-caught fish, and polished trinkets from the far end of the Long Road. A gaggle of children ran laughing through the square trailing a long-tailed kite in the sky above them, happily disturbing the customers of the Glass Key Cafe, who sat outside at little tables with their blueberry pancakes and apricot tea.

The mayor, this morning, was doing just that. Mayor Thistlecatch poured strawberry syrup on her pancakes and ate while she listened to the Pooths' latest security report.

The Pooths stood on the mayor's little wooden table in the square, huddled together and jabbering, while Boo Pooth cleared his throat. "Miss Agatha's feline companion was reported missing at five o-eight in the evening yesterday," Boo recited. "At five-fifteen we split up and commenced a search of the village for signs of Miss Agatha's feline companion. At ten-forty we reconvened and declared Miss Agatha's feline companion to have gone missing without a trace."

"That's the fourth one since last week," the mayor mused, and she took a thoughtful bite of blueberry pancake. "Has there been any activity at the watchmaker's shop?"

"No movement has been sighted or reported since Mister Skilton was last seen at the Glass Key Cafe on Sunday last week at eight o-five in the evening according to Miss Lark." Boo stood straight and solemn before his siblings, who tittered and fidgeted behind him.

"Well, keep an eye on the shop for me, will you? Thank you for the update." The mayor bowed her head with a smile, and the Pooths saluted her and clambered their way off the table, their little bells jingling.

Mayor Thistlecatch opened to the last page of her sketchbook and resumed work on her drawing of the clock tower. The days were clear and peaceful -- and if the only problems plaguing the village lay in missing cats and a reclusive watchmaker, there was little for the mayor to do but to watch and to listen to the hum of the village.

Nich's Niche Needs stood on a fairly busy road. Any passersby would see the owner's latest creations on display in the window, along with a little placard naming the device, but offering no description as to it's purpose. Nich didn't feel such detail was necessary, though, as he thought the names spoke for themselves. After all, there were only so many things that "spring boots" could do. Nich sat in the back room with his toolbox open, tinkering on his latest contraption. He wasn't sure what it did yet, but it wound up and had some moving bits, so there was that. Most people walking by would think the shop was empty; Nich liked to keep the backroom door closed so nobody could steal his ideas, but once a customer came in...

The door opened. The top of the door pulled on a wire running along the wall of the shop and into the back room. The force of the wire sent some tiny gears in motion, and they caused an iron strip to rattle around inside a brass dome, making a loud ringing sound. In a matter of seconds, the jovial rat scurried out from the back with a bright grin on his face. "Welcome! Welcome! What brings you here on this beautiful summer day?"

The customer reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pocket watch. "It seems to have stopped working," he said. "I wind it, but I don't hear anything. Perhaps you could take a look at it?"

Nich's entire body seemed to droop a bit upon seeing the watch. "Yes. I can look at it. I can fix it too. But, please, while I'm working, do take a look around. There are so many more interesting things than watches!"

The customer gave a cordial smile. "It certainly looks like it, but I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a hurry. May I drop the watch off and pick it up later."

Nich tried to hide his dejected sigh. "Yes. It'll be done tomorrow. Let me just take your information..." And so he filled out a ticket, and put the watch under the counter on a shelf labeled "later." The customer tipped his hat and went about his business, and then Nich shook his head, looking at the stack of five watch pickups he was expecting today. It was a strange turn of events, that watchmaker's disappearance. Nich had never considered himself a competitor with the old man. He didn't sell watches; he sold everything else. Unfortunately, with the watchmaker's shop closed, people came to him as their next resort. New customers were always good, and he couldn't complain about the boost in profits. But fixing watches every day? Bah! Where was the fun in that?

Nothing would get past Anzo's watchful eye! That is, if he was actually paying attention and urm... in his tower.

"Another meat 'n' cheese sandwich." The dung beetle was avoiding his duties at his usual getaway spot, and he was enjoying every second of his self-given break. Grabbing his food as soon as possible, he left enough money before getting up to return to his post at a snail's pace, not being especially eager to return to his tower. Guarding was one of the most boring occupations, comprised entirely of waiting, waiting, in addition to waiting some more. The ease of the job was part of the reason the bug took up the job, along with part of the reason he wasn't engaged in it. Greeting his fellows villagers the whole walk, his tower eventually came in range.

"Ahh, finally get to relax," Anzo said to himself before plopping down in his chair atop the tower and taking out his sandwich. It was such a beautiful day. The big beetle started gobbling on his sandwich. The sun was out and the clouds were perfectly puffy. His sandwich was really good, and so all was good. Looking around, he just took it all in. Birds soaring, children playing, and the clock tower ticking, getting to see the village in action from so high up was definitely one of the perks to being a guard.

