Ivor

“Just drop it here, I will get it in, myself,” says Thayer to the driver of the cart.

“If you say so.” And with that said, the rolled up carpet is pushed off the wooden wagon.

It thuds to the woodland grounds.

“Thanks! I will share a beer with you, next time you visit the pub.” Calls out stocky Thayer.

The driver lifts his thumb and puts his mule into motion.

Quick enough Thayer finds out how stupid it was to send the cart driver away already.

The carpet, that he has bought, is long and heavy.

Even with his big strong hands, Thayer finds it difficult to haul the carpet into the newly rented house.

A rented house, that definitely qualifies as a fixer upper. But it is his place for now. Secluded enough yet close enough to the village.

Thayer loves it. Woods to run around in, a pub to tell his wild stores.

Sheer heaven, even though there is not much snow. Are his thoughts on that subject.

Eventually, after lots of towing and shoving, he succeeds to unroll the carpet in his dining -slash- living room.

Content that his labour has reached result he smiles at the carpet.

One of his big strong hands goes over a side of his face, and caresses his sideburns that reaches his chin. A mustache even connects those sideburns and above the face curly hair give way for bright gleaming eyes.

Though currently, a bit exhausted, gleaming eyes.

“And now it is time for a drink.” He talks out loud, even if no one else is here.

He lives alone in this big cabin, which easily could contain a family.

The reason he gets to live here, is because he promised to mend this broken down shed. Once fixed he will move on.

At this moment he only moves into the kitchen. The drink he pours is some brown ale.

Then he hears some coughing, followed by an, “Achoo…”

Automatically Thayer replies; “Bless you.”

“You bless, but who are you?” Is the response to his words.

Suddenly Thayer realises that someone sneezed and spoke to him.

~ Somewhere else, on a desk, lies a magical stone. It starts to glow it’s purple shine. But no one is there to notice it. ~

Thayer grabs the frying pan and turns quickly back towards the living slash dinning room.

There a bloke is just rising from the floor.

Now Thayer himself is short and stocky. So his eyes travel upwards as a young guy towers in his room.

They guy is pale, tall, and has black spikey hairs falling in front of his face.

He is clad in a long black leather coat.

But the most prominent feature this coat has, is not the colour. It are all the clasps that adorn the sleeves.

Now that this stranger, who he did not hear enter his house, is upright, Thayer receives a smile.

“Hel low....” It is a hello but slightly different.

Thayer raises the frying pan, even though that is not his real weapon.

“How did you get in here? Who are you?”

The tall bloke takes these questions and thinks. “I am in? I just thought I got out.” He shows a puzzled face.

On the second question that Thayer had let loose he replies, “Not fair, I asked you first..., who are you?”

“I am Thayer and you are in my house. But how did you get here?!”

My hearing is excellent..and I did not hear you come up to the house! Thayer knows he can trust his ears.

“There was this ball of smoke, and dust. Mainly dust. The carpet was full of it. Tastes terrible but you do what you got to, to survive, too... or three. That depends.”

Thayer lowers the frying pan. Even puts it down on a nearby table.

Which only means that he could really do damage, if he thinks this young bloke is dangerous.

He decides to ignore that last incoherent sentence and try again. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

The reply he gets, is delivered with a broad smile. “I am eager, I am Ivor. I just rolled out of a rugged situation.”

“Hello eager Ivor, What does that mean exactly?” prompts Thayer, who already sketches a story. A tale where this Ivor is on the run, and people with bad intentions are after him.

“Exactly it means; that I rolled out of this carpet.”

And Ivor points at the thing. He also gives it a glance and immediately takes a double take. “Wait! Is that the pattern?! No wonder I got stuck in that corner.”

Ivor now dives down to the carpet and taps a line on the pattern. “If I had just climbed over that bit, I wouldn’t have been stuck.”

“Oh but that part next to it, isn’t really interesting. Never mind.” And with that said, he comes back up again.

Thayer’s surprised frown is turning into amused acceptance. This must be something magical.

Thayer himself deals with magic every day. Even though he is no expert. It just is natural to him.

At least, it seems, in front of him is just a weird guy, but harmless. That is what Thayer thinks until he spots a slender knife as part of Ivor’s boot.

