Periwinkle stared at the cliff face that brought the path he had been traveling on into an abrupt stop. The path didn’t seem to continue along the wall either, and upon a quick inspection, he noticed that there were small gaps and holes in the cliff itself. They were obviously manmade and formed a barely climbable route that led to the top of the roughly ten meters high cliff. So far traveling had been the easiest part of his search, as he had taken one of the undead horses from Mournvalley and could just sit back as it took him from one library to another, from tribe to tribe and shaman to the next scholar who might have had some information about what Periwinkle was looking for. Over his journey, he was met with varying degrees of hospitality, from old scholars eager to share their knowledge with someone who was able to continue their work, to uptight and secretive scribes that only parted with their scriptures after it was too late for their own good. Needless to say, the necromancer’s trail was paved with more bodies and blood than your average scholar’s, but at least that came with some results. His target was elusive and seemed to move about without a predictable pattern, disappearing for years and then appearing in multiple places at the same time, yet its description never changed.

After months of just amassing all the information he could, Periwinkle had finally gotten a lead that could actually help. A hunter from a remote village had seen a strange hut in the hills near where he usually hunts and was absolutely certain that it hadn’t been there the day before. This was less than a week ago and had only gotten to Periwinkle through sheer luck of him hearing about it from the hunter’s wife on a marketplace in a somewhat nearby town.

While preparing for the climb, Periwinkle noticed an odd scent in the air. Someone nearby had made a campfire, which seemed odd since he was kilometers away from even the nearest road. On top of that, there was something strange about the smell, almost like the fire was being fed with something else besides wood. The heavy morning mist limited his vision as well and he couldn’t see too far into the distance to spot the rising smoke either.

The necromancer sighed and started to climb the wall, he was reasonably fit and the climb itself wouldn’t have been an issue, but his blue robes were far from being designed for the task. Yet there wasn’t much in the way of other options, he had failed to pack rope with him and couldn’t just tie one to a bone and use that to get up, nor could he just use the bones from his mount to make a makeshift ladders as necromancers were for some reason unable to fixate matter in a way where even they couldn’t move them. So trying to step on a piece of bone he was holding afloat would just end up with him pressing it down with his foot. Alizarin had had his theories about why it didn’t work, but that study never amounted to much.

Slowly but surely, Periwinkle made his way up, almost tripping on his robes a couple of times and having a minor heart attack over almost falling. He rolled over the edge at the top and just laid there for a while to catch his breath. While staring at the sky he suddenly heard someone walking towards him.

“This is the fastest you’ve found me yet, very impressive. Most of you take years.” Noir complimented the masked necromancer and clapped slowly.

Having finally found what he was looking for, Periwinkle laughed. “Most of us? Am I not the first one that actually found you?” He asked and got up.

“No no, most of you, other Periwinkles. You are the only person I’ve allowed to find me while actually searching for me, and you do so without a fail.” The mysterious birdfolk explained. “How about you join me by the fire? I have tea prepared.” He asked and patted the necromancer on the back, ushering him towards a small cottage a little way from the cliff.

In front of the cottage was the source of the odd burning smell, a small bonfire of burning books. Next to the pyre was a far larger pile of black books that was probably waiting to be thrown into the flames. They seemed to be in great condition, so burning them seemed like an odd choice.

Noir sat down near the fire and poured two cups of tea from a pot he had ready, clearly prepared for Periwinkle beforehand, like the crow knew he would be coming. “Do sit down, we have much to discuss. Unlike last time, neither of us needs to be anywhere else, saving damsels in distress or otherwise.”

Periwinkle sat down and took his tea, it was almost spot on how he liked it. “Oh yeah, mission accomplished, I suppose.” He laughed.

“Yes, Anastacia is alive and well, thanks to you. Though that means we have a lot more work to do.” Noir said and pointed at the large pile of books. “This Anastacia lives, so all that was meant to be without her is now nothing more than stories and fiction, and thus useless to us. Suppose it is my price for meddling too much.”

“Sure.” The necromancer shrugged and took a sip of his tea. He knew well enough to not ask for too detailed answers. “Wait, us?” He suddenly realized.

Noir seemed confused by the question. “Yes? Did we not talk about this?” He asked and scratched his head. “Pardon me, sometimes I get things mixed up. In that case, consider this a job offer; one that I know you’ll take, you always do.” The crow laughed heartily.

The offer caught Periwinkle off guard. “But I’m a necromancer and an inquisitor… I work for Coquelicot. I don’t think she would appreciate me leaving just like that – assuming I accepted. I have no idea what you even do, besides appearing here and there, and say vague stuff.” He said somberly and finished his drink.

“Such matters are easily solved. Besides, Queen Coquelicot has other things on her mind at the moment.” Noir scoffed at the necromancer’s worries and poured him some more tea. “The job itself is splendid! It is our job to write down everything that ever is, was, will be, could be and then some. You get to see the worlds no one else will, talk to people that no one knows about, see amazing events unfold more clearly than anyone else will. Quite honestly, I can not for the life of me come up with a negative aspect even if I tried.” He explained happily.

Periwinkle caught a bit of the birdfolk’s excitement and cheered up. “That does sound pretty good… But why? Why do any of this? I assume you’re some kind of divine being that can travel in time and what not, but that doesn’t explain why you’d need to do this and why ask for my help.” He wondered.

