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Description
     They waited calmly for the door to open, as Halfturn said it would eventually.
     They did not talk. Iggy seemed to be preparing himself for his meeting mentally, closing his eyes and sitting on the cold black floor to one side of the door.
     Forthright just waited. He was curious, but not worked up into a lather the way Halfturn was.
     Then, as if guided by some unseen hand, the door slid inward on oiled hinges of its own accord. There was nobody standing there, just the chambers within.
     Halfturn said, “Let's go. We don't want to keep him waiting.”
     Forthright didn't doubt it. He entered behind Halfturn, wondering what he would find behind the single door.
     As he entered the chamber, he was astounded firstly by the smells. The air without the room had been dry and electrified, smelling of ozone and volcanic heat. The air inside was humid and cool, and smelled of loam and greenhouses, of healthy and living things.
     As he stepped inward, he saw why this was so. The room seemed, completely at odds with the external architecture, to be made entirely of living or previously living materials. It was as if they had stepped inside the trunk of a massive, breathing tree. Forthright was amazed at the sudden change in overall attitude and feel of the environment.
     The room was roughly circular, the walls were made of pure, true brown wood, as was the floor. Neither the latter or the former were polished or finished in any way. From the walls at random spots boughs and branches bearing all kinds of leaves and fruits sprang forth. Potted plants of all kinds were distributed about, and in places flowers and other flora would grow from small gaps in the floor were there were plots of brown earth.
     Furniture was spread thickly throughout the chamber. Comfortable-looking and well used armchairs were in abundance, as were tables, cabinets, and shelves bearing all kinds of things that were useful for living a life in such a place. One table held strange-looking scientific equipment that bubbled and sparked, another table held piles and piles of files and paperwork that had found their way onto the floor in more than one spot.
     Set into the wall, made of smooth and uncreased wood, were several more doors, presumably leading off to other rooms, considering that there were neither bed nor privy to be seen.
     Forthright and Halfturn drank it in, marveling at the contraptions and plants that filled the room. As they reveled in the chamber's quaint beauty, they nearly forgot a critical yet missing component.
     There was no one else in the room.
     Forthright glanced around, befuddled by the fact that they were alone. He looked at Iggy inquisitively, who shrugged cluelessly. They were hesitant to break the tentative silence that pervaded the hall.
     In the center of the room where there was no furniture or any other kind of clutter, a bright nimbus of light blossomed in midair. It hovered as the two stared at it, and began to glow brighter. Then, without warning and with a great boom and brightness it detonated, sending papers flying and forcing Forthright and Halfturn to shield their eyes.
     As the light dimmed, and as the two men regained their ability to see, they saw indeed what was left behind by the explosion.
     It was a small cactus. It stood proudly but diminutively in a tiny terracotta pot. It didn't do anything besides exist, which frankly disappointed the two interdimensional travelers.
     However, it then defied expectations by speaking. Its voice was deep and powerful, with a hint of great age and experience. “Hello, and welcome to my tower! I hope the two of you found your journey not too unsettling. Please, have a seat, make yourselves at home!”
     Two insistently comfortable armchairs pushed themselves against the calves of the two, urging them to sit. They did so, and the chairs stopped moving.
     They sat, but they did not understand several things that were happening at the moment.
     The cactus proclaimed, “So! I know the two of you have come a long way, and I understand that you have some questions for me. Or rather, one of you does. While I send off for refreshments for the lot of us, why don't we get started? I know you must be positively close to bursting with inquisitions at this point.”
     The cactus, quite obviously, didn't know the half of it.
     Forthright started with the most pressing issue at hand. “Sir, I recognize that you are indeed very powerful and very wise, but I do not understand why... well, this is hard to put into words... Ah, why, perchance, are you come in such a... Well, you see-”
     Iggy cut in with, “Why are you a cactus?”
     If it had been able, the cactus would have then looked itself up and down inquisitively, but it couldn't, so it didn't. It merely said, “Why am I a what?”
     Iggy repeated, “A cactus. Why are you a cactus.”
     The little spiky plant said, mystified, “... Am I, really?”
     “Yes. Yes you are.”
     “Oh. Well, that's rather silly. Excuse me for a moment, if you will.”
     The cactus disappeared.
     As the two were contemplating this, little end-tables laden with glasses and trays full of food and drink busied themselves by nudging against their elbows. They ignored them until both their hunger and the sheer perseverance of the tables forced them to partake. The liquid was a simple yet refreshing cordial, and the food was slices of fruit with various breads and cheeses.  They ate ponderously, wondering where the mysterious sage could have gone, and if he was in trouble.