Anzo made a note to himself on the way down to look at it some more, after he got another sandwich, of course. Nothing seriously bad ever happened in Winding, so he didn't have to be in his tower. Well, at least that's what Anzo thought as he bought sandwiches for him and some compadres, once again neglecting his duties.

Father Mortain had risen early, as was his custom, to jaunt through the fields and wilderland beyond the village. Men his age had to make an effort to remain in even passable physical condition. He only had to remember the graybeard elders of the seminary to convince himself that such was necessary. Sallow skin, sunken cheeks. It was enough to make Mortain shudder. It was no way for a man to go out, if he could help it.

And if, while on his morning trek, he happened to keep an eye out for the watchmaker, more's the good. Unfortunately, the good Father had spotted neither hide nor hair of the man since he disappeared last week. Naram willing, he would turn up soon, and unharmed. Perhaps he had taken a trip out of town, and had merely neglected to tell anyone? Skilton seemed like the forgetful type, and frankly that suggestion seemed more and more likely as Mortain considered it.

He breathed deeply as he passed alongside a barley field. Whatever small matters troubled the people of Winding, it remained the loveliest bit of country in all the land, and he was glad to be its priest.

---

In time, Mortain came to the high wooden tower from which Anzo, a most unusual guard, generally kept watch. Generally, that is, unless he was busy doing something else. Which he often seemed to be. The bug meant well, he supposed, but couldn't help but wonder that perhaps he was a touch... Unqualified.

In the spirit of brotherhood, the priest considered waving up to Anzo as he passed. As he could not actually see him up there, he quickly decided against it.

He's always going to and fro. You'll have a chance to greet him later, he thought.

Fair enough.

---

His bare feet sounding softly on the paving stones, Mortain made way toward the shops near the center of town. His ongoing collection effort was not going terribly well. His parishioners gave generously enough- that was true. No one could deny that. But fixing the shrine's roof looked to be an expensive proposition. Certainly more expensive than he had hoped. Unless he was going to request funds from the Archpriest, which was not a thought he relished at all, he would have to reach out to the local business community. To call upon their sense of charity and decency. Oh, and the Mayor. He would have to ask her, as well.

He wasn't particularly looking forward to that, either. Not that she was unreasonable. For such a young mayor, she had actually proved to be both unusually competent and unusually reasonable. He suspected that her father would have been very proud of her performance thus far. Even so, he hated the idea of asking someone who was for all her ability still just a young girl for help. It seemed like an unnecessary burden for him to place on her.

Well, he thought, a thin smile playing across his lips, if the shopkeepers are sufficiently forthcoming, I won't even have to ask the Mayor.

He came to the door of Nich's Niche Needs, a shop that was as fascinating as its name was difficult to say quickly. Though he had visited many times, he had trouble recalling a time when he had actually purchased anything there. With any luck Nich wouldn't mind. Business went rather well for him, did it not?

Pushing the door open, Mortain passed within, his eyes slowly adjusting to the change in lighting. He glanced about, seeing the shopkeeper nowhere in evidence. The fellow was in the back, he supposed, clearing his throat.

“Nich?” he called, peering briefly at some oddity nearby.

“Are you in? I was hoping to have a word with you.”

Upon hearing a customer, Nich immediately scuttled out of the back room. "Gah, why didn't the buzzer go off? The buzzer is always supposed to go off!" He scurried past Father Mortain to examine the door, which seemed to have consumed the entirety of his attention. "Are you sure you opened the door emphatically enough?" He tested the door, giving it a gentle swing, and then a wide one seeing if there was any different. His ears twitched, listening for any buzz coming from the back room, but alas, nothing. "I swear if it's vandals again I'll..." Then he noticed that the attachment clip has simply come undone from the door. He cleared his throat, reattached it with a single, swift gesture, and relished in the sound of his delightful buzzer going off in the back room.

Finally, the priest had his attention. "My apologies, the last customer must have knocked it loose on his way out. But I assure you, my home security systems don't use this outdated model. Oh, my no! See how easily it came off? No good. Needs to be changed. I just haven't had the time to replace my own. Too busy developing new razor coils for... well, that's not important. A man of the cloth has no need for violent things. Though, far be it from me to judge if you do have a need for such things. Only the gods may judge." He gave a laugh and went to shake Mortain's hand, giving the priest a brief respite from his rapid-fire ramblings.

"Ah, but where are my manners. Welcome Father..." He hesitated for a moment trying to remember the priest's name, but for the life of him he could only think of varying gear radii, so he just left it at, "Father! To what do I owe this honorable visit? Is the church in need of some updated security? Please don't tell me some vandal is prowling about sticking his hand in the donation box at night. Unthinkable! Unspeakable! But, I can lock up that box nice and tight for you if you like. Money goes in, and it only comes out when the Father comes with the key. I can even offer a clergy discount. 20% off the catalog price. Would you like to browse my catalog, or did you have something specific in mind?"

