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Chapter Text

November 13, 1899

The small, oil-rubbed brass bell over the doorway, lets out a distinctive chime as Helena enters, and then she gently lets the door swing closed behind her. The sound of the bell never fails to prompt a smirk upon Helena's face. The bell is an artifact on loan to this establishment, simply because the bell is one of the few and rare artifacts, that has no ill effects. The bell chimes based on the intentions of the person walking through the threshold of the doorway. The bell in point of fact is a rather simple judge of character, meaning it recognizes whether a person presently has honorable intentions, or rather nefarious ones. The bell is a rather clever watchdog in Helena's opinion. Patrons of the establishment could be charmed with a bell that can make different sounds, though few if any have noticed, or made any mention of it.

The aforementioned bell is a new acquisition from America. A store owner complained that a bell his cousin gave him for his store was aggravating; making strange noises every so often, and that strangely those times when the bell chimed differently seemed to be when he was robbed. It goes without saying that the compliant luckily fell on the ears of a visiting Regent. The history of the bell us that it was cast by Paul Revere, whom is the very same man that Henry Wadsworth Longfellow immortalized Revere's midnight ride in his 1861 poem, 'Paul Revere's Ride'. The poem is of course famous for the line announcing that: 'The British Are Coming!'. The other artifacts within the Warehouse were not fond of the bell, so it was relocated to serve a purpose. The bell guards the safekeeping of one of the people that matters most to Helena.

The bell's properties obviously benefits Helena while she is here, since she is certainly no stranger to this establishment, one could even say that she is a frequent patron. Helena smiles at the comforting sight of a well-stocked bookstore, a veritable wealth of knowledge ripe for the picking, but this particular bookstore can also boast that it has the pleasant aroma of an assortment of teas, that rivals any other tea room in London. Helena moves past the counter with a wry grin, because it would seem that the establishment's proprietor has left the store to its own devices. Helena places her hands into the pockets of her trousers, and leisurely walks down the newly created science fiction aisle, that of course houses Helena's growing literary works. Though she is considering branching out, and trying other approaches to exploring ideas of the human condition within the realm of fiction.

Helena stops short for a moment at the burst of familiar laugh up ahead. It would seem the proprietor is perhaps being entertained by some sort of admirer, that is masquerading as a customer. The establishment in question is the: 'Inkwell Infusion: Book Store & Tea Room'. Helena is quite aware that afternoon tea in the ladies parlor is long over. In fact, closing time is nearly here this time of the year, since darkness comes more swiftly as winter approaches. Helena is here in essence to escort the proprietor home as it were, as per usual, unless Helena has been called away to chase an artifact. Those days of distance travel in the name of artifact collection has not been all that often in the last year, at least for Helena that is. There have been new recruits, and they must learn the ropes as it were, the same as every agent before them, and those still yet to join the ranks in the future.

As Helena stealthily turns the corner around the aisle, which opens into a small sitting room for patrons, there is indeed a sight to behold. The proprietor of 'Inkwell Infusion' is Myka and she has a gentleman caller as it were. Helena lingers behind a stack, and peers though the space above the shelf of books. She is silent as she watches the interaction. Myka is lovely as always. When she is at work she dresses like a proper lady of the time, minus the corset though. The tailor that made Myka's dresses was appalled at the request. Helena was endlessly amused during Myka's fitting appointment that day. Myka is wearing blue, with her hair styled in an updo, and regardless of the fact that Myka is a woman of the future, she has made a life for herself in the past. Myka smiles politely as the man moves marginally closer to her. Helena tilts her head to the side and assesses Myka's admirer.

It takes a moment, but Helena recognizes the handsome, well-dressed man, in his expense grey suit, as one of the newer Regents she has encountered on two occasions a half a year ago. Interesting. Myka runs the 'Inkwell Infusion' publicly. In private, Myka is a consultant for Warehouse 12, and now a de facto Regent in the last three years. Myka's biggest contribution is helping Helena to develop the 'Neutralizer', or purple goo, as Myka said it was so nicknamed in her time. Helena was already engineering such a thing, and Myka quite helpfully said all through her years as a Warehouse 13 agent, it was never explained how the Neutralizer that she relied on came to be. But after their first, and only mission together years ago, where Myka witnessed the red healing waters sparking the Anne Bronte handkerchief, Myka surmised that perhaps HG Wells had a hand in the creation.

