Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Remember

Episode One: Far From Home

Chapter One

“Where are you going, Mother?”

Queen Anastaise turned around, unaware that she had been followed by her youngest son. “Oh, Blumiere. I’m only going for a walk.”

Blumiere joined his mother under the gate on the edge of their Tribe’s territory. “Are you visiting the humans?” He peered down the steep cliff in front of him, trying to catch glimpses of the town in between the leaves. “Can I come?”

Kneeling beside the ten-year-old boy, Anastaise placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to guide him away from the edge. “You remember what your Father says…”

“I know. ‘Stay away from them.’ But why can you visit them and I can’t?” Blumiere sent another longing look at the buildings below. He could see the shape of the castle spires in the shadow that reached over the little town, shrouding it in darkness.

“Blumiere,” she murmured, “the humans are dangerous. I’m not sure how they might treat a young child like you.”

“But what about you?” he whispered, catching sight of a few humans, tiny as beetles, walking the streets below. “Will they hurt you?”

“Of course not,” was the calming response. “I’ll be careful.” 

“Hey! Get out of here, you filthy devil! Back to your side of the line!”

Blumiere barely dodged a swinging broom aimed for his face, ducking his head and muttering apologies. His hands flinched to defend himself as the woman holding the broom brought it behind her head, winding up for another hit. “Please, ma’am, I mean you no harm! I only—”

He cut off with a yelp as the wooden broom veered for his upper body once more. Stepping backward, he narrowly escaped the blow but cried out in pain as a sharp object struck his back. Whirling around, he noticed a man standing a few yards away, arm poised to throw a second stone. 

“How dare you show your hideous face here ?” the man shouted, hurling the rock at the end of his sentence for emphasis. “Have you forgotten what the Tribe of Darkness did to our town? If it weren’t for you, we’d still be living peacefully!”

In order to evade the stone, Blumiere backpedaled further down the street. 

“Where do you think you’re going? Get back behind the gates; you’re not welcome here!”

As he retreated the woman with the broom approached him again, scowling. He glanced helplessly at the gate they’d driven him away from. He lifted his head to the sky, to the dark outline of his castle on top of the hill. Distracted, Blumiere failed to notice the third rock that flew towards him. A grunt escaped his mouth as it struck his shoulder, and in a sudden wave of panic, he spun on his heel, racing down the cobbled road in an attempt to escape his attackers. 

Enraged and frightened exclamations from the two humans followed him, encouraging him to run faster. He could see a large outdoor marketplace at the end of the street, crowded with humans. He had a feeling they wouldn’t be walking so merrily after they saw him.

Regret fuelled each step as he neared the unsuspecting townsfolk. A quick glance behind him confirmed that the man and the woman still pursued him. 

What now? The panicked thought surfaced above the turmoil in his mind. What can I do besides… Ah, I hope the people in this market are more understanding…  

He veered towards the houses that closely lined the street, hoping to stay hidden. Looking behind him once more, Blumiere scanned the street for his pursuers. 

“Look out!”

Blumiere gasped as he ran full force into another being, causing both of them to tumble forward and hit the ground with a thud. He landed on his stomach, coughing as the air rushed out of his lungs. 

“I-I’m so sorry, sir! Are you al-?” The woman he had run into suddenly cut off her apology. Looking up at her, Blumiere winced at her frozen expression of horror. After a prolonged period of tense eye contact, she finally regained her voice and screamed.

The whole town square seemed to pause as every human in the area stared directly at him. Even the birds and the rustling leaves fell silent. Then, a low murmur floated about the crowd. Curious and fretful whispers filled the air, gradually escalating into accusations.

“Look at him…”

“One of those darkness wizards, no doubt…”

“What is he doing here?”

“What if they’re planning to invade? They’ll take even more away from us!”

Blumiere shrank back, overwhelmed. His eyes darted between each piercing stare. He raised one hand to his collar, desperate for more room to breathe. Catching sight of his own dark blue skin, it finally struck him how much he stood out amongst the humans. 

A fiery string of enraged expletives jolted him out of his thoughts. He scrambled to his feet and turned to see the same broom-wielding woman that had attacked him earlier. Her loud insults echoed the whispers emanating from the square.

Blumiere stepped backward, apologizing quietly. As soon as he moved, the humans fell silent again. He could feel the terrified stares of everyone in the square, watching him with fear-filled gazes, wondering what he’d do next. 

But what can I do? He thought desperately, I have to get out of here! Glancing above the humans’ heads, he spotted a road on the opposite side of the square that appeared to lead out of town. Is that my only option? Figuring he’d better do something before these people attacked him, he went against his better judgment and dashed towards the crowd, hoping to make it through to the other side.

As soon as he moved toward them, the mass of humans erupted into gasps and screams. The entire square fell into chaos. At first, the humans parted away from him, leaving him a clear path to the forest. But as he picked up speed, a few older humans converged on him all at once, making grabs for his arms and clothes. A firm hand on the back of his collar jolted him to a halt and he coughed, struggling to wrench himself from the grasp. 

Other hands passed over him as he tried to keep moving. He finally broke free from the grip on his collar, but a horde of humans pressed down on him no matter where he moved. 

“Stay back! Stay away from me!” He yelled, a bit of a snarl working its way into his voice. He threw a hand out toward a woman in his way and a magical orb whizzed past her, narrowly missing her head. It struck a building behind her and burst in a shower of liquid, blackening the brick wall. 

As Blumiere stared at his hand in shock, the rest of the humans fled from him, their screaming renewed. After some heavy convincing, Blumiere’s legs finally moved again, and this time, he did not stop until he reached the trees. Panting and shaking with terror, Blumiere spun around to make sure he hadn’t been followed.

Horror-stricken parents herded their young ones inside their houses, frantic vendors tried to salvage their crops, and casual shoppers scrambled back into the streets outside the square. In a matter of minutes, the square emptied. 

In a flash of grim hope, he wondered if he could go back through the town the way he’d come. In his hesitation he glimpsed movement, and as he held the cold gaze of a young woman, he knew the decision had been made for him. Without a word he turned around, unprepared but willing to face the unknown.

  Blumiere wandered aimlessly. It had been merely fifteen minutes, and already he felt lost. His unsteady legs carried him in an undetermined direction and his hands shook as he combed his fingers through his hair time and time again. Finally, he stopped walking altogether and sat down beneath a large tree. 

Once again he examined his hand. He quite enjoyed the dark blue color; it complemented the Tribe’s protocol of glowing blue eyes and jet-black hair. Humans had a lot of different colors, he’d noticed. And yet, in a crowd of people, he stood out. Enough to warrant attacks and insults.

With this thought he slumped his shoulders, sliding down the tree until it caught the back of his silk shirt and stopped him from going any further. He couldn’t allow himself to be naive enough to think the humans based their hatred on his color alone. The Tribe of Darkness didn’t belong here. Years ago, the tribe took what had never been theirs, and they had expected the humans to accept that.

He should have stayed home.

Forcing himself to get up, he started to make his way through the trees again, pushing through bushes and stepping over branches. As the undergrowth grew thicker and the insects buzzed incessantly louder, Blumiere’s stomach twisted in fear of being lost. At last, he stopped to lean against another tree, overwhelmed. Absentmindedly he raised his hand to his face, still studying the color. 

Anger brewed inside of him. He tried to be angry with the humans for attacking him. He wanted to be. But the more he thought about it, the more he directed the anger at himself. 

He flexed his fingers and then pressed his thumb and forefinger together. As he separated them, a small, black orb filled the space between. With little effort, Blumiere pushed the orb about a meter away to where an orange wildflower swayed gently in the breeze. The orb dropped right into the center of the bloom. Immediately, the stamens withered and turned black. The rest of the flower followed soon after, and it crumbled to the ground, now a tiny pile of ash. Blumiere sighed, closing his hand and replacing it by his side. He could have hurt them. He might have. Of course they were afraid. 

A single touch could poison their blood. One magic orb could corrupt their flesh. Of course they were afraid. Why had he expected any different?

With a huff, he pushed himself away from the tree and willed his legs to keep moving. He needed to get home. Once I make it back to the castle, he vowed, I’m never leaving again . 

He paced in a quick circle, hoping to reorient himself. He ran through his options and filed teleportation away as a last resort. Lack of confidence in his teleportation skills aside, Blumiere really didn’t want his entire family to know where he’d been all afternoon. 

He angled his head toward the sky with a long-suffering sigh. The sun struggled to peek through the thick foliage overhead, but the dappled light and shadows playing together in the leaves gave him an idea. Every evening, the sun set behind the castle. So if he could just figure out which direction the sun was moving… 

Suddenly, an alarming noise interrupted Blumiere’s thoughts. The ground began to rumble rhythmically, and the sound of snapping branches reached Blumiere’s ears. He scrambled to his feet, feeling his stomach lurch in terror. What…? What is that? As the massive vibrations grew more and more intense, Blumiere scrambled to find a place to hide. His feet moved unhelpfully in a jagged circle, moving him in four directions and nowhere at the same time.

A singular, explosive bark sounded and the thing burst through the bushes. Just a glance sent Blumiere scrambling away. Yelling, he spun on his heel and ran as fast as he could.

The thing ; a gigantic black sphere with sharp, silver fangs, insane eyes, and a bark loud enough to shatter eardrums, didn't hesitate to give chase. Blumiere ran blindly through the trees, weaving about sporadically in an attempt to get further ahead of the crazed beast, all the while screaming like a madman.

Without warning, his foot caught on a twisted tree root. He lurched forwards, sprawling head over heels and rolling down an inconveniently placed slope. Thorns and briars scratched his skin on the way down, and he landed hard at the bottom, the air driven out of his lungs. Gasping, he saw the creature appear at the top of the slope. It bounced a few times, as if pondering what to do, and then finally turned to go back into the woods.

Blumiere sighed in exasperation and sat up. He’d landed in a small, sandy clearing surrounded on all sides by trees. 

“What now?” he muttered aloud, leaning forwards and holding his head in his hands. The thought of returning to the trees, the realm of that thing chilled him to the bone. A spiteful glance at the unobstructed sky revealed the direction of the sun’s descent. At least he could guess at a direction now, though it wouldn’t do him much good while the creature had him trapped like prey. With two hours remaining until his Tribe’s evening meal, the prospect of teleportation presented itself once again. 

With a cry of exasperation, Blumiere stood up again. Not yet , he decided. If he heard the creature approach again, then . As he took a step towards the endless canopy of trees around him, Blumiere sighed heavily. 

He should have stayed home.

Chapter Text

Remember

Episode One: Far From Home

Chapter Two

Blumiere shook his head in frustration as yet another insect buzzed in his ear. His legs ached. His silk clothing, now covered in dirt, stuck to his sweat-soaked skin. He heaved another exhausted breath and cried out as the familiar buzzing filled his ears again. With every new step, his irritation grew, until finally he swiped a hand through the air and yelled, “Leave me alone!”

Scoffing at himself, he shook his head once more. Before he tripped on an upcoming tree root, Blumiere stopped walking, leaned against the nearest trunk, and turned his gaze to the sky. He’d been following the direction of the sunset, but he felt no nearer to his castle than before. Fear thrummed numbly beneath his frustration. 

This whole… escapade… everything. It’s all… foolish. Childish. I never should have left… 

His thoughts were abruptly cut off as a youthful voice sounded behind him.

“Sir?”

Chilled by the prospect of being discovered by a human, Blumiere scrambled away from the sound and dove behind a different tree. 

“Sir…? Are yeh alright?” the voice continued. It lilted and curled in a way Blumiere had never heard before.

Blumiere didn’t move. “I’m fine, thank you,” he replied softly, trying to sound as friendly as possible. 

The sound of crunching leaves signified the boy’s approach. Blumiere closed his eyes, hoping to appear harmless. The footsteps drew nearer and nearer; he could hear them move slowly around the tree and, at last, come to a halt. A small gasp escaped the child’s mouth.

“Y-yeh’re a… a blue-face…”

Opening his eyes, Blumiere gazed at the small human child in front of him. He had short, orange hair on top of his round head and sparkling blue eyes, currently wide with terror. A light dusting of freckles graced his tan cheeks. At this moment the young boy had his tiny hands pressed to either side of his face, bordering his wide-open mouth.

Before the man could say a word, the child took a step, and then began to flee.

Blumiere scrambled to his feet and managed to catch the boy’s hand before could make it too far. “Wait! I―”

“No! Please!” the boy yowled, trying to wriggle free. “Let me go! Please…! Please…!” 

Blumiere couldn’t let go, not now. If the boy escaped and made it back to his family, there would be proof . The boy would surely tell his family he’d been attacked, and Blumiere would never be able to refute it. “I am not going to hurt you!” he exclaimed, desperate to gain the boy’s trust. “I just… I need your help!”

To his surprise, the boy stopped struggling to escape and stared curiously into Blumiere’s glowing, dark blue eyes. 

“Y-yeh do…? But yeh’re a blue-face… Yeh can fix everythin’ with yer magic, can’t yeh?” He sniffled, using his free hand to wipe at his eyes.

Blumiere frantically gave the first excuse he could think of. “No, I’m afraid I cannot. In fact,” he knelt down and made eye contact with the boy. Hesitantly he let go of the child’s hand and took hold of his shoulder instead, just in case he tried to run again. “I can’t use my magic at all right now. So even if I wanted to hurt you… which I do not,” he added quickly, “I wouldn’t be able to.” 

The boy nodded slowly. However, with each bob of his head, his face fell more and more downcast. Not a moment later tears filled the child’s eyes. He looked away and sniffled in a restricted manner.

Blumiere froze, unable to do anything but stare at the weeping boy. What a mess, he mused. How am I supposed to fix this? He squeezed the boy’s shoulder gently and wondered, “What’s wrong?”

Cheeks flushed pink in shame, the boy said, “I-I was playin’ ‘ide and seek wit’ me best friend, and I ‘id in the forest…” he sniffed and looked away, “a-and now I think I’m l-lost!”

Blumiere’s eyes narrowed slightly. The boy’s words were slurred, and that combined with his odd accent made his sentences very difficult to understand. He managed to catch the last few words. So we’re both lost, then…? Granted, he had the sun to follow, but that had proved fruitless thus far. 

“Hush now, it's alright. I'll help you get back home." Blumiere quickly said, hoping to calm the young human down. He patted the boy's head, smiling gently in order to hide his panicked thoughts. What do I do now? I can’t take him back to the castle. And of course, that beast is still somewhere nearby… After catching the expectant gaze of the lost boy, Blumiere quickly moved on in the conversation.  "Now, what is your name?"

"Ronan." The child’s watery eyes gazed up at him. 

“You may call me Blumiere."

Ronan’s mouth twitched as it fought between a smile and a frown. "Yeh mean like the color blue? Like yer skin?"

Blumiere furrowed his brow. His name did emphasize his complexion, as he’d discovered long ago. "Hm. I suppose."

"Can I call yeh Blue?"

"Absolutely not," The man stated as sternly as he dared. "Now, let's get going. Do you-" Know which way to go? Blumiere caught himself before he finished the question. He’d have to figure this out on his own.

"Do I what?"

Blumiere shook his head. "Never mind. Let's get going." He examined his surroundings, trying to decide as quickly as possible where to go. He began to walk in the direction he’d come from. But what about that monster? I'd hate to run into it again, especially now that I have Ronan with me. Not to mention the consequences if he stepped foot in the humans’ town again. He turned around, walking to the thicker trees where Ronan had just been. But he’s been wandering for a while now too, surely. He would have just turned around if that was the right way. Conflicted, Blumiere finally decided to go someplace right in the middle.

By now, Blumiere had paced three circles around the tree he’d been leaning against. Ronan followed him confusedly footstep by footstep.

"Do yeh know which way teh go?" he asked, innocently.

“Yes.”

"Then ‘ow come we ain't goin’ anywhere?"

After some hesitation, Blumiere decided on, "I was chased here by a raving creature, and I'd rather not try to face it again. I’m trying to determine where it could have gone, so we can avoid it." A pearl of truth embedded in a brooch of lies. 

To his surprise, Ronan laughed. "There’s no creatures ‘ere!"

Blumiere considered debating the matter, but he decided ‘ how do you know, you weren’t chased by it’ was an unproductive argument. "Whether or not there truly are creatures,” he said, “I'd prefer not to take any chances."

“But… If we don’t get ‘ome soon, it will get dark!” Ronan’s voice wobbled, and Blumiere feared he might start to cry again if they didn’t get moving soon.

Blumiere forced a smile. "You’re right, let’s get going. I believe we just need to go straight from here." He took his first step in a random direction and, sure enough, Ronan followed his exact movements. Blumiere’s heart quivered with guilt.

They walked in a straight line for nearly five minutes. Eventually, Ronan hesitantly broke the silence.

“Oh, uh Blue?”

“ Blumiere. ”

“Blumiere… Didn’t yeh say yeh needed ‘elp earlier?”

He glanced at the boy. This child is testing me, he thought.

“Ah, yes. I was looking for some wildflowers for my mother.” Immediately Blumiere regretted his excuse. He drew a quick, shaky breath and glanced away, hoping Ronan wouldn’t notice his trembling. He wrung his hands together, hoping to quell the shivers.

Luckily, Ronan didn’t have much time to notice the Blumiere’s odd behavior, for suddenly the earth began to shake, and a rhythmic pounding rattled the trees. 

Blumiere's head snapped up, his eyes growing wide; he'd heard that sound before. Ronan looked around as well, though his gaze held curiosity rather than fear.

The Thing rumbled closer, more quickly this time than the last. 

"Ronan, get in the tree." Blumiere's heart pounded as he lifted the boy upwards onto the branch of a tree next to him. "Can you climb?"

"Of course! But, Blue…"

"Then climb! I'm coming up too." Blumiere heaved himself onto the first branch. It wobbled underneath his weight, causing him to grasp the trunk fearfully. Looking up, he saw Ronan sitting comfortably in the crook of a branch, already about five meters higher than him. Standing shakily, Blumiere began to slowly advance upwards.

"Mister Blue?"

" Blumiere, " he managed to correct, his voice quivering.

"Sorry. Why are we climbin’ the tree? I thought we were goin’ ‘ome…"

Finally pulling himself up to the branch below Ronan, Blumiere gasped in air, clutching the thin stick beneath him so hard his knuckles turned white. "The creature that chased me earlier is back. I figured—”

Ronan laughed at him, cutting him off. Blumiere, slightly offended, frowned and stared at the boy. "...What?"

The boy’s laugh became a giggle, and he began to descend the tree at a speed much faster than Blumiere could have managed.

"Ronan, wait! That thing is still down there!" he started to follow him, climbing downwards at a slower pace. He yelped softly as the branch beneath him cracked and bent sideways, throwing his weight off balance. He slipped, falling for a few mortifying seconds before his arms caught on a lower branch. He hung there, helpless, struggling to find a place to rest his feet, but Ronan had already touched the ground.

The black, round creature came into view. Blumiere squeezed his eyes shut, unable to watch.

"’Ey, Onyx! Come ‘ere, boy!"

Blumiere cracked an eye open. Onyx? The thing has a name? Suddenly, the branch holding him snapped, and he plummeted to the ground, screaming. He landed on his back, gasping for the air that had been driven out of his lungs.

'Onyx' barked and jumped, causing the ground to shake and the familiar thud to reverberate through the trees. He began to advance on Blumiere, who choked on a breath and backed up until he hit the tree. Onyx stopped right in front of Blumiere, who trembled, one eye closed and the other staring fearfully at the creature.

"Onyx, down boy! C'mere!"

Onyx turned towards the voice and bounced away.

"This is me pet chain chomp!” Ronan exclaimed. “‘Is name is Onyx." Ronan rubbed a hand over the smooth surface of his pet, beaming.

"So I've gathered," groaned Blumiere, standing slowly and stretching out his back. He couldn’t imagine why someone would want something so terrifying as a pet. 

"And guess what? Now that Onyx's ‘ere, we can find the way to me ‘ouse! Yeh know the way, don't yeh, boy?"

Of course. The chomp had been his key to freedom all along. Blumiere glowered as subtly as he could manage and muttered, “Alright then, Onyx. Show the way.”

Onyx barked and started off in the exact opposite direction they’d just been traveling. Ronan eagerly followed him. Blumiere reluctantly trailed behind, struggling to walk in sync with the tremors of the chain chomp's bouncing. With a longing glance at the sun, which reached for the horizon to his right, Blumiere sighed. He needed to leave the boy with his chomp and return to his own journey. However, with each step in the wrong direction, it became harder and harder for him to turn away. 

Ronan could get lost again, he convinced himself. I need to make sure he stays safe.

He stubbornly ignored the nagging voice accusing him of running away . 

Chapter Text

Remember  

Episode One: Far From Home

Chapter Three

“An’ one day I’ll live in a big ‘ouse in the forest with Onyx an’ ‘is kids, and it’ll be… spectacular!” 

The unlikely pair had only walked for a few moments in silence. Now, Ronan spoke in a constant flow of stories, quips, and comments. He spoke so fast, that Blumiere could hardly get a word in. So he nodded and smiled, still struggling to walk in the midst of Onyx’s bouncing. 

“An’ Melody will live with me, and you can too, Blue!” Ronan continued. “The three o’ us would have so much fun together!”

Blumiere bypassed correcting the use of his nickname and highlighted the more concerning part of Ronan’s statement. “I wouldn’t be able to live with you, Ronan.” He kept his voice light, trying to copy the jovial tone with which Ronan spoke. Though Ronan’s aspirations were as lofty as any child’s, Blumiere didn’t want to encourage an impossible dream. And he couldn’t very well have Ronan spreading the idea of a human living with a member of the Tribe of Darkness. 

Ronan left Onyx’s side and wandered to Blumiere’s side. “Yeh live in th’castle, right? Th’ big black one above Tiede?”

“Tiede?”

“Yeah!” Ronan scrunched his eyebrows together. “Oh, that’s th’ name o’ th’ town next door. ‘Ave yeh been there before?”

“I have,” Blumiere grumbled. He didn’t bother elaborating.

“It’s a nice place. Some o’ the people are kinda mean, though.”

“Where do you live?” Blumiere asked. He hadn’t been aware of another town near the castle. “If not in, er, Tiede?”

“Just outside. Kind of in th’ forest. I live with me nanna, an’ Kathleen lives next door. We all came in together. We haven’t been here very long, an’ Nanna says we’ll be more welcome as time passes.”

With every word out of Ronan’s mouth, Blumiere had several questions to follow. But Ronan’s last statement sent his mind down a different path. He wondered if the people of Tiede had driven Ronan and his family out of town, too.

“So yeh’re a king, then,” Ronan rambled on. “Yeh live in a castle, so yeh’ve got to be a king, right?”

“My father is the king,” Blumiere said.

“Oh! So yeh’re a prince!” Ronan’s blue eyes sparkled with wonderment. “Oh! Can Melody an’ I come live with you ? In yer castle?”

Blumiere shuddered at the thought. He really didn’t want to answer that question, especially since he had no idea how to explain to Ronan why he couldn’t come and visit the castle. So he replied with a question of his own: “You’ve mentioned this ‘Melody’ quite a bit now, Ronan. Is she a friend?”

Ronan frowned as Blumiere bypassed his question, but he perked up again as he said, “Melody is me best friend! We play together all the time, even though she’s really little.”

“How old is Melody?”

“She’s only six. But I’m almost nine!” Ronan grinned. “I’m really old!”

Blumiere chuckled at that. And I’m nearly twenty, he realized. I’ve lived more than twice as long as this child.

Suddenly, Ronan’s pet chain chomp began to bounce wildly. It jumped in place a few times before taking off into the forest. Before Blumiere could react, Ronan shot after it with a giggle. 

Now alone again, Blumiere sighed and trudged onward. Looking through the woods to his right, he realized he could see the silhouettes of houses from the humans’ town. They were far enough away that he likely wouldn’t be seen by any passersby, though Blumiere couldn’t help wringing his hands nervously.

 Soon he came upon a small clearing in the forest with two houses backed up against the trees. One house was simple and rectangular, painted a light shade of gray. The other, set perpendicular to the first, was slightly more complex and appeared to have two stories. This one was not painted but had layered wood siding and tar shingles. To the left of both houses, a large stream flowed in the direction of the town.

Ronan stood outside of the gray house, speaking to a young girl Blumiere assumed must be Melody. Onyx had settled down a few meters away. 

As Blumiere neared the two children, he deliberately stayed out of sight. He settled down behind a tree not far from the children and caught their conversation.

“Meanie-head!” Melody was saying, “I said no going into the forest! I looked and looked and I couldn’t find you, and I thought you died!”

“I’m sorry… But don’t worry, I’m never goin’ back in there again! It was really scary!” Ronan paused a moment. “But I made a new friend! Do yeh want to meet ‘im?” 

Blumiere flinched, already feeling his heartbeat quicken. In an effort to appear less like a lurking animal, he emerged from behind the tree and folded his hands politely behind his back.  

He made eye contact with Ronan, who beckoned him nearer. Upon catching sight of him, Melody ducked behind her friend, her eyebrows arched in both fear and curiosity. A light gray sundress twirled around her bare feet, and blonde hair tied up in pigtails fell over her shoulder. “Wh-who is that…?” she whispered.

“It’s me friend,” Ronan said. “It’s okay, ‘e’s nice. ‘Is name is Blue.”

Blumiere puffed a sigh out through his nose, determined to keep the frustration out of his tone. “Um… hello. I am Blumiere. I believe you are Melody, correct? Ronan’s friend?”

As he spoke the young girl giggled quietly, as if she couldn’t help herself. She whispered something to Ronan, who frowned at her. 

Blumiere raised an eyebrow confusedly. “Is that… incorrect?”

Instead of answering him, she burst into giggles again. “Ronan!” she sputtered, “You called him Ronan!”

“Is that not his name?” Blumiere deadpanned.

Melody shook her head, while Ronan nodded his. 

"His name is O'Chunks!” Melody grinned.

Blumiere smiled at the boy, amused by the child’s nickname. “O’Chunks? Is that what I should call you?”

“N-no…” the boy stuttered shyly. “Only Melody calls me that…” He shifted uncomfortably, his cheeks growing red. "Yeh, well… we better go ‘ome…"

Melody jolted suddenly and, turning to Ronan, she said, "Oh yeah! I heard your nanna calling for you. It’s almost your suppertime.”

Blumiere’s heart skipped a beat as he remembered his own suppertime. "Ronan,” he called hastily,  “I have to go." Blumiere suddenly found it hard to breathe. He tried to swallow, but his throat felt as though it were closing. Father! He'll be looking for me! He can't find out I left to visit the humans! 

"Wait!" cried Ronan, waving his arms frantically. "You'll come back, right? Ye ‘ave teh come back!"

Blumiere paused briefly, his heart pounding. "I'll be back," he said.

"Promise?"

Blumiere took a deep, strained breath. "I promise." He held Ronan’s gaze as he walked backward for three steps, and then turned towards the human town, beginning a race against the setting sun. He approached the stream with caution, relieved to find a small bridge across a portion of it. He crossed it, immediately veering deeper into the forest and away from the houses that were coming into view.

For most of the run, he kept to the outside of the town, weaving through the trees and keeping out of sight. However, he knew he'd have to go through it at some point, as the pathway to the hill where the castle resided was located at the beginning of the town. Even from here, he could see his home’s dark obsidian walls, casting a never-ending shadow over the houses.

As the entrance to town came into view, fear suddenly hit him full force. He's going to kill me! Ah, what was I thinking, entering the humans' town? I could have been… beaten, or… murdered!

He reached the cliff base, which by now was shrouded in darkness. A few meters away was the beginning of the cobblestone pathway that led to the castle. His foot touched the road hesitantly. No one was in the street, and it was unlikely that anyone would notice his skin color in the darkness, even if he was spotted. Despite all of this, Blumiere decided the best course of action would be to sprint down the street, praying to every star in the sky that no human would notice him.

The first path on the left led up the hill to the castle. It was blocked by a tall, black gate. He noticed a few humans mingling, whispering in groups down the pathway to the right, and he slipped through the gate as fast as he could so they wouldn't see him.

On the other side of the gate, a black stone path wove its way up the hill, mostly obscured by trees; he wouldn't have to worry about being seen from this side.

Wishing he could stop to catch his breath, Blumiere slowly dragged himself along the path, the elevation making it all the more difficult. Finally, after three turns, the castle entrance came into view. As the sun hid behind the obsidian walls, a few lanterns glowing with blue orbs lit the path.

Despite being a completely black castle, it had a very elegant look. The large arched doorway was free of the spikes and bars many thought might be blocking it, and instead contained two majestic black doors that closed together in the middle. They were decorated with light gray spirals, complete with a border of tiny blue hearts that alternated between right-side-up and upside-down.

The stone pathway branched at the door. To the left was a large garden filled with various flowers and shrubs that cast a sweet smell over the entrance of the castle. The right path led to a large courtyard containing a small chapel used for marriages, and very rarely used at that. The only marriage Blumiere could remember was the one that took place two years ago, uniting his oldest brother with his first cousin. 

The entire castle was complex and tall, with many spiraling towers and long hallways all decorated in black, bright red, and navy. Thick trees and bushes covered the very edge of the cliff, obscuring the view from the townspeople; they had no idea what it truly looked like.

Blumiere placed his hand on the gracefully crafted loop door handle and pushed, only to stumble forwards as the door opened faster from the inside.

A tall man was standing there, blocking his way. He had the same blue skin and black hair as Blumiere, but his hair was short and choppy, and his eyes glowed a blue much deeper than that of the younger man's. He was dressed in a bright red robe with black silks underneath.

Quickly straightening up, Blumiere dipped his head. "Good evening, Aldrik."

The older man also bowed his head, a slightly irritated expression on his face. "Blumiere. Your father has been looking for you."

“Ah, yes," Blumiere stuttered. "I was in the gardens…with mother's oleanders."

Aldrik hummed. "I understand. But your father sent me looking earlier, and you most certainly weren't in the gardens then."

"Yes, well, I did pay Mother's grave a visit. Perhaps you came to look for me when I was at the tomb. You must have missed me."

It had been just over seven years, now, since his mother had passed. He still visited her grave often, so it was a viable excuse. Aldrik nodded and opened the door completely, letting Blumiere in.

They traveled down the black hallway, brightened by red and blue carpeting and banners, as well as patterned wall sconces lit with blue flames that flickered wildly. "My apologies," Aldrik murmured. "I forget you still pay visits to Queen Anastaise often. Perhaps I'm due to pay her my respects as well, I haven't been there in a while."

Blumiere laughed once in a quiet and humorless manner, a melancholy smile on his face. He really hadn't meant to bring up this conversation. "I'm sure she'd appreciate that."

They continued to the end of the hall in silence, coming to another large doorway similar to the outside one. It led to the Grand Hall, where his father and family were no doubt waiting for him with supper.

Upon entering the room, Blumiere's father got up from his chair at the long table and rushed over. Aldrik bowed.

"King Basile," he said, keeping his eyes lowered. "Blumiere just returned from visiting the late Queen. He explained that this was his reason for his tardiness to dinner."

Basile placed a hand on his son's shoulder and looked him in the eyes, the deep sorrow hidden within his blue irises now quite evident. He didn't say a word but nodded once in understanding.

Blumiere took his place between his closest brother Rene and his cousin and sister-in-law, Arabelle. Neither looked at him.

As the small family of eleven ate, various conversations drifted about. Blumiere didn't speak, however, and only picked at his food, occasionally looking up to glance at his family. The silence felt more suffocating than it ever had. Did Ronan eat like this? Were human dinners spent in quiet reminiscence with nothing new to inspire conversation?

He yearned to go back. And he’d made a promise to Ronan.

Blumiere chewed a bit of carrot with new resolve.

He would go back.

Chapter Text

Remember

Episode Two: Shifting

Chapter One

“What’s wrong?” Blumiere ran to catch up with his elder brother. “Stop running from me!”

Dorian kept walking, his longer strides keeping him steadily ahead of Blumiere. “I’m not talking to you right now.”

“Why not? What’s wrong? Why is everyone acting so strange?”

“Go away , Blumiere. I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

He’d never heard Dorian like this. Blumiere’s heart raced faster as he recognized the strained quality of a voice close to tears. 

“It has something to do with mother, hasn’t it?” Blumiere’s own voice raised to hysterics. “Did she come back? Did something happen to her?”

“They killed her!” The raw despair in Dorian’s tone nearly knocked Blumiere off his feet. “Those blasted humans killed her!”

Nearly a week passed by before Blumiere snuck out of the castle again.

His father had never doubted his cover-up, as far as Blumiere could tell, but Blumiere’s heart still pounded with anticipation every time he thought of returning to Tiede. Besides, Aldrik seemed to be frequenting the front foyer as of late, as if monitoring the front door. With only twelve of them in the castle, there were plenty of other places for Aldrik to be spending his alone time. 

But today, as Blumiere entered the sitting room just beyond the foyer, he reached out for his uncle’s soul signature and found he couldn’t sense it at all. Aldrik could be anywhere, but for the moment neither he nor anyone else occupied the foyer or the area outside the front door. He searched a little further, pushing his capabilities as far as they would go, but sensing any further than the front lawn only gave him a headache.

Blumiere emerged from the castle, glad to be free from the confining building. He immediately felt the sun’s rays sinking into his black cloak, and with a sigh, he unclasped it. He didn’t want to return it to his room now that he’d finally escaped unnoticed, so over his arm it went, draped like a curtain. He could breathe easier in his button-down, at least, though it, too, was black. 

Oh, how I’d love to dress in the humans’ clothes. The colors of their clothing varied as much as their personalities, their foods, their traditions. Blumiere longed to experience the eccentricities of every aspect of the humans’ lives. 

Of course, he’d have to make it to Tiede first, and he’d have to make it unnoticed. He couldn’t waltz through the gate like he’d done last time, not in broad daylight. Luckily, he’d spotted a different route during his last excursion, one that presently remained untested.

A quiver passed through his chest as he stepped onto the slope toward Tiede. He could barely see the houses through the trees, but even being this close, he felt as though their eyes were on him. He threw one more glance over his shoulder at the castle, prayed to the stars that his family wasn’t watching him either, and then disappeared down the pathway. 

The trail consisted of four sections, each ending on a small plateau before it zagged into the next section. Blumiere stopped at the plateau the furthest down the path. From here, he stood nerve-wrackingly close to Tiede. Only a row of trees separated him from the edge of town.

In the middle of the spot of level ground, a wooden bench sat, aged with time. Moss and vines had begun to eat away at the weathered surface, and Blumiere suspected it might not hold his weight if he sat on it. Beyond that, a stretch of bushes provided a barrier between the bench and a steep slope that led into the forest just outside of Tiede. If Blumiere could make it through the bushes and down the hill, he’d be safe. 

Well, as safe as a tribesman could be so close to the humans, anyway. 

He waded experimentally into the thick bushes. As expected, the branches tugged at his trousers, and the unexpected prick of a thorn breaching the fabric made him jolt. Mildly frustrated, he balled up his cloak and tossed it ahead of him into the trees to free up both of his hands, and pushed aside the branches as best he could.

Wincing with every step, Blumiere finally reached the other side of the bushes. He inspected his trousers, expecting to find them in tatters. A few frayed threads poked out here and there; nothing too noticeable. Still, he clicked his tongue and tried to smooth them down as a twinge of worry settled in his stomach. 

Straightening, Blumiere inspected the sharp decline in front of him. Loose dirt and rocks crumbled around his feet; some of the bushes’ roots had been unearthed over time and were now poking out of the edge of the slope. With nothing to hold onto overhead, a step over the edge would surely send Blumiere sliding down to the bottom. 

Well, if he could keep himself upright, it couldn’t be too bad. Right?

He took a step forward and simultaneously discovered that staying upright was terrifying and that scooting down on his rear, embarrassing though it was, got him to the bottom efficiently enough. 

His cloak had landed in a crumpled heap nearby. He snagged it as he stood and, after brushing the dirt off of his clothing, shook it out with a grimace.

Next time, he’d find a different route. Or he’d bring a change of clothes. 

Looking around, he saw that he stood on the very edge of town; he could see the brick walls of houses through the trees, as well as the entrance he had used during his first experience in Tiede. By walking alongside the town through the trees, he’d be able to reach Ronan’s house. 

After a short recovery, Blumiere began moving slowly through the thin line of forest, trying to keep behind the trees so he wouldn’t be spotted from the town. He’d already contemplated heading further into the woods and traveling at a distance, but he didn’t want to risk getting lost.

A smudge of bright green up ahead halted him in his tracks. Eyes narrowed, he studied the shape in the grass and determined it to be humanoid, but… something about it felt off. He crept closer.

Crumpled in between two roots of a tall tree, a young girl lay. She didn’t move at all, not even to breathe, it seemed. Dread prickled Blumiere’s skin as he approached her, but didn’t compare to his confusion. As far as he could tell, this girl was not human. Though she wore a bright dress like the human children, the skin it covered was light green in complexion, like the leaves of an oak tree in the spring. Her hair, tied into pigtails with red ribbons, was as dark green as the grass beneath her. Blumiere’s brow furrowed. Had there been a race of green-skinned people living in the forest all this time?

His foot brushed the edge of the tree’s roots. Kneeling, he watched her chest for movement and listened for the sound of breathing. Nothing. 

“Oh, no,” he whispered, questions and concerns bubbling to the surface of his mind as he stared at the inert child. “Oh, what happened to you?” Hesitantly, he touched her wrist, but he lost all hope that she could be alive upon feeling her cold, pulseless skin.

With a sympathetic frown, he laid his cloak over her. Perhaps he could move her someplace safer, or bury her. Anything to prevent her body from rotting beneath this tree. But as he contemplated, a slight movement caught his attention. Sticking out from beneath the dark fabric of his cloak, a green hand stirred in the leaf mold.

With a shaky jerk, Blumiere leaped to his feet. Moments later, the girl sat up with a gasp. The cloak fell away from her face and she snapped her head in his direction. She peered at him with wide, rust-colored eyes, and Blumiere could do nothing more than stare back, dumbfounded. 

“Blue,” the girl finally said. The word crawled from her throat in a hoarse whisper. It rang with familiarity; as if she were calling him by name. 

A sudden realization pierced its way through his bafflement. “Melody?” It had to be, even though she looked nothing like the girl he’d seen with Ronan. “You… you were dead just a moment ago. How…?”

She shook her head, never taking her eyes off of him. “No. Just asleep.”

Impulsively, his hand touched the bare skin on her shoulder. Warmth emanated from it now, and a slow pulse beat against his fingertips. She’d been cold . Surely he hadn’t imagined it.

“And you can’t call me Melody anymore,” she said. “Melody is my name for when I’m a human.”

With every word out of the young girl’s mouth, Blumiere had more questions. His heart still fluttered with the thought that she was dead, and his mind struggled just as much to keep up. “Who are you, then?” The words came straight from his lungs, breathed out with an uncertain sigh. “What are you?”

“My name is Mimi. And I don’t know what I am.” Her voice had an upward tilt, almost cheerful in timbre, accompanied by a shrug and a smile.

“But you’re not human?”

“I can be if I want to be.”

Blumiere raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

She pushed the cloak off of her lap and stood up. Before Blumiere could think to help her to her feet, she trounced off through the trees, away from Tiede. “I can change,” she called over her shoulder, “into whoever I want. I change into humans a lot. I could even change into you. But this is what I look like normally.”

Snagging his cloak off the ground, Blumiere followed after Mimi. “Why do you change?” 

“‘Cause I have to.” Mimi ducked under a low-hanging branch. “Otherwise the real humans get mad.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No! I wouldn’t do it if it hurt.”

Blumiere frowned. “Then...why don’t you stay as a human all the time?” If he had a way to turn into a human, he’d do it in a heartbeat. “And, and how did you learn to do this?”

“Well…” Mimi drew out the word. She jumped onto the root of a nearby tree and scrutinized Blumiere, as if to decide whether or not he was worthy of knowing. “There’s this really pretty girl in town. Melody. I turn into her all the time. But today, it stopped working, and none of the other humans look pretty enough.”

Blumiere waited for her to answer the second question, and was disappointed when she leaped off the root and continued walking. “Why, why did it stop working?” He asked, stepping over the root with great care to avoid the mud puddle on the other side of it. 

“I don’t know!”

“Is that why you died beneath that tree?”

“I told you,” Mimi groaned, “I was asleep .”

“Why were you sleeping in the middle of the forest?”

“Why do you ask so many questions?”

Falling silent, Blumiere turned sideways and shimmied in between a patch of bushes Mimi had tramped through without a problem. On the other side, the trees thinned out, and soon Blumiere joined Mimi on the edge of a meadow. 

It occurred to Blumiere he hadn’t asked the most important question of all: “Where are we going?”

Mimi took a few steps away and then turned to face him. The yellow dress she wore twirled around her ankles, shadowing her movements. “Come on,” she said, walking back and grabbing his hand with her small fingers. “You’ll see!”

Blumiere, finding her sudden attraction to his hand a bit unordinary, shifted his hand so he could hold hers properly. She tugged him toward the meadow, and he allowed her to guide him.

Flowers in a rainbow of colors dappled the meadow’s long grass, swaying in the light breeze. Fat bumblebees hovered lazily from stamen to stamen, collecting pollen, and butterflies fluttered to and fro, making the meadow seem alive with movement. 

 “There!” Mimi pointed toward a small, dark shape on the horizon.

“Is that a house?” Blumiere vowed the next sentence to come out of his mouth would not be a question.

“Mhmm! The Nice Lady lives there.”

Mimi did not elaborate further. Biting his tongue, Blumiere tried desperately to piece together the information he already had.

“This lady must be like us, then,” he speculated. “Different from the humans.”

She swung her head to give him a smug look. “No, she’s human. She’s just a really nice one. She’s helped me before; she knows I can look like this.”

But has she ever encountered someone from the Tribe of Darkness? Blumiere didn’t dare give a voice to his worries. But the nearer they drew to the house, the more his skin prickled with anxiety. 

Mimi hasn’t done anything wrong. But my Tribe has . She would have good reason to be afraid of me.

Still, a part of him refused to shy away from meeting this woman. She lived outside of town, just like Ronan, so maybe she, too, would be different. Maybe she wouldn’t fear him. 

Mimi suddenly let go of his hand and raced away, jolting Blumiere out of his thoughts. They’d neared the wooden cottage, and Mimi had already raced up the steps of the porch to knock on the front door. The sound of her knuckles rapping the wood sent shivers down Blumiere’s spine.

After a moment of silence, Mimi knocked again.

“She’s not home,” The girl shrugged. “She’s probably in town.”

Blumiere sighed, a mixture of disappointment and relief exiting with the breath. “Alright. So where—”

“We have to wait until noon,” Mimi said, hopping back down the porch steps. “Then we can go to O’Chunks’ house because his Nana will be gone.”

That would explain why she hadn’t gone there first, Blumiere realized. In truth, after finding Mimi he hadn’t thought of Ronan at all.  

“Let’s leave now,” he said, with a glance at the ascending sun. “We should arrive at Ronan’s shortly after noon.” 

Chapter Text

Remember

Episode Two: Shifting

Chapter Two

“Good morning, Dakota!” Timpani greeted her customer with a smile, “It’s good to see you!” She stepped around her market stall, cupping a newly-bloomed peony with her hand as she passed. “What’s the occasion? Would you like another bouquet for Serena?”

Dakota rolled a strand of her long, dark hair between two fingers. “Not this time,” she said.

Busing herself with straightening a pot of cornflowers, Timpani tried not to acknowledge the sudden heaviness in the air. 

“They’re for Sarah’s little girl,” Dakota said. “Something pink. That was her favorite color.”

A chill rushed through Timpani’s blood. “Wait, is…? How is she doing? Did she…?” 

“She passed last night,” Dakota whispered. 

“Oh no… Sarah must be devastated.”

Both women endured a moment of silence while Timpani returned to the peonies. She plucked three of the best from their vase and tied them together with a pink ribbon. Rounding the corner of her stall to another pot, she bunched a ring of meadowsweet around the peonies to give the bouquet more volume. 

“When is the funeral?” Timpani asked softly as she tied a second ribbon around the bundle. 

“Tomorrow morning.” 

 “I’ll give you a vase, then.” Timpani inserted the bouquet into a small white vase and passed it across to Dakota.

“They never figured out what she was sick with, you know,” Dakota murmured. 

Timpani shook her head. “It’s a wonder the rest of the family didn’t get sick. Poor thing. I know she could barely stand last time I saw her.”

“Sarah stayed by her side the entire time. It must not have been contagious.” Dakota shifted on her feet, brow furrowed. “So sorry to bring you bad news first thing in the morning.”

“I’d rather hear it from you than from town gossip.” Timpani forced a cordial smile. “Hopefully next time you buy flowers from me, it will be for a happier occasion.”

Ronan met Blumiere and Mimi in the clearing just outside his house. He perked up as he saw them approaching and bounded across the forest floor, grinning.

“Blue? I thought yeh’d never come back!” He launched himself forwards, and Blumiere was unprepared for the child’s gleeful bear-hug. “What took yeh so…” The orange-haired boy trailed off as he saw Mimi. He glanced back and forth between the girl and Blumiere, a look of bewilderment on his face. At last, he released the man and turned to the green-skinned girl.