The rat looked up at Father Mortain with an eager grin. It wasn't often that holy men visited his store, and if his insatiable curiosity wasn't already obvious, it would explain away some of his... enthusiasm.

When Kahya had arrived just a day and a half earlier, her hand hung awkwardly from her arm, she could barely stand, and blue eyes were red with tears and exhaustion. Now, she was sick of laying in bed and felt an urge to explore the Winding. Gossip and mushy food was not enough for the woman. While she still appeared tired and sad beyond her years, she stood tall with a focused gaze. Her dark skin had returned to a natural, flushed tone. Her broken wrist sat stiffened in a sling over her neck, and the heavy outter layer of her clothes and armor and supplies and weapons had been removed. She was almost a whole new person.

There were a few impolite stares as she walked, but Kahya paid them no mind. The village was no where as large as the city she hailed from, and she supposed it was easy to identify her as a stranger. As she approached the center of town, she heard her stomach rumble; her first instinct was to look around to see if anyone else had heard. Satisfied that no one did, she began her search for a meal. The fruit smelled sweet and the fish...like fish, but neither would make much of a meal.

And then she got a whiff of pastries and sweet tea and warm bread. She looked up at Glass Key Cafe; she still struggled with the written language, but she recognized cafe well enough. She was getting ahead of herself when she stopped and patted at her pockets with her good hand. She chewed on the inside of her cheek in concentration until finally pulling out a few gold and silver coins from Kahndaq. Hopefully they would do, so in she walked to squint at the menu.

It was the day of days. The day when the sky was its bluest, the wind was its windiest, and the town was its...towniest. It was as if the planets had aligned to create the sweetest of summer days when absolutely nothing could go wrong.

"HELP!"

Almost nothing.

A dark blur streaked cut through the cerulean sky like a knife, a trail of soft brown feathers falling in its wake. Birds squpacked in alarm as the tumbling form fell through the air at rapid speed. A set of wings outstretched before the landing, stifled the descent. Slowly the fell. But not slow enough. With a yelp of pain and surprise, the young harpy collided with the ground, talons flipping over beak as he gradually rolled to a stop. "Nailed it," he groaned as he shakily pushed himself up. Deino gazed around, the landscape tilting and whirling as he boggled mind adjusted from the fall. It wasn't his first bad landing, nor was it the worst, but it still took a while before the blurs before him became a familiar site.

Winding. A bustling little town with a life full of merriment and quirk. And, sitting before him with a dazzling aroma drifting from its entrance, was a familiar little restaruant. Deino smiled to himself in satisfaction. The Glass Key Cafe. The perfect place to sit back and take a break. Brushing the dust off his feathers and sending a sheepish greeting to the onlookers that managed to catch is, ah...interesting...arrival, Deino hurried into the establishment.

"That was quite the fall there, you alright?" Anzo asked the harpy as he strolled towards him, a look of concern on his insectoid face.

Deino looked up as the large beetle approached him, his face flushing in embarrassment. "I'm fine," he said with a nervous smile. "I'm used to crashing all the time. Thanks, though." He felt his shoulders relax as he noticed the other customers lose interest and turn away, but his jumpy demeanor remained. Though this bug fellow was certainly friendly, new people were always nerve wracking to talk to.

The big bug felt some sympathy for the distressed harpy before determining he'd like to befriend the little winged creature. "Well, me and the mates are having some sandwiches if you'd like to join us," he invited the fallen flier with a warm buggy smile. "It'd be on me by the way."

The harpy felt his cheeks heat up further, his words a stuttering mess at the bug's welcome. First a crash, and now a total stranger was paying for his meal? What a mess he was! Deino meekly nodded thankfully, his talons scratching nervously at the wooden floor. Despite Deino's stumbling start, the beetle was kind in his actions, and there'd be no harm in making a few friends. Besides, who'd turn down a free meal? "I would like that very much," he said with his fragile voice, "Thank you, Mister...?" The harpy paused. "I don't believe I caught your name, kind sir. I'm Deino."

"Hello Deino. You can just call me Anzo. And no problem, it's your tax money anyways," the guard joked--well, technically it wasn't a joke considering his paycheck was the people's taxes--prior to ambling over to his table. Seated in his chair once again, he motioned for the restaurant employees to bring them more sandwiches. "I'm a town guardsman, what is it you do?"

"Wait, what?!" Deino stared at the guard with a panicked expression, though any question remained unspoken as Anzo returned to his seat. The harpy hurried after, wincing as his wing or tail feathers accidentally knocked over a glass or two before sitting across from the beetl. He fiddled with his satchel, eyes hungrily flickering to the sandwiches for a moment before turning back to his new companion. "I'm a courier," he explained. "I deliver messages, packages, birthday cards--whatever anyone needs sending, really." The soft tremor in his voice melted away as he continued to describe his job, a semblance of comfort in his form as he straightened up. "I'm actually quite good at it. Never have I delivered a package late in years."

