Tales From The Myst Update: Touching Grass

The night was growing frigid and Caleb Vatore was growing tired, impatient and hungry. The cold and damp of the snowy night seemed to be seeping into every bone and fiber of his body. He wiped his hands across his eyes and squinted into the frost ridden forest, sure that his last several miles had gained him absolutely no ground. The flickering lanterns that represented his destination seemed just as far away as they had four hours ago and it would be only a few hours before sunrise would catch him out. The vegetation was dense, thick and suffocating, and no matter how Caleb chose to travel, he was certain the inn he was trying to reach had deliberately moved beyond his grasp at least three times. It was as if it was taunting him.

Caleb sank to the ground and rummaged in the duffle bag he had packed for the journey. With a curse, he realized he had consumed his last bag of plasma hours ago. He had been on this journey for three days, traveling by night and sheltering from the sun by day. It shouldn't have been this hard to navigate this forest on the outskirts of Windenburg, and yet, he was no closer to his goal than he was when he started. Obviously, this was no ordinary forest. But then, his destination was no ordinary inn.

Caleb stood up on wobbly legs, his nocturnal thirst taking on an edge he didn't want to acknowledge. Taking a deep breath, he attempted to quell the hunting instinct as he stepped forward, only to plunge, face down in the snow, tripped by his own weakness and a trailing vine. He groaned as he rolled over on his back, his frustration beginning to sink all hope.

“Welcome to The Blue Moon, Mr. Vatore.”

Caleb spit the snow out of his mouth and scrambled to an upright position as he fixed his gaze on the smiling woman standing before him. She was young and lovely, with a strange mix of innocent youth and provocative charm, and an appearance that seemed to subtly shift and change even as she spoke. Looking around, he saw his destination nearby, windows aglow with the promise of warmth and rest on a cold evening. With a gesture, she turned to lead the way as Caleb shook his head in astonishment.

“But...no. I mean, how? It wasn't here...”

The young lady turned back, a faint smile tracing her lips. “Are you coming, Mr. Vatore? Oberon is expecting you.”

Slinging his duffle across his shoulder, with heavy feet he followed his captivating guide. With any luck at all, Caleb Vatore hoped he would finally find the answers he sought at The Blue Moon Tavern.
*****
After a couple of Plasma Janes, Caleb felt more like himself. The young hostess, whom he discovered was named Anaya, had directed him to a table and provided the necessary nourishment. With his thirst sated and his head clearing, he was able to give some attention to his surroundings.

The Blue Moon Tavern was old. So old, that the story of its origins had long been lost to the mists of time. Caleb breathed in the warm smell of timeworn antiquity and noticed that a feeling of ancient enlightenment seemed to emanate from the patinaed woodwork. Stained glass windows and accents provided splashes of color against the dark wood, and artifacts from many human civilizations, as well as not-so-human ones, spoke to The Blue Moon's unique place at the crossroads of the natural and supernatural. Folklore said you could only find it if you needed to find it, and Caleb had certainly needed to find it. The Blue Moon was the stuff of legends, as was its proprietor, Oberon Lazuli. And, Oberon Lazuli was the one person Caleb was hoping to soon meet.

The patrons of The Blue Moon were a varied bunch. At a glance, you might not realize that merfolk, spellcasters, werefolk, fae, and a variety of “Others” were mingling with the random humans who managed to somehow wander through its doors. A Jukebox kept a steady stream of music going, and at the far end of the room, a large bar served up food and beverages. Caleb's eyes scanned the room, hoping to pick out his host. Not knowing what Oberon Lazuli looked like, he gave up the effort with a weary sigh and dropped his head in his hands.

The sound of tinkling metal made him look up. Anaya stood before him, a set of keys dangling from her fingers, a coffee cup in her other hand.

“He'll see you tomorrow,” she said, seeming to read his mind. “Downstairs. All the way down the hall. Your room is the last on the left.”