“Mimi…?” he whispered, in a voice just loud enough for Blumiere to hear. 

Mimi studied the ground with her ruby-red eyes and folded her arms behind her back, rocking slightly on her feet. “Yeah?” she squeaked in reply. 

“What ‘appened?”

“I dunno, it stopped working.”

“Stopped working?”

“The human one, it’s not working!”

By now the conversation had escalated to where Blumiere could hear every word. “So what‘re yeh goin’ teh do?” Ronan inquired anxiously. “Don’t think me Nanna’ll let yeh stay if yer skin’s green…”

Mimi shrugged her petite shoulders, still studying the grass at her feet. 

Ronan turned worried eyes to Blumiere. “What do we do?”

Blumiere furrowed his brow, thinking back over what he’d learned about Mimi so far. “Mimi, you just need to find someone else to turn into, right?”

“I don’t want someone else,” Mimi said. “I want Melody. She’s the prettiest girl, I don’t wanna be anyone else.”

Ronan piped up before Blumiere could attempt to persuade her. “Oh! I know! She could live with you, Blue!” 

“I don’t think—” 

Mimi turned on him, eyes sparkling. “Ooh! Can I, Blue? Please?”

The man reluctantly shook his head. “My father would not allow it. And my name—”

“Why not?” Ronan and Mimi’s voices raised the same question.

A frustrated sigh huffed out of Blumiere. “My father…” How was he to explain this? “My father does not trust, er, newcomers. Specifically, he does not trust anyone outside of the tribe.”

“He can trust me ,” Mimi said. “I can be good if I want.”

He wouldn’t give you the chance to prove it, Blumiere thought. As much as he didn’t want the human’s rumors to bear truth, he knew Mimi would not fair well in the castle. She might not even survive. Blumiere shuddered at the thought of Mimi’s inert body, the same way he’d found her beneath the tree. No, he couldn’t let that happen.

“We’ll think of something else,” Blumiere said. “Maybe Ronan could look for another girl.”

“There won’t be one,” Mimi grumbled, though Blumiere could hear resignation in her tone.

“I can do tha’ for yeh, Mimi,” Ronan said. Then, his eyes brightened. “Oh yeah! I got yeh a present, Blue!”

“Oh?” Blumiere raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I was playin’ in the stream yesterday,” the boy continued, drawing a small object out of his pocket, “and I found this stone… Look Blue, it matches yer skin!”

Ronan presented Blumiere with a brilliant cerulean stone. He stepped closer, urging Blumiere to accept the gift.

“It’s wonderful, Ronan.” Blumiere let Ronan drop the stone into his open palm. It felt smooth against his skin. “You have a good eye for picking this out.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Blumiere noticed that Mimi had disappeared and was now returning, holding her hands behind her back.

“ I have a present for you, too!” she exclaimed, skipping up to him excitedly and revealing what she was hiding. Three yellow flowers were clutched in her tiny hands, freshly picked. The impromptu nature of the gift didn’t stop Blumiere from taking it as a heartfelt gesture.

“Thank you, Mimi. They’re beautiful. And thank you, Ronan, for the stone.” 

When Blumiere looked back up at the children, their expressions had changed. They both stared into the woods behind him, eyes wide with horror. Before he could turn around, he heard a voice that sent a shiver down his spine.

“ Blumiere. ” 

Ronan and Mimi cowered, staring at the imposing figure whose tall shadow covered Blumiere in darkness. Finding it hard to breathe, he drew a choppy gasp of air and gathered the courage to turn around.

“Father, I…I wasn’t expecting to see you here…”

King Basile took a step closer. “Nor did I expect to find you here. Explain yourself.” 

The precision with which Blumiere’s father spoke betrayed the fury behind his cool stare. And before Blumiere could attempt an explanation, Basile’s gaze flicked to the forest behind him. Looking over his shoulder, Blumiere saw that Ronan and Mimi had advanced to stand behind him. Both children trembled, and Mimi peered defiantly from behind her friend’s arm, but Ronan had a determined look on his face. 

King Basile strode forwards, getting as close as he dared to the children. He glared at them with such malice that even Ronan couldn’t help but cower. Flinching, Blumiere tried to step in between his father and the children. “Wait—”

“ Humans ?” When Basile finally spoke, it was in a voice full of anger and bewilderment. The volume of his resounding reprimand increased as he continued, “You left the safety of our castle and crossed the boundaries into the town, so you could associate with humans ?” 

Blumiere swallowed. “Well—”

“An’ what’s wrong with ‘umans, eh?” Ronan cut in, his voice quivering. “Besides, Blue was only ‘elpin’ us! ‘E’s our friend!”

A chill numbed Blumiere’s limbs as his father’s gaze returned to him. 

The king wasted all of his pent-up anger on one sentence. “You… made friends … with humans ?”

Blumiere clenched his teeth and scowled. He bowed his head so his father wouldn’t see it and made another attempt at blocking the children from Basile’s view. He wanted to say something, to make his father see the innocence in Mimi and Ronan, but his mouth wouldn’t even open. 

Basile waited a mere three seconds before he commanded, “Come, Blumiere. It is time to go home. Say goodbye to your friends, for you shall never see them again.”

The prince’s head shot up, despair and frustration prominent in his expression. His eyes widened as he said, “No, father, you don’t understand!” He took a full step closer to Mimi and Ronan. “These children, they aren’t the monsters you think they are! You’re wrong about them, father! They’re nothing like the humans who killed mother, and the others only hate us because they’re afraid ! And they have reason to be!”

Blumiere leaned back, breathing heavily. King Basile’s venomous glare snuffed out his defiance; the frustration on Blumiere’s face melted into fear. Dread wormed its way into his stomach as he realized what he’d just said.

Basile’s eyes narrowed to slits, and his head tilted forwards so his black hair fell onto his brow. His blue skin flushed dark purple across his cheeks. In a flash, he’d seized the prince’s arm. “Blumiere,” he growled, “we are going home, now. ”

The last thing Blumiere saw before his father teleported them both back to the castle was Ronan and Mimi, standing side-by-side, with identical looks of horror on their faces.

The Tribe of Darkness gathered in the grand dining hall, seated around the dark, rectangular table. Not a single member was missing, though there were only eleven of them, including Blumiere.

This meeting, called to address Blumiere’s ‘insubordination’, made Blumiere sick to his stomach. He wanted to disappear. He might have if he were able to teleport without his soul signature giving away his new location. 

So he stood still beside his father’s chair and refrained from leaning on it (which he’d already been reprimanded for once). He watched the faces of his family members as Basile recounted their meeting in the forest, wallowing in their bland disappointment.

Perhaps the worst part of this gathering was the deep feeling of dread and unknowing that had taken home in his stomach. What would his father… do? He couldn’t condemn him to the castle; they were all stuck here anyway. Other than that, though… the only thing he could think of was banishment. However, in the back of Blumiere’s mind hid the worst possible condemnation. Surely his father couldn’t condemn him to… death?

Shaking his head slowly, Blumiere pushed away his thoughts. Bowing his head, he remained still and listened to Basile’s gruff voice.

“This morning I found Blumiere in the forest outside of the humans’ town. Not only had he traveled outside of the castle’s boundaries, but he was speaking with two human children.”

Blumiere dared to glance upwards momentarily. He happened to make eye contact with his eldest brother, Abany, but the older man immediately looked away. Blumiere averted his eyes as well, trying to stave off a wave of shame.

“No one is to leave the castle grounds. I needn’t remind you why.” Basile’s voice raised slightly. Blumiere heard the unspoken implications: remember what happened to Queen Anastaise?

The young prince felt the stares of his tribemates. They still kept silent, of course, but Blumiere could imagine what they were thinking. Bravely, he lifted his head to look across the table to the other end, where Aldrik sat. His uncle caught his gaze and held it, staring with discreet concern.

Is he… worried about me? Blumiere had to look away. His uncle’s expression put him on edge, though he couldn’t say why.

“Blumiere’s breach of this regulation cannot go unpunished.”

Blumiere couldn’t suppress the shiver that sped down his spine.

“So, after discussing this matter with Aldrik, we have decided that Blumiere shall be put under room arrest for a full rotation of the moon. He will eat his meals alone until the time is over, and will only be allowed to associate with whoever is guarding his room at the time.”

Heat crept up Blumiere’s neck and onto his face. Room arrest. A suitable punishment for a child. 

“You are dismissed, Tribesmates.”

As one, each member rose from their chairs and quietly left the room. Blumiere knew, of course, that they certainly wouldn’t stay quiet. As soon as they would leave the room there would be whispers, gossip about him. The thought made his stomach tighten.

At last, only he and his father remained. Basile rose from his chair and finally spoke to Blumiere directly. 

“Ancient blood, Blumiere, what were you thinking? You could have been killed.” 

Blumiere felt a hand on his shoulder. He met his father’s dark blue eyes and noticed a deep weariness that betrayed the man’s anxiety. “They are children , father,” he muttered. “They wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“When raised by monsters, even children are capable of horrible things.”

“You haven’t even—”

“My son,” Basile cut in firmly, “I know you feel that this punishment is unjust, but I want you to understand: I don’t know what I would do if I lost you, too.”

Blumiere detected a slight quiver in his father’s voice that churned his stomach. Turning away, Blumiere shrugged off his father’s hand. He strode off toward his room without another word, and Basile made no move to stop him.

Chapter Text

Remember

Episode Two: Shifting

Chapter Three

Despite the warmth of the mid-summer air, Ronan shivered. He stood in complete bewilderment, staring at the space between two trees where Blumiere had been standing just moments ago. He tried his best to remain calm.

“Is Blue gonna come back?” Mimi whispered, looking up at her older companion with fear in her ruby eyes. 

Ronan didn’t have an answer to that, but he pretended like he did. “‘E wouldn’t leave us, Mimi, don’ worry. ‘E’ll come back.” He fought desperately to keep his own voice from shaking.

“Maybe we should go find him.”

Angling his head upward, Ronan tried to catch sight of the black castle through the leaves. “‘E might be in ‘is castle.”

Mimi kicked a bit of dirt with her bare foot. “Should we go see?”

Neither of them moved, and neither of them spoke the answer to that question: going to the castle would be far too scary.

“So,” Mimi finally said, “What do we do now?”

Ronan couldn’t come up with an answer for that question. His nanna would probably come home before Blumiere did, and Mimi was stuck green. They couldn’t do anything with her in this condition. 

“Um, are yeh sure yeh can’t turn into a ‘uman anymore?”

“Not that one,” Mimi sighed. “I can’t even go into town to look for another girl. And besides, I want to keep the old one. She was so pretty.” 

Ronan glanced sidelong at the green-skinned girl. “Yeh never told me yeh were usin’ someone else’s face.”

“I thought you’d think it was weird,” Mimi said with a shrug.

“Never mind that,” Ronan said as a revelation struck him. “That don’t matter anymore! I just thought of somethin’! You can turn into me , and we can pretend to be twins! Then we can go back into town and find you a new ‘uman to turn into.”

A broad grin split Mimi’s face and her eyes brightened. “O’Chunks! You’re a genius,” she giggled. A purple cloud of smoke engulfed Mimi without further delay, and when it cleared, an exact copy of Ronan stood in her place.

“Woah.” The boy’s jaw dropped in awe. “That’s… Do I really look like that?” 

Mimi laughed, even her voice sounding identical to her friend’s. “I did a good job, huh? Exactly like you!” 

Ronan chuckled as well, nodding his head. “It’s brilliant! Although… Yeh might need some ‘elp with the voice.”

“Oh yeah,” Mimi said. “‘Ow’s this? Ah’m O’Chunks, teh bravest warrior in teh whole world!”

“‘Ey! I do not say that!” Ronan’s face flushed. “And, and, don’t call me that in front of the townspeople!”

“Don’t worry, ah won’t. Can we go now?” 

“Ah, right!” Ronan exclaimed. “Let’s go find yeh a pretty ‘uman teh turn into!”

Blumiere lay on his back across the foot of his bed, staring out the window at the setting sun: the end of the first day in his room-turned-prison. Dark clouds encroached upon his view. 

 With each hour, his octagonally-shaped room grew more and more claustrophobic. The only window provided an excellent lookout from the top of the southeast tower, but it offered no means of escape unless he wanted to bury himself in his mother’s garden.  

After nearly five hours, boredom numbed Blumiere’s limbs. The shelf full of books across from his bed no longer seemed inviting. He’d read most of them, and the ones he hadn’t failed to interest him.

Perhaps he could request that more books be brought to him. Father would allow that, surely, he hoped. Or maybe I could play chess with someone… Ah, anything but laying around for a month!

But even worse than the punishment itself was the concept of it. He, a nearly twenty-year-old man, had been sent to his room as though he were a young boy. Blumiere thought for sure that his brothers would never let him live this down. 

Blumiere’s father had every reason to mistrust the humans. But his mistrust had blinded him to the fact that not all humans were the same. They didn’t all have the intent to kill them, even if the prime example came in the form of two young children. If Ronan and Mimi could be persuaded to see the true intentions of the Tribe of Darkness, perhaps other humans could as well.

His stomach churned as he thought of Ronan and Mimi. Would Mimi be okay? He hoped the ‘Nice Lady’ would take care of her, but since he’d never met this woman, he couldn’t be certain she would protect Mimi. 

A jolt of fear struck his heart as his thoughts wandered back to his father. Father wouldn’t seek them out to hurt them, would he?

At that moment, his door creaked open. With a start, Blumiere flung himself into a sitting position and brushed his hair out of his eyes. Aldrik stood in the doorway, carrying a tray with some food on it. 

“Good evening, Blumiere,” he said, setting the tray down on his bedside table.

“Good evening,” Blumiere returned politely, still smoothing his hair down. With nothing else to say, he waited for Aldrik to leave so he could eat his food.

However, Aldrik moved over to the door only to shut it again, before turning back to the prince. He sat down on the bed next to Blumiere and turned to him.

“Blumiere,” he sighed, “I need to speak with you.”

Blumiere shifted, subtly scooting over to put more space between him and Aldrik. Thinking back to how strangely his uncle had been acting recently, Blumiere’s heart raced with anticipation.

But Aldrik didn’t say anything else. Instead, he sat with his hands folded in his lap and narrowed his eyes. He wore the same expression Blumiere had noticed earlier, at the meeting.

Feeling as though the older man wanted confirmation to go on, Blumiere urged, “Yes? What about?”

A troubled look overwhelmed the man’s eyes. Raising his head with much effort, he finally began, “I...I don’t know how to tell you, Blumiere, except for speaking outright. You have a cousin, one you didn’t previously know about. He… he is my son, as well as the son of Sha’i.”

Blumiere’s head spun. Sha’i? Who was that? Why would Aldrik hide the presence of his son from their family? And why… Why is he telling me ?

Noticing his nephew’s furrowed brow, Aldrik hurriedly continued. “I know this may be overwhelming, Blumiere, but Sha’i was… well– Well, she was human , and…”

Blumiere put a hand to his forehead. “A human,” he muttered, shaking his head slightly. “Father doesn’t know… does he?” 

Aldrik’s hands quivered. “No… no, no, no one knows. I don’t know what King Basile would do…”

Standing up, Blumiere gestured to the walls around him. “For being friends with human children I’ve been locked in here for a month. What do you think he’d do if he found out you had a child with one?” He began pacing. “Father can’t lock you in your room . But perhaps in the dungeon, or perhaps he’d banish you.”

“Blumiere!”

“Because he’s still trying to avenge mother’s death, and he thinks that by associating with the humans we are shaming her.” Glancing outside, he noticed the clouds had darkened. “Those children were harmless! But father—”

“ Blumiere, ” Aldrik rose next to the younger man and placed a hand on his shoulder. He spoke in a hushed voice as if he were afraid Basile might be listening to them. “I didn’t come here to dispute the decisions of your father. He is a wise man, but his thoughts have been clouded. You don’t know how much he frets… He thinks he’s failing the Tribe, Blumiere.”

Blumiere understood. He’d seen the look of exhaustion in his father’s eyes, the way his shoulders sagged when one of his brothers would question his authority. “ You’re not a wielder, father,” They’d say. “Perhaps you’re not making the right decisions…” 

Basile was not the firstborn of Blumiere’s grandparents. Basile’s older brother, Henri, was an extremely powerful magician and was assumed to be the next wielder of the Dark Prognosticus. However, Henri died when he was seven years old, forcing the crown upon the next in line to the throne: Basile. Unlike his brother, the Dark Prognosticus did not call to him, and he had limited magical abilities. Even worse, Basile’s firstborn son, Abany, didn’t feel the pull of the Dark Prognosticus either. The Tribe’s power was vanishing with each generation, and King Basile took the blame for it.

A distant rumble echoed outside. Blumiere glanced away from Aldrik’s intense stare and turned to the window. “So… what then? What is the reason you came to tell me these things?”

“Sha’i is gone, Blumiere. She left after nursing our child and I haven’t seen her since.”

Aldrik stepped up to the window next to his nephew. “But I think you can find her.”

After processing this comment for a moment, Blumiere backed away. “Are you proposing that I should escape?”

“I can help you, Blumiere.”

“How?”

Without warning, the door flew open and crashed against the wall, revealing the stern-faced King Basile. “Aldrik!” he bellowed, “Blumiere is not to have company. Let him alone.”

“I was delivering his dinner as you requested,” Aldrik said, his tone steady. He started for the doorway, nodding to Blumiere in a silent farewell. 

“It’s been ten minutes.” Basile’s glare followed his younger brother as he approached, scrutinizing him. “You know full well that Blumiere is to be alone . Come now.” Aldrik made his exit, and before Basile followed suit he turned to his son; his gaze had softened. “Goodnight, Blumiere.” He shut the door.

The young man backed up, coming to a halt once he reached his bed. His heart hammered in his chest and blood roared in his ears as he tried to calm himself.

What had his father heard? Were they lucky enough that he hadn’t caught the end of their conversation? Quivering, Blumiere sat on the edge of his mattress and held his head in his hands. Aldrik was about to get him out of here, too… He was so close to being able to find Ronan and Mimi, so close to escaping. What about that… Sha’i? Blumiere wondered. He was still finding it hard to believe that his uncle had a child… A cousin he never knew about. A child with a human mother, no less.

A loud crack of thunder sent chills down his spine. A flash of light illuminated the sky, followed closely by another thunderclap. Rain began to pour from the clouds, beating hard against the glass window pane. The sconce on the wall next to the window vibrated madly, threatening to spill the blue flame that it held.

Flopping back onto his bed, Blumiere stared at his ceiling in confusion. He inhaled deeply, trying to calm his thoughts, and suddenly the smell of warm food met his nose. Sitting up, he realized he’d completely forgotten about his dinner. 

A bowl of chicken soup and a warm roll sat on the tray, as well as a glass of water. Eagerly taking it, he ate until he was full, battling with his thoughts all the while.

As autumn approached and cooler weather came to the small world, the sky darkened earlier and earlier. It was about eight o’clock, Blumiere guessed. Since he had nothing else to do, he figured now was as good a time as any to get some rest. Just as he stood to change into his nightclothes, a peculiar sound startled him. He whirled around.

“Aldrik?” Blumiere’s surprised expression suddenly turned fearful; then furious. “Aldrik! What are you doing? You know father can track your signature; he’ll know you’ve come—”

Aldrik held up his hand, silencing his nephew. “Hush, Blumiere. I would not be so foolish. Your father has no idea I’m here.”

Again, perplexity overwhelmed Blumiere as he realized he hadn’t felt Aldrik’s soul signature move. Staring at his uncle in bewilderment, Blumiere’s cerulean gaze narrowed.

“I’ve cloaked my signature,” Aldrik said, “but it’s only temporary. Now quickly, we must get you out of here—”

“No,” Blumiere objected. “I need to know what’s going on here. How did you cloak your signature? I may be the least educated in teleportation and certainly the last one to use it, but I know enough to say that cloaking your signature hasn’t been possible for decades!”

Aldrik turned to look out the window, avoiding Blumiere’s demanding glare. “Yes, well… There are many things you are not well educated in.” 

Blumiere scoffed.

“There are many spells that still exist, but they are not used because your grandfather forbade them when he called for peace between the humans and the Tribe of Darkness.” 

The young man narrowed his eyes. He had a feeling Aldrik wasn’t telling the whole truth.

Aldrik turned, facing his nephew once more. “But this matters not. Give me your hands, Blumiere.”

Taken aback, Blumiere did not comply. “What? My hands?” He held them up defensively and took a step backward.

Aldrik took hold of one of his wrists and guided the young man further out into the room. “I am going to take your soul signature away. It is a temporary spell, just like the one that is hiding my signature presently. This must be done if you are to leave the castle undetected.”

“Alright...”

Taking Blumiere’s other wrist, Aldrik turned them so his palms faced upwards. He placed a thumb on the insides of Blumiere’s wrists over his veins, searching for his pulse. The younger man’s deep blue eyes widened, darting around in uncertainty, and a sudden clap of thunder caused him to jump. Unfazed, Aldrik waited for their hearts to beat in sync, before finally shooting a stream of magic directly into his nephew’s bloodstream. 

Blumiere cried out and tore his hands away, stumbling back and falling on the floor. His wrists burned and his entire body tingled with an unfathomable ferocity; it felt as though steam were rising off of him.

“Ah… ow… W-what did you do to me?” Blumiere exclaimed angrily. “I-it’s… It’s burning me!”

“Quiet down, Blumiere,” Aldrik muttered, stealing a glance at the door, “I’ve merely transferred a bit of magic from my body to yours. The burning you feel will fade soon.”

“What kind of magic?”

Aldrik stepped forward to help his nephew to his feet. “As I told you before, it is a spell used to cloak your signature.”

Shakily, Blumiere stood, rubbing his wrists in an attempt to ease the pain. A shiver shot down his spine, causing his entire body to jerk. “Must it be administered in such a way?” 

For a moment, Aldrik’s expression darkened, and Blumiere thought for certain he spotted something sinister in his uncle’s dark blue eyes. But in an instant, it vanished, and the man turned away once more to gaze out the window.

“You’ll be alright. There are worse spells.” Blumiere didn’t get a chance to object to that, for Aldrik pressed on, “Now, quickly, you must depart. Teleport down to the gardens. I will meet you in the morning.”

Blumiere stepped up beside his uncle, trying to ignore the fading pain. Staring out the window at the drizzling sky and soggy earth, the prince sighed, not looking forward to going outside in such unfavorable conditions. “Very well. But I don’t expect to accomplish much in the dark and the rain.”

“Please try, Blumiere.” Lightning illuminated Aldrik’s face, and Blumiere’s heart pounded as once again his uncle’s expression darkened. “Find Sha’i, and let her know that her son is still alive.”

Why don’t you go yourself? Blumiere could’ve asked. Aldrik could cloak his signature, so why couldn’t he carry out this bizarre search on his own? But at this moment Blumiere wanted nothing more than to leave the man’s suffocating presence, even if it meant he would be perpetually confused. He picked a flat spot on the earth below. Maybe I will find this…  Sha’i… Though I don’t have a clue what she looks like. But first, Blumiere decided he'd look for Mimi and Ronan.

He focused on the earth below. It had been nearly five years since the last time he’d traveled through dimensions alone, but he remembered disliking it. Gathering his energy, he expelled it towards the place he’d chosen.

He spent nearly three seconds in the white-void; a blinding white dimension-in-between-dimensions. A terrible feeling came with teleportation, as though he were being separated from his body and floating through nothingness. At last, he flipped back into existence, immediately feeling drops of rain dampen his hair. He stood on the cliff that overlooked the small town beneath the castle. Glancing up at his bedroom window, he realized Aldrik had already left. He shivered, unnerved by the exchange between him and his uncle.

Bushes covered the grassy cliff beyond the garden, which lay behind him. The magically crafted cobblestone paths and trickling fountains created a serene feel to the garden, and the plentiful amounts of oleander trees colored the landscape with pinks, whites, and reds. The garden hugged the entire left side of the tall, obsidian castle. Tall spires and majestic balconies decorated the otherwise flat bricks, towering high into the sky.

He stepped closer to the edge, contemplating where he should teleport to next. Unless he could vividly imagine his destination beforehand, Blumiere needed to see the place before he could teleport to it.

Beneath Blumiere, the thick forest of deciduous trees surrounding the town reached toward the cliff. Not even the tallest oak tree could stretch its branches to touch the soil under his feet. In the darkness, he could not even see the bottom. It certainly was a long drop, he realized, and took a step backward.

As his foot put pressure on an unstable bit of earth loosened by the rain, the edge of the cliff gave way. He plummeted forward, falling, screaming, hysterically searching for something to hold onto to soften the blow. 

His hands brushed against the rough rocks of the cliff, scraping them painfully as he tried to grab onto something.  Suddenly his wrist struck a sharp rock, tearing out a large chunk of skin. It threw him off balance, causing him to spin around mid-air. Panic enveloped him, and he blacked out just before his body hit the muddy ground.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Remember

Episode Three: Points of View

Chapter Two

“It’s a shame it’s so foggy this morning,” Timpani sighed as she opened the front door of the cottage. “Although I suppose you won’t have to worry about being spotted…” She smiled politely, her voice saturated with reluctance. “You could go home now if you’d like, Blumiere. It’d be safer for you.” 

Blumiere stepped onto the prairie grass. The delicate blades glistened with dew and the previous night’s rain. “I’ve already convinced myself to stay,” he said with a nervous laugh. “I’d rather not second-guess my decision.”

Timpani’s smile brightened. “In that case, I won’t say another word. I’m so glad you’re staying, Blumiere.” She tiptoed through the saturated blades of grass, scowling as the water soaked through her shoes and lapped at the hem of her white sundress. 

“It must have rained a lot last night,” Blumiere observed. He stepped back into the doorway as moisture seeped into his socks. “We’re going to be drenched by the time we get done with our walk.”

Timpani glanced down at herself and then frowned up at Blumiere. “On second thought,” she sighed, “let’s wait until the sun has dried up the rain and cleared the fog away. Then we’ll take our walk.” 

Once back inside, Timpani sat down on a small tan couch and patted the seat next to her. Blumiere accepted the invitation, taking a moment to brush himself off before leaning back on the soft piece of furniture. 

“It shouldn’t take long for the sun to dry the grass,” Timpani said. “But until then, perhaps we should get to know each other. You’re a prince, right? What is that like?”

Blinking, Blumiere took a deep breath. He’d never thought about that before. What was it like? He was a prince… yes. But he didn’t feel like a prince at all. “It… it isn’t… Well, it’s not as fun as you’d think it might be.”

“Well, I never said I thought it would be fun . Then again, I really didn’t think much of it at all, before I met you. Your tribe doesn’t come to visit the town anymore, so anytime I thought of you it was only to wonder if you’d ever come back. And what might happen if you did.”

“Do you remember that?” Blumiere moved to the edge of his seat. “Have you ever met other members of my Tribe?”

Timpani shook her head. “Oh no, but I’ve heard stories of a time when your Tribe came to visit every once in a while. Everyone else claims they were only spies plotting to destroy the town, but I think they were just curious. Just like you, Blumiere.”

The runaway prince sighed softly. “So you wouldn’t have seen my mother, then…”

It took Timpani a moment to understand what he’d said. “...Your mother came to town? When?”

“About ten years ago, she left the castle for the first time... It was usually at night when she would pay her visits to your town, so I guess you wouldn’t have seen her. I...I always wanted to go with her, and she promised to take me with her one day... but three years later...she left, a-and she never came back…”

Timpani’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth as if to say something but then closed it again and chewed on her bottom lip. After a moment of suffocating silence, she whispered, “Why don’t you tell me more about your mother, Blumiere? Sometimes it helps to talk about people that you’ve lost.”

Blumiere’s hands twitched where he rested them on his knees. Slowly, they closed into fists, clenching and unclenching as he tried to keep them from trembling. Timpani’s almond-colored hand rested on top of the knuckles of his left hand. After a few heartbeats, Blumiere relaxed that hand enough for Timpani to wrap her fingers around to his palm. 

“Her name was Anastaise,” Blumiere began. “Like the rest of my Tribe, she had dark blue skin and black hair...very long, wavy hair. And her eyes would squint when she smiled, but they were so beautiful. She was a wonderful woman, very childlike, but perhaps that’s why I loved her so much.” Blumiere leaned back onto the couch. He turned his hand over so Timpani could hold it more comfortably. “Her curiosity surpassed even my own. Hah. Considering her curiosity is what got her killed, it seems I haven’t learned much from her.”

“You can’t help being curious, Blumiere. Things like that happen when you’re forced to see only one side of the world your entire life. Especially when you know there are two.”

Dry laughter broke from Blumiere’s lips. “Mother loved your side of the world. And so do I, now that I’ve seen it.”

“Well, I can’t wait to show you more of it,” Timpani said. “Would you like to help me make some tea? By the time we’ve had a cup, I’m sure the sun will have dried up the grass.”

Blumiere looked up to find Timpani’s sympathetic gaze on him. He tried to mirror the small smile on her lips. “Of course, Timpani. If we only have these few moments to share, let’s spend them doing something enjoyable.”

“Wait here, okay?” Ronan motioned for Mimi to stay on the steps outside of his small home in the woods. “I’ve got teh go talk to Nanna. I’ll be back soon, promise.”

Mimi, who no longer wore the face and clothes of the older boy, nodded slowly as Ronan disappeared behind the oak door. Once he was gone, she sighed and rested her chin on her hands.

Their search for a new ‘Melody’ had been unsuccessful, even though they’d stayed out most of the evening looking, but after dark, she’d been too afraid to stay any longer. Most of the people had gone back to their houses by that time anyway. So they’d returned to Ronan’s house and he’d managed to sneak her in past his Nanna (who was unobservant and deaf in one ear). 

Though Ronan had been nice enough to share his bed with her, Mimi barely slept. She couldn’t help but worry she’d never find another perfect human to turn into. She worried about what she’d do if Ronan’s Nanna caught her, or if the Nice Lady stopped helping her. Now she had no disguise, except for the ‘Ronan’ facade. And she didn’t think that would work for very long.

The front door creaked and Ronan tromped down the stairs. “Nanna says I can go inteh town for a while,” he announced. “She told me not teh be out long, though, so we should try an’ find yeh a new girl, quick.”

Mimi stood and nodded. “Okay. Where should we go first?”

“We’ll figure that out when we get there! C’mon! Race yeh teh the bridge!” Ronan took off towards the bridge that led over the river. 

Mimi jumped to her feet, giggling, “Hey! No fair!”

They sprinted across the grassy forest floor, weaving around trees and shrubs until they reached the wooden bridge. Ronan got there first, but Mimi wasn’t far behind.

“I woulda beat you if you hadn’t had a head start!” Mimi insisted, laughing in short, out-of-breath gasps.

Ronan doubled over, putting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “Yeh… Yeh’re probably right, Mimi,” he smiled, before straightening up again. “Oh, ‘ey—” he gestured at her clothing. “Yeh’re still green.”

“Oh, yeah! We’re twins now!” A puff of purple smoke later, Mimi transformed into ‘Mio,’ Ronan’s twin. With the disguise in place, the look-alikes departed for Tiede.

The town square bustled with people moving to and from the different stores and outdoor vendors. Several groups of children played in the warm summer sunlight, but most of them were either older than Mimi or much younger. 

Ronan inched closer to her. “I don’ see any good ones. An’... is it me or is there less people than usual?”

Mimi shrugged, but after looking around, she found that Ronan was right. Quite a few people were milling about, but usually, the town square was so packed with shoppers that you couldn’t see through to the other side. “Yeah, I think you’re right. But where is everybody?”

After a bit of wandering, they found their answer. On the other side of the square, near the treeline, a large group of people stood. They all wore black, which both Ronan and Mimi found a bit puzzling, and they stood in a circle. As the identical children approached the gathering, they recognized the object in the center of the circle.

A casket.

Inside of the black box lay a young girl with blonde hair, pale skin, and closed eyes. She wore a white, embroidered sundress that glowed in contrast to the dark clothes of those around her. Her petite hands folded across her stomach. A scarlet ribbon laced in between her fingers.

Ronan and Mimi exchanged a horrified glance. They both recognized the girl in the casket.

“Mimi… That's you. ”

 “Mother loved to garden. It was her favorite pastime. She would have loved all of these beautiful flowers… Actually, I wonder if she ever saw them during her visits.”

“I'm sure she did if she's as curious as you say,” Timpani laughed, gazing up into the bright morning sky. 

They sat back to back on top of a hill behind Timpani’s house, under the shade of a tall oak tree. It was the only tree this far out in the meadow, and Blumiere was thankful for the relief it provided from the sun, which had already grown hot, even this early in the morning. 

Flowers of every shape and color surrounded the tree, leaning to and fro in the gentle breeze. It was like a paradise, Blumiere thought, a paradise that his mother would have loved very much. 

“I'd like to believe she spent a lot of time up here,” he whispered, finding that the words filled him with a pleasant nostalgic feeling rather than melancholy.

“Maybe some of the flowers in her garden came from this hill,” Timpani suggested. “Think, you might have been seeing flowers from this place your whole life.” 

A light chuckle bubbled from Blumiere’s mouth. “I wouldn’t doubt it.” He drew a deep breath of the fragrant air and stretched his neck so he could look at the sky, letting his head touch Timpani’s for a moment. 

This is perfect, Blumiere realized. Oddly, I’ve found perfection here, with a human… With Timpani. Although… I suppose this is what I’ve been seeking all along.   

“It’s… It’s strange,” he continued to laugh, struggling to attach words to his thoughts. “I never imagined… Well, never mind. Timpani, I have a question to ask you.”

“Yes?”

“Why is it that… Well, you see, when I first visited the town, everyone there despised me. They were terrified of me, and they threw insults and rocks at me. And yet here we are, a human and a tribesman, sitting beneath a tree in the middle of a meadow, thoroughly enjoying ourselves. Why are you so different? You know what I am, so why are you not afraid?”

“You ask why I am not afraid of you? Blumiere, you’ve done nothing to hurt me. You’ve been incredibly kind to me. I have no reason to fear you.” 

“I did nothing to harm them , either,” he sighed. “I just wanted to see your side of the world.”

“Yes, but Blumiere, you crossed the boundary into the heart of the town and expected people to accept you with open arms… I’m not saying you did anything wrong, but frankly, if you had approached me in a similar manner, I would have been a bit frightened myself.” Timpani stood up and stepped closer to the trunk of the tall oak tree. She put her pale hand on the bark and waited for a moment as if lost in thought.

“Blumiere, when I found you last night, I admit I hesitated for a moment before taking you out here. For all I knew, you could have killed me as soon as you woke up. But… I couldn’t just leave you there. I realized that if it were a human lying there, I would have taken them in without a second thought. Tell me, would you have done the same?”

Blumiere imagined finding Timpani on top of the cliff, injured. He knew the first thing he’d do would be to make sure his father didn’t see her… 

“Yes. You’re right, I would have done the same thing.”

“I think,” Timpani continued, brushing a strand of caramel hair behind her ear, “that every person has the ability to think like you and me. They only need to look at the situation from a different point of view.” She turned around and knelt in front of Blumiere. “What most people don’t realize is, though we may be different in appearance,” she placed her index finger on the black silk that covered his collarbone, “we’re all the same on the inside. It’s the character of the heart, not the character of the body, that truly matters.”

“But we’re not the same on the inside,” Blumiere said slowly. “I have very dangerous magic inside my very blood. I could use it to hurt someone.”

“Would you?”

He shook his head. “No, Timpani, I would never hurt a human.”

“And that’s what matters.” Timpani’s eyes sparkled with intensity. “I happen to have the very dangerous ability to stab you while you’re sleeping. But it’s whether or not I take that opportunity that determines my trustworthiness, not my ability to do so.”

Blumiere peered up into Timpani’s crystal blue eyes and smiled. Then he pushed himself to his feet and offered a hand to Timpani to help her up. “It’s not so strange after all,” he grinned. “I just needed to see things from a different point of view, as you put it. You’re the first person I’ve met who sees things like that. Well, except for…”

Ronan and Mimi.

“Blast!” Blumiere cried out. “How could I have forgotten the reason I came out here in the first place?”

Timpani touched his arm. “What? What is it, Blumiere?” 

Brushing a hand through his hair, Blumiere turned worried eyes on her. “Timpani, I never mentioned this before, but I did actually meet someone on my first visit to the town.”

“Oh?” Timpani quirked an eyebrow.

“Yes, but he wasn’t… Well, he was a young boy by the name of Ronan, and he and I had quite an adventure together…” He broke through his story with a chuckle. “Anyway—and I didn’t mention this before either—I visited a second time and met his young friend, a girl named Melody, o-or Mimi, depending on—” 

“You met Mimi ?” Timpani cut in, “You mean the little girl with green skin?”

“You know of her?”

“I found her in the North Forest one evening, all alone. I’d never seen anything like her before, but she wanted to follow me so I let her. I led her to the meadow house and gave her some food. Sometimes I stay there overnight with her when she has nowhere else to sleep… I feel bad for her, the poor girl… I haven’t a clue if she has any home of her own, but she certainly has no memory of it if she does.”

Blumiere blinked a few times, slowly beginning to piece things together. “Of course! I must not have recognized your house because of the fog this morning. You’re the Nice Lady!” He held back laughter, realizing how ridiculous that sounded.

Timpani remained somber. “Yes, that’s what Mimi calls me… I haven’t seen her in about a week, did something happen to her?”

“She’s lost the ability to change into a human, so she can’t go into town. The last time I saw her she was still with Ronan, so perhaps we should check at his house?” He offered.

Timpani was already descending the hill. “Yes, good idea. We must make sure Mimi is in a safe place.” Her brow was creased with worry, and as Blumiere caught up to her, he sensed that she knew something more about the situation than he did.

“Timpani…?”

He didn’t have to say anything more. “A friend of mine lost her only child two days ago to a terrible sickness. They don’t know what caused it, but… I do know that the little girl who died looked exactly like Mimi’s human form. She would never tell me anything about it when I asked, but I always assumed that she, in a way, copied the girl’s exact appearance to use for her own. And now that Mimi can’t do that anymore… at the same time as the young girl’s death… Well, I can’t help but assume they’re related somehow.”

By now they’d neared the back of the meadow house. “So, Mimi cannot use her ability on the deceased,” Blumiere concluded, rounding the corner of the house.

Nodding, Timpani replied, “That’s what I’m led to believe. Oh, I’m so worried for her, Blumiere.” She opened the front door and stopped in the doorway, saying, “I need to grab some things. I’ll only be a moment.” Without another word she vanished, leaving Blumiere outside alone. 

He glanced down at himself, realizing how ragged and dirty he looked. Patting down the front of his shirt, he spotted a tear in the fabric.

“...blast, Father’s going to see that…”

Perhaps Timpani could teach me how to sew it up, he mused. As he turned to look inside the cottage, a presence suddenly filled his mind. A strong soul signature had arrived nearby, one that was very familiar. Aldrik! He froze, scanning the distant treeline and, sure enough, a dark figure moved through the brush, causing branches and leaves to sway to and fro. 

His heart skipped a beat as the man emerged. Their eyes met, and Blumiere knew there was no point in trying to hide from him now. Spinning on his heel, he entered the cottage and nearly ran into Timpani.

“Oh! Timpani, I must go, I’m terribly sorry.”

“What? Why? Has something happened?” Timpani tightened a gray, embroidered cloak around her shoulders and stared at him intently.

“My uncle is here, and I’m sure he wants to bring me... home…” he stuttered, overcome by nervousness. Father knows… He knows, surely… 

“But what of the children?”

“You’ll have to look alone. I’m so sorry, Timpani.”

Timpani took his hand and squeezed it gently. “I understand, Blumiere. But, please, you must come back. I must see you again soon.”

“I will. I will be back… Tonight. Before the sun sets. We’ll meet beneath the tree, and you can tell me what you’ve found.”

She met his cerulean gaze and hesitated for a moment before placing a hand on his shoulder and a kiss on his cheek. “Promise?”

Blumiere’s heart beat faster, and for a few seconds, he could do nothing more than stare into Timpani’s pleading eyes. 

“I promise,” he whispered. Then he turned towards the trees and broke into a run, not wanting to keep Aldrik waiting any longer. 

His uncle stood in the shadow of a tree, stern-faced. “It is almost noon. What has taken you so long?”

Blumiere’s mouth went dry. “Uh, well, I...”

Luckily, he didn’t have to come up with an excuse, for Aldrik pressed on, “Actually, tell me about that later. We need to hurry home now, Blumiere. Your father is waiting for you.”

Chapter Text

Remember

Episode Three: Points of View

Chapter Three

“I can't believe it,” Mimi exclaimed as she sat on the steps of Ronan’s house with a huff. “She's dead! Melody is dead!”

Ronan cleared his throat and scratched at his neck, wishing he could do something. But in this situation, what could he do? He could be as positive or supportive as possible, but Mimi’s situation required more than that. He couldn't bring a girl back from the grave. 

“It's okay, Mimi,” was his automatic reply, though they both recognized the statement as false. Things were not okay, as far as they were concerned. 

Sighing, Mimi half-closed her eyes and rested her head on her folded knees. Her bottom lip stuck out in a pout as she stared off into the trees. 

Movement in the distance caused her to sit up straight once again, and as she recognized the shape as a human, she tugged on her friend's sleeve, saying, “O’Chunks, look. ” 

Following her gaze, the older boy grinned.

“Mimi, Ronan!” Lady Timpani called as she approached the children, out of breath from the hastiness of her journey. “Thank goodness! You're both here.”

Mimi leaped from the stairs and bounded across the clearing, launching herself into Timpani’s arms. “You’re here! You’re finally here!”

Timpani smiled and hugged the girl to her chest. “Yes, Mimi, I’m here. I’m so glad you’re safe. And you, too, Ronan,” she added with a nod to the orange-haired boy.

“Miss Lady,” Ronan started, stepping away from the wooden stairs. “‘Ave yeh come teh ‘elp us?”

Like Blumiere, Timpani had become accustomed to the nicknames the children had come up with for her. From Ronan, it was ‘Miss Lady,’ and from Mimi, ‘Nice Lady.’ Either one called her just ‘Lady’ from time to time, and although at first Timpani had insisted they call her by her name, she’d grown used to it.

“I’m afraid I only know half of the story,” Timpani released Mimi and knelt down so she was at eye level with both children. “Perhaps you can enlighten me?”

Ronan and Mimi began to tell the story simultaneously.

“I couldn’t change anymore…”

“And Mimi n’ Blue came to me ‘ouse and I saw her…”

“We couldn’t find any other pretty girls...”

“A-an’ then we went back into town…”

“...people in black…”

“...a funeral, I think…”

“She’s dead, now!”

Mimi had gotten so worked up telling the story she looked close to tears. Timpani held back a sigh. She clasped Mimi’s shoulder and said, “It’s alright. We’ll figure something out.” Taking what she already knew as well as the few snippets she’d gained from Mimi and Ronan, Timpani pieced together what had happened. “Mimi,” she met the girl’s eyes, “from what I understand, the reason you can’t turn into a human is that this young girl who passed away, Melody, was the…” she struggled to find the right word. “... model ...for your human form. So this ability to turn into anyone you can see only extends to those who are alive. Is that correct?”

Mimi nodded, her frown wobbling.

“Were you aware of this?”

She shook her head. 

Timpani stood. “Alright. So there are certain things you don’t know about this ability you possess. I would suggest we learn as much about it as possible so this kind of thing doesn’t happen again, but first, we need to deal with the situation at hand.”

Both children gazed up at Timpani with wide eyes. They fully trusted the woman to have the answer to their problems, but in truth, Timpani hadn’t completely formulated a plan yet. She needed some time to think.

“What ‘re we goin’ teh do?” Ronan spoke up, rocking anxiously on his heels. “Yeh’ve got a plan, right?”

Timpani ran a hand through her hair and then smiled as an idea struck her. “Yes, actually. But it’ll have to wait until tonight.”

“The Summer Festival is tonight!” Ronan piped up. “We can find Mimi a girl then!”

“Exactly.” Timpani clasped her hands together. And someone else is coming tonight. You two know Blumiere, right?”

Ronan and Mimi exchanged an excited glance and exclaimed simultaneously, “Blue!”

Timpani couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Yes, he’s coming back tonight. Why don’t we wait until he gets here, and then we’ll work out how to solve this.”

“He’s okay?” Mimi piped up, her eyes filled with worry.” Last time we saw him he was stole away by another blue-face!”

“He what?” Timpani’s brow furrowed. 

“I think it was ‘is dad,” Ronan added. “‘Is dad came and took ‘im ‘ome. ‘E looked real mad, too.”

A dreadful feeling made Timpani’s stomach churn. Blumiere hadn’t mentioned much about his father, but given this information, she guessed Blumiere hadn’t ended up at the bottom of the cliff because he’d been taking a walk.

Did he run away…? She couldn’t help but wonder, and she began to worry that he might not make it tonight. Or perhaps he’ll get back sooner than he intended…? 

“I’d better go back and wait for him,” she said.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Mimi asked, kicking at the grass with her bare feet.

“He’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Timpani assured, although the assurance was just as much for herself as it was for Mimi. “Will you two be alright with staying here until he gets back?” 

