“Rum, you mind stepping aside?” Amez stood in his workshop bedroom, staring at Rum, who was for some reason standing in the way of the closet door. To Amez’ right, the massive Mr. King-like bed blocked the way round Rum. To his left, the large side of the closet did the same. There was no simple way for Amez to step passed Rum, and a sneaking suspicion was rising inside Amez that this was, indeed, the intention.

“Let me help you” Rum put his hands up, offering something of a smile. “Just tell me what you want, and I’ll get it for you!”

Amez took on a confused face. “What?” He stared. “Brother, you won’t know what I need, just let me in there.“ As Amez advanced forth, Rum countered his little brother, using his raised hands to grab onto each of his little brothers’ shoulders, locking the younger man in place. “What are you doing!?” The 2 were now face-to-face. Amez’ expression was pure befuddlement. Rum’s expression? Constipation. Or thereabouts.

Slowly, as they both stared into each others’ eyes, Amez’ mouth transitioned into a knowing smile. “Are you hiding something from me?”

Rum didn’t immediately reply, but the sweat appearing on his forehead definitely spoke what silence could not.

“Rum?” Amez’ voice was one of emerging concern.

“The thing you wanted, what was it?” The reply of the mage was spoken with a blank, though clearly stressed, face.

Amez’ narrowed his eyes a little. “You’re not hiding something bad from me, are you?” The little brother added an awkward unsure smile. “You haven’t put any skeletons in my closet, have you?”

Rum had the strangest of reactions to that question. Because the older brother suddenly released Amez’ shoulders, and looked to be thinking for a moment, eyes travelling into the blue of the ceiling.

“Oh by the gods!” Amez near panicked. “You have, haven’t you!? You’ve started collecting. Oh, I should’ve known, with necromancers it’s never enough with just 1 skeleton, is there. I hear rumors about mages–”

“Nothing of what you’re speaking of!” Rum denied. “Not a single skeleton. Even White Rose is over there!” The wizard pointed across the big bed, over towards his child’s mind adult skeleton, standing in zes favourite corner, next to the backdoor, clothed in zes black disguise, and reading a book. “Come on, brother! I’m not a necromancer, I just dabble a bit, and it’s all harmless.” He crossed his arms.

Amez looked at him, concerned. “My closet is not full of bodies?”

A complicated grimace appeared on Rum’s face, as if answering the question pained him. “There are no dead bodies in this closet. None that were placed there by me, anyhow. Come on, Amez, I wouldn’t do that.”

Standing there in front of him, less than an arm’s length apart, Amez’ face still was unconvinced. But after several uncomfortable seconds, and more glissening sweat appearing on Rum’s forehead, Amez finally relented. “Okay. Just, give me the spare ink rack. The one with mostly blue in it.”

Rum nodded, turned and moved to the closet door. There he grabbed the closet handle, started to turn it – then stopped. With the handle only half rotated, the bigger brother slowly turned his head back towards his little brother, grimacing. “Could you, maybe, just step outside of the room. While I do this?”

Amez rolled his eyes, and put on a look of incredulity. “Really?”

Seconds passed. Rum said nothing. He was mute. Expressionless. Amez? He just continued looking incredulous as much as his face could muster. In the end though, the little brother became the first to break their staring contest. With a sigh, an annoyed Amez turned about slowly, walked out of the bedroom, and closed the door to the workshop behind him.

Rum turned the handle the rest of the way, opening the closet. Inside, he immediately let out a “ssshhh”, putting a finger to his lips.

“You’re back!” Axel The Chest exclaimed, before seeing Rum’s finger. The chest’s excitement rapidly vanished. “Oh” he continued, in a much lowered voice, “he doesn’t want us to talk.” Several other items of furniture, who were about to speak, preemptively silenced themselves. A delayed series of “ssshhh” propagating throughout the dark interior.

Rum opened the other door to the closet, found the ink rack on a high shelf, then closed each of the doors while placing another finger to his lips. He walked over to the workshop door, opened it, and stepped inside.

“Here you go, brother” he put the rack down on Amez’ worktable. “Just tell me if you need anything more, and I’ll fetch it – right away!”

“Yeah” Amez responded, a little annoyed and suspicious, though apparently not in the mood for an argument. A human warrior of sorts lay on the board in front of him, expecting a tattoo.

Rum wasted no time. He walked back into the bedroom, closing the workshop door behind him. In speed-walking motion, he reached the closet. There he opened it, bent down, and stepped inside. On the other side awaited that strange place of his, The Dark Closet; a room of unknown dimensions, and horizon-consuming shadows.

