Chapter 2: Family Tensions

  Marvin's first morning in London began with him reorganizing Phillip's guest room into what he called a "field research headquarters." By the time Phillip checked on him at 9 AM, Marvin had created an elaborate wall display using Post-it notes, red yarn, and pages from his research journal. The yarn connected various London landmarks on a map, forming an intricate web that resembled either a conspiracy theorist's masterpiece or a child's art project, depending on one's perspective.

  "What exactly am I looking at?" Phillip asked, coffee cup frozen halfway to his lips.

  Marvin stood back to admire his work. "A comprehensive mapping of London's dimensional thin points and their correlation to historical anomalies." He gestured to a particularly dense cluster of yarn. "This section here shows a significant increase in reported ghost sightings in areas where ley lines intersect. Can't be coincidence."

  Phillip took a long, fortifying sip of coffee. "You do realize Victoria is having the Hartmans over for brunch in an hour?"

  "The German investors?" Marvin didn't look away from his map. "Perfect. Herr Hartman might have insights about Teutonic folklore. The Germanic peoples documented fairy encounters as early as—"

  "Marvin," Phillip interrupted, his voice taking on the strained quality of someone explaining to a child why they can't bring their pet tarantula to a funeral. "The Hartmans are here to discuss a potential partnership that could mean millions for the firm. What they are not here to discuss is whether Hansel and Gretel was a historical account of interdimensional travel."

  Marvin turned to his brother with sincere confusion. "But what if it was?"

  "It wasn't." Phillip pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, I need this brunch to go well. Victoria is already stressed about the dinner tonight. Could you perhaps... take down the red string theory for a few hours?"

  Marvin considered this. "I suppose I could conduct field research today. Hyde Park is only..." he consulted his map, "...a dimensional nexus point away."

  "Excellent. Hyde Park. Far away from brunch. Perfect." Phillip's relief was palpable. "Just be back by six for dinner."

  "Oh, I'll definitely be back by then." Marvin carefully removed a ceremonial dagger from his improvised display board. "Wouldn't want to miss your mysterious surprise."

  "About that—" Phillip began, but was interrupted by Victoria calling up the stairs.

  "Phillip! Can you help with the table settings?"

  "Coming!" Phillip called back. He gave Marvin a parting look that combined affection, exasperation, and mild dread. "Just... be careful with those daggers in public, alright?"

  Marvin slid the dagger into a leather sheath he'd attached to his belt. "Fear not, brother. I'm proficient in Blades: Level 3."

  Phillip opened his mouth, closed it again, then simply nodded and retreated downstairs.

  After Phillip left, Marvin carefully returned the second dagger to its velvet box and tucked it into his backpack alongside his journal, a compass, three different colored pens, a bag of trail mix (for emergency rations), and a plastic water bottle with "Potion of Hydration" written on it in permanent marker. He put on his jacket—a windbreaker with an embroidered dragon on the back—and approached the window.

  The gardens behind Phillip's townhouse were immaculate, with manicured hedges and stone pathways. They also offered a clear escape route that would bypass the incoming investors. Marvin opened the window and looked down. Two stories wasn't so bad. In "Dungeon Delvers IV," his character routinely survived falls from much greater heights with only minimal damage.

  "Roll for dexterity," he whispered to himself, then swung his leg over the windowsill.

  Downstairs, Victoria was arranging mimosas on a silver tray when she heard a muffled thud and rustling from the garden. She moved to the window just in time to see Marvin rolling across the lawn in what appeared to be a practiced combat maneuver, before popping up with his arms raised in triumph.

  "Did he just..." she turned to Phillip, who had entered with the requested table settings.

  "Jump out the window?" Phillip finished, following her gaze. "Probably. Let's consider it a blessing."

  Victoria watched as Marvin spotted them through the window, gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up, and disappeared around the corner of the hedge. "You know," she said thoughtfully, "there's something rather freeing about your brother's... unique perspective."

  Phillip nearly dropped the plates. "Please don't encourage him."

  "I'm just saying, he's absolutely authentic. No pretense at all."

  "Yes, well, authenticity is wonderful until it costs you the Hartman account." Phillip began laying out the place settings with military precision. "Did you remember to hide the daggers I got him? I'm worried he might show them to investors as proof of his 'adventuring credentials.'"

  Victoria's eyes widened slightly. "Those daggers were real?"

  "Of course they're real. They're antiques."

  "I thought they were props for his... game thing tonight."

  "That too. I got them from that shop on Portobello Road." Phillip straightened a fork. "They're authentic ceremonial pieces, but they're also perfect for the immersive experience I've arranged."