Mimi furrowed her brow. “But why? We wanna go see him, too!”

“You’ll get to see him. The two of us will find you once he gets here.”

Mimi was about to protest again, but Ronan, cut in and said, “Yeh, sure, Mimi an’ I can stay ‘ere. Let’s play a game, Mimi!” 

Easily swayed, Mimi gave up her arguing, and soon the two had begun a game of tag.

“I’ll see you soon,” Timpani waved, heading back the way she came. Blumiere was on her mind the entire walk to the top of the hill on the meadow, and as she sat to wait for the man’s return, she started plotting ways to save both the children and Blumiere.

Before his first visit to the humans’ town, Blumiere rarely fought with his father. He preferred not to fight with anyone, and would much rather solve his problems peacefully. On the other hand, his father was quick to give in to his temper and wouldn't hesitate to verbally berate or abuse another family member. Blumiere recalled many times when his older brothers had challenged his father’s opinions or disobeyed him. His brothers didn't hold their tongues either. During those fights, Blumiere would seek refuge with his mother. And, later on, at her grave. 

But this time, his father was neither forceful nor peaceful, but silent. The tension in the air was palpable, and as Blumiere stared at his feet dangling over the edge of his bed, he struggled to keep his breathing regular and his worry at bay. 

King Basile was sitting across from his son in a wooden desk chair, observing him with probing eyes. He hadn't said a word since Blumiere had arrived home, and he had been sitting there for nearly half an hour already. 

The noise of his pounding heart was the only sound Blumiere could hear. Why isn't he saying anything? He wondered for what seemed like the hundredth time. Is he waiting for me to speak first? But what should I say? He stole a glance at his father and, upon meeting his gaze, redirected it to the floor, feeling his stomach contract in fear.

“I want you to tell me everything that happened.” 

When at last his father spoke, Blumiere couldn’t restrain himself from flinching. It took him a moment to process what his father had asked. “Everything…?” he dared to look at him again. “Starting from where?”

“From the moment you ran away last night.” 

Blumiere winced. ‘Ran away’ suggested he'd done something criminal; intending to escape and never come back. Maybe he had. 

And starting from this point meant he'd have to explain how he escaped. He didn't want to rat out his uncle, but he also knew he couldn't lie to his father. And besides, Blumiere had a feeling his father knew Aldrik had helped him. He's likely testing me to see if I'll tell the truth right away. 

He was trapped. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he prepared to tell the truth, but only what was absolutely necessary. “I...left of my own accord, but with the help of Aldrik.”

King Basile appeared unfazed, which confirmed Blumiere's earlier speculations. “How did he help you?”

“He cloaked my soul signature so I could teleport undetected.”

“And why did he help you?”

Blumiere squashed down the urge to fidget. He couldn’t tell his father about Aldrik’s human partner. Especially not if Aldrik provided the only means for him to return to Timpani. At last, he said, “He wanted me to look for someone.”

“ Who? ”

“I-I, uh, a friend of Mother’s,” Blumiere's heart pounded. For all he knew, Sha'i might have known his mother. 

Basile didn't like that answer, apparently, for he leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at his son. “Do you actually believe your mother had friends? ”

His harsh words surprised Blumiere. Of course his mother had had friends! She'd told him so many stories of the wonderful things she'd seen, and the intriguing traditions of the humans… But now that Blumiere thought about it… Had she ever mentioned any friends? “I-I guessed I assumed…”

“Aldrik must have lied to you. This person he's sending you after would not have known Anastaise.” Basile took on the somber, flat tone with which he spoke every time he mentioned Queen Anastaise. 

“But…” Blumiere hesitated, knowing it was not his place to ask questions at this moment. But he had to know. “Mother spent so much time with the humans. There's no way she couldn't have considered any of them friends .” He thought of the humans he'd met so far. All of the ones who didn't throw rocks at him had become the first friends he'd ever had. 

Basile didn't seem pleased that his interrogation was veering off track, but he answered Blumiere's question with vigor. “Your naivety has made you a fool, my son.” 

Blumiere gripped the fabric covering his knees and gritted his teeth. 

“Do you actually think your mother interacted with any of the humans she saw?” When Blumiere didn't answer, he continued, “Anastaise hid in the shadows. Why do you think she only went at night? She stayed hidden and watched the humans from a distance, and the day they found her, they killed her! ” By now King Basile’s voice had raised several decibels. 

Blumiere's stomach churned. He clutched the sheets of his bed beneath his hands, trying to pretend he didn't notice the tortured breaking of his father’s voice. He should have known not to bring up his mother. 

But that wasn't the only reason he was feeling nauseous. If what his father said was true… That would explain why his mother never told him full stories of her visits to town...why she only promised to take him with her when he was older… “You...You're sure?” Blumiere was still in disbelief. 

King Basile stood up, towering over Blumiere and glowering at him. “Your mother lays cold in her grave outside. What more evidence do you need?!” With that, Basile headed for the door. “You have told me all I need to know, Blumiere. I will see you again in the morning. And if you show up missing, there will be severe consequences.” The door slammed behind him. 

Stunned and alone, Blumiere sat frozen in time. His father’s words repeated relentlessly in his mind. 

The humans had murdered Queen Anastaise as soon as they’d seen her. Seven years later, they could have killed her son, too. Blumiere was lucky to be alive. The truth of what his father had been saying all along hit him at last.

But as much as this truth scared him, he knew he couldn’t stay away. At least, not from Ronan, Mimi, and Timpani. He had to go back, and he’d promised Timpani it would be tonight .

But how in the worlds was he going to leave this time? There was no way his father was going to let Aldrik back in here, and his signature was no longer cloaked, or else his uncle wouldn't have found him this morning. 

And if he managed to escape and wasn't back in the morning? His father had threatened something terrible if that happened. 

Open-ended threats were the worst kind, Blumiere mused.

Blumiere stood before his window, longing in his gaze as he stared in the direction of Timpani’s home. From here he could not see the plains or the lone tree that sat upon the hill, but he could picture the vivid colors of the flowers so clearly, that he was sure he'd be able to teleport directly there. 

But of course, that was impossible now. Unless he could learn to cloak his own signature, there was no way he'd be able to make it undetected. 

He imagined Timpani waiting for him. She’d be worried about him.

“Aha ha ha ha!”

Blumiere jumped, spinning around and crying out in horror and confusion. 

...or, he would have, were it not for the sudden pressure over his mouth, as if someone were clamping their hand there to keep him quiet. But there was no such person, or anything, as far as Blumiere could see. 

“You weren't planning on jumping, were you? Aha. What a terrible way to go.”

He tried to speak but could not, so he shook his head, eyebrows arched in fright. 

As his mouth was freed, a figure materialized before Blumiere’s eyes. A young boy appeared. Apparel swathed him from head to toe. A purple and beige poncho draped over his slim torso, black pants, gloves, and pointed shoes covered the rest of his body. A half-black, half-white mask covered his face. The eyes and mouth were upturned, gluing a perpetually joyful expression onto the space where the boy’s face should have been. A jester’s hat with the same color scheme as his poncho sat upon his head so that no part of his hair could be seen. But what caught Blumiere’s eye, more so than the bizarre outfit the child wore, was that he hovered about two feet off the ground.

“Good, good!” the boy chirped, his voice muffled by the mask. He moved his right hand, touching first his mouth and then the open palm of his left hand. “It would be a shame if you died before I had the chance to introduce myself.”

Blumiere blinked, slightly disgusted. He waited for the alluded ‘introduction.’

“I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out by now, cousin. ”

Silence overcame the room as Blumiere processed what the boy had said. “You’re Aldrik’s son,” he uttered. That would explain the levitation. He must have inherited Aldrik’s magical abilities. But then, he’d never seen Aldrik levitate… 

“That I am,” the boy said, tearing Blumiere from his thoughts, “I am the son of a mage of darkness and a human, local oddity and utter abomination.” He spun mid-air and bowed. “I am… Dimentio!”

He certainly didn’t inherit Aldrik’s dry personality, Blumiere thought. “Dimentio.” The name felt odd on his tongue. “I’m Blumiere, unless… Unless you already knew that.” He furrowed his brow, still struggling to comprehend the situation.

“I did know that! I know about everyone in the castle, in fact. Anyway, dear cousin,” Dimentio pressed on, “I have been sent here by my father to aid you in your escape. You see, Father desperately wants to find my mother, or, at least, receive confirmation of death. She disappeared about a year after my birth and was never seen again, aha ha.” He paused to change his position, so now he was ‘laying’ on his stomach, supported by nothing but air. “Father can’t leave the castle, and I don’t exist, aha. So that leaves you. ” Dimentio jabbed a finger toward Blumiere.

Blumiere only stared, growing more uneasy by the moment. There was something not right about the boy; he seemed to be around seven or eight years old, and yet he spoke with the fluidity and intelligence of someone Blumiere’s age, or older. That, combined with the static smile on the mask he wore and the fact that he resembled a living jester’s costume rather than a boy, gave him an eerie aura that disturbed Blumiere.

“Father already aided you in escaping once,” Dimentio continued, hovering a bit closer to Blumiere. “He took your signature, correct?”

“Yes,” Blumiere’s voice wavered. 

“Aha ha ha. Then I’m sure you know what to do.”

Blumiere did know, and he was not thrilled by the idea of doing it again. “You wouldn’t happen to know a different method, would you?”

Dimentio was silent for a moment, then burst into semi-manic laughter. “Aha ha ha ha! A different method? Believe me, dear cousin, if there was another way, I would have found out by now.”

Taking a few steps backward, Blumiere swallowed, his eyes growing wide. 

“I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that I have no soul signature of my own.”

Blumiere hadn’t thought to check, but now that he’d mentioned it, he realized the boy was telling the truth. I never felt him teleport into the room, either. He gave a quick nod.

“Of course I don’t. Because I don’t exist, remember? Aha ha. So think about this: every morning, at exactly seven o’clock, Father cloaks my signature. It must be done at exactly the right moment, for if you cloak a signature that is already cloaked…” he trailed off and snickered, before getting back on track. “Then, every evening, at exactly seven o’clock, my signature is cloaked again. Twice a day, it must be cloaked, for I must not be known to exist. Every day since I was born I’ve endured this pain. The burning sensation, like thousands of fire ants crawling across my skin. The cold, paralyzing ice that crawls through my blood. Aha ha ha ha ha. Such a thing should kill a child. But here I am. Lucky me. Aha.”

Blumiere could feel the sweat trickling down his forehead. “So that… That would make sense, yes…” He didn’t know what else to say. At this point, he just wanted to leave and find Timpani.

“Don’t worry, it won’t be so bad. I promise. You'll get used to it.” Blumiere swore he heard mocking in his tone, and for that reason, he still did not give up his hands.

The motley-clad boy inched closer. “Come now, cousin. This is the only way. You want to go back, don't you? And see that woman again…”

“Wha-?!” Blumiere bit back an exclamation, wary of the possibility that someone outside might hear him. “How did you…?”

“Father might have mentioned a woman he saw you talking to,” Dimentio commented offhandedly. “I'm sure you want to see her again.”

Blumiere nodded, unsure of how to reply to that.

Dimentio laughed. “Be careful, Blumiere,” he said, grabbing for his hands. Blumiere didn’t resist, instead taking a deep breath in an attempt to prepare for the pain he knew was coming. 

Somehow, he managed to hold back his cries of agony as the magic entered his bloodstream. Dimentio did not say a word; he watched as Blumiere clenched his teeth and took in labored breaths through his nose. 

“Good to go!” The masked boy chirped, twirling midair. 

Blumiere closed his eyes, trying to focus on the meadow with the tree and the flowers, and Timpani’s smiling face… 

“Oh, and one more thing.”

“... What? ”

“Don’t forget to look for my mother. I’ll give you a hint. She’s a human. Aha.”

Dimentio’s laughter faded away as Blumiere entered void-space.

Chapter Text

Remember

Episode Three: Points of View

Chapter Four

“...You’re late. Did something happen?”

“Yes, my father caught me. Sneaking out of the castle wasn’t easy after that.”

“I was worried you wouldn’t come…” 

Timpani stood in front of Blumiere on top of the meadow hill. The sun had already ducked below the horizon, but dim light still highlighted Timpani’s figure. Her blue eyes sparkled with a nervous sort of curiosity. 

“Don’t worry about me, Timpani,” Blumiere urged.

“But I do,” she sighed, wringing her hands together. “You haven’t told me much about your father, Blumiere, but… it seems you fear him. And tonight- he caught you? What does that mean? That you were running away? That you have to escape without him knowing?”

Blumiere jolted at the intensity in her tone. “Well, it’s..”

“I’m glad you came back, Blumiere. I’m just worried, is all.”

“I’m sorry.” 

Timpani offered him a melancholic smile. “I’m sorry you have to put so much at risk by meeting me.”

Blumiere sat on the chilled grass and beckoned for Timpani to sit beside him. “My father is a strict man,” he began, “but I know it’s fear that fuels his actions. When I lost my mother, he changed. No longer were you humans, but monsters, monsters that could attack and take away his family at any moment. He became afraid of you, and he still is. I don’t want him to worry about me, which is why I must leave without his permission.” 

Timpani leaned in closer until she was resting her head on his shoulder. “Does he know you’ve gone out before?”

He swallowed and nodded. 

“Was he upset when he found out?”

“That doesn’t matter now, Timpani. I’m here, and that’s all that I care about.”

“I’m glad of that. Just—”

“I’ll be careful, I promise.”

Timpani giggled and turned her head to look at Blumiere. “Good. But if it gets too dangerous for you to come back… well, wait until it’s not dangerous. We must keep meeting!” Her silly grin elicited a laugh out of Blumiere. 

“Nothing could stop me from seeing you…” He tilted his head until it rested on top of hers. They sat in blissful silence for a few moments. 

I truly enjoy her company, Blumiere thought. I’ve never been happier.

“Look at the sunset, Blumiere,” Timpani whispered in awe. In the wake of the dying sunbeams, a rainbow melted across the horizon.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. 

“And look at how they blend together over there,” Timpani pointed to a spot along the skyline, almost opposite the sun. “That pattern is even prettier. I don't think I've ever noticed that before.”

In the direction Timpani indicated, a deep navy blue colored the horizon, followed by a thin line of magenta and then a subdued peach. It gradually grew lighter, fading into white. Another layer of blue stretched to the top of the sky. 

“I've never taken notice of the colors in the sky before,” Blumiere mused. “When the sun sets, they're always changing. Look, that pattern looks a little different now. There’s more of the blue and less of the pink. It only has that exact color scheme for such a small moment in time.”

“Blink and you'd miss it,” Timpani agreed. 

“Let's look for it every night. Maybe we can use those colors to choose when to meet instead of the sunset.”

“Clever,” Timpani nodded. “If your father begins to think that you're leaving routinely, he'd never suspect it would be at a time like that.”

“My father shouldn’t know I’m leaving,” Blumiere muttered, a lilt of worry nestled in his tone.

Timpani threaded her fingers through the grass in front of her and hummed thoughtfully. “We’ll make sure he doesn’t find out.”

“So it's settled then?” Blumiere said, pushing away the discouraging thoughts about his father. “Every night, when the sunset creates that pattern across the meadow, we’ll meet.”

“ Every night?”

Blumiere hesitated. What if he couldn't get out? It wasn’t exactly up to him whether or not his signature could be cloaked. “Well, it's just like you said: blink and you'd miss it. If the colors pass and I've not appeared yet, assume I won't be coming at all. I won't come before or after.”

Timpani looked up at him with wide eyes and a half-smile. 

“...I'll try and get out as often as possible,” Blumiere conceded.

“Good.”

They shared a laugh and fell silent again. Blumiere closed his eyes, enjoying Timpani’s peaceful company. Timpani, on the other hand, continued to watch Blumiere, unable to contain a smile. Their hands were centimeters apart, and, giving in to an inexplicable urge, Timpani moved hers over and placed it on top of Blumiere’s. 

“Mm?” The Tribesman opened his eyes and blinked at her. “Yes?”

“Oh. Nothing.” Timpani did not move her hand. 

Heart fluttering, Blumiere cleared his throat and closed his eyes again. The touch of Timpani's hand made him uncomfortable in the most alluring way. He felt the urge to squirm away, yet somehow he knew he could sit with her like this for an eternity.

From behind a cloak of invisibility, Dimentio watched the unusual couple. They leaned closely together, hands intertwined, a match made by the stars themselves. Like my own parents, perhaps, he mused, before they were plagued with a child. 

Hovering closer, he felt the urge to shove them, scream, or do something to disturb their peace. But he had a job to do, and that job required him to remain unseen. 

He hasn’t said a word about Mother yet. He hasn’t said much of anything at all. Dimentio doubted his cousin would ever touch on the matter. Backing away to a safe distance, Dimentio scowled. He couldn’t stand to watch them any longer, so he teleported away, leaving behind a faint wave of distortion. 

Aldrik was waiting for him in the large room they shared. Or rather, the room that belonged to Aldrik and that Dimentio occasionally occupied. Octagonal in shape, the bedroom held a king-sized bed, a grand chest of drawers, and a wardrobe, all made of dark-stained wood. A bookshelf and a desk sat snugly against one of the eight sides. All of this was plenty for them to share, but Dimentio was not allowed in it very often, for fear of being discovered. He ate his meals in the darkness of the wardrobe and slept on the castle’s roof. His invisibility was helpful at all other times, but he could only make small objects invisible, and though his body was transparent, it was still tangible. 

It was late now, and unlikely that anyone would be entering the room unprovoked, so Dimentio made himself known by retracting his invisibility and whispering, “Father, I—”

Aldrik shook his head and held a finger to his lips. Then, with both palms facing downward, he moved his hands to his sides in a sweeping movement.

“Silence.”

Dimentio made several signs of his own. “It’s late. What’s wrong?”

“The King could be listening.”

The motley-clad boy reached out for his uncle’s signature. “He’s not here now.”

“We can’t risk it. Where is he?” 

“With the girl.”

Aldrik’s face pinched in annoyance. “He’s not going to look for your mother.”

Dimentio shook his head. “He’s just like you.”

The magician narrowed his eyes at his son and raised a hand to the side of his head. “ Leave me.”

Dimentio teleported away. He wouldn’t see his father until seven o’clock the next morning when his existence would be cloaked again.

“We should find Ronan and Mimi before dark.”

“Oh!” Blumiere pulled away from Timpani and stood up. “Of course! I meant to ask, what did you find out about Mimi?”

“It’s as I suspected,” Timpani took Blumiere’s hand and let him help her to her feet. “Mimi cannot shapeshift into someone who is dead.”

“And the girl she was using as her disguise died recently, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Do you recall how she died?”

Timpani started in the direction of Ronan’s house. “It was a sickness. It started small and got worse and worse over time. No one could find a cure.”

“Did anyone else contract the sickness?”

“Not that I know of.”

Blumiere put a hand to his chin. “And Mimi wasn’t affected by the sickness.”

“There are many things about her ability that she does not understand. I wish there was a way we could perform some tests, but I don’t have much time. I work during the day and at night…well, I hope to be seeing you.” She grinned at Blumiere.

“Perhaps once we’ve found her a new disguise we can take some time to learn the extent of her ability.” He returned the smile with one of his own.

Timpani giggled and reached for his hand, intertwining her fingers with Blumiere’s. “C’mon!” she said, picking up the pace. “If we don’t hurry, we won’t make it before dark!”

“Woah!” Blumiere nearly stumbled as he tried to keep up with her, then righted himself and burst into laughter, following her lead across the grassy field. 

By the time they reached the small home in the woods, stars had begun to dot the sky. Only Mimi waited for them outside.

“Blue!” The green-skinned girl exclaimed, rushing forward to hug him. “You’re okay!”

“And so are you,” Blumiere said. “I’m glad to see you again. Er, where’s Ronan?”

“He and his nanna are at the festival already!”

Blumiere released Mimi from the hug and stood up straight. “The… festival…?” he murmured. 

“The Summer Festival is tonight!” Timpani’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, it will be wonderful, Blumiere! I’m sure you’ll love it!”

“And there will be plenty of people, so I’m sure we’ll find a new girl for me to turn into!”

Blumiere barely processed Timpani and Mimi’s comments. He fixed his gaze on a tree in the distance and fought back a frown. A festival… Just like… the ones mother used to go to…

“Do you actually think your mother interacted with any of the humans she saw?” He winced as he recalled his father’s words. “She stayed hidden and watched the humans from a distance, and the day they found her, they killed her! ”

“You didn’t tell me we were going to a festival,” Blumiere said. His words came out harsher than he meant them to.

Timpani wrapped Blumiere’s hand in both of hers and looked up at him with a shrug. “It’s dark enough, Blumiere. They won’t notice your skin color. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Blumiere, but I thought you might decide not to come before you had the chance to see it.”

“I don’t need to see it to know I will be in danger there.” Blumiere made an effort to soften his tone, though his brows knit together with concern.

“I won’t make you come with. I can understand why you’re afraid.” She met his uncertain gaze and offered a smile. 

Tilting his head toward the sky, Blumiere studied the darkening color. He couldn’t see any stars just yet, but he knew they’d be appearing soon.

“I would...have to stay in the trees. I could watch.” His heart ached as his father’s words returned to him. Mother watched from the shadows… But, perhaps, unlike Mother— a thickness in his throat nearly halted his next thought— I have human friends who can protect me.  

Timpani squeezed his hand. “Only if you’re sure.” The words came out slowly as if she were reluctant to continue offering him alternatives.

“I am. Mimi will need the extra help, anyway. I’ll do what I can, watching from the trees.” He smiled at the girl and she clapped her hands.

“Yay! Blue’s coming to the festival!” She took off in the direction of the town, giggling.

“You’re shaking,” Timpani squeezed Blumiere’s hand again. “If you ever feel like you should leave, feel free.”

Blumiere nodded. “Yes, I’ll... I’ll keep that in mind.” Already his steps longed to veer off the trodden pathway and into the trees. “But I’d really like to see the festival in person.”

Timpani smirked at him. “I’m glad. I think you’ll enjoy it, especially compared to the mundaneness of your castle.”

“It’s not so mundane!” Blumiere said. Then, a laugh burst from him. “Though I’m not sure why I’m defending it. I did decide to come to Tiede one day simply because I was bored.”

“Best mistake you’ve ever made,” Timpani snickered, pulling Blumiere down the pathway with a skip in her step. 

By the time they reached Tiede’s Town Square, the festival was well underway. Brilliant lights of red and gold hung in between buildings and bordered stalls, lighting up the now-black sky. Flutes, drums, and fiddles played together in an upbeat tune. A large group of humans danced to the music, and some even sang along. The scent of baked goods filled the air, along with something that smelled like warm apples. He noticed a few people drinking large cups full of what he assumed was the apple drink.

“Right here should be a good enough place.” Timpani guided Blumiere into the trees along the edge of the Square. He winced as he brushed past leaves and crunched through twigs, but he hoped the noise of the festival would cover up the commotion. Coming to a stop beside a smooth-barked tree, Blumiere peeked through the leaves in front of him. If he tilted his head just right, he could see through perfectly. When he leaned back, the foliage obscured his face from view. 

“This should work,” he whispered, settling against the trunk of the tree.

“No one will be looking for you,” Timpani said. “No one would have any reason to search through the trees. You’ll be safe. And I’ll stay with you, so if anyone does decide to come into the forest, I’ll lead them away.”

“But you’ll miss out on the festival,” Blumiere murmured.

“No, I won’t. I’ll get to spend it with you.”

Blumiere ducked his head, warmed by Timpani’s kindness. He also couldn’t help a bout of shame from washing over him, followed by the inexplicable feeling that he could have done something to prevent this. 

He lifted his head slowly, searching for something to distract his mind. “Is that alcohol?” he asked, gesturing to the group of humans with the cups. He’d heard the humans drank such a thing, but he’d never tasted it himself.

“No!” Timpani giggled and elbowed him playfully. “It’s cider! You’ve never had apple cider before?”

He shook his head. 

“Well, you ought to! Here, I’ll go get a few cups for us. I won’t be long.” Timpani slowly unwound her fingers from his. “I’ll be right over there.” She pointed to a nearby stall that had been painted dark green.

“I’ll be okay,” Blumiere reassured her.

Timpani exhaled slowly, barely taking her eyes off of him as she backed out of the trees. 

A few moments later, he watched her step past his hiding spot and head for the cider stall. On the way, Ronan and Mimi crossed paths with her. Timpani whispered something to Ronan, and soon enough, the children began to make their way toward him, looking suspiciously like they were trying not to be suspicious. 

“Blue?” Mimi whispered into the trees.

“In here.” 

Mimi and Ronan crawled through the bushes and leaves toward him. Mimi yelped as her foot caught on a root, and Ronan shushed her.

“Look, Blue!” Mimi held her arms up toward him. Thick, brown sleeves covered even her hands. “O’Chunks gave me a sweater, and look!” She reached behind her shoulders and flipped up a hood, which hung over her brow and shadowed her face. “We should get one for you , too, huh?”

“Maybe Miss Lady ‘as one yeh could borrow,” Ronan said. “Cuz mine’d all be too small for yeh.”

Blumiere chuckled. “It would certainly be easier than hiding in the trees,” he said. “But I don’t need to be out and about.” With that thought, he added, “Have you found anyone new to use your ability on, Mimi?”

“All of the girls I saw were dumb and ugly. I want to look pretty!” Mimi pouted.

Blumiere raised an eyebrow. “That’s a tall order from someone who needs this disguise to stay safe. You ought to take what you can get.”

“But Melody was so perfect,” she sighed. “I don’t want just any other girl… I want someone perfect!”

“Keep looking then,” Blumiere shrugged. “But if it comes down to being safe or being ‘imperfect,’ you can’t be picky.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Mimi brushed him off with an eye-roll. Blumiere narrowed his eyes but said nothing else, stunned by the girl’s attitude.

Through the leaves, he saw Timpani returning, expertly holding four cups of cider in her hands. Ronan, who had also been peeking through the foliage, pushed his way back out the way he came, saying, “I’ll go help ‘er.”

Soon, they both returned to the little hideout. Ronan passed a cup of cider to Mimi, and Timpani passed one of hers to Blumiere.

“Careful, it’s hot,” Timpani warned.

He blew the steam off of the cider and took a small sip. It tasted just as he’d suspected, like warm apples. “Mm. It’s delicious!”

Timpani smiled at him from behind her cup. “It’s even better in the wintertime. Perhaps you could come to the Winter Festival too!”

“Perhaps,” Blumiere nodded. Would he still be visiting Timpani in the winter? 

Ronan gasped. “Oh, the winter one! Ah’ve only been once, but it’s great! There’re some really fun games, just like the ones tonight. I wish yeh could play them, too, Blue…” He trailed off. 

“Do you have a sweater he could wear?” Mimi asked Timpani, waving one of her floppy sleeves in the woman’s direction. “Then he could hide like me!”

“Mimi,” Blumiere started, but Timpani perked up and spoke over him.

“I do! I have a few at my aunt and uncle’s house, I can grab one.” Blumiere tried to protest again, but Timpani pressed on, “It’s close by. I could run and grab it in just a few minutes. You’re not too much taller than I am, it should fit you well enough.” She took a step backward and then said, “Oh, hold this for me?” She held her cider out to Blumiere, and he took it, eyebrows arching in bafflement. Then Timpani exited the trees before he could get a word in edgewise. 

“I think she likes you,” Mimi said once Timpani was out of earshot.

“Well,” Blumiere stammered, “I like her, too. She’s a good friend.”

Mimi snickered.

True to her word, Timpani returned a few minutes later with a woolen, dark green sweater. She swapped Blumiere for the ciders while he pulled the thick fabric over his head. He’d never worn such a thing before, so Mimi and Ronan had to help him with the sleeves. 

“It is a tad small on you,” Timpani said, poorly concealing a giggle, “and green isn’t really your color. But it should work to conceal your face! Go ahead, put the hood up.”

Blumiere did as she suggested. The wool warmed his face, but it also protected him from the insects that flocked to him from the trees. 

“Looks good!” Ronan exclaimed. “Now yeh can come play some games with us, Blue!”

Still feeling a bit uneasy, Blumiere looked to Timpani for help.

“Or,” the woman said, “We could find a bench to sit on, not far from the crowds, but still at a safe distance. But the two of you can still find some games to play if you’d like.”

“Okay!” Mimi chirped, and Ronan nodded. The children took off crashing through the trees, no longer bothered to keep quiet.

“Let’s go!” Timpani led Blumiere to a bench near the cider stall. A tree growing overhead covered the bench in shadows. Blumiere still kept his head down, trying his best not to draw attention to himself.

Once seated on the bench, Blumiere dared to look up and examine the features of the festival. “I love the lights,” he whispered. “I remember seeing them from the castle when I was younger. I’d always dreamed of coming down to see them up close.” He took a long sip of his cider and admired the yellow and red lights.

“If you like those, just wait until the fire dance,” Timpani said, brimming with excitement. “Oh, you’ll love it. And they turn off the lights, too, so we can sit closer and watch.”

“There’s a fire dancer?” Blumiere raised an eyebrow. Wouldn’t that be dangerous?

“Not just one. Ten of them. It’s spectacular, Blumiere, just wait until you see it.”

He couldn’t hold back a laugh. Her eyes are shining. And her smile is so beautiful… Catching himself staring at her, he turned away and cleared his throat. “It must really be wonderful, then.”

“It is,” Timpani whispered, leaning her head on Blumiere’s shoulder. 

“You’re not tired, are you?” he asked, watching as she sat her half-full cup of cider on the bench beside her.

“Oh. No, I’m perfectly awake.” He caught her giggling and wondered what could be so funny. 

“Timpani?”

“Yes, Blumiere?”

“You… You’re a good friend, Timpani.”

 “You’re more than a good friend to me, Blumiere.”

“Oh?” His heartbeat quickened.

“You’re my best friend.”

Blumiere rested his head on top of hers. “How can you know such a thing?”

“There’s... something about you. Sometimes, you just know you’d like to spend the rest of your life with a person.”

“Well,” Blumiere murmured, “I suppose that would make you my best friend, too.”

“Guess what? Guess what? Guess what?” Mimi’s cheerful voice broke through the peacefulness of Blumiere and Timpani’s conversation, and both of their heads shot up at once.

“What?” Timpani asked. 

“O’Chunks won a prize! He’s super good at the ring toss game!”

Ronan appeared, lugging an enormous teddy bear behind him. 

Blumiere’s jaw dropped. “My goodness! It’s as big as you!” He looked from Ronan to Timpani and back to the bear. “I had no idea such a thing existed.”

“You don’t know about a lot o’ stuff, Blue,” Ronan quipped innocently. “Cuz yeh lived in that castle yer whole life.”

Blumiere cinched his hood tighter around his head and glanced around at the passersby. None of them were paying any attention, thankfully. “Yes, well… I suppose you’re right.”

“Don’t worry,” Timpani patted his shoulder. “You’ll learn about plenty of things if you keep coming to visit!”

“As I intend to do,” Blumiere nodded. “I’ll come back as often as possible. It’s much more fun here than it is at home.”

“Yay!” Mimi cheered, clapping her hands together. Her enthusiasm cut off with a yelp as a nearby string of lights went out. Section by section, the rest of the lights in the Square snuffed out. 

“The fire dance is about to start!” Timpani stood up and pulled Blumiere to his feet. By now, the only light remaining was a glowing red orb on a stage in the center of the Square. “Let’s go!” she urged. “We can sit a little closer!”

He allowed her to lead him towards a blanket on the ground not far from the stage. There were several blankets on the ground, mostly occupied by children, with a few adults here and there, though most of the older humans were standing. With Ronan and Mimi nearby, Blumiere and Timpani could pass off as parents.

The tribesman fidgeted. “We’re very close,” he whispered. The glow of the stage light was preventing total darkness from cloaking him. 

“They’ll turn that light off soon,” she assured him.

Sure enough, once the crowd had gathered, the red orb was carried off of the stage and snuffed out. Now in pitch darkness, Blumiere was able to relax… until Timpani nudged him in the side.

“Blumiere, your eyes!” she breathed, and immediately he knew what she was talking about. 

How could I have forgotten?!

Like the other members in the Tribe of Darkness, Blumiere’s eyes glowed softly in the darkness. It wasn’t very noticeable, but it would be easy for him to be spotted when there was no other light source around. He squeezed his eyes shut—and then reopened them when a blaze of light flashed across his eyelids.

A man in a silver suit had stepped onto the stage, wielding two torches that were alight with fire. Behind him, nine other men and women stepped onto the stage, forming a V-shape. On the leader’s signal, the group began an elaborate dance, waving their torches in patterns that left streaks across the sky, and sometimes even throwing the torches at another dancer or juggling them. While Timpani stared in awe, Blumiere was simply impressed no one had gotten burned.

When one of the dancers stepped to the center stage and claimed he was going to ‘swallow the fire,’ Blumiere could hardly watch. Noticing his discomfort, Timpani allowed him to cower behind her shoulder. “He’s done it,” she whispered. “Now watch, he’s going to breathe it out!” 

Sure enough, the man on the stage spewed a plume of flames and smoke into the sky, and then turned to the crowd, embracing the cheers.

“Impressive,” Blumiere muttered. He couldn’t help but imagine what it’d be like to hold a flame inside of his stomach. If this is the humans’ idea of fun, it’s a wonder there are still so many of them left!

The fire dancers began their next act, in which they combined acrobatics with their earlier dance. They climbed on top of each other, forming a pyramid that was ablaze with fire. The flames seemed to lick at the edges of the suits they were wearing, but they did not catch fire. Finally, the lead dancer stepped to the center of the stage once more.

“It is time for the finale! The Fire Dragon!” The cheering in the crowd turned into a low murmur. 

“He’s going to ask for a volunteer,” Timpani sounded as though she could barely contain her excitement. “And just wait and see what they do!”

Blumiere wished he could share in her enthusiasm, but the entire fire dancing act had yet to do more than give him goosebumps. 

“Who shall be the dragon’s victim?” the man asked of the crowd. 

Ronan’s hand shot up. “Me!” He shouted, before immediately hiding his hand behind his back. He swung around to look at Blumiere with fear in his eyes. “Oh no. I—”

But the fire dancers had seen Ronan’s hand. Several of their torches veered in Ronan’s direction, pouring hot light all over Blumiere’s face. He ducked his head quickly, but the gasps around him revealed he’d been caught.

At first, only the crackle of the flames filled the air. Blumiere’s heart rattled against his ribs as the sound of footsteps joined the fire.

“ Blumiere! ” Panic doused Timpani’s voice. “ Blumiere, you have to go! ”

He scrambled backward, trying to escape the light of the fire, but as he stood, his foot caught on the blanket and he fell back. He locked eyes with one of the dancers and froze.

For a moment, no one moved. The torch’s light revealed his discolored skin. His cerulean eyes glowed faintly in the half-darkness.

“ Seize him, ” one of the dancers whispered, and at once the nine fire-wielders rushed at Blumiere, torches blazing.

Struggling to stand, Blumiere tried to run, but the dancers had a hold of him before he could move a centimeter. As they dragged him towards the stage, he tried desperately to focus on teleporting out of there, but his mind was so overworked he couldn’t think straight. Vaguely he heard Timpani screaming his name, but she was lost in the now-writhing crowd.

They led him to the center of the stage, facing the mass of humans. A dancer on each side held him in place, pointing their torches at him.

“There is a demon in our midst!” The lead dancer called. The crowd was overcome by shouting and jeers.

“Burn him!”

“Teach him a lesson!”

Blumiere struggled against the strong grips on his arms. As he scanned the crowd of yelling humans, looking desperately for Timpani, he caught sight of Mimi.

Well, it was Mimi, for a few seconds. And then, she tilted her head to the side, and before Blumiere could process what he was seeing, she’d become something else entirely.

Six long, spindly legs spewed forth from her neck, lifting her body several meters off the ground. Her head and body dangled, lifeless. Her eyes, now dark, sunken pools, stared into the distance as those sharp, skittering legs took off into the crowd.

Screams of terror emerged among the cries of hatred. Blumiere winced as one of the legs trod right through a human, skewering them and dragging them a couple of steps before depositing them, writhing and bleeding, onto the ground.

The dancers, now focused away from Blumiere, prepared to defend their stage as Mimi approached them. But as two of Mimi’s spider-like legs jabbed into the wood of the stage to haul her upward, the dancers scattered.

A few tried to throw their torches at her, but they bounced right off and onto the cobblestone street behind the stage, catching a blanket on fire.

Mimi managed to trample three of the dancers before the others fled into the trees. The two holding Blumiere dropped him without a second thought and dove off of the stage, screaming.

Blumiere sank to his knees, staring up at the monstrous form Mimi had become. She stepped closer, and for a moment, Blumiere feared she might attack him, too. But then a cloud of purple smoke rolled over him, and when it cleared, Mimi lay on the wood in front of him, curled up and whimpering. Behind her, humans fled the Town Square, disappearing down streets and into the forest. All, except for one.

“Blumiere!” Timpani sprinted onto the stage towards the man and frantically threw her arms around him in a tight embrace. “Oh… Oh, I was so worried…” Timpani sobbed.

Blumiere’s entire body shook. He struggled to breathe steadily. 

“N-Never again…” he stammered.

“No, no, no… You’re right, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have…”

“ We shouldn’t have.” Blumiere corrected her, and then he buried his face in her shoulder, feeling the back of his throat sting with the promise of tears. 

Timpani and Blumiere ceased their hushed conversation as an unfamiliar voice spoke from the base of the stage.

“Ah. I feared this day would come.”

An elderly human male dressed in a thick, light green robe perched on the cobblestone. He stared at Mimi with yellow eyes that glowed softly in the darkness. With steady hands, he pulled the green girl into his arms and pushed the back of her neck. She immediately stopped crying and went limp. 

“Come with me,” he said to the horrified couple. “There is something I must tell you.”

Chapter Text

Remember

Episode Four: Consequences of War

Chapter One

“Where are you going, brother?”

Merlumio froze, feeling a jolt of fear shoot down his spine. Turning to his little brother, he masked his face with an innocent smile. “I need to use the restroom.”

“Liar.”

“Merletoph!” Merlumio’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected such a harsh response. 

“You’ve been leaving a lot lately, Lio. It’s always late at night like this. And I think… I think I know what you’re doing.”

The eleven-year-old boy had nothing to say to his ten-year-old brother. He raised his eyebrows and cocked his head, challenging Merletoph to state his suspicions. 

“Stay away from that book, Lio.”

“What?! How did you — ”

“You think I haven’t noticed? You’ve been acting differently! It’s talking to you, isn’t it?”

“Stop it! You don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m not hearing any voices, it’s just… I…”

“Then where were you going, Merlumio?” Merletoph took a step towards his indignant brother. “Surely you haven’t had to use the bathroom every night.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Then come back to bed, Lio. Please.”

Merlumio clenched his teeth. “B-But…”
“What’s wrong? Is it asking you to come see it?” 

Suddenly Merlumio’s countenance fell. He bowed his head with a whimper and clutched his fists into the fabric of his nightgown. “It doesn’t ask, Leph. It demands. I’m...afraid of what will happen if I don’t do what it says.” 

“What can it do? It’s just a dusty old book…” Merletoph trailed off as he watched his brother’s shoulders tremble. “Okay, let’s go get Father.” When Merlumio began to object, Merletoph continued, “Please, Lio. Let’s go talk to him. He’ll know what to do.”

After a moment of hesitation, the young boy nodded. “O-okay… Let’s go.”

It took every ounce of strength Timpani had to keep from crying.

Following a mysterious man down a forest trail to an unknown location was the last thing she wanted to do right now. Not to mention the sun had already set, so they were trudging along half-blind, the only light being that from a lantern the old man carried. She would have fled, but he had Mimi, and she didn’t dare leave her in his clutches, especially after her dramatic transformation earlier. So many questions filled Timpani’s mind about the power the young girl possessed. She could shapeshift, yes, but only into things she could see and copy. So where had she gotten the inspiration for... that ? She was half-tempted to snatch Mimi away from the stranger, and she probably would have attempted to, were it not for the trembling man she supported. 

She should have sent Blumiere back to his castle after the night’s events. But he had insisted on coming along and, like Mimi, Timpani didn’t feel comfortable leaving Blumiere alone either. 

Doing his best to walk on his own, Blumiere sent her terror-stricken glances from time to time and would occasionally attempt to smile at her, as if he were trying to pretend that nothing had happened at all. She could see the conflict in those glowing eyes of his, and it brought about an ache in her chest. 

“I should have stayed behind,” Blumiere muttered for the umpteenth time. 

“It isn’t your fault,” Timpani said. “Please don’t blame yourself for this.”

He stared at her. “That’s not what I mean. I should have… never … Never left… My father was right…”

Timpani’s stomach tightened. If he regrets leaving his castle… Does that mean he regrets meeting me, too?

Before she could ponder that any further, the elderly man ahead of them stopped in his tracks and muttered, “We are here.”

Timpani blinked and surveyed the endless darkness of the forest, searching for a structure. “There’s nothing here,” she sighed, letting her irritation cover up her nervousness. She pushed away the fear that crept into her stomach and squeezed Blumiere’s hand. The young man shifted on his feet, watching the older fellow with a mixture of hesitation and intrigue.

He gently lowered Mimi to the ground and stepped away from her. Placing his hand on the bark of a nearby tree, he turned his face towards the sky and closed his eyes. Then, in a flash of light, a house fazed into view behind the tree. 

While Timpani gaped, Blumiere let go of her hand with a gasp and staggered forward. “That was celestial magic! How did you…?”

The old man returned to pick Mimi up again and then approached the house. “Perhaps you know me, dark magician. My name is Merletoph.”

Another gasp escaped Blumiere’s lips. “Merletoph? No! You can’t be!”
“Why not? Because I’m supposed to be dead? So you thought… so the whole Tribe of Darkness thought…” Merletoph trailed off and entered the house, leaving a bewildered Blumiere and an exasperated Timpani behind. 

“But… But Merlumio killed you!” Blumiere scrambled through the doorway. 

“Obviously not. For here I stand.” 

“So...after all this time…”

Timpani burst into the house after them, cutting Blumiere off. “Alright! Somebody needs to explain what’s going on here.”

“Oh.” Blumiere mussed a hand through his hair and sighed. “Right. Er, how do I even begin…?” 

Merletoph, who still cradled Mimi in his arms, stepped toward them and said, “Allow me to explain, miss.”

“Timpani,” she stated. She stood firmly in front of Merletoph, even after he gestured for her to sit on a couch near the door.

“Timpani,” Merletoph repeated. “I would be happy to answer any questions you have. And you as well, magician.” 

Blumiere nodded and sat, wide-eyed, on the middle cushion of the couch.

“His name’s Blumiere. Now, Merletoph,” She addressed the elderly man with authoritative confidence. “I would like an explanation for all of this. What happened to Mimi? What did you do to her? How do you even know Mimi? For that matter, how do you know Blumiere? How does he know you? And who is Merlumio?” She raised an eyebrow, unwavering.

“To answer that many questions, perhaps it is best we start at the beginning. Sit down, it will be a while.” Merletoph turned out of the small living area and walked through a doorway into what Timpani assumed was a kitchen. He lowered Mimi onto a wooden table and arranged her limbs to look more natural. 

Sick to her stomach, Timpani again refused the offer to sit and stalked over to the table on which Mimi lay. “I don’t know that I can trust you. Not after what you did to Mimi.” She reached past Merletoph and brushed a few strands of Mimi’s hair out of her eyes. 

Merletoph leaned away from Timpani and sighed. “I did not harm her, I promise you. I only had to shut her down. She needs to be repaired.”

Timpani shot a glance over her shoulder at Blumiere to make sure he was hearing this. “Shut her down? What do you mean by that? ”

With careful movements, Merletoph turned Mimi over on her stomach. Now curious, Blumiere approached and peered over Timpani’s shoulder. Merletoph brushed the green hair away from Mimi’s neck with a steady hand and nudged the skin beneath it. A thin, metal square emerged from a tiny slot. Merletoph removed it and presented it to Timpani, who gaped in a mixture of awe and horror. 

“What...is that?” Blumiere asked.
“What is Mimi?” Timpani clarified, her eyes caught between the metal square and Mimi’s breathless body.

“Magic-Inspired Mechanical Intelligence,” Merletoph said. “Mimi is not made up of flesh and blood. She is comprised of both mechanical parts and magic. This component I’ve removed from her contains her memories or, at least, the ones she’s made since she ran away.”

“Why would she run away from you?” Timpani narrowed her eyes. “What do you do to her to make her afraid of you?!”

Merletoph glared at Timpani and exhaled through his nose. “I have done nothing to her. She needed to be repaired, so I shut her down and removed her memory disc so she would not recall the operations. After I was finished, I returned her memories, but I put in an empty memory disc by mistake, instead of the full one, so when she returned to life, she did not recognize me, and ran away.”

Timpani raised an eyebrow. “So, if that’s true… Her memories of Blumiere and I are only on this square, and her memories of you are on some other square? Will she forget about us when she wakes up?”
“And Ronan,” Blumiere whispered. “He would be devastated if Mimi forgot about him.”