Nobody said anything as he moved over and into the midst of the furniture. Veish sat on her bed off to the side, only barely looking up from her conjured book to notice him. “Everyone!” Rum began announcing. “We have a slight bit of a problem.” Around the mage, mouths slightly opened, while eyes turned attentive. Veish lowered her magical book. “In all honesty, the problem is not new. I’m only surprised that the issue did not arise sooner. But now, it seems, it can no longer be avoided.”

Rum paused, mostly to catch his thoughts, but it had the effect of dramatizing his appearance. And it prompted one dining chair to ask: “What’s the problem?”

Rum turned to look at the sentient furniture. “I can no longer well hide this place from my little brother” he answered plainly.

“Why don’t you just tell him?” Replied a commode. “Won’t he accept us?”

Rum took an inward breath as he looked over the gathering. “I... don’t know. I’d like to think that he will, but the addition of this place” he gestured about, “and of all of you, including Veish, all of you technically being fugitives – though I don’t think Amez knows that – still, I think it all might become a bit too much for my little brother to handle, if he were to find out. Right now, he just thinks he’s giving me a place to sleep, and White Rose a place to stand and calculate objects ze sees. But, as you can all attest to, things have gotten a bit more than that. And, even if my little brother were to accept my relationship with you all on a more general basis, as he most likely will do–” Rum’s looked at the floor, as he thought for a second, “yeah, I think he would. Still”, his turned up again, “he might not want all of you to stay in the bedroom, of his shop, where he conducts business, with adventurers, who are basically serial killers, and who’d have no problem capturing or killing you all, including Veish” Rum gestured to the woman, “if they found out you were here.”

The room went dead silent. With the silence lasting for a long, eery moment. “Does that mean” a familiar shelf eventually asked, “that we have to go?” Several sad and worried furniture eyes looked up at Rum.

Rum shook his head. “My problem isn’t that you’re here. I think that, at least Veish is safe from being recognized. She can walk out in public without issue, nobody knows who she is, unless somebody tells who she is–”

“–who is she?” the dining chair interrupted.

“Not important” Rum tried to smile. And resumed his previous train of thought. “The rest of you, unfortunately, will have to stay inside here, at least for the time being. But no, the problem is not that you’re staying here. Not in my eyes, at least. But I think Amez might have issue with it, and... honestly I’m not ready to explain it all for my little brother. Not quite yet. But I will! Soon...-ish...” Rum’s eyes searched the darkness behind the gathering of furniture for an envisioned future moment, when he would be actually ready to tell his little brother. The darkness didn’t immediately reveal such a time.

“So what’s the problem?” The dining chair asked again.

Rum’s thoughts and attention returned back to his audience. “Hiding! My little brother has to but open the closet door to see you all inside here. That’s the issue now. But I can’t stop him from opening his own closet forever. Sooner or later, he will come to open the closet when I’m not prepared to stop him.” He paused to look around. “Ideas?”

The furniture, and Veish off to the side on her bed, all looked at him with varying sorts of expressions. Mostly expectant. Some in thought. Some worried.

“What about a hidden door?” Axel The Chest offered.

“Hm?” Rum turned to look at the chest.

“Hidden door.” The chest reiterated. “Like the ones in Gnomiture?”

Rum raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, of course, hidden” Axel rolled its own eyes, “you probably never saw them, did you? But that’s how the golems and the gnomes move about. They have hidden doors in the walls and floors all over Gnomiture. That’s why customers rarely stumble upon the workshops, they don’t know where to find them, nor how to open the entrances.”

“You know how we can make a hidden door?” Rum raised an eyebrow.

“Eeeh” the chest opened its mouth, “no clue.”

Silence reigned in the room again. Rum just slowly turned about his own axis, looking into the various faces of his furniture friends, finding in them little but shyness and thinking expressions.

“I may have an idea.” It was a woman’s voice – Veish’s voice. Rum hastily cast his gaze towards her bed. The witch had a somewhat tired expression on her face, like she was low on energy. But that didn’t stop her. Rum met her eyes as she explained. “Jorteg did the same once. And I’ve seen other dungeon lords do it. We’re in a closet, right? Just put a fake wall at the back of the closet, but add some hinges on this side of it. Then also connect the door to a lock on our side, and make a pressable device on either side, which opens the lock.” The witch took in a breath, her tiredom expressing itself in a heave. “When the lock is unlocked, we should be able to easily just swivel the door towards the inside here.” She stopped briefly to stare directly into Rum’s eyes. “Just make sure to hide the one device you put on your bedroom’s end of the closet, so your brother doesn’t find it. Or touch it by mistake.”

