Lucky Rabbit

Once inside the chancellor’s office, Augustus shifted two pillows from a small couch, piling them up in a chair instead. He placed Pandy on the short stack, then circled around behind his desk and sat. For several moments that fell just shy of awkward, he stared at her over his steepled fingers, then closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with an aggrieved sigh.

“My dear Ms. Boxx,” he said. “How is it that I find you in the middle of absolutely everything odd or unsettling that happens at this school?” Opening his eyes again, he stared at her as if he could – or perhaps simply wanted to – see how, exactly, her internal systems functioned.

“And why is it,” he went on, more softly, “that in spite of the fact that you clearly know more than you’re saying, and you’re something completely outside of my rather extensive experience, I still find myself wanting to trust you?”

Pandy blinked. The first question was easy to answer – her luck. When the helium tanks at Party Suburb all sprang leaks at once, Pandy happened to be the last one who’d touched them. When her new boss’s wife and girlfriend both showed up to surprise him for lunch, Pandy happened to be the person who rang them in. If a dive-bombing pigeon assaulted someone, it would be Pandy. If a shelf at the library suddenly ejected every book from otherwise placid shelves, Pandy would be the one walking past. That was just how it was.

The second question, however, baffled her. A quick check of her stats told her that her Charm stat was still one, and she definitely hadn’t used Radiant Presence. Maybe Charm was more effective than she thought, or the chancellor was just particularly susceptible to it?

Augustus leaned back in his chair, piercing gray eyes still locked on Pandy’s, and drummed his fingers thoughtfully on his bare desk. “All right,” he said abruptly. “I’ve always believed in trusting my instincts, and for the most part, I’ve been correct to do so.” A shadow passed across his face when he said, ‘for the most part’, but he continued anyway.

“You claim to have come here from another world, and for whatever reason, I believe you. You certainly don’t act as if you grew up in this one.” Mirth sparkled through those really rather pretty eyes, and Pandy would have blushed if she could. “You also claim to know what happens in three years…or at least what would have happened, if you hadn’t saved young Nathaniel. You were a bit light on details about what those things would have been, but I hoped you would come to trust me, and share more information in due time.”

He sighed again, leaning forward, and the shadows that had briefly vanished from his face returned with a vengeance. Pandy didn’t think he was that much older than her – thirty or a bit over – but sometimes he looked like he was carrying the weight of the world, possibly in his magic pocket?

“Given recent events, however, it seems that I shall have to be the one to do the trusting. So, what do you need to know, given that your only experience of this world comes from a possible future we’re still almost three years from repeating? Well, that and whatever a group of children may have told you, and, much as I respect our students, I am also aware that children tend to be…a bit light on details themselves.” Given that Pandy was still a rabbit, this question was clearly hypothetical, and the chancellor sat back again, his voice settling into the rhythm of a storyteller, or perhaps a particularly interesting teacher.

“I’m going to assume that you know the history of our country, at least in broad strokes,” he said. “That we were once a much larger country, but due to some…poor choices on the part of our king at the time, there was a revolution, which led to both a great loss of life, and the division of the country into two parts. Those two parts remain distant, at best, even today, thanks to some disparities in their beliefs.

“One of those disparities lies in our choice of deity. While we allow everyone to choose the god they follow, most people worship Ismara. Our first queen and king, Nora and Otto, followed Ismara’s faith, and built several temples and shrines to her. Ismara herself blessed Nora, and the goddess has been known to speak directly with or send messengers to our royal family on a regular basis, even though few bear the Light aspect any longer.”

He smiled, almost fondly, then grew serious again. “Until a bit over two years ago. It was a terrible time. A sickness was raging through the country, and while few died of it, it left them weak, muddled, unable to work or think clearly for some time after they recovered. Some never fully came back to themselves. Worst of all, while Earth and Water seemed somewhat effective against this disease, Light did nothing to stop it, unless used by an elemental of tier three or above.”

Pandy’s eyes widened. This was news to her. She remembered reading about diseases sweeping through West Altheric in the Gacha Love lore, but had assumed this was written into the game as a way to explain certain events, like the way Kaden’s great-grandfather, Elliott, ended up becoming king after his two older siblings died in a plague. One thing she’d never thought to question was how such dangerous illnesses were so common in a world – or at least a country – with magical healing.

“At the height of the disease,” Augustus went on, “King Fergus and his family all fell ill. His wife and daughter recovered quickly and fully, but the prince and King Fergus himself became extremely sick. The prince eventually recovered, though it took another year before he was himself again. King Fergus, however, did not.”

He looked down at his hands, which were fisted together on the desk. Lines of real grief were marked on his face, and Pandy wondered if he had known the king personally. Given his apparent friendliness with the queen, it seemed likely. If Pandy had been nearer, she might well have offered to let him pet her, since that always seemed to make the children feel better, but she was too far away, which was probably for the best, all things considered.

The chancellor’s shoulders slumped, then straightened as he looked up again. “For a while, it seemed as if Kaden would either join his father, or be…unable to rule. Queen-Regent Louisa was thrust into leadership, and the princess’ education was stepped up, because she was now the heir to the throne, rather than a younger sibling. This went on for nearly fifteen months, until Kaden was declared fully recovered.”

That explained so much about both Eleanor and Kaden. Why hadn’t Kaden ever spoken of this to Clara? Was it because she would have known, as everyone in the country probably did? Or was it simply that this was something that happened in this world, but not in the fictional one of Gacha Love? Either way, it made Pandy’s heart hurt for both children.

“It was also at this time that Thaniel and Lian’s mother, Grace, died,” Augustus said, unaware of Pandy’s internal turmoil. “But because of King Fergus’ death and our worry for Kaden, barely anyone even noticed. Her family was allowed to languish, her husband falling deeper and deeper into despair. No doubt it seemed to Lord Conroy and Lian that they had been abandoned, though thankfully Thaniel is young enough that while he saw the result, he doesn’t share the same anger at those of us who failed them.”

