Chapter Four: The Cottage or Thanh Wojnak

Long ago the races dwelled apart in lands and kingdoms of their own. There was Elvish Kingdoms. Dwarven Kingdoms. The Fairy and Pixie Courts. Centaur Isles. And various Human Kingdoms as well. As technology and magic progressed, alliances sprouted between the races and war erupted between the kingdoms. Allied with eachother in both war and trade, the exchange of cultures was inevitable. Soon kingdoms mingled, and the old lines drawn between the races died. It wasn't long before interbreeding became common, though acceptance of the half and quarter breeds took time. Especially among the longer-living races. Even at present, there were those who frowned on it.

But eventually it came to be that the kingdoms were no longer divided by race, only by borders. Every kingdom boasted a population of all the races. And after the fourth and final of the Border Wars, relative peace settled upon the lands.

It took a century or so, but the leaders of the kingdoms began to notice a disturbing decline in child births. Research pinpointed that there was also a severe decline in marriages. Apparently, the population was so content with their lives they no longer felt the same need to settle down as they had in the past. Various ways of increasing marriage and childbirth were tried throughout the kingdoms. Rewards were offered for those who would marry and have children. (But that turned out to be too draining on the kingdom's resources.) Laws were past requiring marriage by a certain age. (Strangely, this seemed to have no effect on childbirth.) In one kingdom members of the populace were randomly chosen to marry and reproduce. (This led to The Ongehuwd Rebellion from which Apatite was still recovering.)

Then the Matchmakers emerged. Individuals born with the ability to read the hearts of others. Their pairings slowly reversed the population decline of the kingdoms. Now nearly every city and most of the towns boasted Matchmakers. The position was both honored and revered. And - to some - who they depended on to fulfill their hopes and dreams.

That was the history Columbus spent the night detailing to Arlyne. And - while fascinating - was also daunting. She had a feeling she might have bitten off more than she could chew. At the same time, though, she was certain she had to make it work. Failure wasn't an option if she wanted to make it home alive.

Columbus, who was a Pixie as it turned out, had some knowledge of magic. But Pixie magic was apparently limited to curses and charms of a temporary nature. Though the concepts of other worlds was new to him, he took it in far greater stride than she did. Magic was commonplace in the kingdoms, though. So his mind was far more open to fantastical possibilities than hers. She found that both comforting and disturbing.

She and Columbus had come to a deal. Columbus would assist her in adjusting to both Carnelian and her duties as a Matchmaker. In return, Arlyne would tell the elders of Nowhere that she'd taken him on as an apprentice. Columbus would assist her in finding a way back home. And in return, she'd name him Nowhere's Matchmaker upon her departure. All of this, though, depended on her passing her trial period and being named Nowhere's official Matchmaker.

Columbus volunteered to check Reinaldo's bookstore for books on the subject of other worlds and anything magically related. He encouraged her to seek out one of the few magically-gifted citizens of Nowhere. Though the title of citizen was loosely used in this case, he said, due to her living outside of Nowhere. Ironically, it was none other than Thanh Wojnak. And her magic specialty was Necromancy.


Thanh Wojnak's cottage was stuck somewhere between picket fence cute and gothic creepy. There was, in fact, a picket fence. Though it was natural tone wood and not white. The entrance, however, was a short wrought iron gate decorated with spiderwebs, bats, and mysterious symbols that Arlyne guessed were some sort of runes. The yard was neatly kept, and rosebushes graced the front of the house. However, the roses were alternating black and blood red, and the lawn had several stone statues of gargoyles, skeletons, and... other things that she wasn't even sure what they were.

A rocking chair was on the front porch, and there was a welcome sign. Which was somewhat less than welcoming since what looked like a plushy spider hung suspended from the bottom. It wasn't until it moved she realized it was a real spider. She contemplated turning around and going back to Nowhere.

That was when the front door opened. "Matchmaker Arlyne!" Thanh was genuinely surprised to see her. She seemed happy as well, but Arlyne wasn't sure.

"Hello again, Ms Wojnak." She greeted.

"I heard the news that the elders accepted you." Thanh mentioned.

Considering that it had occurred only the previous evening, it was a pretty amazing feat. Did news just travel that fast in Carnelian, or did Thanh have a source others didn't? She wondered. "Only on a trial period." She corrected.

"I sincerely hope things turn out for the best for you... what brings you here?"

It was an obvious enough question under the circumstances. But once again Arlyne felt that she could see hope in the young woman's eyes. Curious though it was, she tried to concentrate on her reason for being here. A simple question with a very complicated answer.

"Someone suggested I seek your advice. You seem to be one of the few magic practitioners in the area, so even though it isn't really your area of expertise, I was wondering what you might know about journeying between worlds."

"I take it we aren't discussing the Netherrealms." Thanh's lips quirked.

"Um...no, I don't think so."

"I don't have much knowledge of other realms beyond that, but I might know someone who does."