Rum detached his gaze from her and thought about it.

Rum had finished thinking about it. Without more of a word than “I will be back” he speed-walked into the closet proper, bent forward to get out, and then speed-walked around the ginormous bed to reach a certain someone.

“White Rose.” The skeleton looked up from a book ze was holding. Rum glanced at the cover: Introduction to Number Theory. The title made him stop and read it again, but his mind was otherwise to busy to get stuck on his skeleton’s preferred reading material. “White Rose” he reiterated, face-to-skull with his undead, “I have a little task for you.” He pointed back and over to the closet. “Could you please just stand over there” he pointed at the closet, “and stand in the way of the doors. Just to make certain Amez does not open the closet?” He looked into his skeleton’s eye-sockets, conceiled by the veil. Ze wasn’t meeting his eyes however, but following his pointing finger instead. Trying to grasp what I want perhaps? Still not meeting his eyes, White Rose bent down, put the book to the side on the floor, and found zes portable blackboard and chalk. Hastily, and squatting, ze drew on it. “Y-E-S” Rum read, hovering over ze. “Alright then. I’ll just be gone on a little errand to find somebody who does construction.” White Rose, rising back up, looked at him. Ze put zes head to the side. “Don’t worry about it.” Rum waved his hands dismissively. “It’s just something to keep Amez out of the closet.”

Rum The Mage, Rum The Wizard, Rum The Harbinger of Fugitives – left the building. For the next 2 hours, he walked around Southwall’s traders, asking for references, figuring out prices, and discussing solutions. Eventually, it became increasingly clear to him though, that he was not going to get the help he needed there. The woodworkers were either too expensive, or too busy. So Rum decided to make a trip to another group of people. A group he knew were all into wood.

An hour and a half later, after first passing through Ermos’ southern city wall gates, Rum found himself standing inside The Great Spruce, and, more specifically, the well-populated single-room elven apartment of Royath The War-Veteran, Eidinun The Beard-Lover, and Ovadova Zizik The ECON Sub-Committee Leader. To the first, he merely nodded. For the second, he politely entertained her interest in his facial manhood for about a minute, before sidestepping the woman to reach Ovadova, just as she was about to ask for a touch. He did say “sure” in passing though. It wasn’t as if he was so much against her touching his beard. It was just distracting, and he wanted to get to the reason he was there. So, standing in front of Ovadova, the last of the 3 elves there he’d come to know, Eidinun leaned into him from the side, stroking his majestic growth, while the mage made his conversation.

“Secret doors? Huh” the elf glanced over at the door into the apartment. “Haven’t you noticed about our doors? They’re Great Spruce. It’s ALL–” the man spread his arms about everywhere, “–part of Great Spruce.”

“Always has been” Royath whispered from behind.

Rum ignored the 2 other elves, and focused on Zizik. “But” he drew a little smile, “I can’t take Great Spruce with me. I live in Southwall.”

“Hmmm” the sub-committee leader produced, grabbing his chin and looking all thinking-like. His eyes set on a random location of the floor. “You should visit The Florists” he concluded, and looked back up. “They may be able to help you.”

Rum took the male elf’s advice. And, to the sad disappointed expression of Eidinun, moved to leave the apartment. Eidinun watched his beard with a longing as Rum’s hairs departed her fingers.

The apartment of The Florists was only one and a half spirals of the stairs upwards, and thus Rum was soon at their door. Arriving outside, he properly took in the setup of one of Great Spruce’s fine door for the first time. He noticed there were no hinges, no nails, almost no symmetry. Instead, as gave it a proper lookover, he discovered the door had grown into the opening of The Florists’ apartment. Only vaguely rectangular, the door was a bulky piece of wood, which had fitted itself onto said opening. Likely over a long period of time, he mentally added.

He knocked on the door a few times. Then he waited. Then he knocked a few times more. With the door subsequently opening outwards, he noticed 2 sets of networks of roots from the tree, working to lift the door to the side. Outside where he stood, Rum noticed, there were roots that contracted to pull the door in his direction. Meanwhile, as he got a view of the door from the inside, he saw at the other end a set of roots twist themselves to move the door in the same direction.