“I can merge them.” Merletoph stepped over to a counter behind the table and began tinkering with something. “It will take a while. In the meantime, perhaps I can answer more of your questions, milady.”

“You said earlier it would be easiest if you started from the beginning.”
“Right you are. Ahem… I am a member of the former Tribe of Ancients. The last member alive, possibly… The tribe formed in order to sustain a balance between light and darkness throughout the worlds, and their main goal was to protect the Dark Prognosticus, a book that contained a soul that wished to bring darkness upon all worlds and dimensions. The only way the book could do so, however, was through a host…”

  “What troubles you, Merloo?”

“It is my son…Merlumio. He… Well, I know we have observed the signs for some time now, but I never thought it would get to this point…”

“No… The Prognosticus…”

“It is speaking to him, yes. I fear for him, Merlumina. What am I to do?”

“Merloo, perhaps it is time we and the rest of the Prognostic Order learned more about this book. Perhaps we should delve deeper into the prophecies it foretells.”

“And what good would that do us?”

“We could use our own magic to contradict the prophecies…”
Merloo shook his head. “Impossible—”

“ Father !” A frantic Merletoph stumbled into the room, wide-eyed and out of breath.

Anticipation brought Merloo to his feet, and at once he ran for the door.

Merlumio met them in the hallway. “I told you not to get father!” he shouted, jabbing a finger towards Merletoph. 

“I was scared, Lio…”

“Shut up! I hate you!”

“Merlumio!” Merloo boomed, stepping in between the two boys. “Be kind to your brother. Now, what is the meaning of this?”

“He tried to kill me…” Merletoph whimpered. 

“Liar!” Merlumio’s words came out in a hoarse screech, and he lunged for his little brother. Merloo scooped the child up before he could get very far. The boy thrashed for a few seconds before going limp in his father’s arms. Then his body began to shudder. “Father, help me,” he sobbed. “I don’t want to be like this… I didn't mean to hurt him…”

“After that, I rarely saw my brother. My father would keep close watch over him at all times, and the only time we were allowed to be together was when my father was present. Our meetings grew fewer and fewer until it felt as though I no longer had a brother at all. And then one day…”

The whole castle shook. Merletoph pulled his knees to his chest and curled up in the corner of his room, heart pounding. He hadn’t seen his father in almost an hour, and no one else had come to retrieve him. The only door to his bedroom was blocked by a layer of the ceiling that had collapsed in the hallway, and he couldn’t sense his father’s soul signature, so he had nowhere to teleport to. 

As hard as he tried, he couldn’t seem to pick up his father’s signature. There was always an inkling in the back of his mind that his father was nearby, and its absence filled him with immeasurable fear. 

Suddenly another presence filled his mind, and in front of him, the world warped and swirled, revealing Merlumio.

“Brother.” He spoke but it was not his voice. Merletoph flinched.

Merlumio hovered about a foot off the ground. His appearance had completely changed; his white hair and green robes had turned black, his yellow eyes had turned red, and his pale skin had been stained a dark blue. In his hand was the tome he had sworn his life to protect: the Dark Prognosticus.

“I cannot remember what happened after that. I woke up about a day later amidst a ruined city. My brother was the cause of the destruction, and for several hours more he set fire to houses and murdered the natives… I did not try to escape, for I did not know where to go, or even where I was. Finally, the natives, the humans, retreated and the bloodshed stopped. Merlumio, following the instructions of the Prognosticus, built a castle on top of the ruins. We lived there for many years, during which I rarely saw my brother. I would hide from him, but he would always find me, and ask me to do strange things. He wanted me to help him build his kingdom, but again and again, I refused…”

“The Voice speaks, Merletoph. Come, the ritual won’t take long. Just a bit of your blood…”

“Cease this madness, Merlumio! I will not commit to your ways!”

“But how else am I to expand the Tribe?”

“Perhaps it would be better if you did not!”

Merlumio laughed and struck his brother with a bit of dark magic. It sent a fiery sensation through Merletoph’s body, causing him to fall to his knees. 

“Lio…”

“Enough. You are useless, brother. If you will not commit, then I will find someone else.” He left his brother on the floor, writhing in pain.

“That same night, Merlumio came back with a woman from the village. He treated her more horribly than he could ever treat me, for she had no magic to defend herself with… I could not bear to watch him abuse her, so I ran away to the village. However, they would not let me stay, for fear of my magic and my relation to my brother. So I was cast out into the woods, and I stayed here in my magically cloaked hut for years. It was during that time that I worked on practicing and expanding my magical abilities. I grew highly skilled in dimensional travel, just as my father was. My eyes were opened to millions of worlds and dimensions; finally, I was able to return home…”

The castle he’d grown up in was a shambles. Merlumio had gotten here first, it seemed. Merletoph reached out, searching desperately for the soul signatures of the ones he knew. He only sensed three, the remaining members of the Prognostic Order: Merlumina, Merlight, and Merlimbis. After a bit of searching, he found them amidst the rubble, huddled together.

“Merletoph?” Merlumina croaked.

“What happened?” the sage knew the answer.

“Merlumio came, a-and…” Merlight was struggling to breathe. “But no matter… We have done our duty… We have taken the steps necessary to save the worlds from destruction.”

Merlumina struggled to her feet. “Your brother is long gone,” she took Merletoph’s hand, “and soon, so shall be the fate of the Ancients…”

“But—”

“Worry not, Merletoph. Someday, that book will be stopped…”

“I will stop it. I will save my brother!” 

The light in Merlumina’s eyes faded. “Leph, you mustn’t get yourself hurt. Go back and wait for the right time. You will know when it has arrived.”

“I had to leave them behind.” Merletoph’s voice shook as emotion broke into his calm words, and he took a moment to clear his throat. “I returned here and continued to study magic. Then, about twenty years ago, I dared to show my face to the humans again. I thought perhaps no one would recognize me, since, in my old age, I looked like one of them. I met a middle-aged widow named Celia who was willing to talk to me, and as time went on we grew to trust each other. I told her everything that had happened and in turn, she bore us a single child, a daughter who we named Sha’i.”

Blumiere shot up from his seat on the couch. “Sha’i? Your daughter is named Sha’i? Where is she?”

Timpani grabbed Blumiere’s arm. “You know her , too? How do you know people in this town that I don’t know?”

“Well, Sha’i no longer resides here,” Merletoph cut in. “And might I add, I’m just as curious as you are, Lady Timpani. How do you know my daughter, Blumiere?”

The young man clasped his hands together. “Yes, that… I-I’ve never actually seen her… But I know her… er— Well, she and my uncle…” 

Merletoph narrowed his eyes. “Ah. Your Tribe knew about that, did they?”

“He only just told me,” Blumiere said, rubbing his neck as heat crept toward his ears. “He claimed no one else knew. He only told me because he wanted me to find her.”

A scowl drew more creases in Merletoph’s wrinkled face. “Their relationship was a foolish one. A member of the Ancients and a Mage of Darkness… It is a good thing they did not bear children, for such a child would be endlessly tortured by the forces of light and dark, forever susceptible to corruption from either side.”

Blumiere’s eyes widened. “Y-yes, yes, that would be terribly unfortunate…”

“In any case, your uncle has sent you on an impossible errand.” Merletoph stepped over to the table, brandishing Mimi’s repaired memory chip. “I can sense Shai’s soul wandering through dimensions as we speak. I am certain she has found this world’s Dimensional Gateway.”

“What is that?” Timpani added another question to her interrogation.

“Every world and dimension has a Dimensional Gateway, which is usually well hidden. They all lead to The Gateway, a massive, maze-like dimension that contains a door to every world and dimension. The doors are ever-changing, and most who enter never return to the world they started at.”

“So Sha’i’s not coming back,” Blumiere muttered. “Unless...could she teleport back?” 

“I doubt she will,” Merletoph sighed. “She sought after that door for a reason. She knows she has a place to come back to, but I do not think that is her plan.”

Merletoph inserted the memory chip into the back of Mimi’s neck, and immediately the girl came back to life. After cracking her neck a few times, she blinked and stared in turn at each person in the room. 

“What...just happened…?” she whispered. “I feel...weird.”

Timpani hopped up and made her way towards the green girl. “Mimi!” she laughed, “You’re alright!”

“And so are you… and Blue… and Papa…” Mimi’s brow was furrowed. “Wait… what happened to me? And where’s O’Chunks…?”

“Perhaps it would be best if I explained that to you later, my dear,” Merletoph helped her down from the table. “Now, go get ready for bed. Perhaps you can get an hour or two of sleep in before the sun rises.”

Timpani and Blumiere exchanged a glance. The mention of the sun rising had Blumiere looking sick to his stomach. “I should go home…”

“You do need to rest,” Merletoph agreed. “Especially after what happened tonight.” 

Timpani shuddered at the recollection of what Blumiere had been through. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Go get some rest, Blumiere.”

He took a tiny step in her direction and gave her an exhausted hug, which she returned eagerly. 

“I’ll see you soon, right?” Desperation clouded his tone.

After what they’d been through? Timpani thought she might worry herself to pieces if she didn’t see him again within the next day. “Yes. See you soon.”

Their eyes met for a moment longer and then he teleported away, evaporating as if he’d never been there at all. 

Now alone with Merletoph, Timpani filled the silence with another question. “So, I was wondering about Mimi’s abilities… what exactly can she do…?”

“The magic she is embued with allows her to copy the appearance of any creature she sees.”
Timpani nodded slowly. “And... she cannot copy someone who is dead, correct?”

Merletoph’s expression darkened. “You know of Melody, then?”

“Yes.”

“I apologize.”

“Pardon?”

“Mimi did not lose her ability to shapeshift into Melody because Melody died.”

Timpani raised an eyebrow.

“Melody died because Mimi used her ability on Melody for too long.”

“…what?” The caramel-haired woman stood with her mouth agape. “So Mimi…”

“Every time she uses her ability, she steals a bit of energy from the soul of the person she copies. Because she continued to copy Melody over and over again, Melody became very ill. Mimi drove that illness further until she succumbed to it, and died.”

“D-does she…?”

“Mimi does not know. I do not know how to tell her without upsetting her. I tried to warn her, but she would not listen to me because she did not recognize me. My only hope is to correct  that now.”

“And what of…” Timpani couldn’t describe the monster she’d witnessed Mimi turn into. “Well, when she saved Blumiere…”

Merletoph nodded. “I did not program her to do that. It seems the magic she’s infused with has a mind of its own.”

Timpani’s eyes widened. “Is it dangerous for her to… do that?”

“At the moment, I—”

Merletoph was cut off by a thunderous explosion. Timpani jumped and stumbled backward. The loud noise had come from the distant town. 

“What was that?!” She cried, racing for the door. She slung it open and leaped into the forest, just in time to catch sight of a thin line of black smoke rising above the trees.

It seemed to be coming from Blumiere’s castle. 

“What…?” The word barely ghosted past Timpani’s lips.

“Hmm.” Merletoph stepped through the doorway, coming to join Timpani in his front yard. “Yes, I feared this would happen.”

Timpani tore her gaze away from the smoke and locked eyes with Merletoph.

“Be prepared,” he murmured. “War is coming.”

Chapter Text

Remember

Episode Four: Consequences of War

Chapter Two

"Their marriage was a foolish one. To unite a member of the Ancients and a Mage of Darkness… It is a good thing they did not bear children, for such a child would be endlessly tortured by the forces of light and dark, forever susceptible to corruption from either side."

Dimentio burst into his father's room, became visible, made a few exasperated signs in Aldrik's direction and then disappeared again, all without making a sound. Raising an eyebrow, Aldrik teleported after his son, and a second later both of them reappeared on the castle's roof.

"Explain," Dimentio spat, "why you never told me mother was a descendant of the Ancients."

He was met with stunned silence.

"My grandfather is Merletoph, son of Merloo, a member of the Prognostic Order. Merloo was the most powerful sage to ever live, father! And your father was one of the most powerful mages to ever live! What does that make me?"

Aldrik gritted his teeth and avoided the question. "Who told you this?!"

"Merletoph himself! He's still alive, did you know that, father? And do you know what else he told me? He said mother left. She's not even on this world anymore. Did you know that?"

Again, Aldrik fell silent. Dimentio hovered closer to him, studying his father's eyes. When he refused to meet his masked gaze, realization dawned on the young magician.

"You did know that, didn't you?"

"Hmph."

"Of course you did! If she was an Ancient she would have had a soul signature! You knew all along exactly where she was! You probably know where she is right now!" Dimentio had advanced further, his voice continuing to rise in volume.

"She does not have a signature. Her father did not teach her magic. He wanted her to be as close to a human as possible. She ran away the night she left you with me, once you were old enough to live without her. She was afraid of you."

Aldrik's bluntness stunned Dimentio.

"Aha ha. She was afraid of me."

"Yes."

"Of course she would be. I am a monster, after all. Neither human nor mage nor sage. I am an abomination, isn't that right, father? Aha ha ha ha."

After another moment of silence, Aldrik muttered, "You are...unique."

"Aha ha ha ha ha."

"Goodnight, Dimentio. And please, no more questions."

"Oh, but father," the motley-clad boy cut in, "there is one more thing I need to ask."

Aldrik hesitated, but before he could deny his son the right to speak, Dimentio pressed on, "If you knew mother was gone all along, why did you send Blumiere to search for her?"

"I…"

"It was a very dangerous task. He almost died."

Aldrik's eyes widened.

"The humans almost set him aflame. Just like Anastaise, aha."

"How in the worlds did he escape?"

"He—" Dimentio paused and again advanced on Aldrik. "Now that's a curious question, father."

"What do you mean?"

"Aren't you going to ask if he's alright? Are you not concerned at all for your dear nephew?"

"I—"

"First you send him into town on an impossible mission, knowing the hostile nature of the humans, and then you act surprised that he made it out alive."

"Be silent, Dimentio."

"You were trying to get him killed, weren't you, father?" Dimentio's voice wavered for a split second as Aldrik closed the gap between them. In a sudden wave of alarm and presentiment, he lashed out at his father, expelling a blast of magic from his fingertips. Immediately he was thrown backward as the orb bounced harmlessly off of Aldrik and exploded. The air around the mage rippled; he stepped onward toward his son, unfazed.

Relentless, Dimentio staggered to his feet, raised his face to the night sky, and screamed, "You were trying to kill Blumiere! You sent him to his death! Aha ha ha! But he's still ali—"

Dimentio was cut off as Aldrik lunged forward and grabbed his wrist. He gagged as his father shot dark magic into his bloodstream; immediately his entire body went numb and he dropped to the ground with a thud.

"Be silent," Aldrik repeated. Then he teleported away, leaving the twitching boy behind.

"A...ha ha… ha…" Dimentio sputtered out one more laugh before he could no longer move his lips.

Blumiere was surprised to find Aldrik waiting for him in his room. At least it wasn't his father, but the sight of the mage still made his stomach churn.

"Uncle?" he whispered. "What are you doing here?"

"Dimentio told me everything that happened," Aldrik stated. His face held no emotion.

A shiver ran down Blumiere's spine. That means Dimentio was following me the whole time, he realized. The thought made him uneasy; was Dimentio always watching him? Was he in the room right now? "Everything…?"

"Yes."

"So you know that… Sha'i is gone."

"Yes…"

"I am so sorry, Uncle."

"I did not know before that she was a member of the Ancients," Aldrik sighed. "I am surprised she does not have a soul signature. But then again, she never used any kind of magic, so perhaps her father never taught her."

Blumiere recalled Merletoph's comments on his uncle's relationship with Sha'i. "So, since Sha'i was from the Ancients, and you are from our Tribe… what does that make Dimentio?"

"I… don't know. I always thought his deformities were because of the Tribe's blood mixing with the human's blood, but now it seems they were caused by the mixing of blood magic and white magic."

"Deformities?" Blumiere furrowed his brow. "Is that why he wears a mask, then?"

Aldrik nodded and then offhandedly added, "But I too wear a mask, Blumiere. I wear a mask to hide deformities that you cannot see." He took a few steps toward his nephew.

Blumiere froze, repeating his uncle's words in his mind. Then, as Aldrik grew closer, he dared to ask, "What do you mean by that?"

"If you haven't figured it out yet, perhaps it is best you don't know at all."

Heartbeat quickening, Blumiere stepped backward, putting distance between himself and his uncle. Aldrik did not move further, but met Blumiere's gaze steadily. His eyes glinted, and for the first time Blumiere noticed there was an orange glow accenting his irises. He blinked and the light faded, leaving Aldrik with a slight smile on his face.

"Anyway, I came here to ask you about that woman you've been seeing, Blumiere."

The young man flinched.

"Even though we know of Sha'i's whereabouts now, I'm sure you'd like to continue meeting her."

"Yes, sir." Blumiere didn't say anything else.

"I will see what I can do. Likely Dimentio will aid you from now on."

"Thank you."

Aldrik stared at his nephew. "Be careful, Blumiere."

"Yes, sir."

Without another word, Aldrik disappeared, leaving Blumiere alone in his room. With a sigh of relief, he released the breath he'd been holding. Without changing into his nightclothes he got into his bed, hoping to make it seem as though he'd been there all night. It wasn't until he laid down that he realized just how exhausted he was; so much had happened since he'd last slept. But even exhaustion could not put him to sleep. After the encounter with Aldrik, Blumiere was now left to wonder what in the worlds his uncle had been talking about.

He could have been referring to his relationship with Sha'i, Blumiere thought. He must wear a mask that hides the feelings he had for her so Father won't know. But then he said, 'Perhaps it's best if you don't know at all.' So there's something he's still hiding from me.

Blumiere sat up. "Wait," he whispered. "He mentioned that Sha'i was unable to use magic. But Merletoph said—"

A deafening explosion rattled the sconces on the walls, causing the blue flames held within to shutter and dance. Blumiere jumped out of bed, heart racing, and ran towards the door. It was locked, but he could hear footsteps and voices in the hallway, and soon his door swung open to reveal a grim-faced King Basile.

"Father! What was that noise?"

"Quickly, Blumiere," Basile motioned for his son to join him in the hallway. "The humans are attacking. We must defend the castle!"

"What?! Father, I can't fight them! None of us can! We aren't trained to use our magic for harm!"

"Would you rather die, then!?" Basile exclaimed. "They fight only with swords and torches, Blumiere. It will not take much to destroy them."

"Torches…?" Blumiere couldn't help but recall the heat of the torches that nearly ended his life. What if the humans recognize me? A stunning realization followed that thought. What if they're attacking because of me?! Hands trembling, Blumiere stuttered, "Father, I-I can't."

Basile took him by the shoulder and led him into the hallway. Nearby there was a window that overlooked the front of the castle. Outside, humans were trickling slowly onto the castle grounds from the small cliff entrance. "Your family is out there fighting," Basile boomed. "And you will fight by their side." With that, he teleported them both to the grounds below.

Henri and Dorian, two of Blumiere's older brothers, were hurling magic orbs at humans a few meters away. Basile nudged Blumiere in their direction. "Help your brothers. I am going to find Aldrik."

Basile's dark gaze met his with a stern glare, and Blumiere's heart lurched. He was looking for Aldrik? I have a terrible feeling he's not looking for him so they can fight together…

"And I will need a word with you, too, Blumiere. I'd like to have a talk with the both of you, actually."

"Yes, sir," Blumiere managed to utter, before turning away from his father, chills running down his spine. King Basile did not say another word, and so Blumiere broke into a run, prepared to die fighting alongside his brothers if it meant he did not have to face his father's wrath.

Ronan lay in his bed, wide awake. Flashing before him were images he could not shake. His best friend, twisting and turning until she was unrecognizable. He dared not shut his eyes for fear of recollecting the scene more vividly; the way her neck seemed to snap right off of her body, and the terrible monster that protruded from her body, lifting her off her feet and scuttling away on six spindly spider legs, pushing through the crowd of people, leaving behind a trail of terror.

After that, he'd fled. He'd weaved through the frantic crowd and sought out his grandmother, clinging to her before following her home. Now, six hours later, she was sleeping in her room across the hallway and he was restless, feeling no more secure than he'd felt out in the open.

Someone was pounding on the front door. Ronan jumped out of bed, refusing to be caught in a vulnerable position if someone planned on breaking in and attacking. As the assault on the wooden door continued, Ronan crept towards his grandmother's room and slid inside without making a sound.

"Nanna? Are yeh awake?"

The snoring figure remained motionless. Ronan prodded her in the side anxiously.

"Nanna!"

She snorted awake right as the front door broke down with a splintering crack. Footsteps thumped through the house. There were three or four people inside, Ronan guessed. He handed his grandmother her glasses and helped her to sit up in her bed. She in turn put a hand on Ronan's shoulder, holding him close.

The harsh glow of a torch rounded the corner to the bedroom, bathing Ronan and his grandmother in yellow light. Three men filed into the room, followed by a young red-haired woman wearing a long green dress. Ronan recognized her as his neighbor, Kathleen. She was carrying a small sword, as were two of the men. The third man had a cloth bag slung over his shoulder.

"Where is your father, immigrant?" the man with the bag demanded.

Ronan's eyes widened and he glanced from Kathleen to his grandmother and back to the man.

"I told you, sir," Kathleen said, "'is father's back in the 'omeland!"

"And my daughter went with him," Ronan's grandmother spoke up, straining her voice so she would be heard. "They're fightin' in a war. We 'aven't 'eard from them in three years!"

"Wha' do you want with 'im anyway?!" Ronan exclaimed.

"We're getting ready to fight a war of our own, here. We need people who are willing to fight."

"Yeh didn't ask me if I wanted to fight!" Kathleen cut in. "Yeh broke down me door and shoved a sword in me face!"

"Who are yeh fightin'?" Ronan furrowed his brow.

"The blue-faces atop the hill," the man growled. "No one wants to do it, but after that attack tonight it seems we've got to make the first move if we want to survive at all."

"'E didn't attack you! You attacked 'im!"

"And how do you know that, immigrant? How do you know he wasn't planning to attack?"

"Because Blue'd never 'urt anyone! Or anythin' at all!"

The man drew back. He exchanged a glance with one of the sword-wielding men and then turned back to Ronan. "Are you saying you knew this demon?"

"Ronan…" his grandmother breathed.

"He's in cahoots with the demon!"

"No!" Kathleen stepped forward. "No, Ronan, surely that's not what yeh meant! Yeh'd never conspire with a demon, would yeh?"

The orange-haired boy gulped. There wasn't anything he could say or do to get him out of this mess. His nanna had taught him never to lie, and even if he did, that wouldn't stop them from attacking Blumiere and his family. So Ronan took a deep breath and said, "I knew 'im. And I know 'he's not plannin' teh attack you."

Kathleen uttered a gasp and covered her mouth with her hand. Ronan's grandmother squeezed his shoulder tightly.

"Well, if you know so much about him," the man with the bag grumbled, "then you should know his tribe's weaknesses, right?"

Before Ronan could reply, the man took his arm and dragged him towards the bedroom door.

"No, please!" his nanna struggled to get out of bed, reaching a hand out towards her grandson. Kathleen tried to coax her back into bed.

"It'll be fine, Aileen, I'll take good care of the lad. Yeh have my word." When she continued to protest, Kathleen added, "Yeh're not fit teh fight, anyway. Ronan's a brave lad. 'E'll be alright, I promise."

At last Aileen gave in. "Per'aps yeh'll save our town… at last…" she whispered. "Per'aps my Ronan will…"

"Per'aps 'e will," Kathleen agreed. And with that, she left the bedroom, sword firmly in hand.

The band of five met up with a group of about twenty other humans at the cliff base. They all held torches, swords, clubs, or other weapons. Ronan, empty handed, turned his head upward to the gray dawn sky, peering at the top of the cliff. Blumiere and his family were up there, unaware of the chaos that was about to erupt. And there was no way he could warn them.

The man with the bag, who had introduced himself as Clay, stood in front of the ragged crowd and addressed them. "Warriors of Tiede! This morning we will take back our land! This morning we will rid ourselves of the demons that live on this hill. Today, we will be free!"

As the crowd cheered, Ronan shuffled closer to Kathleen. "We've tried too many times in the past," she whispered, "and it always ends in sufferin.' Why do they think it'll be any different this time?"

Ronan, lost in thought, did not reply.

Clay continued, "Our plan is this: first, march to the top of the hill and circle the castle. Once we've surrounded the castle, we'll blow open the door and infiltrate their home. Kill everyone you see!"

Once more the crowd cheered. Kathleen gasped, "This is suicide!"

Nonetheless, the ragged warriors began to file up the side of the cliff, through the gate that drew the line between human and demon. Kathleen and Ronan were last in line save for Clay, who took up the rear.

The peaks of the obsidian towers rose into view as they ascended, and for a moment Ronan was lost in their beauty, and it pained him to know that soon the magnificent castle might be in ruins. As dangerous as the beings inside were, he felt bad that they would have no idea this was coming.

Once they reached the top, the line split in two, half heading to the right and half to the left, until they'd encircled the dark castle. Ronan, Kathleen, and Clay stopped right in front of the grand doors that served as the entrance.

Clay knelt down and swung the bag off of his shoulder. He reached inside and produced a round object with two small feet and a wind-up key sticking out of the back. Ronan immediately recognized the item.

"Here," Clay handed him two bob-ombs. "You'll be the one to blow the door open."

Ronan shook his head. "B-but… But a-aren't these illegal?"

"Nothing's illegal when you're fighting a war, kid. Now you're gonna throw those bob-ombs at the door, got it?"

Ronan could only stare at him.

"Please," Kathleen cut in, "let me do it. Don't make the poor lad do it!"

"Hush, immigrant," Clay waved her away. "For all we know, he's the reason the demon decided to attack in the first place."

"No, sir! Ronan'd never—"

"Throw it!" Clay barked with such ferocity that Ronan jumped and, panicking, he hurled the bob-omb at the door. It struck the metal with a clunk and bounced back, unlit.

"Idiot!" Clay took another bob-omb and cranked the key in the back, causing the fuse to spark and catch fire. Then he thrust the explosive towards Ronan, forcing the boy to throw it in order not to be caught in the explosion himself.

This time, the bob-omb hit its mark. A terrible explosion shook the ground, throwing up a cloud of smoke. Kathleen staggered backward, unprepared for the force of the blow.

The warriors all readied their weapons, prepared to enter the castle. But as soon as the smoke cleared, it revealed an unsettling sight. The front doors were still shut tight, and now a dark mage in a purple robe stood in front of them, a magic orb crackling in his hand.

Chapter Text

Remember

Episode Four: Consequences of War

Chapter Three

"War?" Timpani hovered near the cloaked home's front door, eager to see for herself. "No, tell me they're not attacking again."

Merletoph opened the door for her, and they both emerged into the early morning air. Even though the sky was just beginning to brighten, Timpani could see a cloud of smoke rising in the distance, barely visible through the trees.

"No… why are they doing this again? Why now?"

"Lady Timpani," Merletoph sighed, "I think perhaps…"

"Don't say it." She hung her head, the answer to the question weighing deep on her heart. Oh, Blumiere… Suddenly, she gasped. "Blumiere! He might be in trouble!"

She began to run for the town but Merletoph called out to her, "No, milady! You can't hope to stop them now!"

"I don't plan on stopping them! I'm going to find Blumiere and get him out of there!"

"And how do you plan on doing that?"

"I was planning on coming up with something when I got there!"

"Foolish." Merletoph shook his head. "Lady Timpani, without any magic to protect you, even stepping foot on that battlefield would make you vulnerable to grave injury."

"Then teach me something," Timpani took a step towards the sage. "Give me some magic that would allow me to defend myself."

Merletoph exhaled slowly, deep in thought. "There is only one thing I can teach you."

Timpani nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"Teleportation can be learned by anyone willing to study the techniques. However, as soon as you make your first move from one space to another, you will obtain a soul signature. And that, milady, would put a target on your back. Anyone else who can teleport would be able to track your location while you are on this world, and a powerful magic user would be able to track you across any world or dimension."

"Well, that doesn't make sense at all."

"Why not?"

"Blumiere's father never found him when he was with me in the meadow. And you just saw him teleport back home. Why wasn't he tracked?"

Merletoph put a hand to his chin. "His signature was cloaked, though I'm not sure how… Likely a powerful mage from his tribe did it for him."

"He couldn't do that himself?"

"It is a very powerful spell. I did not think there were any mages that powerful left. The tribe's power is significantly weaker than it used to be."

"I'll have to ask him about it later," Timpani pressed, remembering the urgent matter at hand. "Is there really nothing else you can teach me that would help me?"

Again, Merletoph closed his eyes in thought. "There is nothing I can teach you… but perhaps there is something I can give you."

"Give me?"

"Yes. A shield of magic. However, since you are not magically inclined yourself, I am not sure how long it will last."

Timpani stared at him. "Why didn't you mention that to begin with?"

"It might not work."

"I was going to leave without anything at all!" Timpani huffed. "And I would like to leave now, if you don't mind."

Merletoph, knowing she was too stubborn to sway, gave in. "Very well, Lady Timpani. I will use the spell on you. But please, be careful."

"Of course." She stepped closer to him, waiting for him to cast the spell. With closed eyes he folded his hands in front of him and concentrated, muttering something beneath his breath. A moment later Timpani felt a warm sensation envelop her, starting at the top of her head and making its way down to her feet. Light rotated around her in swirls and then dissipated, leaving her feeling no different than before. "Did… Did it work?"

"I... believe so." Merletoph's tone was unconvincing.

"I guess we'll see, then," Timpani started for the trees again. "I am going to find Blumiere, Merletoph. I will come see you and Mimi later."

The sage grunted. "Please, Lady Timpani—"

"I'll be careful. Don't worry." And with that, Timpani disappeared into the forest.

A hesitant silence fell over the crowd of human warriors as the dark mage emerged from the smoke, magic orb at the ready. The castle's front door did not bear even a scratch, and all previous plans of a sneak attack had been thrown out the window. At a loss of what to do, many of them anxiously inched towards the cliff's exit, now unconfident in their odds of winning this fight.

Clay, however, was not ready to back down. "What are you waiting for? Attack!" He picked up a bob-omb off of the ground, lit it, and hurled it at the looming figure, but the explosive bounced off of him and ricocheted towards another warrior, who cried out and batted it away with his sword. The air around the mage rippled.

"A barrier?" Kathleen whispered. She was half-shielding Ronan with one arm, her body rigid.

Frantically, Clay picked up another bob-omb, and still no other warrior moved to help him. Ronan, having no weapon, was unable to attack or defend himself; he tried to inch further behind Kathleen, hoping to remove himself from the mage's line of sight.

But he could not move his feet. In a panic he tried to lift each one off of the ground, but they were stuck fast. Hysteric chattering from the other warriors told Ronan he was not the only one in such a predicament. Further examination of the ground around his feet revealed that the grass was glowing softly, rippling in subtle lines. The dark mage stepped towards Clay, unaffected by the spell. Each step set off circular ripples, as if he were walking on water.

As the warrior leader prepared to throw his bob-omb, the mage disappeared suddenly, coming back into view right behind Clay. He grabbed Clay's wrist, causing him to drop the unlit bob-omb onto the ground. It stuck into place, frozen like the crowd of humans.

"Humans!" the mage boomed. "Your kind is not welcome here!"

Clay struggled and yelled. Despite the fact that this was the man who forced him to fight, Ronan longed to help him in some way. Above him, Kathleen covered her mouth to hold back a cry of terror.

"It seems you are slow to learn." the purple-caped mage twisted Clay's wrist, eliciting more yelling. "May this be an example to you."

He dug his thumb into Clay's wrist and immediately the man began to spasm, gagging and screaming. His eyes widened and his back arched as he tried to escape the pain that was ravaging his body. A gargled choking sound took place of the screaming and Clay spat blood, doubling over and going limp, only held up by the wrist the mage was grasping. Then the commotion halted abruptly, and Clay's body crumbled, blackened, completely unrecognizable. Pieces of him lay like ashes on the ground.

Ronan whimpered and allowed Kathleen to pull him closer to her. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the terrible image to leave his mind.

"I trust you will not come back," the mage said before teleporting away, leaving the stunned group of warriors behind.

As soon as he disappeared Ronan felt his feet relax as they were released from the ground. Kathleen took his hand and pulled him toward the castle's gate, holding her sword in front of her as a shield. Other warriors followed them closely, but were cut off by another mage, who appeared right behind Kathleen. They made it behind the gate just in time and, without looking back, they fled the battlefield.

"We're alright," Kathleen gasped, "It'll be alright, we made it." Ronan noticed that she was blinking rapidly, likely trying to hold back tears.

"I-is… Did he… die?" Ronan stuttered, asking only for confirmation.

"Don't be worryin' about that lad. We made it okay and that's all that matters."

Not a moment after she spoke, a young man vaulted over the short cliff above them and landed in front of them, magic orb in hand.

Kathleen staggered backward but remained firm. Stepping in front of Ronan, she readied her sword and prepared for battle.

As Blumiere approached his brothers, he surveyed the battle. There were only about 15 humans that he could see, three of whom were attacking Henri and Dorian with swords. His Aunt Lucienne was holding her own against a group of five humans, and his oldest brother Abany was attacking three more near the gate. In front of the castle doors, Perrin and Arabelle, siblings, were tag-teaming to take down the remainder of the rogue group.

Out of the corner of his eye, Blumiere saw his closest brother, Rene, hurtle over the cliff and onto the pathway below, likely to stop some humans who were trying to escape.

He shuddered and reluctantly pressed his thumb and forefinger together, feeling the familiar ache of the blood clotting in his fingertips, mixing with magic to create a projectile orb he could throw at any attackers.

But he didn't want to attack anyone. He wanted desperately for this age-old feud to end, for all of his Tribe's misdeeds to be erased, forgotten. It was a foolish aspiration, he knew, but in this moment it was something he wanted more than anything else.

To be able to see Timpani without worrying about being caught… His heart ached to think of her. Where was she right now? He prayed to the Ancients that she was still with Merletoph, safe and away from this mess.

"Blumiere, watch out!" He tensed and stepped backward as Dorian intercepted a sword that was swinging his way. The human wielding it cried out and grabbed at his arm, clutching where Dorian's magic orb had hit.

"Quit daydreaming and fight!" his brother hissed, turning to fight another human who was gaining the confidence to strike.

Blumiere turned back to the injured man, who had fallen to one knee. He felt sick to his stomach, seeing what his Tribe was capable of. And this was not even the full extent of their power.

If father was able to call upon the Dark Prognosticus, none of these humans would be standing right now. His father didn't even have access to the spells written within the tome's pages. In fact, the extent of Basile's magical abilities were only a few steps above Blumiere's. He knew some higher level spells, and his attacks were much stronger.

His eyes glazed. I wonder if Father can cloak soul signatures…

"Hey," before Blumiere could ponder that thought, the human kneeling in front of him spoke up. "Why don't you… finish me off already…?" The man's arm had started to deteriorate, and blood was bubbling at the corner of his mouth.

Blumiere glanced upward. Their eyes met. Immediately recognition filled the human's expression.

"H-hey, you're the one from the—URK!"

The man slumped forward, dead, a blackened hole carved out of his chest. Blumiere took in a shaky breath and withdrew his outstretched hand, realizing what he'd done.

He turned and ran, ignoring Dorian's surprised exclamation. Entering the courtyard, Blumiere rounded the corner and reached the back of the castle, where the chapel stood, its white granite walls standing out in a great contrast to the castle's dark obsidian. He hadn't gotten very far before he realized another human was following him. This one wasn't injured, save for a small scrape above their eye, but that wasn't something that could have been caused by magic.

What Blumiere immediately took notice of, however, was that the man was carrying a torch. It was a long metal pole with a spear on one end and a cone on the other end that held the flame. In the other hand he held a short sword, which Blumiere hoped would be his weapon of choice.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you're still alive."

What? It took Blumiere a moment to recognize the man as the leader of the fire dancers. He was the one who had nearly taken his life last night.

"I thought that monster finished you off. How did you manage to escape, hmm?"

Blumiere tensed as the man vaulted forward, swinging his sword in his direction. In his hand he had readied another magic orb, and he released it in the man's direction in hopes of defending himself. Both men stepped backward, unscathed.

"You made a grave mistake in trying to attack us last night. And on the night of the festival?" He chuckled and shook his head. "This time I will not fail, demon. I will make sure you never torment our town again."

"I never tormented you!" Blumiere exclaimed, "I did nothing to harm you!" He closed his fist, allowing the orb in his hand to dissolve and fall to the ground. "And I will not harm you. Our Tribe is not as evil as you think it is."

Torch blazing, the man leapt forward once more, aiming for Blumiere's head with the tip of the flaming weapon. "I just watched you murder Elijah! I have no doubt that you intend to harm me!"

He was going to die anyway! This excuse did nothing to lessen the guilt Blumiere felt on the matter, and he knew it would not suffice in stopping his attacker. He sidestepped, the heat from the flames barely singing his hair. Panic overwhelmed him and he veered away, running back toward the battlefield.

The man was faster. He easily surpassed Blumiere and swiped his sword in front of his path. He ducked, rolling to one side and scrambling to his feet once more.

I've got to disarm him! If he wasn't going to attack, Blumiere needed to make sure the human couldn't harm him.

Lunging for the man, Blumiere waited for him to swing a weapon in self-defense. The torch came flying his way; Blumiere made a grab for the hand that was holding it. Only a brief moment of contact was needed for him to administer his spell.

The man's body froze mid-attack, but Blumiere was too late to stop the flame from colliding with him. A portion of his cape caught fire. He unclipped it and threw it to the ground, singeing his left hand in the process. He bit back a cry of pain and seized the torch from the man's hand.

Before he could take the sword, the warrior broke free from the spell and aimed a vicious blow at Blumiere. He raised the pole of the torch and deflected it.

Again Blumiere pleaded, "Put down your weapon! I don't want to harm you!" But the man attacked with full force, leaving Blumiere with no choice.

Over and over again the weapons clashed, metal clanging against metal. The warrior attacked and Blumiere defended, but the blue-faced man was quickly running out of strength. He was not suited to this style of fighting, and the intruder's hobby of fire dancing seemed to have trained him in diligence, agility, and perseverance.

A powerful blow finally knocked the torch out of Blumiere's hand. Thrown off-balance, he stumbled and took a hit to his left bicep. The man kicked Blumiere's feet out from under him and he toppled onto his back with a thud.

An anguished cry filled the air as Blumiere clutched his injured arm. Blood oozed from the wound, spilling onto the grass and staining his shirt dark crimson.

"Now die, demon." the man had retrieved the torch and was pointing it at Blumiere's chest, inching it closer and closer each second. "Let the Queen of the Afterlife know that Gargamel sent you—"

Blumiere dared to look up from his cowering state to see why the man had stopped—and gasped.

Gargamel was frozen in midair, choking and gagging. His face was a white-pale color, unnatural even for a human. Eyes bulging, he gasped and stared at Blumiere, as if begging for help.

Aldrik materialized behind the torch-wielding warrior, suspending him with a magical spell. With a snap of his fingers, Aldrik set the hems of Gargamel's clothes on fire.

Scrambling to his feet, Blumiere shouted over the hysterical screaming of Gargamel. "Uncle, stop! Killing the humans will only make things worse!"

The warrior continued to writhe, the flames cutting into his flesh now. "He was going to kill you, Blumiere. Vermin as such do not deserve to live long enough to attack again."

"He wouldn't have attacked in the first place if…" Blumiere's retort died in his throat. If he hadn't been seen during the festival, none of the humans would have attacked at all. This was all his fault.

By now there was no saving Gargamel. His hoarse cries had shriveled up with the rest of his body, and the smell of burning flesh was so overwhelming Blumiere thought he might gag. Gargamel. Elijah. Both of these men had died because of him, and all of the humans that were going to die during this battle were here on his account.

Gargamel's ashes floated to the ground. Aldrik placed a hand on his grieving nephew's shoulder and said, "Come with me, Blumiere."

"We were just leavin' sir," Kathleen said, quiet but firm. Her sword was aimed steadily at the mage who was blocking their path. Ronan admired her courage. "If you let us pass, we won't be comin' back."

The mage uttered a low, sinister chuckle. "Nice try, human. But if you wanted to make it home in one piece, you shouldn't have come in the first place."

Kathleen gritted her teeth. Ronan knew what words she was struggling to contain, so he said them for her.

"We didn't want teh come! We were forced!"

The mage tilted his head to the side, seeming to notice Ronan for the first time. "And why would they force a child to fight?"

Ronan glanced at Kathleen. He'd been wondering himself for a while; the men had come in looking for his father, but besides the fact that they suspected he had something to do with Blumiere's arrival at the festival, they didn't really have a reason to make him fight in his father's stead. He'd been no help at all so far.

"Because we're immigrants," Kathleen snapped. "And the townspeople don't want anythin' to do with us. They forced us to live outside of their town, and now they're forcin' us to fight."

Ronan's grandmother had never given reason for the location of their home. And the people in town didn't treat him like an outsider. But now he realized that his family and Kathleen had been cast aside from the very beginning.

Just like the Tribe of Darkness.

He watched the mage carefully. The blue-tinted face remained stoic, but there was something in his eyes, if only for a moment, that Ronan recognized as sympathy. A few seconds passed before he replied.

"Whether or not you belong to this world doesn't matter. You are a human. And I have orders to kill any human on castle grounds." Without any more hesitation, the mage released the magic orb he held in Kathleen's direction.

The red-headed warrior sliced it with a well-aimed sword strike, causing the projectile to splatter onto the grassy earth. Then, jumping in front of Ronan, Kathleen advanced a few steps in order to make an attack of her own. But the mage had another orb ready, so Kathleen was forced to swing at that in order to protect herself. She swung the sword over her head, split the orb, and then lunged straight for the blue-faced man, managing to hit him right in the side.

The mage fell to one knee, gasping, and on the way down he made a grab for Kathleen's empty hand. Ronan watched with confusion; why was he leaving himself open for attack? But all things were made clear when, as soon as the man touched her skin, Kathleen froze solid.

"Hey, wait—" Without thinking, Ronan stepped forward to intervene. But before he could do anything, the mage switched his grip on Kathleen's wrist, and suddenly she jolted out of her immobilized state. She staggered backward, crying out in pain.

"What did you do to me?" Kathleen was struggling to stay on her feet, but the mage wasn't doing much better himself. Dark crimson blood was flowing from the wound in his side, and he clutching at it, moaning. He didn't answer Kathleen.

Ronan fretted by her side. "What 'appened?" He pressed closer to her, trying to help her stand. Then he noticed the dark blue veins on her arm, near the wrist the mage had grabbed.

"We 'ave teh go," Kathleen gasped, trying to push Ronan further down the hill. Ronan nodded and helped her go as fast as she could. After they passed the injured mage, Kathleen seemed to gain more strength. But the marks on her arms were spreading, and had by now reached her shoulder.

"We can make it," Ronan cried, pleading rather than encouraging Kathleen. His heart was beating at a ferocious speed, and with each step he looked back to see if the mage would get up and follow them. At last they rounded the first corner of the descending pathway, and he was filled with relief. Kathleen was able to pick up the pace again, and in no time they'd passed the second corner. The gate was in sight.

Their hope and courage was snuffed out in one single moment as the air in front of them rippled, signaling a dimensional traveler. The injured mage from before appeared before them, on his feet again. Immediately he threw a magic orb at Kathleen. Unable to defend herself in time, the crackling ball struck her right in the stomach, and she collapsed, nearly taking Ronan down with her.

"Kathleen!" Ronan clung to her arm. She coughed, struggling to breathe.

"R...run...," she managed, gasping for air. As she coughed again, flecks of blood painted the grass.

Tears were stinging Ronan's eyes. He couldn't leave her! She was supposed to bring him back home! But he didn't have much time to make a choice. The mage was still standing in front of him, staring at him with glazed eyes.

"Please, help her," Ronan whimpered. He knew his plea was in vain, but he couldn't run now. And Kathleen's grip on his hand was loosening. The sword was lying at his feet, and as he glanced at it, he wondered if he would be able to defend himself with it.

"Human vermin," the mage spat. He'd followed Ronan's gaze and scowled. Without another word, he aimed an orb at Ronan's chest. It hit its mark and, as Ronan yowled and slumped forward, the mage teleported away, leaving behind two motionless figures.

Chapter Text

Remember

Episode Five: Rift

Chapter One

She paced the wooden floor of the small house, glancing every so often at the window that offered a view of the snow-covered meadow outside. She studied every sign of movement, hoping that every swaying blade of grass or rustling leaf would be him, coming at last to meet her.

A small bundle was clutched to her chest, wrapped in a crocheted white blanket. When she wasn’t looking out the window she was gazing at the bundle with concern in her yellow eyes. A pair of mismatched eyes stared back at her: one sunny orb that matched her own eyes, and one dull blue eye that reminded her of the one she was waiting for. Soon, he would be here and soon, they would all be safe.

A tiny, pale hand wriggled out of the blanket, connected to a swollen wrist. She sighed and touched the baby’s hand so he would grasp her finger. With her thumb, she stroked the irritated skin on his wrist. Where it was swollen the veins were visible, dark purple paint strokes that stood out against the white skin.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Her mouth wavered into a frown and she threw a glance over her shoulder toward the wall clock. The mechanism inside ticked away rhythmically, turning the ornate black hands around the wooden face of the clock. It was almost seven P.M.

