The Tale Mansion courtyard buzzed. People milled about, staring at the artworks. Jack, Big Bill, and Danny joined the flow. Moving from piece to piece.
Each artwork had a faint, almost invisible shimmer around it. When they got close enough, the shimmer intensified. And the tale hit them. Not as words, but as a burst of feeling, images, sounds. A condensed experience of the story held within.
A large canvas hung on a stone wall. It wasn't static. Colors bled and shifted. Moments in time captured and played out like a sped-up, abstract film.
Jack stepped closer. The tale unfolded.
A young man, paint-stained clothes, starving in a cold and grey attic room. Brushstrokes were hesitant. Then bolder, more confident. He gained recognition. Fame.
He wore rich colors, fine clothes. Then, a sudden, blinding flash of white. Accident. Darkness. The man lost his sight. The tale turned dark. Fumbling hands, spilled paints. Despair. A rope.
The colors faded to grey. Then black. It was a harsh story. Inspiring rise, tragic fall. Brutal end.
"Rough!" Big Bill grunted. Stepping back. His blunt face showed a flicker of sympathy.
"Amazing though." Danny said. His mechanical arm whirring slightly as he gestured. "The way it changes. Like watching a life."
They moved on. Next was a diorama inside a large glass dome. A miniature sailing ship. Cannons. Tiny figures. Monstrous waves crashing against a cliff face.
The tale was full of salt spray and shouting. Cannons roaring. Swords clanging. A rogue captain. A cursed treasure. A chase through a maelstrom. Pure adventure. It was simple, cliché, but exciting.
Then, they saw a clockwork dragon. Its brass scales were gleaming. Sat on a pedestal. Gears whirred softly. Occasionally, a puff of steam, tinged red, escaped its snout. Like miniature fire.
The tale it showed was familiar. Even more cliché than the ship adventure ones. It was about a spoiled princess. Locked in a tower. A scaled dragon was demanding tributes. Knights, in shining armor, challenged and fell one by one. Classic, but lacked depth.
"Bet that took some unconventional engineering." Danny said. Staring at the dragon's intricate joints. "Nice work." He had an appreciation for mechanics.
Another corner held a small, dark wood cabinet. From inside came faint, haunting music. A self-playing mini organ. The tune was mournful. Yet resolute.
The tale was intriguing. It happened in a land shrouded in shadow. A creature of impossible size and hunger appeared. Destroying and consuming everything. Heroes came. Fighting it. And falling to defeat it.
One figure, cloaked and anonymous, stepped forward. Not with a sword, or other weapon, but with a tool. The figure sacrificed himself. The music swelled as he disappeared along with the creature.
The shadow receding. Leaving behind a land scarred but safe. Ignorant of its savior. A forgotten sacrifice. Jack felt a resonance with that. The world often didn't know the price paid for its safety.
Jack and the two brothers continued walking.
They walked past a simple cotton doll. Sitting on a worn wooden stool. It looked plain compared to the clockwork wonders and shifting paintings. But getting close, the tale hit hard.
A cramped, cold room. Laughter, thin and watery. A child, sick and weak. A mother, weary but smiling. Stitching the doll with calloused hands. Moments of shared warmth against a backdrop of hardship.
The doll. A silent witness to love and loss. The tale ended not with a bang. But with a quiet ache.
Big Bill paused in front of it. His large frame seeming to shrink slightly. He just looked at the doll for a long moment. Before moving on without a word.
Jack understood. Some tales didn't need grand battles or magic. The human ones could be the heaviest.
They saw dozens more.
Sculptures that hummed with the energy of creation. Tapestries woven with threads of destiny. Jewelry holding whispers of ancient curses. Every piece possessed at least a story.
Some were grand epics. Spanning continents and generations. Others were intimate whispers. Single moments frozen in time.
Jack absorbed them all like a sponge. He saw the patterns. The common threads of ambition, loss, love, betrayal, courage. These were the raw materials he worked with. The narratives he tried to digest and apply in his own brand of justice.
His favorite piece was towards the back of the courtyard. A life-sized statue. Carved from dark, rough stone. A warrior. Body riddled with stone arrows. Defiant pose. Head held high.
The tale was one of pure, stubborn rebellion. A single person. Standing against an entire kingdom. Arrows tore into his flesh. Collapsing cities was the background.
Countless soldiers surging forward. But the warrior didn't fall. He just stood there. Defiant. Broken in body, but unbroken in spirit. The tale didn't show victory. Only resistance.
Jack appreciated resistance. He appreciated defiance in the face of overwhelming power. It felt somehow familiar.
They spent hours exploring. The sun tracked across the sky. The sheer volume and intensity of the tales were overwhelming.
