The cold melody of buttons being pressed and stories being shared echoed through the police station's halls. Ibsen stood in front of the interrogation room, the captain's words endlessly tormenting his mind.
"You just killed yourself."
Deep down a sense of justice tried to scratch his way up the boy's throat, wanting to make him carol a boastful laugh. Not accepting hush-money from rich bastards is honorable indeed, yet he was missing all sense of pride. Only nauseating emptiness remained in his heart.
– Hey, you're the lad we mistook for a lunatic! – it was the doorwoman from earlier.
– You mean the guy who came in to ask for help and got beaten up? Yeah, nice to meet you.
– Allow me to apologize in the name of our humble police station with this simple gift the captain ordered for you. – she held a cookie.
– What's this?
– It's an ischler, "The Emperor of Cookies"! A really tasty sweet consisting of two linzer cookies filled with rum-chocolate cream and covered with melted chocolate!
Ibsen accepted the gift, which was hardly the size of his palm.
– Just out of curiosity, how much does one of these cost?
– I don't know, maybe a quarter of a gold coin? Perhaps less.
– I see… – with a dishonest smile, he left.
Noon has passed when he saw sunlight once more. Quickly unfolding the map, he frantically searched for a building with a very specific name.
"What was the name of that organization Kafka talked about? Magic Intelligence or something. I need to tell him what happened, perhaps he has something to help me with. This is not good, seriously not good!"
Lost deep inside the map, he was shaken by the sound of a body hitting the ground. A humanoid figure lay behind him, concealed in a dirty robe. Ibsen stepped closer to the being.
– Uh, sir, are you alright?
– Food… please…
– Oy! Hang in there, buddy! – Ibsen crouched down besides the figure and lift his head off the ground.
– Please… don't reveal my face…
– Hey, it's alright! I don't care if you're not human, just take this. – he held out the ischler. – It's not much, but all I have. Come on, eat up.
The figure slowly sat up on his own, all while hiding his face from the boy. As he accepted the food, their hands touched for a second. Ibsen felt that the mysterious person's hand was cold, his fingers sharp as a fork.
– I'm sorry…
– Hey man, don't sweat it! As I said before, I don't care who you are. – his smile was genuine. – I just do what's right.
– Thank you…
His voice had a low echo follow it, as if they were talking in a cave. Feeling satisfied and a bit hungrier, Ibsen set off home. He gave the map another glance and saw a faster way home. A road forming from alleyways ran between the houses, not far from the main road.
"Ten Pence Road? What is a pence and why is there ten of them? Whatever. It'll help me stay off radar and get home safely. Wonderful! Only if I wasn't starving…"
Crossing the street and turning left into an alleyway, he entered a narrow street where the houses looked dull and old compared to what he saw next to the main road. Being two or three floors tall, clothes were hanging above his head on ropes tied from one house to another. In its own cramped way, the road was full of life. Children played football between the garbage bins, shouting and laughing. Even the houses had their own voice, as the residents' chitchat could be overheard from under the window.
"It's hard to think with an empty stomach. Maybe I should try fishing from the river next to the bar! I bet at least a few carps swim down there once in a while."
Lost deep inside his thoughts, he didn't see the small boy on one of the balconies preparing for when he gets close enough.
"Yeah, and I could use one of the chairs as like… as like a weapon! And then I could bash the fish's head and… but that would hurt they fishy…"
– Death to the mime! – Ibsen heard a battle-cry from above, followed by a group of small shadows covering the sun.
– Huh? – he let out his final words, before being buried by the bodies of angry children. – Oy! Oyoyoy! Get off of me! Hey!
– Death to the mime! Kill her!
– I'm no mime, get off of me! – he tried to push one of the kids off, who retaliated by biting his hand. – YAAH! Oh, I'm gonna' beat you so hard…
– He's not dying, what should we do? – one of the kids looked up in despair.
– Begin Plan B! – another answered.
– Hey, hey, hey! What is Plan B? What are you kids…
A long lost feeling struck his body once more. One so evil, one so hateful, his mind has exiled even the name of such act. He screamed helplessly, as tears began to flow down his face.
– No! Stop tickling me! Please! Yahaha, please! I beg you! Anything but this!
– Children, that's enough! Let go of him.
That voice. It was one Ibsen knew, yet couldn't remember from exactly where. As the children quietly got off of him, he smiled at the sight of his savior.
– Random old dwarf!
– What a small world it is, running into you again. – his smile was weak, yet full of joy. – Nice to see your cheeky face survived. Did you defend yourself?
– Yes, thanks to your words and – from the back of his trousers the tanto appeared – this! It was quite fun pissing him off. Best of all, guess what? I'll sue 'em! No idea how to do that, but I will!
