Transliterated [Xenofiction Isekai]

The methods for dealing with someone following you varied depending on three factors: the urgency of the chase, the species of your pursuer, and whether or not you wanted to escape or confront them. In this case, the chase was not urgent, the creature following Hope did so at a distance. It was trying to be subtle. Like her, it wore a cloak for protection from the rain, though its silhouette beneath the garment was strangely uneven and difficult to identify at a glance. Its visible paws identified it as a mammal of some kind, but little else. It was similarly sized to Hope herself, though, meaning that she would want to confront it, find out what it knew and why it was following her, and then proceed from there.

Hope continued on her winding, semi-random path, not making any alterations to her choices that would tip off her shadow that she was aware of them. Eventually, she found a suitable location for the confrontation, a blind corner in a cramped alleyway that saw very little foot traffic. As soon as she broke line of sight, the lizard spun around and prepared to pounce the moment her pursuer rounded the corner. She saw the lumpy form of the animal shuffle in front of her and sprung forward to tackle it.

She immediately regretted her decision.

Rather than the soft body of the mammal she was expecting, Hope's ambush was met with something sharp. A lot of sharp somethings, in fact. Before she could even figure out what was happening, she had two barbed quills stuck between scales on her neck, one embedded rather deep in her shoulder, and a fourth jammed painfully into her snout beside her left nostril. And then her forelegs were swept out from under her and a set of manually sharpened claws were aimed at her left eye, a quill's-breadth from stabbing it.

"You," the porcupine hissed, "have much to answer for."

"Such as?" Hope hissed back, Understanding full well the threat being made. Painful as they were, the porcupine's quills and claws weren't likely to be able to kill her if she decided to fight back, especially now that she knew to avoid them. But from this position it could very easily gouge out her eye and run. Maiming and crippling her would almost be as bad as just killing her, given the circumstances.

"Jeopardizing my life's work, abducting my Apprentice, and defiling the sanctity of my Library without permission." Somehow, it was the last of those three that had the most anger behind it.

"You think I did any of that? Who are you?" Hope knew full well who this was, but she was quite good at playing dumb without expressing anything intentionally false. The College only had one Archivist at the moment, and it apparently took its job far more seriously than its reputation as a frivolous eccentric had led her to believe.

"The abduction of my Apprentice occurred only a few doors down from my Library," Archivist Sharp-Search growled. "The door muffles sound somewhat, but I recall the sound of your false leg quite clearly. It is unmistakable."

Fuck, Hope cursed silently. There was no point in bothering with plausible deniability when she'd been identified by her most distinguishing feature. "Apprentice Quiet-Dream is fine. He is safe, safer than he would be in the care of the Guardians." Some of the tension left the Archivist's body, but only some.

"And why are you so interested in the squirrel? Documents relating to it were stolen from the Library, only to be mysteriously returned days later. I realized why when the Guardians came to me complaining of copies circulating amongst the public and sparking rumors." The porcupine's beady eyes glinted in the darkness of the alleyway as it clenched its jaw, baring its incisors. "I have studied too much history not to Understand propaganda when I see it. The context betrays your intent, both in that, and in the painted messages."

"Why are you-" Hope's answer collapsed into a pained squeal as Sharp-Search jerked their paw to the side, jostling the quill stuck in her nose.

"Stop answering my questions with questions! I am familiar with that kind of rhetorical trickery as well. It is how I have kept the Guardians from looking too deep into what exactly you have been doing."

"...What?" It took several seconds for Hope's brain to catch up with what the Archivist had just said.

"I know exactly which records you stole and returned, there were far more than the few that were being distributed as copies. As the foremost, and currently only, Beacon Scholar in Darksoil, the less scrutiny the Guardians place upon my work, the better. I had assumed that you would prefer the same, and that you were looking into the connection between our otherworldly visitors and the Beacons through channels unavailable to me." Sharp-Search sighed and lowered its claws, taking a step back so that Hope could stand up.

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"You're a Beacon Scholar, and you've been covering for us…" Hope groaned as she struggled to her feet. The quill in her shoulder would have prevented her from running even if she wanted to, as moving that leg shot pain through her left side.

"I have been, yes." The porcupine's glare intensified. "And then you decided to deliberately send the Lead Guardian into a paranoid frenzy. So I want to know exactly what I have been made complicit in, and I want to see my Apprentice. Understand?"

"Perfectly." Hope slumped against the nearby wall, taking her weight off of her injured shoulder so she could catch her breath. This complicated matters, but it might just make up for what they had failed to accomplish earlier. She decided to take that risk. "Help me get these quills out and you have a deal."

