It was a small, derelict box with a thousand faces.
On most days, its face was an old man, warning the watchers of the hot summer days and the chances of flames engulfing the world. Sometimes, it was a magician on stage, with dozens of spectators cheering and applauding a dull performance that was insulting to even the most novice of witches and wizards. Boring. Other times, it would be the face of a chef, teaching you how to cook your favourite food, again. My personal favourite.
But today, there was a special face; a face Zoe was intrigued by.
The face had been a man coated all in black, with a brooding shadow that never escaped his back. Yet his eyes were full of enthusiasm; the kind of enthusiasm found only in an actor. “The hour draws near.”
Zoe watched closer.
The stage around the man-in-black faded, and the spectators gasped in horror. The face then turned to a line of light descending from above.
“O’ Great One,” the man continued, his face stricken with grief, “my brothers have abandoned me. They avert their eyes and now the lands of the Never are in peril. Tell me, O’ Merciful One, what is it that I can do but grant them only the mercy of sleep? I have waited and waited for an answer. But nay, I shan’t wait any longer. For in the Neverlands, words spell doom.”
The man bowed and then vanished into the darkness, followed by a loud round of applause and louder cheering.
Zoe was in disbelief. What’s good about this?
The young girl stood up, grabbed another riceball off the table and took a bite. She felt a sweet layer of mayonnaise melt in her mouth, followed by a familiar oily flavour. At least, this is good, the taste made her smile. Nothing was more uplifting to her than the taste of food in her mouth.
Yet right before she could grab another bite, the door burst open as a familiar-looking boy rushed in, ploughing through her room like a storm. His feet were bare, his golden hair not much different from a cat’s hairball and he was missing a shirt. It was Lloyd.
“Whatcha lookin’ for?” Zoe said, her mouth stuffed with riceball.
Lloyd turned, breathless. “I can’t find my quill!”
“It’s not in that jungle of yours?” She took a bite of riceball.
“No.” Lloyd walked in a spiral, “I’ve looked everywhere. The library, the bathrooms, the kitchen, my room, Nathan’s, Yuno’s, Erina’s—”
“Hang on, hang on,” Zoe’s eyes widened. “You went into Erina’s room?”
“That’s your concern?!”
“My concern is if she finds out.” Barging in unannounced into someone’s room alone was enough to warrant anger. Zoe herself was already bothered by the presence of Lloyd in her room, but she was calm and reasonable enough to understand his frenzy somewhat. But Erina wasn’t exactly calm or reasonable. “I am not so sure she’ll be happy to learn you’ve been through her stuff.”
Lloyd’s mind was elsewhere, however. His eyes widened as though a light bulb had lit above his head. “Wait, you’re a Reader,” he rushed at her, grabbing both her hands and holding them together, “you can find it!”
“No,” she shook her head. “I’m not using it for—”
But Lloyd tightened his grip around her hand, “Please, please, please, please…” His face was riddled with tears of plea and his eyes looked no different than a puppy’s. He seemed ready to get down on all fours and beg.
Zoe sighed, grabbed him and then plunged the half-eaten riceball into his mouth. Food was always the best medicine. “You owe me.”
“Anything!”
She thought for a bit. “A hamburger.”
“Noted.”
“With extra bacon.”
“Sure.”
“And I side of wedges.”
“On the list.”
“Alrighty then,” Zoe smiled. “I guess we’re settled.”
Lloyd grinned, wiping away his tears. He then knelt down, hugging a cushion to his chest.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Zoe walked out to the hallway.
The dorm was cold.
The air was thick with the faint scent of wood smoke and dust. Wooden shelves coated the walls across the entire floor, filled with books ranging from ancient scrolls to modern novels. Each shelf held numerous volumes, with each book being lined up by the same author's name. Some were bound in leather, while others were covered in paper. Most were filled with pages of text, while some were filled with illustrations. The books were beautiful, to say the least.
But Zoe was not here for beauty.
She was here for work.
With that, the girl stretched her arms and began.
She closed her eyes to a blank page, slowly writing itself as she processed everything she had just seen. She took a deep breath before opening her eyes again, capturing the scene within the frame of her hands.
Reaching into her pockets, she grabbed a pen. It was made of solid aluminium and coated with a blue shade — her favourite colour.
And so, the girl hung the tip of the pen on thin air. First Form Technique.
Beneath her was the rest of the dorm: the large windows across gracing the place with sunlight, the empty living room beneath circling around the fireplace, the dinner table that was always short of a seat and the open kitchen overrun by mops and brooms cleaning whatever mess there was. Everything was almost clear on eye level but that’s not gonna do, Zoe thought.
Her eyes lit up. A faint gale formed around her. Yet her grip wouldn’t let go of the pen. And with one fell swoop, she wrote one word: INVENIO!
A heavy gust followed her swing, strong enough to push open the doors of the rooms behind her. From that point on, the girl continued to write, letters into words, words into sentences and before long, the blank page in her head had become ten. Now, for the hard part.
“Second Form Technique!” This one she had say out loud… for dramatic effect. There was no fun in these thoughts if they were all in her head. The second blast was much stronger. It almost drove her off her feet.
She closed her eyes again and saw it all. She saw the walls covered in words. She saw the rooms across flowing with whispers, the pristine and tidy nature of Nathan’s room, the mountains of books that Yuno failed to sort, even Shogo’s cheesecake share that Erina had denied ever touching was hidden right behind a false layer in her cupboard. But where is the quill?
Zoe looked some more. Her vision came across Bonbon, who seemed aware of her spectral presence. Heya, little one! He was hooting for her. You want to show me something? The owl flew and she followed. Where are you taking me?
They were in the laundry room. Zoe was bewildered. She was supposed to be looking for the quill, yet here she was, inspecting a pile of clothes left in the laundry after being washed. She was about to give up when a glint caught her eye. Aha! The quill. She had found it right in— Oh…
After retrieving the thing, Zoe marched back into her room and throw the quill back at Lloyd, who jumped in surprise. Yet she asked for no thanks or gratitude. She simply grabbed another riceball, slumped back in front of her television and continued watching the dumb stageplay; not a word on her lips.
“You actually?” Lloyd was at a loss for words, “Where, where did you find it?”
But Zoe would not respond.
“Uh,” Lloyd rubbed the back of his neck, “thanks…!”
“Don’t thank me. Thank Bonbon.” Zoe said, stuffing a mouthful of riceball.
“So, um, where did you uh, find it?”
“Dunno.”
Zoe continued to watch her television, ignoring Lloyd completely. After a few moments, he grew tired, stood up and walked toward the door.
Zoe felt stumped, “Where you going?”
“Getting ready for school, duh!”
“Pfft! What!” Zoe stepped back and suddenly burst out in laughter, tears dropping from her eyes.
“Hey, what’s so funny?”
“It’s Saturday.”
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