Chapter Text
“Hey, Agnes, are you busy?”
Angus blinks, looking up from the spellbooks he’s studying to meet Taako’s eyes. “Not at the moment, sir? Is there something you need?”
“Well, in a manner of speaking, yes,” Taako says, shifting and looking around like he has something to hide— they’re in the library right now, which is barely inhabited even when it’s not approaching night time, which Angus supposes might be why Taako decided to approach him now. “Now, as reluctant as I am to admit this— and keep this on the down-low, no spreading this around— but… I… might need your help with something.”
Angus sits up. “What is it, sir? Another mystery? I haven’t figured out the last one, but—”
“Hey, keep your voice down, this is a library!” Taako hisses. “And yes, it’s kind of a mystery, though I have one particular thing in mind— are you busy tonight? I want you to stake out my room.”
Angus blinks. “What? How come?”
“I’m pretty sure someone’s been breaking into my room and leaving spooky messages to mess with me,” Taako says. “I’ve tried to stay up and catch them myself, but it never happens when I’m awake— I need another set of eyes.”
“Okay, not to say I can’t do it,” Angus says, starting to pack up his books, “But, um— why can’t you just ask Magnus or Merle?”
“Pff, those clowns?” Taako waves that idea away. “I trust those guys about as far as they can throw me.”
“I...” Angus pauses. “...Couldn’t they— at least Magnus could throw you pretty far? Don’t you mean as far as you can throw them?”
“I know what I said, kiddo,” Taako says.
Taako gives Angus an hour to get ready for the stake out, then meets him in front of the elevator to the Reclaimers’ suite. Taako complains about Angus making him wait— despite both of them being there fifteen minutes early and, in fact, getting there at the exact same time— and then he gives a short briefing on the situation before vanishing into his room to get ready for bed.
Which leads to the current situation: Angus McDonald, boy detective, pouring over his notes on all the little mysteries that he’s solved in his time on the moon— what happened to Avi’s new case of brandy, (Carey took it,) what the source of those weird thumping noises in the dead of night in the library, (Carey practicing her flips,) who’s been leaving duck-butts carved into all the doorframes (Carey again)— as he stakes out Taako’s room. It’s nearly midnight, and Angus is struggling not to nod off into his book. He tries to keep focused by entertaining thoughts of who the culprit might be— leading theories are that it’s either Carey up to some shit yet again, a wizard with a grudge, or whatever caused the Umbra Staff to destroy his macarons.
Which is another thing— the one thing that’s been bothering him for more than a week now, the only mystery he’s found here and not solved, the Umbra Staff. This… well, if it’s continuing to act on its own, it could possibly be directly asked just what that message it left is supposed to mean— but he’s not totally certain yet, so he just holds that thought for now.
He’s just starting to consider the idea of leaving his post for just a minute to grab some coffee when the faint smell of smoke reaches his nose. Distracted as he is, it takes Angus a moment to place where the faint grey wisps around the doorframe are coming from. As soon as he does, though, he jolts awake and scrambles to reach the doorknob. He barely remembers to be stealthy, cracking open the door just barely enough to see in, but not to be seen himself.
The first thing that comes to mind is that Angus is impressed Taako can sleep through all the smoke filling his room. The second is that he’s impressed the whole room hasn’t caught ablaze a dozen times already.
The third, however, is that well, it’s probably not Carey this time. It’s the Umbra Staff, propped half-open on the floor by Taako’s bed, slowly shifting in angle to write something on the wall— Angus can’t quite make it out through all the smoke— using the same spell it used the last time, Scorching Blast? Ray? Something like that.
Angus holds his breath, half to avoid breathing in the smoke and half from simple suspense, as the umbrella painstakingly writes out its message. It pauses, just once, seemingly going limp for a moment like it’s finished before jolting and sending a breeze to chase away the smoke before continuing its message. It’s only once the wall is totally covered in charred letters that it finally drops back to the floor, inert once more, and Angus breathes.
Silently, he pulls the door open and pads across the floor, stepping nervously over the umbrella and leaning slightly on the bed in an attempt to make out the words. It might be the darkness of the room, or the few remaining dregs of smoke in the air, or just Angus’s exhaustion creeping up on him again— but somehow, no matter how much he squints or rubs at his eyes, Angus can’t seem to focus right on the words. His eyes just sting, and start to water up, and with a final frustrated sigh he turns to leave again.
And promptly trips over the umbrella.