“Fascinating” he let out, before spotting the male sub-committee member of The Florists, standing in the doorway with an excited expression of surprise on his face.

“THE MAGE! RUM!” The elf yelled.

“THE MAGE?” It was the voice of the female sub-committee member, which soon came into view, as if wanting to see for herself.

“The mage you said?” The last of The Florists, Sovaduna Bikbik, came to stand next to her fellows, each and every one of them looking at Rum The Mage.

“Hey” Rum responded, unsure what to do about their excitement for a second. Then his eyes spotted something in Sovaduna Bikbik’s arms.

“Is that a squirrel?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes!” The leader of The Florist immediately confirmed.

“You should come inside!” The male sub-committee member said, and stepped forward to gently pull Rum along by the arm. As the door closed behind, Rum stopped and turned to witness how it functioning, before letting the male elf pull him in further.

The single-room apartment of The Florists was quite a lot smaller than what he’d just been inside. Only 2 couches was present here. Very little, he mentally remarked, though there’s just 6 elves living here. With that population in mind, 2 couches was quite the right size for the elves, as Rum recalled. He still had a fine memory of holding and being held by 2 elves, a man at his back, and a woman at his front, as he’d slumbered among the elves, all huddled thus together in trios, one for each couch.

“You’ve got a pet?” Rum glanced at the squirrel.

“Ah, no” Bikbik quickly responded.

Rum noticed that behind the elves, at the end of the room, another squirrel peeked out from a hole in the wall. And then, as he looked, yet another squirrel appeared at the hole, them both staring at him. They looked a bit larger than the one being supported on Sovaduna’s arms, which looked small.

“You live with squirrels?” Rum asked.

“No” Bikbik smiled, “they live with us.” And she stroked the back of the squirrel in her arms. The squirrel proceeded to climb up her arm, onto her shoulder, and then jump straight off, landing expertly onto the ground before speeding over and into the hole. The sub-committee leader turned to look at the now 3 squirrels peeking out of their hole, watching them all. “We’re taking care of them.”

“Don’t you specialize in plants?” Rum commented.

“Well. The Faunists usually deal with the animals. But they all recently became sick with severe flu. So they asked us to take care of the squirrels, who’ve all been through trauma.”

“Trauma?” Rum looked at the elf.

“Yes” she saddened a little. “The whole squirrel family managed to get themselves trapped inside a broken barrel, in a yard for a group of war hounds.”

“War hounds?” Rum gave her an open expression.

“Yes” she nodded. “But they were lucky. A wild gnome woman happened to come by and notice. She freed the squirrels by putting them in a bag. The gnome said she thinks they’ve been stuck there for days, and were severely starving. Of course, she brought the traumatized animals to The Faunists, since they’ve taken care of traumatized animals before. And, well. Now we have them.” The elf woman ended her story with a little smile, as well as a smiling glance over at the squirrels.

“Hmm” Rum produced, staring a little at the trio, all of which were staring back at him. “Well.” He took his eyes off of the cute creatures, and tried to change topic. “I wondered” he looked into Sovaduna’s face, “if you had some expertise in building with wood?”

Rum explained his needs to the elves. Which included not just a door, but “a door which will look like a plain wall, like it belongs at the back of the closet, and which is soundproof, and movable from both the inside, and outside. But, and this is key: the outside method of entry must be hidden.” He continued on describing his closet for a bit, as well as telling about Veish, the person to be hidden inside. Though he did not describe the vast space he’d created, nor did he tell of the myrriad of sentient furniture present.

“A piece of a mana-induced tree, is what you need” Sovaduna Bikbik nodded when he finished.

“Lucky for you” the other woman of the sub-committee interjected, “that you have one.”

And thus, once more Rum, followed by 3 Florists, went on a trip inside The City Forest to visit a very special and particular tree. This time though, the purpose of the visit was not to spread shit.

“The Vum Tree” the female sub-committee member voiced as they approached it, having traversed the forest. “I believe that’s what you named it?”

“Yes” Rum responded, his eyes on the tree. It had grown large. Or larger, his thoughts remarked, last time I saw you, you were just at the height of a house. Now – A BIG HOUSE. If he just had known how big the tree had become as of late, he would’ve recognized it much further away, as it currently stood out among the canopy. But that’s from a distance. Standing next to it though? It feels like looking straight up a 3 storey house, he thought. Its base was massive, the width of multiple fat people, and its roots, long and greedy, reached far along the ground about it, making for something like an imposing look. Roots probably go deep down as well, Rum watched the thick roots near his feet vanish into the ground. I’ve created something of a monster, haven’t I? He stood there, a little bit in wonder. For all your size, you still manage beauty too. Just seeing now how your leaves are as green as last time. Only, the space your greenness is covering has at least doubled.

