Malcolm Tent
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Wish upon the Stars chapter 1055
🕑 Added 2026-01-07 04:25:43 +0000 UTCThe inside of the Lodge was surprisingly warm. Not stifling or anything, but just…toasty. Like there was a roaring fire going just around the corner. And the whole place smelled of pine and woodsmoke. It was oddly homey.
Dayna, to my immense shock, was almost SMILING. She took a long, deep breath. “I’d almost forgotten the smell.”
“It is nice,” I said enthusiastically. “You grew up here?”
She nodded. “In the west wing. Most of the orphanages are there. It was…interesting. We’re actually heading there now.”
“The person you’re taking us to see is in an orphanage?” I asked in confusion.
Chuckling, she nodded. “Her name is Belinda, but most of us called her Mama Bel. She’s one of the most beloved people in the west wing. About a tenth of the orphans in the Lodge were raised by Mama Bel. Plenty of us went on to achieve quite a bit, and we all remember her and do our best to help out where we can. Not just here either, each other. You can always count on another of Mama’s kids if you’re in need.”
Her tone was soft and surprisingly warm. “Like your friend Annabelle?” I asked, fishing for more information on my new friend. “The one you mentioned back at the guild?”
“Annabelle Candlebrook,” she said with a nod. “We were very close when we were young. There was a group of us in the orphanage who stuck together. Anabelle was adopted pretty young, but she always kept in touch. Even if you get placed, you’re always one of Mama’s kids. We don’t forget.”
I frowned at her worriedly. “Did we…did we take you away from a whole life here? I mean, I know Bethy can be a bit much, but if she knew-”
“No,” she said bluntly. “There were parts of my life that weren’t terrible, but they were far outweighed by the ones that were. My friends understood. My lady let me contact them. We used one of your cousin’s scrolls. Still, it will be nice to see Mama Bel. It has been quite a while since we spoke.”
I looked around the hallway. Rough hewn logs with the bark still on were stacked so high they vanished into darkness above, the gaps between them filled with what looked and smelled like pine resin, and the bases decorated with complex and intricate carved baseboards. The floors were a rich, dark hardwood, polished to a mirror sheen from what looked like years of constant traffic. The patina was luxurious and smoky, the kind of wear that told you the wood was finished by a master carpenter who knew how to make things that lasted.
“So, how do we FIND this west wing,” I said slowly, looking around. “Because this all looks…kind of exactly the same to me, not gonna lie.”
She pointed down at the edge of the wall. “The baseboards. The shapes and patterns are coded instructions for where you are where to go. They’re specially designed to indicate direction and utility for different areas. You just need to know how to read them.”
“That’s kind of brilliant,” I admitted. “Locals can navigate perfectly from anywhere they find themselves and no one who isn’t supposed to be here will have any idea where they are.”
“It has its charms,” she admitted, setting off in a seemingly random direction. “This place is…complicated. But not all bad. I suppose nowhere is, really. But I’ve had a much better life since I entered my lady’s service. While there are a few people here I care about, to most I’m either a curiosity or an abomination.”
I shot her a sympathetic look, which thanks to my mask she couldn’t see, and decided that was probably for the best because she didn’t strike me as the type to enjoy being pitied. We walked for about twenty minutes in silence, heading deeper into the nearly identical maze of hallways. I tried to memorize and decipher the baseboards, but despite my high Focus (relatively), I wasn’t able to figure out anything (assuming we weren’t actually approaching the lair of a toothpaste goblin, which was what I deciphered with Dantalion based on a few minutes of scans).
Before long though, we arrived at a large wooden archway. Passing through, we emerged into an even larger chamber, but this one was…well, a world. A tiny world, admittedly. But despite the towering wooden walls, due to the illusion of a sky, sun, and clouds, combined with the sheer size of the area, it really felt like we were just outside now.
“Welcome to the West Wing,” Dayna said solemnly. “Well, one of the districts. This is where Mama Bel’s orphanage is. Follow me.”
She gestured me down a long street made of hard packed dirt, and I followed soundlessly. After a few feet though, I had to ask. “So, why exactly does the woman who ran your orphanage know the entrance to the path we need to take to access Mourne Kayze? Was she a formed worshipper of the Lady? An elite child of Verdyn?”
“Not at all,” she said with a chuckle. “Mama Bel has always been of middling talent in cultivation. She’s B-rank by virtue of her overwhelming popularity, but she’s never been much good in a fight. She also isn’t from the Lady’s church. Rather, her information sources are ones she cultivated doing what she loves. Which is to say, raising children. Her kids adore her, and we all come to visit when we can. Mama hears all the latest gossip, even about secret topics.”
That was honestly kind of wholesome. Knowing this woman had basically become an information broken through kindness was kind of inspiring. I’d spent most of my time recently with members of my family, and the WCP, for all its virtues, was far from kind. If anything, this place had seemed ever worse to me, but I suppose it just went to show that you can find decent people anywhere.
As we continued down the street, I found myself being sucked in by how downright idyllic this place was. Small, cozy looking homes with gabled rooves, picket fences, and neat little paths of cobblestones leading to the doors. I glanced at Dayne in confusion. “Ok, what’s with the architecture? These places don’t look very…Lodgelike.”