Which make Thayer adjust his assumptions. The knife is part of this strange outfit the guy wears. An outfit with so many buckles and claps, that Thayer wonders what they are there for.

But before these details distract him, Thayer asks the more pressing question. “Why were you in a carpet?”

“I offended a Fae.”

“Did you now?!” Grins Thayer. “How did you do that?”

“Can’t really say. I was in my purple haze, hanging sideways. I must have said something because the Fae was miffed.”

“And is this angry fairy still after you?” Asks Thayer, to get an indication of possible danger. Fae folk are not to be messed with. He knows that very well.

“Not that I know of. He or she never visited. Which is a pity. Because I was awfully lonely in a carpet.”

“Yeah, I can imagine not much goes on in a carpet,” smiles Thayer

“How long where you in it?”

“Not much clocks in a carpet. So I have no idea. A while, I would say.”

Although this Ivor may start a brilliant tale, Thayer first wants to know if he brings trouble with him.

“What is with that knife, sticking out of your boot?”

“Who, these?” Asks Ivor as he quickly bends and pulls out two knives. “This is Dish and this is Fish.”

Two slender knives are presented.

Then he puts one more or less behind his back.

“Don’t tell him. But Fish is a replacement for the Fish who I lost in a ritual. But he doesn’t have to know that.”

“You named your knives?”

“Yesss,” hisses Ivor with a grin. He puts the knives back in the sheaths that his boots provide.

“And then there are these guppies.” He adds, as he pulls out small throwing knives from somewhere.

“Be careful. The guppies can easily take out an eye. They like glimmers.”

“I am very good with knives. Do you want a demonstration?”

“No. What are you? An assassin?“” Thayer immediately asks.

“No! I am a hobbyist.”

This makes Thayer grin. “Good for you. I am a hedonist.”

“What’s that?”

“A pleasure seeker. A person who enjoys life. And I am a storyteller at that.”

“Wohee that sounds fun!” Calls out Ivor. “Do you know the tail tale?”

“Not as such,” Says Thayer.

“It is story about tail swapping. I believe the pigtails ended up with the girl and the braids ended up with the pig. It is a classic.”

“My stories are not handed down tales. I usually vividly describe my own adventures. And I can make a walk towards the bakery sound like an adventure.” At that Thayer gives a grin and a wink.

Ivor doesn’t really say something back but that his wink is received and interpreted as a different signal is obvious. Because Thayer gets a flirty look back.

That look then causes a amused frown on Thayer’s face, who decides not to go into this, right now.

“So you are good with knives, but no assassin. What are you then?”

“Currently I am a ex-dust eater. Used to be a good conductor and before that a lab rat. And way before that, I was less than the mule.”

Thayer looks at him and tries to follow the context.

“I can swing words around. But you can say things and hide every clue what it is about, can’t you, Ivor?”

“It is a talent.” Grins Ivor back. “I can also easily offend. Just ask that Fae.”

“Did he give you his name? I been to fairy land once, might have met him.”

“Really, you been to fairy land? And got out again?! Impressive!” That is the genuine surprised reaction that Ivor gives.

“I have a story to tell about that trip. Saw a fairy banquet, saw the high places Fae and danced among them.” Grins Thayer proud as he recalls this trip with much mirth. “May take a bit too much time to tell right now.”

“Well the Fae I met..., I don’t know if he said his name. I was conducting! He was a category manipulation, class two even. The top overcoat was very impressed. That is all I recall.”

This makes Ivor think back and remember the slight smile on his archenemy’s face. That was a rare sight. Which changed to aghast when the Fairy had expressed his displeasure.

Ivor shakes that face out of his mind, especially that slight smile.

“Come on. Let me give a demonstration! I have become really good you know. Practiced for ages at throwing them.”

“Those knives? Very well. Just don’t aim them at me,” Says Thayer back.

“Woohoo!” Shouts Ivor enthusiastic. Before Thayer knows it, the guppies that Ivor held are tucked away.

Then the guy runs up the stairs towards the platform, that overlooks the living room.

Ivor’s long legs go through the balustrade. Next he pops his arms through and somewhere his face squeezes between two bars that make this protective ridge.

It all means his body has obstacles and getting at the knives is harder. Even so, Ivor pulls out one after the other of those silvery throwing knives and they end up in a wooden door of a closet.

In the end, he even pulls out the knives he named and throws them.