  Victoria shook her head. "You gave your fantasy-obsessed brother, who believes in fairy portals, actual weapons."

  "They're barely sharpened," Phillip defended. "And anyway, they're probably safer with him than that light-up plastic sword he brought last time. At least these won't make whooshing noises when he swings them around."

  The doorbell rang, ending further discussion of Marvin's armaments. Victoria smoothed her dress and put on her hostess smile. "We'll talk about this later."

  "Can't wait," Phillip muttered as he followed her to greet their guests.

  Meanwhile, Marvin was navigating the streets of Kensington with the focused intensity of an explorer in uncharted territory. He consulted his journal frequently, occasionally stopping to make notes or check compass readings. Fellow pedestrians gave him a wide berth, particularly when he would suddenly kneel to examine a crack in the sidewalk or place his hand against a stone wall with his eyes closed, as if listening for something.

  His systematic search for thin places led him to Hyde Park by mid-morning. The park sprawled before him, green and inviting under the spring sunshine. According to his research, the Serpentine Bridge marked the intersection of two significant ley lines, creating what Marvin had labeled in his journal as a "Class II Dimensional Weakness."

  As he approached the bridge, Marvin felt a slight tingle at the back of his neck. "Dimensional resonance," he murmured, making a note. "Subject experiences physical sensation when approaching thin place. Possible psionic attunement?"

  He didn't notice the well-dressed man who had been carefully following him since Kensington High Street, maintaining a discreet distance.

  The man wore an immaculate gray suit with a crisp pocket square and carried a leather briefcase that seemed too heavy for its size. Despite his refined appearance, there was something distinctly imposing about his physique—unusually broad-shouldered and standing well over six feet tall, with hands that seemed slightly too large for even his substantial frame. His movements were precise, his gaze steady and evaluating. A faint scar ran from his right temple down to his jaw, partially concealed by expert grooming. To a casual observer, he might have been a banker or lawyer enjoying a morning constitutional. To someone more observant, there was something predatory in the way he tracked Marvin's erratic movements through the park.

  While Marvin knelt by the water's edge, muttering about "elemental congruence patterns," the man settled onto a bench with a clear view and opened his briefcase. Inside was a sophisticated camera with a telephoto lens, which he assembled with practiced efficiency. He began taking photographs of Marvin, the camera clicking softly as he documented the strange American's activities.

  Unaware of his surveillance, Marvin continued his research, eventually settling cross-legged under a tree to update his journal. "Hyde Park thin place assessment," he wrote. "Preliminary readings suggest moderate dimensional permeability. No visual distortions observed, but significant psychic resonance experienced by subject. Recommend night observation for optimal conditions when dimensional barriers typically weaken."

  He paused, his attention momentarily captured by a family passing by—a father patiently listening as his young son enthusiastically explained something about dinosaurs. Marvin smiled wistfully. It reminded him of how Phillip used to listen to his elaborate fantasy stories when they were kids, back before college and banking and "proper adult concerns" had created the chasm between them. Marvin had been twelve when Phillip was born, old enough to feel more like a third parent than a brother sometimes. He remembered reading "The Hobbit" to seven-year-old Phillip, who would demand dragon voices and ask endless questions about Middle-earth. Somewhere along the way, Phillip had outgrown the magic while Marvin never had.

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  His stomach growled, interrupting his scientific documentation. Marvin checked his watch—nearly 2 PM. He'd been so absorbed in his research that he'd forgotten lunch. Rummaging in his backpack, he retrieved his trail mix and "Potion of Hydration."

  "Restore health points," he declared before taking a long drink of water.

  On the bench, the man in the gray suit placed a call. "Yes, I have him in sight," he said in a low voice, his accent crisp and formal with a subtle, rumbling undertone that didn't quite match his human appearance. "He appears to be... documenting something." A pause. "No, sir. He's alone. Just talking to himself and writing in a notebook." Another pause. "Yes, he's armed. Some kind of dagger. Ceremonial, by the look of it." He shifted, revealing teeth that seemed just slightly too sharp when he spoke into the phone. "Understood. I'll continue surveillance. Gruknor out."

  Marvin spent the next few hours methodically exploring the park, blissfully unaware of being tracked. By late afternoon, his journal contained six new pages of observations, a sketch of what he believed to be a fairy ring (though most would identify it as an ordinary mushroom patch), and a pressed leaf that had "unusual aura coloration."

  As the sun began its descent, Marvin reluctantly packed up his research materials. Phillip's dinner with the German investors would be starting soon, and while Marvin had only the vaguest interest in financial discussions, he was intensely curious about the "immersive" surprise his brother had planned.

