Shrine on

John’s afternoon had passed in a blur after that. Matilda’s gentle teasing as she dished him up a generous helping of pasta, along with a passing comment about him needing to keep his stamina up somehow, thankfully had passed over Wesley’s head. It hadn’t, however, passed over John’s, and even by his usual standards he had played terrible chess. At the end of lunch, Wesley shook his head. “Your mind’s not in it today, man. No worries - rematch tomorrow?”

Agreeing mostly to get out of the canteen and off to history, John got to class before sinking into both his chair and a reverie that barely passed as he moved from learning the finer points of textiles in the Arts and Crafts movement in England in the eighteen hundreds to the final session of the day. Religion was marginally more interesting for him in light of his Cleric status, but even that faded into noise as he answered questions on the great schism more or less automatically. Christianity and its factions was something he found moderately dull to begin with, but having spoken with actual gods, it was even more of a drain on his alertness than normal.

The bell finally ringing was both a relief and the cause of more than one concern. Ducking out of class, he ran down the back stairs two at a time, hoping to get out of the rear entrance before Frank could corner him. That, at least, got the first of the concerns out of the way - there was no sign of the jock as John skidded out of the gates and turned towards the church.

The other concern was waiting for him when he arrived at his destination, standing inside the church grounds and looking almost as nervous as John felt. Rebecca was dressed much the same as the last time he’d seen her in an Ashcroft blazer and skirt, although this time her backpack had been replaced with a far smaller shoulder bag. Glancing at it, John raised an eyebrow. “No weapons?” he asked quietly, a little surprised that she’d not bothered to bring her sword with her.

The brunette shrugged and put on what she hoped was a charming smile. “I didn’t think it would be necessary if we’re building a shrine to the Lady. Plus, my weapons instructor says I should practice with other things besides my sword.” Flipping her bag open to show him, the hilts of two daggers were visible beneath her textbooks. “This is also less hassle to keep hidden during the day.”

John nodded, then gestured towards the cemetery at the rear of the church. “We can enter the Barrier back there, it’s a bit more secluded,” he said, starting to walk in the direction he’d indicated, “and I was planning on building the shrine behind the building anyhow.”

His companion scurried after him as John reached the side of the main structure, her footsteps soft on the path as she caught up. “I’d have thought you’d build it inside?” she asked as he led her towards the gap between the two mausoleums he’d used as a transfer point before.

Slipping between realities instead of replying immediately, John glanced around and relaxed as he saw that there was still a complete absence of anything outside the building. He’d been pretty sure that the presence of the pictsies would have kept anything too hostile away, but even so he’d been nervous as he entered the Barrier. Rebecca appeared next to him a moment later, and John gestured to the rear wall of the church.

“Going to build it here - the building itself is occupied. They’re friendly… at least, I think so, but it’s best if…” he was cut off from saying any more by a yell coming from the building.

“Ye came back then, laddie? Jimmy dinnae lead us wrong when he said ye’d be back, tho he didnae mention anything about a lassie in tow. Afternoon to ye too, lassie, Lady watch over ye.” The words came from a figure sitting on the windowsill, smoking a pipe that was almost as long as her body. Admittedly, said body was also only four or five inches tall, even counting the mess of wild red hair.

Rebecca stared somewhat open mouthed at this greeting, while John gave a neighbourly nod. “Are you here as a welcome party, or just taking in the afternoon air?” he asked politely.

The pictsie gave a snort and swung her legs back onto the windowsill, setting the pipe down and scrambling to her feet. “Ye learned tae be polite after Jimmy put the fear o’ himself into ye, I take it. Well, laddie, after ye poked yer nose around, he decided we ought keep a watch an’ all. Lucky me just happened to pull the shift ye turned up in again. Ye building tha’ wee shrine now?”

John gave a shrug and a nod, before stepping closer to the wall. “Anywhere in particular that’d work best? I promised Jimmy I’d build it so that you could use it for your own offerings.”

A frown crossed the face of the pictsie, clearly not expecting this line of questioning. After a moment, she gestured vaguely to one side. “Over there’ll be fine. If ye leave the space under the window free, we can build a wee route down to it for right sized folk, ye ken? So no closer than that stone there.”

Nodding, John made a note of the stone she’d indicated before proceeding to pull everything from his inventory. Both Rebecca and the pictsie’s eyes went slightly wide as piles of construction material appeared from thin air, even if the novice had already seen his Inventory in action.

Counting out what he needed for the Quest carefully, John piled the remaining material next to where the pictsie was sitting. “This is extra, so you can consider it a gift. I gathered a bit more than I needed,” he said, before turning back to Rebecca. “Which just leaves the icon. I believe you said you had one?”

The brunette jumped slightly at his words, snapping out of her bemusement at his discussion with the pictsie, and proceeded to rummage in her bag for a moment before pulling out a small golden orb. “We use many symbols to worship the Lady,” she explained as she turned it over in her hands. “Designs of her as the Lady Gaia, designs of the hammer by which she smites the unrighteous, images of the Rose, of course… but we… I mean, I thought you’d probably want one that was as non-denominational as possible. Here.”

Trying to ignore the ‘we’ and who else that might mean Rebecca had told about his construction, John took the orb in his hand and turned it over. Up close, he could see that it wasn’t a flat sphere - instead, it appeared to be an embossed globe, the continents barely raised above the surface. From the wall behind him, the young pictsie gave a yelp as a figure neither she nor John had noticed arriving let out a low whistle. “Tha’ there’s fine craftsmanship, ye can ken that alright, laddie? Even a wee lass like young Alice can see the work that’s gone in tae make an icon of the Lady as the world. Ye dunnae see many of them around these days. ‘Course, a wee bairne like my granddaughter here would nae understand what she’s lookin’ at other than that it’s been made with care.”

Turning as the Quest completion chimed in his head, John inclined his head respectfully. “Pleasure to see you again, Mr Not-So-Wee Jimmy. And thank you for the introduction - pleasure to meet you, Alice.”

The older pictsie took the pipe from his granddaughter’s hands and sucked in smoke before he nodded in reply. “Ye came back, right enough. Get tae building yon shrine then, laddie. I want to see what the Lady has in store for ye.”

John blinked, then moved quickly. Something told him he should look at his Quest before he attempted to do any manual labour; doing his best not to let on to Rebecca what he was doing as she inspected the two pictsies, he pulled up the familiar blue box. Everything was as he’d left it… except, next to the completed list of things he needed to gather to build his own shrine, there was now a gently blinking button marked ‘Construct’. Hesitantly, he reached out and tapped it.

Rebecca was busily studying the two tiny figures when she felt the air displace next to her. Turning her head rapidly, she was just in time to see… what? A glowing outline? Even as she thought that, the memory faded like a dream, leaving only the certainty that she’d seen something. In its place, what she saw was unreal. John had pulled piles of wood, leaves and scrap metal together along with the golden orb. There was no way, even if he were a master craftsman, that he could have built what she was now looking at. Next to the wall of the church, timber and metal rose to form a low table draped with cloth and edged with leaves. Candles were set at each of the corners, while further metal and wood rose in a delicate arch to hold the icon of Gaia above the altar. It was elegant, well made - and utterly impossible.