“This takes me back to the cages!” And just saying that, makes sure another face pops in his mind. A dwarfish handsome one…. Pjeer...

That Ivor recalls his first former lover is lost on Thayer.

The stocky man goes to look where the knives, that Ivor threw, ended up in. That it was a good closet, one of the few things in here undamaged, is just a fact.

It went all real quick and fast. When Thayer looks he sees an flourishing F, made out of knives embedded in his closet door.

“F stands for?”

“Flabbergasted. Or Fauryll. Or if you want ….Flabbergasting Fauryll.”

“Who is that?

“The god of aim, precision and perfection...and add to that luck.” That is what Ivor says as he worms himself out of the balustrade again to rise.

“He was on your side that is for sure.” Thayer is impressed by the skill.“Are you a devout believer of that god?”

“No,not at all. They still have no scientific proof that Gods exist. So as long as no essay is published that can actually provide a verified proof, we will maintain the view that it is just people giving their own mana to manifest a form they call godly. ”

They way Ivor now speaks is dreary, as he descends down the stairs again. He then gags. “Oh revolting! I thought that in his voice again. That is so unsolicited and unwanted.”

Clearly he dislikes thinking like that.

“You know. You are a weird guy Ivor. Half of the time I don’t know what you are saying.”

“Yeah. I get that a lot. Maybe I should pass out notes.”

“I get the feeling they would not help your cause.” Grins Thayer, who is starting to accept the fact that the young bloke is probably mad.

Ivor is coming up to take back his knives. “Did you miss me? I bet you did.” He coos at them.

“You talk to your knives? How long where you in that carpet?”

“What? Another clock carpet conversation? I don’t know. I am just ever so glad to get out and I don’t want to go back into it, nor it’s details. Dust is ever so ugly up close let me tell you that.”

“Alright, I believe you.”

Ivor is putting the knives back. Only now does Thayer see the guppies disappear under buckles and clasps.

“So. Taier was it? What do you do, as hedonist, walking in and out of fairy land?”

“It is pronounced Thayer. And If you really want to know with what you dealing with, let me show you.”

“I won’t attack,” promises Thayer. And then he shifts.

It is a magical transformation. The whole person that made up Thayer, including his clothes, become a a huge cat. A lynx to be specific.

“Wow, you are a shifter,” Ivor exclaims happily.

“Catergory manifestation, class 7. No powers to be gained except as mana extract.” Ivor says this with his voice sounding different once again, although not as dreary as before.

“Oh worse! I though that in exactly my archenemy’s way.” Another gagging sound he makes.

Yet the lynx jumps on the table and starts licking it’s paw.

Ivor looks and grins, “So that is why you have huge hands and are so stocky, Thayer. Your human form sort of resembles your cat. It also explain those sideburns you have.”

Thayer returns to his human shape. And thus he sits on his table with a big grin.

“You took that well, Ivor. Some get startled when I do that.”

“I have seen lots of magical creatures, demons and whatnot’s. The higher the class the more pleased the top overcoat was. Class 7 isn’t worth his attention.”

“Who’s?”

“That would be the top overcoat at the ritualists den. He is my arch-nemesis. So we better leave at that.”

“The main question now is: when were you aware, that you were a werecat?” asks Ivor.

“I was born as one, right in a pack of werecats. So from birth I guess.”

“You were aware at birth? Sounds nasty. Glad I wasn’t,” says Ivor.

Yet the tall guy already jumps to a next sentence; “Where is your werecats pack now, I wonder.”

“Still in the snow. But forget that topic. I am hungry. Do you want anything to eat?”

“Oh yes please! I want to eat something that isn’t dusty. Anything would be good. Soup or soap ...I don’t care. As long as it has bubbles.”

“You want me to serve you soap? Nah, I have better food than that.” Grins Thayer and leads Ivor towards the kitchen that is in great disarray. He had not repaired anything in here, ...yet.

Soon the stew is being eaten, with bread and a good dark brown ale next to it, Thayer asks, “Where do you come from?”

“The carpet.” Is Ivor’s direct reply.

“I mean...,before that.”

“Before the carpet, it was the ritualist den. Before that, the facility and way before that the farm. But I came from my mother. That is were it all began. Or so they said. So I actually should have said that.”

“We all come from a mother. But I was actually asking names of towns or places.”

