“Believe it or or not, I know what you’re going through, Miss…?”

The professor, a grey wolf dressed in the navy blue vest and armored faulds of Magistrum regalia, sat down at a booth in a cafe just off the Magistrum City bazaar. Owned and operated by one of his fellow alumni, a sheepkin from the culinary program, it was a cozy place, one that could comfortably seat a few dozen people at the most. Among the staff and students of the Magistrum, it was known for its signature coffee blend, a particularly reinvigorating brew after long nights of study. At thirty minutes to noon, the morning rush had subsided. Between him, the employees, and the remaining customers, there could be no more than ten people in the shoppe.

Across from him, on the other side of the booth, was a lithe, athletic ratkin, fur the shade of ebony, whose height reached up to his chest when they were both standing up. The young rodent stood out intently, even among the varied and colorful garbs oft found in Magistrum City. She wore a jacket of a rough material resembling canvas, adorned with studs over the sleeves and shoulder pads. Underneath was a plain shirt, but the material was clearly synthetic, made by some form of machine.

Yet even if she was in plain garments, Professor Rabrandt ‘Enigma’ Cyanis was convinced this young lady would doubtlessly stand out, with a blue shock of hair forming into a thin strip tailing from forehead to neck, and odd jewelry affixed to her left eyebrow and nose. As they were talking, the mage could swear he had even seen another, similar adornment on her tongue. Between her unusual attire, and the way she had been gawking at the city, there was only one conclusion he could draw:

He had just met a newly sparked, fledgling planeswalker on their first adventure.

“It’s Noxie. Just Noxie. And I doubt it, gramps.”

While the wolfkin bristled at being called ‘gramps’, it didn’t take much for him to understand that this was as much a coping mechanism as anything else. Between the way she was fidgeting in her seat, and sneaking awkward glances at the other tables, Enigma surmised that the name calling was either a way to project confidence where none existed, or a means to establish control in a situation where she felt there was none. It was hardly a unique impulse, nor difficult to understand.

He pressed on, ignoring the comment as much as he was able. “If I were to guess, I would say that you were some combination of mad, scared, or desperate.” The young woman’s fidgeting began to slow, violet eyes suddenly more focused and alert, subtly leaning forward in her seat. “And just as you were fit to burst, you found yourself hurled away into the infinite abyss, only to end up careening into the jewelry stand I found you buried under.”

“Nice try, Pops. But I was about to take on the best paying job I’d ever gotten. Enough cash that I could’ve bought all the shiny, fake shit that peddler was selling.” A confident smirk crossed her features while she leaned back into the weirdly comfortable headboard of her booth.

“So you thought about the worth of those gems and pendants, at least?” Leaning in, he massaged the bottom of his snout with the knuckles on the back of his paw. 

“I told you that I wasn’t stealing anything! If you don’t believe me, you better show me some proof I stole something!” Enigma took note as she puffed her chest forward, arms crossed in front, each of her hands was gripping tightly onto her elbows as if to support them. Like a typical teenager, he imagined that she was trying to project an image of toughness that she could not back up if challenged.

f implies there’s room for doubt. I know you aren’t lying so I don’t have to ‘believe’ anything. I don’t normally pay for snacks before sending someone into rehabilitation.” When the ratkin opened her mouth to counter, the detective silenced her simply by raising one hand. “My interests have nothing to do with the jewelry stand, and everything to do with how you ended up here in the first place.”

Once more, she tried to deflect. “I don’t even know where ‘here’ is!”

Letting out a deep sigh, the wolf realized his tactics weren’t working. He had hoped to break it to her more gently, but if he delayed any longer there was a real chance he would miss his opportunity. “We are in another plane of existence separate from the one you were born and raised. You are on another world, entirely distinct from the one you call home. This is Magistrum City, on the plane of Crossroads.”

Contrary to his worst expectations, upon hearing this the young woman sat silently. Even without his magic, he could practically see, in the glimmer of her eyes, the threads start to knit themselves together in her mind.  “Wait. Wait. Wait, Old Man! Are you saying that multiverse theory is real!? Bullshit. You're making all of this as you go along, aren’t you!?”

A breath Enigma did not realize he was holding expelled itself from his lips as he began to visibly let go of the tension within his shoulders. “By the blind! You come from a culture that already knows about the multiverse! You don’t understand how much simpler that makes things.”