"Impressive. Guess we both work for the government, and ultimately the people then, aye? But you're probably a little better at your job than I am at mine, heh," he said while a plate of sandwiches landed on their segment of the table. Anzo grabbed one of the sandwiches, proceeded to wolf it down, and nudged the plate towards Deino, wanting him to eat. It was only when the bug was chewing that he recognized the glasses his new friend knocked over, but he didn't bring it up or make a joke at his companion's expense, not wanting him to embarass him. Most of his attention was consumed by something else anyways. "Hey uh, ya happen to hear about that watchmaker?"

"I guess we do." Deino smiled softly as he eagerly took a sandwich, quickly devouring it in two bites. The meal was heaven on his tongue, and he eagerly reached for more. He had left his tree with a full tank of energy, but flying long distances always left him tired and starving. Several rations of snacks and seeds were settled in his satchel for any emergencies, but there was nothing better than a platter of food to really revive him.

His head tilted ponderingly at the mention of the watchmaker. The man was no stranger to him, but he was far from being a familiar face. There several times in the past he'd visited the shop. Quick little visits that merited little attention. Time pieces that had shattered from falls or became waterlogged from rain. They were either fixed or replaced quickly enough hat memories of visiting the store were vague and faded. What did persist in his mind, however, was a certain sense of curiosity upon entering the shop and, ultimately, meeting its owner. He was a strange bloke, who seemed more at home with the cogs of clocks than their owners. Not that Deino minded, not really. He felt the same wah with an open sky and fresh air. "Somewhat," he admitted. Letters came and went, the news and rumors blending into a fine mush that the harpy slowly learned not to mind them all too much unless they were interesting or important. Most of them weren't. "I hope he's alright."

"Damn, you were really hungry, weren''t you?" Anzo commented after seeing how quickly his new companion devoured the sandwich and reached for another while the dung beetle had only eaten a little over half of his food. He gave a small smile before opening up his sack, allowing out the stench of dung, a small notebook, along with a pencil, and the big bug looked at him inquistively. Having recently been told from some of his friends at the tavern about the watchmaker, he couldn't help but feel a little guilty. Someone had gone missing under his watch... or lack thereof. It might've been nothing and Anzo really hoped it was, but if it wasn't nothing he'd never be able to forgive himself. He had to know that Old Man Skilton, a member of the beloved village he swore to protect, was okay.
"I hope so too. No one in here knows where he's gone, but maybe you can help me. Have you heard anything? Anything at all?"

Deino tapped a finger on the wooden table, brows creasing in concentration. For once, he actually wished he's paid more attention to those letters. "I'm afraid not," he admiited apologetically, bowing his head slightly. "Just that he's kept to himself a lot more than usual lately." His eyes lit up with an idea. "If you's like, the two of us can go to town and ask around?" The harpy rummaged around in his dack before drawing out a banged up compass. Its needle spun in nonsensical directions, and the bronze back looked dented and worn. "I've been meaning to head over Nich's myself to get this fixed." He smiled ethusiastically at the chance to help his new friend.

"Well, that's still something I suppose," the beetle wrote it down then returned it to its pouch in his bag. He nodded when offered help from his new companion. "We can ask around on the way. I'd like to take a look around at his shop in case there's any clues, but I need to get a warrant from the mayor first."

Deino taking out his compass caused the big beetle caused him to remember his own object that neeeded fixing: his telescope. He must've left it there for an eternity! How could he have forgotten it? It plays a critical role in making sure there's no trouble afoot in the village! Anzo knew why and felt a pang of guilt before paying attention to Deino again.

"I have to head to Nich's after too. Well, might as well go there together, aye?" The guard said as he left more than enough money on the table to pay for the sandwiches before wrapping up the remainding few, holding them instead of placing them inside of the poop-filled bag.

"Sounds like a plan." He turned to the exit, walking ahead as he, this time carefully, made his way out the door.

The walk to Nich's was quick enough. Deino walked beside his newfound friend, chatting along with Anzo. Well, listening more like. Still, it put the harpy in a cheery mood and before he knew it, they were at the store.

Anzo pushed the door open and saw Niche and Father conversing. "Good morning Father, Niche," he said before dropping the meat 'n' cheese sandwich on Niche's desk and strolling off to the side of the room, not wanting to interrupt their business. He'd wait for his turn.

Deino gave the two a small wave before following Anzo along to the side. He reached for his broken Compass and tapped a small rythym on the bent brass, patiently waiting.

“Nich?” he called, peering briefly at some oddity nearby. “Are you in? I was hoping to have a word with you.”

