[Story] Veiled in Velvet

*Layton's Office, the next day*

[glow=silver,2,300]It's mid-afternoon, and Professor Layton is sitting at his desk, fiddling listlessly with the sliding puzzle he obtained from Tracer. Luke is relaxing on the nearby couch reading the paper, while clattering sounds from the kitchenette next door indicate Flora is hard at work on another attempt at cooking. After minutes of quiet peacefulness in the office, the Professor finallys stirs...[/glow]


: "Hmm...confounded thing." *sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose*

: "Is something the matter, Professor?"

: "It seems I may have underestimated this puzzle, Luke."

: "What?! But you said you had the solution this time!"

: " And I do, Luke. Yet for some reason, every time I start to move the pieces, I get...confused, I suppose, or distracted." *pushes back chair and stands up* "I feel the need for a brief constitutional. Luke, my boy, would you watch the office for me while I'm out?"

: "You can count on me, Professor!"

: "I am sure I can, my boy." *exits office, mumbling to himself* _{"Hmm...most distressing, really..."}

: *sets paper aside* "Hmm, what sort of puzzle could have stumped the Professor so much? Maybe I should take a look at this, just for a minute..."




[glow=silver,2,300]Luke stands up and trots curiously over to the professor's desk, craning his head to get a clearer view of the puzzle. The sliding puzzle sits on the Professor's desk, the purple-and-gold paint of the tiles winking innocently in the sunlight. Without thinking, Luke started to move the tiles back and forth across the surface of the puzzle. It looked so simple at first; the bright colors looked like they could be arranged in a simple pattern in no fewer than a dozen moves. Yet as Luke worked, doubts and distractions began to bubble to the surface of his conciousness. Was the gold scrolling supposed to go here, or over there? He needed to move the purple-and-blue piece aside for either move; but if that piece slid over there, than this piece couldn't go at the top--unless he moved the pale blue piece over here? But then that meant the second gold piece would be displaced, and Luke would have to start moving the purple pieces around the picture again...


Sweat dripped off of Luke's brow, and his eyes grew glazed and unfocused as he continued to shift piece after piece around. His hands slid over the pieces as though they were on puppet strings...[/glow][glow=violet,2,300](and on the windowsill a shimmering butterfly with pale violet wings takes flight and skims out into the city)[/glow][glow=silver,2,300]...until the entranced Luke was hardly aware of anything but the shifting of pieces. Back and forth, back and forth moved the gleaming tiles as Luke's hands traced their eternal paths around the puzzle, until--[/glow]

: "Luke? Luke, what's wrong?" *shaking shoulders*

: "Huh? Oh, hey Flora." *yawns* "I was working on this puzzle and I...must have got distracted or something." *taps head a few times to clear it* "Ooh, tea's up!"

: "Mm hm! And I baked some scones for you both!" *holds up a plate of charred mysterious lumps*

: "Ah, maybe we should wait for the Professor to return." *takes teacup* "Here, Flora, think you can help me solve this puzzle?"

: "Oh, sure thing Luke. Um, it's just a sliding puzzle, right? Hm...maybe if we move this piece over here, and then slide this one down...

and then...this one...across...

and...


and..."


[glow=silver,2,300]...and the room grew silent once again, save the occasional clicking sound as tile met tile. Luke raised his eyes to Flora's, and was shocked to find that those bright orbs dulled, her face was slackened and cold, her hands moved listlessly over the puzzle pieces.[/glow]


: "Flora? Flora! Flora, wake up!" *shaking her shoulders*

: "H-huh? What happened... Oh, it's just you, Luke." *looks down* "I must have dozed off while fiddling with this puzzle; how odd..."

: "You too? The same thing happened to me just now; it felt like I was sleepwalking! This is bad...no wonder the Professor couldn't solve this puzzle."

: "W-wait. Are you saying that we were...hypnotized by that thing? But, but how?"

: "I don't know; ever since we got here, things have been getting stranger and stranger. And the way Tracer was talking about this puzzle...I think we might be dealing with something magical that doesn't want this puzzle solved."

: "Hmm...or maybe it's a test. You know, to see if we're 'worthy' or something."