“Mama’s influence,” she chuckled. “This used to be a much rougher area, but over the years, Mama’s kids have bought up the houses nearby. They were raised in Mama’s house, and they’re used to the aesthetic, and so that’s how they style their own homes. Not all of us can afford it, of course, and there’s a limited amount of space, but it’s a nice place to live from what I hear, and we’re all welcome at the neighborhood picnics Mama throws every week.”
We walked down the shiny, cheerful street, stopping when we arrived at an old but well cared for house. It was two stories, made of sturdy, worn wood that had been freshly painted, and a neatly weeded garden on either side of the well trod path.
Dayne looked hesitant to approach the worn out door, but after a few moments to pluck up her courage, she walked across the yard and knocked firmly.
There was a short pause, and then the door opened, and a waifish looking teenage boy with dark circles around his eyes and limp black hair stared out at us in suspicion. “Yeah?” He said hostilely. “What do you want?”
His glare was interrupted by widening eyes and a yelp of pain as a small hand reached around and grabbed him firmly by the ear, dragging him out of the way. “Daniel,” snapped the small red haired girl who had done the grabbing. “What did Mama say about answering the door with attitude?”
“Ow!” he said emphatically, rubbing his ear. When she didn’t comment, his shoulders slumped. “Sorry Holly,” he muttered.
She rolled her eyes. “It’s lunchtime, go set the table, then get the others in from the yard. Don’t forget to wash your hands this time, I WILL make you get up and do it during lunch. Sorry about him, can I help you?”
“I’m here to see Mama,” Dayna said quietly. “Can you tell her that D-”
“Dayna!” Screamed a relieved voice from behind the redheaded girl. The tall, dark haired woman with silver streaks in her hair dodged around Holly and swept the elf girl up into her arms, squeezing fiercely. “Little girl, what in Lord Verdyn’s name is wrong with you? Disappearing like that and I had to hear you were still alive from Anabelle.” She buried her face in Dayna’s hair, clearly relieved beyond words to see the girl again.
Dayna looked almost afraid to answer. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I just-”
The woman pushed her back to arms length, rolling her expressive blue eyes. “I don’t care that you got a new job, stupid girl, I care that you didn’t call to TELL me about it. I was worried sick when you vanished from that absurd trial. I told you it was a terrible idea, but no, no one ever listens to Mama.” Her eyes wandered to me. “Oh, hello. Welcome to my home, large armored man with an ominous mask.”
“It’s not ominous,” I protested. “My uncle made me this. And it’s my original. I had a way worse one.” I turned to look at myself in the mirror hanging beside the door, above a small wooden table covered in photos of various smiling children. “Do I look ominous?”
“The armor doesn’t help, dear,” she said with a wry smile. “Might I get your name, before we continue with the image consultation?”
I cleared my throat. “Ah, sorry. I’m Solomon. Nice to meet you. I’m a friend of Dayna’s.”
“Well the, nice to meet you Solomon,” she beamed. “Any friend of Dayna’s is welcome here. I’m afraid our girl doesn’t trust easily, and she’s an excellent judge of character. If she likes you enough not to correct you when you make a claim like that you must be a quality kind of person, and I always have room for more of those. Come on in.” She stepped back, gesturing us into the house.
I stepped inside, as did Dayna, and we closed the door behind us, clearing off our feet. “Mama, we were hoping to talk to you privately?” Dayna said politely. “It’s about Lodge business.”
The energetic woman nodded brusquely. “Of course, I might have guessed,” she shot me a conspiratorial wink. “These kids never visit their Mama just to say hi, always need something, bless their hearts.” Dayna looked like she wanted to be swallowed up by the floor, but Mama Bel continued. “Holly, dear, go help your brother with lunch. And set two more plates. Dayna and her friend will stay for sandwiches.”
There was no request there, and I wasn’t about to argue. I could smell what I was pretty sure was slow cooking roast beef in gravy, and it was making my mouth water. “Thank you,” Dayna said softly. “I don’t mean to be a bother.”
“You aren’t,” the woman said sternly. “Not ever, and you damn well know it. Lift your chin, girl, you’re going to get a crick in your neck looking at the floor like that. Then come into the living room and tell me about your problem.” She glanced at me. “Do you have a way of making sure we aren’t overheard, Mr. Solomon the mysterious masked man?”
“I do,” I nodded. “It’ll be an area effect, if that’s ok?” She nodded, and I followed them into the living room, taking a seat next to Dayna on the overstuffed green couch. I triggered Murmur, covering us all in a blanket of silence, and then nodded to Mama Bel.
She looked around, interested but not overly concerned. “Well done. Now, Dayna, why don’t you tell Mama what brings you home?” Dayna stared at her, eyes swimming with conflict and confusion, and then she opened her mouth and began to speak. I didn’t stop her, I trusted her to know what to share, all I could do was wait for her to finish explaining, and then…well, I supposed we would see.
Comments
Malcolm Tent
They're mostly under Murmur. Astaroth works on like...A-rankers, but if a god of the hunt actually bothers to look at him he's screwed anyway. Security through obscurity in this case, so he's trying to keep a low profile instead of wearing a disguise.
Kemizle
Shouldn’t Shane be in disguise still? Being recognized in a gods world is a sure fire way to end the story with his death
