The Haunt of Danzig Ruin

The Unveiling

After getting 'situated', Petrich stared out the train car window, elbow resting on the window's ledge, hand to his mouth. The revelation did not anger as much as it frightened him, this end product of all Nora's weeks worth of quiet contemplation at her spinning wheel.
The receiving of the official degree was not the only reason Nora wanted to stay for The Unveiling. Oh, no! Ellenora Baudelaire-Hodgins was plotting to take down Celestial Scribe Theo Xander once and for all!
BUT HOW?? Petrich's mind had cried out to her, even as he still clutched her body firmly to him, his breath slowly returning to its resting rate. You can not take a life here! But there are no guarantees you couldn't lose yours!
Nora removed herself off of him and excused herself to the train's lavatory. I must do what I can before leaving this place. She thought out to him, exiting the compartment.
Even her thoughts sounded of her mother, a woman who, during the war, did not back down even as her home city of Capria burned. Nora was channeling Cattleya now, and Petrich knew she meant business.
When she returned she sat opposite Petrich and throughout the rest of the trip back to the campus, discussed her plan of action. It was nothing short of brilliant.
"Tell me, were you actually going to try this on your own?" Petrich asked, "And I just so happened to find it all out at a moment of, to put it lightly, great vulnerability?"
"No," Nora answered, "My thoughts were organized enough to finally share with you. I was, honestly, going to discuss them with you when we returned to the campus over some tea, but I simply couldn't resist having you on the train, and, well, the truth spilled out, didn't it?" She smiled at him sweetly.
Petrich merely shook his head at her in wonder. "Heavens help me." he chuckled.
On the evening of The Unveiling, Petrich and Nora could not have been more prepared. The key for their quarters was returned, their trunk of possessions had been sent ahead to the train depot and arrangements had already been made for steamship passage to Ecarte Island once they reached the eastern seaboard.
Nora took one last look at her spinning wheel in its small dark corner and sighed. "I know there will be others wherever we go, but I'll always love that one."
Petrich consoled her with an understanding kiss on her forehead and followed her out the door for the last time.
If the arrival of Master Scribe Theo Xander onto the Woxlichen campus had been a grand production, it was nothing compared to this evening's spectacle. It was to be the first time the scribe had even been seen since the attack over a fortnight prior, and those who would have otherwise blown off coming to an unveiling ceremony crowded onto the Woxlichen campus to be present for this one.
"So be it," said Nora, as they arrived and took their place beside their own veiled tapestry. "The more here to see all this, the better."
Again Petrich saw and heard Cattleya Baudelaire-Hodgins beside him in Nora's stead. Oh well, he thought to himself, she's going to need her mother's bravery for tonight. And so will I.
The time came for the ceremony to begin, and the great throngs of people from all over the region craned their necks to see a sight they most assuredly would never forget.
Down the grand boulevard rode a great many soldiers in formation on horseback. They were not wearing the uniforms of the regional military brigade, but black cloaks with the well known emblem in gold thread depicting a crescent moon and three stars inside a diamond shape. This was the universal symbol for a master celestial scribe. But never had the emblem been worn by a cavalry brigade or any member of the military.
Just behind the horsemen was a grand horse drawn platform, draped in golden decor. Upon it stood more military personnel. Atop an even higher platform sat a throne like golden chair. Seated on the chair was a figure decked out in an opulent hooded robe. . .and a golden mask covering his face.
Are you seeing what I am seeing right now? Nora thought out to Petrich.
              Petrich, keeping his eyes straight ahead gave the slightest of nods.  Yes, I see. He thought back to her. 
             This moment had surely been years in the making.  If Petrich had not known better, he would have believed that the attack itself had been staged. As it were, Theo Xander took it and brought to the masses a truly mystical figure made complete with a golden mask, no less! A hero god, victim of a vicious act of terroristic violence but survived! A great testament to having powers beyond the comprehension of the common man, great powers that could surely lead them to a much better place on the political world stage. For months now, this is what the media had fed to them all and it was delicious. Bring on the next course!
An introduction was made through an even greater voice amplifier by Prof. Solomon. It was relatively short, for the crowd began to chant.
           "XANDER!! XANDER!! XANDER!!!"
           Petrich could tell the professor felt a bit unnerved and it was no real wonder. Unveiling ceremonies tended to be much more quiet affairs with only a quarter of this crowd's size in attendance.
           Prof. Solomon graciously regrouped and wrapped up his speech with an introduction of Theo Xander, who stood from his chair and spread his arms wide, making a 360 degree turn so that all may see him. The crowd chanted louder.
           The hooded, masked celestial scribe proudly made his way from his platform and to the podium flanked by his personal soldiers. His voice, deep and rich, boomed through the amplifier.
            His speech reiterated all the media had already printed and the population had happily digested.
            There are terrorists in our midst, Theo Xander reminded them. Terrorists from various houses particularly in the east who do not appreciate his efforts to strengthen the standing of the west. Who better than to lead them to their right to glory than one from the righteous order of celestial scribes? One who peered into the very face of death and survived! One who has been foretold in the very stars to come and bring to his people the respect and privileges they so deserve through force if need be!
           And his rhetoric continued, whipping up the crowd into a frenzy. The ceremony had been hijacked and had quickly turned into a fueled political rally.