“I apologize for making you wait, Sha’i.”

The woman nearly jumped in surprise. The voice had come from right in front of her, but she could see only the empty living room before her.

“Where are you?” Sha’i stepped forward and pursed her lips together. “We’re running out of time. Stop playing games, Aldrik.”

An invisible force began to pull the bundle out of her arms. Sha’i instinctively wrapped her arms tighter around the baby and took a few steps back. “What are you doing? Stop this, Aldrik, please, it’s almost seven!”

“I need him in order to do this, Sha’i. Give him to me.”

“Let me see your face. Why are you hiding?”

She felt one of his hands next to hers. Before she could shy away again, a cold finger pressed onto her wrist, and she found herself unable to move. Helpless, she could only watch as the baby was taken from her grasp. It was surreal, watching the small bundle hover through the air and come to a halt a few paces in front of her. But then a figure materialized behind the blanketed bundle, holding it in muscular, blue-skinned arms. Sha’i met his intense gaze and gasped.

“Yo...ur… eyes …” she rasped, barely able to move her mouth. A chasm opened in her heart as she realized what this meant.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The cracks grew deeper and wider every time the gears in the clock moved the hands one notch forward, until her heart had completely shattered. In her frozen state, she could only cry.

Aldrik did not say a word. He held the child’s purple-veined wrist between his thumb and forefinger, watching the clock intently for the moment it struck seven P.M. Three seconds… Two seconds… One second… When the minute hand clicked into place, a perfectly vertical line, the baby wailed and thrashed about in the blanket. But Aldrik held his wrist, keeping him from falling to the floor as the cloaking spell was administered to his bloodstream.

By the time Aldrik was finished, the freezing spell on Sha’i had worn off and she crumpled weakly to her knees, glaring up at her husband.

Glowing red eyes met hers, glazed over as if he were in a trance.

“You… promised…” Sha’i sobbed, trying to get to her feet. “You promised you’d… never touch… that book again!”

“I didn’t have to.”  

Sha’i was taken aback by the voice coming out of Aldrik’s mouth. Something wasn’t quite right about it, as if there was something darker behind his tone, speaking in time with him.

“What...do you mean?”

“The Voice allows me to stay in contact with the Dark Prognosticus even while it is not in my possession.” A terrible grin split his face. “You thought I’d be safe if I didn’t touch it. Isn’t that right? Aha ha ha ha… This entire time, you thought I was free from the Voice, didn’t you? You thought I really loved you! Didn’t you?!” His voice was brimming with madness. “Well, my dear, it seems there is only one thing you are good for...”

“Wh-why?”

“...producing an heir.”

“Why?! Why are you doing this?!” Sha’i stood up at last, tears still streaming down her face. “We were going to escape together! Tonight, we were finally going to be s-safe…” her voice faltered. “But this was your plan all along, wasn’t it?”

Aldrik chuckled deeply. “I cannot take credit for this. But I commend the planning of the Voice. It’s been guiding me all along. And now that I have a child who can carry out the Dark Prognosticus’ prophecies, I have no use for you anymore.”

“You can’t have him!” Sha’i lunged for the boy, trying desperately to steal him from Aldrik’s grasp. But he was too quick, and in an instant Sha’i found herself frozen again.

“You told your father you were leaving tonight, correct?”

Sha’i sobbed.

“Then he shouldn’t miss you. I imagine you’ve already said goodbye. I know we had planned to go to The Gateway together tonight, but I think you’ll have just as much fun there on your own. And don’t plan on coming back.”

Sha’i was unable to object as Aldrik took her hand. It was a gentle gesture, and for a moment nothing happened. She couldn’t turn her head, but out of the corner of her eye she noticed a faint blue light.

“Goodbye, Sha’i.” He hesitated.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

And then she was gone.

  By the time Timpani reached the town square, she was gasping for breath. In the dim morning light she could see people scrambling about, moving away from the cliff base where the explosion had come from. Moving against the tide, she waded her way through the crowd and worked determinedly towards the black gate that divided her world and Blumiere’s.

Reaching the intricate entryway, Timpani placed a hand on it and paused for a moment to catch her breath. Not only was she tired due to the run from Merletoph’s house, but she also hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours.

A strangled cry sounded out from somewhere behind the gate, startling Timpani. It was close, and sounded vaguely familiar.

Without taking a second to think things through, the caramel-haired woman threw open the gate and leapt inside, ready to face whatever perpetrator was beyond it.

Timpani was met only by the sight of two motionless bodies. She recognized the first immediately.

“Ronan!” Timpani quickened her pace, flying to his side and kneeling next to him. He was slumped over the body of a girl in a long green dress who looked a bit younger than Timpani. Her braided auburn hair was frizzled and dirty, and Timpani noticed her entire right arm was covered in dark blue-violet veins. Ronan sported a nasty wound on his chest. It was a blackened spot that almost looked like a burn, except it formed a perfect circle, right over his heart.

Both Ronan and the girl were unresponsive, but after a quick test she was able to find a faint pulse in the girl. Ronan’s heart was still beating normally, which Timpani found to be both relieving and a little odd.

Her fingers neared the blackened circle on his chest. It was no doubt caused by some sort of magic, but exactly how had it been administered? It didn’t appear to be very deep, so perhaps it had been thrown from a distance. But then what had caused the wounds on the woman’s arm? Timpani didn’t even know if she could call it a wound. It was more like…something that was harming her from the inside.

Turning back to Ronan, Timpani placed her hand just below his wound. Through the thin fabric of his shirt she could feel that his skin was abnormally hot, pulsing waves of heat with every heartbeat. Her own heart was beating faster. What was she to do? She needed to help them, but there was no way she could carry them both back to town, and she was already running out of time to find Blumiere.

“Ouch!” A burning sensation suddenly caught her fingertip, and she withdrew her hand from Ronan’s chest.

The wound is spreading?!

Timpani blinked down at the black circle, which had widened slightly in circumference. The cloth of his shirt had begun to glow red, as if it were on fire, and the ends of the fibers were slowly deteriorating.

“I wouldn’t touch it, if I were you.”

“Huh?!” Timpani looked up toward the sound of the voice—and nearly screamed. Hovering about a foot over her head was a young boy dressed entirely in purple-and-cream motley. A half-black, half-white mask covered his face and was staring at her with mismatched eyes and a crooked grin. She shuddered. Surely this boy was one of Blumiere’s tribesmates, which meant she was in trouble.

“Please,” she started, but he cut her off.

“Your worry is like that of a child who has just lost their mother,” he quipped in a smooth voice that was made unsettling by his mask. “But I can assure you, your worry is unnecessary.”

Timpani could only stare at him for a moment, taken aback by this bizarre figure. “Wh… Can you… help them?”

The grin somehow seemed to grow wider. “Aha ha ha. Of course not. I am not equipped with magic that can heal these wounds.” He observed Timpani’s crestfallen face before continuing, “However, there’s someone I know who can. Someone you know.”

“Merletoph?” It didn’t take Timpani long to come up with the answer. “But how are you going to get them there?”

“Teleportation, of course!” the boy laughed. “Mere child’s play for the Master of Dimensions!”

And child’s play it would still be, Timpani thought to herself. She stared at the floating figure warily.

“You don’t trust me, do you?”

“Not at all.”

“Too bad!” He laughed again and spun upside-down in the air. “Find a magician you can trust and you’ll be able to obtain things you never dreamed of. Or you’ll fall prey to chaos and live the rest of your life in despair, aha ha.”

“I—”

“Oh, but you’ve already got a magician you can trust, haven’t you?”

Timpani’s blood ran cold.

“I would hurry, milady. I’m not sure how much longer Blumiere will last up there.”

She was on her feet in an instant. “What do you mean?! Is he alright?”

The boy only shrugged. “Why don’t you go see for yourself? I will take care of your friends, aha.”

Timpani took one step up the hill and stopped. “Do you promise you’ll take them to Merletoph?”

“Absolutely.”

“I…” Timpani hesitated. “I want to trust you. I am going to bring Blumiere to Merletoph’s house, and I want to see you there. Alright?”

The grin tilted to the side slightly. “I will see you there, milady.”

Timpani nodded, “Thank you.” She turned and ran up the hill, not bothering to say anything else. When she’d reached the next level of the slope she peered down through the trees. All three bodies were gone. Momentarily she felt like a fool for trusting someone she’d only just met, and especially someone as odd as that boy, but she didn’t have any other choice if she wanted to get to Blumiere. That was, of course, assuming the boy was telling the truth about Blumiere being in danger.

At last she reached the top of the trail. She paused at the twisted fence and listened for any sounds of battle, but the air was eerily quiet. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the scent of rain, and for the first time noticed dark clouds spotting the sky. Hands shaking, she ventured onward.

The second black gate that led to the castle’s front yard was opened already, and just beyond it was another body in a crumpled heap on the ground. Timpani covered her mouth with her hand and stepped closer.

This man was beyond saving. There was a circular wound on his back similar to Ronan’s, except the blackened area had burrowed deep into his skin, eating away at his flesh and leaving his bones exposed. Timpani had to look away. Images of Ronan’s small body deteriorating like this man surfaced in her mind, and she shook her head rapidly in attempt to clear them.

He will be fine, she muttered to herself. That boy will save him.

She did her best to believe her own thoughts and pressed onward towards the castle.

Several more human bodies littered the grass, most of them people Timpani knew. She kept her mouth covered and avoided looking at them. Searching for any sign of movement, Timpani walked along the edge of the cliff, hoping to find Blumiere. But there was no one, not even another mage. Had the battle ended so quickly?

Suddenly, something struck her back with such tremendous force that she was flung forward onto the grass. She slid about a meter and rolled over, groaning in pain. Her whole body tingled, and when she opened her eyes she saw faint glowing spirals circling around her.

The second thing she noticed was the tall, blue-faced man standing over her, a mixture of confusion and anger in his dark eyes.

Three figures appeared simultaneously in the middle of Merletoph’s living room. Dimentio, crouching in between two inert bodies, observed the old man’s back without making a sound.

Merletoph was tinkering with some gears on a counter near the table Mimi had been on earlier that morning. Dimentio reckoned the girl was still in bed. All the better. He needed to speak to the sage privately.

But therein lied the problem; he had no idea what to say. In any other situation, conversation flowed from the boy’s mouth as smooth as a river running down a hill, but now… This was different.

Should he start by introducing himself? He recalled the conversation between Merletoph and Blumiere. One comment in particular surfaced in his mind.

“Their marriage was a foolish one. To unite a member of the Ancients and a Mage of Darkness… It is a good thing they did not bear children, for such a child would be endlessly tortured by the forces of light and dark, forever susceptible to corruption from either side.”

Merletoph considered his own daughter a fool for marrying a member of the Tribe of Darkness. Dimentio couldn’t imagine what he’d think of him .

So starting with an introduction was out of the question. That would come… later. Perhaps, then…?

At that moment, Merletoph turned around and, startled, stared directly at Dimentio.

“Ah, hello.” On the spot now, Dimentio allowed himself to say whatever came to mind, as he usually did. “How fortunate of me to come by your house. Perhaps you could assist me?”

Merletoph stepped closer to the magician, his eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but only a gasp escaped as his gaze shifted from Dimentio to the boy on the floor. “Ronan?!” Again he stared at Dimentio. “What happened?!”

“They got caught up in the war,” Dimentio did his best impression of a sympathetic tone, although he was sure it would be lost through the static smile of his mask. “Those monsters have begun to involve the women and children, too.”

Merletoph wasted no time in checking Ronan’s wounds. Then he stood and examined Kathleen as well. “Now who is she..?” he wondered aloud.

Dimentio didn’t answer, partially because he didn’t know either, and partially because he knew the question would be directed at him next if he said anything.

“And who are you, boy?”

“I am Dimentio,” he replied, pursing his lips together beneath his mask. He chose to omit the rest of his scripted introduction and leave it at that.

“Sit down, Dimentio,” Merletoph commanded. Not expecting such a forceful request, Dimentio immediately hopped over Kathleen and onto the couch, pushing away the rebellious comments that were sitting on his tongue. He would have to behave if he wanted information out of this old man.

“I will do what I can to heal these people, but while I do that, I would like you to answer some questions for me.”

Dimentio now found himself in a position he hadn’t predicted. He’d recited numerous conversations in his head in order to prepare himself for his encounter with his grandfather, but in all of them he’d been the one initiating the questions.

“You are a member of the Tribe of Darkness, I presume?”

“No.” Dimentio’s answer was quick and firm. Despite living near them all of his life, he did not consider himself a part of the Tribe.

Merletoph had removed Ronan’s shirt so he could access the wound and was casting a glowing spell onto it with his hand. Dimentio watched intently as the boy’s skin cells turned from black to tan one by one, slowly mending the damage the dark magic had done. The young magician put his hands behind his back and leaned on them.

“Where did you obtain your magic?” was Merletoph’s next question.

“I was born with it.”

“Who were your parents?”

Dimentio bit his tongue. It was too soon to tell the truth. He hadn’t gotten what he wanted yet. And he was beginning to think that Merletoph might turn him away as soon as he figured out who he really was.

“Both of my parents were magicians, and they decided they didn’t want me. So they sent me away to a different world, aha ha.”

“Why don’t you take off that mask of yours, boy?”

Dimentio instinctively pressed himself further into the couch, but before he could say anything, he felt something brush against his foot. The woman at his feet had rolled over, and all at once she began to moan loudly. Now that she was on her back, her damaged arm was in full view, and a wound on her stomach similar to Ronan’s was revealed.

“Gracious stars above!” Merletoph uttered, momentarily leaving Ronan’s side. As he began to remove Kathleen’s dress, Dimentio averted his eyes and watched as the significantly smaller wound on Ronan’s chest started to expand again. He closed his hands into fists behind his back and wondered if he’d have the heart to heal that boy if it were in his power to do so. He did not reach a conclusion.

Dimentio did not respond to Merletoph’s question and so, barring the pained cries of the woman on the floor, they sat in silence while the sage worked. The magician’s eyes did not wander from the ever-expanding abrasion over Ronan’s heart. An idea struck him.

Levitating over Merletoph and Kathleen, he crouched beside the orange-haired boy and placed his fingers near the wound. He could feel the heat radiating from it, but he could also sense the darkness pulsing from the bits of magic that were left behind. That magic was what was causing the fiery affliction to spread, and the same magic was inside of him, too. He could feel something within him calling out to connect to the dark spell on Ronan’s body, and as the foreign boy’s heart pounded beneath his fingertips, the beating of Dimentio’s own heart roared in his ears.

Before he knew what was happening, a bolt of pain shot up his arm and into his chest. The force of the pain was so great that he toppled over backwards, gritting his teeth to hold back a cry of agony. Clutching at the space over his heart, Dimentio forced himself to get back up.

“What did you just do?!”

He ignored Merletoph’s incredulous inquiry and returned to Ronan’s side. Just as he’d suspected, the dark magic had now completely left the boy’s wound. It had stopped spreading, and the ruptured skin had begun to ooze red and white instead of black. An odd sensation rose inside of him, pushing through his pain. A real smile appeared behind his mask.

Merletoph still eyed him with suspicion, disregarding the fact that Dimentio had just healed the orange-haired boy.

“You are from the Tribe of Darkness, aren’t you?”

“No.”

Merletoph narrowed his eyes. “Take off your mask then, boy, and let us see.”

“Shouldn’t you heal that girl first?” Buying for time, Dimentio laced his tone with concern.

The sage nodded without hesitation, but he took ahold of Dimentio’s arm and pulled him to Kathleen’s side. “Why don’t you help me, Dimentio? Take care of the wound on her stomach, and I’ll see what I can do about her arm.”

Getting the impression that he didn’t have a choice in the matter, he shrugged his shoulders and focused on the small abrasion, careful to keep his eyes from wandering. Just like the previous wound, Dimentio could feel the darkness inside of it tugging at him, and it didn’t take him long to absorb this darkness, too. This time his stomach was afflicted with pain, and as he doubled over and grunted, he felt a hand on his back.

“Well done, Dimentio.”

He twisted his neck so he could look up at Merletoph from his position. “What?”

“I said, ‘well done.’ You did good work, Dimentio. I am pleasantly surprised.”

Dimentio did not respond. He had no idea how to respond to something like that. Well done? What did that even mean? Merletoph was ‘pleasantly surprised’? What was he expecting out of him?

And then, while Dimentio was too stunned to object, Merletoph removed the mask from his face.

Immediately, the magician sprang back, covering his face with his hands. “Give that back!” he cried, his voice muffled.

Merletoph stood, mask in hand, and approached the now levitating boy. The glimpse of Dimentio’s face he’d seen was enough to tell him the truth. With gentle hands he took hold of his gloved wrists and guided them away from his face, finding it easy to overpower the young boy. He was met with a heterochromatic glare and a harsh frown that was so unlike the mask tucked under Merletoph’s arm. Long, dark brown hair poked out from underneath the motley hat and fell onto pale white skin.

“You’re Sha’i’s son.” Merletoph whispered. A smile grew on his face. “And look at you. You look so much like her.”

“I am an abomination,” Dimentio recited. “I look nothing like her.”

The sage moved one of his hands to the side of Dimentio’s face, causing him to shy away. “You have the same light in your eyes, the same beautiful hair.”

“That’s not true! She left because she cou— she couldn’t bear—“ his face twitched with the strain of holding back his emotions.

Merletoph’s countenance fell. “She left? She’s not with you?”

“Of course not. She was afraid of me, after all. A-aha.” And then Dimentio realized what Merletoph meant by his words. “Then...you don’t know where she is, either...”

“She left about seven years ago with your father… at least, that’s what she said.”

At last he’d reached the conclusion. The answer to the question he’d intended to ask all along. And it was the answer he’d dreaded the most.

Merletoph had no new information about his mother. In fact, he knew less than Dimentio did. He’d prepared for this revelation, but the suddenness of it took the boy off guard. He closed his eyes, longing for the safety of his mask to cover his emotions.

“My father never left,” Dimentio whispered. “Mother left by herself. She must have lied to you.”

“Sha’i is wandering through dimensions…Alone…” Merletoph muttered.

“And she’s not coming back because she never wants to see her monster of a son again. Ahaha. She was glad to be rid of me.”

Merletoph laughed softly and Dimentio opened his eyes slightly to stare at him. “My dear boy, I can say without a doubt that, if your mother were to see you again, she would be very proud of you.”

Proud…

Dimentio closed his eyes again and shook his head. “Why?”

“Because you haven’t lost to the darkness yet. There is still time for you to decide.”

His yellow eye opened inquisitively. “Decide what?”

“Your path. Darkness or Light. Because of your lineage, both forces fight against each other, hoping to claim you. If you wanted to, you could banish the darkness inside of you and turn to a path of light, like your mother. Or, you could stay on your current path and walk in darkness like your father. It is your decision alone.” He freed Dimentio from his grasp and the boy hovered backwards a few centimeters, staring down at the ground.

What a ridiculous notion, Dimentio thought, that I could be anything but a child of Darkness like my father, especially if I’ll never be able to find my mother. He shook his head but said nothing, and tried to keep his face as emotionless as he could.

“Of course, you don’t have to decide now, Dimentio.” Merletoph offered the magician his mask. He eagerly took it and refastened it to his hat, grateful for the protection it offered. Now shadowed by an ever-present grin, his eyebrows arched and a frown trembled on his lips, harboring the cries of sorrow that sat in his aching stomach.

“However, I would like it if you stayed a little longer. I may need more help healing these two.”

Dimentio wasn’t expecting the warm hand that grasped his shoulder.

“And, I would like to get to know my grandson.”

Chapter Text

Remember

Episode Five: Rift

Chapter Two

It had been about an hour since Dimentio first arrived at his grandfather's home. He'd come intending to gather information from the old sage, but he'd come out of the confrontation with less information, more confusion, and a decision to make.

So here he sat in Merletoph's bedroom, struggling to organize his thoughts while he watched over the two inert bodies he'd saved. The boy called Ronan was lying on a blanket on the floor, next to a glass window that was pitter-pattering with rain. The anonymous woman was in Merletoph's bed, shifting and groaning in a restless state of semi-consciousness. Dimentio was curled up in a cushioned chair next to an elaborate desk, knees pulled to his chest. He mulled over what Merletoph had told him, starting over and over again from the simple phrase, 'darkness or light?'

I'll never be anything less than a dark mage like my father, was the conclusion he would reach more often than not. Then a voice would chime in, But would your father save those two humans? Would he go through the trouble to heal their wounds? And he would start over again. It was rather tiring, really.

He traced his index finger over the permanent smile on his mask, the smile that hid the scowl on his real face. Suddenly frustrated, he tore the thing from his hat and flipped it around so he could look at it.

"Half white and half black," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm nothing more than a hybrid. A mess that never should have existed in the first place." The constricting of his throat caused his voice to crackle, so he added hastily, "Aha ha."

The bedroom door creaked open, allowing Merletoph to enter. The mask was hiding Dimentio's face before his grandfather had a chance to look at him, but still the sage said, "You should leave your mask off, my boy. There's no need for it here. In fact, you could do without most of that outfit."

The mask that covered his face, the hat that covered his hair, the gloves that covered his pale hands. All of these things were meant to conceal the abnormalities that made him exactly what he was: a monster. But for some reason, Dimentio felt compelled to obey Merletoph. It was exactly as it had been when he'd first arrived here, and it was part of the reason he was still here. The other part being he intended to keep his promise to the woman who had found the two bodies, but if it was only for her, he'd have just waited outside behind a cloak of invisibility.

This fact unnerved Dimentio. The thought of feeling some sort of obedience towards anyone other than his father made him...uneasy. And yet once again he unmasked his face, placing the magic-infused porcelain on the desk. His hat and gloves followed soon after.

Merletoph merely smiled, saying nothing as he studied the likeness of his daughter in his grandson's face. It was then, while averting his gaze in discomfort, that Dimentio noticed Merletoph was carrying a scroll. A spell, he imagined, that would reduce the effects of the wound on the woman's arm.

Before moving both of the humans into the bedroom, Dimentio and Merletoph had finished mending the orb-wounds on the woman's stomach and on Ronan's chest. Being thoroughly stumped on how to heal the purple veins coming from the woman's right wrist, Merletoph had ordered Dimentio to teleport both of them to the bedroom while he searched for a cure.

That had been about ten minutes ago. Now, Merletoph unrolled the scroll and beckoned for Dimentio follow him to the bed where the woman was lying.

"There used to be a book with all of these spells," the sage was muttering.

"What happened to it?" Dimentio asked, cringing at the raw sound that came out of his mouth. It sounded different without the echo of it reverberating behind his mask. It seemed...more childish, perhaps.

"It was destroyed," Merletoph said, "just like most of the Tribe of Ancients."

Dimentio recognized the bluntness of his grandfather's voice as a verbal barrier. This was obviously not something he was keen on expanding upon. The magician said nothing in reply.

"Now," Merletoph continued in a lighter tone, "let us take a closer look at her arm. Dimentio, if you would, place your thumb over her wrist, where the lines are closest together."

"Me?" Dimentio turned to Merletoph with wide, mismatched eyes.

"You, my boy."

"But this is a white magic spell, isn't it?"

Merletoph offered him a smile. "You are correct. But as I told you earlier, your lineage gives you the opportunity to learn both white magic, like the Ancients and blood magic, like the Tribe of Darkness. Before you decide which path best suits you, I decided it would be fair to at least show you how white magic works. Come now, I will walk you through it, step by step."

A sort of twisting feeling afflicted Dimentio's stomach. He recognized it as the feeling he got when he considered running away from his father or making himself known to other members of his father's tribe. A feeling of rebellion that was quickly followed by a list of consequences. And it was a feeling that, for the first time, he was giving into, under the authority of a man who was not his father.

He felt the pulsing heat of the woman's heartbeat before he even touched her skin. The blood magic he was most accustomed to required him to be able to sense the heartbeat within both himself and within others. In fact, if he wanted to, he could have administered the same spell that was inside the woman's bloodstream, furthering the affliction until it killed her.

Kill her. The voice that filled his head was his father's. This girl is a human. What business do you have saving her? The woman's blood pounded in his ears, and he felt the tip of his thumb pulsing and aching with the beginning of a spell.

"Dimentio?"

At the sound of his grandfather's voice, the young magician stumbled backward, letting the dark spell drip harmlessly from his fingers. He clutched his hand to his chest, his breathing quick and shallow.

"Dimentio? Is something the matter?" Merletoph turned to his grandson with concern in his eyes, a concern that increased exponentially once he noticed the darkness staining Dimentio's thumb and forefinger, the boy's own blood mixed with magic: an incomplete spell.

Dimentio studied the floor with wide eyes. "I-I…" he stuttered. There were no words he could say to describe what he was feeling. A mixture of fear, guilt, confusion, and through all of it the voice of his father telling him to finish the job.

"Perhaps I will teach you white magic later," Merletoph said. He did not raise his voice. He didn't even sound angry. But it did nothing to ease Dimentio's plethora of emotions. "For now, why don't you go sit in the living room? I will heal the girl's arm."

Dimentio had no intention of staying. It was nearing seven o'clock anyway, when he would have to return home to have his signature cloaked. It vaguely occurred to him that he'd not seen Timpani yet, and he'd promised to see her here, but he figured if she decided to come at all she would be able to see that her human friends made it safely. Without another glance at his grandfather, he teleported away, back to his place on the top of the tribe's castle.

"What?!"

The exclamation that came from Basile was more confused than angry. He looked down at his hand and then up at the young woman in front of him who was lying on the ground, unscathed. She was a pale human girl who didn't seem prepared for battle, but a human she still was, and so Basile had decided to put an end to her.

At least, he had tried.

He shot another projectile orb at her. She cowered behind her hands and drew her knees upward, curling into a ball. But once again the orb ricocheted off of her and fizzled to the ground, melting into a harmless puddle. The force of it caused the woman to slide back a few millimeters, but ultimately she was undamaged.

Basile now allowed anger to lace his tone. "You! You're a sage, aren't you?!" He strode forward with powerful steps and seized the girl by the arm before she could scramble away. "What are you doing on this world, you wretch?!"

Crystal blue eyes stared up at him with an overwhelming defiance. "I'm not a sage!" she barked, "let me go!"

"A foolish lie, girl. This is white magic protecting you!"

Struggling, she kicked out at his legs, falling silent for a moment. To Basile, it seemed as though she were thinking her words over carefully. A sign that she was trying to come up with a more convincing lie.

He gave her three seconds before he threw her to the ground and kicked her, watching with satisfaction as she rolled over the grass. As he stepped toward her again, a raindrop splattered onto his forehead, followed immediately by another that hit his hand. A light drizzle skipped onto the grass.

"Your white magic won't protect you from physical attacks," Basile grinned. As the woman struggled to her feet, he added, "Come now, sage. Why aren't you defending yourself?"

"I am not a sage!" she cried. "I haven't come to fight you!"

"Then why are you here?" Basile advanced as she backed away. "If you were a human, you would be armed with a weapon, and even then you would have come wishing to fight."

"I'm just looking for someone, please, leave me alone!"

"All of the humans who came have died, girl." By now, Basile had backed the woman up to the edge of the cliff. "And if it weren't for that blasted shield, you would be dead, too!"

Once again, a blue fire of determination lit her eyes. "I know he's alive! He has to be!"

Basile stopped dead in his tracks. He narrowed his cerulean eyes as he came to a sudden realization.

"You filthy wretch. You know my son, don't you?"

Blumiere and Aldrik teleported into the octagonal tower in the northeast corner of the castle, the location of the prince's bedroom. Blumiere collapsed onto his bed as soon as they arrived, wide-eyed.

"I need to speak with you urgently, Blumiere," Aldrik was saying. "Your father is going to come find us any minute. He knows our signatures have been cloaked, and he's grown suspicious—"

"They're all dead," Blumiere muttered, leaning forward slowly until his head rested in his hands. "I never wanted to kill them. But they're all dead now. Because of me."

Aldrik stared at him. "Blumiere, are you listening to me?"

"What if Timpani had been there? Oh, she probably knew some of them…"

"Blumiere!" Aldrik took hold of his nephew's arm and hauled him to his feet. Recoiling immediately, Blumiere cried out in pain and clutched at his left bicep. Blood was still seeping out of the blade wound he'd received before Aldrik had saved him.

"You're wounded?" Momentarily Aldrik examined the cut on the prince's arm. "Oh, Blumiere. You could have prevented this."

I deserve more than that. Blumiere bit back his reply. With a shake of his head, he tried to clear his thoughts, realizing that he wasn't doing anyone any good by feeling sorry for himself.

"I will have it fixed up later," the prince sighed, placing a hand over the wound. The pain had brought him back to reality. "Now, what was it you were saying, uncle?"

"Your father is going to need a reason as to why your signature is cloaked."

At these words, Blumiere suddenly recalled what his father had said earlier that morning, at the beginning of the battle: "And I will need a word with you, too, Blumiere. I'd like to have a talk with the both of you, actually."

His stomach churned. "I...I don't know what to tell him!" with exasperation he looked to Aldrik. "What are you going to tell him?"

"Do not worry about that, Blumiere. I have managed in the past."

Blumiere couldn't help but think about what his uncle meant by that, but decided he'd chalk it up to Aldrik's odd behavior as of late. Walking over to his window, Blumiere stared blankly at the glass. It was just starting to rain, and as he watched each drop hit the windowpane, Blumiere wracked his brain for a viable excuse—

"Mother!"

—and didn't have to search very far.

"I'll tell him I wanted to visit mother's grave." Half of him screamed that Basile would never buy it, but for now, it was the best idea he had.

Aldrik chuckled. "Ah, the same excuse you used on me after the first time you visited the humans. That should work. For now, anyway."

"What am I going to do, Aldrik?" Blumiere sighed. "Father's going to be keeping a closer eye on me than ever. There's no way I'll be able to see Timpani again…"

"Things will be difficult from here on out," Aldrik mumbled, and Blumiere noted it was mostly to himself. Louder, he continued, "At any rate, it may be a few months before you're on your father's good side again…"

"I can't wait that long to see her. Not after the damage I've caused…" Blumiere clenched his teeth. Mimi, at least, is in good hands with Merletoph, and Ronan is hopefully safe at home with his grandmother. But Timpani…

Aldrik hummed. "Well, it is about six-thirty now. You have until about eight-thirty, when your signature's spell will fade, to find her. That is, assuming your father doesn't come looking for you during that time."

It was a risk Blumiere was willing to take. Maybe he could arrange something with Timpani, or at least tell her that he wouldn't be able to see her for a while. And if his father went looking for him during that time, at least he could use the battle as an excuse for being out of his room. Besides, he couldn't imagine being in any more trouble than he already was.

Standing up, Blumiere managed a half-smile and met Aldrik's gaze. "Thank you, uncle. I will see you soon."

Once Blumiere had teleported away, Aldrik uttered a chuckle.

Narrowing her eyes to shield them from the raindrops, Timpani peered up at the dark mage in front of her. So this was Blumiere's father, then. She could see now why they didn't get along.

"I don't know any son of yours!" Timpani desperately threw out her response, unsure if it would help her or make things worse. All the while she kept backing away from the blue-faced man, aware that she was getting closer and closer to the cliff's edge. Her whole body ached from where he'd thrown her to the ground and kicked her, but it seemed as though the shield Merletoph gave her was slowly easing that pain. She reminded herself to express an abundance of thanks to the sage.

"You're the reason he's been sneaking off into town!"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Timpani stopped centimeters away from the cliff, trembling. The rain was starting to soak through her dress.

"You have no other reason to be here. All of the humans are dead. And the only other being you would be trying to find…"

With a mighty step forward, Basile placed both hands around Timpani's neck, hauling her backward until only her toes were still on the edge of the rocky cliff.

"...is Blumiere."

Timpani choked out a gasp, arching her back in a desperate struggle to keep herself standing. She felt the hands around her neck tighten in an attempt to suffocate her further, but somehow her airway remained open enough to allow her to breathe shallowly. Realizing he wasn't doing enough damage to kill her, Basile roared furiously, and a burning sensation fizzled at the back and front of Timpani's throat. She felt some sort of liquid stream down her skin.

"You are nothing more than a filthy human, aren't you!? Were you trying to seduce him? Did you hope to kill him once you were finished with him?!"

Tears leaked out of Timpani's eyes as she thrashed around, clawing at the mage's blue hands with her own. What a twisted view you have! She wanted to scream at him. I would never do anything like that to Blumiere! But in her current situation, she could manage nothing more than a hoarse gasp. She needed all of her energy to breathe.

"You're lucky I can't kill you right now, vermin. But I promise you, if I ever see your wretched face again, I will see to it that you receive an agony far worse than death."

With those haunting final words, Basile kicked Timpani's legs out from under her, sending her toppling over the edge of the cliff.

"Were you looking for me, brother?"

With black hair slicked by the drizzling rain and a devilish grin on his lips, Aldrik watched as his elder brother turned away from the cliff, surprise evident in his cerulean eyes.

"Aldrik! Where have you been all afternoon?"

The stern tone of the king only made Aldrik's grin widen. "Are you curious about the absence of my signature?"

"Why, yes, as a matter of fact, I am." Basile narrowed his eyes and took a few steps toward the younger mage. "I would like to believe you've had some involvement in Blumiere's disappearances, as well."

A cold laugh filled the air. "How dreadful! Could it be that it was I who urged him to leave in the first place?"

"What are you saying!?" Basile's slow-burning anger was more noticeable in his expression than in his tone.

"Oh, and perhaps I sent him out in hopes that the humans would find him and kill him."

Deadly silence followed. Basile locked eyes with his brother; a spell already prepared in his fingertips. "You what?!"

"Well, I suppose I can't take credit for all of it. It wasn't entirely my idea."

Aldrik advanced on his older brother, who immediately expelled the dark magic he'd prepared. The spell bounced off of Aldrik, revealing a rippling magic shield. Eyes bulging, Basile took a hesitant step backward.

"I have a secret to tell you, brother," Aldrik went on. "You see, I don't take direct orders from you unless I want to. Do you know why?" He stepped closer and closer. "Because you are not my king, brother. There is only one being who I will submit to."

With a cry of utter rage and exasperation, Basile lunged forward, grappling Aldrik. With a physical strength that the younger mage couldn't match, Basile grabbed his brother's arm and twisted it around behind his back, holding it in such a way that he wouldn't be able to create a spell. Before he could secure the other hand, Aldrik uttered another chilling laugh.

"You know what I refer to, don't you, brother? The Dark Prognosticus, of course."

Basile faltered for just a moment, but that small amount of time was just enough for Aldrik to make his move. He made contact with his brother's hand and administered a freezing spell more powerful than anything Basile was capable of. Wrenching himself free, Aldrik turned around to look at the king, who was now frozen helplessly in place.

"Ironic, isn't it?" Aldrik quipped, a smirk playing on his lips. "Your whole life you deemed yourself a king, the one who would pass on the knowledge and magical powers of this tribe to the next generation. But you were also a tragic second prince, forced to take the crown after our dear brother died. You tried so hard to call out to the Dark Prognosticus, but it would not call back. You thought yourself a failure. But really, all along, it was because it had found a more suitable host. And yet you remained as our king! Aha ha. Simply ironic. Now, tell me brother, are you surprised?"

Basile's blue eyes glared daggers at Aldrik's calm, red gaze.

"Of course you are. You always are." Reaching the next part of his monologue, Aldrik began pacing back and forth dramatically. "I have another secret to tell you, brother! Would you believe it if I told you that this isn't the first time we've had this conversation? It isn't! And it isn't the second, or the third, I'm afraid. Oh no, my dear brother, we've had this conversation countless times before! And it always ends the same way. With me, one step closer to reaching my goal, and with you, going back to being blissfully oblivious. Indeed, my dear brother, once I'm finished, you won't remember a word of this conversation! And you'll forget about my absent soul signature as well. Sure, I could have taken that memory from you without going through the trouble of telling you all this, but… well, this was much more fun, wouldn't you say?"

"Damn...you…" Basile growled with as much force as he could manage.

Aldrik laughed softly, almost sympathetically. "I'm already far more than damned, dear brother." And with that, he placed both of his thumbs over Basile's temples. "Aha ha. Don't worry. This will hurt, but you won't remember a thing."

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Remember

Episode Six: The Gateway

Chapter One

Sweat-slicked hair was swept out of tortured red eyes that glowed in the pressing darkness of the bedroom. Too afraid to wake the newly-appointed king, he scarcely drew breath as he hovered by the man's side.

His hands, clenched into fists at his sides, were trembling, seconds away from striking out and thrashing his brother awake. But he waited, mulling over what to say when the king awoke.

"Aldrik?" Hearing his name spoken so clearly in the thick blackness startled him; his quaking hands jolted into a defensive position. Instinctively he squeezed his eyes shut, hiding the crimson light.

"What are you doing here?" King Basile's voice was tight with a weary irritation. Aldrik felt a pang of guilt; he knew the king was struggling to get enough sleep. With the recent battles between the Tribe and the humans, none of them were getting the proper amount of rest. Nonetheless, there was something that needed to be said, and now was one of the few times that they could be truly alone.

"I...need to speak with you, brother."

"Now, Aldrik? It cannot wait until—?"

"Have you felt it yet, Basile? The Dark Prognosticus' pull?"

"What…" Fabric rustled as Basile sat up. "You wake me up in the middle of the night to torture me with questions you know the answers to?"

Aldrik's breath caught in his throat. Never before had his brother answered this question so forcefully.

"It's taunting me." Basile's voice was quieter now, shaking with emotion. "I can feel the darkness, but it is just beyond my grasp. Even now, even as the Tribe's King, it...refuses me."

Aldrik gritted his teeth as he tried to block out his brother's confessions, willing that he not be affected and lose his resolve.

"Our family sees nothing but a weak man who cannot protect his own people from human assaults… Our grandmother died because I did not have the power to stop them!"

"But I do, brother! I have that power! I could save us from these attacks!" His eyes flew open, revealing the blood-red eyes of a wielder. "Look, brother! The Prognosticus choose me!"

"What…?"

"Give me the throne, brother. Please. I can save our Tribe. The Prognosticus has been training me since birth for this moment. I am powerful enough to obliterate all of the humans who have wronged us!"

"You mean… all this time… every day I spent toiling away in darkness, years of effort I put into getting stronger and you wait until now to tell me? You watched me struggle for the entirety of my life and said nothing?!"

Aldrik wanted to tell Basile about the many times they'd had this conversation, and how every single time, no matter how old they were, he'd faced rejection at the hands of his older brother. "It was for this very reason that I didn't, Basile! I knew you'd be upset, so I thought I could hide it. But the Tribe needs the help of the Dark Prognosticus, or we are all going to die!"

"No! I will protect them myself! It is my duty as King!"

"But you've already failed, brother. You said it yourself. Our grandmother's death was your own fault. You could not stop the humans who killed her."

"I will not allow any more casualties! I do not need your help!" Basile's words were wrenched out through clenched teeth.

"Stubborn fool!" Aldrik gasped. "You are condemning us to death!"

"You dare call your king a fool?!"

"You are not my king, brother," Aldrik said, his tone firm. His red eyes glowed brighter as he took a few steps in his brother's direction.

"I have worked harder for this throne than any wielder has! You ought to bow before me!"

"You must give that title to its rightful owner, Basile."

"You could never be king, Aldrik! You've lived your life as a servant. Even if you were to gain such power, you have no heir! The Tribe would start to dwindle within a generation!"

That was indeed something Aldrik had pondered. "Perhaps Lucienne or Anastaise—"

"How dare you?!" Basile lunged for his brother. "I'll kill you! Then the Dark Prognosticus will have no choice but to call to me!"

The scuffle was over before it had a chance to begin. Aldrik was already standing, putting him at an advantage, and as his older brother flew at him, he dodged to one side and caught Basile's arm. In an instant, he was frozen, the result of a contact spell from Aldrik. The younger brother placed his thumbs over the king's temples.

"I really wish you would see things my way, Basile," Aldrik muttered. "Someday I will take the throne from you. Until then, I will allow you to go on thinking you are fit to be king."

A furious growl was all Basile could manage in reply.

"Goodnight, brother. Perhaps things will be different… next time."

Dimentio had always wondered what it might feel like to take a bath. He closed his eyes, feeling every muscle in his body relax as it was wrapped in the warm blanket of water. He wished he could relish this experience, but he knew Merletoph was waiting for him to finish so they could talk about his mother. That alone was motivation for him to get out as soon as possible, but for a moment longer he wanted to enjoy laying in the hot water.

His wrist was still sore and his head ached, but for the most part, the pain was fading. He could feel his father's soul signature tugging at the corner of his mind, and while he was relieved he'd regained his ability to sense it, it was not a comforting presence. Closer was the sunny signature of Merletoph. It felt unlike any soul signature he'd ever come into contact with; he assumed that was because Merletoph was a sage. Sages must have different soul signatures, he concluded. Still unsolved was the mystery of why he was able to sense it now when he hadn't been able to before.

Dimentio sat up, immediately shivering as the cold air greeted his skin. He exited the tub and grabbed the towel Merletoph left him, using it like a blanket to shield himself from the coolness of the bathroom.

There was a tall mirror on one wall that he'd avoided on his way in. He had his back to it now. Throwing the towel over his head like a hood, he peeked backward, and for the first time, looked into his own eyes.

...woah.

He approached the reflective glass, entranced by what he saw. His right eye was as deep blue as the night sky, pulsating and glowing in a way that resembled the eyes of his father. The left eye, a stunning yellow that glittered with golds and ivories, was an exact copy of Merletoph's, and likely his mother's eyes. He covered the dark eye with his hand and wondered if, with his hair this long, he really did look like his mother.

His shoulder-length, brown hair was still dripping with water from the bath, so he rubbed it with the towel a bit more. It then occurred to him that he had no idea how to style it, for he'd had no need to before. It fell into his face every time he moved his head, no matter how many times he tucked it behind his ears. Frustrated, he decided to wait until it was dry, and put on the clean clothes Merletoph had provided him.

It was a little small on him, but he managed to squeeze into a pale yellow shirt. It was wider at the bottom and reached just above his knees, similar to the poncho he usually wore, so he felt comfortable, despite the tight sleeves. The gray pants were bigger and easier to fit into, but not nearly as soft.

Tucking his unruly hair behind his ear one last time, he picked up the towel and his old clothes and prepared to exit the bathroom.

When he opened the door, however, he was unable to leave. Standing right in the doorway was the little green girl from earlier, hands on her hips and a pout on her face. Before he could say anything to her, she exclaimed, "You sure took a long time! I—hey!" Her eyes widened and she barged into the room, stepping closer to him. "Why are you wearing my dress?!"

Dimentio floated up and away from her so he was above her head, nearly brushing the ceiling with his wet hair.

"I am not," he said, staring right into her furious red eyes. A slight blush rose to his cheeks as he realized she could see his entire face. He broke his gaze away from hers.

"Hey, you're flying, too!" The girl drew closer. Dimentio's shoulders pressed against the ceiling. "Come back down here and give me my dress back!"

"Oh, this?" Dimentio gestured to the yellow fabric he was wearing as a shirt. "It didn't even occur to me that this might be a dress. It's far too ugly."

The green-skinned girl deflated, her shoulders drooping. "Ugly…?" She squeaked, tilting her head to the side. Then, anger consumed the timidity in her voice, and she tilted her head to the other side with a sharp snap. "Ugly?!"

He didn't entirely understand why his statement had caused such a reaction from her—he'd only been telling the truth—but, remembering that this was the same girl who had turned into a monstrosity at the festival last night, Dimentio decided it would be best not to irritate her further. "I'm...only saying you deserve to...to wear much better," he fumbled for something to say that would calm her down.

"Mimi?"

Both magician and miracle ceased their conversation and turned to the door of the bathroom. There stood Merletoph, arms crossed, concern flashing in his yellow eyes.

"Are you bothering our guest?"

Indignant, Mimi frowned and pointed at Dimentio. "He stole my dress and called it ugly! He deserves to be bothered!"

Merletoph took a step into the bathroom and knelt down, motioning for Mimi to come closer to him. She obeyed, albeit reluctantly. Dimentio watched them with curious eyes.

"My dear, I gave Dimentio your dress to wear because he has no other clean clothes. And no one deserves to be bothered, no matter how mean they are to you. Remember what we talked about?" His amber eyes prompted her to tell him.

The green-skinned girl hummed as she tried to recall the exact words. "Be kind to everyone, because kindness means friendship?"

Merletoph smiled. "Kindness yields the sweetness of friendship. And anger yields…?"

"Only what is bitter," Mimi stood up straight as she remembered.

"Exactly. So what do you think you should do now?"

"Three things?"

"Three things," the sage nodded.

Mimi appeared as though she were about to pout, but then thought better of it as she turned to Dimentio with a smile on her face.

"I think it's really cool that you can fly," she said, "and… your hair would look nice if you brushed it."

"Mimi," Merletoph chided.

"Sorry," she muttered, sagging her shoulders. "Okay, one more thing… Uhm… I guess my dress does look okay on you."

A bemused expression settled on Merletoph's face as he patted Mimi on the back. "Good. Now, Dimentio, why don't you try and say something nice to Mimi?"