By late afternoon, their minds were saturated. They took a brief break. Stepping outside the manor grounds to a simple setup selling food and drinks. Lunch was quick and functional. Then, they were back inside.
The crowd was beginning to gather. In the huge central hall of the mansion. The hall itself was imposing. High vaulted ceilings lost in shadow. Massive pillars carved with swirling patterns.
A raised platform stood at one end. Currently empty. This was where the announcement would be made.
Jack, Danny, and Big Bill found a spot near the back. Leaning against a cool stone wall. The air in the hall was thick with anticipation. The collective hopes and anxieties of hundreds of creators hung heavy.
Finally, a figure stepped onto the raised platform. It was the butler from the entrance. He moved with the same precise, almost unnerving smoothness. His face remained impassive. He carried no notes. No list.
"Welcome, participants and viewers!" The butler's voice echoed. Amplified somehow to fill the vast space. It was still devoid of warmth. "The Collector has reviewed the submissions. The tales have been judged."
A collective intake of breath from the crowd.
"The three artworks chosen to remain within the Tale Mansion, for the quality of their tales, and whose creators will receive the Taleweaving Fruits, are as follows..."
He paused for effect. Scanning the crowd with eyes that seemed to see everything.
"The first winning number is... Number 6. With the artwork: Miracle Sphere."
A ripple went through the crowd. Some murmuring, pointing. A small woman near the front, dressed in intricate, colorful robes, gasped. She covered her mouth with her hand. Trembling.
"The second winning number is... Number 48. With the artwork: Jack O'Lantern."
Jack felt a jolt. Number 48. That was his number. He exchanged a look with Big Bill. A silent nod passing between them. Danny grinned. Clapping him on the shoulder a little too hard.
"Alright, Jack!" Danny said. Excitement plain in his voice.
Jack just nodded. Eyes fixed on the butler. He hadn't expected it. Not really. He'd put great tales into the lamp. But there were many artworks in the exhibition he had seen that were much better than his.
"And the third winning number is... Number 27. With the artwork: Undersea Painting."
Another reaction from the crowd. A stern-faced man with a long beard, standing not far from Jack, gave a curt nod. And adjusted his spectacles.
"Numbers 6, 48, and 27." The butler repeated. "Please step forward."
The woman in the colorful robes, Jack, and the man with the long beard made their way through the crowd. Towards the platform. Jack felt the eyes of hundreds on him. Some were curious, some envious, some just observing.
He kept his expression neutral. His Steamrune Shotgun slung comfortably over his back under his coat. Handguns holstered at his sides. He didn't let his vigilance go away. Anything could happen.
They reached the platform. And stood before the butler. Big Bill and Danny watched from the edge of the crowd.
"Follow me!" The butler instructed. Turning and walking towards a discreet door behind the platform.
The three winners followed. The door led into a hushed corridor. Thickly carpeted, muffling their footsteps. The air here felt different. Cooler. Older.
They walked in silence. The weight of their win settling upon them. Jack thought about the Fruit. A talent improvement. What would it do for him? Improve his Steamrune Engineering power? His spectral abilities? He didn't know.
The butler stopped before a heavy wooden door. It was intricately carved with symbols Jack didn't recognize. He opened it and gestured them inside.
The room was small, austere. A single polished table occupied the center. On the table sat three small, glowing objects.
They looked like oversized berries. Radiating a soft, warm light. They were slightly transparent. And within each of them, faint, swirling patterns could be seen. Like tiny galaxies.
"The prizes. Taleweaving Fruits." The butler stated. His voice flat. "My suggestion is... consume them now. Do not attempt to leave this room with them. The Collector won't be responsible of anything that happens to them afterward if you take them out."
His meaning was clear. They should eat them here and now. Or they could take them out and face the risk themselves.
The woman in robes reached out first. Her hand still trembling slightly with excitement. She picked up one of the fruits. Brought it to her lips. And bit into it.
A faint glow enveloped her for a second. And her eyes widened.
The man with the beard took the second fruit. He examined it for a moment. A look of contemplation appeared on his face. But he snapped out in just a second.
He popped the whole thing into his mouth. Chewing deliberately. He closed his eyes. A faint smile touching his lips.
Jack took the third fruit. It felt cool and smooth in his hand. Vibrating with a subtle energy. He looked at it for a moment. He had come seeking a strange prize. Drawn by the power of tales. It was exactly what he had got.
He brought the Fruit to his mouth. It had no discernible scent. He put it in his mouth. Chewed it. And then swallowed it. A strange sensation, like warm liquid light, flooded his body.
And then, a system notification appeared in his sight...
[TALEWEAVING FRUIT CONSUMED! NEW TALENT ACQUIRED!]