Sovaduna came up to him and handed him a knife. It was a knife like the one he’d used last time. “We’ll speak to The Vum Tree” she said, “keep it calm and painless. You take only what you need, and let the rest of it be.”

“How do I know how much I need?” Rum grabbed the offered knife.

Sovaduna pointed up at a branch. “Climb up on that branch, and move along it, towards its end. I’ll tell you when to stop, and you can cut from there.”

Rum did as The Florists suggested. And thus later, when he left The Vum Tree, it was with a branch taller than he was, and the surprising company of Sovaduna Bikbik.

“So, what exactly are we to do?” Rum asked, as the new duo followed a trail heading out of The City Forest.

“I’m going to convince the tree to help you.”

Rum’s eyebrows rose up and his eyes widened a little. “You can do that much?”

“I can try.” She admitted. “But I think it will want plenty of bribes, if I am to convince it. The tree is still young, and the relationship of us elves to it only barely established. On top of that, this branch is but a franctured part of its aborrescent consciousness, which is quite different from ours. It will want to grow, but to make it grow into what you want?” She paused for a bit. “It can be challenging. You’ll have to give it plenty of resources. It will need contact with fertilized soil, and plenty of mana.”

“Oh” Rum let out. “I suppose mana wouldn’t be an issue. But soil... I would have to make holes in the floor beneath the closet. Amez is not going to like that.” The wizard pondered for a bit. “Well, it’s just a closet, and it’s just a floor. It should be easy enough to fix later, if necessary.” He let his own statement sink in for a few seconds. “I don’t know if the soil will be good enough though.”

“We will find out.” Sovaduna Bibik assured him.

Arriving back at Amez’ shop near the backdoor, Rum went in first, just to see if the coast was clear. Not that Sovaduna would pose too much surprise, he told himself, but I want to avoid explanations if necessary. Taking in the bedroom, Rum found no Amez. Only White Rose, diligently positioned in front of the closet, and reading zes Introduction to Number Theory.

“Hi” Rum said to the skeleton, who was totally in zes zone of absorbing the foundations of mathematics. When the skeleton looked up and around zeself with a surprised sort-of movement – making up for the fact that ze could not form a surprised face – Rum was already waving in Sovaduna. Quickly catching sight of them, White Rose watched closely as zes wizard daddy guided the elf, which ze already knew, around the ginormous bed. Then ze noticed the huge piece of branch zes wizard daddy was carrying in his hand, and pointed at it, skull slightly tilted in confusion.

“Not even I know what I’m doing with this” the mage shrugged, “but I think we’re soon to find out.”

Sovaduna stepped forward to stand beside White Rose. The elf was not looking at the bony creature though, which she had no idea was a skeleton, but rather, she looked behind White Rose. “So this is the closet.” She nodded to herself thinkingly. “May I open it?” She looked over at Rum. The mage nodded back.

“White Rose” he said, “you can stop guarding the closet. But, could you please guard the workshop door instead?” Rum pointed at it. “I just need it properly blocked for a while, so that Amez does not get a glimpse of what we’re doing here.”

White Rose obliged without as much as a skull tilt.

“Ehm” Rum turned to Sovaduna. “I have... how do I put this.” Rum looked at the handle of the closet, and then at the elf. “More, inside... than what I’ve so far given impression of.”

Sovaduna raised an innocent eyebrow.

Rum grimaced and sighed a little, his hand moving to touch the handle. Should I tell her? The elf and human met eyes for an uncomfortable long moment. “Okay. I think I’m just going to show you. Just...” he grimaced some more, “... will you not spread knowledge of what you’re about to see? Knowledge of this place could attract a lot of unwanted attention, which I’d rather be without.” Not the least of which is persecution by The Iron City’s Mecha-Force.

Sovaduna gave the handle a glance, and then briefly gave Rum a lookover. “That is fine. I will not tell anyone about what I’ll see. But I assume there’s nothing very evil or dangerous inside there.”