: "Either way, I think we're going to have a tough time figuring this thing out."

: *pondering* "Well, I bet if we put our heads together, we could figure out a way around the enchantment!"

: "Sure we could! After all, we are apprentices of the famous Professor Layton! We're not going to let some whimpy curse stop us! Now, let's see..."

[glow=silver,2,300]Luke and Flora spent the next few hours wrestling with the sliding puzzle. They carefully catalogued their moves, planned the solution in advance, and were quick to give a shake (or, in one memorable instance, a slap across the face) to a hypnotized comrade. The enchantment put up a valiant fight, and there were several moments when Luke and Flora realized they would have to undo all of their hard work and start again. Frustration set in and tempers began to fray; yet always, Luke and Flora's combined diligencewas powerful enough to get them back on the track to solving the puzzle. And, piece by piece, the pattern began to come together.[/glow]


: "Whew, almost...almost got it. Just slide this piece here, and then this one goes...in here, and then--"

: *shakes Luke* "Focus, Luke! We're almost done; just think of how proud the Professor will be when he sees we've solved the puzzle for him!"

: *who returned half an hour ago and has been watching the children in bemused silence* (Well, I certainly do admire their dedication. I wonder when they'll notice my presence?) *sips tea quietly and watches*

: "Aha! Just switch this with this...slide this here...and..."

*KA-CLICK*


[glow=silver,2,300]As the last piece slots into place, the whole puzzle begins to glow faintly. Thin lines of silvery-white fire trace the contours of the puzzle pieces, and the colors of its odd shapes flare brightly for a second. The Professor, Luke and Flora are forced to shield their eyes; when they look back at the puzzle it looks [/glow]



: "We did it! Er, what exactly did we do?"

: "I'm not exactly sure. Maybe the Professor can tell us what this means..."

: "Indeed I can Luke. But first, allow me to commend both of you on your powers of concentration. Although there is something to be said for awareness of your surroundings as well."

: *both start* "Waugh!"

: "Oh! We--we didn't hear you come in, Professor! Um...we've solved this puzzle, but we're not sure what it means."

: "Oh, I think it's meaning is quite clear from the proper perspective. Simply turn the puzzle around, Luke, and you'll see what I mean."

: "Hey! There's something written on here...looks like, a pair of numbers and letters. Maybe...map coordinates?"

: "Precisely, my boy." *draws map from coat pocket* "If my logic is correct, the puzzle-maker is trying to direct us...here."

((MORE TO FOLLOW))

: "...and you're sure it's right here?"

: "I believe so, yes. It appears that the unknown puzzle-maker is concealing his clues in otherwise nondescript locations. For what purpose, I don't know. I suppose we'd better start by investigating the area."

---

Layton, Luke, Flora, and Tracer are standing in the middle of a decrepit, twisting alleyway, scarely big enough for a car, situated between two brick buildings. The nearby street sign indicates the name of this alleyway in peeling white paint. A patch of sidewalk has been ripped up, revealing the dirt street beneath. An imposing door offers a service entrance to a run-down diner on the right side of the street; the left wall is adorned with copious amounts of graffiti but nothing more. Huddled on the doorstep, a scurrilous street artist is sketching a design on a pad of cheap paper. A broken fountain was once erected in the square beyond; some of the pieces of the statue of Neptune from the fountain lie scattered across the alleyway. The scene is illuminated by a single Victorian-style lamp-post.


((TAP THE SCREEN TO INVESTIGATE--or just click on the spoiler boxes))






















...

: "Well, looks like we're out of options; lets see if that hobo can help us."

---

: *mumbling* _{"...vinegar and fish oil, three cups a day, right as rain, you'll see, right as rain...} *snrk* "Hm? 'Ere, what's this? Oho! A hand of three cards delt right at my doorstep, all nice and tidy!"

: "Pardon our intrusion sir, but--"

: "A hee hee hee! They say the comet that burns brightest is an omen of death. Whose star ceases to shine, when the comet flames across the sky, eh? What goes up must come down, hehehe, but heeheehee we forget--what goes up must go up, too! AHAA--ha ha ha HAAA! Eh-hah, hah, aghk kak keck uglh--" *breaks off into wheezing cough*

: "Are--are you okay, sir?"

