when we did not know the answers {Caz}

[Mumble]

Surreal. That was the word that kept popping up in Mumble's mind to describe this whole scenario. Giselle's birds had found him shoes from somewhere, that was...out of the ordinary, to say the least. He was face to face with people he hadn't seen in five years, and if that wasn't weird enough, it seemed like it had been more or less time wherever they'd been. Part of him was convinced he was dreaming. He'd just fallen asleep, and this was a dream, a dream that started with him thinking he heard music and just kept going from there, blinding flash of light and all.

Or maybe he was dying...maybe his body had just had enough of the nonsense he'd been putting it through for five years, and everything was just shutting down. He glanced over at Cazaril, wondering if he was struggling with this, too. Mumble hoped not. Somebody in this situation needed to have their head on straight, dream or coma or whatever it was notwithstanding.

Adding to his befuddlement was the fact that nothing was the way he remembered it. Everything was overgrown, like nature had reclaimed the space for herself. Mumble had grabbed a stick, which he was using to push away some of the denser vegetation in their way, but as they walked, a sense of eeriness lingered about the place.

"That's....I think this is where we used to have dances, like for holidays or prom or whatever," he said, pointing towards the building ahead with his stick. "It's so weird. I remember this like it was yesterday, but it feels like...did you ever play those video games, where there was a zombie apocalypse or whatever, and then you have to go and walk through the remnants of civilization. That's what this feels like." He was rambling, and he was doubtful that Caz had ever actually played the games he was referring to, but if he didn't talk, he was just going to feel even weirder, because the silence was straight up creepy.

"What, um, what happened to you while you were gone?" he asked, shooting another sideways glance at his companion.

[Cazaril]

Cazaril ws quiet for the most part on the way to the Ballroom, stepping from door to door to see if anyone else had arrived, or if wasn't overgrown. Unfortunately, the ballroom was no exception to the rule.

Mumble seemed nervous, and, forever the teacher, Cazaril tried to be the more clear headed of the two to give stability and security. He remembered his time as a castle warder, serving his time to as a slave. He had learnt there that the more with it you appeared, the more likely people would listen.

He gave Mumble a soft reply, looking around him. “I remember, many a night in this room was always pretty…..eventful.”

Cazaril was certain it was after one of their many dances that he had kissed Morgana for the first time, at least, that’s what he remembered. Sometimes, he wasn’t sure what was real anymore, or what was pretend, after that awful spell.

But then he asked a question that surprised him, Cazaril faltered as he moved towards a sheet covered in dust covering some furniture that he was intending to shake.

“Oh, I was sent home, for several years. Nothing too exciting, I just….kept to myself and tried to stay out of trouble.”

He gave the other man a kind smile gesturing for the man to help with the sheet.

“And you? How long did your portal take you away for?”

[Mumble]

It was good to not be alone. Not just...not by himself, but with someone who, despite being a relative stranger, knew this place, knew the beautiful and awful things that had happened in it, had lived here, known the truth of it. All that. Mumble stepped into the ballroom, a feeling of heavy sadness in his heart, but it was a healthy sadness. Not the manic, desperate self-doubt that had been coursing through his veins for most of the past five years.

"Remember that one Halloween," he said, reaching down to rub away the layer of dust on the floor tiles, "when there was...some enchantment, and everyone turned into whatever their costumes were?" It sounded outrageous, honestly, and if he'd said it back in his own world, he was sure it could have been the final straw towards getting his already-concerned parents to hospitalize him.

He moved to help Caz pull the sheet away. "It's been five years," he said quietly. "Since I was here, since..." He stood up straight, rubbing at one elbow with the other hand. "It's been really hard." He didn't mean to make this about him, and he was sure if things had been as bad as they had for him, other people must have had it rougher. "I just kept looking for ways to get back. Ways to find my girlfriend. I hope she's still my girlfriend, I hope..." Oh, no, here came the tears again. He swallowed hard.

"It's hard, when you can't even say goodbye to people before you're away from them."

[Cazaril]

They revealed together with a lift a beautiful ornate table and chairs. It was as beautiful as the tutor remembered it as he tenderly a hand runs over the wood. He looked lost in memories of dancing and magic, before Mumble began to speak to him again.

Five years stolen, that was a long time. Cazaril had grown used to separation, both by war or by slavery. He truly felt he had stood the tests of time because of these events.

But even with his trials, he had not expected the young man to cry -- again.

Cazaril abandoned the table to move closer to him, with sympathy growing in his face, the reveal that he too had lost family and friends when he was taken away…

“I know where you stand with this, I….I’ve not seen my fiance or my son in over a decade. I don’t even know if they know who I am anymore. Last time…” He patted the man’s shoulder.

“We must stay optimistic, Mumble, we must get through this together, you and I. We’ll find out what happened.”