     After about a quarter of an hour, a small pop was heard from the center of the room, followed by a flash of white light.
     Forthright and Halfturn looked over and saw the man they had come to see, this time in a form that was easy to understand.
     Before them stood a towering man that was currently looking down to brush some ether ash off of his robe, which was a flowing, coarse and brick red affair with a high collar. His face was ashen and gray, with a long, hooked nose and a pointed chin. His salt-and-pepper mustache hung low across his chest, and his roped and plaited beard was tucked into his belt. His eyes were hidden by a pair of leather-strapped goggles, and his hair frizzed and blew out in random directions. He walked toward the two, his heavy boots clunking with each step. He then snapped his fingers once he was about seven feet from his guests.
     Forthright and Halfturn had no idea what the finger snap meant, as nothing happened.
     The robed man looked quizzically at his hand, and tried the snap again. Nothing. He sighed and looked at his watch, clearly waiting for something.
     The tension, felt only on one side of the room, was mounting.
     Then, a rustle and a few clanks were heard from off to one side of the large chamber. Piles of paper upended, tables got knocked into and various instruments were upset as something made its way over toward the bearded man.
     As it cleared the morass of clutter and broke into the circle of cleanliness, Forthright and Halfturn saw that it was a chair, bustling its way over on wheels. It was a cushioned, leathery piece that was clearly very worried at the moment. It scooted up to the goggled man and he sat down in it. Halfturn could have sworn he heard a sigh of relief from the chair.
     They each sat in awkward silence for a moment. They couldn't see his eyes, but Halfturn and Forthright had the feeling that the robed man was sizing them up for some reason.
     He spoke in the same voice that the cactus had, “Well. I apologize for the lateness of myself and my chair. I do hope you enjoyed the refreshments in the meantime.”
     Forthright said, “Oh yes, they were quite good. Thank you.”
     Halfturn was having difficulty keeping control of himself. His expenditure of energy at the door had calmed him down, but he was beginning to amp up and lose patience. His left eyebrow twitched.
     The bearded man said, “First, I suppose I shall introduce myself. My name is Udolnecht the Low, and I am the one that summoned you here. Which should be obvious at this point. You found the car, climbed my tower, and broke my seven locks, which are only breakable by some form of arcana. I'm surprised. It seems that my teachings over great distances were not lost on the nonexistent ears of the Faceless One. Mr. Halfturn, I'm glad to see that you've made it.”
     Iggy smiled. Praise was good.
     “And who is this that you've brought with you?”
     Iggy said, “This is Hitherto Forthright, Low One. I allowed him to accompany me, I thought he may be of some use.”
     Just then, time froze for Forthright and the man called Udolnecht. Iggy was suspended motionless, as was the rest of the chamber. All machinery stopped, silence stormed, and all color drained from the room as if from a siphon.
     A voice blasted through Forthright's mind, the same voice that belonged to Udolnecht. It was loud enough to blur the outlines of all the objects in the room and nearly cause blindness.
     He said, “Hitherto Forthright. I know you have come here for a reason. You always come for a reason. Know that you are not trusted in these halls, and you never will be until time comes as such that you have proven yourself to the Ones and Multiple once again. Be wary. This building does not house you with pleasure.”
     As the shockwaves of the sonic assault dissipated, Forthright smiled in a small way. If anyone had been paying close attention to his eyes, they may have seen a hint of some kind of color in them, a glint of sorts, but it was impossible to tell what color it was, as though they were shards of an unseen rainbow. It faded, as he said in a voice that was barely audible compared to the one before it, “I understand that the Colorless One would not be allowed once more in the halls. But you must understand something, as well. The one I have brought with me, the one that you have been conversing with, could very well be the second coming of the Blazing One. You have read the signs. You know that what I say could be true. If this Faceless One is truly the Blazing One unformed, then it will take a special kind of arcana to bring about his Tempering. I am the Colorless One. You know my abilities.”
     The thundering voice returned, “We shall see, Verulum Khosaiyl. It will take time. Heed what I have said. Do not take part in any... undue actions. Retribution is much swifter from your side of the wall.”
     “Yes, Low One.”
     Color spilled into the world in splashes as the machines whirred back to life in gratifying gusts of sound and motion. Forthright breathed a sigh of relief. Halfturn glared at him.
     Udolnecht replied in his usual voice, as if nothing had happened, “Hmm. He may be of some use, you are right. I'm sure it will come to light eventually.” His expression did not change, but underneath his goggles, his eyes told a different story. So the Colorless One had returned to the halls of the Ones and Multiple. And the Blazing One was almost visible on the horizon. Things were afoot, but Udolnecht could not foresee whether they were to be good or bad.