: "Eh? Whazzat? Am I okay? You've got more to worry about then my health, young Merlin; the hounds are at your doorstep and they've lit the last campfire you'll need, lad. Let me see your face: yes, yes, strong cheekbones, a determined gaze...you might just walk through fire if you choose. Walk into the center of the sun, hehehe..."

: "Um, um, um, what are you talking about?"

: "Ah, little sunbeam, if only I could begin to explain the mysteries...but they say bliss is ignorance, yes? Perhaps the nighttime shadows are the truth, and the searing suns rays are what I needs must fear...get away, little solar, get away! You won't take my mind from me--you can't."

: "Sir." (There's got to be a way to talk to this man...) *Louder* "Excuse me sir, but can you tell us anything about this?"

*Layton reaches into his coat and withdraws the completed puzzle. As soon as he sees it, the street artist stops talking and stares at the puzzle.*

: "..._{hm-hm, and so the journey begins...} What's that you've got there, sir?"

: "Well, I was rather hoping you could tell us. It's a sliding puzzle, but I confess myself at a loss as to its meaning."

: *stares intently at the puzzle* "This...this is..."

: "Yes? Yes?"

: "This is...a pattern! A-he he he he! Yes, definitely a pattern, most assuredly..."

: (I don't think this guy's going to be any help after all)

: "hm-hm...The Tears of Memory."

: "Wait, what did you say?"

: "The Tears of Memory. That's what you'll need to paint this pattern. Regular paints won't work for this, you'll need the Tears if you want to summon the Door."

: (That's it! I thought that pattern looked familiar; it was on the outside of the door that lead into the Velvet Room!) "The Tears of Memory, what are they?"

*The artist picks up his brush and begins busily sketching something. As his paintbrush flies over the canvas, words begin to spill from his mouth in a disorganized jumble.*

---

The world is much more complicated than most think; many mortals do not realize the true consequences of their actions. Symbols, representations, ideas, beliefs; all of these things hold great power in the lands beyond this one, and actions that can seem inconsequential to humans can actually be deeply significant on some level. An excellent example of this principle is the creation of statues.

When a statue or memorial of a real person, alive or dead, is sculpted, it begins to inherit the characteristics of the person who it is modeled after. The more people see the statue and associate it with the actual person, the more psychic resonance it achieves with that person. Some statues are so attuned to their doppelgangers that they begin to take on a semblence of life, recalling actions that were particularly significant to that person. Such statues have been known to bleed when wounded, laugh when entertained, roar when angered...and cry when provoked to sorrowed.

The Tears of Memory are liquid secretions from statues that have been provoked to extreme sorrow or despair. They have many uses both arcane and mundane, one of which is their effect on ordinary pigment. An application of the Tears to any ordinary paint renders it slightly ethereal; it becomes extremely vivid, quite permanent, and applicable to nearly any surface. And, of course, it serves as a beacon to certain entities when applied in distinct patterns. If you truly desire to reach the Velvet Room and plumb the depths of your true self, then seek out the Tears of Memory. You can store them in this.

*The artist rips the page he has been painting on out of his sketchbook. On it is a crude drawing of two empty glass vials. He hands the paper to a nonplussed Tracer, then sits back down and resumes muttering to himself*

---

: "Er, okay...anything else we should know?"

: _{"hm hm hm, trifle and swedish pudding in the garden of belles..."}

: "I...think that's all we're getting out of him. So, now what?"

: "It seems the next task before us is to...make a statue cry? Hmm, this one requires thought..."

: "You said it. All right, good work team. Now let's head home and sleep on it; those clouds look ominous."

---

[glow=silver,2,300]As the four walk home, gray-and-black storm clouds rumble overhead. Unnoticed on the rooftops above, a violet butterfly stirs and flaps its wings once in the breeze before vanishing into the shadows...[/glow]

{Manor Road, the next day}

: *staring at the streetmap* "I swear, this place gets harder to find with every day--" *looks up* "Ah! Here we are!"

: "Hmm, I don't see our vagrant guide around here today..."