Rum, satisfied, shook his head “nothing very evil or dangerous”, and he turned the handle. At first the mage, bending forward to step inside and through the closet, just ended up blocking most of Sovaduna’s view, and as she followed him inside she was merely wrapped in curiosity. However, as Rum appeared out of the closet on the other side, the gathering of 32 items of sentient furniture, and 1 sentient blanket, most of them giving him their full and immediate attention, was all revealed.

Sovaduna looked about her, at all the different faces. “Furniture – with faces?” For a long time she stared at them, going from one pair of a furniture’s eyes to another. Rum observed her reaction. “I’ve never encountered so many such creatures before.”

“Do you recognize them?” Rum asked, careful about what information to reveal.

“Not really. I mean, I’ve heard of furniture with faces, and voices, but–” she looked at him, “–what are they?”

Rum returned her curious face with a neutral expression. “A secret.” He said, cryptically. “But a secret for an important reason. There are people who want to harm these creatures. That’s why secrecy is important.”

Sovaduna nodded. “I understand.” She moved her gaze up and away from the furniture. She saw the horizon of empty darkness in front of her, and the further darkness above her, and yet more to the sides. She also noticed Veish the witch, sitting on her bed, but ignored the other woman for the moment. “Where are we? Did we step through a magic portal of some kind?”

“Nothing of the like.” Rum responded, feeling calmer now after seeing how she’d reacted to Gnomiture’s fugitives. “This is what we call The Dark Closet. It’s a spatial extension of the closet.”

“But this is so much bigger than the building even?” Sovaduna remarked in confusion.

“That’s because it’s a spatial extension.” Rum smiled at her. She responded by looking at him with an even more confused expression. “It’s not the occupied space that has been extended.” He explained. “It’s space itself.”

Sovaduna’s eyes went big and wide. “YOU can do THAT?” She broke eye-contact and looked around herself, taking in the place once more with a greater renewed admiration.

“I did, so yes.”

“How big is this place?”

Rum shrugged. “That’s an unknown factor, and my current theory points toward it being... as big as it needs to be. I don’t know how that happened, because I was only trying to maybe increase the size of the closet by a tenfold. Instead, something in my magic went wrong, and now there is no known end to The Dark Closet. Only a known beginning.” He met her eyes with an unknowing expression of his own.

For a moment, the duo just stood there, admiring and awe-ing at the scene, though Sovaduna did most of that.

“She’s going to make the secret door?” It was the dining chair from earlier that day.

Rum found it in the gathering of the furniture, meeting its eyes. “Yes.” He respondend. “But what is your name, by the way, chair?”

“Eleganto” the chair replied.

“Eleganto” the mage nodded. “Right, yes, this is Sovaduna Bikbik, she is from The City Forest, and she’s going to help us turn this–” Rum lifted up the long branch he was carrying, “–into a movable wall.”

Rum turned to Sovaduna Bikbik. “Should we begin?” The elf nodded.

Over the next 2 hours, Rum and Sovaduna figured out that the best way to proceed was for Rum to use his Muscles Grow to simply punch a hole through the closet floor, and then further through the house floor. The branch was then lowered into a 3rd hole which they dug in the soil. Because Rum needed fertilizer, he decided to take a trip to the outhouse as well. There he filled his bucket with the waste of himself, and back in the building, proceeded to pour and scrape it onto the branch and into its hole.

“What about sunlight?” Rum suddenly realized.

“Mana-infused plants can substitute sunlight for mana” Sovaduna informed him, “but you’ll have to keep feeding it mana over time, or else it’ll die like a flower without the sun.”

“And what about water?” Rum spoke again, a second sudden realization hitting him.

“If there’s water in the soil, it’ll be able to use its magic to attract it.”

Rum gave a nod of understanding.

As the work progressed, the mage discovered an empty box within the closet, and it turned out to be a solution for another problem: how to cover up the fact that there was a hole in the closet’s floor with a branch sticking out of it. With the use of his initial package of him-based nourishment, and an additional bribe from Rum provided by touching and pressing his mana into the piece of The Vum Tree, Sovaduna managed to woodspeak the branch into starting to bend itself. If one looked into the closet from the outside, the corner would be the one on the far-left, so that’s where the branch was bending. With the patient whispers of the elf, the branch slowly began laying down over and into the dark open space. Now, on top of the hole in the closet, the box could be placed, hiding the fact that there was something sticking out from below. Of course the box itself had to have its bottom and backside opened by force also, but that’s another problem we can fix later if necessary, Rum told himself. The box was also nothing special to look at, so Rum trusted it wasn’t important. Just a regular plain cheap box.