Dimentio stared at him. "Something nice?"

"Yeah!" Mimi chimed in, "It's Papa's 'Three Things' rule! If you say something mean to someone you have to tell them three nice things to make up for it."

Did I say something mean? Was calling her dress ugly considered a mean thing to say? That must have been what she was referring to, he decided. I was telling her the truth. It really is an ugly dress. It then occurred to Dimentio that his view of what was right and wrong might be vastly different from the right and wrong Mimi and Merletoph knew. How do I know I'm not doing something wrong right now?

His feet touched the ground, and he met Merletoph's expectant gaze. The sage was waiting for him to say something.

"You…" He furrowed his brow. Why is this so hard? Suddenly self-conscious, he longed for the protection of his mask. "You...you're made of magic, which is...strange, but not bad."

Merletoph gave him a half-smile. "Alright. That's a good start, Dimentio. We can work on that later." He stood.

"Wait, but that's only one thing!" Mimi interjected. "He still needs to say two more!"

Dimentio watched with glazed eyes as Merletoph guided Mimi out of the bathroom and whispered something to her privately. He was still straining to think of something nice, something that he knew for sure was nice to say to another person. She said something about my hair. But...what if I don't like her hair? Why would I lie about something just for the sake of it being 'nice'? He narrowed his eyes as he continued to ponder the subject. Does Mimi actually like my hair? Did she actually mean any of the things she said to me, or was she saying them only because she had to?

"Dimentio?" He looked up into Merletoph's yellow eyes.

"Yes?"

"Come, let's get you something to eat. Then, we can talk about your mother."

Soaked from the rain and still caked with mud, Blumiere sat on top of the blankets on his bed, leaning against the magically-crafted obsidian headboard. His gaze was fixed on the wall opposite him, glazed and vacant. He was aware of his father's presence; he could feel his piercing stare as it traveled over him, judging or perhaps mocking him, but he did not care to acknowledge him.

"You needn't try to make excuses for yourself anymore."

Basile's voice shattered the silence like a rock crashing through a window, tumbling, then landing in an empty, unattended room.

"I know exactly why you were sneaking out, and why you were cloaking your soul signature." He hurled another stone. "I am more than disappointed in you, Blumiere."

The prince of darkness moved not an inch, persistent in his vigil.

Basile picked up a boulder. "The filthy human woman you loved is dead! I killed her!"

The wall holding back Blumiere's emotions crumbled. Tears sprang from his eyes and tumbled down his cheeks, leaving a clean streak through the dirt. His lips trembled as he swallowed back the sobs that quivered in his throat.

He knew Timpani was still alive. He knew she would be safe, far away from him. But with that knowledge came the understanding that he would never see her again. That she didn't want to see him again. And that, possibly, was worse than her being dead.

"You shed tears for one human but care not for the countless others that lay dead on the grass outside our door?"

"Le…"

"For the humans that you killed?"

"Leave…"

"Pathetic."

"Leave me be! Let me be alone!" Furious cerulean eyes wet with tears latched onto Basile. The king's own eyes widened, as if he didn't expect such defiance from his own son. Then his expression hardened.

"Very well. Rot in here for all I care." He left without another word.

Blumiere's sorrow-filled gaze returned to the wall. He sat still until his tears dried, and his mind and body numbed.

The rain had begun to fall again, striking through Timpani's already soaked dress like tiny balls of hail. As she stumbled out of the crowded trees and onto the cobblestone road, she doubled over, trying to catch her breath, but every time she inhaled, another sob coughed its way out of her throat.

Fear forced her to keep going. She was still too close to the castle here, still in danger of being spotted by one of the mages who lived inside of it. She didn't know if Blumiere was able to see her from where he was, but she didn't want to take any chances. Stumbling down the vacant street, she was suddenly terrified at the thought of being alone. There was no one outside, which was unusual, even in the rain. She pictured the townsfolk, usually out trying to sell their wares or share stories with friends, and imagined they were huddled away in their houses, as horrified of the mages as she was.

The sound of the rain drumming on the road covered up her footsteps. She trudged onward as through a town of ghosts, her cries of pain and grief swept away by the wind, heard by no one.

She passed through the town square and turned right down a narrow street lined with houses. Four houses down was the one she was looking for.

One… She counted the houses as she passed them, trying to give her mind something to do other than worry. Two… Three… Four…

She burst through the door and closed it tightly behind her. Collapsing against the wall, she gulped in breaths, trying to calm herself down. She was safe now.

"Timpani?" She recognized her aunt's voice. "Oh! Oh my goodness, what happened to you?!" Warm hands supported her and helped her walk over to a couch, where she crumpled into a heap, soaked with rainwater. A second voice called to her.

"Timpani! We haven't seen you in days, where have you been?" Her uncle stepped closer to her. "Are you hurt? Were you involved in the battle?"

She turned her crystal blue eyes to her aunt, and then to her uncle. "I…" But as soon as she tried to speak, the only thing that could come out of her mouth was a cough, and then she was sobbing again. A gasp came from her aunt's mouth, and then arms wrapped around her shoulders.

"Oh, you poor child, you're soaking wet. Emmak, get her a towel, would you?" He nodded and left, returning a moment later with a gray towel. He handed it to Timpani, and she wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Tha-ank you," she sputtered, still struggling to catch her breath. Emmak put a hand on her head, brushing her matted hair behind her ears.

"Tell us what happened to you," her aunt's words were gentle, but her statement felt as heavy as a stone to Timpani. What had happened? Where was she supposed to begin?

When did this all start? When I met Blumiere? Was it before that? How long has it been since I've started seeing Mimi around? How long has Merletoph passed me on the streets without me even knowing?

"Rebecca, maybe we oughtn't to—not now, anyway," Emmak seemed to recognize the conflict in his niece's expression.

Suddenly, Timpani stood up. "I have to go," she said, wrapping the towel tightly around herself. "I-I have to, one of my-my friends, he's in danger."

"Where? Let me go with you," Emmak offered.

"No!" Timpani backed away, heading for the door. "No, thank you, b-but I have to go a-alone."

"Timpani!"
"Are you sure?"

"Trust me! I-I need you to stay here, please, I-I'll be back soon, I promise."

Emmak and Rebecca exchanged a glance. "If you must…" Emmak said, worry creasing his brow. "But please, Timpani, be careful."

She opened the door to the pouring rain, taking the towel with her. "Don't follow me," she called behind her as she stepped outside, "please."

Ignoring the protests of her aching limbs, Timpani began to run back the way she came, heading for the forest on the other side of town. She focused all of her thoughts on Ronan, refusing to allow herself to think of anything else.

I left him in the hands of that boy. He said he took them to Merletoph, but what if Merletoph couldn't help him? Oh, please, let him be alright!

She sent several more prayers to the stars, and among them, her heart prayed that Blumiere would be alright, too.

"Why don't you tell me everything you remember about your mother?"

Dimentio chewed the piece of buttered bread Merletoph had given him, a contemplative look on his face. So far, everything I thought I knew about my mother has been wrong, he realized. I don't...even know what her soul signature feels like. "She left," he shrugged. "Right after I was born. I...guess I don't know why anymore."

"Is that all? Your father never talked about her?"

Dimentio forced himself to grin. Only that it was my fault she left. She couldn't bear to be around the other humans after having borne me. That she was terrified of me. "Aha ha. I guess not." Then he turned away from Merletoph. "That's why I came here. I was hoping you knew more about her."

"I apologize, my boy. I assumed you had been told about your mother."

"...Have you met my father?"

"Sha'i never introduced me to him, no."

"Good."

Merletoph cocked his head, leaning in toward his grandson. "Now, why is that, Dimentio?"

"My father is…" Dimentio hummed, trying to put his thoughts into words. "My father is not...nice. Not by your standards, anyway." Not once had his father said anything nice to him, not even a lie that was meant to sound nice just to make someone else think he was being nice. He only said what was necessary, which, by Dimentio's standards, was all that needed to be said. But was he nice to mother? Or did he treat her like he treats me? For the first time, he found himself worrying about his parents' relationship.

Merletoph seemed equally as worried. His brow creased as he said, "Sha'i was so in love with him. It wasn't long before she convinced me she was going to move away with him. I...I should never have allowed it, but I just wanted her to be happy."

Dimentio was again awed by how different Merletoph's way of life was. He let his daughter leave him, simply for her happiness' sake? There were no rules she had to abide by that would tie her to her home? Perhaps there were, and she convinced Merletoph to let her break them.

"I didn't see her again for about a year, but I could always feel that her signature was close by. That was enough to give me comfort. Then, she showed up again one day, and told me she and Aldrik were leaving this world altogether."

"But he never left," Dimentio muttered.

"I wonder why," Merletoph ran a hand through his stringy white hair, yellow eyes fixated on something in the distance. "He didn't tell you?"

"He never mentioned having any plans to leave with her. He told me she left on her own. Because she was…"

"Your mother was not afraid of you," Merletoph's gentle voice floated over Dimentio's. "I'm nearly certain of it. Look at everything she did to protect you."

Dimentio put his hands behind his back, instinctively rubbing the damaged skin on his wrist.

"When Sha'i came to me that night, right before she left, she told me it wasn't safe for her to stay here anymore. I had always assumed it was because she sought a place where she and Aldrik could be safe together, but if he never intended to go with her, it must have been your safety she was worried about."

"But she didn't take me, either," Dimentio exhaled and put a hand to his bare cheek, momentarily marveling at how smooth his skin was.

"That does worry me," Merletoph admitted. "The closer we get to the truth, the more convinced I am that your mother did not intend to leave alone. The problem is, I have no clue what would have prompted her to do so."

Once again, Dimentio felt uneasy as he pictured his parents' relationship. Had his father been the one to force his mother to leave by herself? "You mentioned you could still feel her signature," he said. "Can't you teleport to her? Are members of the Tribe of Ancients able to use soul tracking?" Soul tracking was a skill he'd learned almost as soon as he'd mastered teleportation. It allowed him to move to the exact location of his father's signature even if he couldn't picture the room he was in. If only I knew mother's signature. I would go find her right now.

"Soul tracking between worlds or dimensions is dangerous and usually inaccurate unless you are extremely skilled with magic." Merletoph frowned. "And besides, even if I were to do it, I can no longer pinpoint Sha'i's signature. I can feel her moving, as if she is still traveling between dimensions, but nothing more."

"And that's why you think she found The Gateway?"

"I'm certain of it. There's no other way she could have left this dimension on her own."

Dimentio narrowed his eyes. He really didn't want to bring up this point if he didn't have to, but it was the only valuable information he had left to offer. "What if… well…" he cleared his throat and tried again, embarrassed by his lack of eloquence. "Er...what do you know about the Dark Prognosticus?"

Merletoph's expression hardened, and his golden eyes dimmed to amber as he tilted his head forward. "I know more about that despicable book than I ever wanted to."

Recalling Merletoph's story that he'd eavesdropped on, Dimentio realized he must be referring to the time he spent with his brother, Merlumio, the first true wielder of the Dark Prognosticus. "Do you know if the Dark Prognosticus might be able to give someone the power to send another person away?" He spoke with a tentative slowness, knowing Merletoph would assume the worst. Unfortunately, in this case, the worst was also the truth.

Dimentio was met with a fearful gaze. "Why...do you ask?" Merletoph's voice shook.

"I...I've never known for sure, but…" the magician trailed off, wondering again if he should be truthful, or if telling the truth would be a bad thing right now. Would lying or not telling Merletoph his suspicions be the 'nice' thing to do in this situation? How was he ever supposed to tell? I can't keep guessing. I will leave it up to Merletoph to tell me if I've done something wrong. With his decision made, Dimentio continued, "I have reason to believe that my father is the wielder of the Dark Prognosticus." He smiled and then, thinking that might be inappropriate, leveled his expression and turned his head away from his grandfather.

Merletoph was silent for what seemed to be several minutes. Dimentio swallowed. Had he done something wrong? But at last, the old sage spoke. "The Dark Prognosticus has the power to separate an entire race of people and scatter them across the dimensions. I don't doubt that it could send one woman to wander through the Gateway for eternity…"

Dimentio straightened, returning his gaze to Merletoph. "Do you really think that's what happened? Did father… Did he send her away?"

"It is… likely, considering what we both know as fact."

"...why?" He knew his grandfather didn't have an answer, but at the moment that was the only word that surfaced in Dimentio's mind.

The wooden chair Merletoph was sitting in creaked as he stood. "I am just as troubled as you are, my grandson. But," his aged voice hardened with determination, "I do know one thing: we must find your mother. And to do that, we must first find this world's Dimensional Gateway."

"Dimensional Gateway?"

Both Merletoph and Dimentio were startled by the new voice that entered the conversation. In the doorway to the living room, the wounded redhead was wrapped up in a blanket, leaning against the wall. A determined smile brightened her face.

"I believe I know what yeh're talkin' about."

"You do?" Dimentio leaned forward, not entirely sure the woman knew what she was talking about.

"Of course! Ronan and 'is Nanna and I 'ad to get 'ere somehow, seein' as we couldn't use your fancy teleportation to escape the war on our 'omeworld. We came in through a world full o' doors, and our lucky pick landed us 'ere."

Merletoph stood and approached the woman, a warm smile thanking her before he said a word. "My dear. First, tell me your name."

"Kathleen."

"Kathleen," Merletoph said as he put a hand on her elbow to steady her. "Can you show us where the Dimensional Gateway is?"

She nodded. "'Course I can. But I'm warnin' yeh now: it's a long trek."

"Thank you, Kathleen." Merletoph began to guide her back toward the bedroom. "I am so glad you are healing, but you need to rest, especially if you are to guide us to the gateway."

Dimentio watched them go, surprised at how lucky they were that someone knew the way to the Dimensional Gateway. It was nice of Kathleen, he mused, to so willingly help someone she didn't even know. Then again, Merletoph had helped her first, which was nice of him.

...perhaps Kathleen is only being nice because Merletoph was nice.

"We have our plan then, Dimentio!" Merletoph's jovial voice reached him, clearing away his musings.

"We do?"

"Yes! We will leave for the gateway as soon as Kathleen is feeling completely rested!"

"We're leaving?" Dimentio knew this was the conclusion Merletoph was coming to; he'd known it all along. He knew the only way to find his mother was to chase after her himself, but… Leaving… leaving father without telling him… There's no telling what he might do if I leave.

Sturdy hands rested on his shoulders, squeezing gently and offering him warmth and comfort. "You must go back to your father," Merletoph said, his voice firm. "He mustn't know what we're planning. Come back here in three days, early in the morning, so we have as much time as possible before your signature uncloaks. If we can escape before then, your father will never be able to distinguish your soul signature from the millions of others that exist in the Gateway. Do you understand?"

Dimentio nodded, trying very hard to ignore the pounding of his heart in his chest. "I understand. I'll see you in three days."

Chapter Text

Remember

Episode Six: The Gateway

Chapter Two

The afternoon sun poured golden rays of light onto the floor of Blumiere's room, bringing about a soft glow to every piece of furniture. Dark blue skin smeared with dirt was highlighted by the gentle light, a serene reminder that this perfectly still scene was part of a very real, living tragedy. Dimentio observed quietly from one corner of the room, hiding his presence with his cloak of invisibility, and his emotions with his two-toned mask.

He'd been waiting for nearly ten minutes now, and Blumiere still had not moved an inch, save for the occasional shiver. Dimentio could tell by the wounded look on his face that something terrible had happened, but what? Was he pouting over the fact that he was still locked up in his room?

Without a sound he moved a bit closer, trying to examine his cousin's face more clearly. There was something about the way his eyes glittered...something he couldn't quite place. For some reason, it reminded him of his father.

Which brought him to the reason why he was here.

In three days, Dimentio, along with Merletoph and probably Mimi, were going to find this world's Dimensional Gateway and use it to enter the Gateway, which, from Dimentio's limited knowledge of the place, meant that they would be traveling through a dimension that connected all other dimensions through their Dimensional Gateways. Essentially, they would be picking a random door and seeing which world it spat them out on. Furthermore, it meant it wasn't likely they would ever return to this world again. Which meant he'd never see his father again.

Considering how his father had acted towards him for the entirety of his life, Dimentio should have been feeling more joy than anything at this opportunity. But there was an uneasy feeling twisting around in his stomach, something that told him leaving his father was a terrible idea. Especially if he is the wielder of the Dark Prognosticus. He may have the ability to find us in an instant, no matter where we are. Not only would leaving make his father do something potentially dangerous, but Dimentio was beginning to worry that leaving Blumiere here alone wasn't a good idea either.

He'd been pondering his father's relationship with his cousin ever since he'd guessed that his father was trying to kill him. His father had denied it, sure, but Dimentio now knew that his father was very good at telling lies. Up until yesterday, Dimentio had always been told that his mother, a human, had left after nurturing him because she couldn't bear the sight of a non-human child—a monstrosity. So Dimentio had spent his days spying on the human townsfolk, studying them, wondering which one could be his mother.

His father had lied about the very same thing to Blumiere when he asked him to go search for Sha'i. What was the point of that if not to put his nephew in danger? Why purposefully go behind Basile's back and help the king's son escape if he didn't have some higher agenda?

Dimentio could only come to one conclusion: it had something to do with the Dark Prognosticus. Which meant that his father must be the wielder and that everyone in the castle, and in the town, and possibly in the entire world, was in danger.

He had to tell Blumiere. He was the only tribe member besides his father who knew he existed, and probably the only one willing to help. But...here he was, sulking. Dimentio's heart pounded as he drew nearer still, not wishing to alarm his cousin, but also not wanting to speak out loud and risk revealing his presence to anyone outside.

He placed his invisible palm on the corner of the bed, pressing down until it made a sizable imprint. Blumiere either didn't notice or didn't care, so Dimentio hovered above the same spot and allowed himself to drop down, bouncing up and down on the corner of the bed. Blumiere's dulled eyes stared right through him for a moment, but then, as he realized what was happening, he uttered a gasp and shrunk back. The invisibility shimmered away as soon as Blumiere opened his mouth, revealing a bouncing Dimentio with a gloved finger held to the mouth of his mask. He'd changed back into his normal attire before leaving Merletoph's, and though the outfit made him feel more secure and guarded, a part of him missed the feeling of his hair touching his face. At the crest of a jump, he stuck in the air, floating a little closer to Blumiere.

Dimentio began moving his hands about, signing a warning to his cousin. "You need to be careful. It is dangerous for you to stay here."

He was met with a blank stare.

Rolling his eyes, Dimentio tried again, this time going much slower and exaggerating his movements.

Blumiere raised an eyebrow, and uttered a faint, "What?"

"Do you know how to sign?"

"..."

Dimentio narrowed his eyes behind his mask. So his cousin didn't know signs. Is that… Did father just make that up for me? Dimentio mentally shrugged, assuming at the very least that Blumiere was just uneducated.

The sapphire-skinned prince shifted in his bed, leaning closer to Dimentio. A whispered question floated out of his mouth. "Do you know how to write?"

Nodding his head, Dimentio couldn't help but roll his eyes again. Of course I know how to write.

Still cautious, Blumiere slid off of his bed and stepped toward a large desk not far from his bed. He opened one of the drawers and produced a piece of neat parchment and an ink pen. Handing them to Dimentio, Blumiere then returned to his bed.

Dimentio spun the pen in his hand, examining it momentarily before he pressed it to the parchment. He recognized it as a blood pen, one that, instead of using ink, marked with the magical orb from a mage's spell. That meant it didn't require an ink well to use. That also meant Dimentio would be writing with Blumiere's own blood.

The ink, a dark, black-purple color, flowed smoothly out of the pen as Dimentio wrote. Blumiere waited patiently as the nib scratched away at the parchment until the magician hovering above him finally turned it around.

In curving, slanted letters, the parchment read, "I am leaving this world in three days with Merletoph. It is too dangerous to stay here any longer. You are not safe here. My father has been trying to kill you. He has the Dark Prognosticus."

Blumiere stared at the overwhelming bits of information Dimentio had written. His blue skin paled as he re-read it, turning his gaze to Dimentio in disbelief. He opened his mouth to speak, but Dimentio held the pen and parchment out to him before he could say anything. With a dry swallow, Blumiere took them and scrawled out a quick, jagged-lettered reply.

"How are you leaving and why is Aldrik trying to kill me?"

Dimentio retrieved the utensil and stationary. "We are going to the Gateway. We have someone who knows how to get there. I can explain everything else later." After a few heartbeats of hesitation, Dimentio continued. "Come with us. I will help you escape."

"Merletoph!" The name exited Timpani's mouth for the umpteenth time as the drenched woman trudged and stumbled her way through the woods on the western side of town, searching for the old sage's house. She hadn't gone far before realizing she wouldn't even be able to see his house if she came to it, because of its magical cloak, so she'd done her best to follow the trail Merletoph had led her and Blumiere down...last night? Was it really only last night that all of this happened?

Exhaustion had long since begun to affect her eyesight, but now, as she wandered through unfamiliar territory, it was everything she could do to keep her eyes open. Shivering, she pulled the towel around her shoulders closer to her body, though that, too, was soaked.

"Merletoph!" Please hear me. Timpani prayed to her stars again, wondering if they were listening.

A familiar-looking tree caught her eye, so she wobbled over to it. Upon further inspection, it looked like it may have been one she passed last night, but all of the trees were beginning to look the same. Still, it was the only lead she had, so she looked around for anything else that might be familiar. A trampled flower looked suspicious, so she ambled towards it, not considering that she might have just trampled it herself. On the way over, her feet got tangled either with some grass or with each other, and she tumbled, crashing to the ground.

Shadowy claws of sleep crept up from the ground and tried to pull her into the world of the unconscious. Were it not for the chill that grasped her bones, she would have been perfectly content to sleep on the grass. Instead, she curled into herself, too tired to get back up, too tired to cry.

She had just closed her eyes when a sudden spot of warmth spread through her chest as if the sun had finally graced her with a few of its rays. She curled in tighter, relishing it. But the warmth wouldn't stay still enough to comfort her. It bobbed around inside her chest like an apple in a barrel full of water, constantly moving. Timpani focused on the warmth, now convinced that it was not from the sun, and when she did, she was aware that the warmth had a direction to it. It was subtle, but it was almost as if it had a tail attached to it, pulling her deeper into the woods. Startled by this, she sprang up into a sitting position, clutching her head as her vision blurred momentarily. As soon as she stopped thinking about it, the warmth faded back into a bobbing shape inside of her and was fading faster every second.

"Wait," she called into the empty forest, "come back!" The fluttering warmth returned, and this time, Timpani was aware of a peculiar feeling nestled in the back of her mind, almost as if she could feel someone nearby. She glanced behind her, expecting to find a person watching her, but only trees crowded her vision. The warmth's 'tail' was pointing in the opposite direction. Pushing herself to a standing position, Timpani began to follow it, this time more careful on her feet.

It must be Merletoph, she thought, It has to be. This must be his...his soul, or whatever he called it. A smile crossed her face. She didn't dare wonder how it had happened, and instead, let herself be filled with gratitude. The stars had answered her prayers.

It wasn't long before she was able to recognize a path Merletoph had taken before. She emerged from the trees into a small clearing, and instantly she knew she was in the right place. Merletoph's house was right in front of her, invisible to the human eye. She called the sage's name again, reaching her hands out to try and feel the wall of the house.

"Timpani?" The opening of a door split the air, and suddenly the entire house phased into view. Merletoph's head peeked out of the entrance. The warmth flared inside Timpani's chest as she looked at him, and then faded away until she couldn't feel it anymore.

A laugh quickly turned into sobs as Timpani stumbled toward him. "I found you!"

"Gracious stars," Merletoph uttered, guiding her inside. "Come, sit. Tell me you're not wounded."

"I'm okay," Timpani assured him, sinking into the couch. "Your shield protected me. Th-thank you."

Merletoph began to examine her anyway, inspecting her with concerned yellow eyes. "You do appear uninjured."

"Where is Ronan? I...I asked a boy to bring him here, but...I couldn't…"

"Ronan is fine," Merletoph said. "And the woman with him, Kathleen, is healing, too. They should be completely healed in about three days."

"Oh, thank the heavens."

"And what about you? Did you find Blumiere? Is he alright?"

Timpani's lips trembled at the mention of the dark mage's name. A shaky breath escaped her mouth, and she could only nod in reply.

Sympathy warmed Merletoph's expression. He put a hand on Timpani's shoulder. "Why don't you get some rest? You look exhausted. We can talk more about this later."

"Woah, hey!" A feminine voice flew in from the bedroom hallway. "You're back!"

"Ah, Mimi," Merletoph said, "perfect timing. Your friend here is very tired, and there is no space left in my room for her to sleep. Would you mind if she took a nap in your bed?"

Timpani was too exhausted to politely decline.

Mimi's face brightened. "I don't mind! I can show her all the cool things in my room!"

"Let her rest, first," Merletoph chuckled, "and then be sure to ask her before you start showing her your rock collection."

"Thank you, Mimi," Timpani said as Merletoph helped her to her feet. "I would love to hear about your collection after I've rested."

Mimi giggled and clapped her hands together. "Okay! Have a good rest!"

Merletoph led the way to Mimi's room. The bed was small, but Timpani knew she wouldn't have trouble falling asleep. She could have slept on the floor. After changing into a robe offered by Merletoph and giving him her mud-soaked dress to wash, Timpani sunk into the bed, and at last, fell fast asleep.

The black porcelain shingles that covered the roof of the Tribe of Darkness' castle were finally dry enough for Dimentio to recline on. Their rain-polished surfaces still glistened in the sun, becoming almost mirror-like in appearance. The masked boy faced the sky, knowing if he looked at his reflection, he'd only want to see what lay beneath his outer shell.

He still had several hours before his father would meet him here and recently, Dimentio had begun to feel uneasy when he was alone. There was too much going on, too many things he didn't know before that were now made clear to him, and yet, this new knowledge brought countless hidden truths. He couldn't bear to be alone with his own thoughts, not when there was still so much unknown. He replayed his written conversation with Blumiere, his cousin's last reply ingrained into his mind. Had he been right to ask his cousin to go with him?

They would only have to cloak Blumiere's signature for as long as it took to get to the Gateway. Then, his soul would be too far away to concentrate on, just like Sha'i's soul was too far away for Merletoph to properly focus on it. Merletoph was one of the most powerful sages in the Tribe of Ancients, Dimentio reasoned. If it was a difficult task for him, certainly Blumiere's father wouldn't be able to properly track him. But, with the power of the Dark Prognosticus on his side, Dimentio's father was a different story.

What if father can use Blumiere's signature to hunt us all down? Was there any way to know for sure if they'd be safe? And then there's the matter of Blumiere's...agreement. Dimentio sat up, pressing a gloved hand over his masked forehead. He couldn't make this decision on his own. He couldn't stand to be alone anymore. He needed to speak to Merletoph.

Teleportation carried the magician to his grandfather's living room, a place that was now a regular destination. Merletoph was in the kitchen, his back turned, preparing something in a large pot over a stove. There wasn't anyone else in the room, so Dimentio removed his mask before saying, "I have returned, Merletoph."

Merletoph wasn't even startled. "So you have, my grandson. Is something the matter?"

"I have come to ask you a question."

"Oh? Go ahead, then."

"Who is coming with us to the Gateway?"

The contents of the pot fizzled, and Merletoph retrieved a spoon to stir it with. "You and I, of course. Mimi will have to come with, too. Kathleen will lead the way, but she will not be entering the Gateway with us. The boy Ronan will stay here, though. His grandmother is still alive, and I'm sure she would appreciate it if he were returned to her safely."

Dimentio fiddled with the corner of his mask. "Do we...have room for two more?"

Finally abandoning his cooking, Merletoph turned around to face his grandson. "Who do you mean?" His expression was quizzical, but his demeanor was calm as he waited for Dimentio to explain.

"I asked Blumiere to come with us," Dimentio said. He waited for Merletoph to shut him down immediately, but his grandfather did not say anything but nodded toward him, prompting him to go on. "He isn't safe here," Dimentio continued. "My father has been plotting to kill him, though I don't yet know why."

"It would not be safe for us to take Blumiere with us," Merletoph said in a gentle voice. "His soul signature is already well-known here. Assuming your father is the wielder of the Dark Prognosticus, he would have no trouble crossing dimensions to trace Blumiere's signature."

"I could cloak his signature," Dimentio suggested, "twice every day. Just like my father did to me."

"Is that a responsibility you are willing to take? We will be moving frequently from place to place. We will not always be resting at the same time every day."

"The exact time my father cloaks my signature has been ingrained into my mind. I know exactly when seven o'clock is, every morning, and every night. As soon as my signature uncloaks for the first time, I will cloak Blumiere's signature. Every day and night at seven o'clock, I will cloak it again."

Merletoph's lips pursed as he considered Dimentio's proposal. "I fear this may compromise the safety of everyone traveling with us. Are you sure Blumiere will be unsafe here?"

"No one is safe here," the magician said. "Not while my father is still alive. But he is specifically targeting Blumiere, and I… I don't think Blumiere deserves to die. He tried to find my mother, after all. I think…" Dimentio took a deep breath. "I think saving Blumiere would be a nice thing to do. And I want to do what is nice."

A proud smile lifted the corners of Merletoph's mouth. "You are right, Dimentio. That would be a nice thing to do." Stepping away from the bubbling pot of what was beginning to smell like carrots and potatoes, the sage approached his grandson. "If you are willing to take responsibility for your cousin, then we will take him with us. However, you mentioned two additional travelers earlier. Who is the second?"

Dimentio frowned. "Ah, yes. One moment." He reached into a pocket concealed on the inside of his poncho and revealed the folded piece of parchment that contained his conversation with Blumiere. Unfolding it, he presented it to Merletoph, who began to read its contents. As he got to the last line, he closed his eyes and hummed.

"Very well. I will see what I can do."

Dimentio nodded. As he folded the parchment to fit it back into his pocket, he glanced one last time at the final sentence Blumiere had written.

"I will not leave without Timpani."

A somber breeze trickled through the fog that hid the light of the moon from the grassy field. As Timpani waded through shadowy wildflowers, she steeled herself against the night's chill and her unpleasant thoughts.

Early tomorrow morning she was to meet up with Blumiere. She was going to tell him personally that she was not traveling with him to the Gateway, just as she had told Merletoph two days ago when he'd informed her of the dark mage's request. She was going to see him one last time before they all left, and she would wish them a safe journey.

And then she would never see Blumiere again.

Her feet slid to a stop on the damp grass. When she'd told Blumiere she never wanted to see him again, she had been truthful. She'd thought that would be the safest option for both of them. But now that she knew someone in his own tribe was trying to kill him, and that he was about to leave for a place completely unknown and never come back...she didn't know what was safest for him anymore.

But she couldn't go with him. She had to stay here, and...warn the others.

Shaking her head, Timpani picked up her feet and continued walking toward her destination. Nearly half of the people in town had already packed up their belongings and were fleeing for a safer location in the world. Timpani knew of one town about a day's journey away, but some of those making an escape were talking about going even further. She couldn't blame them. The town had been in a silent panic ever since the battle at the castle. There were, of course, those who couldn't afford to leave everything they had and move away. Timpani supposed that was the reason this town still existed, considering the history of deaths caused by the tribesmen in the castle.

She would stay on this world. She would move away with her aunt and uncle and live her normal life again. A pang of sorrow flared in her chest. She didn't even know what 'normal' was anymore.

The light wood of the meadow house cut through the fog just ahead of her. Just the sight of it eased her worrying heart. Even at night, spending time alone in this house brought her peace. She would sleep here tonight, meditating on her thoughts and preparing herself to face Blumiere tomorrow.

She opened the front door to the calming darkness of the living room. She closed the door behind her, moving with practiced steps toward where she knew a box of matches was located on top of a counter in the kitchen area. She slid a match out of the box and struck it against the side, lighting the wooden stick with a small flame. The table directly behind her contained an oil lamp, and she was cautious not to move the blaze too quickly as she turned to light it. Carefully, she lifted the rounded glass cover and guided the fire to the lamp's wick.

"Timpani, don't be frightened—"

The voice that came from the darkness may have been soft, but it was everything Timpani could do not to scream at the sudden noise. She jerked, the lamp's glass case shooting out of her hand and clattering to the floor. The lamp, now holding a flame, flickered orange light into the small room. Thankful she hadn't dropped the match, Timpani gave it a flick to put out the fire and then planted her hands on her hips.

"Blumiere, what in the land beneath the stars are you doing here?"

Blumiere, who had been sitting on the couch, scrambled to his feet and held his hands in front of him defensively. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you—"

"You were sitting on my couch in the dark, Blumiere! Of course I would be startled!"

He retrieved the glass cover from the floor, checked to make sure there were no cracks, and then placed it over the lamp's flame. Timpani backed away from him. "I, er—yes, yes, of course, you would be. I apologize. But please, Timpani, I must talk to you."

"My answer is no, Blumiere. I am not leaving with you tomorrow. That is final." If he wasn't going to give her time alone to think about it, she wouldn't bother thinking about her decision at all.

He walked around the table so he could get closer to her. "Wait, Timpani. Please, just...listen to what I have to say."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Timpani held Blumiere's gaze. She could see in his eyes that he was restraining himself from coming any closer, but his desire to hold her close to him was evident. Timpani stood her ground but replied, "Very well. Speak, then."

Blumiere put a hand on the table, as if he needed to support himself, and then drew in a deep breath. "I never felt love before meeting you, Timpani. And I fear I might never find it again. I must leave this world, for my own safety. But you are not safe here either, no one is! My uncle, who I thought was helping me this whole time, is actually plotting against me. He knows who you are, and he knows our relation. If I escape, I fear he might...use you against me. I cannot allow that, Timpani. I must know you are safe."

Blood roared in Timpani's ears as her heart beat against her chest. "I will escape to a safer place on this world, with my family. I will be fine."

"Answer me this truthfully, Timpani. Do you love me?"

She tore her gaze away from him at last. How dare he ask me this? Memories of their time spent together fluttered through her mind, welling up in her chest until she felt tears sting her eyes. She had only one answer.

"Yes." The word crackled out of her throat.

Blumiere's hands grasped her shoulders as he closed the gap between them. "Then, I have a proposal to make." A quiver worked its way into his voice. "Timpani...will you marry me?"

Stunned, she took a lurching step backward, shaking his hands off of her shoulders. "What…" Crystal eyes shining with tears bored into him. "What are you thinking? There's no possible way… No one would ever allow it!"

"You're right," Blumiere sighed. "It would be forbidden, at least in this world. But if we can't be happy here, we must leave for a place that will accept our love."

"But, Blumiere, is there such a place? How can you be sure we'll find it?" Her voice rose as she recalled how eager her own people were to kill Blumiere and his family. How would he be treated by people who had no idea what he was capable of? "Think… I can't bear to see you hurt again!"

"If our love has no home, let us spend our lives searching together!" Blumiere's calm, persistent voice rumbled over hers, and he stepped closer to her once more. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to be able to keep you safe. So please, I beg of you again… Timpani, marry me! I promise I will make you happy!"

She allowed him to take her hands, but she could not meet his eyes. Instead, she stared at the interlocking of their fingers, her pale thumb, and then his dark blue one. A pattern of light and dark, perfectly balanced.

"You...just won't give up, will you?" Her voice was little more than a whisper. "Of all the crazy, stubborn, foolish men…"

He gave her hands a gentle squeeze. "Timpani, answer me, please!" He was still so far away, but Timpani swore she could hear the beating of his heart.

I was so convinced I'd let him leave me behind, she thought. How did that seem like such an easy decision before? She forced herself to look at his face one last time, to ingrain in her memory the face that she would never see again. She would have to reject him.

But then she looked at his eyes, his wide, perfectly night-blue eyes, his arched eyebrows, and soft black hair, his lips quivering ever-so-slightly as he waited for her answer, and she couldn't do it. Not after everything he'd done, all of the risks he'd taken to see her. Here was a man willing to devote his entire life to her, and she was about to let him go? No. She couldn't do that.

"Blumiere—" she could scarcely get his name out. "I love you. Take me away. Take me to a world where we can be happy." She watched as his face contorted with relief, and a trembling half-laugh, half-sob escaped him as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to his chest.

He rocked her back and forth as they stood wordlessly for a few moments, both sniffling to try and clear away their tears. Blumiere broke the silence with a sigh. "Timpani," she could feel his chest rumbling as he spoke. "I want to make a promise to you. If there is a world out there where we can be happy together, I promise I will find it."

"And I promise I will never leave your side as we search," Timpani said. "Nothing will tear us apart. I love you, Blumiere."

"And I love you, Timpani. Hundreds of thousands of years from now, that fact will not have changed."

Chapter Text

Remember

Episode Six: The Gateway

Chapter Three

Early in the morning on the day of the escape, before the sun had the chance to peek its rays over the horizon, Merletoph's house was bustling with preparation. Everyone was working together to pack traveling bags for those who were leaving for a new world, and Merletoph was giving instructions on what to take from the house and what to leave behind for when he (ideally) came back with Sha'i. Talking in hushed, strained voices, everyone felt the same pressure. The thought of any part of the plan going badly loomed over them like a cloud.

Dimentio's plot to bring Blumiere with them was the leading cause of the party's stress. Less than twelve hours ago, at exactly 6:55 p.m., Dimentio cloaked Blumiere's signature and instructed him to leave his room in the castle immediately. Dimentio had hoped that in the five minutes between then and his morning meeting with his father at 7:00, no one would notice the absence of Blumiere's signature. Thankfully, when Aldrik met him last night, he made no mention of Blumiere.

Half an hour later, when Dimentio had checked back at the castle under his cloak of invisibility, he saw King Basile pacing about with a grave expression on his face, and knew that Blumiere's disappearance had been discovered. After that, Dimentio warned everyone at Merletoph's (which at the time did not include Timpani) to stay in the safety of the invisible house, just in case Basile or any of the other tribesmen passed by them in their search. Upon hearing this, Blumiere had insisted he find Timpani so he could ensure she traveled to Merletoph's safely the next morning. Despite Merletoph and Dimentio strongly advising against this, Blumiere had disappeared without listening to their arguments. Both the sage and his grandson were surprised to see Blumiere and Timpani reappear in Merletoph's living room at about midnight, the human woman staggering after her first interdimensional traveling experience. No one had expected Timpani to agree to come with them, so they began to pack a bag for her, too.

Currently, at 6:40 a.m., and having slept less than an hour during the night, Dimentio was preparing for the second part of his plan. Amid the bustle in Merletoph's living room, he approached Blumiere and gave him a small nod, indicating that he was ready. Blumiere returned the nod, and Dimentio couldn't help but notice that his cousin looked a little sick to his stomach.

"The plan will work," Dimentio said with a confidence he didn't feel. Blumiere had little reason to trust him, and he was essentially placing his life in his young cousin's hands, so Dimentio couldn't blame him for being worried.

"Run the plan by me again. One more time, before you leave." Timpani had been hovering near Blumiere from the second they got here. Dimentio couldn't guess why she was so attached to him now when she'd been so willing to stay behind last night. He could sense she was asking him about his plan in order to sift through it for possible discrepancies. Unlike Blumiere, the only reason Timpani could have to trust him is that he was responsible for Ronan and Kathleen's safety, but her life was not in Dimentio's hands, so the reason for her worry must be tied to Blumiere.

Blumiere must have told her something special, he decided. A secret, maybe. There was something different about her from the last time he'd seen her, he could tell. Then again, Dimentio could sense a difference in himself this morning, and perhaps that was why he was so keen to pick it up in the others. Ever since he'd begun planning his escape from his father—no, ever since he'd stared at his own face in the mirror, his own, real face, his silly, flippant facade had begun to crack. He felt he must take this whole process very seriously.

"Blumiere and I will leave at 6:50–"

"Would you take your mask off, please?" Timpani cut in.

Dimentio bristled from behind his protective covering. He couldn't imagine why, but he was running out of time to explain. Lifting his mask off of his face, he turned his eyes to the ground and continued in a quieter voice. "At 6:50, we'll teleport—"

"You'll what? Look up here, I can't hear you."

"Be patient with him, please," Dimentio heard Merletoph say from the kitchen where he was sifting through the contents in a drawer. Timpani looked back at him, and through gestures and facial expressions they had some unspoken conversation, though it wasn't in sign language, so Dimentio couldn't understand what they were saying. He figured maybe Merletoph was telling her he was dumb.

"Continue," Timpani said once she had finished her silent conversation.

Dimentio tried to speak louder this time. "I found a place on the other side of the world for us to teleport to, far from the direction of the Dimensional Gateway that Kathleen is taking us to. At 6:50–" and it was 6:45 now, he noted "—Blumiere and I will teleport there. His signature will uncloak at 6:55. When it does," Dimentio explained, because he noticed Timpani looked confused, "all of his family will be able to tell where he is, because they'll be able to sense his signature. So they'll come looking. But by the time they get there, I'll have cloaked Blumiere's signature again, and Blumiere will come back here. I will teleport back to the castle, where my father must meet me to cloak my signature. And he must, so I am not discovered by the other members of the Tribe of Darkness. Because he must do this, he will have to give up searching for Blumiere. He'll have to come up with a reason for doing so, a reason to stop searching for the King's son." Dimentio swallowed, wanting to look away from Timpani or hide his face again. "He will probably suspect I have something to do with Blumiere going missing, but because he must return to the search, he will not have any time to…" He swallowed again, finding it hard to continue. Countless memories of laying paralyzed on the hot black roof of the castle surfaced in his mind. "To… To ask questions. Aha."

Blumiere narrowed his eyes and donned a strange expression. Expressions were something Dimentio was still learning to interpret, but for some reason, this expression of Blumiere's gave him the feeling that his cousin understood Dimentio's personal stake in the matter. Blumiere's life was in his hands, but Dimentio's life would forever be in his father's.

Maybe that will change now, Dimentio thought to himself, but he immediately dismissed it. It was dangerous to hope for something like that.

Timpani leaned in a little closer to him. "How old are you?" she asked.

"Eight." He wasn't sure why that was a relevant question.

Her crystal blue eyes widened and she looked over her shoulder at Merletoph again. Merletoph nodded.

"We need to leave," Dimentio told Blumiere, not wanting his interaction with Timpani to drag on any longer than necessary. A glance at Merletoph's wall clock told him it was 6:49, about 30 seconds away from 6:50.

As Blumiere nodded, Timpani grabbed onto his arm. "Please, stay safe," she murmured to him, but Dimentio could hear her words clearly. "I couldn't bear to lose you. Especially not now."

"I'll be back in a heartbeat," he told her, touching his forehead to hers.

Dimentio could not have felt more disgusted. Was it necessary for them to do this right in front of him? While Timpani was distracted with Blumiere, Dimentio put his mask back on, safely concealing his face once again. He rubbed at the bottom of his poncho impatiently. Didn't Blumiere understand how urgent this was?

At last, his cousin broke away from Timpani. "We need to hurry," he told Dimentio, but Dimentio already knew that.

Grasping onto Blumiere's wrist, Dimentio said, "I will take us there. I'll teleport us both." Before Blumiere had the chance to comply, Dimentio focused on the location he'd picked, and sent both himself and Blumiere there via his teleportation.

Wind whipped around them as they touched down on the rocky surface of a butte hundreds of kilometers away from the castle. The surrounding area was dotted with other buttes and foothills and a nearby mountain range cluttered the horizon. The buttes and hills rose up out of a dense coniferous forest that stretched as far as the two magicians could see.

Dimentio had found this place yesterday by continuously teleporting to the furthest location he could see on the horizon. He'd reached the mountain range in about three minutes, deciding the hills and trees provided enough cover that it would take his father and King Basile (as well as anyone else searching for Blumiere) a good amount of time to look everywhere.

Blumiere brushed his hair away from his face, trying to keep it out of his eyes as he turned in a circle, scanning the area. "Where are we?" he asked. "I can't see the castle anywhere."

"We're far away," Dimentio said. "Far enough that you cannot feel the signatures of those back at the castle."

As if just realizing this, Blumiere gasped. "I can't feel anyone's soul signature! Not even father's."

Dimentio nodded in agreement, though he didn't tell Blumiere that one signature still stuck out in his mind. But he knew Blumiere would never be able to sense Merletoph, and Dimentio wasn't quite sure how the old sage's signature still managed to shine so brightly when they were so far away, so he felt it best not to bring it up.

"How long until my signature will uncloak?" Blumiere's voice was laced with worry.

"Approximately three minutes."

"How do you know that exactly?"

Dimentio turned to look up at Blumiere, his eyes narrowing from behind his mask. "I learned to count the time. I had to, aha ha."

He assumed the expression on Blumiere's face meant he didn't believe him, and once again Dimentio was reminded that his cousin's fate was largely dependent upon him. So he tried to explain it as best he could.

"How do you think I managed to have my signature cloaked at exactly the same time every morning and evening? My father couldn't call for me. I had to be ready."

Blumiere grunted in reply, and then said, "So, what do you need me to do?"

"Teleport back to Merletoph's house as soon as I tell you to. Can you do that?" He knew Blumiere had much less experience with teleportation than he did.

"I… I can," Blumiere said, but he sounded much more uncertain.