: "Rats. Well, maybe we can find out where he is now; let's spread out and start searching."

: "Hey, look! There's light coming from behind that door; I think the cafe's open!"

*Luke runs up to the big rusted iron door, and eagerly tugs the handle*

: "Uh, Luke, that's the kitchen entrance; I don't think you're supposed to--Oh!"

The door swings open to reveal a well-decorated resturant foyer. Fine oaken benches line the walls, and golden railings line the path down towards the dim interior of the cafe. Behind a podium stands an alert maitre'd with an immaculately tailored suit and an...unusual cranium

: *deep bow* "Welcome to Cafe Nocturne, esteemed guests. Your table has been prepared; follow me, please." *strides off*

Everyone: ...what.

The figure with the pumpkin head leads the group over to a table in the middle of a dining room area. Most of the other tables in this room are empty, but at one a tall, pale figure in a t-shirt dines alone, while in the corner of the room two gremlins squabble viciously over a plate of breadsticks. A group of well dressed people are sharing a bottle of wine two tables over, while several roughly dressed people contemplate their menus at another table. The whole left wall of the room is taken up by a curtained stage, upon which a blindfolded pianist plays a gentle tune. There is a rather inconvenient potted plant by Luke's seat. The menu indicates that the food here is mainly French cuisine, and very expensive.















The pianist onstage finishes playing the previous tune and moves onto a new melody; this one haunting, and yet strangely familiar sounding. The pale figure nods his head slightly in approval; the gremlins stop fighting and stare enraptured at the stage. And Tracer feels something in his coat pocket beginning to move...

:"-Huh?" *rummages*

TB pulls forth the paper drawing on which the Tears of Memory are stored; however, the paper is behaving oddly, folding in on itself and back again like a bizzare self-folding origami puzzle. It crinkles and and rustles, slowly expanding and inflating until a form begins to take shape.

: _{"What's it doing?"}

On stage, the piano music slows and decresendos; the paper sculpture folds itself out a few times more before coming to a halt. As the last note fades from hearing, the paper structure collapses away, revealing two glass bottles of some pale glistening fluid that sparkles in the candlelight.

: *picks up a vial curiously* "How did..."

: "...I think we'd better have a talk with our mysterious pianist. Wait here please, children; we shall return in a minute."

: *around a mouthful of breadsticks* "M'ay, Pr'fss'r!"

Layton and Tracer stand up and approach the piano bench, where the blindfolded musician shuffles listlessly through his sheet music. At the sound of their footsteps, the man lazily inclines his head towards the duo. The fingers on one hand trail gently across the piano keys, playing a soft arpeggio; the pianist extends his other hand towards TB in greeting.

: "I see you've retrieved the item my collegue asked you to find. Well done, I suppose."

: "I suppose you are referring to the street artist who gave us that picture? Do you know where he is now, sir?"

: "The Demon Artist comes and goes as he pleases; searching for him is a fruitless task, I'm afraid." *plays a few notes* "However...I might be able to help you take the next steps on your journey. Listen..."

---

The pianist begins to play, slowly at first, then with increasing emotion and flourish. The music unfolds slowly like a blossoming flower, paralyzing the room's occupants with its haunting beauty. And through the notes, Tracer hears the voice of the pianist in his head, softly yet clearly, rising and falling in harmony with the music.

The place that you seek access to is drifting between worlds, on a never-ending journey through which the quests of its visitors occupy only a small part. For a mortal to attempt to summon the Velvet Room is rare...but it can be done, if you are talented and gifted enough to undertake the task. The door you are constructing is not an ordinary portal--it must connect to a place beyond time and space, yet one intergrally attached to it. In order to build this extraordinary door, you will need extraordinary materials. In essence, the materials must call to the door, attract the attention of it's master, and be of sufficient quality to sustain a connection. The paint you have, along with the pattern that it is to be applied on. The other materials--the frame, the surface, the hinges, and the handle--will prove, I suspect, much more difficult to acquire.

The music continues to wash over the room, its delicate harmonies folding in one themselves, expanding and collapsing like the breathing of some sonorous planet. The pianist hunches over the keyboard, face locked in a scowl of concentration, sweat staining the edges of his blindfold. Yet the gentle voice that pours into Tracer's mind never varies in intensity, but simply rises and falls along with the music.