Description
     They waited calmly for the door to open, as Halfturn said it would eventually.
     They did not talk. Iggy seemed to be preparing himself for his meeting mentally, closing his eyes and sitting on the cold black floor to one side of the door.
     Forthright just waited. He was curious, but not worked up into a lather the way Halfturn was.
     Then, as if guided by some unseen hand, the door slid inward on oiled hinges of its own accord. There was nobody standing there, just the chambers within.
     Halfturn said, “Let's go. We don't want to keep him waiting.”
     Forthright didn't doubt it. He entered behind Halfturn, wondering what he would find behind the single door.
     As he entered the chamber, he was astounded firstly by the smells. The air without the room had been dry and electrified, smelling of ozone and volcanic heat. The air inside was humid and cool, and smelled of loam and greenhouses, of healthy and living things.
     As he stepped inward, he saw why this was so. The room seemed, completely at odds with the external architecture, to be made entirely of living or previously living materials. It was as if they had stepped inside the trunk of a massive, breathing tree. Forthright was amazed at the sudden change in overall attitude and feel of the environment.
     The room was roughly circular, the walls were made of pure, true brown wood, as was the floor. Neither the latter or the former were polished or finished in any way. From the walls at random spots boughs and branches bearing all kinds of leaves and fruits sprang forth. Potted plants of all kinds were distributed about, and in places flowers and other flora would grow from small gaps in the floor were there were plots of brown earth.
     Furniture was spread thickly throughout the chamber. Comfortable-looking and well used armchairs were in abundance, as were tables, cabinets, and shelves bearing all kinds of things that were useful for living a life in such a place. One table held strange-looking scientific equipment that bubbled and sparked, another table held piles and piles of files and paperwork that had found their way onto the floor in more than one spot.
     Set into the wall, made of smooth and uncreased wood, were several more doors, presumably leading off to other rooms, considering that there were neither bed nor privy to be seen.
     Forthright and Halfturn drank it in, marveling at the contraptions and plants that filled the room. As they reveled in the chamber's quaint beauty, they nearly forgot a critical yet missing component.
     There was no one else in the room.
     Forthright glanced around, befuddled by the fact that they were alone. He looked at Iggy inquisitively, who shrugged cluelessly. They were hesitant to break the tentative silence that pervaded the hall.
     In the center of the room where there was no furniture or any other kind of clutter, a bright nimbus of light blossomed in midair. It hovered as the two stared at it, and began to glow brighter. Then, without warning and with a great boom and brightness it detonated, sending papers flying and forcing Forthright and Halfturn to shield their eyes.
     As the light dimmed, and as the two men regained their ability to see, they saw indeed what was left behind by the explosion.
     It was a small cactus. It stood proudly but diminutively in a tiny terracotta pot. It didn't do anything besides exist, which frankly disappointed the two interdimensional travelers.
     However, it then defied expectations by speaking. Its voice was deep and powerful, with a hint of great age and experience. “Hello, and welcome to my tower! I hope the two of you found your journey not too unsettling. Please, have a seat, make yourselves at home!”
     Two insistently comfortable armchairs pushed themselves against the calves of the two, urging them to sit. They did so, and the chairs stopped moving.
     They sat, but they did not understand several things that were happening at the moment.
     The cactus proclaimed, “So! I know the two of you have come a long way, and I understand that you have some questions for me. Or rather, one of you does. While I send off for refreshments for the lot of us, why don't we get started? I know you must be positively close to bursting with inquisitions at this point.”
     The cactus, quite obviously, didn't know the half of it.
     Forthright started with the most pressing issue at hand. “Sir, I recognize that you are indeed very powerful and very wise, but I do not understand why... well, this is hard to put into words... Ah, why, perchance, are you come in such a... Well, you see-”
     Iggy cut in with, “Why are you a cactus?”
     If it had been able, the cactus would have then looked itself up and down inquisitively, but it couldn't, so it didn't. It merely said, “Why am I a what?”
     Iggy repeated, “A cactus. Why are you a cactus.”
     The little spiky plant said, mystified, “... Am I, really?”
     “Yes. Yes you are.”
     “Oh. Well, that's rather silly. Excuse me for a moment, if you will.”
     The cactus disappeared.
     As the two were contemplating this, little end-tables laden with glasses and trays full of food and drink busied themselves by nudging against their elbows. They ignored them until both their hunger and the sheer perseverance of the tables forced them to partake. The liquid was a simple yet refreshing cordial, and the food was slices of fruit with various breads and cheeses.  They ate ponderously, wondering where the mysterious sage could have gone, and if he was in trouble.