Even if it’s the worst possible scenario.

He gave the shoulder a squeeze.

“Let’s keep looking...perhaps there’s another portal in the depths of this room.”

[Mumble]

Fiancee and son!? Mumble felt a flush of embarrassment. For all the turmoil and agony of the past five years, he couldn't imagine how much worse it would have been if he'd also had a child involved. And he and Andy weren't...well, they'd only just gotten around to actually talking about their feelings honestly, it wasn't...what if she hadn't waited for him? What if she'd gone home and married some merman?

I'll never stop loving you, Mumble. He could hear her voice in the back of his mind, back on prom night, back when they'd danced together and held each other and finally said the things they were feeling. He cleared his throat and held his head high. This wasn't the time to start doubting. Not now, not when he was so close to figuring things out, not when finding her looked more realistic than it had since they'd been sent home.

"You're right," he agreed, nodding once, summoning all his resolve. "We can figure this out. After everything, I guess...it'd be stupid to lose hope now."

He moved over to another set of pointy-cornered objects underneath a sheet, and pulled the sheet off.

"You know," he mused, "I wonder if...I don't know if somebody covered the furniture in here because the ballroom wasn't being used at the time, or because they knew it would be so long before anybody was here again. I guess it could be either." He folded the sheet and set it to the side, running his hand along the aged fabric on the back of a chair.

"How old would he be now?" he asked. "Your son, I mean."

[Cazaril]

Cazaril hadn’t been wanting to think about Mordred, but here he was thinking about it anyway. This little boy with dark hair, a boy he thought he’d lost forever, perhaps still had. There was no sure thing Morgana and Mordred were here, if they had been able to come back like Arthur and Merlin.

“---Ten years old, I think he’s ten. Morgana had the use of her powerful magic, and I know he was older than he should of been the last time I saw him…”

There’s a look on Cazaril’s face, lost, just for a moment, the tiniest second as though he’s somewhere else, disjointed from this reality.

And then he’s back, back in time to this spot. His hands clap together.

“It’s an interesting theory, I feel like that’s probably a link, Mumble. Perhaps, we should see if any of the other rooms have been covered in this way, then we’ll know that this was prepared for….and then someone or something was behind it not just the castle.”

If they could find out what happened, the closer they were to getting their lives back here.

“I’m sure your girlfriend, wherever she is, is safe. That’s what I hope for my family.”

If he can’t have them back, he can keep that thought with him.

[Mumble]

For a moment there, Caz looked a lot like Mumble felt. Disoriented, confused, completely lost. And in that moment, Mumble wasn't quite sure what to do. He was barely holding it together here himself; he had felt too many different emotions in the past hour and he was pretty sure his brain was short-circuiting or something. The sudden guilt wasn't helping, either. How could he be such a mess when this guy hadn't seen his almost-wife and kid for ten years? All Mumble had been doing was searching for mermaids for five years.

"She better be safe," he said, a wry little smile turning up one corner of his mouth. "If she's not...well, then I might have to go on a revenge mission instead of the missing person case I've been working for the last five years." When he said it that way, it almost sounded like he was a detective or something, and not just a guy who had spent the past half decade running around to various museums asking for all their stories of mermaids but like, real ones, like evidence that they actually exist.

"You know what," he said, looking around the room. "I kind of think we should clean up in here." He wasn't quite sure how that would help, but...everything was so unbearably vacant and ancient, and surely getting at least one room cleaned would make him feel a little better. "Do you know where they used to keep like...brooms, or mops or anything?"

[Cazaril]

Had he known to the depths Mumble cared about how he felt, he would have been thankful and a little embarrassed, such as it is with men revealing emotions. Luckily, Cazaril wasn’t too into his masculinity to be too bothered, merely bristled.

“Take it from me, Mumble. Revenge missions are a bad idea….better to live on in a person’s name than kill in it...”

Still, Mumble suggesting they cleaned the ballroom, did seem like a good idea. A fresh start, a clean slate so they can start again together.

He smiled. “Cleaning up? Great idea, though, where the cleaners would---”

He began looking around the room with a frown before gesturing a hand towards what looked like a cupboard door.

“What about in there?” he asked.

[Mumble]

"I don't know if I could hold it together long enough to carry out a revenge mission, honestly," Mumble admitted. "I've had a hell of a time even with all the hope I've had, I don't...I'm not sure what I'd have left to keep going for if I didn't think she was out there waiting for me." It sounded kind of morose, but he was actually much more upbeat than he had been for quite a while now.

Moving over to the cupboard, he lifted up the hem of his shirt to wipe away some spiderwebs on the handle of the door. "Ick," he commented, making a face. "Spiders all over everything." He gave the door a good tug, and with a little effort, managed to pull it open. There were a few things inside; a box of plastic sporks, an incredibly dusty pair of what looked to be tap shoes, a bowl of about two dozen keys, and in the corner, the one thing he was looking for - a broom.