With the box in place, Rum’s part of the job was actually done for now. It was up to the elf at this point. The question only remained if she could actually have the piece of magical tree act like a wall that belonged, while simultaneously functioning as a hidden door. Really, Rum had doubted the whole project he’d decided to be a part of from its start at The Great Spruce. Making the branch do all those things seemed like such a fine-detailed thing to accomplish. First of all, how would the tree know how to look like a wall? Even if it has the ability to transform – something I would be willing to believe – it still has no eyes with which to identify the look or shape of a wall. I just can’t comprehend how it would figure that out?

Rum turned to stroll into The Dark Closet while Sovaduna spoke to the branch with a series of soft, slow and strange words.

“Would it bother you if I sit?” Rum asked Eleganto, stepping up to the sentient furniture.

“Not at all.” Eleganto replied. “I can’t see anything that’s happening down over there anyways.”

Rum looked back over at the closet, where the skinny elf, having gotten down in a squatting position, was now leaned forward, her lips nearly touching the wood as she let out another series of faintly audible soft sounds.

The mage, his eyes coming back to the chair, grabbed Eleganto’s frame and performed some adjustment to the chair’s pointed direction, thereby giving himself a better viewing angle to the woodspeaking when he subsequently sat down. Like all the sentient furniture he’d so far met that was meant for sitting, the face of the dining chair was on the seat itself. Thus, Eleganto really had little possibility of looking at things which were happening at lower heights, such as people squatting to the floor.

“Having your butt on my face is actually kind-of relaxing” Eleganto spoke into Rum’s buttcheeks after a few seconds. “My special enchanted sight and hearing, they both appear, hmm... less intense?”

Rum chose to ignore the comment, because as Eleganto spoke, he could feel the dining chair’s voice vibrate up his butt. And that was a kind of sensation his butt was not prepared to recieve. He rather hoped that by not replying, the chair would simply decide to speak no further, and thus he wouldn’t have to step out of the chair he was now starting to discover the comforts of, merely to avoid further anal vibrations.

“So, can you tell what’s happening?” Eleganto asked, giving Rum’s butt another burst of tingly experience.

Rum made a quiet, slow, and long breath. Do I stay seated, or do I stand? He felt too lazy to stand at the moment, so he decided to answer the question. Maybe an answer will be enough. “She’s still speaking to branch.” He said. “It appears to be extending itself a bit, and creeping along the floor near the closet. It’s a little difficult to describe–“

“–does it look like a wall?”

Weathering the vibrations to his butt as the chair spoke a higher volume, Rum thought about the question for a second. “Uhm, no.”

“Oh...” The chair said nothing for a few seconds, letting Rum relax and calm down for a bit. “How long do you think it’ll take before–“

“–ooookay” Rum quickly rose to his feet. “I think that was enough sitting for me. I think my legs are still in the mood for standing.” He shook his legs as if to prove the point. The mage then looked around. He saw Veish, sitting at the bed, her face still tired like earlier that day. She too had been looking at Sovaduna, obviously interested in this rare chance at watching a skilled elven woodspeaker perform her craft. He walked over to the witch. “Hi” Rum said. Of course, he’d been lying to Eleganto, he was still feeling like sitting, so he took this great excuse to take a seat near Veish on the bed. “You’ve been looking less fresh and awake than usual today. Everything alright?”

Veish looked over at him, her face muscle near paralyzed with tiredness. “The furniture won’t go to sleep.”

“Uh” Rum initially produced, “really?”

“Yeah. Don’t need sleep, is what they say.”

“Oh” Rum turned to look at his furniture. “I guess we’ll have to do something about that. Hmm.”

They sat there for a bit.

“This is worse than at Jorteg” Veish complained, though in her deeply tired way. “At least there I only shared bedroom with one other witch. She knew how to shut up at night.”

Rum looked back at her face, thinking for a moment. She didn’t meet his eyes, but instead she looked over at the elf. “You want your own room. Hmm.”

She returned to meet his eyes. He continued. “You know, with the total lack of spatial constraints here, you could have more than just a room. You could have your own house.”

Her mouth opened a little at that. It even lingered open for a couple of seconds, before she spoke. “You’d make me a house?”

Rum breathed thinkingly through his nose. “Not right now. Don’t have the resources. But that could possibly change soon. I’ll have to think about hiring someone to actually make a house too though. That’s not a skill I have, and I presume you have no experience with building houses either?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“No experience.”