"Are they nearby?"

"In a sense." Thanh was amused again. "They're dead. But as a necromancer that really isn't an obstacle. The obstacle right now is...well, why don't you come in?"

"Sure." Arlyne nodded. "Thank-you."

"I don't get too many visitors." Thanh admitted as they entered the house. "Most aren't very comfortable with my line of work. So for the most part no one comes unless they need my services."

The inside of Thanh's hut was much like the outside. There were flowers vases, but they were all filled with the red and black roses from out front. Tablecloths embroidered with roses, but in blacks and greys. On one side table where one of the vases sat the table also had a crocheted table runner ran across it. But as the pattern was spiderwebs, it once again wasn't exactly quaint. A large cauldron hung in the fireplace. And one cabinet held jars filled with plants and what looked to possibly be preserved bodies of frogs. Thanh hastily closed the cabinet, her face flushing a little. "Sorry, I try not to disturb my visitors sensibilities." A crow cawed from it's perch on the coat stand and Thanh shot it a venomous look. "I'd mind you to keep your opinions to yourself."

The crow seemed to huff by puffing it's feather and then straightening then. It then began to clean its wing.

"Sorry, his manners can be atrocious. But he means well." Thanh smiled.

"Um, that's okay." Arlyne assured her. "The crochet table runner's pretty." She offered. Her grandmother had always taught her to compliment something in someone's home when one was invited in. Afterall, people spent alot of time and effort decorating their homes so it was only fair to compliment them when they'd let you into it. She had said it didn't hurt that it tended to put you on their good side.

Like with so many things, her grandmother's advice was obviously spot on. Thanh's face blossomed into a bright smile. "You think so? I always see the flaws in my pieces."

"You did it?" Arlyne blinked in surprise. "Wow! That's amazing! I tried to crochet a shawl for a dress once, but I threw it away - needles and all. It was just terrible!"

"You shouldn't have thrown it away!" Thanh told her. "The first try is never going to look perfect. I still rather think of my work as mediocre. But I do enjoy it. I can't sew clothing to save my life, though. The town seamstress stocks up on dark colors just for me, I swear."

"Oh, I love sewing." Arlyne told her. "I made this dress." She grabbed handfuls of the skirt to hold out.

"You did that? It's beautiful!" Thanh enthused.

Arlyne felt like she'd been transported back to the convention. She was pretty sure Meredith and her first conversation had been alot like this. Though in Meredith's case it had involved jewelry making, not crocheting. And Meredith could sew. Suddenly hit by a bout of homesickness, she let go of the skirt. "Thank-you." She told Thanh, though her smile was fading. "I'm sorry. I've taken us terribly off subject."

"Oh, of course." Thanh watched her closely. "I'm sorry. Why don't you sit down? I'll get Frank to make us some tea." Going to a side window she opened it. "Frank! Frank! Ah, there you are. Can you make some tea? We have a visitor. Yes, I know, but can't it wait? Tea won't take long. Thank you!" She closed the window again, before sitting across from Arlyne at the small table.

There'd been no audible answers to the words she'd shouted out the window. Arlyne had no idea who - or what - Thanh had been talking to. Thanh had said she was unmarried. A brother maybe?

"So, your curious about other worlds?" Thanh asked her.

"Yes. I need to know what you can tell me about other worlds. Or realms. Or whatever. And how one might cross inbetween them."

Thanh's eyes grew wide. "I do think that's well beyond my knowledge in the matter. I know they exist. And at some points the fabric between them is weaker, which enables crossing to occur. But how to part the fabric and make it occur?" She shook her head to indicate her lack of knowledge.

Arlyne felt her hopes plummet. Still, she pushed on. "But crossings do occur? Accidently? Or would magic have to be involved somehow?"

"I'm sorry. I really don't know." Thanh admitted. "As I said, I might know someone who can answer the questions. And I'd be happy to do a calling for you, but I have a slight problem."

"What's that?"

A skeleton walked into the room. Arlyne felt her throat tighten around the scream she wanted to burst out. She stared wide-eyed at what some part of her was saying was the verifiable proof that she'd finally gone insane. That this whole experience was nothing but a bout of insanity that had been long in coming. This was further substantiated by the fact that the skeleton was carrying a tray with tea on it. Noting her distraction, Thanh turned to the skeleton. "Oh, Frank. Just put it down here."

The skeleton tilted it's bony head in what Arlyne guessed was a nod, then moved forward to place the tray on their table. It was, in fact, a remarkably clean skeleton, Arlyne noted somewhere in the middle of her silent melt-down. There was no dead skin or anything else hanging from its bone structure. The bones themselves were yellowed, but showed no sign of dirt, or worms, or any of the gruesome things fantasy artists and movie makers liked to add on for effect.

"This is Frank, my scribe." Thanh introduced. "Frank, this is Nowhere's new Matchmaker. Arlyne Pennig."