Helena quietly continues to witness the scene, or rather more to the point, how Myka will dismiss the man who is clearly smitten with her. A Regent coming to see Myka in a professional capacity is as common as sunshine. But a Regent that lingers, smiles, and coaxes laughter, has ulterior motives and intentions. Helena smiles as Myka closes the open book on her lap, and then swiftly rises from her seat on the settee. The handsome man follows suit, and then Myka offers him the book that she was holding. The man takes the book, and nods politely at Myka, before moving to exit the sitting room. Helena listens to his retreating footsteps, and then the following chime of the bell over the doorway. The man is a shameless flirt, but at least he is not leacherous in nature or had ill motivations, otherwise for the whom the bell tolls would have told on him.

Myka clears her throat and smiles, "You can come out now."

Helena smirks and rolls her eyes. Myka knows her far too well. Perhaps Helena should endeavor to be less predictable? Helena slowly emerges from her hiding place, and then deliberately swaggers towards Myka. The reaction is always thrilling. It's all in Myka's eyes. How her attention is drawn to Helena as if by muscle memory. Not so long ago, Helena worried that Myka's affection for her would wane with the passing years. Helena has never been more elated to be proven wrong about a theory.

Helena stops just shy of touching Myka, "He has his eye on you." Helena attempts to be wry, coy even, though she somewhat fails to keep the jealously out of her tone. "Not that I blame him, for having excellent taste that is." Helena slips her hands into the pockets of her trousers, and then casually leans against the bookshelf. "Having said that, I thought it was common knowledge among our circle, that you are in fact spoken for."

Another thought that Helena entertained at one time, is that perhaps Myka would choose to marry. Over the years, there is of course frequent gossip amongst certain circles in London, about the American woman, who is a close companion to the Wells family. The majority of the gossip Helena has been privy to, and thankfully nothing improper or bordering on salacious, as been uttered about Myka Bering. The official story, that was circulated just as Myka was making her foray into public life, is that Myka is a widower. That she was formerly married to an Englishman, who perished in the war, and that he left her his small estate in London.

Myka narrows her eyes slightly, "I'm very aware that a particular writer has been enamored with me for a few years now."

Helena bites the inside of her cheek to refrain from smiling. Helena does so love their verbal sparring and rather shameless flirting, "Only enamored? Surely your writer is more serious about you than that."

Myka crosses her arms over her chest, "What are you trying to imply?" Myka takes a step closer, which causes Helena's heartbeat to quicken. "Should I start batting my eyes at the Regent who was here, that was barely mildly interesting, since my writer is so unserious?"

Helena faintly smirks, "I feel pity for your steadfast writer." Helena takes a step back from Myka, as though she means to leave. "That you could cast aside so easily, at the mere sight of a sharply dressed man."

Myka scoffs and then swiftly uncrosses her arms, and reaches for Helena. This is a public place so it's not as though Myka would be wantonly improper. Being mindful of the setting, Helena still wastes no time in returning the urgency of the moment. They've shared many kisses over the years, as well as other forms of affection, and each time is as thrilling as the first. Helena has never been one for flights of fancy in matters of the heart, that is until Myka time traveled, and thus altered Helena's life forever. Myka is a very forceful woman, which Helena expected no less from such a wondrous example of the female of the species. To this day, Helena doesn't know if she would've had the courage Myka had to leave her time, with no guarantee of what kind of life one would inherit, and be able to embrace such an unknown.

Myka ends the kiss, but still cradles Helena's face in her hands, "Do you know what day it is?"

Helena is dazed for a moment, but eventually Myka's predictable query washes over her, "Are you implying that I could somehow misplace the memory of your dashing arrival?"

Myka slowly removes her hands from Helena's face, to brush them along the shoulders of Helena's overcoat. Myka smiles as she lets out a heavy sigh, "It's been six years, and they've gone by so fast."

Helena is more than inclined to agree. It would seem that when one is happy, time moves swiftly, while when one is unhappy, the passage of time can begin to resemble a slow torture. Helena runs her hands down the long sleeves of Myka's dress. The silken fabric glides under Helena's loose grasp.

"I know we agreed not to dwell on the past." Myka bites down on her lower lip, and then grins. "But I don't ever want to forget that I was in your house, sitting at your desk, going through its contents, when I learned that H.G. Wells is a woman."

Of all the memories that Helena observed in the round table, all those years ago now, that one stands out because in terms of first meetings, one would be hard pressed to forget that situation. Helena vividly recalls how the future version of herself openly ogled Myka, and in all honesty, Helena cannot find a fault in it, aside from the blatant lack of subtlety. Had future Helena not developed some facsimile of feelings for Myka then, even in that now extinct timeline, all would've perished under the fatal strikes of the Minoan Trident, instead of being wiped clean and reset by Magellan's Astrolabe. Helena still inquires about Myka's mindset at times, since she endured so much, and yet did not break in a manner beyond repair.