It was then that the server came with the order Enigma had placed when they arrived. Two cups of hot coffee, decaffeinated for him and caffeinated for her, with cream and sugar placed on the side. Knowing that most outsiders freaked out when they heard where many ingredients were sourced, Enigma neglected to inform his conversation partner that the milk came from domesticated catoblepases, strange hybrids of buffalo, hippopotamuses, and warthogs whose skulls are eternally pointed downward, and the sugar harvested from sanguine, blood-sucking beets. Alongside their drinks was an assortment of the confections on offer, in a convenient take-home box.

With a deft hand, the mage added a dash of cream and a single spoon of sugar to his brew. To the ratkin’s credit, she took a sip of her own cup black before deciding how much she was going to add to hers. That said, the sheer amount of sugar she was shoveling in by the spoonful made it clear she was more interested in a coffee-flavored milkshake than a cup of coffee, but it served its intended purpose of making her more comfortable. Much like he did earlier, Enigma began to notice her shoulders ease up in turn. He realized that his own discomfort and tension was contributing to her own.

More relaxed than she was just a moment ago, the outsider leaned forward, asking a question between bites of the muffin she had picked out from the box.  Sweet orange berries native to the plane, embedded in the midday treat, burst with citrusy flavor in her mouth. “So… *munch* *swallow* …how’d I get here anyway?”

A brief pause in the conversation was allowed to linger as the wolfkin finished swallowing the sip of coffee in his muzzle. Once it had fully gone down, he answered her inquiry. “By your own power. You and I have that in common. We are known as ‘planeswalkers’, and we were born with the ability to cross into other planes of existence. It was dormant inside you, but that ball of emotions you felt activated it.”

With the muffin close to halfway gone, her pace began to slow down. Enigma suspected the coffee might have been fully consumed by this point if it weren’t too hot to gulp down. His muzzle curled into a slight, understated smile, happy that she had taken so well to the local cuisine.

“Hold up. If I got here on my own, are you saying that I can get back by myself? I don’t need you or anyone else?”

With a nod of his head, he answered. “Yes, of course. There’s an imprint of your home lodged in your soul. You should be able to follow it back to where you came from once you’re ready.”

“I’m ready now. What do you mean, Old Man? All I want to do is get back before you bore me to death.” The cup approached her lips and she poured more of the energizing liquid down her own throat. 

“Planeswalking, especially for the first time, is a draining experience. Right now, you’re propped up on a mix of adrenaline, caffeine, and sugar.” Slowly, deliberately, he bit gently into one of the pastries, a donut filled with an odd green jam. “I give it another hour or two before you crash, and crash hard. You’ll need time to recover, but once you do I’ll be happy to guide you through your return trip.”

“If this is really another world and not some weird ren faire, then I don’t have a place to stay.” As if on queue, she could start to feel something close to fatigue setting in. Thankfully, the chemical cocktail of sugary coffee pumping through her system gave her enough energy to steady herself.

“I am unsure what a ‘ren faire’ is, but you’re lucky that you landed here. Though new planeswalkers arriving is hardly common occurrence, it happens just often enough that we’ve a few spare rooms reserved in the inn for them. When we’re done here, I’ll walk you there to get you situated before heading home myself.”

“Awfully generous, aren’t you?” 

The two of them locked eyes for a brief moment before Enigma let out a chuckle. “I can see why you’d think that, but this is standard protocol for ‘new arrivals’. Giving them a quick meal and letting them sleep it off in a safe room is a lot cheaper than paying for the inevitable property damage as far as the Committee of Domestic Affairs is concerned.”

“Wait, you’re not paying for this?” She waved her hands at the sweets and the coffee in front of her.

“I’ll be fully reimbursed for all of this. Nothing we ate today is coming out of my pocket, nor is your room for the night.” There was a hint of pride, both in his voice and his posture. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have my own reasons for taking time out of my day off to do this.”

“Really? Why? Can’t imagine what?” She was close to the bottom of her cup, and the server brought her a cup of ice cold water out of instinct more than anything else, which she was more than happy to guzzle down.