"Victory," he announced, pulling the broom out. "So...one of us can take the rest of these sheets off and fold, and one of us can start sweeping? Any preference?"

[Cazaril]

Cazaril had no issue with spiders, water yes, crows --- mostly yes. Spiders he could handle. He was still contemplating what Mumble had said.

He wondered about Morgana. He wandered about what would happen if she had returned here. What sort of life she had lead in that time. His son too. Everything about their departure was foggy. Maybe she had forgotten him. Maybe she had really let loose on her powers, become as dark as she admitted she'd once that she felt she was becoming.

And he'd assured her that he'd be by her side, but what if she didn't want him again?

There were always a hundred questions, and no answers. Hundreds of possibilities.

And all he had was his faith that at least, if he was there again, if she wanted him again, he would be there for her. As he always said he would be.

"All I know, Mumble is, we have to try to live the lives that we were dealt, and if....if that's even a possibility, then we must make the most of it."

Still, he shrugged. "I don't mind folding---" he began, before he thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye --- was someone else here!?

"Halt who goes there!?" he calls out, his voice echoing through the loud ballroom, sounding magnificent and strong in the dark.

[Mumble]

Caz was very smart, Mumble thought. Maybe "smart" wasn't even the best word for it, it was more like...wise. Yeah, that was it. He sounded very wise. So wise, in fact, that Mumble felt a little dumb in comparison. Here he was going on about revenge and spiders and giving up, and Caz was dishing out inspirational quotes you could put on a poster.

"That's super-" He stopped, because Caz had apparently heard something. He covered his mouth with one hand, suppressing a sudden giggle. Caz sounded so important just then. Mumble wasn't sure he'd ever heard somebody say Halt, who goes there outside of movies, but Caz had delivered it perfectly.

"That was so cool," he whispered, unsure why he was whispering. It felt like he ought to, if there was someone there, but he didn't hear anybody respond. "Is...um..." If there was someone lurking there, maybe they shouldn't be here.

"Do you think we should go?" he asked, holding onto the broom tightly. Brooms made great weapons, after all.

[Cazaril]

After the initial look in the dark, standing looking foreboding; Caz raised an amused eyebrow at Mumble's 'cool' comment. He hadn't been called that in a while. He thought about what Mumble has said about leaving, and gave him a nod.

"I think maybe we should leave, for the time being at any rate."

He tilted his head to look at Mumble, ready for a fight. He figured that if there were enemies around, Mumble may not be the best person to have as a second, because he'd spend the majority of the time worried about his friend. He couldn't however, fault the optimism.

"Perhaps when classes start again, you can come for me for some defense training Mumble. If the school does actually open again. Do you think it will?"

[Mumble]

Mumble had zero interest in dying at the hands of some crazed marauder not one hour after he'd been pulled back to the place he'd been going crazy trying to find for the past five years. So when Caz agreed that they should go, he breathed a little sigh of relief. He really wasn't in any condition to be fighting anyone, but he probably would have given it a good try anyway if Caz had asked him to stay.

"Defense training?" he repeated, interested. A little pang of sadness shot through him as he contemplated that. The last time he and Andy had been together, she'd been training him in some of the combat she had learned in her own world. "I know some stuff with a trident. But tridents are kinda hard to come by most of the time."

He started towards the door, still holding onto the broom, as Caz asked him another question, this time about the school.

"Guin, I hope it reopens," he answered, walking carefully. "I mean...it'd be a shame to see this place stay empty for too long. The best memories of my life I made here, you know? I think we have to try, anyway."

[Cazaril]

Cazaril smiles, patting his shoulder, moving with him, swiftly towards the door.

"A trident? That does sound like a useful weapon, more useful than a broom." He says, pointing to the 'weapon' Mumble had picked up, before looking round again, wondering if they were being watched.

"Lets just get this place as close to normal, as Tintagel will allow, hmm and we can put the past behind us."

Even though the past, particularly for these two men, wasn't going anywhere.

[Mumble]

"Yeah," Mumble nodded. "My girlfriend is a mermaid, see. Or, I mean, she was...is, when she's not here, so the trident thing is like...standard mermaid training, I guess." Mumble did not know for certain whether trident-wielding was actually something they taught mermaids in school back in Atlantica, but, well, either way, Andy definitely knew what she was doing with one.

He ducked his head in agreement when Caz said they should get the place back to normal. "We should get it ready so when our ladies come back, they'll have somewhere nice to stay," he said, deciding to swerve towards a little blinding optimism for the first time in a couple years.

He moved into the doorway, poking his head through and looking either way before turning back to Caz. "I don't see anything lurking waiting to eat us at the moment...want to head back to the others?"