The Fount of Knowledge stared at the crowd—the mob—that had gathered in the lobby of his Spire, and tried not to show how worried he was.
He’d known that problems had been arising…ever since he tried to encourage more of his visitors to think more deeply about the solutions to their problems. To try and get them to see the value in seeking out Knowledge for themselves, not just relying on him for answers!
But not having easy answers had upset a lot of Cookies. He’d learned that rumors had started being spread about him…ones saying that he told lies. That he was a fraud, and not actually one of the Emissaries. He’d been thinking about the problem, trying to figure out a way to show everyone the truth, but hadn’t come up with a perfect solution yet…
And he wouldn’t have the time to at all, it seemed, based on the way the mob was angrily glaring at him. Looking for more answers…or maybe now, all they wanted was his blood.
He could hear muttering from the back…Liar. Fraud. Tricked us. Failed us. A whole chorus of voices, where it was impossible to pick out just who was saying what.
“Come down and face us!” someone at the front of the crowd demanded, holding up a sword. Oh, yes…most of the mob had come carrying weapons. Many of them makeshift, but all ones that could be used to hurt Cookies. To hurt him.
He could control anything in the Spire, except for the Cookies within it. He could put distance between himself and them, but he knew that would do nothing to solve the underlying problem. And yet, seeing the looks on their faces…disappointed, furious…part of him wanted to flee.
That would do nothing but confirm their suspicion, though. No…to make them see the truth, he would need to face this head-on. Even if he felt reluctant doing so. So, with a deep breath, he steeled his nerve and headed downstairs, stopping on a landing of the stairs just above them. A safe but approachable distance, he figured.
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