Helena smirks, "As first looks go, one could ponder whom was more entranced with whom?"

Myka narrows her eyes, "Are you actually implying that I had an immediate crush on future Helena...at gunpoint no less?"

Helena grins, "Perhaps."

Myka makes a face, and then pokes Helena in the side, which only causes Helena to laugh. Time adds perspective, and in Helena's opinion on the meeting of Myka Bering and Helena Wells in 2010, it was kismet. Helena came to this conclusion due to the undeniable fact, that both persons involved had an immediate effect on one another's lives. Helena only dwells on this memory on occasion, purely in comparison with how Myka introduced herself in this time. Over the last six years, Helena has found an outlet to gradually let go of the memories of future Helena, that Myka gifted to the round table.

"So cheeky." Myka shakes her head, and then takes Helena's hand, and the two begin to walk back down the aisles, towards the front of the establishment. "Sometimes, you make it easy to forget that you are not the first Helena that I've met."

Helena smirks and leans closer into Myka's side, "Given that piece of information, am I to correctly infer, that I am far more charming than that future version of myself?"

Myka laughs as she gently squeezes Helena's hand, "You both are one in a million." Myka loosens her grip on Helena's hand as they approach the counter at the front of the store. "I can't imagine my life without a version of you in it."

Helena was not fishing for a compliment, in fact her query was posed in jest, a flirtation if you will, but Myka had something more to offer. Helena will never not be moved by Myka's honesty. Myka leans in for a brief kiss, before she moves away from Helena, to retrieve the keys to the store, and her belongings from behind the counter. Helena leans her elbows on the counter, and watches as Myka flits about. Myka has help regularly, but Helena would wager that Myka dismissed the young woman early, due to the Regent visitor.

The keys to the store jingle in Myka's grasp, "I know we agreed to not discuss a particular topic to death," Helena cannot refrain from glaring at Myka slightly. "And we haven't in a while." Helena rolls her eyes at the minor hint of frustration in Myka's tone. "But have you settled on your decision?"

Helena faintly shrugs, "My choice has occupied my thoughts, almost as much as Christina and you do, darling."

Myka smiles knowingly, "And how are you feeling about it? Your choice, I mean."

Helena sighs, "I shall let you know when I'm sitting in the chair."

Myka quirks up an eyebrow, "Won't that be a little too late to back out? And a chair is...what chair?"

Helena smirks because levity will always be welcome in her opinion, "I don't mean William Shakespeare's courting chair, darling." Myka makes a delightfully confused face, that is utterly adorable in Helena's opinion. "Though, if said chair in fact imbued anyone with the ability to write words that can enrapture the most skeptical reader, then I doubt even I could withstand the temptation." Myka moves from around the counter, fidgeting with the keys. "But alas, the chair merely causes one to be rather...randy."

Myka coughs, as she faintly blushes, which Helena still finds charming to this day, "We didn't have a chair section in Warehouse 13." Myka makes another face and then shrugs. "I mean we had two chairs, that were artifacts. One brought out subconscious desires, which I got to experience first-hand." Myka frowns and Helena wagers that Myka is replaying that ordeal in her mind's eye. "While the other just made you think that you were the ruler of a fictional place called 'Westeros'."

Helena laughs and smiles brightly, because Myka has told her how far the literary reach of science fiction, and fantasy spanned in the future. Helena has more than begun carving her mark into the pantheon of literature. Helena's smile fades though as her thoughts turn to recent events. Helena has only been recently informed, that the Warehouse will in fact be moving to America, with the birth of the new year. A new century. New agents will be selected. American agents. Not unlike Myka's timeline. The location in America hasn't been finalized to Helena's knowledge though.

Helena already knows that in Myka's timeline, Warehouse 13, was located in South Dakota. Helena would wager that there are a great many places in the vastness of America that would suffice. Though, with mankind's insatiable need for progress, a desolate place like South Dakota would remain as such for a hundred years or more. But then, London has been a highly populated area for hundreds of years, and yet the Warehouse has thrived here in secret all the same. So much change is coming. Helena was offered a choice, and after much deliberation, there was only one conclusion. But there is always a price to be paid with every choice one makes.

Myka's touch on Helena's shoulder draws Helena out of her turmoil, "Are you alright?"

Helena places her hand on Myka's and smiles, "Life's demands can be rather overwhelming at times."

Myka nods, "Believe me, I know."

Helena moves her elbows off the countertop, and straightens her posture, "There's still time to reverse course, purely on a personal level." Helena doesn't think that she could go back to not having someone with whom she can confide every thought with. "I am not the only viable candidate."