"Father! To what do I owe this honorable visit? Is the church in need of some updated security? Please don't tell me some vandal is prowling about sticking his hand in the donation box at night. Unthinkable! Unspeakable! But, I can lock up that box nice and tight for you if you like. Money goes in, and it only comes out when the Father comes with the key. I can even offer a clergy discount. 20% off the catalog price. Would you like to browse my catalog, or did you have something specific in mind?"

Anzo pushed the door open and saw Niche and Father conversing. "Good morning Father, Niche," he said before dropping the meat 'n' cheese sandwich on Niche's desk and strolling off to the side of the room, not wanting to interrupt their business. He'd wait for his turn.

Deino gave the two a small wave before following Anzo along to the side. He reached for his broken Compass and tapped a small rythym on the bent brass, patiently waiting.

Nich's shop was as quiet as it ever had been: brass and gears shimmered and tinkled every time a footstep fell; somewhere machines whirred and clacked softly; something bright flashed and skittered underneath a bookcase and was gone. Sunlight filtered through the shaded windows and glinted on bells and baubles, sprockets and hinges. A comfortable aroma of tarnish and copper draped the little shop in warmth.

A calico cat with long white whiskers leaped softly atop Nich's desk. With a wriggling pink nose she advanced upon the sandwich that Anzo had left there, and she began to nibble at the cheese.

Nich didn't own a cat.

Outside the window, the village was gently bustling. A boy jogged past with a covered cake in his arms. A gaggle of schoolgirls were selling flowers at the side of the road. The Pooths trickled along the curb in a single file, hopping and squeaking as they liked to do. The fire brigade blundered past at a hurried speed, ringing bells and shouting at someone to let them by. They were gone in a moment.

After a few taps of Deino's finger, the needle of his dented compass swung erratically, as had been its charm -- but then, the needle straightened like an arrow and pointed resolutely. It maintained a precise direction, now, no matter which way the compass was turned. Surely, Deino had just corrected the problem with only a few taps!

If only it were pointing North. The needle was steadfast in its insistence that South-West was the correct direction, and would not be convinced otherwise.

Gears ticked and springs squeaked, as was the usual ambiance of Nich's Niche Needs. Dust drifted in the swaths of sunlight that glowed through the windows.

A woman with long tawny hair and a flowing yellow sun-dress sprinted past the shop window. She stopped, and she ran backwards to peer through into Nich's store; her face, neck and arms were heavily tattooed in intricate patterns, which always made Miss Agatha instantly recognizable by anyone who had only met her once.

Miss Agatha's almond eyes opened wide in recognition, and she yanked open the door -- nearly breaking Nich's doorbell apparatus in her hurry -- and shouted at Father Mortain:

"Father! The shrine is on fire!"

---

She looked up at Glass Key Cafe; she still struggled with the written language, but she recognized cafe well enough. She was getting ahead of herself when she stopped and patted at her pockets with her good hand. She chewed on the inside of her cheek in concentration until finally pulling out a few gold and silver coins from Kahndaq. Hopefully they would do, so in she walked to squint at the menu.

Inside the Glass Key Cafe was a quaint and clean atmosphere, all blues and whites and polished glass. Several flavors of coffee -- vanilla and chocolate and hazelnut and cinnamon -- bubbled against the wall with warm mugs for pouring. Blueberry pancakes seemed to be all the rage at the moment; a table full of children squealed and shot orange juice at each other with straws; a young man sat at the counter with his back to Kahya, a floppy hat over his head, writing in a small notebook and eating spoonfuls of pomegranate seeds; a round middle-aged woman with bright red scraggled hair laughed heartily while she arranged flowers on a table. The double doors had been left wide open to the tables outside, where a single waitress with long feathered ears glided to and fro on roller skates, her arms full of plates.

The mayor padded into the cafe, carrying her own empty mug in hopes for a refill. Her ears perked at the sight of Kahya, and she approached without hesitation. Strangers weren't terribly uncommon in Winding -- it was a quaint vacation spot that attracted all sorts of sightseers, hence the souvenir shops and weekly tours -- but Kahya did not appear to be a common vacationer.

"I highly recommend the pancakes," the mayor told Kahya, smiling warmly up to her. "The blueberries were fresh-picked this morning, and the batter is a new recipe the lovely cook I know is very proud of."

The waitress returned from outside with another stack of used plates. "I'll be right with you!" she called as she rolled past Kahya -- and only then did she notice that she'd never seen this strange new customer before. The waitress turned her head, staring and transfixed in curiosity, until her skate hit the leg of a chair and she went tripping and stumbling forward with a high-pitched yelp.

CRASH CLATTERSMASH

A saucer rolled out of the carnage and gently struck Kahya's foot.

The man in the floppy hat closed his notebook and quickly dashed away, leaving half his pomegranate uneaten and the whole of his meal unpaid.