Dimentio's heart pounded. If his plan didn't work because Blumiere couldn't get away, they were in trouble. "Just picture Merletoph's living room in your mind. You were there all morning."

"I can do it," Blumiere retorted, more confident this time. "Just tell me when to go, and I'll go."

"In about two minutes now, your signature will uncloak. Since we're so far away from the castle, it should take a while before anyone feels the signal. My father will probably feel it first, but he might not tell your father until he feels it for himself."

"Because...Aldrik is the wielder of the Dark Prognosticus?" Blumiere asked. He sounded as if he were still trying to wrap his mind around it. "Well, what if he comes and finds us before we can leave? And he tries to kill me?" The fear in Blumiere's eyes was unmistakable.

Dimentio had thought of these possibilities already, and unfortunately, his answers were only desperate assumptions. He had solutions, but only for himself, and he realized that if his father did make it here before Dimentio could cloak his signature again, Blumiere's chances of escape were dangerously slim. "He can't risk killing you here," Dimentio said at last, "because he can't risk King Basile seeing him do it. That's why he never tried to kill you himself before. He wanted the humans to do it. And they almost succeeded, aha ha ha."

"Don't laugh," Blumiere said. "This is not funny. One wrong move could cause the destruction of your entire plan."

Dimentio fell silent. He didn't know how to explain that he wasn't laughing because it was funny. He was laughing because one wrong move could destroy his entire plan. But, he gathered, that wasn't a normal reason to laugh. And probably not a 'nice' one, either. "One minute left," was what he finally said, brushing his mind's wonderings away. "Give me your wrists."

A shaking hand was extended down toward Dimentio. Blumiere didn't say anything else, and neither did Dimentio. He just counted away the seconds, hearing the perpetual ticking of the clock inside his mind.

Fifty-five, fifty-four, fifty-three…

He took Blumiere's extended hand and reached for the other one as well, hovering a little off the ground so Blumiere wouldn't have to crouch down.

Forty-eight, forty-seven, forty-six…

With his thumbs, he found the pulse in Blumiere's wrists. His heart was pounding at an irregular rate. It was hard to miss.

Forty, thirty-nine, thirty-eight…

Blumiere was looking exceedingly nauseous. Dimentio didn't have the time or confidence to try and convince him that his plan would work.

Twenty-six, twenty-five, twenty-four…

A gust of wind tugged at Dimentio's heels and whipped Blumiere's hair into his eyes. The pointed ends of Dimentio's hat were flung sideways, nearly taking it off of his head.

"Ten, nine, eight..." he began to speak the numbers aloud, hoping it might help Blumiere prepare. His cousin only paled considerably as he spoke.

Another gust of wind hit. This one rattled through the trees, reaching the top of the butte with a howling ferocity. It tore at Dimentio's hat, and this time, it flung it right off of his head. His mask, which was attached to the brim of his hat, veered sideways and clattered to the ground right next to Dimentio's feet. The hat, being much lighter, was carried over the edge of the butte and into the trees.

Keeping his focus, Dimentio locked his uncovered eyes with Blumiere's, begging him silently not to move. "Three, two, one."

A burst of Blumiere's soul signature filled the forefront of Dimentio's mind. He pressed his thumbs more firmly into his cousin's wrists and counted one heartbeat, two heartbeats, three. Then he released the spell. It took five more seconds for the cloaking magic to fully travel from Dimentio to Blumiere, but the effect was instantaneous. Grimacing, Blumiere gritted his teeth against the pain.

"Go!" Dimentio said as soon as he was finished. Blumiere disappeared without leaving any further trace of his signature. Swiftly, Dimentio swooped down and picked up his mask, before he disappeared himself, leaving behind a completely empty butte. Dimentio covered himself with a cloak of invisibility and began a frantic search for his hat.

Diving over the edge of the butte where it disappeared, he scanned the trees, trying to spot any hint of purple or yellow among the green pine needles. He had five minutes—less than that, now—to find it before going to meet his father. And if he came without his hat, his father would ask questions, or—

He had never felt panic quite like he did when he realized what might happen if his hat were left behind here. If someone other than his father found it, it would be proof. Proof of his existence. He was about to dive deeper into the trees when he was alerted of a new presence nearby. One that sent chills down his spine.

Aldrik was on top of the butte directly behind him, and though Dimentio could not see him, he could tell his father was scanning the horizon. Invisible though he was, he dared not move, and he listened very carefully to hear if his father was saying anything.

"He must be here somewhere." The words floated on the wind to reach Dimentio's ears. Aldrik continued to speak as if he were in conversation with someone. "I will find him. No, he will die, and it must be before Basile arrives. Be quiet! I know what is best for my son!"

Heart pounding, Dimentio peeked his head up so he could see the top of the butte again. His father was the only one there. So who was he talking to? Aldrik turned suddenly in his direction, so Dimentio dipped lower again, trying to keep his breathing quiet. As he backed away into the trees, he finally caught sight of his hat, tucked away between a bush and a tree trunk. He snagged it quickly. As soon as he touched it, it became invisible, hidden just as the rest of his clothes were.

"You shouldn't have done that."

Dimentio nearly dropped his hat as his body jolted in surprise. Aldrik's voice was much closer and clearer now. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw his father standing at the edge of the butte, looking down in his direction. But his gaze passed right over Dimentio, still scanning the trees. He continued speaking.

"You cannot make this decision yourself. I will kill Blumiere, and then you will have no choice but to obey me."

Aldrik may not have been speaking to his son, but Dimentio feared the words as if they were meant for him. Frozen in place, the young magician repeated his father's words in his mind. "You cannot make this decision yourself...you will have no choice but to obey me."

"Darkness or light...it is your decision alone." He recalled Merletoph's words, but they were a mere mumble underneath Aldrik's harsh growl.

Maybe he couldn't make the decision for himself. Maybe it was a terrible idea to leave his father behind. He would probably never find his mother, and that was probably for the best, anyway. She'd probably found some other young boy to be her son. And she probably wouldn't recognize him—

Basile was here. Dimentio felt his signature just before he saw him on top of the butte, right behind his father.

"Aldrik. You felt it too?"

Basile sounded as though he had not slept since Blumiere was discovered missing last night. It also occurred to Dimentio that Basile had arrived nearly two full minutes after his father, which gave him an idea of just how powerful Aldrik's magic was compared to Basile's.

"Yes. He is here, somewhere."

The irritation in Aldrik's voice was nearly imperceptible, but Dimentio caught it. Then, his father's voice softened.

"Allow me to go back to the castle, my King. I will gather the others and bring them here so we can all search together."

Basile, who was already scouring the other end of the butte, gave an affirmative reply that Dimentio couldn't quite hear. His father disappeared.

Dimentio was still hovering above the ground, invisible to the world, clutching his hat in one hand and his mask in the other. It took him a few seconds to realize that his father wasn't just going to gather the others. He was using that as his excuse. And that meant his father was probably waiting for him on the roof of the castle right now.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The clock inside of his mind neared 6:59. He was never this late, and he was always, always there before his father. Fumbling with his hat, he tried to shove it onto his head in the correct manner, but since it was invisible, he couldn't tell which part of the brim was supposed to sit on his forehead. He tried to feel for the loops that his mask would attach to. There were four of them, two on the top and one on each side that the corresponding hooks on his mask would attach to. His fingers brushed two...three, but where was the fourth?

Finally, he just decided to fit his mask into whatever loops were present. He tugged the mask over his face, shifting it, feeling that it was definitely wrong, but knowing that it would have to do. He had just over thirty seconds left.

Envisioning the black roof tiles, he allowed his teleportation to carry him away, still invisible, from the forest and the butte.

Sure enough, Aldrik was already on top of the roof, looking a mixture of furious and anxious. Dimentio stared at him for a moment, still invisible, but the way his father's eyes narrowed suddenly, he knew Aldrik had seen the tiny dimensional ripples that had appeared when Dimentio arrived.

"Where have you been?"

Dimentio knew his father was addressing him this time. Shifting his mask one more time, he let go of his invisibility spell.

"Why does it matter where I've been? You never care about where I go."

He saw fury spark a red flame in his father's blue eyes. Dimentio had never been one to hold back snark, and Aldrik usually only responded with irritation as long as Dimentio still obeyed him. This time, however, he could sense he'd made a wrong move. As Aldrik grabbed Dimentio's thin wrists, he knelt down, pulling the much smaller boy down through the air so he was hovering just above the roof. Dimentio winced; his father's grip was tight, and his thumbs pressed deeply into the tender skin on his wrists.

Ten seconds, the clock inside of Dimentio's mind warned, but that was the least of his worries. The look in his father's eyes was murderous, and he still hadn't said anything to him since his initial question. Dimentio couldn't find anything to say to him, either. He didn't know if his father was waiting for a better answer or waiting for the seconds to pass so he could administer the spell. Either way, Dimentio opted for closing his eyes. Some part of him hated seeing his father like this, and he knew Aldrik couldn't tell what he was doing behind his mask.

Tick. Tick. Tick. The cloaking spell hit him like a deluge of rainwater, a shocking cold that bolted up his arms and through his body. He noticed at once that this was not the usual cloaking spell. His feet clunked onto the roof tiles as the magic he used to fly tapered and disappeared. He experienced tunnel vision in his mind's eye as the soul signatures around him blinked out like stars until the only thing he was aware of was the rapid beating of his own heart. Suddenly there was nothing inside of him, nothing except his own flesh and blood. He felt disgustingly human.

His father had not just taken away his soul signature. He had taken everything.

"For now, you will be going nowhere," Aldrik said at last. And then, to further Dimentio's horror, he continued, "And you will especially not be going anywhere with Merletoph, or Blumiere, or any of the humans you've chosen to show your face to." With that, he let go of Dimentio's wrists and tore the mask from his face so violently that Dimentio stumbled backward and, without any magic to prevent his fall, landed on his back on the jagged roof tiles. He gasped in pain, the air sucked from his lungs.

"What do you suppose was the point of taking your signature away every damned day of your life if you were going to show your face to anyone you wished? To give proof of your existence to anyone besides the two of us? Not anymore, boy. You exist for one purpose. And you will fulfill it."

Dimentio could say nothing, partially because he was still gasping for breath, but mostly because he didn't want to give his father so much as the time of day. He couldn't ignore the blatant, unobscured red glow in Aldrik's eyes. Dimentio had no doubt left in his mind that his father was being influenced by the Dark Prognosticus.

With a snarl, Aldrik threw the mask down onto the black roof tiles and spat one more sentence at his son. "And now, because of your carelessness, I must eliminate those who have seen your face." With that, he disappeared, and Dimentio was left alone on the roof.

He knows. That was the only thought that surfaced in Dimentio's mind. He knows we're trying to escape. After that, his mind was flooded by countless other realizations and questions.

He thinks we're heading in a different direction. But he knows we're leaving together. Has he been watching me? Does he know I'm going to find mother? Does he hate mother now? Does he never want to see her again?

He began to wonder again about his father's motives.

He wanted to keep me a secret for a reason. And it wasn't just because he was trying to hide me from King Basile. I have a purpose. That's what he said. I exist for one purpose. Could it have something to do with the Dark Prognosticus…?

Has father lived his entire life following what the Dark Prognosticus says…?

No. No, he suddenly realized, his father hadn't been following the Dark Prognosticus. Or, at least, not always. What was it he'd said when Dimentio had overheard him at the butte?

"You cannot make this choice yourself. I will kill Blumiere, and then you will have to obey me."

Had he been talking to the Dark Prognosticus? Did the Dark Prognosticus not want him to kill Blumiere?

Why…?

Why, why would his father want to kill Blumiere, and why would the Dark Prognosticus want to save him? It was too much for Dimentio to ponder. He needed to talk to Merletoph, but—

Merletoph? As soon as Dimentio thought about the sage, there was a nagging sensation in the back of his mind. He focused on it, feeling within a sort of light.

The back of his throat stung. It was Merletoph's soul signature. He could feel it. Even though his father had taken everything else away from him, Merletoph's light still shone through. And he could tell that Merletoph was still at his home. He was waiting for him.

But there's no way for me to get there, he realized, and his heart grew heavy again. Unless I walk there. But he didn't know how far his weak legs could carry him. And how was he to get off of this roof?

I have to try. And he had to do it fast. Aldrik could come back at any moment and start following the correct trail. Everyone else was in danger, and Dimentio was the only one who knew.

Pushing himself up to his feet, he wobbled around the roof, looking for a place where he could drop down to the ground. The roof was composed of many spires and tiers, and from his position, the only way down would lead him to a lower portion of the roof. It would not be pleasant to fall from his height onto the hard roof tiles, so he would have to think of another way.

To his right, one of the castle's towers reached up from a different section of the roof below him. From where he was standing, he could see a window a little way down the wall of the tower. Shaped like a square at the bottom and arched at the top, there was a single bar that split it down the middle. Thin though it was, Dimentio knew he was small enough to squeeze through it and into the castle if he could get to it. It was close enough to his section of the roof that he could jump down and land on the windowsill, which was wide enough that he would be able to stand on it, but Dimentio was unsure of how well he could balance, especially in his current condition.

Sitting down on the edge of the roof, he scooted as close as he could to the wall of the tower. From here, he could reach his foot out to touch the top of the window. There was a tiny ledge of jutting stones that surrounded it. If he could grip that with his hands, he might be able to swing down and land on the windowsill relatively easily.

Of course, the matter would be grabbing the ledge, and he could not reach it with his hands from where he was sitting. That meant he would need to fall a few centimeters off of the roof first, then grab the ledge, and then land on the windowsill.

It was possible, but it was also very possible that he would kill himself trying. It was a long fall onto the hard roof tiles beneath him. But Merletoph's light in the back of his mind urged him onward. He had to go warn them. They needed to leave this world.

Pushing himself off of the roof, he reached for the top of the window. His fingers found the ledge there, but he realized too late that the ledge was not wide enough to hold onto. His hands slipped just as his feet landed on the edge of the windowsill. Losing his balance, he began to fall backward, but he thrust a hand forward to grab the bar that divided the window in two. As his hand closed around it, he pulled himself closer and hugged his arms around the bar. Feeling weaker than ever, Dimentio could not get his legs to stop shaking.

This would be so much easier if he could fly.

After taking a moment to catch his breath, Dimentio slipped inside the castle and landed noiselessly on the staircase inside the tower. He couldn't help but smile. He'd been inside this tower before. Of course, it had been underneath a cloak of invisibility, and he'd stayed as close to the ceiling as he could manage, but he thought he knew how to get to the main entrance from here.

And, if Aldrik's plan was working, there would be no one in the castle who could find him.

Chapter Text

Remember

Episode Seven: Countdown

Chapter One

In times like these, Aldrik preferred to hide in his room. He’d huddle under the blankets on his bed with a pillow clamped over his ears, trying anything he could to ease the headache that pressed against his skull. He writhed, arching his back, gagging on his own cries of pain. 

The Voice was relentless as it broadened to its full expanse inside his mind, testing the boundaries. Sometimes it would do this just to remind Aldrik of its power, but today, it was a punishment.

“I won’t do it!” Aldrik hissed into his blankets, his thoughts forced out of his mouth by the invasive presence in his mind.

“Then you will never be king.” The Voice spoke as if it were his own thought, leaving no room for Aldrik’s own insight.

“Basile will give me the crown. I just have to show him how powerful I am!”

“You have no power. No throne, no heir. You have not even grazed the cover of the Dark Prognosticus. You are nothing.”

Aldrik turned his head to hide his face in his pillow, breathing deeply to give himself something to focus on other than the pounding in his skull. “I won’t kill my own brothers!”

“Then you are weak, just like the others before you. A new vessel shall be born soon. One I will be able to bend to my will. One stronger than you.”

“But...as you said, I have no heir.”

“And so shall your bloodline die with you.”

“No! I will find a wife. She will bear me a child, and then...then you will have to listen to me. I’ll have an heir, and I’ll convince Basile to give me the throne.”

The Voice finally released its pressure, fading back with a reverberating cackle. “Very well… If you are so confident, prove it to me. Produce an heir. Become king. But in twenty years’ time, if you have not succeeded, I will find my next vessel, and I will not leave you alive to reveal my secrets. Until then, I will enjoy watching you suffer…” The Voice laughed again, slinking away to the recesses of Aldrik’s mind. His head felt cavernous in its absence. 

Turning over, Aldrik exhaled a shaky breath. Twenty years...well, then he would do it in ten, or five, just to spite The Voice. He’d do it. And he’d do it on his own terms.

“Why do you trouble yourself with searching?” 

Aldrik shielded his eyes as he arrived on the windy butte and scanned the area as efficiently as possible, looking for signs of Blumiere. “He must be here somewhere.”

“Do not waste what little time you have left on such inanities.”

“I will find him.”

“I will not allow you to kill the vessel, even if you find him.”

“No,” Aldrik said, his voice rising with the wind and echoing through the rocky valley below. “He will die, and it must be before Basile arrives.”

The Voice shifted, squirming uncomfortably inside of Aldrik’s mind.

“Your fool of a son will never be my vessel, no matter how you wish it to be true.” 

“Be quiet! I know what is best for my son!” Aldrik thrust The Voice into the back of his mind. Blumiere’s signature was fading. Dimentio must have cloaked it again, just a few seconds too late. Sloppy. He should have known the exact moment to readminister the spell. Walking to the edge of the butte, Aldrik examined the trees closely. Now, which way did you go?

“Don’t forget who holds the power of the prophecies.” The Voice emerged as a murmur, pulling itself bit by bit through the fibers of his mind. “I have already written your wretched half-breed out of the Dark Prognosticus.”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Aldrik spat.

“I could have written him out of existence entirely.”

Aldrik shuddered despite himself.

“The child is worthless. I have already chosen my next vessel.”

Aldrik insisted, “You cannot make this decision yourself. I will kill Blumiere, and then you will have no choice but to obey me.”

The Voice broadened, pressing against the edges of Aldrik’s mind with dark laughter.

“We have to leave without him.”

Timpani’s voice cut through the suppressed panic, the shuffling of feet, movement of belongings, the crowding in the doorway, the urgent looks out the windows. She was standing with one foot out the door, watching the ever-brightening sky. 

Merletoph’s strained voice sounded from inside the house. “No. Dimentio is essential to our survival. We must wait for him.” Timpani looked back into the old man’s yellow eyes, wrinkled with stress, seeing deep anxiety in his stare. 

“He’s right,” Blumiere said, shuffling through the doorway to stand by her side. “If Dimentio doesn’t come with, my father will be able to find me. He’s the only one who can keep my signature cloaked.”

“And why can’t you do that yourself?” Timpani was struggling to keep the irritation out of her voice. Just a few hours ago, she was intent on staying behind and avoiding this mess. Now she was beginning to wish she had stood her ground and let Blumiere go without her.

“Even if I could use the spell,” Blumiere replied, “I wouldn’t be able to use it on myself. That’s not how it works.” He was not trying to hide his frustration. “We have to wait for Dimentio.”

“The kid saved me life,” Kathleen chimed in. “The least we can do is wait a little longer.”

Timpani turned to watch the sky again, holding her tongue lest she said anything she would regret later. She had a hard time trusting Dimentio, even if he had returned Blumiere safely, and exactly when he said he would. He was unnerving, an anomaly of a child, and she was just waiting for him to step out of line. 

“Come inside, Timpani,” Blumiere urged her, grasping her hand and giving her a little tug. She wrenched her hand away, not particularly wanting to be touched right now, and turned to go inside herself. She knew it wasn’t doing any good to watch the sky, but she was hoping by being halfway out the door, she would be able to encourage the others to get a move on. 

She caught Blumiere’s hurt gaze as she crossed the threshold. With a small sigh, she reached for his hand and held it tightly in hers, offering a silent apology. Then, as one, they sat next to Kathleen on the couch in the living room, waiting for Dimentio to return. 

Suddenly, Mimi bolted out of the bedroom, her green pigtails bouncing wildly. “He’s awake! He’s awake!” she cried. 

Everyone in the room was on their feet in a matter of seconds, even Kathleen, who was still healing from her encounter with the Tribe of Darkness. They all knew Mimi was talking about Ronan, who had been in and out of fitful sleep over the past three days. His wounds had not been as serious as Kathleen’s, but since he was so young, the magic had taken a toll on him. The current plan was to carry him to his grandmother’s house before beginning their journey, but if he was actually awake now, they would be able to properly say goodbye to him. Timpani followed Mimi back into the bedroom, preceding the others by a few steps. 

Ronan was tucked into Merletoph’s bed, snug beneath several layers of blankets. His eyes, rimmed by dark purple circles, were half-open, but they fluttered as Timpani approached him. He turned his head toward her. 

“What happened?” Ronan croaked. His dry lips were pulled into a frown, but they eased upward once he noticed Blumiere. “Oh, Blue! Yeh’re okay! I was—” he cut off with a cough that shook his entire body. “I was so scared. Yeh’re family’s really mean, they...they tried to hurt Kathleen an’ me pretty bad…”

Timpani didn’t miss the way Blumiere flinched at that. “Yes,” he mumbled, “it wasn’t a fair fight. I’m...so sorry, Ronan.”

“We must explain to the boy what happened,” Merletoph said, easing himself into the conversation. “And...we must explain to him what our next course of action is.”

As Ronan craned his neck to see Merletoph, Kathleen pushed past Timpani to stand at the boy’s side. She brushed a hand through his hair. “What d’ya mean?” Ronan asked.

Merletoph breathed out a sigh. “Child...first, we must return you to your grandmother. But after that, I am afraid the rest of us will be leaving this world, for a very long time.”

With one hand trailing along the black, stone wall for support, Dimentio crept down the halls of the Tribe’s castle. It was quiet. Thanks to his father’s agenda, everyone was out of the castle and on the hunt for Blumiere. 

Well, that was what he’d hoped, at least. As he reached an intersection, he heard sounds coming from the corridor to his right. A baby’s cry, followed by the murmuring of its mother. Dimentio recognized the voice of Arabelle, who was effectively his cousin, or his father’s brother’s daughter. Of course, they’d never actually met, but Dimentio knew she spent a lot of time on her long, wavy hair, hated the smell of flowers, and never really cared to be a mother. She was only carrying out her duty to keep the Tribe of Darkness from dying off completely, though Dimentio could name quite a few of the Tribe’s young men who could be the child’s father, unlike what Arabelle’s husband might like to believe.

Arabelle knew nothing about him. And with his hat and mask still laying on the roof of the castle, he would look like nothing more than a human.

Dimentio decided he wouldn’t let her see him. But, that was easier said than done without his magic. The castle’s front doors were still far ahead of him, and he doubted he would have the strength to run the whole way there.

He heard footsteps just before he locked eyes with Arabelle as she turned the corner. Biting back a gasp, he cursed his body in its present state. Not being able to sense soul signatures was like being half-blind.

“Oh.”

Admittedly, Dimentio was expecting a bigger reaction than that. 

Arabelle held her baby closer to her chest, her eyes narrowed inquisitively. “A human? How did you get in here?” Before Dimentio could begin to formulate a response, she continued, “I’d better get rid of you before King Basile returns.”

Pushing himself away from the wall, Dimentio ducked just in time to evade a magic orb. Stumbling over his uncoordinated feet, he tripped forward and fell on his stomach, pushing all of the air out of his lungs with an “Oof!” In a mad scramble, he was able to shove himself to his feet again, but he was having a hard time keeping his balance without the wall for support. He passed by Arabelle, who readied another orb lazily.

“Your parents are dead, child,” she said. “Or your brother, or sister, or whoever you’re looking for. None of the humans who attacked us survived.” 

Her bored, monotonous voice would have sounded chilling to anyone who hadn’t been raised by Aldrik. Dimentio just wondered how this conversation would go if she knew they were cousins, or if she knew he was anything but human. Brushing his long hair out of his eyes (on one hand, it was nice to feel his hair; on the other hand, it wasn’t so nice when it blocked his vision), he focused on putting one foot after the other, coordinating each step so he wouldn’t stumble again. It took more concentration than any two of his magical spells combined. 

Risking a glance backward just in time to see Arabelle vanish, Dimentio was able to skid to a stop as she reappeared directly in front of him. He was not fast enough, however, to escape from the hand that grabbed his wrist, yanking him back toward her. He gasped as her fingers pressed into his bruised skin. 

With one arm still cradling her baby, Arabelle raised Dimentio’s hand above his head until he had to stand on his tip-toes to relieve some of the tension in his shoulder. Gritting his teeth, he tried to hold back a cry of pain. 

“I wish I could make this quick. Or any less painful,” Arabelle said. “Sorry. If it makes it any better, your family’s probably waiting for you, wherever you go.”

Dimentio’s struggle was in vain. He tried to twist his wrist out of her grasp in order to avoid what he knew was coming, his stomach clenched in anticipation of the pain— 

What he wasn’t prepared for was the liquid that trickled down his arm. It was thick, dark, and familiar. 

The spell didn’t work? It didn’t work!

Confusion knit Arabelle’s brow, and as she readjusted her grip to try again, Dimentio felt his wrist slip. He tugged downward, using the slickness of the failed magic spell to slide his wrist out of her grasp. As soon as he was free he made a break for it, sprinting toward the front door with renewed adrenaline.

Coming upon another intersection, he veered right. He was just 20 meters and a left turn from freedom.

Something struck him in the back, sending him flying forward. It had such power that, though he braced his fall with his hands, he tumbled head-over-heels several times before skidding to a stop. He coughed and rolled over, feeling the cold touch of the floor on a small section of his back. 

She burned a hole through my shirt. But it did nothing to my skin.

“What’s wrong with you?” Arabelle’s voice drifted over him. He could hear her footsteps clicking closer. “Why can’t I hurt you?”

Oh, she’d hurt him, just not in the way she’d intended. In spite of his aching body, Dimentio grinned, an idea coming to mind. 

“Aha ha ha ha!” He sat up slowly, relishing the look of unease on her face at his unrestrained laughter. “Of course you can’t hurt me. I don’t exist.” He pushed himself to his feet. 

Arabelle’s expression was nothing short of pensive. “What do you mean?”

“Be careful, Arabelle.”

A gasp knocked her back a pace as he said her name. “What? How do you—?”

“If you keep attacking me, you’ll make me very angry.” He took a few steps toward the castle’s entrance. “I know a lot more about you than just your name. Aha ha. It would be a shame if your husband found out about your long nights in his brothers’ rooms. Aha ha ha! Imagine his surprise!”

“What...what are you?”

He touched the door, thankful for something to lean on. “A spirit. A ghost. A figment of your guilty conscience. Someone you’d be better off forgetting.” He pushed the door open, inviting a stream of early-morning sunlight into the hallway. It fell over his cousin, illuminating her rigid shock. “Goodbye, Arabelle.”

The door clunked shut behind him. He wasted not a moment to catch his breath, knowing he would need to make himself scarce in case she decided to pursue him. The path to the humans’ town was not far, and once he rounded the corner he’d be out of sight. It took him about two minutes and three uncoordinated stumbles, but he made it to the gate and down the slope far enough that he wouldn’t be seen by anyone on top of the hill.

His quivering legs begged for a moment of rest. Collapsing against the rocky wall, he rubbed at the aches in his hands, wrists, arms, and shoulders. His knees had taken the brunt of one of his falls earlier, and he could feel the bruises breaking through there, too. He was lucky he hadn’t been hurt by Arabelle’s magic, or he probably wouldn’t have walked out of the castle alive. 

He didn’t allow himself to ponder why the magic hadn’t hurt him. He didn’t have time. With a groan, he forced himself to push away from the wall and keep running, though he’d barely caught his breath. He needed to get to Merletoph.

Merletoph. Once again, a bright glow tugged his mind in the direction of his grandfather’s house. Feeling its warmth gave him a little more strength.

Without further delay, he made it to the bottom of the cliff and turned left instead of traveling further into the town. There wasn’t a human in sight; it appeared they were all staying as far away from the castle as possible. The forest swallowed him up, providing ample cover but making running so much harder. Every little branch and plant grabbed at his feet, despite his best efforts to avoid them, and he found himself on the ground with a mouthful of dirt more than he would have liked to admit. 

The pull of Merletoph’s soul grew stronger with every step, urging him on even after he crashed through a bush he was too frustrated to go around. The whip of its branches left stinging streaks across his arms and face, but he pressed ever onward. He was getting close now. 

At last, he burst into an open clearing, one he recognized. He knew Merletoph’s house was hidden around here somewhere; his soul signature was pulsing as loud as Dimentio’s own heart. 

With a cough that sputtered air into his burning lungs, he fell to his knees in the soft grass. His face hit the ground a moment later as he was lulled into unconsciousness by his grandfather’s comforting existence. 

Dimentio shifted his head as he broke free from the tendrils of sleep and felt...fabric? Was he in a bed? No, unless the bed was somehow moving, and glowing with Merletoph’s signature. He was wrapped up in something, or...was he being carried?

Forcing one eye open, he watched groggily as forest greenery bobbed past him. He was definitely being carried.

“Welcome back, my grandson.” Merletoph’s voice rumbled against his ear as it echoed through his chest. “Get some more rest if you can. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

Apparently, he was exhausted enough to heed Merletoph’s advice. Within seconds, he was back under, breathing in time with the rise and fall of his grandfather’s chest. 

The journey was designed to be as simple and succinct as possible. It was already proving to be less than so. They hadn’t expected there to be so many humans left in town still (Timpani had assured them that she’d tried to convince as many as possible to leave, including her own aunt and uncle), and even though they didn’t pay the group much attention, Blumiere couldn’t help but huddle deeper into the hood of his cloak every time one of them passed by. He’d tied a scarf around the lower half of his face, so the only portion of his blue skin left visible was the narrow strip of his eyes, but he couldn’t be too careful.

Kathleen was leading the group, taking them to their first and only stop: Ronan’s house. She’d changed out of her dress and into more fitting traveling attire: slacks and a high-collared tunic. She had her sword strapped to her hip, means of self-defense if it was necessary. Ronan, who was convinced he could walk on his own, had been persuaded to walk next to Kathleen, hold onto her hand, and to tell someone if he was feeling unwell. Once he was safely in the care of his grandmother, the whole group would breathe easier. 

Behind Kathleen, Timpani walked the streets with confidence. Blumiere stayed close behind her, trying to sap some of her strength, but he still flinched every time another human got too close. He kept his gaze trained on the heels of Timpani’s boots and prayed to the stars that he would make it out of this alive. 

Mimi would occasionally skip into view on his left side, despite Merletoph’s efforts to keep her from wandering too far. She was currently in disguise as Ronan’s twin (Mio, she’d called herself), though Merletoph had made her promise to change back immediately after they were safely away from town. 

“When will he wake up?” Mimi asked. Even her voice sounded identical to Ronan’s, save for the accent. 

Merletoph’s low voice replied, “When he is ready.”

They’d found Dimentio laying in the grass just outside of Merletoph’s house. Timpani had been the first to notice; she’d returned to her post by the door after Ronan had been caught up to speed. 

“Why’s he laying out there?” Timpani had asked. “He can teleport, can’t he?”

After that, Merletoph had gone out to his grandson’s rescue. He hadn’t let go of him since. 

None of them knew what had happened to him between the time Blumiere left him on the butte and his arrival outside of Merletoph’s house. But one thing was clear: the boy couldn’t use any of his magic. Merletoph wanted him to sleep for as long as he could, and Blumiere agreed that they should let him rest, but if Dimentio had information that would be vital to their escape plan, they’d need to know as soon as possible. 

A human woman came too close to his right side, spiking his heart rate up. He’d just gotten his breathing back down to normal, too. She stopped, turning directly toward him, and Blumiere had to swallow back a gasp. He tried to make the turning of his head as inconspicuous as possible. 

“Is he sick?” The woman asked, and it took Blumiere at least five seconds to realize she wasn’t speaking to, or about, him.

“He is just tired,” Merletoph said. “We have a long journey ahead of us, so he is resting while he can.”

The woman hefted a traveling bag higher up on her shoulder. “We’ve all got a journey to make, what with those demons on the hill getting violent again. My family and I are traveling tomorrow morning. We’ve just got to make sure we have enough food, first.” She laughed the kind of laugh that was devoid of humor, rimmed with shame, and cracked with pride. 

Blumiere held his own bag closer. He’d been tasked with carrying their food supplies, which was well-stocked, even for the six of them traveling to The Gateway. Of course, it contained rations enough for several days if they couldn’t find an inhabitable world in which to buy more food, but Blumiere couldn’t help but wonder if they had any to spare for this woman and her family.

Alas, she was moving on before he could say anything. He shook his head, trying to assure himself that he wouldn’t be able to offer anything to her without her trying to get a closer look at him. That was a risk they simply couldn’t take. 

When they finally made it to the other side of town and stepped into the cool shade of the forest, Blumiere felt like he could breathe properly again. Their small traveling group followed the thin trail toward Ronan and Kathleen’s houses, finally speaking to one another in voices above a whisper. 

“Yeh’re sure I can’t come with yeh?” Ronan asked, tugging at Kathleen’s arm. 

“Yes,” she replied, good-natured for a question she’d probably answered before. “When I come back for yeh, we’ll go on our own adventure. You, me, and yer Nanna. We’ll find someplace nice to live.”

“Are we gon’ teh go to The Gateway, too?”

“Yes, when it’s safer.”

Blumiere jolted when he felt something touching his hand, only to clear his throat in embarrassment when he realized it was Timpani. She laced her fingers in between his, giving him a soft smile that made his heart flutter. 

“Can you believe it?” Her blue eyes shone with adventurous excitement. “Tonight we’ll be traveling to a completely different world. And who knows what it’ll be like!”

With his free hand, he tugged the scarf away from his mouth. They were far enough away from town that he felt safe revealing a bit more of his face. “Wherever we go, it will be better than here,” he said, returning her smile. “Somewhere people don’t know who I am, or what I am. Somewhere we can love each other freely.”

Timpani’s smile grew into a grin. “We’ll find it. Together.”

“And to think you insisted on staying here.”

She gave him a playful nudge with her shoulder. “Well, it’s going to be hard to leave my family behind. But, if it’s not safe here, not safe for us …” She leaned in to give Blumiere a kiss on the cheek. “At least I get to go on the journey of a lifetime with the man I love.”

“Oh, Timpani.”

“Yes?”

“You…” The proper words wouldn’t align with his feelings, so he said, “You just make me happy.”

She smirked in a poking-fun kind of way and said, “You make me happy too, Blumiere.”

In front of them, Kathleen and Ronan suddenly skidded to a halt. Kathleen gasped and Ronan whispered, “Who is that?”

Blumiere dared to look for the ‘who’ they were speaking about. In the distance, leaning against Ronan’s house, was a human boy. He looked to be about 15 or 16 years old, and his head was slumped against his chest like he was sleeping, or— 

Quickly covering his face with the scarf again, Blumiere let go of Timpani’s hand and followed Kathleen as she and Ronan began running toward the figure. 

Ronan, despite his condition and his promises to Kathleen, broke free from the young woman and stomped inside his house, yelling, “Nanna! Nanna!”

Timpani and Kathleen were examining the human boy while Merletoph hung back with Blumiere, Dimentio still fast asleep in his arms. Mimi had the sense to stay by Merletoph’s side, knowing what problems might arise if Ronan’s Nanna were to see her with her current appearance. 

“‘E’s alive,” Kathleen said, and Merletoph nodded as if he already knew that. “Out cold, and a bit bruised. But breathin’ fine.”

“I recognize him.” Timpani shifted so she could get a closer look, brushing some of the boy’s long, dark hair away from his eyes. “I’ve seen him in town. I don’t know his name, but I think his father is a Trader.”

“What’s ‘e doing out here alone, then?”

Ronan burst out of the house before anyone had the chance to think of an answer. His face was scrunched like he was trying not to cry. “It’s Nanna,” he whimpered, “she’s gone!”

Chapter Text

Remember

Episode Seven: Countdown

Chapter Two

Timpani watched as Kathleen rose to console Ronan, draping her arm around the boy’s shoulder as he tried not to cry. “We’ll find ‘er, lad,” she said. “She’s probably out lookin’ for you right now.”

“But, but look,” Ronan tugged Kathleen toward the house. “All our stuff is gone!”

Timpani furrowed her brow, coming up with a few reasons why someone would break into his Nanna’s house; none of them good. As Ronan convinced Kathleen to look inside the house with him, she turned her attention back to the young teen on the ground in front of her, who stirred at the noise. She tensed, wondering if this boy’s first instinct would be to attack her. With Blumiere hiding his face and Merletoph still carrying Dimentio, she wouldn’t have much in the way of backup if the mystery boy turned aggressive. 

His eyes fluttered open. A deep blue gaze half-squinted by a bruised cheek peered up at her, staring for a few seconds before he processed his surroundings. Then, with a choked grunt, he scrambled backward, met the wall behind him, and threw his hands in front of his face. 

“I didn’t take anything!” He yelled, his obstinate tone contrasted by the way he cowered behind his hands. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Timpani saw Blumiere moving forward. She shook her head at him, trying to subtly keep him out of the boy’s view. He raised his eyebrows and stepped back, but still looked ready to pounce the moment things took a bad turn. Timpani hoped, for the boy’s sake, that Blumiere wouldn’t have to resort to defending her. As much as she loved Blumiere, she couldn’t vouch for his magic as an effective measure of defense against a child.

Timpani decided she would have to be stern. “What are you doing outside of this house?” She asked. “It’s not yours.”

The boy scoffed. “I’m not doing anything. Like I said, I didn’t take anything, either.”

“Someone did.”

“Yeah, well,” The boy lowered his hands so he could glare at her. “It was all gone by the time I got here.”

“So you went inside?” Timpani tried to hold back a smirk. 

He met her smirk with a scowl. “I was just—” He turned his head away, displaying the bruise on his cheek. “...just looking for some food, okay?”

Timpani tried her best to recall if she’d seen the boy’s father on the battlefield before she asked her next question. “Your father is a Trader, right? Why aren’t you with him?”

Shoulders slumping, the boy fell silent. His face twitched with an emotion Timpani couldn’t quite read. Anger? Fear? She waited, patiently, for him to answer her question, and after a few more seconds, he did.

“They left. We were supposed to leave early this morning, to, you know, escape. But when I woke up, they were already gone. So, I don’t know. They never told me where we were going, either.”

Kathleen and Ronan reemerged from the house before he could say anything else. Timpani stood, keeping an eye on the dark-haired boy.

“The ‘ouse is nearly empty,” Kathleen reported. “No sign of ‘is Nanna, no sign of a struggle, either.” She caught sight of the boy, who watched her with narrowed eyes. “Ah. ‘E’s awake.”

“He went inside the house,” Timpani said.

“What?!” Ronan stomped over to the boy. “Yeh went in me ‘ouse?”

“I didn’t take anything!” The boy rose to his feet as well, and both Timpani and Kathleen moved to a more defensive position. “I went...I was looking for food, but there wasn’t any, and besides...”

“Besides what?” Kathleen prompted. 

Timpani noted the shudder that shook the boy’s shoulders. “Well, there was a chain chomp.”

“Onyx!” Ronan interjected. 

“It...chased me outside. If I hadn’t been surprised I would’ve gotten away, but it grabbed my foot. I fell. Knocked me out, I guess.”

“And you’re sure you didn’t take anything,” Timpani said, putting on her stern face again.

“Yes! Well—” He suddenly scoffed, lowering his head and crossing his arms. “Well, okay. I did take one thing. Here.” Reaching into the pocket of his breeches, he withdrew a small piece of paper and handed it to Ronan, who snatched it away from him. “I was looking at it when the chain chomp came in.”

Kathleen leaned over his shoulder to help him read it. “It’s from yer Nanna,” she said. “She’s on ‘er way to Lyfell, it seems. That’s about a three-day journey from ‘ere.”

“She left?” Ronan hung his head in dismay. “Why’d she leave without us?”

“She—” Kathleen sucked in a breath as she kept reading. “Oh. Someone told ‘er we died.”

“But we didn’t,” Ronan said matter-of-factly. “We’re not dead.”

“But you did disappear for three days,” Timpani murmured. “After you were sent to attack the castle with the others.”

“But we’re not.” Ronan’s lips trembled into a frown. 

Kathleen put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright,” she said, “yer Nanna left us a note. That means she believes we might be still alive. We can go find ‘er, once we bring our friends to The Gateway.”

Ronan’s eyes lit up. “That means I get teh come with you?”

“We must hurry,” Merletoph said from where he’d been quietly observing the scene. “We are already short on time. And if we are adding one more to the traveling group, we will have to account for that, as well.”

“Wait,” Timpani interjected, “what about him?” She gestured to the dark-haired boy, who looked away with a huff. “His parents are missing. We can’t just leave him here.”

“I’m fine—”

“You got attacked by a chain chomp while scavenging for food,” Timpani snapped. “You’re not fine.”

In her fussing over the stubborn teenager, Timpani failed to notice Blumiere approaching. She exhaled a panicked breath as she saw his face, unobscured by his cloak, set with confidence. He knelt down next to the boy, who kicked his legs to scramble away. His back pressed against the wall of the house. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Blumiere said. Slowly, he slid his bag off of his shoulder and opened it, removing a roll of bread and two pears. He held them out to the boy. “Here. We can do without these. Stay here, where it’s safe.” 

Despite his horrified expression, the boy eagerly took the food, apparently too hungry to care where it came from. 

“Kathleen,” Blumiere continued, “when you return with Ronan to find his grandmother, would you take him with you? Perhaps his parents escaped to the same town she did.”

Kathleen nodded. “We can do that.”

“Why are you helping me?” The boy burst out, already two mouthfuls of bread into the roll. “I thought you hated humans!”

“My family does,” Blumiere sighed. “I’m very sorry for what we’ve done to you and your town. We’re really not so different from each other. We’ve all got hearts and souls, even if we look and behave a little different.” Timpani caught Blumiere’s gaze for a moment as he smiled at her before turning back to the boy. “And...anyone with a heart would not ignore an injured soul.”

Timpani’s own heart flooded with warmth at Blumiere’s words. Pride for the young man made her eyes well up with tears. She put a hand on his shoulder.

The expression on the dark-haired boy’s face wavered into indifference. He kept his gaze trained on Blumiere as he munched the bread with trepidation.

“What’s your name?” Timpani asked, hoping to put him more at ease. 

The dusty-blue eyes flicked to Timpani for a moment. “Alexander.”

“I’m Timpani. I own the flower shop in town. You might’ve seen me before.”

Alexander nodded. “I recognize you.”

Timpani quickly introduced the others, ending with Blumiere. 

 “Blumiere?” Alexander’s mouth twitched into a smile.

Blumiere cleared his throat, a dark purple blush coloring his cheeks. “Yes, yes, it’s terribly ironic, I know.”

“Blumiere, Timpani,” Merletoph’s urgent voice cut through the conversation. “Really, we must be going. If Alexander is staying here, let’s make sure he’s got what he needs to stay safe. Quickly, so we can get moving.”

Timpani softened her gaze and offered Alexander a smile. “Do you trust us?”

The boy grimaced as he looked between Timpani and Blumiere, contemplating his options. Slowly, his shoulders relaxed, and he exhaled. “Yes. I trust you.”

“Wait!” Ronan said. “One more thing before we go!” He dashed through the front door of his house, appearing a few moments later with a gnarled bone pocked with bite-marks. “Give this to Onyx if ‘e comes back.” Ronan held the bone out to Alexander, who raised an eyebrow at it. “Otherwise ‘e might try teh attack you again.” 

Alexander took the bone and held it at arm’s length as if it might try to attack him. “Eh. Thank you,” he mumbled. 

“Onyx is a great chain chomp. ‘E’ll protect you.” Ronan put his hands on his hips and surveyed Alexander with contemplative eyes. “I think it’ll be fun teh travel with yeh. I think we’ll be friends!”

A smile graced Alexander’s lips. “Yes,” he said, “I think so, too.”

“He’s not here.”

Aldrik softened his expression at his brother’s pitiful statement, hiding his own irritation. They’d been searching for almost two hours, and they’d found nothing more than the trace of Blumiere’s signature. It had completely faded now, painted over by the signatures of the rest of the Tribe as they teleported around the area. 

“No. It would appear not.”

He bit his tongue. He knew he was running out of time, and a small part of him wanted to tell Basile everything right now, to ask his brother for the crown again. Maybe, that small part hoped, maybe Basile would be desperate enough this time to give in. The Voice curled itself away in the recesses of his mind, having gracefully left him alone for now, so Aldrik didn’t even have a second opinion to argue with.

If The Voice was counting exactly twenty years, he had less than a week to become king. He had his heir, whether or not Dimentio complied. He needed the crown. If it came down to it, he would have to kill Basile. He’d have to kill Remi, and possibly Lucienne, too, leaving him the only one left of his generation, and the only possible candidate for the crown. 

I won’t, he decided. I’ll speak to Basile when we have a moment to ourselves.

The rest of the Tribe had ceased their search and gathered nearby while Basile addressed them. 

“Blumiere must have fled elsewhere. We...must find him and bring him home.” Basile’s voice crackled with weariness and defeat. “You are...free to return to the castle, but…” Aldrik saw the way Basile straightened up, drawing his shoulders back to smother his brokenness. “Keep your mind open for any trace of his signature. Alert me immediately if you feel it.”