Caleb nodded as she dropped the keys in his hand. Then, following her directions, he made his way downstairs to a small, yet comfortable room and some much needed rest.

*****
Caleb woke and stretched, the action eliciting a deep groan. His muscles were still aching from his three day journey. He had slept most of the day, and it was now late afternoon. Dragging himself out of the bed, he found the common bathroom at the end of the hallway. After a shower and some clean clothes, he was beginning to feel a bit less battered when he wandered back upstairs to the bar room. Only a few patrons were there during the earlier hours, but he had a feeling things would be picking up as the sun went down.

Caleb perched at a bar stool and smiled brightly at Anaya on the other side of the bar.

“You seem more rested,” she commented, as she slid a drink to a large bearded fellow at the other end of the bar. “Are you hungry? Why don't you take a seat at the fireplace, and we'll get you something.”

Caleb nodded gratefully as he moved to one of the large armchairs that sat in front of the crackling fire. He wasn't a flirtatious type, but he was finding this young lady to be quite fascinating. Stretching his legs out in front of the fire, he closed his eyes and contemplated if being a bit more forward would be to his advantage. When he felt a light tap on his shoulder, he decided he was ready to take the risk.

“Thanks, beautiful. I hope you'll be able to join me.”

“I'm sorry, Mr. Vatore, but I make it a rule to never eat with my customers. But, thank you for the compliment.”

The decidedly male voice, tinged with amusement, made Caleb sit bolt upright in embarassment. He whipped around to see a tall man with startling blue eyes standing before him holding a covered plate. His platinum hair was pushed back behind his ears, their tapered shape indicating something other than human lineage, and a sardonic smile played across his lips.

“Oh. I... you're...” Caleb stammered.

“Oberon Lazuli, at your service,” his host said. “And I have here, the absolute best plasma fruit salad you will ever taste. I stake my repuation on it. Please enjoy it. When I return, we'll talk.”

The proprietor of The Blue Moon placed the plate on a side table, along with utensils and seasoning and, with a reassuring smile, left Caleb to his meal. Activity in the tavern was beginning to pick up as night fell, and Caleb watched the patrons come and go as he ate. Oberon was not wrong. It really was the best plasma fruit salad he had ever had, and he slowly relished it like a delicacy. Just as he was finishing the very last of it, Oberon returned and motioned for his guest to follow him downstairs.

“I believe,” he said, “We would prefer to have this conversation in a more private venue.”

At the bottom of the stairs was the hallway leading to the guest rooms, but to the left was a large and heavy wooden door. Oberon unlocked it and motioned for Caleb to precede him into the room. It was a smaller version of the main bar upstairs, complete with a small but well stocked bar, jukebox and game tables.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” Oberon urged. “This is the private bar. We will not be interrupted.”

Instead of seeking out a table, Caleb absently plopped himself down on a ancient wooden bench near the door. With a shrug, his host took a place beside him.

“So, Mr. Vatore,” Oberon began, his voice soft and rich. “Why don't you tell me what brings you to The Blue Moon.”

Caleb smiled. “Somehow, I think you already know the answer to that.”

“Perhaps I do. But, it's always best to hear things straight from the source, don't you think?”

Caleb began at the beginning. He told Oberon of his life before vampirism, his turning, living his undead life in the shadows, and how he eventually found himself banished from human society to Forgotten Hollow, along with his sister and a myriad of other cursed beings. He told about his dedication to proving that those who were afflicted with vampirism could provide for their needs in less violent ways, and how his work in that area had made him the enemy of Vladislaus Straud. He told him of his efforts to rally the other cursed folk into some sort of coalition that would fight against their supposed fate and bring hope for a better existence. And, he told him of his dream to have Forgotten Hollow annexed into The Myst, his frustration at not being given a hearing, and how, with the help of Mortimer Goth's extensive library, he had found his way to The Blue Moon. He talked until the clock chimed midnight, his host patiently listening to it all. Caleb needed help. If humanity could not accept them, certainly the supernatural should.

