As morning dawned, Scout appeared out of nowhere. Standing in the fields behind the Throughnight Cathedral-Mansion, colours swirled around under its skin. Its small, pale body took on the shapes and colours of the grasses it stood amongst, making it nearly invisible. The death of Uncle Bear-Nard had left it alone. So many of its past companions had died that another one should not have mattered, but this time it felt different. Everything felt different. In only one day the smells, sounds and sights had altered enough for it to feel a change in the air. Hearing Quixote approach, it froze and watched him.
***
Quixote frolicked in and out of the blue, misty lines floating above the earth around his feet. He did not care why they were there, they just seemed fun and that was enough for him. One of the lines shone a little brighter and had more swirls in it than the others. It led off into the fields behind the Cathedral-Mansion. Fancy free and feeling exhilarated by their string of wins, he dashed across the field following it toward Hirad’s Forest in the northern hills.
Dressed as a traveling minstrel, lute in hand, he could not have imagined a better life, or a better outcome to their recent battles. Even Lexington in her coma did not perturb him. Confident they would find a costume or something to bring her round, all that remained was to explore and discover.
With tassels trailing behind and puffy, slit, sleeves making him look more round-shouldered than he was, he slipped into the trees, grabbing his lop-sided pudding hat, seeking the whim that drew him there.
Darting amongst the trees and the bushes he arrived at the giant statues. They stood as unchanged as ever guarding the oversized doorway that he knew must have once belonged to a giant.
Except this time the doors swung inwards, opening a great dark expanse. Just like the cave inside the Forbidden Place in the Southern Wasteland, its dark innards begged to be explored. Many of the misty, blue lines converged on the open door, the speed of the mist increasing as they entered it.
To tempting to not investigate, Quixote trod inside
***
Scout stood before the doors, stunned and excited. Great tears welled in its eyes. It followed after Quixote, racing through the doors. After 50,000 years the doors to his ancient home were now finally open.