“Well, I’ve been to many planes in my time as a planeswalker, and I don’t recognize your style of dress or the strange jewelry that adorns your face. That means you come from a place I’ve never been, and I couldn’t possibly resist the chance to see a new place with my own eyes.” Back where she came from, the words coming out of the wolfkin’s muzzle would have gotten bemused glances, but even she couldn’t help but accept his curious sincerity.

“You want to follow me… because of my piercings?” It was phrased like a question, but really she was thinking out loud more than asking.

It elicited a chuckle from the wolfkin. “Something like that. I know of cultures who use ‘piercings’ in all sorts of fashion and ceremonies, but never quite like the ones you have. Nor do I recognize the make of your clothing. It speaks about the place you call home in ways that draw my attention.” She could feel her eyes start to get heavy. “But I see you are at your limit. We should get you to your room before you burn out.”

“No way. I don’t got that kind of time, Wolfie. I need to- to…” Her fight with fatigue was valiant, but it was becoming a losing battle. “I need to get home.”

“I promise you this, Miss Noxie. By this time tomorrow, you’ll be back home safe and sound.” He spoke as if making a sacred vow, lending the young ratkin woman his shoulder as they made their way out.

The first thing that greeted Noxie when she awoke from her slumber was the feeling of disorientation, as the sunlight blanketed her body like the woolen quilt draped over her. A panic began to set in and she shot herself upright: This was not her room. This was the kind of place more fitting for the old books her mother used to read to her than for her sleeper quarters. Walls of stone contrasted with tidy redwood flooring and matching desk. The chair in front of the desk seemed almost anachronistic by comparison, clearly designed to swivel around in much the same way the seat in her parents’ office did. She took count of a few strange devices, one resembling a projector embedded in the ceiling, and a few on the desk that she couldn’t discern from sight alone, with neither the time nor the patience to figure them out.

Having been shocked fully awake by the burst of adrenaline, she began to trace back through her memory, recalling the events that brought her here. True to his word, that bizarre-looking wolf took her straight here, without taking a single detour. Things got fuzzy after that, but she remembered being led up to her room, and almost immediately passing out on the bed as soon as her face made contact with the pillow. 

With no memory of putting on the blanket, she figured that Old Man must’ve done it for her before leaving. It was a courteous move on his part, suspiciously so for the streetwise rodent. After she took a few moments to gather her thoughts, using a nearby mirror to fix her mohawk as best she could with her paws alone, giving her a confident wink.

That’s when she heard a firm knock on her door. Tap Tap Tap. And without pausing, a familiar, albeit muffled voice came from the other side.

“Noxie? It’s me. Is it safe to come in?”

A flare of annoyance crossed her mind, wondering what Old Man could want from her so early. It was almost enough for her to snap, but then she thought better of it. He hadn’t really done anything to earn an impromptu scolding, unlike many of the other Old Men in her life. Choking that impulse down, she tried to greet him warmly, though unfortunately she only had the energy for something closer to ‘neutral’.

“Yeah. I’m not going to bite ya, Old Man.” She could hear the exasperation in his voice, and a pang of guilt passed through her as she did. 

“That wasn’t what I- Nevermind, I’m coming in.”  To her surprise, he ditched the vest he was wearing yesterday, opting for a loose-fitting, plain white shirt held in place by a pair of golden, runic armbands across the forearms and a belt across his waist with a pouch affixed to it, accompanied by the world’s most nondescript pair of brown pants. Were it not for the bright runic patterns of his tattoo and armbands, she might have said he was disturbingly ordinary.

Closing the door behind himself, he continued. “One thing though, I’m not even that far into my thirties. ‘Old Man’ is a bit of a stretch. Please, call me ‘Enigma’.”

She laughed louder than she had intended to, amused at the boring old man giving himself a name like that. “There’s no fucking way your name is ‘Enigma’.”

The tall wolf cocked his head to the side ever so slightly, cocking the brow of his eye. “And ‘Noxie’ is the name you were given at birth?” Though she recoiled at the bluntness of his retort, he kept talking. Either he didn’t notice or he didn’t care. “Besides, something tells me ‘Rabrandt Cyanis’ is a bit of a mouthful for you.”

She nodded in agreement. “Fine. ‘Enigma’ it is. Now, you were saying that you could get me home.”

He shook his head. “No, Noxie. You are going to get you home. I am simply going to teach you how.”

The rodent girl scoffed. “I don’t have a spaceship or a ‘plane’ship or anything like that.”