The rotund red-haired woman rushed to help the groaning waitress to her feet, and the children jumped on their chairs and squealed. The mayor knelt to help pick up broken pieces of plates.

Outside, the fire brigade trundled down the road, all bells and shouts and whistles that faded away into the distance.

Kahya was taken off guard by the young girl, and she blinked down at her with widened blue eyes. How strange it was to be approached so confidently by someone so young. Still, she returned the smile and nodded slowly. "Thank you," she said politely. "I'd love to try them." The atmosphere of the cafe was completely magical, and Kahya was in wonder. The peacefulness was something she desperately needed after her recent hardships-- Though suddenly, it was disrupted.

Kahya's eyes followed the graceful waitress after being called at and she offered a shy wave in thanks. But when she crashed, Kahya flinched and squinted against the sudden commotion. "Ah...I'm sorry," she said before her attention was stolen by the man in the floppy hat retreating. She narrowed her eyes at his urgency, but dismissed it, distracted by the loud noises outside for just a moment.

"My, what is going on?" she asked, turning to the girl to see her picking up pieces of the mess. At that, Kahya knelt as well, using her good hand to gingerly place a few pieces in the girl's hand.

Nich's store did well enough for him to make a living off of, but the store rarely got this busy. The poor rat hardly knew how to handle all the customers. "Excuse me for a moment, will you father? Hello, hello! Welcome! I'll be with both of you momentarily. Just need to finish up some business with the father and-- Oi! Not so rough on the door! If you break it then-- A fire!? Oh dear, I'd better let you go, father. I'll be here when you get back. Don't worry, I won't up and disappear like that watchmaker. Now then..."

The priest rushed out of the shop to tend to the church, and Nich was able to turn his attention to the other two... He locked eyes with the creature sitting on his counter. It was a dainty little thing, and most people would have found the way it picked at Anzo's cheese sandwich adorable. But, Nich saw razor sharp claws and voracious fangs tearing at its prey. The rat took a step back away from the beast as he desperately tried to maintain his pleasant salesman's mask. It's just a house cat. We're prepared for this... "I-I'm s-sorry... If you t-two will e-excuse me for j-just a m-moment..." With each word he took a step closer to the back of the store, and finally slipped into his back room.

There was some rustling, muffled grumbling, and a crash, but a few moments later Nich emerged clutching what looked like a fishing net. He crouched low and approached his counter with silent footsteps, apparently ignorant of the fact that he was plainly visible to the cat. He stood a few feet away, hoping the sandwich would keep the beast distracted and raised the net. His hand was trembling, but he took a deep breath and pushed a button on the handle of the net. Suddenly, the handle extended, putting the cat right in range. In one swift motion, he brought the net down, shrieking, "Begone ye vandalous beast!"

"My, what is going on?" she asked, turning to the girl to see her picking up pieces of the mess. At that, Kahya knelt as well, using her good hand to gingerly place a few pieces in the girl's hand.

The young girl thanked the stranger, soon collecting a precarious pile of ceramic pieces. She glanced behind them at the open doors and the retreating sirens, and the gaggle of cafe patrons who craned their necks to perchance see the same. "There's quite a bit going on, I'm afraid," she admitted, "but no one has yet determined the cause."

A bucket was provided, and the clumsy waitress swept up the rest of the dishware in a flurry of apology. "Oh, Mayor Thistlecatch! Please leave the cleanup to me, I'm so sorry!" She extended her hands, and the mayor accepted the help to climb to her feet, smiling. The waitress immediately reached down to Kahya with the same offer. "Miss, I am so, so sorry, I'm suck a klutz! And here I'd hoped to make a good impression on you. Welcome to Winding, haha. Let me get you a stack of pancakes and a mug, on the house. I insist."

The waitress insisted that Kahya take a seat at the counter, then disappeared to retrieve a specially made breakfast from the kitchen.

The mayor continued to stare out the open doors for awhile, hoping for some sign of what was happening or for a report from the Pooths, at least -- but it seemed she would have to wait. There was another matter at hand that required her attention. She climbed into the seat next to Kahya, curious and concerned.

"I'm Rune Thistlecatch," she said with a gentle smile, and accepted a mug of tea that the cook had slid into her hands. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I mean not to pry, but you're not here as a tourist, are you?"

A fresh stack of blueberry pancakes, a saucer of butter and a boat of syrup appeared in front of Kahya, soon accompanied by a generous mug of coffee. The blueberries in these pancakes looked bigger and slightly more violet than the average fruit, and had a strange yet delicious aroma that begged to be drizzled in apricot syrup.

The mayor continued: "Please allow me to assist you in any way I can."

---

His hand was trembling, but he took a deep breath and pushed a button on the handle of the net. Suddenly, the handle extended, putting the cat right in range. In one swift motion, he brought the net down, shrieking, "Begone ye vandalous beast!"