The dwarf's eyes followed the blade, as Ibsen put it away. His smile grew larger.
– Glad to hear things are working out for you.
– Thank you! Anyways, do you know why these kids attacked me?
– We thought you were the mime! – one of the tiefling boys approached and pulled on his shirt. – She's been going around, stealing our pocket money!
– No! – a human girl stepped forward. – She looks friendly, but she's evil! We were playing with the other kids, when she came up to us and asked if we wanted to see her show! We said yes and she started to mime, but stole our money while we were distracted!
– Wait, so you mean she stole your money while giving you a show?
– Yes!
– And how do you know it was her?
– She bragged afterwards about how stupid we are, while showing us the stolen cash! We tried to get it back, but she raised an invisible wall we couldn't pass!
– Interesting. – Ibsen rubbed his chin. – And where is she now?
– I don't know! Father Judson said he knows how to bring her out, but we're not strong enough to take back what's ours!
– Father Judson? Wait, are you some religious guy, old man?
– Indeed I am. – the dwarf nodded. – Before settling as a shoemaker, I was a well-known cleric of unity.
– Those are the guys who walk up and down and preach about how we need to love each other?
– Power is in unity, my friend. It's the same power our friends here used to bring you down. – he smiled.
– Spitting wisdom and making the kids piss their pants from how cool you are… I like you, old man! – with a determined smile he turned towards the children. – Alright! I'm willing to help you guys under one condition! If I can take back your money, yall have to gift me a slice of bread! Whatever goes on it, I don't care. Make it a surprise!
Bearing the posture of a heroic knight, he made the kids cry out in anticipation and joy. The sight of hopeful children made him feel an unusual warmness. It's been a long time, since he had such a genuine smile.
– Well that was fast… – Ibsen looked back at Judson to see him holding a carrot attached to a string. – What's that?
– Bait.
– Is the mime a rabbit?
– No, but a woman!
– O-Okay… but why are you using a carrot?
– Trust me, my child! – he put the carrot on a plate and left it in the middle of the road. – Mime's fear water! They're all aquaphobic! And you know what's the opposite of water?
– Uh… something that resides in the earth?
– Exactly! – he snapped his fingers. – Now come, hide fast! The mime must've already sensed the strong aura of this carrot!
Feeling unsure as ever, he followed Judson behind a trashcan and waited. The kids climbed up to the balconies and stood ready for attack. Ibsen checked the tanto on his back, firmly grasping its grip. If things were to go south, he was ready to flash the knife. But surely, a simple mime wouldn't prove to be that dangerous, right?
– Here she comes! – Judson ducked down.
Ibsen waited for the sound of footsteps, but heard none. Silence filled the alleyway, only broken by beastlike noises and the sound of something being dragged on the cobblestone road.
– Hey, uh, are mime's always this… noisy?
– Mimes' true nature comes out when they think they're alone.
Slowly raising their head just above the bin, they could see the slow approaching danger. A slim girl, probably in her early twenties. Black pants and a cute beret helped her striped long-sleeve shirt stand out. White paint covered her visible skin, only broken by black lipstick, eye-shadows and two circles on her cheeks.
Ibsen thought she was cute, up until seeing her unnatural movements, drawing her numb limb along.
– Is she… alright?
– Worsened eyesight, savage noises and unnatural gestures… yes, the carrot is working!
– What am I doing with my life?
– Don't chicken out now, boy! It's almost your turn!
Sluggishly moving next to the vegetable, she picked up an erect posture and began leaning forward, moving her spine in snakelike way.
– Wretched thing… – Father Judson spat, then patted Ibsen on the back. – Go boy, it's your time to shine!
– What? Oh yeah, alright!
The mime almost bit down on the food, when Judson pulled that away. She tried to jump after the food, but was greeted by the legs of a half-dwarf man, wearing a weird looking shirt and looking really angrily down on her.
– Yo.
Frustrated but still wanting her meal, she tried to bypass him, but Ibsen blocked her path once more.
– Hey, you got a problem? – her voice was lively and furious.
– Yeah, a pretty big one actually. Heard you were stealing from kids.
– And?
– What do mean "and"? – uncrossing his arms, his anger was released. – Thinking you're hot shit who's allowed to take others' hard earned money, you're the lowest of low!
– Oh – accompanied by an uninterested tone, she put her hands into her pockets – and who you might be, man on the high horse?
– Henrik Ibsen! – his confidence rose, as the children's eyes glittered from admiration. – Fighter of justice! Hero of the innocent!
Just a guy, who does what's right!