Disclaimer: I am not Cornelia Funke and do not possess any of her amazing intellect. This is a peice of mindless fanfiction.
summary: Late one night the Bluejay steals into the study of Orpheus to discuss theft in different forms, As the Bluejay struggles to dertmine the difference between himself and the man known as Mortimer, and Orpheus of his struggle to acheive power. set between Inkspell and Inkdeath.
On stolen Words And Stolen Personas
The street is silent save for the howling of the wind while the moon rides high across the black sky of the Inkworld.
Sliding breathlessly across the alleyways as easily as a shadow a figure moves.
He is known by many names and has demonstrated talent as a humble bookbinder, perhaps though, he is most famous for his role in this tale as a robber.
But not your average robber, oh no, for the Bluejay steals much more precious treasure than gold or silver, he is a thief of hearts. The hearts of the poor, the starving and weak alike, for to them the man who once went as Mortimer Folchart is a beacon of hope in these dark times.
The alleyways he weaves through are those of the city of Ombra, a city that is crumbling without a single stone falling out of place.
As everyone knows, the foundations of any true city, is built on the rich intricacies of its people, through their success the city prospers.
The people of Ombra however, were beaten and worn; their only hope lay outside the city, their Bluejay.
It was for these people that the Bluejay arrives now at the house of one Orpheus, a person who, in any other tale, would be nothing less than a second rate scoundrel.
Light shone from only one window, indicating the only place Cheeseface could be on a night such as this.
It was up to this window that Mortimer climbed, using the large drainpipe to claw his way to the second storey and vault himself cleanly onto the window ledge.
Without pausing to draw breath, (for the Bluejay was as much a shadow as he was a robber) Mortimer peered into Orpheus' study.
Thick red velvet curtains barred most of his view, nether the less he could just make out Cheeseface's desk, upon which a glass man perched, hurriedly sharpening a row of pencils.
The light from the fireplace reflected perfectly off the glass man's translucent skin and for a second the Bluejay was as completely captivated as a crow would be with a shiny object.
Could this world be any more fascinating? Mo asked himself.
Fenoglio had woven this story together as easily as the Bluejay could weave through alleyways.
Focus Mo, a voice in his head hissed, that is why you're here, to protect such beauty.
Mo pressed his nose up against the glass in a ridiculous manner that would have made Meggie laugh (if she were there) as he tried to see more of the room.
Unfortunately the latch on the window gave way and the glass parted to either side of the pane, flicking the curtains aside and catching the Bluejay off balance.
Mo fall into Orpheus' study just as a gust of wind swept into the room from the now open window. The wind guttered out the fireplace in one shuddering breath, leaving the study in total darkness.
If the Bluejay had aimed for a grand entrance, he had achieved it Mo consoled himself as he quickly scrambled to his feet and stood glaring at the man behind the desk.
The glass man on the desk shrieked and hid behind the bottle of wine on the desk, Orpheus however acted as if there had been no interruption and continued top scratch away on the piece of parchment before him.
"you certainly have a flair for the dramatic Bluejay" The other man spat, his voice constricting as he choked out the last word in a mixture of distaste and jealousy.
"Really? I always thought that was your thing" Mortimer shot back casually as he approached the table.
The glass man gave another shriek, although it carried a tone of awe.
Orpheus ignored the Bluejay's comment and continued writing for a full minute, finally placing his pencil down neatly and looking up at Mortimer.
The Bluejay could see even the trace of jealousy and for a second he felt pity for Orpheus, as the old Mortimer would have done.
But, as quickly as the feeling had come, it was replaced by the steel heart of the Bluejay.
"What you're doing is wrong!"
"What's wrong to some is right to others" Orpheus shot back matter-of-factly as he stood up and went to the window. Surveying the outside world he asked,
"What is the Bluejay? A man or a Phantom?"
"Stop" Mortimer began, referring not to the words Orpheus spoke but the words he wrote.
But Orpheus went on, "a god or a demon?"
"Stop it now!" The Bluejay said firmly, not entirely sure what he were referring to any more. In a effort to focus on why he had come Mortimer pressed on, "those words you write aren't yours, you stole them from the true author of this world"
Orpheus laughed in a mocking sort of way," a thief lecturing me on theft? Now there is irony that no-one could write!"
Shaking his head Orpheus turned to face the Bluejay, "Fenoglio is an old fool who didn't recognize the potential of his own story, but I do! I am both within the story and rewriting it now, I can change it, imagine being able to do that in our world, the things I could do, the things I could be"
And there he stopped for a look of wonder crossed his face, and Mortimer had no doubt that he was lost in his own imaginings.
"That's too much power for one man!" Mo cried back, thankful that it couldn't happen in the other world.
"Power? Yes that's the word I was looking for," Orpheus said suddenly in delight, awakening from his trance as he looked to Mo.
"I was never as important nor powerful in the other world." He continued in a casual sort of way as a look of bewilderment crossed Mortimer's face,
Where was this leading to?
"But here, I have that chance don't I, I am achieving that now!" Orpheus concluded with sickening happiness.
Sadly Mo shook his head and with the voice of the Bluejay replied coldly, "I won't give you that chance!"
Then just like that he is gone, out through the windows and down the drain pipe in the blink of an eye.
One day, he knew, Orpheus would do something so despicable it would bring him the power he sort, of that Mo was sure.
Maybe it would affect the women and children of Ombra, maybe everyone else too, maybe, Meggie, Resa and I as well, Mo thought quietly.
Only time would tell, and when it did, The Bluejay and not Mortimer would act.
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