“What’s a Planesh- No. You’re a planeswalker! You’re going to planeswalk!” He spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, massaging one of his temples in exasperation. “By the blinds, this is going to take more explanation that I assumed.”

“You make it sound like I can do magic, ‘Enigma’. I can’t.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Well… You might not believe it, but you can. Planeswalkers like us are uniquely adept at magic, more so than ordinary wizards. And as much as I would like to help you learn and harness whatever magic you have access to, it’s not relevant to today’s planeswalking lesson.” He sat at the foot of the bed, and motioned for her to join him. “Now, let’s get started. I’m sure you’re as eager to get home as I am to see where you come from.”

Despite every synapse in her mind telling her this was an incredibly stupid and pointless idea, she acquiesced.

When she did, the canine began to guide her. “Follow my lead. First, we’ll start small. Form a circle with your hands like this.” He touched his thumbs together, slowly wrapped the rest of his fingers around until they formed a closed loop, somewhere between the claimed ‘circle’ and a diamond, and nodded for her to follow. Though still unsure if this would do anything, she listened to him, imitating the motion. “Good, now I want you to think of a place back home. A place you find comfortable. A place where you will always feel safe and secure.”

That was easy. She thought back to her room, still on the second floor of her parents’ place. She thought of how her mother always doted on “little Sadie”, her only child, teaching her everything she’d need to care for herself in the mean streets of Machresse. It would have been embarrassing to talk about it out loud, but as she looked down at her hands she realized she didn’t have to.

Her room was right there in front of her, behind the window conjured into her hands with a sharper image than she’d even gotten from one of her monitors. The small twin sized bed that she could never outgrow despite her best wishes. Her workbench, parts scattered on top, with her laptop stowed safely in a cupboard underneath. The pink carpet she never quite had the heart to replace despite the oil stains. Everything was right there, clear as day.

“Holy shit!”, she couldn’t help but exclaim. “That’s it.”

Her new teacher nodded, “This is the first step. With our power, people like us can scry into places we’re familiar with, to observe without crossing over into their space. And now that you know what it feels like to do it purposefully, we can go one step further.”

“Home?” Noxie couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice even if she wanted to.

The mage nodded again, “Yes. Home. Think of this space once more, and this time envision yourself there, in person. You could be sitting at the desk, laying in your bed, or simply standing on the carpet.” He pointed to the objects as he mentioned them. “Follow that feeling, and let it take you where you want to go.”

As if some block had cleared itself from her mind and body, it was suddenly trivial for the young rodent to pierce the veil, vanishing from the room in a trail of lustrous silver. No words existed to describe the space she occupied for the briefest of moments before she was deposited, face first, on the floor of her bedroom. Picking herself up off the carpet, she would be feeling that for a while, but she was back home and alive. Not long after, the strange ‘Enigma’ who guided her home appeared, looking no worse for wear as he landed on his feet.

“No fair. How come you didn’t fumble in like I did!?” She poked him gently, with exasperated, yet good-natured annoyance.

In response, the mage let out a chuckle. “I’ve been at this for over a decade, young lady. It’s just practice.”

“Okay, you can’t get mad at me for calling you an old man, and then call me a ‘young lady’. What’s with the double standard?” The annoyance in her voice was purely in jest, despite the words and the way her hands were placed on her hips.

This time, a genuine laugh from the wolf. “Fair enough.”

---

One of my resolutions for this year has been to really focus on my writing. To that end, I allocate at least three hours a week solely to writing. Azure Lightning was one product of this new process, and this is the first part of the next product, the start of a new storyline for Enigma: A new mystery.

I had several ideas floating in my head for what I wanted to do, but ultimately I was so enamored with the sci-fi, cyberpunk concept that I had to build onto it. Doubly so since it would give me an opportunity to show Enigma as more of a fish out of water.

I must also thank the people who donated a portion of their time to reading through this piece and offering their valuable feedback.  Bardoholic,  RhythmBastard, and  CyberLightning, as well my friend Keli who no longer uses social media.

And of course, thanks to  LittleBadWolf for the incredible art that goes with this story.

Enjoy the first part of... The Case of the Rotten Foundation.

Please fav the original piece here: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/64085489/

Art by  LittleBadWolf
Enigma, Noxie, and story belong to me.