“Oh dearie me, I’m as normal as they come. You being a necromancer probably makes you more exceptional than me, not that it matters. You will learn the reason for our efforts later on, but I assure you, we are not supposed to change anything that happens. Occasionally there is a chance to make the world more eventful by unlocking a door here and there, leaving a note or saving an Anastacia by returning a ring to its rightful owner; and we’re free to indulge in that, but that does increase our workload.” He explained and nodded at the pile of books next to them.

The masked necromancer frowned and tried his best to find some sense in the crow’s story. “Okay, let’s say I believe all that… But why me?” He asked.

“I might have worded it slightly incorrectly earlier, there is a single thing that sets us apart from other birdfolk and necromancers: our deaths aren’t written anywhere, nor will they ever be.” Noir declared. “I have studied all there is to know about you, and in every single chain of events possible, this is the last mention of you anywhere.”

Periwinkle spat out his tea and coughed. “Wait wait wait wait! We’re- I’m immortal?”

“Oh, nothing of the sort. We just will not die.” Noir corrected him.

“But that’s the same thing.” Periwinkle said amidst his coughing fit.

Noir laughed heartily. “Agree to disagree then.”

They sat by the fire for a while, debating the difference between immortality and simply never dying. Noir also shared some more detail about the work he had done up to that point, which didn’t exactly lessen the necromancer’s confusion over the purpose of the entire effort. Technically everything had already been done by them but at the same time, it was still a work in progress. Noir kept insisting that it would all become crystal clear after they had worked together for a while, though Periwinkle still had a hard time believing that anything the crow did made any sense.

“Okay, so let’s say I agree to whatever it is that you’re doing here. Where do we start?” Periwinkle asked after realizing that trying to get Noir to explain anything in detail was a foolish attempt at best.

“Well that uniform of yours would have to go. You are no longer an inquisitor, nor do you really have need for the bone dust you carry on you. Luckily, you have already prepared a new one for yourself. It’s on the table inside.” The crow said and gestured towards his house.

“I what?” Periwinkle asked but immediately realized how pointless the question was and just headed to the hut without waiting for a response.

Inside the cabin was completely a normal room with absolutely nothing interesting in it, which came as a huge disappointment to the necromancer. He had expected it to be some sort of magical time and dimension traveling hut, that was filled to the brim with enchanted technology from some unknown civilization, but instead it was full of slightly dusty furniture and sheets of scrap paper spread on the floor. On the annoyingly regular table next to the window, was a set of neatly folded clothes and a leather mask. The clothes themselves were similar to Noir’s outfit: a neat white shirt and a black vest with black trousers. Nothing about them seemed out of the ordinary either, other than they were clearly well made and expensive. After shedding his old gear that had been tattered and worn by the months of travel, and putting on the new uniform, he noticed that it was almost certainly tailored specifically to him. Every piece of the uniform fit him better than anything he had ever worn and unlike the inquisitor robes, didn’t restrict his movement in the slightest. In comparison the new clothes felt almost weightless without the countless pouches of bone dust he carried along with him.

Overall, the experience was oddly freeing, thought the physical gear he had dropped weighed a ton, it was nothing compared to the mental burdens he shed along with the inquisitor’s robes. Until then, he had always felt Coquelicot’s cold stare at his back, despite being hundreds, if not thousands of kilometers away from Mournvalley, there was always a subtle fear that Coquelicot somehow knew exactly what he was doing. The blue robes had also begun to take on much of the same effect as the crimson robes of the red inquisition had before them, and he was rarely a welcomed quest, no matter where he went. The arrival of an inquisitor, no matter the color, was rarely a good thing after all. This alone was enough to tip the scales heavily in the favor of Noir’s offer, but on top of that, it did sound interesting. Much like his older brother, Periwinkle had a curious mind that definitely saw the appeal in knowing absolutely everything that ever happened. Though Alizarin would have without a doubt used the opportunity to steal Noir’s secrets and use them to benefit Mournvalley, but the younger brother lacked the ties the older one had. Periwinkle had no significant other, his old sect had been slaughtered during the rebellion, he had all but burned the bridges with his current team by lying to them to save Anastacia, and now even Alizarin was dead. There didn’t seem to be much of a reason for him to not accept the crow’s offer.

Last bit of gear on the table was the leather mask, very similar to his current mask, but brand new and made form far superior materials. while inspecting the seams, Periwinkle noticed something extremely odd. The stitching on the new mask was very familiar looking, so much so that he had to take off his old mask to compare the two.

“I made this… But when?” He muttered and slid his fingers over the two identical seams before slowly fitting the new mask on. Just like the rest of the uniform, it fit perfectly, which made sense if it was really made by him.

After folding his old gear on the table, periwinkle stepped back out and took a deep breath. Despite the smoke, it felt fresher than ever before. Whether is was the new clean lenses and mask that hadn’t been drenched in blood countless times, the world seemed more colorful than ever and the necromancer was stunned by the experience.

“Seems like a decision has been made.” Noir commented and snapped him back awake.

Periwinkle hurried over and grabbed Noir’s hand. “Where do we start? Do I get to choose?” He asked excitedly.

The crow laughed and pointed at the pile of books that was waiting to be checked and tossed into the pyre. “Calm yourself, we have all the time in the world. For now, we still have to deal with the aftermath of our meddling.”