In that moment, Angus is glad Taako is such a heavy sleeper, as it means no one there can hear the thoroughly undignified squawk as the world’s greatest detective slips and falls on his face. The umbrella makes an odd shifting noise almost like a snicker, but Angus is too preoccupied with peeling his face off the carpet to bother paying attention.
He gives the umbrella a teary glare, rubbing at the bridge of his nose where his glasses have left a brand new indent. He pulls himself to his feet with a huff, stumbles over, and leans down to pick the umbrella up by the handle. He just wants to move it, leave it somewhere where it won’t be a tripping hazard—
But a jolt goes through his hand, and there’s an odd feeling. Like he’s being judged, and found unworthy. Then there’s a feeling like someone firmly shoving him away, making him take a step back, and the umbrella jolts in his hand and throws itself away. It twists in the air and lands neatly against the bed, the handle poised perfectly for Taako to take whenever he wakes up.
Angus just rubs at his eyes and fights back a yawn. Fine. That works too.
He’s not sure just how or when he’d dozed off, but Angus McDonald wakes up the next morning in Taako’s room with a crick in his neck and the sun shining directly into his eyes.
The umbrella is still where it left itself last night, leaned against Taako’s bed, and Taako is still dead to the world under quite a few more layers of blankets than Angus thinks are probably necessary. The message on the wall is still there, no longer full of smouldering embers, and Angus finds that he’d fallen asleep sitting against the opposite wall with his notebook in his lap open to a blank page.
Freshly awake in the morning light, Angus is frustrated to find he still can’t focus right on the letters. He initially assumes his glasses had slipped off in the night, which leads to minute spent fruitlessly searching for them before he realizes they’d been on his face the entire time, and he’s back at square one.
His second though comes when he remembers other writing he couldn’t quite focus on. In his investigations of the Bureau, before he’d known anything about it or the Voidfish, he’d tried to read a missing person’s report. He couldn’t read it, but he could make out individual words and letters.
With that thought in mind, Angus lifts a hand to cover everything but the first letter. R. The message starts with the letter R.
He writes that down, and moves his hand to reveal the next letter, and the next. E, M, E, M, B, E, R.
He pauses before moving onto the next word, reading what he wrote. “Remember,” he murmurs out loud, chewing idly at the inside of his cheek. Remember? What does that mean? Did Taako forget something, or…?
A clatter draws Angus’s attention back up to the bed, where the umbrella has fallen to the floor. Taako is starting to stir, and momentarily forgetting what he’d been doing Angus hops to his feet and races over.
“Good morning, sir!” he says, leaning over Taako’s face with a wide grin. “Are you finally awake? I know who’s been writing on your walls now!”
Taako’s face screw up, a wordless grumble escaping him before his eyes open just a crack. “Ango? Wha…? Why’re you…?”
“You asked me to stake out your room, remember?” Angus frowns. “Because someone’s been burning weird messages in your walls?”
Taako blinks slowly, extracting a hand to rub at his eye’s and then he sits up to look at the wall. “...Oh, right, that. D’jou catch ‘em, little man?”
“...Kinda?” Angus shrugs.
“You either caught ‘em or ya didn’t, kiddo,” Taako says, pushing the blankets aside to fling his legs over the edge of the bed. “Did you see who’s been sneaking into my room or not?”
Angus makes an uncertain noise. “Well, they’ve not exactly had to sneak in…”
“Ango, the only person who’s been consistently in my room every time the messages have appeared has been me.” Taako levels a dry stare. “You’re not gonna say I’ve been sleep-creepin’, are you?”
“Sleep-creeping— I-I mean, no, sir, that’s not it.” Angus shakes his head quickly. “I’m, uh, saying it was your umbrella. The Umbra Staff. Whatever.”
Taako blinks. “It was my umbrella.”
“Yes, sir. I’m, uh, actually a little surprised you couldn’t put it together yourself?” Angus grins nervously. “I-I mean, I kinda suspected it a little, just when you told me the messages were burned in, because it burned those letters into the cafeteria wall...”
Taako just groans and flops back onto his back. “Yeah, that’s just great. Now my items are haunted and want to creep on me? Typical.”
Angus gives an awkward chuckle, then clears his throat. “So, um, I don’t suppose you can read what it says?”
“Hm?” Taako’s ears flicker slightly, and he tilts his head to look up at the wall. He squints, turns to look at it right-side-up, then shakes his head. “Nah, ‘s all smudgey. Same with the other ones, ‘cept for yesterday’s. That one just said ‘it's me’ over and over and over.”