“But why, Mr. Vatore?” Oberon asked. “Why should the residents of The Myst accept Forgotten Hollow?”

“Because, we've all suffered the persecution. We need unity. The Myst is about unity for supernatural beings, isn't it?”

“Of course. But, I'm afraid, on this, you have skipped a little detail.”

“Which is?”

Oberon leaned in to make his point. “Come now, Mr. Vatore. You know full well what I'm talking about. No one, natural or supernatural, is going to voluntarily risk becoming... how shall I say it... prey.”

Caleb winced at his words. Of course, he knew that. That's why he was trying so hard to create this movement away from feeding on others. A movement that Vladislaus Straud was determined to quash.

Caleb sighed and slumped back against the hard seat. “I know. I know. I keep trying to convert others to my way of thinking. We're just so isolated from anything else, and I foolishly keep hoping there's a way.”

“Oh, I didn't say there's no way.” Oberon stood up and turned toward the door. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have to close up.”

Startled, Caleb followed him back up the stairs.

“Wait! You can't just end things like that!”

Oberon entered the main bar, Caleb in tow. Clearing his throat, he made an announcement to the guests.

“Last call, everyone. We're closing early tonight.”

As the patrons expressed their disappointment, Caleb continued to follow Oberon to the bar, where his host was mixing the final drinks of the day.

“What way?” he asked.

“I'm sorry, what?”

“What way? You said there is a way.”

“Did I? Well, Mr. Vatore. Take a look around you. We have all types in here: werefolk, vampires, faerie-folk, and even an odd human or two. And, so far, no one has had anyone else for dinner, tonight. Occasionally I have to break up a spat over a game of foosball, but my patrons rarely feast on each other, even though some of them could. The reason? They have found commonality in spite of their differences, and value their associations too much to endanger them. If you want the same for Forgotten Hollow as it relates to The Myst, you must do the work, Mr. Vatore. Annexation will not happen. I know this for a fact. Maintain your separateness, find common ground and create associations.”

“Separate, but allied? An alliance? With The Myst?”

“Yes. I dare say both might find such an arrangement beneficial. After all, there are many threats... ah reasons... to become allies.”

“You seem to imply some kind of common enemy. Allied against what? Who?”

“Well,” Oberon said, his blue eyes flashing a bit. “That remains to be seen, doesn't it?”

Oberon ushered his guests to the door, and with cordial parting words, locked it firmly behind them. He turned off the lights, then proceeded to bank the fire in the fireplace, Caleb still following close behind.

“Oberon, please,” Caleb started, but was cut off by his host.

“I think we've had a productive visit, here,” Oberon mused. “I wish you a safe trip home, tomorrow.”

“But, I'm not...”

“Oh, but you are. You found what you were looking for. There is no need to remain. When you have support among your people and have worked out a plan, if you need entry to The Myst, seek me out again. I might be able to assist you there.”

Oberon moved across the room, but paused as he reached the stairs. “Sleep well. And, do remember, an alliance is a powerful tool. Just be certain you clearly understand those with whom you are becoming aligned. Goodnight and goodbye, Mr. Vatore. I'll send your bill to your residence.”

The Blue Moon's proprietor ascended the stairs to the upper floor and his private residence, turning out the downstairs lights when he reached the top. Standing alone in the darkened inn, Caleb was certain Oberon Lazuli was hinting at things to come.

As he made his way to his downstairs bedroom, he thought about his conversation with the mysterious man. Things had not quite gone the way Caleb had hoped, but he strongly suspected they had gone the way they needed. Caleb had hoped for assistance in gaining a hearing in The Myst, but was leaving with the beginnings of a proposed alliance. And, as he sank into his bed and his thoughts returned to the lovely Anaya, he considered that alliances might be a good idea in many ways. Many very interesting ways, indeed.