Myka tilts her head to the side, and offers Helena a brief but warm smile, "It's okay to be afraid, I would be." Myka's green eyes turn slightly glassy. "But you're unique, Helena." Myka takes a deep breath and then bites down on her lower lip for a moment. "When I traveled back in time to save you from your Fate, I hadn't considered that maybe you didn't need saving." There is a profound pause at such an admission, and that sad look enters Myka's expressive eyes. Helena knows that look all to well. Helena's eyes begin to fill with tears of her own to match Myka's. "This is your Fate. This is who you were meant to be." Myka sniffles and reaches up to wipe away a tear on her cheek that has escaped. "To quote an old friend: 'Don't run away from your truth'."

Helena smiles sadly at the reference to future Helena's words to Myka once, "Indeed, and perhaps this is my Fate." Helena reaches up to wipe a tear away from under her eye. "But I worry, that I will not survive the cost it will exact from me."

Myka's lovely face crumbles a little at the admission, and Helena reaches out and pulls her into a tight embrace. One would assume that Helena is facing a death sentence, or worse, entrapment in bronze. Helena is not that future version of herself. However, at the same time, the future is coming, and Helena has a very clear view on what it will resemble, and the thought is terrifying in a way she hadn't imagined. She will be changed by this. But then such is the malady of life; a procession of change, whether one is ready for it or not.

Helena tightens her hold on Myka, "I don't know that I'm ready, or strong enough for that matter."

Myka sniffles and runs a soothing hand down Helena's back, "Who is?"

Helena sighs heavily, "First, Christina turns nine in seemingly a blink of an eye, then this. It's too much change, even for someone like me."

Myka laughs lowly, "I never thought I would hear you say that you think your greatest creation, is getting too big for her britches."

Helena sighs again, "I dread the day when she has gentleman callers."

Myka snorts, "I think it's pretty standard, that all parents feel that way."

Helena grins and then leans back slightly from their embrace, "Be that as it may, she is nine, and at least I have a few more years to gird myself for that battle."

Myka smiles and reaches up to tuck some of Helena's hair behind an ear, "Time is on your side."

Helena cannot refrain from laughing at Myka's version of levity. To say such things to a woman who built a time machine, for purely scientific purposes in this life, or at least that is how Helena sold the idea to Myka. Helena was intrigued while writing her novel, but the real motivation came from the idea, that Myka might want to return to the modern world. Perhaps the three of them could even escape together if need be? Helena has not tried to duplicate the activation of her time machine, using the artifacts Paracelsus did, nor would she, particularly since all of the required artifacts are not all in Warehouse 12. Helena's internal dilemma as of late, is if all the artifacts were available, and where she permitted to use them, would she in fact go through with her time travel experiment? Alas, life has other plans for Helena though.

December 31, 1899

The birth of the twentieth century is rapidly nearing. Only a few hours remain of the year 1899. Looking back on just the last few years, Helena has achieved a level of success and notoriety, that she did not fully envision with yet more room to expand. Though her brother Charles is the 'H.G. Wells' to the public, Helena is nonetheless the creator, the power behind the throne if you will. Life is comfortable, and rather wonderful in a great many ways. 'The Time Machine' and 'The Wonderful Visit' was published in 1895. 'The Island Of Doctor Moreau' in 1896. In 1897, 'The Invisible Man' ensnared more readers, and just last year 'The War Of The Worlds' also captured an already rapt, and ever expanding audience.

Helena's next work is 'When The Sleeper Awakens' which is about to be up for public consumption. Helena's main idea for that book was a means to symbolically exorcise those old memories from the round table. The lingering shadows of future Helena, in an homage to the future Helena who was the sleeper, that awoke to a strange new world. Helena of course left out the detail that the sleeper was a tormented soul, that plotted to destroy the world, as a means to find a sort of hellish peace. Helena has acknowledged that Future Helena as left her mark on her, much like Future Helena is figuratively ingrained into Myka's soul.

On a more cheerful note, Helena has been on quite the writing spiel the last few years. The well of her imagination to draw from seems nearly endless at this stage in her life. There has been so much in her experiences to draw motivation from, not to mention an equally most enchanting muse. Myka refused to confirm if the writings were in direct correlation to the timeline of the other Helena Wells, that also conspired with her brother to make a living writing. Helena is quite happy to note that Charles is maturing in a fashion. Charles is still quite boisterous during public speaking engagements; selling the growing legend of H.G. Wells, as he referred to his antics.