“I see.” Angus frowns, then lifts up his notes to scribble that down in the margins.
In the corner of his vision, Angus sees Taako shifting and standing from the bed. “Well, guess I hafta burn another spell slot on this,” Taako grumbles, going to pick up the umbrella, before Angus stops him with a hand on his arm.
“Wait, sir,” Angus says, and Taako gives him a confused look. “Could you give me a few minutes to write this down? It could be very important evidence.”
“I thought you couldn’t read it either, kiddo?”
“Not in its entirety,” Angus admits, shrugging, “But it seems a lot like how the Voidfish hides written information. I can make out individual words and letters, but I can’t make the connection between them.”
Taako blinks slowly, staring at Angus in silence for a long moment before finally he shrugs and looks away. “Well, if it works for you. I’m gonna go shower, but if you ain't done when I’m back that writing is gonna be gone.”
“Don’t worry, sir, I’ll be quick!” Angus says, quickly making sure he’s on the right page and crouching down to rest the notebook on his lap. He lifts a hand to cover the message again, totally focused as Taako steps outside. The first word is remember, right, then there’s a G…
All in all, here’s what Angus has gathered from the message: the first word is Remember, followed by two words that slip from his mind whenever he tries to do anything but spell them out, followed by a question mark. Then there’s most of a phrase, That motherfucker still owes me, followed by a number Angus can’t remember and a word he’s sure even if he could read it he wouldn’t recognize it. Then there’s a long string of curses further bemoaning the person in question and eventually ending in a wavering line mid-letter where— as far as Angus can tell— the Umbra Staff simply ran out of energy to keep casting Scorching Ray.
All in all, it’s not as much as Angus had been hoping for. It had probably been vain to hope for some kind of total explanation of why the Umbra Staff is doing this, but he still finds a way to be disappointed.
On the other hand, it does establish two things. Firstly, whatever— Or whoever, I suppose— is causing this is a person. Just going off what he can tell of this message, and the one Taako could read before, it must have been someone the wizard had known and somehow forgotten.
Secondly, it says he really shouldn’t let them form a grudge against him.
It’s with this thought in mind that Angus decides not to involve Taako in his investigations. Despite now being thoroughly aware of his umbrella’s pyromaniac tendencies, Taako still continues to carry it with him everywhere, (“It’s a good staff, Agnes,” he’d said as he cleaned up the message,) and Angus doesn’t want the umbrella to attack him if it decides he’s a threat.
So, with that in mind, Angus sets out to investigate.
His first stop is the Artificer’s Office, to see what Leon knows about the Umbra staff. It’s the obvious choice, that book has entries on every magical item Angus has seen yet, so it’s sure to have some kind of clue to this mystery.
Leon is willing to help, though he twitches silently at Taako’s name. “What do you want to know that for?” he asks, flipping diligently through the pages in between glances at Angus. “Couldn’t you just ask him yourself?”
“I could, sir, but he’d probably either brush me off or not remember all the details,” Angus replies, bouncing on his heels in an attempt to see over the edge of the desk. “I figured I should cut out the middleman and come straight to you.”
“I suppose that makes sense.” Leon pauses, flips back a few pages, then tilts the book up. “Ah, here we go. Umbra Staff. Should I read it for you, or do you want to?”
“I’d like to read it, please,” Angus says, and Leon dutifully turns it around. Powerful order of wizards… disguised as an ordinary item… consumes magic of defeated foes… dammit, this isn’t helpful.
Angus frowns. “Mr. Leon?”
Leon blinks. “Yes?”
“Do you know if there’s any known cases of Umbra Staves gaining will and a mind of their own?” Angus asks, looking up with wide, curious eyes.
“Well, Umbra Staves are incredibly rare, so I haven’t really had the chance to observe them,” Leon says, crossing his arms. “Why do you ask?”
“What about other magical items?” Angus presses. “Is there any way for an item that’s supposed to be inanimate to gain a will of its own and act outside the will of its owner?”
“Kid, you didn’t answer my question.”
“Just answer mine first, please.”
Leon gives Angus a long, dubious look, then sighs. “There are a few ways I can think of,” he says, glancing around. “It could be controlled by someone else remotely, it could have been created with an artificial mind built into it, it could have a spirit bound to it— any number of possibilities. Why do you ask?”