The Father had rushed out of the shop, followed closely by Miss Agatha, toward the smoke on the horizon that marked the burning shrine -- but this was far from the most alarming of disasters for the day. A cat had snuck into the Niche!

The net swung down, and the cat reacted. In a split second it grabbed the sandwich between its little sharp teeth and scrambled out from under the net in the nick of time, flinging bits of cheese and crumbles of bread in all directions. The demonic feline streaked like a furry cannonball across the room, slammed into a shelf-ful of gadgets with a cacophonous clatter, launched into another direction, vaulted onto another shelf and toppled a collection of Very Important Merchandise, scrabbled and leaped again, which might have upset the entire shelving unit had Nich not been clever enough to secure it to the floor and ceiling. By this time, most of the sandwich had been left behind in pieces throughout the disheveled store, so that only a morsel was left in the cat's mouth as it darted past Nich's feet, bounded up onto the mantle and dove into a brass-framed mirror on the wall.

And then, it was gone -- gone through the mirror as easily as if it were an open window. There were no ripples, no magical lights, no odd colors, nothing remotely out-of-the-ordinary to indicate that this mirror was anything but a mirror, and it was as solid as could be -- but if Nich were to ponder it, he might find that he would not quite remember where this particular mirror had come from, nor how long it had been hanging on the wall. It seemed to have always been there, and yet maybe he had never seen it before. The mirror showed his reflection, and the reflection of the ransacked shop, as clearly as any mirror should, save for one minor detail.

In the mirror's reflection, the cat was curled up on the windowsill behind him, munching on the sandwich remains -- but in reality, the windowsill was quite empty, and the cat was nowhere at all.

Kahya blinked at the waitress' exasperation and she looked around. Mayor? she wondered. She started to stand to look for someone with that sort of authority as the waitress helped her up instead. "Thank you," she managed to spit out in the waitress' frenzy. She was patient as she was guided to the counter and sat down, thanking the woman again. She took the moment of silence to breathe and gather her thoughts when it clicked: the waitress had called the girl "Mayor."

"Oh," Kahya mused, eye flickering to Rune as she introduced herself. And now that she did, Kahya found it easier to believe this young woman was indeed the authority here. She was patient and observant for her age and Kahya found herself relaxing further. "No, I'm not a tourist," she confirmed, gaze flickering to the outside again. "My name is Kahya Tarom. I'm... an explorer? From far south." She supposed that was the most simplistic way to explain it. She may have continued, but her stomach interrupted with a growl as the plate of pancakes were placed in front of her.

Awestruck, she gasped quietly in her native language: the food in front of her was absolutely divine. Somehow, she found the strength to refrain from digging in like a madwoman and opted to politely sip her coffee instead. Clearing her throat, she looked back to the young and generous mayor. "I don't wish to burden you, Rune Thistlecatch. But I would greatly appreciate somewhere to stay as I recover." She glanced down at her poor wrist. Kahya was kind and gentle, but she wore her pride on her sleeve. "I can work in return."

Getting really bored really quickly, Anzo's eyes were instantly attracted to the freshly appeared cat as she stole some cheese from the sandwich left for Nich, and the irony of a rodent owning a pet cat made him smirk, on top of the fact that she was so cuuttteeee; merely not petting the cat felt wrong. Something so kawaii deserved to be spoiled. The urge to give this cat everything, especially all of the pieces of cheese from all of his sandwiches, almost overcame him, but the dung beetle narrowly managed to restrain himself.

Just outside the villager's daily routine briefly caught his attention, but the fire brigade's rush made him pay attention a bit longer. As bells, shouts, and whistles got farther and farther away, Anzo's fear for the citizens of his beloved village deepened. The watchmaker has disappeared, a part of his village is burning, and he was just standing there doing nothing like he always does. Miss Agatha bursted into Nich's Niche Needs with news of what it is that was burning: the shrine.

The sound of Nich bringing down his net in an attempt to capture the cat brought Anzo back to reality. Huh. Unfortunately adorableness didn't stop the cat from wrecking the shop. Cat now darting around knocking things over, the guard grabbed as many gadgets as he could before they hit the floor, attempting to limit the damage as much as possible. Eventually the little furry imp flew into a mirror and seemingly disappeared, causing Anzo to gape with a "Did that really just happen?" written all over his face. Upon further inspection he noticed a difference between reality and its reflection. In the mirror, a cat sits on a windowsill eating what remained of the sandwich. In reality, there's no cat or sandwich to be found.

Anzo didn't believe in anything mystical and usually only believed in the things he sees, but the big bug was just in a state of shock. How can a cat hop into a mirror as if it were some kind of other world?

