1. Macabre Marmalade (COMPLETED; EDITING)

XXVI (12.1)

Todor stood in front of the statue of three people. He always drove past this display on his way to work but he never paid much attention to it. Now since he was forced to walk to his old workplace he gave the monument official recognition. He took a better look at the trio immortalized in the middle of this park. On the left was a human, wearing military uniform Todor remembered from the movies before the Knitting, which would mean this represented Three Banners War era when uniforms from Mother Globe were still in use. The second figure in the middle was clearly a Morgothlite, he towered over the other two in size and bulk. The third was someone Todor recognized. It was his new boss, Holanador Muffonrox Belleroha Bloodbeak, governor of Moriganhold.

An old man approached Todor as he studied the statues. He wore a pale beige trenchcoat and same colored fedora. Long gray hair fell down his back, slightly gathered at his nape with gold hoops. Todor felt something familiar about him.

"Founding fathers of Moriganhold," he said in a rough voice that for some reason got on Todor nerves. "What a nice place they created for youngsters, like you. A city of opportunity for all who are willing to work hard and grab their chances as hard as they can."

Todor wanted to ignore the man but he glanced at him with a corner of his eye. Why am I annoyed at this grandpa? Is it his voice? It sounds fake like he tries to change it.

"I had no clue Moriganhold was founded by three people," Todor said flatly. And as I learned recently, I have no idea about many other things.

"That is because you youngin's don't look around very often. You glare at one point in the distance while you charge towards it, ignoring the whole world in the process. So you live one road at the time. Instead of embracing what you are and what you can become you blame the world, using excuses as a crutch. The only way to move forward is to walk many paths at the same time and yet accepting all of them as true. Acceptance. Of what you are and what the world is," the old-timer droned on and for some reason, Todor felt the compulsion to listen. "Especially when you have two minds trying to settle in one skull," the old man finished cryptically.

Todor snapped his head to look at the man but he was gone. The park spread around him and all the sounds of people, birds, and wind became muted as he looked for the chatty old man. But the stranger was nowhere to be seen. He shivered looking at the empty air where the man stood just a second ago. Who was that? He gulped. What was that?

"I haven't slept enough," Todor mumbled under his breath and started walking.

He emptied his mind, trying to remove every thought that came to him. His meeting of Midnight Breeze at Irry's party, and kidnapping that followed. Meeting Cassandra and life-threatening date with golems and assassins ambushing them from every corner. The memory of his poor car ruined and the face of his mother when she gifted him that old clunker. The No Terror's memory and his words about Ezezu taking over his body which will end in the death of both of them. The mention of his True Name and his speculation on how could he discover it. All that tried to invade his mind, yelling for attention but he pushed it all away. He didn't want to ponder what does all that mean, or where is leading him. The only thing that matter was his steps towards the old jam factory.

Half an hour later he was in front of the building. Todor let out a loud sigh as the familiar yellow painted walls stood in front of him. The air smelled of strawberries and crushed spirit. The feeling of hopelessness that always overtook him when he went to work here returned. I am not working here anymore, cheer up, he told himself walking briskly towards the entrance. His employee card still worked, the door opening after he swiped it through the reader. He strolled in purposefully and energetically.