  He made his way back to Kensington, stopping occasionally to investigate promising alleyways or ancient-looking doorways. Behind him, always maintaining a careful distance, the gray-suited man followed.

  Marvin arrived at Phillip's townhouse just as the Hartmans' taxi was pulling away. He bounded up the front steps and let himself in with the spare key Phillip had provided, calling out as he entered, "Hail and well met, household!"

  In the dining room, Phillip and Victoria were clearing the remains of what appeared to have been an elegant dinner. Phillip's face showed the strain of a day spent navigating between professional obligations and anxiety about his brother's whereabouts.

  "There you are," Phillip said, relief and tension warring in his voice. "I was beginning to think you'd fallen through one of your thin places."

  "Almost!" Marvin replied enthusiastically. "I found a genuine Class II Dimensional Weakness at Hyde Park. The vibrational frequency was off the charts." He dropped his backpack on an antique chair and began pulling out his journal. "Let me show you the readings—"

  "Perhaps later," Victoria interjected smoothly, saving an expensive vase from Marvin's expansive gesturing. "How was your day of exploration?"

  "Productive. I've mapped three potential crossover points and collected empirical data on ley line convergences." Marvin finally noticed the formal table settings and remnants of what must have been a sophisticated meal. "How was the investor dinner?"

  "Brunch," Phillip corrected. "The dinner is tonight."

  Marvin blinked. "But the Germans—"

  "Were here for brunch. Tonight is dinner with the Whitfields and the Changs."

  "Oh." Marvin processed this information. "So I'm still meant to be elsewhere tonight?"

  "Yes," Phillip confirmed, checking his watch. "And speaking of which, we should get you ready. Your... experience... begins at 8 PM."

  "My immersive fantasy adventure!" Marvin's face lit up. "I brought proper adventuring gear." He patted the dagger at his belt.

  Victoria shot Phillip a look that clearly said, "I told you so."

  "Yes, well," Phillip cleared his throat. "About that. What I've arranged is called a LARP—Live Action Role Playing. It's an interactive experience where you'll play a character in a fantasy scenario."

  Marvin's eyes widened. "Like a real-life RPG? With quests and everything?"

  "Exactly," Phillip nodded, relieved at his brother's enthusiasm. "It's called 'Realm of Enchantment,' and it's supposed to be quite elaborate. You'll be given a role to play, and there will be actors portraying various characters. The experience is designed to feel like you're actually in a fantasy world."

  "But it's not real magic," Victoria added quickly, perhaps concerned that the distinction needed to be clear.

  Marvin gave her a knowing wink. "Of course not. 'Real magic.'" He made air quotes around the words. "Got it."

  Phillip and Victoria exchanged a glance, but before they could clarify further, Marvin was already heading for the stairs.

  "I need to prepare my character backstory!" he called over his shoulder. "What's the setting? High fantasy? Steampunk? Post-apocalyptic with magical elements?"

  "I believe it's a fairly standard medieval fantasy setting," Phillip called after him. "Knights, wizards, that sort of thing."

  "Perfect!" Marvin's voice echoed down the stairwell. "I've got just the character concept!"

  When Marvin disappeared upstairs, Victoria turned to her husband. "He thinks it's real, doesn't he?"

  "No, no," Phillip shook his head. "He knows it's a game. He's just... enthusiastic."

  "Phillip," Victoria fixed him with a stare. "Your brother believes in fairy realms and dimensional portals. Do you really think he understands the difference between fantasy and reality here?"

  Phillip opened his mouth to defend Marvin, then closed it as the implications sank in. "Oh god," he said finally. "What have I done?"

  "Given your fantasy-obsessed brother, who thinks London is full of magical portals, an 'immersive fantasy experience' where actors will pretend magic is real." Victoria's tone was dry enough to classify as a fire hazard.

  "He's forty-two years old," Phillip protested. "Surely he understands the concept of pretend."

  From upstairs came the sound of Marvin practicing what appeared to be battle cries, followed by the distinctive whoosh of a ceremonial dagger cutting through air.

  Victoria raised an eyebrow. "You were saying?"

  "It'll be fine," Phillip insisted, though his confidence was clearly wavering. "The LARP organizers deal with all types. I'm sure they've had enthusiastic participants before."

  "Not like Marvin," Victoria muttered.

  Upstairs, Marvin was in full preparation mode. He had changed into what he considered appropriate adventuring attire: hiking boots, cargo pants with multiple pockets (for storing magical components, naturally), and a t-shirt featuring a detailed dragon illustration. Over this, he wore a forest green cloak that he'd purchased from a Renaissance fair in Portland.

