Chapter Text
ABOUT TWO YEARS AGO
Was there anyone who actually knew what had happened that day? “A serpent of enormous size destined to consume all of creation” helped, thank you very much. How could anything be destined anyway? Prophecies were rare these days.
Mister fuddy-duddy chatted softly with the librarian, every so often having enough courage to remind me why we were here. All of that for being a higher rank than him, but lower than them. Why hadn’t Her Majesty gone herself if it was so important?
After scribbling down yet another useless note, I moved to the next shelf. What had she asked again? Mythology, etymology, biology… Ah, laws. Of course.
Squinting, I brushed my fingers along the curves of the folded scrolls. The titles were usually written on the shelf, often as a tag tied to the scroll itself. Pretty neat.
She’d been speaking of new bridges, so…something about urbanisation? Or about the ecology of the canals? Ugh. Shouldn’t there be a separate person responsible for this? But no, Her Highness must learn!
These would do. Tucking the scrolls under my arm, I—
“May I assist you, miss?”
I turned about, my notebook threatening to slip away. Since when did they have droids in here? Choosing red eyes for its design was certainly the wrong choice. Why make it look so unsettling?
“No, thanks,” I said, breathing out, and headed to the mythology section. Perhaps they had something more useful there.
Djinns…ghosts… There. The Serpentine. After leaving the “importants” on the floor, I opened a paper labeled The Day of the Great Devourer.
Giant, deadly… Venomous? At least one new bit was included in the otherwise dramatized description.
“We both know this section should be renamed,” the droid from earlier said, voice heavy with static.
Huh. Quite informal for a worker.
It took a scroll from the next shelf. “Far too often these ‘myths’ become manifest,” it continued despite my lack of attention. “Could it be a coincidence?”
Noticing the title, I frowned. They had records of the Oni—never seen beings—but nothing of the actual disasters?
“I guess not,” I muttered, half to draw the droid away, half of pure opinion.
It pointed the Oni scroll at me. “Perhaps this one will interest you.”
I rolled the serpentine description back to its place. Then, curious, I took the droid’s, its paper far more yellowed, tied with a dark purple ribbon.
“Do you think there’s a reason?” I asked. “Why it always happens in Ninjago?”
“We could puzzle over the mystery,” it said, tapping a metal finger on the tags. “Together, if you wish.”
One side of the tag depicted the usual “Find your wisdom at the Library of Domu” slogan, but the other had an odd address on it along with “Mr E.”
“Your Highness!” the guard was calling.
“Consider,” the droid whispered before retreating to a faraway shelving. “And give a note when you do.”
***
At least Their Majesties had enough brains to install signs on every corner. Right below the lantern, one of the metal arrows pointed to the subway. Brilliant, how the letters were visible even at night.
Holding the hood tight over my forehead, I fished out the tag. None of the buildings on the street had these numbers, so it must be the location of a station. Well, another unexplored destination.
The guards once again hadn’t seen me leaving; fortunately, my groaning windowsill was the only inconvenience. That many unrelated scrolls did catch a few glances by the personnel, but got quickly dismissed by Hutchins’s stern commands. As long as my secondary research remained at least half decent, no questions would be brought up.
Adjusting the scroll case on my shoulder, I descended to the underground. That was the most crowded place I’d ever been to, if not counting last year’s festival.
Careful not to bump into anyone, I made my way to the stalls. Perhaps buying a ticket was necessary after all. Why not show the maps before requiring payment? It didn’t make any sense. How was I supposed to know whether this line went where I needed to? The given issue would be too suspicious to bring up at the next assembly, though.
If I was going to make it to the next assembly, that was. Following a stranger was dangerous, but we were in Ninjago, so it would sooner start a rebellion than murder me or something.
Also, should droids have genders? I kept thinking of it as it, not as them, and perhaps it was too biased. The tag said “Mr”, so could it actually be a he?
My ticket beeped as I went through the booths. Thanks to self-service checkouts, nobody had tried to peek at my face too much. It wasn’t like anyone had ever seen me or the Empress without the royal makeup—which involved too much white powder—but better be safe than sorry. Were Hutchins to hear of this…
Passing through the concourse, I walked up to the gate that had the same letters as on the tag. Huh. The numbers didn’t match any of the routes, as depicted on a map of squiggly lines and too many colors.
A tap came on my shoulder, and I forced myself to not shy back.
“Have you decided?” the same droid asked, though now wearing all black instead of the usual white designed by Dr Borg.
“What you gave me is quite”—I reached for the case—“peculiar.”
“Enough to join me in my scavenging?”
“I’ll require something less vague than that,” I said. “And another thing: where is this?”
His eyes flickered on the tag in my hand. “My…study,” he said. “Let me show you.”
I was getting right into a trap, wasn’t I? Yet the scroll he’d given me… The Oni were a fascinating concept. From another realm, powerful, dangerous—their description mostly included typical characteristics of a villain, but what if they had more to their story than mere destruction?
Mr E—the droid’s chosen name—led the way down the subway tunnel.
Practically pressed to the wall and hoping no trains would come at me, I followed the narrow path.
At the end, the room widened, isolated from working lights. While my sight adjusted, Mr E knocked on a far wall, and it shifted. What the—
Then he did a click again, revealing a freaking hidden base.
The Palace of Secrets didn’t seem so unique anymore.
Eyes narrowed almost in a smiley manner, the droid gestured for me to enter.
Well…the last fleeing chance was now. And if anything went wrong, I could simply knock him down with the scroll case—
A metal dude.
Hit with leather.
“How did you…” I asked as Mr E closed the walls behind me.
“Oh, you humans did all the dirty work,” he said. “I merely used what you did not.”
Wait. This was why the address on the tag got scrapped from all maps. The N line project was turned down years ago; no wonder someone’s made use of it by now.
Mr E pointed at his desk, at the scattered papers all over it and the walls. He mimicked the noise of clearing one’s throat, then straightened. “I yearn to learn, to comprehend the lost unknown. So do you,” he said, pointing at one of the scrolls. “I wish to bring back the long-forgotten. And you?”
“And me?” I mused, noticing many mythological descriptions. “Why invite me?”
Mr E handed me some notes.
No, these were declines with stamps from local and faraway archives.
“Your status makes you a perfect envoy,” he explained. “While my nature, however beneficial, restricts me from human rights.”
“So I’ll supposedly make inquiries for you,” I summed up. “My benefit in this? Obviously, it won’t be with the court’s approval. Do you realise what I could commit by defying Their Majesties? By accepting your invitation to complicity?”
He paused in his sorting. “Your own research would’ve led to the same conclusions. To the fact that, no matter how little or grand, everything ‘evil’ happening in Ninjago ties back to them.”
The case weighed down on my shoulder.
“I will…” he continued, “help you uncover your own mysteries, if you wish our alliance to be mutual.”
I unfolded the Oni scroll. For the first time with a partner who was actually interested in it, this research would be even more fascinating. And…yes, my Great Devourer findings started circling back to the very beginnings despite my best attempts to focus on that specific day.
If only I could ask those Ninja, or preferably Lord Garmadon.
If only the former weren’t just a bunch of little kids playing dress-up, and the latter wasn’t—according to official reports—departed.
“Who are you?” I teased. “Nobody’s questioning these things anymore.”
“I am a mere herald of the ultimate,” he explained casually. “A sliver of the greatest past.”