Angus frowns, internally weighing the pros and cons, and then he leans in conspiratorially. “Don’t tell anyone about this, but Taako’s Umbra Staff has been doing things on its own. It’s been writing weird encoded messages on his wall—” Probably better not to mention they’re behaving like the Voidfish ate them— “—and based on the messages I’ve managed to decode they seem to be written by someone he used to know.”
Leon frowns. “That sounds like a security risk. Have you told the Director?”
“I’m planning to, just as soon as I know what’s going on.” Angus leans back. “And I’m the world’s greatest detective, I know I can work this out on my own.”
“Well, if you’re sure,” Leon says, giving Angus an uncertain look. “But if you haven’t worked this out by next week I’m telling her myself.”
“Please, sir, I’ll have it in half that.” Angus squares his shoulders. “Now, do you know of anything that matches the description I gave you?”
“I’m no detective, but from what you said I’d guess the Umbra Staff doesn’t have a mind of its own,” Leon muses. “More than likely it’s one of the other two options I mentioned, either someone controlling it remotely or some sort of undead spirit is bound to it. Does that help any?”
Angus hums. “I dunno, that hardly narrows it down, though...” He pauses, then looks up. “...Undead, you say?”
Leon blinks. “Yes?”
Angus doesn’t reply, too busy thinking it over. The undead are immune to the effects of the Voidfish, he thinks, chewing on his bottom lip in thought, and nearly everything Taako’s umbrella has written has been either impossible to read— as if the Voidfish ate it— or too vague to mean much… the Umbra Staff could be possessed by the spirit of someone Taako forgot— there could be a second Voidfish—
With those thoughts in mind, Angus leaps into action. “Sorry, sir, excuse me, I gotta go!” he says, sprinting to the door. “Thanks for the help! Don’t tell anyone!”
“Wait!” Leon calls after him, but Angus is already out in the hall and running for the library— though he slows a little after a moment, shifting gears to a brisk trot, not wanting to seem like he’s in too much of a rush.
Once in the library, Angus makes a beeline for the section on magical creatures and pulls out every book that looks like it’ll have anything to say on undead. Within minutes he’s commandeered a table and surrounded himself with a veritable mountain range of books, and he’s quick to bury his nose in the first one and start reading up on ghosts.
By the time he’s gotten halfway through the books, his eyelids are heavy and he’s read this paragraph on zombies three times and still can’t tell what it says. He’s just starting to nod off when a hand on his shoulder jolts him awake, and he looks up to see Taako looking at him.
“What are you doing out here so late, little man?” Taako asks.
Angus blinks slowly, then turns his head to squint vaguely at the clock. Sure enough, it’s nearly 11 PM, well after Angus is supposed to go to bed, and even Taako looks a little worn. “Oh,” Angus says, “I didn’t notice it was getting late. I was busy researching ghosts.”
Taako blinks. “Ghosts, you say? What for?”
“I figured—” Angus starts, then his eyes catch on the umbrella hanging from the crook of Taako’s elbow, and he pauses. “...I was just a little curious about how Noelle might have been brought back, and she couldn’t really give me any answers, so I went to the books.”
“Don’t tell me you’re thinking of going into necromancy,” Taako jokes, picking up one of the already-read books and opening it to a random page. “We had to cheat to get Death off our own heads, and I dunno if we could do that for you too.”
“Don’t worry, sir, I was just curious.” Angus starts gathering the books back up, which Taako watches with a raised eyebrow.
“That’s a lotta books for ‘just curious’.”
Angus freezes, then shrugs sharply and tries to keep moving. “I just like to read, that’s all.”
Taako hums, obviously unconvinced, but he lets it slide. After a moment, he lifts the Umbra Staff and swishes it through the air, directing the remaining books to file along to Angus so he can put them in their proper places. “Wow, Ango, you’re pretty good at this sorting thing,” Taako comments once they’re nearly done. “If that whole detective thing falls through, I bet you could nail a great job as a librarian.”
“I doubt that’ll happen, sir, but thanks.” Angus keeps the book he’d been reading, a large tome on all manner of undead creatures, hugging it close to his chest as he follows Taako outside.
Once in the open air, Taako pauses and looks at Angus. “So hey, kiddo, you wanna spend the night at my place? Me and the boys were gonna do some Fantasy Monopoly, try an’ see if this thing—” He waves the arm with the Umbra Staff hanging from it. “—Will lay off on me if I got other people around.”
“Okay, but— are you sure you should be starting board games?” Angus asks, falling into step a foot behind Taako. “I mean, no offense, sir, but it’s late, and you do look pretty tired.”