Though, Charles' maturity has come at a price, quite literally. His spending habits were becoming too much for Helena to reign in. It was an argument for the ages, when Helena informed Charles, that his frivolous spending would be their ruination. Charles is to be married soon though, and it will be up to his wife to attempt to covertly govern that stubbornness. Helena has already made arrangements for the finances, the dividing of royalties, and housing. Helena has already purchased a new home, while Charles and his wife, will live in the house Charles and Helena shared for many years. Helena can easily see Charles buying a mansion at some point, if only to have high enough ceilings to house his ego.

"HG?"

Helena startles out of her thoughts and smiles at her obviously worried partner, "It will be fine, Wolly."

"I know that." Wolcott smiles nervously while practically wringing the brim of his hat, that is clenched in his hands. "It's just, I shall miss...chasing artifacts with you."

Helena nods because her partner is saying so much more than his words implied. It's not just about chasing artifacts. Wolcott has become family to Helena, a younger brother at this point. Ten years is not a short span of time to have spent with another person. But Wolcott has already begun moving forward with his life too. Like Helena's brother, Wolly is to be married soon, so his time among endless wonder is drawing to a close.

Mr. Frederic abruptly stops walking at an intersection in the Warehouse, "Very few people have experienced what you all are about to."

Mr. Frederic produces an old, odd-looking key from within his suit jacket, and then as if by magic, a door materializes in front of them. The Warehouse is truly wonderous in an almost frightening capacity. It's in that moment, that Myka reaches for Helena's hand, and gives it a quick squeeze. Helena flashes Myka a warm smile, at the gesture of comfort. The audience for this event is small. Only Mr. Frederic, Caturanga, Wolcott, and Myka, will be the only witnesses. Helena watches with amusement, as Mr. Frederic deliberately blocks the view of the door with his tall and wide body, as he uses the key. Helena immediately wonders how many secrets the Caretaker harbors and guards.

Myka once commented to Helena that Warehouse 12's Caretaker looks like a football player. Helena thought Myka was referring to soccer. But Myka explained that in her timeline, very large men play an extremely high contact game, where they not only kick the ball, but carry it, and hit each other in the spirit of winning the game. Myka said that Mr. Frederic would've made a fearsome linebacker, that few other men would've tested. Helena was amused at Myka's knowledge, and when Helena inquired as to if Myka enjoyed sporting entertainment, Myka simply made a face, and informed Helena, that Pete is to blame for Myka knowing things about American football.

Mr. Frederic steps to the side as the door slowly swings open, as he slips the antique key back inside his suit jacket, "Very few eyes have seen this side of endless wonder."

Without pause Caturanga steps forward and seemingly disappears through the door. Wolcott looks to Helena, then to Mr. Frederic, who simply gestures for Wolly to step through. Wolcott takes a deep breath, and then walks through the threshold. Helena smirks at Mr. Frederic and then steps forward, Helena feels Myka's grip on her upper arm, as she follows close behind. Helena closes her eyes at the tingle that rushes over her body. Helena opens her eyes at the sudden pressure change, which makes her ears pop. Helena glances behind her at Myka, who quickly smiles back, and then at Mr. Frederic, and the door that closes soundly behind them, which disappears from sight.

Helena turns her attention to the space, which is a stone room, it's as though they have stepped into a cave. In the place of cave wall drawings, from the Neolithic era of mankind, there are supernatural floating symbols. Helena recognizes the symbols are in fact Nordic runes, which constantly move in all directions. The movement seems to be the very definition of organized chaos. Helena notes that Myka seems rather familiar with this reveal of endless wonder. Helena quickly surmises that Myka has seen this sight before, in her timeline, perhaps during the Paracelsus event, which is the most likely scenario in Helena's estimation.

Caturanga holds a small decorative box to his chest as he smiles, "This is the Eldunari, the Warehouse's central nervous system and heart." Mr. Frederic comes to stand beside Caturanga, and the height difference is stark; a looming tower, next to a modest two-story townhouse. "It connects the mind of the Caretaker to the soul of the Warehouse."

Mr. Frederic looks around at the space, not quite watching the symbols flit about but more akin to feeling them, when a rare smile graces his stern face, "It's time."

Mr. Frederic's voice has always been deep, as to be expected from a man of his stature, but in this moment his voice is arresting. Helena feels a chill run over her body at the sound. Myka places a hand on Helena's shoulder, and that one small action grounds Helena. In the next moment, Mr. Frederic recites, in what Helena decides is Demotic no less, a phrase that Helena cannot decipher. The symbols moving about in the Eldunari stall and then swiftly shuffle about the room, and then begins to congregate in the space just over Mr. Frederic's impressive shoulders. One could say that the Warehouse views its Caretaker as one part shield, and one part sword.