Have you ever had the dream of mirrors? A dream where you looked into a mirror and found something unexpected staring back at you? It may have been a disturbing distortion of your form, or you may have seen something in your background that terrified you; something slithering past, perhaps, or skittering in some dark corner of the room? Or maybe you saw everything exactly as it was, and reached forward to touch the image in the glass--and found that you could no longer tell which was image and which was reality? Yes, and that is the most terrifying one of all, isn't it. No matter, we need not dwell on such disturbing matters for long. What's important for our purpose is the mirrors found in dreams--the nightmare mirrors.

Nightmares have more substance and reality than many would like to admit, and the nightmare mirrors are no exception. Deep in his castle, Morpheus, the Dream King, has a repository of such mirrors; a terrifying place, to be sure, but one where you may find what you need. For what better surface to call forth the Velvet Room than that which reflects the dark reality of man's dreams?

The piano music begins to slow and soften; the keyboardist's hands are more languid now as he plucks away at the notes, his fingers seeming to move with reluctance. The voice softens and fades away as the music dies slowly, its last lines delivered in no more than a whisper

So, if you wish to continue your self-imposed quest, gather some stalwart comerades and seek out the Lord of the Dreaming. You know he's never far away...at present, he may be even easier to gain audience with than usual. You know what you must do next...

---

...and the voice fades away, trailing off as the last note recedes from hearing. Amidst the scattered applause from the rest of the room, the pianist hurridly gathers his sheet music and exits the room swiftly. Layton leans forwards and nudges the silent Tracer, who still stands as if transfixed.

: "Uhm, Tracer? Are you ill?"

: "...Layton, would you mind watching the kids for a bit? I've got...something I need to take care of."

: "...Of course." *walks off*

: (Well, here goes nothing...time to meet the Dream King.)

"What just happened?"









The hall explodes in a blast of silvery light, illuminating the various nighmare monsters poised to spring. Eyes glowing silver, Fina lifts her arms and directs another blast of silver magic at the monsters, catching a snake-headed thing in mid-leap and sending it bowling into the surrounding pack. The rest of the Blue Rogues draw their weapons and prepare for a fight

: "There's too many...we won't stand a chance if they all attack at once!"

: "We've got to fight our way to the exit, it's our only shot! Fina, Gilder, keep the monsters at bay! Aika, we're cutting our way out of here!"

: "Aye-aye, captain!" *begins focusing*

: *twirls pistols* "Sure thing. C'mon you uglies, dance for me!"

: "Go, Cupil!"

: "Pyuu!" *transforms into a sword and attacks*

Gilder slots a silver moonstone into the cartrigdes of his two pistols, takes aim briefly, and fires off a barrage of shots into the crowd. The bullets explode into the monsters with a burst of silvery force that shoves the targets backward. A grinning harlequin leaps forward, whirling spiked clubs and cackling with insane laughter; Gilder dodges its swing and cooly puts a bullet into its masked face, kicking it back into the press of monsters.
At Gilder's back, Fina continues to cast silver magic at the nightmares, weaving shards of deadly silver crystal from the aether and hurling them at her foes. Cupil, in sword form, floats around the duo, parrying monster slashes and shoving back the ranks of monsters with wild abandon.

Aika holds her boomerang in a defensive stance, fending off the attacks of an empty suit of armor dripping blood while trying to focus her energy. Suddenly, three wraiths materialize through the floor and claw at Aika's exposed legs, their icy grip leeching the heat from Aika's body.

: Aargh!

Aika shrieks and smacks a ghoul off of her legs. Vyse dives in and stabs another one, plucking it from Aika's body with a flick of his cutlass. As Aika prises the last one off, Vyse turns to deal with the latest attacking nightmare; a translucent floating squid that wheezes clouds of poison gas. It's sticky tentacles wrap around Vyse's limbs, and he struggles to throw them off, hacking madly at the approaching apparition.

Suddenly a glowing green disembodied hand lashes out and squeezes Cupil tightly, dragging it into the throng. Cupil squeals as hungry teeth and terrible claws tear into his essence.