           We expected this. Nora thought out to Petrich. Maybe not to this extent, but still, the plan stands. Are you ready, my love?
           Petrich looked at her beside him, her eyes were bright with excitement. Yes. I am ready and know I love you.
            I know. She thought out, and in one swipe unveiled their tapestry.
            The other presenting scribes looked on at them curiously, but then returned to listening to Theo Xander, who was now shouting into the amplifier even louder than before.
              Petrich unhurriedly took the tapestry off its easel and carefully rolled it up. He then attached it to the ever present and continuously writhing knapsack. He wondered what would happen if he opened the knapsack and unleashed the threaded doll upon Theo Xander as Anton Kienczny had done. But this was not part of the plan. The knapsack remained tightly cinched.
              Nora slipped about the over crowded stage to a stand where the degrees were being kept and apparently forgotten. She thumbed through them and found the degree that was to be awarded to Petrich.  She lifted it for him to see from several feet away, with a great smile on her mouth.
            Look, my darling! We passed!
            Ah! Jolly good! He thought out with a great laugh.
           The securing of the tapestry and the degree was merely a test. They wanted to remind themselves just how well they could go unnoticed, for the chaos surrounding them was about to resort to complete and total mayhem.
           Petrich took his place to Theo Xander's left and Nora to the right, not too close, but still in the periphery of Xander's vision.
           Theo Xander abruptly stopped speaking and whipped his masked head to his left and stared right at Petrich.  The unchanging smug expression of the mask was unable to hide the shock in the dark eyes within.
            Petrich found himself barely able to breathe and stood completely still. Does he perceive me or not??  He wondered with tightly clenched teeth.
             The crowd had quieted, curious of  Theo Xander's sudden strange behavior.
             But then the eyes blinked in bewilderment as Xander turned back to the amplifier and continued his speech  that had long since turned rancid. 
              Petrich drew a sigh of relief and looked to Nora, who merely gave him a wink. And that was their signal to begin.
             Nora was the first to actually touch Xander by reaching around him and nimbly untying his cloak from about his neck. Once loose at the throat, the cloak fell to the stage floor. At this point Petrich laid hands to Xander and quickly stripped the rest of his clothing leaving the man naked from the waist up. Only the mask remained.
             The crowd fell silent, watching their beloved savior being assaulted by, well, someone they thought they could see, but then could not. It was all extremely confusing. 
             Many wondered why the nearest of Xander's soldiers were not helping their screaming master as his clothes were being stripped off his body. A few of the soldiers tried, but they tended to fall and be shoved away by some unseen force. Some members of the crowd tried to rush the stage but they were thrown back as well.  What in the name of all things sacred was happening here??
               The last article stripped away from Theo Xander was his golden mask, leaving him exposed to all eyes.  Covering his entire face, chest, belly and back was the word 'STAR DEFIER' finely tattooed in different fonts and even in different languages.
              Xander desperately tried to cover himself with his ripped off clothing , but every piece would immediately be snatched out of his grasp and flung away. It was as if a malicious ghost child was playing games.
               A soldier then rushed in, swiping at anything and everything, seen or unseen. In doing this, Nora was knocked to the ground and lay there still. Petrich rushed to her and carried her safely to the back of the stage.
            "Nora!" he cried, checking her breathing and pulse.  He found they were both there, and before long, her eyes fluttered open. She looked up at his frightened face.
           "We did it." she replied weak, but satisfied, "Did they see, you think? Did they see him for what he truly is?"
            Theo Xander was finally covered and taken off stage almost immediately, fleeing with a special group of his soldiers back to the guest mansion. 
            To defy the very stars was seen as an extremely serious crime among celestial scribes. To slanderously label one a Star Defier was to risk being taken to court and pay out the nose for punitive damages. 
For those guilty of such a crime, not only were they looking at prison time, but also would fall into disgrace in the eyes all other celestial scribes the world over, if it could be proven, of course, which could be next to impossible. Being tattooed from head to toe, however, made the burden of proof immeasurably lighter.
But the media could work in mysterious ways to somehow explain this phenomenon away. This was the very reason Nora felt the importance of a large crowd seeing for themselves with their own eyes. They would have to be the speakers of truth from here.
Only when they were safely in their private train compartment did Petrich inspect Nora's wounds from her hard fall. There was a cut to the left of her chin that had finally stopped bleeding after the application of Petrich's clean linen handkerchief. There was also a raised ugly bruise the size of a small egg high on her forehead. A cloth filled with cracked ice was put to it immediately.
Petrich ordered her to move the joints of her extremities. All seemed to move properly, except for her left wrist. She winced with pain as Petrich gently forced it into a hyperextension. It was diagnosed by 'Doctor' Petrich as a pesky sprain. Nothing more could be done for it than a simple brace to help immobilize the joint and more ice.
Last but not least, Petrich poured them both a glass of whiskey. Nora sipped hers until it was completely gone. Petrich then helped her into a comfortable sleeping gown and put her to bed.
By this time, the train had left the depot heading east, away from Woxlichen. Petrich leaned against the large picture window of the train car and raised his second glass of whiskey in silent salute to his and Nora's place of residence of the past three and a half years.
He suddenly felt an overwhelming relief to be leaving the west and heading to a familiar location where they could work on the recreation of Danzig tapestry in peace. The last leg of being in The Dream Plain. . .hopefully.