“Tired schmired, Taako’s fine,” Taako says, gesturing vaguely. “Let’s just hurry, before Magnus eats all the pieces.”
The game lasts nearly until one in the morning, ending not when it’s meant to end but when everyone dozes off on their own. Angus is the banker, and he’s fairly certain Magnus was sneaking extra money whenever he started to nod off, right before prodding him back awake. It also doesn’t help that Angus has his nose stuck in his book for most of the game, what little focus he can spare concentrated on reading the words on the page, which the Reclaimers are all too happy to take advantage of.
They’re asleep now, though, piled up on top of each other with discarded piles of Fantasy Monopoly money and knocked over hotels surrounding them, and Angus is struggling not to join them in favour of getting just a little further through the book. Liches are one of (if not the) most powerful kinds of undead. They typically survive off of their own strong emotions, though in case of emergencies a Lich can bind their soul to an object, turning said object into a phylactery. The Lich can then retreat into the phylactery, existing in a dormant state in which very little magical energy is required to sustain…
Angus blinks, and realizes it’s dark in the room now. There’s a trail of dried drool going down his chin, which he wipes off, and as he squints around through the darkness he realizes everyone is still in the same positions they’d been in before— But who turned the light off, then?
As if in answer, something shifts in the corner of his vision, drawing his gaze just in time to catch the Umbra Staff slumping to the floor. Angus stares for a moment, eyes wide, and then he frowns.
“Why do you keep doing these things?” Angus asks. “What do you know that we don’t?”
The Umbra Staff doesn’t answer.
Angus sighs, shoulders slumping, and he searches through his pockets to pull out his wand. It takes him a few tries to get the cantrip right— his tongue trips over the end, or he draws the vowels out a little too long— but finally a warm light flickers into being around the end of his wand.
He winces in the sudden light, instinctively shielding his eyes and nearly dropping the wand. Taako stirs a little and groans, and in a panic Angus stuffs the wand up his own shirt to dim the light. After a moment, Taako settles back down, and with a relieved sigh Angus takes the wand back out.
“Come on, sir, let’s get you to bed,” he mutters, slinging one of Taako’s arms over his shoulder and lifting. He staggers a little under the weight, but steadily manages to drag Taako across the room and deposit him in bed. He pulls the blanket up to Taako’s chin, positions a pillow neatly under his head, and steps back to admire his work.
Then he turns to consider the other two people still asleep on the floor. There’s not nearly enough room on the bed, he muses, and I’m not strong enough to drag them all the way to their rooms. I could wake them up, or…
Angus turns and trots out of the room, returning a minute later with a collection of pillows and blankets. He pulls a blanket over Magnus and Merle each, tucks pillows under their heads, and finally drops himself to sit at the base of Taako’s bed.
Lit-up wand in hand, he finds his place in the book again and resumes reading. The Lich can then retreat into the phylactery, existing in a dormant state in which very little magical energy is required to sustain their unlife.
Angus blinks slowly, fighting to keep his eyes focused. Theoretically, any object could be turned into a phylactery, including powerful magical artifacts. Identifying a dormant Lich within their phylactery can be difficult, in part due to the hidden nature of this magic and in part due to the fact that the Lich retains some measure of awareness of their surroundings— along with, in the case of phylacteries made from magical items, the ability to dispose of anyone who discovers their nature.
The Light spell starts to flicker out around Angus’s wand. Some magical artifacts previously believed to have been made with Divination magic in them, such as magic mirrors, have instead turned out to be phylacteries containing dormant Liches. Such disguises are easily revealed with merely the spell ‘Detect Magic,’ as Necromancy is clearly different from Divination magic, but even without that a clear indicator is the level of independence exhibited by the item; a true artificial intelligence is nearly impossible to create, a spirit bound against their will wouldn’t be given much freedom, but a Lich can act as it wishes with or without the consent of its ‘owner.’
His wand goes out, the book slips from his hands, and Angus is asleep in moments with his head resting on the wall behind him. A moment passes, then another, and then the Umbra Staff moves, and one of the blankets Angus brought in starts to float through the air. It hovers across the room, faltering ever-so-slightly in its path before finally dropping from the air to drape over Angus’s lap.
The Umbra Staff moves, opening and closing to scoot across the room into a familiar position, angled up at the wall to write, and it pauses. Then, slowly, it burns two words into the wall, and finally goes dormant once more.
SLEEP WELL