A Journey Unwanted-Chapter 431 - 420: A city of rabbits?

[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: Quadling Country]

Puck and Grimm had come to a stop before a towering wall of white marble.

It rose from the open stretch of land without transition, smooth in its construction, curving slightly as it pressed against a natural rock face to one side. The stone was clean—almost unnaturally so—its surface polished enough to catch the light.

Set into the wall was a small window fitted with brass bars. Beside it, a bell-push. Beneath that, a modest sign engraved neatly: No Admittance Except on Business.

And then there was the door.

A single oak door set into all that marble. Solid and reinforced. Fitted with a brass handle that gleamed with regular use. For such a massive barrier, it was the only visible entrance.

Puck drifted slightly upward, taking it all in. "Well," she said slowly, "I suppose this answers whether anyone actually lives out here."

The rabbit from the self-moving carriage had entered here without hesitation. The carriage itself now sat abandoned some distance behind them, as though it understood it was not permitted beyond this point.

"Hm," Puck went on, folding her hands behind her back as she hovered beside Grimm. "So there really is civilization here. Aside from those ugly Hammer-Heads, the place felt practically deserted."

"Indeed," Grimm murmured. "Not even Deseruit Beasts linger in this vicinity." His gaze traced the curvature of the wall. "I did, however, perceive a notable accumulation of mana nearer to the witch’s castle. It appears most activity is centralized there."

Puck glanced at him. "So she gathers everything close to herself?"

"That would be the logical conclusion."

"Well," Puck said thoughtfully, eyes scanning the high marble, "if she’s as protective as the lion made her sound, it makes sense she’d keep most things near her. Easier to watch and easier to defend."

She tilted her head slightly.

"Guess the Hammer-Heads were just exceptions because they’re... difficult. And stubborn. And not particularly pleasant to look at." Her gaze shifted back to Grimm. "Still," she added, "I doubt the Good Witch would attack again with you standing right outside these walls." She gestured lightly toward the marble. "Not when you’re this close to something she clearly wants guarded."

Grimm did not immediately respond.

Puck’s attention wandered again. "I wonder if it’s a city filled entirely with rabbits," she mused. "All dressed like that one. Suits, frills, and little brass buttons."

"Hm," Grimm replied, finally moving forward with steady steps toward the oak door. "Observing how they structure their dwellings may hold mild interest. Architectural choices often reflect cultural priorities." He paused briefly. "Beyond that, I anticipate little."

Puck frowned faintly and drifted after him. "You always say that. ’Little,’ ’unlikely’ or ’mild.’"

She circled slightly to face him as he approached the bell-push.

"At least don’t rush through it. Wouldn’t it be worth learning something about their culture? How they live? What they value?" She crossed her armored arms loosely. "We didn’t get the chance with the Hammer-Heads. Mostly because they were too busy trying to attack us. And because, honestly, they were pretty ugly."

Grimm’s sabatons clicked softly on the stone as he stopped before the door.

"I doubt it will be as engaging as you hope," he said.

"That’s not the point," Puck countered. "You’re always analyzing the dullest things. What about customs? Traditions? Why they built a single door into a massive wall instead of multiple entrances?" Her eyes turned to the sign. "’No Admittance Except on Business.’ That might mean organization. Rules. Maybe even bureaucracy."

"Or simple caution," Grimm replied. He studied the brass handle, then the barred window. "A single entrance concentrates control. It allows those within to regulate who enters and exits. It’s efficient."

"Efficient," Puck echoed dryly. "You reduce everything to something dull."

"It is a reliable metric."

She sighed lightly as he reached toward the bell-push. "Just don’t move too quickly once we’re inside," she said. "You have a habit of deciding something isn’t worth your time before it even has a chance to surprise you."

Grimm’s hand paused a fraction before pressing the bell.

"I do not dismiss potential without observation," he said calmly.

"You kind of do."

He pressed the bell.

The sound carried beyond the door.

"We shall observe," Grimm concluded, lowering his gauntleted hand. "And if it proves mundane, we will proceed."

Puck exhaled, hovering just behind his shoulder as they waited.