Once again, Mr. Frederic steps aside this time to reveal two marble thrones. Helena is far too educated to know recognize what she is now looking at; the thrones belonged to the Warehouse's founder, Alexander the Great of Macedon, who was also the first Caretaker. The thrones are hand carved marble, one with depictions of chariots drawn by a pair of Pegasus' on the back, while more carvings of Pegusus adorn the edges of the seat. The second throne has carvings of the Gordian Knot, and like the other throne, Pegasus carved across the edge of the seat. Helena can't be certain, but she would wager that one throne may have belonged to Alexander's paternal grandmother, Eurydice.

Mr. Frederic nods and then silently sits down in the throne with the carvings of chariots on the back. The marble throne just suddenly seems to accommodate to this size. The Eldunari seems to react to this action, in the sense that the symbols rapidly begin to move in an even more erratic fashion. Helena glances at Wolcott and smiles at her partner, who seems rather overwhelmed by what he is witnessing. What is more than likely to be his last official act as an agent of Warehouse 12. Wolcott notices Helena's attention and he simply smiles and faintly shrugs up his shoulder, while still wringing the brim of his hat in his hands.

"Miss Wells." Caturanga's voice draws Helena's gaze from Wolcott. Caturanga opens the lid of the small wooden box, and removes a large green silk ribbon. "If you will you take the other throne please?"

Helena nods and then casts a glance back at Myka. The time traveler from Warehouse 13 looks proud and yet frightened. They discussed what this choice would mean for them, that is until Helena tired of the topic. For Helena accepting this honor meant one thing, that the only downside to being Caretaker, is watching loved ones slip away. Reality truly hits Helena in that moment. Today is the day. Helena Wells is to become the new Caretaker to what is to be Warehouse 13. The British empire is in fact losing the Warehouse to America, and Helena is in the minority of not being put off by the newest location. It's the way of things.

A new century is about to start, and almost as a gift to her beloved, they are going home. Not Helena's home, but to Myka's homeland. Warehouse 13 was always meant to be America's turn to host endless wonder. Not to mention that there are a healthy amount of artifacts to be collected there. Some are already causing noticeable problems, that news of their antics are crossing the ocean. For now, those artifacts in the new world, are for the most part, out of easy reach for now. Granted, some artifacts have come from America recently, but not many. The few artifacts that have arrived from America, are courtesy of the new Regents and recruits already there.

Helena smiles at Myka, and then turns and walks towards the throne adorned with the Gordian Knot carving on the back. Helena takes her seat on the throne, and like Mr. Frederic, she feels the chair conforming to her. It's an unsettling feeling, that quickly fades. Helena looks to her side at Mr. Frederic, who offers her a faint smile. The marble throne of Alexander the Great is woefully uncomfortable, but Helena expected no less, since it's a royal symbol. Helena was given the instructions for the ritual of the transfer, which did not quiet her nerves. Helena isn't aware if this is the ritual for all Caretakers, or a ceremony for this instance. Perhaps she will learn that truth once the transfer is complete.

Caturanga steps forward with the ribbon, and it suddenly unfurls not unlike a silken snake, that has not yet decided on which prey to ensnare. Caturanga holds the ribbon tight, "One connection to be severed, one new connection to be made. Do you both accept?"

Mr. Frederic places his hands on the armrests of the throne, "I accept."

Helena places her hands on the armrests of her throne, "I accept."

Caturanga nods and then loosens his grip on the green silk ribbon, which then rises like a cobra about to strike, "So shall it be...one connection severed, one new connection made."

The green silk ribbon lunges, and proceeds to wrap around one of Mr. Frederic's wrist, and then wraps around Helena's wrist. Once again, the ribbon behaves like a snake wrapping around it's prey. There is pressure where the ribbon is tightening around her wrist, but as quickly as the squeezing starts, it abruptly stops, then there is a warmth, and Helena watches as the ribbon begins to glow. A sliver of fear creeps into Helena's thoughts, but then the distinct scent of apples provides a sort of calm to Helena's senses. Helena spares a glance to Mr. Frederic, who merely nods, and then faces forward, and closes his eyes.

Helena looks to Caturanga, Myka and Wolly, and offers them all a warm smile, before finally closing her eyes as a gesture to welcome the transfer. The connection becomes undeniable. The hum of the Eldunari begins to permeate Helena's entire body. Helena loudly gasps as she is hit with an almost vast outpouring of knowledge of the Warehouse.

"Helena!" Myka's worried voice rings out clear.

"HG!" Wolcott's tone is a tad frantic.

