Some Things Explained

“Alright, take a seat,” said Timoteo to the group. They had made shelter in the lobby of an abandoned bed and breakfast and lit a fire that was now crackling full blaze. The room was small, warm and cozy, and the only thing keeping it from being completely inviting was the lingering fear in everyone’s minds of something unexpected creeping in the shadows of Lokton. Felix had sent his four soldiers to guard the main entrance and windows, and remained himself standing in the living room, rifle at the ready, as Timoteo sat and began his explanation.

“Now, before I start,” he said, “I just want to remind you all that there is only so much I can tell you, for reasons you will soon discover. Also, don’t assume I know the answers to any questions I happen to leave unanswered; some things I know, most things I don’t, and some things I’m not meant to say. Are we clear?” Everyone nodded. “OK. So, first things first: what I’m supposed to tell you, at this point in time.

“As I told you before, I willingly passed up the throne. I disappeared from LusciousLocks shortly after my decision. Why? I told you some of that too. I felt an influence in my family, which slowly crept into LusciousLockian politics—and it wasn’t an influence I was open to. It started with the Visitors. Tall men, wrapped in dark cloaks, with tan, almost reddish skin. When they approached Coralendian airspace they asked for sanctuary in LusciousLockian territory. We are a hospitable people, so of course we conceded.

“The Visitors brought gifts that pleased my parents. Gifts that suggested they were well-versed in the magical craft, which, as you know, is poorly understood here in Coralende. Pens that wrote your thoughts. Magical books that could be used to communicate thoughts to your past self at precise moments in time. Ropes that pinpointed exactly what you were looking for. And several spoons that intensified the magic of magical objects. We thought they might be quilaires—but quilaires were a Coralendian myth. It seemed illogical that they exist in a foreign race. If anything, their having magical spoons was just a coincidence. Except they were unusually protective of these spoons. They showed them to my family, probably to cause an impression, but they never let anyone so much as breathe near them.”

“Were these actually quilaires?” Lithuania asked.

Timoteo frowned. “Yes. They did in fact have quilaires. We were just too incredulous at the time. And with their displays of magic, the red men began winning my family over.”

“But what did they want? Why did they come?” asked Latvia.

“I can tell you what they told us, but what they really came for… I’m still trying to figure out. They told us they were looking for a hospitable planet. They said that the planet they came from turned hostile… that it was overrun by injustice and constant war. They told us they were exiles—fled their planet because they rebelled against the authority. But they seemed kind enough. And they offered to teach us in the magical arts if we offered them permanent sanctuary.”

“How many were they?” asked Lithuania.

“Five. Only five. As you can imagine, my father was quite eager to acquire knowledge of magic. Ever since the Foggistanis came, LusciousLocks has been rather under their thumb. While we aren’t hostile towards them, we are a bit wary of their presence… and resentful of their abuses of power.” All three sisters simultaneously resisted the urge to object. “In any case, magic could be quite an asset, if we learned to harness it.  

“They told us our country was teeming with unharnessed magical potential. That it lived in the birds, in the trees, in the soil and the rocks. An overly abundant natural resource. They told us they were attracted to Coralende, and LusciousLocks in particular, because the virgin magic called to them.”

“Called to them?” said Lithuania.

“Yes. You see, they handled magic with remarkable ease. It seems they were extra sensitive to its presence, and held technology that could lead them to it from afar. Like magical radar.”  

“They told you this?” asked Latvia.

“Yes. And I believe it is true. I only possess magical powers within LusciousLocks.” Timoteo opened his palm, and a swirl of blue sparks came into being, hovering above his hand. “Take me out, and my knowledge of the craft is useless. I can’t even get a magical spark going.”

“What’s your magical ability?” Latvia asked.

Timoteo smiled. A strange expression for such a sallow face. “I focus magical energy. I concentrate it. Also, I can heal.”

Latvia furrowed her eyebrows. Healing wasn’t exactly what Latvia would’ve guessed Timoteo to do. 