He gave a twisted sort of smile. “And yes, I include myself among those people. Grace was my second cousin, but I saw her often at family gatherings. She was older than me, and far more capable of both conversation and charm, but underneath it all, she was a quiet girl, who often found her way to the gardens or library, where I liked to hide. I attended her wedding, and while many of our family felt she made a poor choice of husband, I understood the draw of a peaceful life in the country, with a man who adored her.”

Pandy sniffed, and her eyes burned. Really, how could he bare his heart to someone like this? Wasn’t he embarrassed? Wasn’t he afraid she would someday use his words and emotions against him?

Apparently unable to understand the meaning behind Pandy’s twitching nose, he continued. “When Kaden finally recovered, we all began to look around and take stock of what else had happened during the fifteen months we had effectively lost. I received the news of Grace’s death, of course, and I think I sent flowers, or some such thing, but I was unable to attend her funeral and burial. I knew Killian was in school, and did make time to visit him when the school year began, but he was…civil, at best.”

Pandy could imagine. Lian loved Thaniel, and still barely spoke to the boy, other than during lessons or when quizzing him about things he’d learned. If a stranger suddenly appeared, claiming to be a good friend of his dead mother, he probably shut down. She had no doubt that ‘civil’ was putting it nicely, and ‘icy courtesy’ was probably closer.

“One of the first things to be brought to our attention was that no one had heard anything from Ismara since King Fergus died,” Augustus said. “A gap of so long wasn’t unheard of, but once we began comparing notes, we found that several priests had experienced dreams that they dismissed at the time, but which were eerily similar when gathered together.”

He leaned forward a little further, staring directly into Pandy’s eyes. “Five children appeared in every dream. Their faces were different in each version, but the number remained the same, and more often than not, they were accompanied by elemental animals. Some great threat – shown variously as a dark cloud covering the land, an open pit swallowing us, or a flood sweeping us away – was coming, and these children would be instrumental in saving us.

“But,” he paused, lips twitching, “then came the reason the dreams were dismissed. As the children faced the oncoming catastrophe, something ridiculous always happened. In one dream, the dark cloud became a cushion, and the children bounced on it, laughing. In another, the children went swimming in the torrent, each one buoyed by some device that wrapped around their waist, bearing the coloring and head of a toy animal. Tragedy was always averted, but in some nonsensical way.”

Augustus stopped, brows lifting above the rim of his glasses, as if waiting for Pandy to respond. She wasn’t sure what he expected, so she twitched her nose and whiskers at him, which made him release a huff of laughter.

Shaking his head, he sat back in his chair and said, “Many people still dismiss these dreams as coincidence, but the queen does not. King Fergus spoke to or heard from Ismara fairly regularly, and Queen Louisa believes that the goddess would not remain silent in the face of his death. Prince Kaden has never heard from Ismara, for instance, though Fergus began to get messages from her when he was only twelve.”

Growing serious again, he tapped a finger on the desk, staring at Pandy thoughtfully. Then, as if making a decision, he opened the top drawer of his desk and brought out a manila folder. Opening it, he removed several sheets of paper and began to lay them out, facing Pandy. Each one held the image of a child, drawn with varying degrees of skill. Some were barely more than stick figures, marked with triangular skirts for girls, and a few dabs of paint to indicate hair color. Others were close-ups of faces she knew as well as her own – or perhaps better, given how many hours she’d spent playing Gacha Love.

That one was definitely Clara, only her mouth was a bit too thin, turning down at the corners, and her eyes not blue enough. Kaden was there, defiant glare firmly set on his handsome face. But so was Eleanor, her gleaming fall of pale blonde hair framing a serious little face. Thaniel and Lian were far less recognizable, and anyone who didn’t know them well might have missed them. Pandy knew those dimples and that flat, disaffected stare, however, as well as the fall of Edgar’s hair and Geraldine’s curls.

Inextricably mixed among them all, however, was Pandy. Black hair with just enough wave to be unmanageable, usually pulled up into a haphazard ponytail. Big green eyes that led to her being called ‘Bugface’ for a few years in elementary school. Too-pointy chin, skinny frame that was the result of eating too little and working too much, and most of all the nervous, obsequious smile she tended to adopt when she was in a situation where she felt uncomfortable. Which was pretty much every situation except for when she was playing Gacha Love or at home, entirely alone.

Pandy suddenly found that she’d retreated from the pictures, and was now pressed up against the back of the chair. She’d been fine with the certain knowledge that Clara and the boys were meant to save the world, or at least West Altheric. She was even all right with the idea that she’d thrown a wrench in the works. That was what she did, after all.

She was not okay with being confronted with proof that her arrival, and her involvement in all of this, had been predicted years before it actually occurred. She didn’t want to be involved. She wanted to be able to sit on the couch and eat popcorn while other people did all of the hard, scary things. Then, after it was all over, she could find a nice – well, probably not peaceful, because that wasn’t how things went for her – but happy life, possibly even with some very understanding gentleman who was willing to put up with her peculiarities on a daily basis.

Augustus had been watching her reaction, and now he edged a few of the clearer images of Pandy out of the pile. He touched one that showed Pandy grimacing awkwardly. “Is this you?” he asked gently. When she didn’t answer, he gave a single nod and gathered up all of the pages, placing the picture of her on top. Only after he closed the folder did he look up again, giving Pandy a moment to gather herself.

“And that, Ms. Pandora S. Boxx, is why I have chosen to follow my instincts, and trust you. I do hope that you will do me the same honor.” He stood, lips quirking upward once again, “Preferably soon.”