"H-how do you do, Frank?" Arlyne managed to only stutter a little as she held out her hand.

Skeleton Frank took hold of her hand gently. While slightly disturbing mentally, the bones themselves felt hard, dry, and not at all unpleasant. Instead of shaking her hand, though, he brought the back of her fingers up to touch against his teeth in the imitation of how a live person might kiss a woman's hand. While also a bit mentally disturbing, there was also something sweet about the gesture, which was furthered by him handing her a red rose.

"Oh...Thank-you." Arlyne found talking to the skeleton easier now that the initial shock was fading. Or maybe the shock was just setting in, which could also be a possible explanation for her calmness.

"Smooth-talker." Thanh chastised. "Shoo, now." She was obviously more amused than upset by the Skeleton's behavior. The skeleton bowed, then produced a black rose for the Necromancer, which Thanh took with a bemused shake of her head. Then Frank exited the room. Arlyne vaguely noted that his bones didn't rattle. The fact might later ruin her enjoyment of some books that included undead. Each time the undead armies rattled she'd be stuck huffing and thinking - they don't do that.

"Really, I don't know what to do with him." Thank sighed, setting the rose aside.

"Beg your pardon?" Arlyne turned back to the Necromancer, uncertain if she'd missed something during her mental tirade.

"Frank." Thanh expanded on her statement as she poured tea into their cups. "Sugar?"

"Two, please." Arlyne nodded. "What about Frank?" She glanced at the rose in her hand. "He seems rather sweet."

"Oh, he is." Arlyne added the sugar to their teas. "Cream?"

"I'd love some. So what is the problem with Frank?"

"Let me show you." Thanh got up and Arlyne rose to follow. "Oh, don't get up. I'll be right back."

Arlyne sat down as Thanh disappeared down a staircase off the living room. Curious, but uncertain what to expect, she stirred her tea while she waited. It smelled good, and she wondered where Thanh had gotten it from. Thanh emerged carrying what looked like a small leather-bound tome.

"Here it is." A page was marked and she opened the book to that page, before offering it to Arlyne.

Arlyne took it carefully. In the book words were written in beautifully written but easily read script. The writer had also decorated the tops and sides of the page with scrollwork and vines of flowers. She turned her attention back to the words.

'The empty hole within my chest.
Where a heart once beat its last.
Aches with the longing of the bereft,
For the warmth of feelings past.

'The pitter-tap of dainty feet,
The swish of skirt that swirls and glides,
To the ever rousing chorus beat,
As a hopeful gaze meets fluttering eyes.

'Two hearts meet; Two bloods race,
Two spirits rise - now gaily free.
An unforgettable moment; An unexpected place.
The hand of what must be destiny.

'Long before, so long ago.
When earthly shroud did hold its whim.
Now these old and dusty bones
Mourn for what once might have been.'

Arlyne glanced up. "Frank?"

Thanh nodded. "Frank." She verified.

"It's really good." Arlyne couldn't help but point out.

Thanh sighed. "I know. That's what makes it so hard to berate him. But he was supposed to be transcribing my meeting with a ghoul. Not writing poetry."

"Oh." Arlyne glanced at the book. "So that's the obstacle with you doing a calling for me?"

"For you and anyone." Thanh took a sip of her tea with a sigh. "Alot of information is passed on during a calling. I can't always remember it all. And spirits and undead are tricky things. Sometimes how they phrase something is even more important to what the words mean than with the living. That's why I animated Frank. To scribe fore me so I always give the message right. We've worked together for years. He's been a wonderful help, and a rather dear friend, too. Then this started." She gestured to the poetry. "I'm at my wits end."

"When did it start?" Arlyne asked.

"A few months back." Thanh replied. "He started out doing it in his down time. Which was fine. But now that it's escalated to interrupting our work. Well, what's a Necromancer to do?"

Arlyne re-read the poem. A though nagging at her. "Well, it almost seems like... he's lonely."

"...it does get lonely out here sometimes." Thanh admitted, here eyes distant and her voice tinged with sorrow. "But why now? Oh!" Her eyes widened, as if realizing something. "Oh, of course. I never even connected it..." She was speaking to herself, but Arlyne eyed her curiously.

"Connected what?" She asked when the Necromancer didn't expand on the statement.

Thanh blushed, her eyes refocusing. She seemed to have completely forgotten she was there. "I think I know what set him off, but it doesn't help."

"Why not?"

"Because if he's seeking companionship, well, I can animate him one without a problem. but that doesn't mean they'll be compatible. There's a lot of factors involved in the personality a Raised takes on. So chances are..." Thanh shrugged. "It would be a gamble."

Arlyne studied the poem again. "The pitter-tap of dainty feet; The swish of skirt that swirls and glides; To the ever rousing chorus beat..." She read aloud, her voice thoughtful. "Say, Thanh? How many can you Raise at the same time?"