“So you’re kind of like a quilaire?” asked Isa.

“Like your quilaire, maybe. Not all quilaires work the same way. And most quilaires have a host of powers, not just one.”

“So wait. What were these red men up to?” asked Winfry. “Why tell you about LusciousLocks magic and teach you how to use it?”

Timoteo’s eyes darkened as he looked to the ground. “They knew it was the ticket to win us over. And it was. They became our allies. They asked for permission to bring some more of their people. We gladly gave it. We were oblivious. Red men began migrating to LusciousLocks, more and more every year. But they never stepped outside of LusciousLocks once they came. They kept to themselves, and built the strangest huts, partially underground. They were an odd culture.”

“How long ago was this?” Estonia asked. She wasn’t sure she was buying Timoteo’s story.

“Two decades ago.”

“What?” said Lithuania. “How is that possible? How did we not find out?”

“They’re magical,” said Timoteo. “Staying hidden is easy. Not to mention, they’re extremely secretive and practice staying under the radar even in the absence of magic.”

“That’s how you managed to stay hidden so long, isn’t it?” said Latvia.

Timoteo smiled. “Yes. I picked up a thing or two from them.” He paused, as if remembering something. “Anyway, you’ve probably already figured out that these guys were AssMachenstani. They just needed to get on our good side before revealing their true identities to us.”

“So what happened? What exactly did they do to make you leave? And how does it all relate to what’s going on right now?” asked Lithuania.

“You’re too curious. I don’t know how it all relates to what’s going on right now. I would like to figure that out myself. But how it all led to my going away… well… Things turned strange.”

“Strange?”

“Strange. The conduct of the people seemed to… warp. But only with each other. When foreign ambassadors came to Green City, it was like everything was normal again. The AssMachenstani huts would sink into the ground and look like mounds of mud. You could never know they were there. And the people… every one would return to normal.”

“But how were they not normal?” Isa asked.

Timoteo bit his lower lip. The memories seemed to bother him. “We became more aggressive… Less like ourselves. Suddenly we were cutting wood again for furniture, after hundreds of years of having agreed not to do so. Normally that would have caused an outrage. Now… no one seemed to care. And then the animal sacrifices began…”

“Did you just say animal sacrifices?” said Felix. Timoteo nodded. “What is this, Pregalactic History?”

“We have always been a very open culture. The red men introduced it… they said it was necessary for the appropriate channeling of magic. From the ground to the creature. Kill the creature, you harvest the magic. And so on… They told us that the only way to extract magic from the earth was through death. And that corrupted us…”

“But you fled. You weren’t corrupted, right?” said Isa.

Timoteo’s eyes flashed. “What matters is that I fled—in time. And I've remained hidden ever since.”

“Hidden where?” asked Winfry.

Timoteo was suddenly angry. “Enough questions. I’ve told you enough. Now you know this threat is AssMachenstan. You know why they are here.”

“Not entirely,” said Estonia.

“They are harvesting the magic from LusciousLocks. And I fear they have abducted all the people to do the same. Sacrifice them like they did the animals.”

“What?” cried Lithuania. “You can’t be serious!”

Timoteo looked grim. “It is what I fear. It is why I decided to come back when I heard of what little we knew was going on here. And when Latvia walked over the central square and felt the loss of life force, I felt my fears confirmed.”

“But how does it work?” asked Lithuania. Why is LusciousLocks particularly magical? And why must they extract the magic through death? How does that make sense?”

“You ask too much. I don’t know how it works. We have a lot to figure out. And we have to figure out where to start, before AssMachenstan reveals itself to the rest of Coralende and all hell breaks loose.”

Winfry felt the librem shake in his hands. It jerked forward, flopped onto the ground and flipped open. Latvia looked at it, curious. And then, the ink letters began to form. Winfry picked it up and held it to his face, so no one else could read. These messages were for him and Isa, no one else. But the handwriting on this message was different… it wasn’t his own… and it read, “Tell Latvia Starr that Peter Pidgeons… is dead.”