The Haunt of Danzig Ruin

Enemy Mine

      

          And still the thread wrapped doll abided in their quarters. Its movements were now so slow they were almost imperceptible, but move, it did.
Upon first arrival into the Dream Plain it moved enough throughout the day to topple off the little side table where it sat. In doing this, a great crack appeared down the center of its porcelain cherub face.
Months later, after another fall, the face actually cracked open, but the threads arranged themselves about the head to keep the two halves together. So it now looked blind folded and gagged.
It did not take long at all for Petrich to snatch up the wretched creature into a common knapsack, cinch it tightly closed and there it remained.
After years of apparently sleeping in the knapsack, which hung on a coat rack hook next to Petrich's trusty umbrella, it was essentially quite rightly forgotten. Just another knapsack to sling over one's shoulder when leaving for the day.
The supplies needed for the contract bond tapestry were procured much like how all things were received in The Dream Plain. No seeming exchange of monies, no real interaction with shopkeepers nor tradesmen.
Nora never took any of this advantage for granted, having been raised by a businessman father who had been a little too close to bankruptcy from time to time. The same was true for Petrich, whose river boatman father scrimped together the little he could to send his ten year old son to Justitia to learn to read star charts and scribe.
Upon opening the special ordered tapestry canvas and perfectly displayed threads of the finest Houck wool, Nora simply sat and stared in awe.
"It was never meant to be paint on parchment, was it?" she asked rather dreamily, as Petrich took inventory. "It was to be a tapestry all along. The stars had already seen. . .did you know this? Did the skeleton tell you this?"
"Hmm," Petrich mused, "I am of the belief that skeletons have no preference of medium used. An interesting hypothesis, though, worth experimenting someday."
"Yes, one of the many tasks I have planned for when we ultimately arrive back home." Nora replied with resolution.
Just then, they heard what sounded like a gathering crowd of students below in the courtyard. Nora went to the window and looked down upon a crowd of approximately a hundred and more coming.
"What's happening?" Nora asked once Petrich joined her at the window.
"Oh! I had forgotten!" Petrich replied, slapping his forehead, "They were going to announce who had been invited to sit with the board of regents at the unveiling ceremony. Some what of a celebrity master scribe, I suppose."
"Gracious! Just an announcement? Everyone's acting as if this celebrity master scribe were about to arrive!"
Petrich laughed and raised the window to hear better.
"Commissions come to those who network." he explained, casually leaning on the window sill. "An endorsement from someone with such high profile is certainly advantageous to a novice scribe."
"Understandable," Nora replied settling next to him, and watching as Prof. Solomon, dean of Woxlichen stepped onto an elevated platform with a large metal cone.
He raised the cone to his face and amplified his voice through the mouthpiece.
"Novice scribes of Woxlichen! We have received confirmation! We are proud to announce the presence of Master Scribe Theo Xander to join our panel of regents for the unveiling ceremony!"
To this a great roar of cheers and clapping rose from the courtyard. Petrich and Nora simply stared in shock.
Nora was the first to back away from the open window.
"Oh. . . Oh my. . ." she breathed.
Petrich said nothing, but stood from his leaning position at the window, frozen.
"What is it?" Nora asked.
"One of the students down there," Petrich replied gravely "I could have sworn he looked up at me just now. Looked at me straight in the eye, for, like a full ten seconds. Maybe even longer."
Nora came back to the open window and saw that the crowd had shifted and partially dispersed. "Can you still see him down there?"
Petrich shook his head. "No, he's slipped into the crowd somewhere. Damnation!"
Nora opened her mouth to ask for description, but was cut short by a thumping sound at the door.
At first she assumed it was a heavy knock  by some beefy hand, but as she approached it was not someone at the door, but the hanging knapsack homing the threaded doll.
Something had somehow set off the little beast and it was reacting with somewhat of a tantrum. But then it settled again, still writhing but no longer thumping up against the wall.
Petrich and Nora remained still, bracing themselves for the next odd event, or maybe for the aftershocks of the ones that had already occurred.
"Well," Petrich sighed, "To be honest, it was just a matter of time before coming across the name of that wretch of a scribe. We've comfortably minded our own affairs for years now. I suppose I should have been more proactive about keeping an eye out for him." He glumly sat at his drafting table. "And as for that student. . .He looked familiar, but we are five stories up from the courtyard. Everyone tends to look familiar at that distance."
"But I'm wondering if he was merely staring up at the window that had been closed, but was now open and seeing someone there, yet not seeing someone there." Nora reasoned, her eyes still on the slowly writhing knapsack. "I must admit there have been rare times when people pass us by, then look back, but then keep moving along, a bit confused, maybe, but otherwise normal."
"Yes, I've seen that happened on occasion." Petrich confessed, "But this boy's expression did not look confused, even at that distance."
Petrich took up a sketching pencil and a scrap of drafting paper. He quickly sketched out the boy's face, tilted up at the angle at which Petrich had seen it for just those few seconds.
"So young," Nora commented, studying the boys high cheekbones, small delicate mouth and eyes Petrich had shaded to indicate a light color.
"And distinctive enough to find, if we look around enough." Petrich added. "But maybe you're right. Might have heard the window open and was trying to sort it out in his head."
"And what about our overactive knapsack baby?" Nora asked.
"I think it could very well have to do with the very name of. . .Hmm." Petrich went to the knapsack and said slowly and precisely. "Theo Xander."
The knapsack jumped to life again, angrily kicking and flailing against the wall.
Petrich stepped away, startled. "Oh, Bloody Hell!"
Nora laughed at his astonishment. "We'll have to have a code name from now on."
"I've got an obvious one. Lying Bastard." Petrich suggested.
Nora nodded. "Sounds fitting enough."