"Good. Hold still and try to relax. This will be quite painful."

Apprentice Quiet-Dream was pacing back and forth in his basement prison-home when the trapdoor finally slid open and two creatures made their way down the stairs. One was Hope, who he had been waiting for, but the other was someone he was much happier to see.

"Sharp-Search!" The squirrel was barely able to keep himself from pouncing on the porcupine for a hug long enough for them to reach the bottom of the stairs.

"Ah, yes. The embraces. If only our separation had broken this strange habit of yours," the Archivist feigned annoyance, but clearly didn't mind being hugged much anymore.

"Why are you here? Were you captured while searching for me, too?"

"No, Inheritor Hope and I have simply…" Sharp-Search paused, picking up the implication of the question. "Was someone else captured while searching for you?"

"Yes," Quiet-Dream growled, letting go of his mentor and turning to glare at Hope. "Did you ever plan on informing me that you had Seeker Sunny-Plume tied up and shoved in one of the empty rooms down here, or do you think that you can win my trust if you hurt my friends and then hide the evidence?"

"Sunny-Plume?" Sharp-Search squeaked. "Pearl's mate?"

"It was going to be released as soon as we relocated the entrance to-"

"No, you're going to let them out right now if you want my cooperation," the squirrel stepped forward, not willing to hear any excuses.

"How did you even discover the bird was here?" Hope asked, exasperated and overwhelmed by the day's events.

"They managed to break the binding tying them to the wall, crawled across the floor, and began tapping on the door with their beak." The squirrel's anger only got more as he ran through these events in his mind. "It was quiet, but my hearing is more than good enough to hear it, and to hold a conversation through it. And of course the alligator you left to watch me wouldn't let them out, citing your orders!"

"Look, if you'll just let me explain–"

"That you're paranoid? That fighting this secret war in your head for who knows how many years has made it impossible for you to trust anyone? That you've bee–"

"THIS IS TOO IMPORTANT!" Hope screeched, shoving her snout in Quiet-Dream's face. She bared her teeth. The squirrel trembled but stood his ground. "Every outsider who knows anything about us is an opportunity for someone to make a mistake. One mistake could cost us everything!"

"Then why am I here?" Quiet-Dream shot back, hackles raised. "Kidnapping me has clearly only made things worse for your weird cult, and all you've done is try to guilt trip me and attack people when you think I won't notice!"

"You were perfectly fine waiting for answers before!"

"That was before I learned you were caging my friends and hiding it from me!"

"Fine!" Hope spun on her good hind leg, nearly hitting Quiet-Dream in the face with her tail. "You want to know why you're here?" She walked over to what seemed to just be an empty part of the room, favoring her right foreleg due to a recent injury, and began to scoop away a portion of the dirt floor with her claws. "You are here because there is a good chance that I am going to fail. I'll need you to finish what I've started."

Quiet-Dream began to chatter about how ridiculous that was, but a forceful thump from Hope's tail cut him off.

"It has to be one of us. It has to be a human. And out of the humans present in Darksoil, you were the one that I knew for certain properly recognized just how dangerous us being here is." Hope reached into the small hole she'd dug and pulled out a plain wooden box. Placing it in front of the two rodents, she opened it to reveal a book. Not a scroll or a packet of loose paper, but a properly bound book with a sturdy leather cover. Etched into the cover was a single phrase, written in plain English script.

"For the humans after me"

"I recognize this style of marking," Sharp-Search squeaked, their tone filled with equal parts wonder and fear as they gently traced the letters with a claw. "Ink-Talon insisted on using it. I could Understand it just fine then, but… I cannot Understand this. That should be impossible."

"That's because this was written in the Lost Lands, without the Gift of Understanding," Hope explained. "Without the Gift to record the intent, the meaning expressed by these words persists only through the language it was written in. Quiet-Dream and I can both read it, as can any of the other humans, provided they were literate and knew this language in their previous life."

"I will accept that answer without the assuredly complicated explanation that should accompany it," the porcupine sighed, "if only because I fear my Apprentice may do something drastic if I delay the answers it was seeking any longer. But you will explain it to me later."

Without saying a word, Quiet-Dream attempted to gently pull the book out of its container. It was almost as big as he was, so Sharp-Search needed to assist in getting it over to the nearby seating area.

He opened the book to find clean, practiced penmanship, but plenty of signs that it hadn't been written by human hands. The handful of (likely accidental) clawed footprints in the margins, made with the same ink as the text itself, were proof enough of that.

"My name is Lucas Goddard. If you are able to read this, then I'm sorry. I failed…"