"Fine," she muttered. "But if it turns out to be a city full of well-dressed, polite rabbits with complex social customs, I expect you to at least pretend to be interested."

"I will respond appropriately to what is presented," Grimm replied.

Puck rolled her eyes, though a faint smile tugged at her expression.

A few seconds passed after the bell echoed beyond the oak door.

Grimm remained still, his gauntleted hand lowering back to his side. Beneath the helm, he considered pressing it again. The pause was approaching inefficiency. Yet he could already imagine Puck’s commentary about how impatient he was being.

He decided against it.

Fortunately, the wait did not stretch much longer.

"Visitors?" a low, composed voice called from behind the barred window.

Both Grimm and Puck shifted their attention toward the sound.

A figure stepped into view behind the brass bars.

Another rabbit.

This one dressed even more elaborately than the carriage driver. A long dark coat fastened with neat buttons down the front. Beneath it, a tailored waistcoat and a carefully arranged cravat. A feathered hat rested between tall ears, and a cloak draped across its shoulders with poise. In its left paw, it held a polished black cane, seemingly not for support, merely for presence.

"Whoa," Puck breathed, drifting a little closer to the window. "It really is another one." Her smile grew. "And he’s dressed even fancier."

"Oh my," the rabbit replied, its pink eyes widening slightly as they settled on her. "A fairy? Out here in Quadling Country, no less." There was genuine surprise in its voice, with no fear or agitation.

"Oh, right," Puck said, lowering herself to eye level with the window. "I guess I forget sometimes that fairies aren’t exactly common outside Elfame. We tend to keep to ourselves." She folded her hands behind her back. "Though I have to say, talking rabbits in suits are pretty rare too. Most intelligent Deseruit Beasts don’t bother with tailoring."

"You seem particularly fixated on the suits," Grimm observed, his tone nearly dry beneath the helmet.

Puck shot him a quick glance. "What? They’re good suits. I appreciate craftsmanship."

The rabbit chuckled softly at that.

"Well, thank you, Lady Fairy," it said with a slight bow of its head. "Only the finest silks and threads are worthy of Bunnybury’s citizens." It straightened, tapping its cane lightly once against the interior floor. "Ah—but where are my manners? I am the Keeper of the Wicket. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I serve as watcher and steward for my brethren within."

"Ooh," Puck said with clear interest, "Keeper of the Wicket. That’s a very official-sounding title." She tilted her head. "So... does that mean we can come in? Or does the title mostly involve telling people no?"

The Keeper’s ears twitched faintly.

"I must apologize," it said, and there was genuine regret in its tone. "No one is permitted entry into Bunnybury without an order or letter of introduction from Ozma of Oz or Glinda the Good."

"Bunnybury," Puck repeated, smiling despite the refusal. "That’s a very cute name." She drifted a little closer to the bars. "But really? We can’t even take a quick look? I promise we’re not here to cause trouble."

The rabbit hesitated.

"The Good Witch has advised caution in all matters," the Keeper said thoughtfully. "Strangers, however pleasant, must be regarded with care. Her protection of us is thorough, and in return, we uphold her caution."

Its gaze lingered on Puck.

"Still... I see little harm in allowing a fairy entry. You are small, after all. Hardly an invading force."

Grimm said nothing.

"Don’t worry," Puck added quickly, grinning. "I can behave. Mostly."

"Hm," the Keeper mused. "There may be wiggle room."

Its eyes shifted past her to Grimm.

"For your armored companion, however, adjustments would be necessary. We would need to shrink him down considerably to pass through." His gaze lingered on Puck.

"I shall remain here," Grimm said before Puck could respond.

She turned toward him. "You’re not coming?"

"You appear far more enthusiastic about this than I," he replied evenly. "Indulge your curiosity." His posture remained relaxed. "If it proves interesting, take your time."

There was no visible impatience in his voice. Without another word, he turned away from the oak door and began walking back across the open stone, sabatons striking the ground with steady steps.

Puck watched him for a moment, head tilted slightly.

("Huh... guess he’s not so bad.")

She turned back to the Keeper with renewed interest, the marble wall still reaching high.

At least the General had a soft side.