"Nevermind Nich, I'll come for the telescope later. There's, uh, more urgent matters I need to deal with. Come on Deino." Winding isn't alright. Something was up and Anzo needed to find out what before more shit happens. All of these events must be connected in someway, but right now a building was burning and the fire brigade may need some help.

While the beetle usually doesn't, Anzo extended his wings before flying to the shrine. Hopefully everyone would be okay.

"My name is Kahya Tarom. I'm... an explorer? From far south. I don't wish to burden you, Rune Thistlecatch. But I would greatly appreciate somewhere to stay as I recover." She glanced down at her poor wrist. Kahya was kind and gentle, but she wore her pride on her sleeve. "I can work in return."

The mayor noted Kahya's injury with concern, but the traveler was clearly embarrassed by the handicap. Out of respect it would not be mentioned at present. Rune's expression brightened at the mention of work.

"There are plenty of empty rooms at the castle," she urged, enthusiastic at the idea of filling even one of those beds. "More food than any of us could possibly eat -- especially after this season's harvest -- and we've recently lost our tour guide. If you're willing to learn the histories of the marsh and the castle, and to be patient with the tourists, you are most certainly hired." She laughed a little. "Our previous guide quit out of fear of the marsh ghosts -- he said they followed him home each night and drank his goatsmilk. They're lovely, though, once you get to know them."

As they were talking, the cafe had quieted to a concerned din -- the patrons wandered out the doors and gathered among the tables outside, craning their necks to see the plume of dark smoke that tainted the sky. Murmurs arose about the shrine on the next street, the sudden unexplained conflagration, and a sighting of the missing watchmaker. The fire brigade's warning bells clanged in the distance.

The mayor looked back out the open doors, and her mouth thinned to a firm line. She gave Kahya an apologetic smile as she stood. "I'm sorry to leave you abruptly, but I'm needed elsewhere. Please enjoy your breakfast. Take your time to think about the offer, and come by the Castle Willow whenever you like. I'll tell the guard to let you through." She bowed her head. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Kahya. I hope to see you again soon."

She walked with no little hurry to the doors, where the Pooths yabbered and hopped for her attention, pointing at the smoke. A shadow passed over the crowd, and she looked up to see Anzo buzzing on his way to the scene in rare flight. The mayor broke into a run in his wake, suddenly overcome by a deep dread in her stomach.

The cafe was nearly empty by this time, but the clumsy waitress stayed behind with an encouraging smile and a refill for Kahya's coffee. "The healer's place is on the next corner," the waitress mentioned offhandedly. "It looks like a hokey herbology shop, but it's where we all go for our scrapes and sniffles. Louroy will fix you right up. You can tell him Lark sent you." She grinned with a wiggle of her feathered ears.

---

Winding isn't alright. Something was up and Anzo needed to find out what before more shit happens. All of these events must be connected in someway, but right now a building was burning and the fire brigade may need some help.

While the beetle usually doesn't, Anzo extended his wings before flying to the shrine. Hopefully everyone would be okay.

Anzo's flight allowed him a birds-eye view of the gaggles of townsfolk who gathered with curious concern in the town square, and of the small yellow-haired mayor who cut through the crowd in her hurry toward the bells and billows of dark smoke. The smell of burning wood hung heavy on the breeze; as Anzo drew closer he could hear the dull roar of flames, then see the bright flames flashing deep in the smoke.

The shrine was famous as a point of interest in Winding: it was certainly one of the oldest buildings, dating back to the giants and the dragon-battles of the marsh. Its red columns and ornate carvings and peaceful still ponds had secured its reputation as an ancient place of peace and reflection, a favorite of the townsfolk who wanted a little time to breathe and to think.

Now the shrine billowed with dark smoke, and the pond was angry with the reflections of red flames. The fire brigade scurried throughout the shrine grounds carrying buckets and axes; their wagon was parked in the lawn, and two brigadeers worked the pump while two more aimed the water hose at the worst of the inferno. A stained-glass window exploded in a bloom of smoke and fire, showering a flower bed with colored shards. Though the brigade fought valiantly, it seemed clear this was a losing battle.

Anzo's fellow guards held the gawking crowd back away from the edge of the grounds, but their pleas to remain calm fell on deaf ears. A hysterical shriek rose above even the thunder of the flames: "MIA! MIA'S STILL IN THERE! LET ME THROUGH! MIA!"

Faintly, Anzo might hear the terrified scream of a girl inside the shrine.

A few of the fire brigade suited up and rushed into the inferno -- but a blast of heat and smoke sent them tumbling back. Others hacked away at the walls, trying to create a new door through which they could find and rescue Mia -- every minute seemed like an eternity. Townsfolk from the crowd rushed the shrine with their own axes and buckets to the aid of the brigade.

On the empty road -- while everyone's attention was on the burning shrine -- the watchmaker ducked into an alley and ran with long shaky strides toward the marsh.