“Places have names?!”

“Yes they do. Like in this instance, we are in the outskirts of a small town called Aroun’thebend.”

“Good solid name for a town that has not a lot to offer. There is a pub. That is good enough for me.”

“I never been in a town.”

“Never?” Thayer asks surprised because that someone hasn’t been to a city he can image. But towns are so common. Even in the snowy slopes where he was born, there were towns. Not a lot but still.

“Wasn’t allowed to wander. So it was either a cage or the storage room where I practiced throwing my knives.”

“A cage? You were locked up?!”

“Yep. As property you get confined most of the time.” Ivor says this in a casual way. Like it is no big deal and goes with the territory.

“Property?”

“Chair.” States Ivor back.

“Huh? What are you saying?”

“Oh. I thought we were associating. Where you call a word and I either connect to that, or disconnect. It was a game I played with Pjeer. That was long, long ago.” Ivor grins, thinking back on that.

Before Thayer can process the out-stream of words Ivor is already on another track.

“Chairs are nice. They give support and and are sturdy…. I would like to be a chair for a day. That would be chairful I think.”

“Wait wait, back up a little. You were imprisoned and considered property?”

“Yeah, well the scientific research facility paid money for me and with that got ownership. And then they sold me to the ritualist den. Who paid a mighty high price for me. At least that is what was whispered into my ear by Gregian.”

Again a former lover pops in his mind and Ivor realises he misses each and everyone more then ever. He was too lonely in the carpet.

“How old where you before you were sold?”Asks Thayer.

“Six.” says Ivor rather proudly.

“That was the first number the put on my sheet. They had to adjust that sheet quite often.”

“How old were you when you were sold again?”

“Nineteen. By then my statistics were: length 2.06 mtr, shoesize 47. Black hair. Brown eyes...on occasion purple. Waist 76… do you want more details?”

“No, I can see the result,” Says Thayer and with that does not only mean the tallness of this guy. If he was in a scientific research center as lab rat, it explains a lot about that weirdness.

“I am twenty five now, same height and same shoe size though. Although lately nobody checked.”

Since Ivor is sidetracking again Thayer asks, “So they locked you up in that science thing?”

“Yeah, well unless they were experimenting on me. But even then I could not leave the grounds. Coats made sure I stayed.”

“Wow, that sound worse than growing up in the wilderness with rivaling packs trying to kill you.”

“Is that your upbringing?”

“Yes, in the cold northern hemisphere I was raised. The full survival game was on in those regions.”

”For us it was a game of survival too. But if you lived or not, all depended on how well the top overcoat Volkior had thought his experiments through.”

“Tell me it did get better at the ritualists den.” Says Thayer, who gets an idea of what it could have been like for Ivor. And he is actually aghast on Ivor’s behalf.

“I got this suit and my knives!” grins Ivor.

“But it was really the same. Waiting in a small place till the fetch you and hang you upside down. Instead of experiments it became rituals. Actually that was even more boring because it is always the same in a ritual.”

Thayer is about to ask more but suddenly holds up his hand. “Someone is coming.”

And indeed a few minutes later there is a knock on the door.

“Thayer are you in? It is me Siofra!”

When he hears the voice and name, a smile appears on Thayer’s face.

"Oh come on Ivor. You want to meet her.” And with that said Thayer, gets up and Ivor follows him to the front door of this cabin.

As soon as the door opens, Ivor’s jaw drops. The former dust eater sees a green world, filled with trees. More than he has ever seen.

And right in front of that spectacular world, stands a young lady with a broad smile.

She is dressed in brown with a tight corset and a white blouse. Her hair has a auburn glow and her eyes sparkle.

In truth, they shine at Thayer but when Ivor steps into the doorway too, she even gives him a smile.

A surprised smile but a smile nonetheless.

“Heyhoooo…" Lets Ivor out with definite approval.

“Siofra meet Ivor, he just dropped in,” says Thayer with much amusement. Knowing that is literally what happened.

“Hello. Nice to meet you.” She says and reaches out a hand.

Ivor does not take the hand. Mainly because he doesn’t know he is supposed to do that.

“Say missy, want to get messy? I would love to put our names on the list. Right now,” Says Ivor with a wink.

A wink that has Thayer and Siofra share a confused glance.

~