Zeroth Directive

Archive III

Bena doesn't shy from telling others just what her duty in the Castle is. Just as we'd conjectured, she is the one in charge of the preservation technique for belongings, and through her handling, the lifespans of things sent to the Castle can far exceed the original limit of their existence. However, should anyone attempt to look into details of her technique, she will make use of every childlike technique to avoid talking about the particulars, including but not limited to: dour refusal, blank ignorance, instant lapse of memory, etc., etc. Thanks to her reactions being far too amusing for their own good, some go out of their way to raise this topic with her, but anyone Bena or Annie sees through will soon suffer the practical tomfoolery of a little Caprinae and her doll together. At this stage, one can put the Caprinae prankmaster out of their mind, because most of the time, the one putting plans into practice is the ordinarily quiet, unspeaking doll Annie. 'I'm warning you, never, ever treat Annie as some ordinary doll. She—forgive me for using 'she' rather than 'it' to refer to Annie—she can speak, think, is capable of lone operation far from Bena, and aside from clear spherical joints and a notable gap in personality, fundamentally differs none from Bena at all. Moreover, though she's reserved with speech, her curiosity is exuberant. When not by Bena's side, she'll roam about Rhodes Island wherever on her own, and should she find something interesting, she'll stay there and quietly watch, saying nothing. People are frequently startled by Annie, and some inquisitive people will instruct Annie personally. At times, Annie will be so absorbed in observation that she'll forget to return to Bena's side, who as a master of sorts will scramble about Rhodes Island searching for her doll, then finally find her Annie nestled in some room focused on something all too keenly.' 'I know the description above might not seem too frightening. That's because I've only written about how Annie ordinarily acts. If you antagonize her and Bena, Bena will tell Annie absolutely every last horrid idea off the top of her head, and Annie will then spend days, possibly even up to months, carrying these plans out on you without a break.' 'Believe me, you don't want to try. In terms of build and potential to harm, she has Morte beat by miles.' —Independently compiled by a Rhodes Island archivist Operator

Archive IV

Roam, lost lamb, without a way, so worn and parched her stomach brays. Home so far, kindred unknown, name all gone, lost years ago. Roam, lost lamb, without a way, not even loved by Feline may. Come a night with stormy rain, thunder and lightning fierce— The little lamb sits 'neath the eaves, with hollow belly's fears. And plop! she hears from somewhere off, a person's tripped and fell— An oldly lady, rushing home, has slipped, and is unwell. No-one around this roaring rain takes note, or has a mind to pay— 'Oh Granny, Granny, are you fine? Is everything okay?' The little lamb, her heart so warm, lone helper from afar— 'Thank you, thank you, little lamb, so darling kind you are. The rain is pouring, quickly now—go home and bless your soul—' Yet great and vast the city runs, the lamb without abode. 'Come to my house, then, come with me. Take rest beyond the rain.' She shakes off dry, she nods, and goes to Granny's place to stay. A basket full of ripe red fruit, she hands the lamb to bear— The apples, slicked, perfume so sweet, her mind so wide aware. She swallows down her hunger, by her shoulder lifts the weave— And once at Granny's door, the rain has soaked her to a freeze. But Granny doesn't mind, and brings her to the dining space— 'Sit now, darling little lamb, sit down and take your place. I'm off upstairs to take a bath. I'll be right back posthaste.' Then Granny leaves behind the lamb, to sit there all alone. The food is rich, laid wide in front—her mind and stomach groan. She swallows down another ache, and waits for Granny wise. She waits, and waits, and waits until she faints from hunger's cries. She wakes again after some time, now lying in a bed. She's clean and dry, and by her side, all wondrous food is spread. She's filled with such a warmth inside, and Granny's tickled pink— 'Eat, now, eat, poor little lamb, there's no more need to think. You'll never want for food or drink, if you come by my side.' 'Oh, why? Oh, why?' the lamb now asks, and asks again, eyes wide. 'Because, my dear, once storms clears up, the apples washed by rain— Are sweetest of them all.' And Granny laughs, and laughs away. —Extract from 'The Jeffreys Collection of Fairytales New and Old' 'Granny said this was a fairytale from Victoria's past. But why do I feel like it's about me?' —Bena 'The story's older than Granny.' —Annie

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