"There is no need to worry." Caturanga's voice follows as a soothing balm. "No harm is being done to Miss Wells."

Images sudden flood Helena. Precisely how Alexander the Great created the Warehouse, as a part of his conquest of the world. After all, one must have a dedicated place to hoard the spoils of war. Though at some point, Alexander was smart enough to recognize that some of the riches of his campaign had powers. No sooner than Helena has time to digest such information, an influx of inventory seems to implant itself into her brain. Helena just knows where every artifact within the walls of the Warehouse are. It's almost overwhelming, and then comes another blast of information, and this round of information is secrets. Helena faintly smirks with satisfaction, of now knowing how many of her theories about the Warehouse are proven correct.

Helena has a rapid sensation of the warmth on her wrist, where the ribbon is wrapped, getting even warmer, and then the warmth moves up her arm, and rapidly spreads. Helena gasps again, as her chest warms, and how her lungs suddenly feel hot, its as though she has inhaled fire. The heat drops down to her abdomen, and continually drops lower, until its as though Helena's feet feel as though she is walking upon hot coals. There is no pain, it's just an alarming sensation. Helena inhales sharply as the heat climbs back up from her feet, to her legs, to her abdomen again. Helena gasps again at the sensation of the heat settling directly on her heart. It feels as though the heat is wrapping around her heart; encasing Helena's heart, essentially cauterizing it.

The heat swiftly fades from Helena's chest. It is done. She is now ageless at thirty-three years old. She is now a part of the Warehouse, and the Warehouse is a part of her. Helena will now time travel with her eyes wide open, and without the aide of a machine of her own making. Helena did not accept the position of Caretaker lightly, or overnight, it was a decision made over the course of a year. Helena's choice was mostly due to her impressive connection with the Warehouse. Helena has always smelled the apples, every version of her, and that knowledge is based on Myka's memories stored in the round table. Future Helena was more than likely meant to be the next Caretaker in her timeline. But the event of Christina's death sparked a trajectory of the decent into abject madness, being bronzed, which altered her path in life.

There are days when Helena feels that she owes a perverse sort of gratitude to the future version of herself. Had Future Helena not been bronzed, then freed in 2010, only to leave an indelible mark on Myka Bering, it's an absolute certainty that Myka would not have traveled back in time, albeit unknowingly to another timeline, to be with this Helena. Everything has changed for Helena, though she quite unexpectedly feels no different physically at the moment. Helena notices that her fingers are clenched on the ends of the armrests, so she lets go, and flexes her fingers. The scent of of apples is still in the air. The Warehouse is happy. Helena smiles as she takes a deep breath, and then opens her eyes.

March 11, 1900

Helena holds the skirt of her dress in one hand, as she steps down off the carriage, and then with her other hand, she opens her parasol to use as a shield from the bright sunshine. Nevada weather is quite comfortable for this time of year, not to mention a good deal warmer than England at the moment. Helena arrived in America at the end of February, after enduring a six week voyage across the ocean, which she could still feel the connection to the Warehouse strongly. Then there was the rather quaint, but weeklong train journey across America, and then Helena finally laid eyes upon her new house. After two days of settling in her new home, Helena was more than ready to see the new Warehouse. So a short carriage ride later, and they are finally here.

Helena lets go of the skirt of her dress, and then adjusts her sunglasses as she looks up at the Warehouse with a smile, "It's even more grand than the photographs, darling."

Warehouse 13 is a saturnine monolithic figure hulking upon the light sandy loam soil, with severe rolling hills in the background, acting as a natural wall. Location is paramount, but Helena will miss the bustle of London, that surrounded Warehouse 12.

Myka steps off the carriage, and then promptly joins Helena under the shade of the parasol, "It's impressive." Myka reaches for the handle of the parasol, and takes it out of Helena's hand. Helena grins because Myka holds it higher to accommodate her height better. "It kind of looks like my Warehouse 13, but at the same time not."

Helena turns her head to the side and smirks at Myka, "What pray tell is the glaring difference?"

Myka scoffs, "For starters, the Warehouse 13 that I worked at, looked like it was growing out of the mountains behind it."

Helena chuckles and shakes her head, "May I ask how your Warehouse 13 was hidden from public scrutiny?"

Myka tilts her head to the side and grins, "We had this...thing called F.I.S.H, Frequency-Interfering-Surveillance-Holograph, and it made the Warehouse invisible to overhead observation." Myka grimaces slightly, and shifts the parasol to her other hand. "Otherwise, anyone could just drive up to the Warehouse, and knock on the door."

Helena's eyes widen, "Surely you jest?"