: "Pyaaaagh!"

: "Cupil, NO! Moons...!!"

Glowing yellow with pent-up electricity, Drachma's metal fist smashes into the nightmare gripping Cupil. Blinding bolts of lightning arc out from the point of impact into the surrounding monsters, who squeal and drop their prize in agony. As Cupil floats back over to Fina, Drachma retracts his fist and hefts the mirror with his good arm.

: "I didn't come all this way to go home empty-handed. You ready, Enrique?"

: "Yes. May righteousness be our shield: Shield of Justice!"

A translucent shell of psychic energy forms around each member of the party, vibrating slightly with its power. The tendrils of the spectral squid Vyse is grappling with slide harmlessly off of the shield.

: "Okay, Aika, let's go!"

: "You got it! Fire, consume my enemies!"

Aika slams her boomerang into the ground, and fissures of red light radiate out from its impact point, tracing a path to the door. The ground starts to rumble, and the lines of red light grow more blinding and intense as Aika throws her arms to the sky and yells,

: "LAMBDA BURST!"

The ground below the nightmare's feet erupts in a shower of earth and rock, and hungry lances of fire lash out and sear at the essence of the nightmares.

: "Hah, nice work! Now it's my turn!"

: "HaaaAAAH!"

Vyse's cutlasses start crackling with Yellow energy, and sparks of electricity leap from his blades into the ground surrounding him. With the power of the Yellow moon flowing through him, Vyse leaps high into the air, soaring over the recumbant nightmares below. He points his cutlasses at the monsters and yells,

: "RAIN OF SWORDS!"

Sword-shaped projectiles of electric energy slam into the ground around the monsters, exploding around them and driving them backwards. Amidst the hail of electricity, Vyse drops to the ground and pushes forward.

: "Let's go, people, charge!"

The entire group surges forward, Drachma and Enrique carrying the mirror over their shoulders like a shield. Most of the monsters are too dazed to retaliate, but a sludge monster lumbers over to the door intent on blocking their exit.

: "Outta the way!"

Drachma's fist rockets out and slams against the door, shockwaves pushing back the creature. The party stampedes over to the door, shoulders pressing against the thick metal, urging the rusted hinges to move faster. As the door swings open, a bright and blinding light floods the nightmare chamber, growing brighter and more intense, until...

---

{The Delphinus}

Tracer is kneeling over the sleeping bodies of the Blue Rogues, shaking them gently. Layton, Luke and Flora burst into the room.

: "We came as soon as we heard!"

: *kneels next to Fina* "How are they?"

: "I don't know, they've been like this since I've woken up...I wish I could remember what happened."

: "Hmm...ah! Look!"

One by one, the Blue Rogues slowly open their eyes and sit up, blinking and rubbing their heads...

:"Ach...what happened?"

: "My head..."

: "Did we win?"

: "I think we did. Look!"

Leaning against the wall is the nightmare mirror, shimmering faintly in the light.

: "We did it! Erm, how exactly did we do it again?"

: "I can remember...something about a castle, and a hallway with monsters. It's all so hazy, though..."

: "Ugh, how'd I get these scars on my leg? Did we get attacked?"

: "I thought we were supposed to be protected."

: "Hmm, Tracer? Do you remember what happened?"

: "Uh...I can't remember either, I'm afraid. The important thing is, we've got the nightmare mirror. Job well done, everyone!"

: "Yaaay! So when are you going to write our reward?"

: "Uhh...soon? Don't worry, I'll get around to it."

: "Hmph, you better. I'm going to need some serious vacation time after...whatever that was."

: _{"I feel...cold for some reason."}

: "Me too...I think I should go lay down."

: "Everyone could use some rest, I'll bet. _{Which sounds weird to say coming out of a nap, but...}"

: "I understand. Come on, guys, let's head back to town."

: "All right! Er...Professor? Are you ready to go?"

: "Hm? Oh, yes, quite. Let's head out, shall we?"

: "We'll leave the mirror here for safekeeping, okay?"

: "Fine; we'll guard it with our lives. And be sure to tell us how the investigation progresses."

: "Will do. Thanks again for your help, guys!"