“Maybe I’ll find someone then. Meanwhile, I’ll talk to the new guests, to let them know to respect your sleep time.”

“Thank you.” She even nodded and closed her eyes in a clear and sincere thankfulness.

Nothing more likely to inspire gratitude, than the provision of a good night’s sleep, Rum reflected.

He proceeded to stand up and walk over to the furniture, explaining to them that they had to be quiet when Veish was going to sleep. He suggested that they move themselves a bit further from the entrance, away and into the darkness, where they could whisper, when the time for sleep arrived but they still wanted to chat. Unsurprisingly, they were quite accomodating of his request. To them, he was The Saviour after all. Rum shuddered a little at the designation. I really don’t like them calling me that. It really doesn’t sit right with me. It’s an oversimplification and mystification of the truth. The main reason I saved them after all, was because of a horrible event, which I played a key part in triggering. Calling me a saviour after that...

He shook his head, and went back to sit down next to Veish. He looked at her for a bit. Then reached out with a finger, and pointed it at the witch’s forehead. “Want me to help you out a bit, with a spell?”

With her eyes unfocused, Veish near-mumbled “Hit me” in response.

“Clear Mind.” A blue ZAP! of magical energy arced over and into her skin.

Veish’s eyes soon widened, and even if the tiredness was not entirely gone from her face, she looked massively more awake than before. “That was effective” she immediately commented, surprised at finding herself in such a clearer state of mind.

Rum and Veish watched Sovaduna together. It was an interesting show, if a little slow. The elf’s eyes had turned emerald green with magic. She was touching the wood now with one of her hands, and her lips were less than 2 centimeters from the bark. Faint gleames of emerald magic spawned at the branch’s surface, and as they watched the wood slowly bent over and down into The Dark Closet. There it curled left, and very so slightly climbed up the endless wall.

It went on for nearly an hour, before suddenly, the magic of Sovaduna’s eyes faded, and she released the wood, standing up. The elf looked over at the duo on the bed. “I’ve told it what we need from it. My part of the work is now over. It’s your part now, Great Mage.”

Rum got up from the large bed, and walked over to closet entrance. Standing by the branch, its shape before him bent and stretched and curled, he knelt down to it. He put a hand on, and spoke magic: “Grow.” As with the last time he’d used the spell, a green-yellowish light descended from his hand, soon spreading out across the bark in the look of a gleaming bioluminescent liquid.

He rose up.

“That’s it” Sovaduna said. “Only time, and you remembering to feed it mana, will make a wall of it now.”

“Thank you” Rum smiled at the elf. “This has been most useful, and educational.”

“Helping a friend of The Committee of The Spruce, is like helping family” Sovaduna smiled back. Then leaned forwards and gave the mage a little hug. “I wish you good luck.”

“And good luck to you!” Rum replied, smiling some more as their locked bodies detached. “If you need one of your plants to grow faster, you know where to find me!”

Sovaduna smiled, then turned to leave. She departed the closet, and then Amez’ workshop. Watching her walk out of the building and close the backdoor, Rum turned around and stepped back into The Dark Closet.

“Well folks, seems like the problem will be solved in a little while.” He wandered into the crowd of furniture. “I don’t know how long it’ll take, but if the growth of The Vum Tree – a tree I recently planted to get some magic for Veish’s wand – if that speedy growth is anything to go by, this should take a week at the most.”

Over at the bed, Rum saw Veish take out her wand from under one of her big pillows. She stared at it some, and with the furniture having no immediate comments, the wizard decided step over to the witch. “You seem in thought” Rum pointed out.

“Can my wand” she met his eyes, “The Joy Stick” she corrected herself, causing Rum to smile, “can it cast that spell you used? Clear Mind?”

“No” Rum shook his head, “unfortunately. That wasn’t one of the spells I put into it.”

Veish bit her lips. “Is it possible to add it?”

Rum nodded. “Yes, I would quite think so. I mean, everything I’ve done with that wand has been my first time trying, so it might well be that it’s not a good idea to alter it now that it’s already been completed, and the magic has set in, so-to-speak. But sure, it’s possible.”

Veish looked at the other mage for a bit. Saying nothing.

“You want me to try that?” The beginner wand-maker asked.

Veish nodded.

“Hmm.” Rum’s looked into the floor in thought. He put a hand to his chin, stroking his beard some. “What about another idea?” His eyes came back up, meeting hers. “What if instead, I teach you Person Magic?”