     After about a quarter of an hour, a small pop was heard from the center of the room, followed by a flash of white light.
     Forthright and Halfturn looked over and saw the man they had come to see, this time in a form that was easy to understand.
     Before them stood a towering man that was currently looking down to brush some ether ash off of his robe, which was a flowing, coarse and brick red affair with a high collar. His face was ashen and gray, with a long, hooked nose and a pointed chin. His salt-and-pepper mustache hung low across his chest, and his roped and plaited beard was tucked into his belt. His eyes were hidden by a pair of leather-strapped goggles, and his hair frizzed and blew out in random directions. He walked toward the two, his heavy boots clunking with each step. He then snapped his fingers once he was about seven feet from his guests.
     Forthright and Halfturn had no idea what the finger snap meant, as nothing happened.
     The robed man looked quizzically at his hand, and tried the snap again. Nothing. He sighed and looked at his watch, clearly waiting for something.
     The tension, felt only on one side of the room, was mounting.
     Then, a rustle and a few clanks were heard from off to one side of the large chamber. Piles of paper upended, tables got knocked into and various instruments were upset as something made its way over toward the bearded man.
     As it cleared the morass of clutter and broke into the circle of cleanliness, Forthright and Halfturn saw that it was a chair, bustling its way over on wheels. It was a cushioned, leathery piece that was clearly very worried at the moment. It scooted up to the goggled man and he sat down in it. Halfturn could have sworn he heard a sigh of relief from the chair.
     They each sat in awkward silence for a moment. They couldn't see his eyes, but Halfturn and Forthright had the feeling that the robed man was sizing them up for some reason.
     He spoke in the same voice that the cactus had, “Well. I apologize for the lateness of myself and my chair. I do hope you enjoyed the refreshments in the meantime.”
     Forthright said, “Oh yes, they were quite good. Thank you.”
     Halfturn was having difficulty keeping control of himself. His expenditure of energy at the door had calmed him down, but he was beginning to amp up and lose patience. His left eyebrow twitched.
     The bearded man said, “First, I suppose I shall introduce myself. My name is Udolnecht the Low, and I am the one that summoned you here. Which should be obvious at this point. You found the car, climbed my tower, and broke my seven locks, which are only breakable by some form of arcana. I'm surprised. It seems that my teachings over great distances were not lost on the nonexistent ears of the Faceless One. Mr. Halfturn, I'm glad to see that you've made it.”
     Iggy smiled. Praise was good.
     “And who is this that you've brought with you?”
     Iggy said, “This is Hitherto Forthright, Low One. I allowed him to accompany me, I thought he may be of some use.”
     Just then, time froze for Forthright and the man called Udolnecht. Iggy was suspended motionless, as was the rest of the chamber. All machinery stopped, silence stormed, and all color drained from the room as if from a siphon.
     A voice blasted through Forthright's mind, the same voice that belonged to Udolnecht. It was loud enough to blur the outlines of all the objects in the room and nearly cause blindness.
     He said, “Hitherto Forthright. I know you have come here for a reason. You always come for a reason. Know that you are not trusted in these halls, and you never will be until time comes as such that you have proven yourself to the Ones and Multiple once again. Be wary. This building does not house you with pleasure.”
     As the shockwaves of the sonic assault dissipated, Forthright smiled in a small way. If anyone had been paying close attention to his eyes, they may have seen a hint of some kind of color in them, a glint of sorts, but it was impossible to tell what color it was, as though they were shards of an unseen rainbow. It faded, as he said in a voice that was barely audible compared to the one before it, “I understand that the Colorless One would not be allowed once more in the halls. But you must understand something, as well. The one I have brought with me, the one that you have been conversing with, could very well be the second coming of the Blazing One. You have read the signs. You know that what I say could be true. If this Faceless One is truly the Blazing One unformed, then it will take a special kind of arcana to bring about his Tempering. I am the Colorless One. You know my abilities.”
     The thundering voice returned, “We shall see, Verulum Khosaiyl. It will take time. Heed what I have said. Do not take part in any... undue actions. Retribution is much swifter from your side of the wall.”
     “Yes, Low One.”
     Color spilled into the world in splashes as the machines whirred back to life in gratifying gusts of sound and motion. Forthright breathed a sigh of relief. Halfturn glared at him.
     Udolnecht replied in his usual voice, as if nothing had happened, “Hmm. He may be of some use, you are right. I'm sure it will come to light eventually.” His expression did not change, but underneath his goggles, his eyes told a different story. So the Colorless One had returned to the halls of the Ones and Multiple. And the Blazing One was almost visible on the horizon. Things were afoot, but Udolnecht could not foresee whether they were to be good or bad.