Myka shakes her head, "I hated that at first. But everyone in the nearby town of Univille, thought the Warehouse was an IRS building that stored all the tax returns."

Helena smirks, "Taxes? So the whole town hated you then, and that's what kept them at bay?" 

Myka purses her lips, "Pretty much."

Helena laughs and then, as though prompted, the horse that draws their carriage whinnies and then snorts. Helena has a dedicated driver, which she had a short period of time to get used to in London before the move. The nearby town of Eureka will now be where Myka's business, 'Inkwell Infusion' is located. Myka is uncertain how popular tea will be in the town, or books for that matter, since it's a mining town. Helena is optimistic about that observation.

When Helena spoke to Myka about where Warehouse 13 would be located, Myka was amused, and she wasted no time in explaining why. So Helena learned of another town called Eureka, located in Oregon, that was hidden away from the world, and all of it's residents were scientific geniuses, working for a company called Global Dynamics. In another time, Helena could live and thrive in such place, around similar like-minded thinkers and doers. 

In the here and now, Myka is soon to be a Regent though. Another recent change to their life. The Regents of America have already voiced such a promotion, after they learned of the particulars of Myka's origins. Helena was all too tempted to leave that bit of information out of the briefing, but Myka insisted that Helena not, because Myka said there was little point in trying to hide it.

Myka sighs and runs a hand down the bodice of her very fetching dress, "So how will this Warehouse 13 be hidden? I mean it's barely out in the middle of nowhere." Helena arches an eyebrow at Myka, who merely laughs. "Not that you have to worry about satellites flying overhead yet."

Helena has of course dabbled with the notion of space travel beyond her imagination. The makeshift rocket she built was sound in theory. Myka has also told her about the modern world. But Helena's ideas for the Warehouse's defenses are practical, not to mention she has always believed that hiding something in plain sight, is the best way to fool a fool, and unwelcome interlopers.

Helena turns to face Myka, under the shade of their shared parasol, "I can assure you that aside from myself, agents and Regents, no one will be walking up to the door to knock."

Myka smirks, "What have you done?"

Helena laughs, "I have engineered a few things, nothing more."

Helena has not kept any secrets from Myka since they have been together. Not that Helena would try, even if they were no more than platonic companions. Myka shifts the parasol to her other hand again, and Helena takes a moment to appreciate this wonderful person who has been in her life for over six years now. Helena will not be marrying for the sake of keeping up appearances much less propriety, and the same can be said for Myka. Their relationship is that of a marriage at this stage. Christina sees Myka as another parent. In the end, it was Myka that made Christina excited about leaving London. They all of course will visit London from time to time, but America is their home now, the three of them.

Helena reaches for Myka's free hand, and then holds it tightly, "Are you going to be content in Nevada, darling?"

Myka bites her bottom lip, "Are you?"

Helena sighs, "My only fear is that Christina will develop an American accent."

Myka narrows her eyes and then lightly swats Helena on the arm, "Really?"

Helena laughs and smiles brightly, "What did I say, darling?"

Myka tries to remain stern, but the act doesn't hold, as a smile pulls at the corners of her lips, "Nevada is a lot warmer than South Dakota in the winter. And...I chased a lot of artifacts in Nevada...once upon a time."

Helena has only witnessed Myka acting as a Warehouse agent once. The most Myka discusses artifacts at length is when the situation calls for it, so the topic is infrequent at best. The same could be said for Helena when she was an agent. Helena is Caretaker Wells now, which is a title she is still getting accustomed to.

Helena smiles, "Do tell then, darling."

Myka laughs, "Aren't you tired of hearing about my past yet?"

Helena leans in close, "I shall never tire of your stories. Besides, you've spoke nothing of your previous adventures in Nevada."

Myka scoffs and rolls her eyes, "I'll tell you about it on the way home." Myka steps back and closes the parasol, before turning and walking towards the waiting carriage, "You comin'?"

Helena laughs as she follows after Myka. Helena boards the carriage and shuts the door behind her. But not one moment after she takes her seat, and removes her sunglasses, Myka pulls her into a far from chaste kiss. Helena shall never be prepared for the expanse of feeling Myka calls up in her with barely any effort. They of course will not be doing anything inappropriate in this carriage, that will happen later after Christina is sound asleep. Helena is glad for this time that they are being given, before the demands of the Warehouse truly begin. Helena is eager to fully test out her new role as Caretaker of Warehouse 13. There are agents to recruit, artifacts to reshelve, and a Warehouse to manage, but not today. For now, there is time breathe and to appreciate the new life ahead of them, amid endless wonder.

_END_