  The ceremonial daggers were arranged on the bed alongside his research journal, a small pouch of interesting rocks he'd collected in Hyde Park (potential magical catalysts), and a bag of trail mix (rations). He was currently engaged in practicing his spellcasting gestures in front of the mirror.

  "Arcane missile!" he declared, thrusting his palm forward. "Dimensional shift!" This accompanied by a complex pattern traced in the air. "Fireball!" A dramatic two-handed gesture that nearly knocked over a bedside lamp.

  A knock at the door interrupted his magical preparations.

  "Your car is here," Phillip called through the door, sounding like a man who was having serious second thoughts.

  "Excellent!" Marvin gathered his adventuring supplies into his backpack. "The quest begins!"

  He swung open the door to find Phillip standing there with an envelope. "These are the details of the experience," Phillip explained, handing it over. "Location, basic instructions, that sort of thing."

  Marvin accepted the envelope reverently. "The sealed orders. I shall not break the seal until I reach the designated coordinates."

  "It's just the address of the starting point," Phillip clarified. "You can open it now."

  "A true adventurer respects the integrity of the quest parameters," Marvin replied with solemn dignity, tucking the envelope into a pocket of his cloak.

  Phillip sighed. "Right. Well, the car will take you to the meeting point. The experience is scheduled to last until about midnight, at which point another car will bring you back here."

  "If I return at all," Marvin said ominously. "Many who venture into the realm of enchantment are never seen again."

  "It's a regulated entertainment experience with full public liability insurance," Phillip assured him. "You'll be back by midnight."

  Marvin winked. "Of course, brother. I understand completely." He adjusted his cloak and headed for the stairs, calling over his shoulder, "If I don't return, check the fairy rings of Hyde Park at the next full moon!"

  Downstairs, Victoria was arranging flowers for the dinner table when Marvin descended in full adventuring regalia. She blinked several times but managed to keep her composure. "You look... prepared."

  "A true adventurer is always ready to face the unknown," Marvin declared, adjusting his dagger belt.

  The doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of his transportation.

  "That's your car," Phillip said, appearing from the kitchen. "Remember, you're meeting the LARP group at the address in the envelope. Just follow their instructions and have fun."

  "I shall return with tales of glory," Marvin promised, giving a formal bow. "Or not at all."

  As Marvin bounded out the door, Phillip turned to Victoria. "Maybe I should call the organizers and give them a heads-up about... him."

  "Probably too late for that," Victoria replied, watching through the window as Marvin explained something to the bewildered driver, complete with elaborate hand gestures. "At this point, we can only hope he doesn't get arrested."

  "Or start an international incident," Phillip added glumly. "The daggers were a mistake, weren't they?"

  "Catastrophic," Victoria agreed. "But on the bright side, our dinner guests will be here soon, and for the next several hours, Marvin is officially someone else's problem."

  Outside, Marvin settled into the back seat of the car, vibrating with excitement. As they pulled away from the curb, he finally allowed himself to open the sealed envelope.

  The instructions inside were simple: he was to be dropped off near a park in East London, where he would meet his "guide" into the Realm of Enchantment. The guide would be identifiable by a blue scarf.

  "The first NPC," Marvin murmured appreciatively. "Probably a tutorial character to explain the game mechanics."

  He tucked the instructions away and gazed out the window as London passed by, his mind already half in the fantasy world he was about to enter. This was exactly what he had come to London for—a chance to experience the magic that he knew existed just beyond the veil of ordinary perception.

  What Marvin didn't notice was the sleek black sedan that pulled away from the curb shortly after his car departed, following at a discreet distance.

  Inside that sedan, the man in the gray suit spoke quietly into a phone. "The subject is on the move. Heading east." He listened briefly. "Yes, sir. I understand the delicacy of the situation." Another pause. "No, sir. No witnesses. I'll ensure it looks like an accident."

  He hung up and opened his briefcase again, this time removing not a camera but components of what appeared to be a small, sophisticated weapon. As the street lamps illuminated the car's interior, his reflection in the window revealed momentary distortions—skin taking on a grayish-green tinge, features becoming more angular, ears subtly pointed. He blinked, and the human glamour reasserted itself.

  As he assembled the weapon with practiced precision, he murmured to himself in the formal tones of someone reciting a professional creed: "Gruknor the Reaper accepts this contract with all due solemnity and guarantees its completion with honor and discretion. According to the ancient troll code of the Blackrock Clan, I pledge that the target's passage to the next realm shall be swift and unremarkable."

  The sedan continued eastward, maintaining a careful distance behind Marvin's car as London's evening traffic flowed around them, neither driver aware that their passengers were destined for a far more unusual encounter than either could imagine.