“You should be the first to feel it, father,” Basile’s oldest son, Abany, said. He didn’t even try to conceal the mocking in his tone, but he vanished before Basile could respond. The others teleported away shortly after, each offering no more than a slight acknowledgment to their king. 

When he and Basile were the only ones left, Aldrik sighed. “That wasn’t very eloquent.”

The look in Basile’s eyes alone allowed Aldrik to predict the fist that flew toward his face. He sidestepped with ease, pushing Basile’s arm aside with one hand. 

“I don’t want to hear this from you, Aldrik!” Basile’s mouth twisted into a snarl. “I’d like to see you try to be king of this dying Tribe!”

Aldrik had never heard a more straightforward invitation.

“They won’t listen. They have no reason to. Even while my son is missing, they—”

“Basile,” he cut in, clapping his hand onto his brother’s shoulder. “Take a breath. If I had the means to lift this burden off of you, would you allow me to?” A gust of wind carried the scent of pine to the top of the butte, ruffling Basile’s slicked-back hair.

Pride hardened Basile’s stare for only a moment before it melted into something like resignation. “If you had the means to bring my son back home safely, I would allow it.” A bit of steel returned to his gaze as he said, “Why, have you done something with him? Were you involved in his escape again?” Then, a look of recognition. “We would have felt Blumiere’s signature again if he’d teleported somewhere else. You cloaked it again, didn’t you?”

He hadn’t, but Dimentio had already made his presence known to enough people. “I did.”

“That’s why you...were here before me…”

Aldrik always enjoyed watching the gears turn in Basile’s head. Unfortunately, this time they were turning for the wrong reasons. Aldrik strove to get them back on track. “I can tell you where he went. But I need a little something from you, brother.”

Basile’s eyebrows arched in a desperate look so unbefitting of a king. “What do you want?”

Aldrik eyed the metal adornment on his brother’s head. “The crown, Basile.”

He could have laughed at the bafflement on Basile’s face. “The crown? Aldrik, you have no wife, no heirs...you aren’t even the next in line! You nearly get my son killed and you want the crown ?”

“You’d like to see me try to be king of our dying Tribe. You said it yourself.”

“ I was—! ”

“I know, I know. But trust me, Basile, I have something you never managed to get your hands on. Something that makes me far fitter for the throne than you ever have been. The Dark Prognosticus. It speaks to me.” 

Basile shook his head, and even though Basile had never believed him before, Aldrik could barely contain his disappointment. “I would be a fool to believe that, brother. I know the Dark Prognosticus has not left its place in my chambers since I became King.” 

“It didn’t have to.” 

“You have nothing, Aldrik. You will never be king.” 

The words stung like salt on a fresh wound. After he’d tried so hard to be alert and of his own mind during this conversation, Aldrik knew he had no choice but to give his brother proof of his word. With a measured sigh and a pang of dread, he closed his eyes and invited The Voice to the forefront of his mind. It crept in like a mischievous child into a room full of precious ceramics, but the power that came with it offered the effect he needed. He opened his eyes and watched the blood drain from his brother’s face. The gears were turning again. Tick, tick, tick.

“You…”

“Aha ha ha. Yes. Me. The Dark Prognosticus chose me! I should be king, brother! ME! ”

Basile’s chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. He took a few steps backward, never taking his eyes off of Aldrik. “You’re insane. You...all along, you...”

Spurred on by The Voice, Aldrik seized Basile’s arm before he could escape. Basile’s gasp cut off as his body froze. 

Cursing under his breath, Aldrik wasted no time placing his thumbs over his brother’s temples. He’d have to make this quick, and perhaps try again immediately. He should have taken more time to convince Basile he had the Prognosticus before— 

Aldrik’s breath hitched as he met Basile’s gaze. The memory-wipe spell throbbed in his fingertips, but he allowed it to dissipate, burning as it traveled back up his arms. 

In every rendition of this conversation, Basile would always fight him to the end. His eyes would burn bright with fury, confidence, or indignation. 

These were the eyes of a man who had given up.

As Aldrik let out a breath, Basile worked his mouth to form words, a slow, broken sentence that Aldrik had been hoping to hear his entire life. 

“Very...well, Al...drik. The crown...is yours.”

When Dimentio woke up, it was just past 9 o’clock in the morning. His head was still cradled against Merletoph’s chest, and they were walking faster than they had been earlier. He cracked his eyes open. They must have been outside of town because he didn’t recognize the scenery. They’d already burned three out of twelve hours they had before Blumiere’s signature uncloaked. He only hoped they were far enough along to make it to the Dimensional Gateway in the next nine and a half hours. 

With a jolt, he remembered his escape from the castle and, before that, his encounter with his father.

Merletoph’s voice rumbled over him. “You are awake. Good, I don’t think my back could handle carrying you any further,” he said with a good-natured laugh.

“Father’s coming,” Dimentio said, with none of his usual pomp and an involuntary twinge of urgency. “How far are we? Can we go faster?”

“Gracious stars, child. One thing at a time.” Merletoph shifted him in his arms. “Slow down. Your father has not been following us.”

“He will be,” Dimentio pressed. “He knows where we’re going. He knows about all of you, and he’s going to kill you.” He squashed down the emotions fluttering in his chest and took a deep breath. “Aha. If we don’t hurry, none of us will make it.”

“What?” Mimi’s squeaky voice came from below him. “Who’s gonna kill us?” Her question carried a wave of panic up through the rest of the group, and soon they’d come to a complete halt, circled around Merletoph. 

Dimentio wriggled until Merletoph set him down on the ground. He took a moment to gain his balance on his feet, and then he walked to the center of the circle and addressed the whole group. 

“My father took away my magic,” he started. “All of it. He was only supposed to take my signature, but he took it all. He also…” Dimentio swallowed, keeping his expression carefully neutral. He cursed himself for leaving his mask behind on the castle’s roof. “He knows where we’re going. And he knows you’ve seen my face, so… he’s going to try to kill you.”

“You led him right to us?” Timpani took a step toward him. 

Dimentio choked out a laugh. “Aha! No, of course not. I led him away from us. Well, unless he knows where the Gateway is, aha, in which case—”

“This isn’t funny!” Had Blumiere not held her back, Dimentio suspected the woman might have actually lashed out at him. 

“Dimentio,” Merletoph’s voice rumbled behind him, a welcome calm amidst the tension, “please cut to the chaste and tell us the truth. Are we in danger?”

“Yes.”

Timpani’s frown deepened. Kathleen huddled Ronan a little closer to her. Dimentio hadn’t noticed him until then, but he took note of the fact that the boy had not been left behind as planned. 

“How long do we have until your father finds us?” Merletoph had placed a hand on his shoulder, but Dimentio couldn’t find comfort in the gesture.

“I don’t know. He will probably search the butte for a while longer with the rest of the Tribe, but once he realizes we’re not there, he will look elsewhere. Like I said, if he knows where this world’s Dimensional Gateway is, he’ll likely be waiting for us by the time we get there.”

“We will have to hurry.” Merletoph looked at Kathleen. “How far would you say we have to go?”

“If I remember right, we’re only about a quarter of the way there. We ‘ave maybe eight hours left teh go.”

“We have about nine hours until Blumiere’s signature uncloaks,” Dimentio said. “I thought that would be the only thing we had to worry about. But if we’re going to get there before my father, we’ll have to get there soon. If I had to guess, I’d say he could find the right place in two hours. If he already knows, he’ll be there in less than one.”

“Two hours?” Timpani shook her head. “We could never get there that fast.”

Blumiere raised an eyebrow. “If I knew where it was, I could teleport there. Since my signature’s cloaked, it wouldn’t be detected.”

“Aha!” Dimentio jumped up, expecting to shoot into the air, but the effect was severely lessened due to his inability to fly. “We could teleport in smaller jumps—Kathleen!”

Kathleen flinched, bewilderment popping into her expression. “Uh. Yeah?”

“You could point Blumiere in the right direction! He could teleport to the furthest point on the horizon in that direction, and we’d repeat from there! Aha ha ha~! It’s the same way I found the butte yesterday!”

Blumiere rubbed his hands together. “You want me to teleport the whole group?! I’ve never even teleported one other person with me before, but,” he did a quick count, “six? I don’t think I can.”

“I can teleport too,” Merletoph said. “I will take half of the group, and you can take the other half, Blumiere.” 

“Merletoph can take three, and you can take two,” Dimentio agreed. “It’s only two people. It’s not hard. You could even take the two kids if you wanted.”

“You’re a kid, too!” Mimi proclaimed, and Ronan backed her up with a nod.

Dimentio didn’t have time to argue. “Can you at least try, Blumiere?”

With some hesitation, Blumiere nodded. “I’ll try.” Next to him, Timpani looked skeptical. Dimentio disliked her, but he decided he would try to be nice to her for now, if only to show Merletoph that he could.

“Right, then,” Kathleen pointed to a spot along the horizon. “It’s tha’ way.”

After some discussion, Blumiere decided to take Timpani (who refused to leave his side) and Dimentio (who could guide him if something went wrong). That left Merletoph with Kathleen, Mimi, and Ronan. 

During the few seconds spent in the white-void, Dimentio relished the look of terror on Timpani’s face. 

From their new location, the full extent of the mountain range that made up their home could be seen. In front of them were foothills and, further in the distance, a thick forest. 

“That was…’orrible,” Kathleen said as Merletoph’s group landed on the other side of the teleport. Ronan shared similar sentiments. 

“It didn’t get any better the second time,” Timpani admitted. “Do we really have to travel the whole way like this?”

“Would you rather die?” Dimentio asked, and once again Timpani’s expression amused him. She had quite a range of faces. 

“There’s something wrong with you.”

“Aha. More than you could know.”

Merletoph shot both of them a frustrated glance, and Dimentio put on his ‘polite’ mask. Inwardly, he felt his stomach twist at his grandfather’s disappointment. 

“Kathleen,” Merletoph said with pointed urgency, “would you please guide us to the next location?” 

They were able to make several more jumps, but after the sixth relocation, Dimentio felt Blumiere collapse next to him. He held both Timpani’s and Dimentio’s hands, so they both went down with him, landing in a heap on a bit of rocky earth. 

“Blumiere?!” Timpani had pushed herself up almost instantly to check over him. Dimentio rolled over with a groan, once again lamenting his lack of magic. 

Merletoph helped Timpani prop Blumiere up in a sitting position, but neither of them helped Dimentio. 

“I’m sorry,” Blumiere gasped, “I don’t know what happened.”

“You’re using too much energy,” Dimentio said. “If you were better practiced, you would know how to streamline it better.”

“You’re not helping,” Timpani snapped.

“Neither are you.”

“ Dimentio .” Merletoph left Blumiere’s side and approached him. Dimentio flinched away as Merletoph extended a hand, but he only used it to help Dimentio to his feet. “Why don’t we have a talk while Blumiere rests a bit?”

As Merletoph led Dimentio away, he caught sight of Mimi, laughing and whispering to Ronan. 

A low, flat rock rested far enough away from the group that they were out of earshot, but close enough that they could still monitor the others from afar. Dimentio sat down on the rock, his face carefully set and without emotion. Merletoph sat beside him with a grunt. 

They were silent for a few seconds. Dimentio stared straight ahead, bracing himself for yelling or scolding. He didn’t think Merletoph the kind of man to strike a child, but his skin prickled in anticipation anyway. 

“Breathe, Dimentio.”

“I am.” Admittedly, his quick-paced breaths betrayed his underlying anxiety, but he was breathing. 

“Deeper. Use your breaths to calm your soul. The breath is just as essential to your soul as blood is to your body.”

He tried. He inhaled, as slowly as he could manage, and held it for a few seconds before releasing, letting the air escape unhindered.

“Try again. Follow my lead.”

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. The silence fell again, more comfortable this time, and though Dimentio felt the edge of his trepidation soften, he could not shake the feeling that he was about to be lectured.

A warm, gentle hand touched his shoulder. “Are you alright, Dimentio?”

The absurdity of the question alone broke Dimentio’s resolve. He turned his head, his eyebrows raising as he took in Merletoph’s expression, finding sincerity in his eyes.

Opening his mouth to respond, Dimentio found himself halting as he actually thought about the question. Was he alright? His gaze found the ground again as he hesitated too long and Merletoph pulled him closer, wrapping his arm around Dimentio’s shoulders. 

“It is okay to say no,” Merletoph said. “These past few days have been quite difficult for you, I’m sure. I am very proud of how far you’ve grown in such a short time.”

Inhale. Exhale. Dimentio offered a single nod. It wasn’t like him to be quiet, but he couldn’t think of a good response for Merletoph. He couldn’t even answer it for himself. He was still stuck on are you alright? 

“When your father took your magic away,” Merletoph continued on, not leaving Dimentio much time to think, “did he hurt you?”

Subconsciously, he touched the sensitive skin on his wrist, rubbing his thumb lightly over the wounded veins. “No more than usual.”

Merletoph made a low humming noise. “Will it all come back tonight at seven o’clock?”

His heart skipped a beat. Not because he worried about his magic not coming back, but because he remembered that, if all of his magic did come back, it would be the first time in his life that he would have a soul signature. He would be alive. He’d exist.

For some reason, he wasn’t sure if he really wanted that. Merletoph was still waiting for an answer, so he shrugged. 

“You are about to leave your father for the rest of your life,” Merletoph said, his tone gaining a firm seriousness. “Are you alright with that?”

“I don’t like talking about this,” Dimentio decided, puffing out his breath on an exhale.

“Very well. We can talk about something else.” Merletoph kept his arm around Dimentio, holding him close. Imprisoning him. “Is there something on your mind?”

Dimentio sighed. “I don’t like Timpani.”

To his surprise, Merletoph laughed. “Yes, I saw the two of you butting heads.”

“She’s not nice. She doesn’t trust me, and she’s...strange when she’s around Blumiere.”

Merletoph’s chuckles gained mirth, rumbling through his chest as his shoulders shook. “I won’t attempt to explain that last part to you, my boy. But I can see that she struggles to know what to say when she is around you. You will simply have to take some time to get to know each other.”

“Do I have to try and be nice to her? Even if she’s mean to me?” Dimentio leaned forward, resting his head on his palms. It was tiring even to hold himself upright. 

Merletoph’s hand slid down to rest on his back, lightly grazing over the hole in his poncho. Neither of them mentioned its presence. “I have told this to Mimi several times before: ‘Kindness yields the sweetness of friendship. Anger yields only what is bitter.’ It would do you well to remember this proverb.”

“But what if I’m nice to her and we never become friends?”

“Well,” Merletoph smiled, “that would be no fault of your own. But Timpani is a smart woman. She will come around.”

Kindness yields the sweetness of friendship… Dimentio thought of his father. Did he have any friends? 

Anger yields only what is bitter. Yes, he could see that. His relationship with his father was about as bitter as relationships could get. His father was angry all the time, but Dimentio had never been kind to him. Could he have made things better if he’d been kind to his father? If he’d known how? Maybe he was at fault for his father’s anger.

“You exist for one purpose. And you will fulfill it.”

A wave of tiredness fell over him, dragging at his limbs. He was about to leave his father, and everything he’d ever known behind. He was going to be someone, and he would have to choose to be kind, or angry, or something else entirely. Leaning into Merletoph, his eyes drooped closed. He breathed in time to the rise and fall of his grandfather’s chest.

“You exist for one purpose.” Inhale.

“You exist…” Exhale.

I will exist.

As his mind drifted off, Dimentio finally came across the answer to Merletoph’s first question. 

He wasn’t alright. No, he was terrified.

Chapter Text

Remember

Episode Seven: Countdown

Chapter Three

The sight of the chained Dark Prognosticus sent shivers down Aldrik's spine. The Voice squirmed at the forefront of his mind, as if to coax him closer to the book. It thrilled him, standing so close to it, with his brother awake and willing to let him touch it. His fingers brushed the blue gem centered in its cover, trailed past the dark leather, and landed on the golden shackles that held the tome to its pedestal. Energy pulsed under his touch like a heartbeat.

"What...what will you do with the Prognosticus, when you have unlocked it?" Aldrik barely recognized the halting, uncertain voice as his brother's.

"I will use its power to better our Tribe. To make it stronger. I will succeed where you have failed, Basile."

"And...that is what it wants?"

The Voice shifted in the back of Aldrik's mind. Fear flashed across his chest and bled into his expression. He turned his face away from Basile. "It will do what I want it to. I control it, not the other way around."

Basile's hesitation made his doubt evident. His eyes narrowed. "Will this destroy you, brother? Tell me the truth."

A dark laugh echoed through his mind's chasms.

"No."

With slow, trembling hands, Basile reached up to touch the crown adorning his head. The twisted gold and black metal sought purchase on his slicked hair as he pulled it away from his skull. A pair of spiraling shapes reminiscent of eyes served as the crown's centerpiece. Smaller ellipsoids crossed with jagged, thorny protrusions formed the rest of the crown, braided into a circle broken only by the space between the two eyes. The thorns scratched along Aldrik's scalp as Basile placed the crown on his head.

"Use this power only to better the tribe, brother. Do not let it consume you further."

Aldrik straightened. "I will take those words as a suggestion, brother, seeing as you are no longer my king." His fingers searched the back of the crown for the loose thorn. He removed it with the tinny rasp of metal-on-metal. Aldrik's hands shook and the tome thrummed with power as he inserted the key into the padlocks holding down the Prognosticus.

"Don't forget your promise to help me find my son!"

Basile's voice drowned in a roar of magical energy as Aldrik grasped the Dark Prognosticus with both hands, pulling it from its pedestal. The energy rolled over Aldrik as he opened the book, revealing pages that had been closed for nearly fifty years. His muscles tensed, his hands gripping the binding, refusing to let it go. Thousands of voices passed through his mind, screaming, whispering, chanting. And beyond them, The Voice.

"Dost thou bind thyself with thy blood and makest thyself a vessel of chaos?"

Before Aldrik could answer, the Dark Prognosticus ripped from his hands and hurtled toward the wall, where it thumped to the floor, unharmed and closed tightly. Aldrik crumpled to the floor as well, catching himself with his forearms. The tang of blood seeped past his lip and onto his tongue.

"Aldrik!" Basile's hand grasped his arm, pulling him back onto his feet. "What happened? Are you alright?"

Aldrik's head lolled to the side as he struggled to maintain his balance. It felt like bits of his own life force had scattered, and now his body was trying to reel them back in, piece by piece. He forced his hand up to his mouth and wiped away the blood that trickled down from his nose.

"Are you alright?" Basile repeated.

The Voice returned, bringing with it a wave of nausea.

"What makes you think you are worthy to glimpse my prophecies?"

"I did everything you asked!" Adrik's voice echoed through the small chamber, raw with emotion. "I am worthy!"

Basile said something, but his words fell unheard as The Voice's cackle struck the sensitive walls of Aldrik's mind.

"Fool! Your heir draws nearer to the light every moment! He will never be fit to be my vessel!"

"I will force him into the darkness!"

The Voice continued its laughter. Aldrik clutched his head with one hand, the other tucked against Basile as his brother held onto him, keeping him upright. The thorns of the crown dug into Aldrik's palm as he could no longer hold back a scream.

"Aldrik! ...Aldrik!"

Basile's voice finally broke through the clamor, and the entity in Aldrik's head retreated with a final laugh. He leaned his full weight on Basile, his eyes pressed shut against the lingering headache.

"Aldrik? Speak to me. What did the book do to you?"

Taking in deep, methodical breaths, Aldrik calmed the fear that sparkled through him like lightning. He willed his limbs to cooperate. Easing himself out of Basile's grasp, he stood on his own feet and attempted to appear stable.

"It only gifted me more of its power, Basile. Now then, shall we go find Blumiere?"

Basile nodded, but his eyes narrowed with wariness. "If you are able."

"I am." Aldrik held out his hand, inviting his brother to take it. Basile touched trembling fingertips to Aldrik's palm, but Aldrik shifted his grip so his thumb pressed over Basile's wrist. "I will have to take your signature, brother. If Blumiere knows where you are, we'll never find him." Before he could object, Aldrik shot the spell into his brother's bloodstream.

The dimensional fabric around them warped and shimmered as they disappeared. Behind the podium, the Dark Prognosticus lay unchained.

"Wake up, Dimentio. We must keep moving."

Dimentio resisted his grandfather's attempt to pick him up, mumbling, "I'm awake."

Together, they returned to the rest of the group. Blumiere was on his feet now, stretching his arms. Dimentio avoided making eye-contact. He didn't really want to talk to anyone right now, and he certainly didn't want to invite conversation about why Merletoph had taken him aside.

"How are you feeling, Blumiere? Are you up for more teleportation?" Merletoph asked. Dimentio shuffled closer to the sage, trying to hide from the curious stare of Mimi.

"I think I can manage a few more jumps. But, I was wondering," Blumiere stepped forward and knelt in front of Dimentio, "would you be able to teach me to streamline my teleportation? You mentioned earlier that I was using up too much energy."

Dimentio spared a glance at his cousin. "It's not something you can learn immediately. You would have to practice, and if you took the time to practice right now, it would be too late."

"Alright." Blumiere nodded.

"Why don't you just tell him? Maybe he'll figure it out," Timpani said. "If it could possibly help us right now, you should tell him."

"I can't just tell him," Dimentio said.

Kathleen spoke up, breaking Timpani's frustrated silence. "If I 'ad teh guess, I'd say we 'ave t'ree or four more movements before we get there. Can yeh do it, Blumiere?"

"I will take Dimentio," Merletoph said. "It will be more manageable for you to move just Timpani and yourself."

Blumiere nodded. "Yes, okay."

With a slow exhale, Dimentio returned his gaze to the ground. If he hadn't upset his father, he would still have his magic, and he could be helping right now. If he had been more careful, his father wouldn't be following them, and they wouldn't have to teleport at all. The others were counting on him. He should have tried harder.

Merletoph's hand rested on top of his head. Tilting back to meet his grandfather's eyes, Dimentio met with a warm smile. "Remember to breathe deeply, my grandson," he said. "It will soothe your soul."

Aldrik pulled Basile through a series of dimensional jumps. He picked the highest points of the mountains that surrounded the path to the Dimensional Gateway, hoping to catch a glimpse of travelers below.

If Blumiere and his rag-tag group of runaways were following any particular path, Aldrik guessed it would be similar to the route he and Sha'i discovered. In their own search for The Gateway, their journey had been highlighted with excited conversations of roaming the stars together, raising a family, forgetting their past. He'd been foolishly in love then, hopelessly certain he would escape the claws of The Voice.

Now, those memories only reminded him of the mistakes he'd made, the bitterness that followed denying one's destiny. He still paid for those years of weakness, paid for them every time The Voice reminded him he was less than worthy.

There.

The next clifftop brought a view of rolling hills. A speckling of dark shapes among the tall grass indicated a group of travelers.

"Is that…?"

Aldrik nodded before Basile could go on. "I'll take us closer. Don't make a sound."

"Wait—" Before Basile could finish, Aldrik initiated another teleport.

From their next vantage point, Aldrik glimpsed a bit of blue skin. There stood Blumiere, partially leaning on the human woman he'd fallen in love with. Aldrik held a hand out as he crouched in the grass, preventing Basile from making his move too soon.

His arm froze mid-reach as his gaze caught sight of a small child with dark brown hair. Aldrik couldn't make out any facial features, but the beige-and-purple poncho hanging over the child's shoulders was unmistakable.

And behind him, Merletoph, the reason for his son's straying toward the light, reached out to touch the top of Dimentio's head.

Blumiere stretched his aching arms over his head, preparing himself for the next leg of their journey. With only Timpani to worry about now, he was more confident in his ability to make the rest of the teleportation jumps.

After finding the spot along the horizon that Kathleen indicated, he laced his fingers in between Timpani's and gave her a small smile.

"Ready for the next jump?"

"Are you?" She asked, leaning into him gently.

"I have to be." Next to him, Merletoph nodded, surrounded by the rest of the group. Blumiere felt a pang of guilt for forcing the old man to transport so many extra people, but Merletoph didn't appear phased by the jumps they'd made so far. As he disappeared, Blumiere wondered about what Dimentio said. He needed to find a way to streamline his energy.

"Let me try something," he began, pulling Timpani a little closer. "Dimentio said I needed to streamline my magic. Maybe there's some way I can pull us both through together, like I'm moving one soul instead of two."

Timpani opened her mouth to say something, but all that left her lips was a startled gasp. Her eyes trained on something behind Blumiere, filled with such fear that the hairs on the back of Blumiere's neck raised in anticipation.

"Blumiere, wait."

His body tensed, his hands trembling in Timpani's grasp. His father's voice penetrated his skull, ringing in his ears.

No...how could he have found us here?

Timpani, defiant as always, leaned around Blumiere and shouted, "Leave us alone! Blumiere is not coming back!" To Blumiere, she whispered, "Please, my darling, you have to move us."

Blumiere couldn't move, not even to look back at his father. He blinked, pressing his eyelids together hard to try and wake himself up. His mind was stuck in a loop.

"Don't touch him, you filthy human! If it weren't for you and your stubborn kind, none of this would have happened!" Basile's voice shook with raw emotion. It fell to a murmur, crackling with grief as he said, "Blumiere, please. Come home with me. I can't lose you. I don't want to lose you."

Dimentio knew something was wrong as soon as Merletoph brought them out of the teleport. While the other passengers staggered yet again, he searched the sky, looking for the source of the prickling in his skin. When he turned around, he met his father's cold, blue-eyed stare, causing a ripple of chills to scamper down his spine. Calculations stirred behind those eyes. Dimentio assumed he was trying to figure out how he'd escaped. Dimentio still wondered how he'd done it himself.

A glint of metal drew Dimentio's eyes to the new accessory on his father's head. The crown? Why is father wearing Basile's crown?

"Stay back," Merletoph warned. Dimentio couldn't tell if the words were meant for him or for Aldrik. Either way, he backed up closer to his grandfather. Without thinking, he reached for Merletoph's hand and found it already extended toward him.

"So," Aldrik said, not breaking eye-contact with Dimentio, "you found your way back to your friends."

Merletoph gave Dimentio's hand a gentle squeeze. "Kathleen," he said, keeping his voice level, "take the children away from here."

Aldrik's gaze drifted to the other three. He lingered on Mimi for a moment but made no move to stop them. His eyes rested again on Dimentio, sharp with scrutiny. "You disobeyed me."

A flinch jerked its way through Dimentio's shoulders. "Aha ha. Yes, I did."

"I won't let you escape, boy. Your purpose is to stay on this world, at my side."

"You do not have to listen to him, my grandson," Merletoph said in a slow, soothing voice. "The choice is still yours. If you wish to return to your father, you have the right to make that choice for yourself. I will not stop you."

Dimentio only watched as his father moved his hands, signing out two silent sentences.

You are mine. There is no choice.

Timpani released an unrequited glare at the man who'd dropped her off a cliff and promised her a fate worse than death should they ever meet again. In spite of this, when it came to Blumiere's defense, Timpani found nothing but courage.

"He doesn't want to live with you anymore," she snapped, stepping around Blumiere. He still hadn't moved, and Timpani brushed one of her hands against his in an attempt to calm him. "Let us go. We won't trouble you any longer if you just let us leave this world."

Basile scoffed and narrowed his eyes. His teeth flashed as he barked, "Let him go? After all I've done to protect him, do you really think I'd let him go because some wretch of a human wants to take him away?" He took a step toward her. A spark of fear ignited underneath Timpani's courage.

"He'll be happier away from here. Isn't that what you want? For—" she cut off with a shaky gasp as he stepped forward again and then continued in a quieter voice. "For him to be happy?"

She flinched away as Basile closed the gap between them, snagging her by the wrist and yanking her away from Blumiere. She yelped and twisted her arm, trying to get free. "No! Blumiere, help! Help me!"

Relief flooded through her as she saw Blumiere turn around to face his father at last.

"Father, let her go," he said, steady despite his horror-stricken expression.

Timpani barely heard him. Pain sped down her arm, pooling in her shoulder and crashing a wave of nausea over the rest of her body. The mage's next words pounded through her head.

"If you do not return home, Blumiere, I will kill her."

Aldrik fought with every fiber of his free-will to keep The Voice shoved away in the back of his mind. He felt it slithering forward, trying to take control of him, to make him slip up so Dimentio would escape. Rage seethed through his veins as he stared at Merletoph. He knew the sage was at fault for his son's escape, for tainting his heir's mind with delusions of light. The Ancient should have stayed in his invisible hut to rot with the rest of his forsaken tribe.

"Dimentio must not be manipulated," the old man had the gall to demand. "He must make the decision for himself, or his condition will destabilize. His fate is in his own hands."

"Silence!" Aldrik swept his arm in front of him, gathering up a swath of dark magic as he did so. It crackled on his fingertips, gathering in a mass centered in his palm. An ache quivered in his muscles as the spell pulled blood from his heart to his hand. "Your Ancient stars and cryptic fates have forgotten you. Join your ancestors in the land beyond the sky!"

The sparking orb tore itself from his fingers with a jolt as it hurtled toward Merletoph. The sage clenched his jaw and stood firm.

But Dimentio moved.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Ex—

Dimentio's breath escaped in a gasp as his father drew his hand through the air. He could feel the energy the spell was consuming, he knew exactly how much damage this would do to someone. And yet, his feet automatically jerked forward, putting himself in between the orb and Merletoph.

But Merletoph would not allow it. With a strength that Dimentio couldn't resist, he pulled his grandson back and turned around, hunching protectively around Dimentio with his back to the spell.

Inhale. Exhale.

The spell never hit its mark. Instead, the ground disappeared as they crossed into the white void, reappearing moments later on the other side of Aldrik. Dimentio stared up at his father's back, any attempt at breathing exercises replaced by ragged panting.

Before Aldrik could react, he was struck in the back by an orb of light that shot out of Merletoph's outstretched hand. Aldrik stumbled forward from the impact, but as far as Dimentio could tell, no real damage had been done.

Undeterred, Merletoph took aim again, this time catching Aldrik in the shoulder as he turned around. Dimentio caught sight of a ripple in the air near the site of the impact.

"He's being protected!" Dimentio yelled, tugging on Merletoph's arm. "Stop trying! He'll kill you!"

Merletoph's golden stare still said you have to choose, but thankfully, he seemed to agree there were more pressing matters at the moment. His next teleport took them around a jutting group of rocks, where Kathleen was huddled with Mimi and Ronan.

"Where's Blue?" Ronan asked, jumping to his feet. "An' Miss Lady Timpani?"

Dimentio had no answer for them. In truth, he'd been so disturbed by the appearance of his father he hadn't noticed their absence.

"They never made it to this location," Merletoph supplied. "Something must have happened before they could teleport."

"I pray 'twas only Blumiere catchin' 'is breath," Kathleen whispered.

"Father, please." Cold fear curdled in Blumiere's stomach as he watched the magic spell infect Timpani's blood. "You're hurting her. She's done nothing wrong."

"She has infected your mind with foolish ideals. She wants to take you away from this world, Blumiere! Away from me!" Basile tightened his grip on Timpani's wrist. Her whimper cut like a blade across Blumiere's chest.

"I don't want to be around you anymore, father!" He tried not to notice the grimace that colored Basile's face. "You're obsessed with control! You can't dictate everything I do anymore. I may be your son, but I am my own person. I want to go with her. I want to go away from you!"

Timpani's body dropped to the ground at Basile's feet. Blumiere stepped in her direction, hand still outstretched.

"I gave the crown to Aldrik."

Blumiere froze.

"In exchange for his help in finding you, I gave him the crown. I'm no longer king, Blumiere. I am only your father. And I wish to care for you as such."

Reeling, Blumiere drew his hand back toward his chest, cradling it over his heart. "No… Oh, no...You gave up the crown?" Clenching his teeth, Blumiere swallowed his fear and forced himself to don some of Timpani's courage. "How could you have done that? What will become of the Tribe now?"

"I did it for you, Blumiere! You are all that matters to me."

Blumiere shook his head slowly. "You shouldn't have done that, father." With a deep breath to steel himself, he launched himself forward, diving for Timpani's body. As soon as he made contact with her, he teleported them both in the direction Kathleen had pointed to earlier.

They landed sprawled in the grass. Blumiere pushed himself up immediately and was about to help Timpani when he noticed another figure looming in the distance.

Aldrik.

"Blumiere! Quickly, we have to go!" He spotted Merletoph nearby, and he half-dragged Timpani over to where they were hiding behind some rocks. Kathleen was on her feet, alert and pointing.

"It's tha' way. Hurry! We're almost there!"

Head spinning, Blumiere hoisted Timpani up, slinging her uninjured arm over his shoulder, and set his jaw. He had no choice but to push himself through another teleport.

Merletoph emerged from the white void onto coarse soil shadowed by a sheer foothill. The dark mouth of a cave drew his gaze, but he turned his attention back to his dimensional passengers. After counting and recounting heads, he glanced over his shoulder, watching for Blumiere and Timpani. Poking out of the long grass, a meager stone announced:

TALANTON GATEWAY

OUR SOULS BID YOU WELL

REMEMBER OUR WORLD FONDLY

MAY YOUR NEXT BE JUST AS HOMELY

"It really is the Dimensional Gateway," Dimentio said. Merletoph held onto the boy's hand, wishing to keep him close. Dimentio's heartbeat thrummed in the tips of his fingers.

We are almost there. Merletoph wished the realization could bring him more comfort, but Blumiere and Timpani hadn't arrived yet.

The couple finally appeared, several meters from the cave entrance. Timpani leaned heavily on Blumiere, who struggled to move them forward. Merletoph took a step in their direction, and his concern increased exponentially when he noticed a second dimensional ripple deposit Basile directly behind Blumiere.

"Look out!" Merletoph's free hand shot out, flinging a glowing orb at Basile. It caught him in the shoulder just as he grabbed Timpani's arm. Basile let go of the woman and staggered backward, but his contact with Timpani dislodged her from Blumiere's shoulder. She crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Merletoph ran toward them, throwing another orb Basile's way. This time it struck Basile in the chest, flinging him back another step. Sensing an opening, Merletoph halted, drew a breath, and raised both arms above his head. A clear yellow box encased Basile, halting his movement as he lunged for Timpani. Merletoph exhaled and a series of explosions filled the box with fire and smoke. Basile emerged from a teleport just outside of the box, smoking from the hems of his robes.

Before Merletoph could try again, Basile dragged Timpani off of the ground and away from Blumiere. "You have ten minutes to come home, Blumiere," Basile said, a frantic edge to his demand. "If you have not arrived, I will kill this human myself."

Then, Basile vanished, taking Timpani with him.

"No!" Blumiere rushed to the place they'd just been, reaching through thin air as if to grasp some of Timpani's essence. "No! No, Timpani!" The young man turned desperate eyes on Merletoph. "What are we going to do?"

Merletoph drew a breath to ground himself. He reached for Dimentio's hand, realizing he'd let go of the boy while casting his spell, but his hand glided through empty space.

"Dimentio?"

He hadn't left Merletoph's side since their conversation earlier. But I took my eyes off of him for two seconds...

No. Whipping around, Merletoph scoured the area for any sign of Dimentio. The farewell message inscribed on the stone seemed to taunt Merletoph as he searched every scrawny bush and crevice.

Behind him, Blumiere repeated his question. "What are we going to do?"

Merletoph let out a slow, strained breath before he replied, "Whatever it takes."

Chapter Text

Remember

Episode Eight: Proof of Existence

Chapter One

“Where are you going, brother?”

Aldrik spun around, surprised to find Basile standing a few paces behind him. He backed away from the wall he’d been pressed against, putting on his most inconspicuous expression. 

“I wanted to talk to Father about something.”

Basile’s head tilted to the side as he blinked, one eyebrow raised slightly. “Father’s asleep. And so should you be.”

“Well, shouldn’t you be sleeping, too?”

“No,” Basile smirked. “I’m old enough to go to bed whenever I want. And I’m not tired yet. But it’s past your bedtime, little brother.”

Aldrik wanted to comply. But just as he stepped toward his brother, a sudden pain afflicted his head. 

“Get rid of him. You should not have allowed yourself to be seen, child.”

He startled, still not used to the presence of The Voice. Basile, taking notice of this, knelt down next to his brother and drew him into his arms. “What’s wrong, Ali? Did you have a nightmare before? Father’s probably fast asleep, but you can tell me about it if you want.”

With a half-restrained whimper, Aldrik wrapped his arms around his older brother, squeezing his eyes shut as The Voice repeated, “Get rid of him!”

“Come on, let’s go to my room,” Basile offered. He lifted Aldrik off of the ground and carried him away from his father’s chambers, and the Dark Prognosticus. The Voice thrashed about more violently the further away they got.

“Wait!” Aldrik gasped, “Stop, Basile. I have to go back. I have to talk to Father!”

“He’ll be angry if you wake him up,” Basile warned, but his words faded out as The Voice raged once more.

“Find the book, you foolish child! Get rid of this boy and go!”

“No!” Aldrik wailed, his voice echoing off the empty black halls of the castle. “I don’t want to!”

The Voice rattled through the chambers of his mind, expanding until his head felt as though it might burst. He pressed his hands over his ears as it spoke again. “You will obey me.” His vision faded, and the next thing he knew, he was sobbing, cradled in Basile’s lap as the older boy sat against the hallway’s wall. 

“Ali? Are you okay?” Basile’s concerned voice washed over him, helping to smooth out his panicked breaths. “You passed out. You scared me”

Aldrik curled inward, burying his face in his brother’s chest. Though six years separated them, Aldrik felt closest to his oldest brother, and he was grateful for his presence now. The Voice, it seemed, had returned to wherever it lived when it wasn’t speaking to him. 

“I’m...okay,” Aldrik said, his voice still quivering with sobs.

“Do you mind telling me what that was all about? All of that screaming?”

Clutching a fistful of Basile’s shirt, Aldrik hesitated. He’d never told anyone about The Voice before. It never let him. But it was gone now…

“There’s a—a voice,” he said, a mere whisper that floated past his lips. “It talks to me. It told me to—” he hiccuped, sniffling back more tears— “to get rid of you.”

“What?” Basile shifted, bringing a hand up to stroke Aldrik’s hair. “What voice? What do you mean?”

Aldrik took in a few deep breaths, each one failing to reach its full capacity before it was sputtered back out again. “I think it’s the...the Dark Prognosticus.”

Silence fell like a suffocating blanket over the hallway. The Voice’s presence seeped back into Aldrik’s mind, but it too stayed silent, as if waiting to see Basile’s response. 

“You think the Dark Prognosticus is speaking to you?” The words came out incredulous and harsh, causing Aldrik to flinch. “That’s impossible. It hasn’t spoken to anyone since Henri died, and I’m the one who gets to be king now that he’s dead. If anything, it should be speaking to me!”

“I’m sorry.” The apology crept its way out of Aldrik’s mouth. “I-I don’t want it to talk to me. It just does.”

“That’s not fair!” Basile pushed Aldrik away from his chest, just hard enough that Aldrik stumbled onto the cold tile floor. “What did you do to deserve the Dark Prognosticus’ power?”

Aldrik opened his mouth to speak, but The Voice flooded his senses, demanding, “Get up, child, and do as I show you.” 

And then, to Aldrik’s horror, his limbs moved of their own accord. He stood, stepping over to where Basile sat. His arms lifted, hands reaching for Basile’s head. His thumbs pressed over his brother’s temples as he watched with wide eyes.

“What are you—?”

Aldrik’s arms jerked as a spell pulsed out of his fingertips, directly into Basile’s skull. His voice choked mid-sentence and ended in a scream. 

Basile’s memories flashed through Aldrik’s mind. The entirety of the past three minutes played in reverse, each moment bubbling away as it passed, leaving Aldrik staring through his brother’s eyes at his own figure leaning against the wall outside their father’s room. Then his vision went dark and his hands broke free from Basile’s temples as the spell ended. He blinked until he could see through his own eyes again. The Voice’s hold on his muscles relaxed. 

Once he regained control, Aldrik scrambled backward, landing with a gasp on his backside. He peered up at Basile. The older boy groaned as if waking from sleep, rubbing at his eyes. Blinking in confusion, Basile met Aldrik’s gaze and frowned. “Ali? What are you doing awake? It’s past your bedtime.”

Aldrik launched himself to his feet, staring at Basile for only a moment before he spun on his heel and ran.

With every ounce of strength he had left, Dimentio thrashed and writhed to free himself from the hands imprisoning him. One clamped tightly over his mouth, preventing any noise from escaping and restricting his breathing. The other wrapped snug around his middle, pressing him back into what could only be his father’s chest.

His foot struck Aldrik’s leg and the hands finally let go and tossed him onto the ground. The impact knocked his breath away. 

He recognized the room as Basile’s. It was much larger than Aldrik’s room but had the same octagonal shape. A cluttered desk to his left and a neatly-made bed to his right were among the only pieces of furniture. Why his father had brought him here instead of his own chambers, Dimentio couldn’t guess, but it did appear as though they were alone for the time being.

“You will not move an inch, do you hear me?” Aldrik hissed. “Hide yourself. Now. Basile can’t see you yet.”

“You took my magic,” Dimentio reminded him. “I can’t turn invisible. I can’t do anything .”

Aldrik spat out a curse, his eyes searching frantically for an alternative. They landed directly behind Dimentio: on Basile’s wardrobe. 

“In here.” He threw the door open and grabbed Dimentio by the arm, dragging him inside the wooden closet. There was just enough space for him to curl up among the clothing inside. “Don’t make a sound,” Aldrik said. Then, the door shut, encasing Dimentio in complete darkness. Memories of meals alone in the pitch black of his father’s wardrobe swarmed his mind. His breath quickened. At least then, he’d been able to hover away from the floor and the walls and pretend he was floating anywhere else.

The sound of a struggle outside the wardrobe reached his ears.

“Let go of me...let—let go !” Timpani’s voice pitched higher, ending in a pained gasp.

“Why did you bring the human? Where is Blumiere?”

“He’ll come for her. I know he will.”

Aldrik’s frustrated growl made Dimentio’s heart pound. “Well? Where did you intend to keep her?”

“When did you intend to tell me there were Ancients living in the humans’ town?”

Scuffling noises followed by a cry of pain from Basile wafted through the wardrobe’s door. Dimentio shifted slightly during the clamor, hoping the sound would mask any sign of his movement. Pressing his ear against the wood, he strained to hear more clearly.

“Wretch!” spat Basile, and Timpani let out another gasp. The tips of Dimentio’s fingers pulsed, and though he had no magic to use at the moment, his blood still longed to create a spell. 

A frantic knocking broke up whatever fight was happening on the other side of the wardrobe door, and Dimentio heard a new voice, one he recognized as his aunt Lucienne’s. 

“King Basile! Come quickly! There’s someone just outside, and I think...I think he may be an Ancient!”

Silence pounded through the room, pressing in on Dimentio and making the darkness of the wardrobe sink darker. An Ancient? Did she mean Merletoph? Had he come to save them? Dread squeezed his stomach. As much as he wanted to see his grandfather again, he knew what grave danger the sage was in, just stepping foot on the Tribe’s property. He longed to warn Merletoph, but Basile spoke something in such a whisper that Dimentio couldn’t quite hear it, and he was drawn back to the moment at hand.

His muscles ached as he held his position, every ounce of energy dedicated to hearing the conversation. His father’s muted words barely reached his ears.

“Stay. I will earn my position as king.”

Clothing rustled, followed by a muffled noise from Timpani further left than she’d been before. The bedroom door opened. 

“Peace, Lucienne. I will protect the Tribe.”

Lucienne’s gasp rang clear in Dimentio’s ears. “Aldrik? What are you doing here? Why—”

The door closed, cutting off the conversation. 

Dimentio closed his eyes and thought of Merletoph. His grandfather’s soul signature answered from right outside the castle, burning bright yellow. 

Blumiere followed Kathleen through the dark tunnel, one hand on the wall for guidance. Mimi held his other hand, abnormally subdued. Her feet dragged in the loose sand. She looked up at Blumiere from time to time as if to ask him a question, but nothing ever made it past her lips.

After a bit of travel, a blue glow ghosted the tunnel. A small, circular room came into view. On the opposite wall was an arched doorway with two magnificent doors. Intricate designs traced the metal of the doors, accompanied by an inscription in a language long forgotten. The blue glow bounced about the stone walls as if the whole room were submerged underwater.

“This is it,” Kathleen said. 

“It’s a room,” Mimi said, tugging on Blumiere’s arm to get a closer look. “What’s back there?”

“The Gateway.” Kathleen slumped to sit against the rock wall. “It’s not really a room. Tha’ door leads to another dimension.”

“Will we go in once Papa gets back?” Mimi asked.

Kathleen shared a glance with Blumiere. “Once we ‘ave everyone back, yes. We all ‘ave teh go in at th’ same time.”

“Or someone might get left behind,” Ronan said. 

Blumiere’s mind drifted once again to Timpani. I won’t leave her behind, he thought. His hands fidgeted restlessly. 

Kathleen tilted her head in Blumiere’s direction. “‘Ow are yeh feelin’?”

He answered with a frown. 

“I mean—with your teleportin’ and the like. ‘Ow soon ‘til yeh’ll be able teh go?”

Blumiere took a deep breath. “Soon.” In all honesty, he didn’t know how well he could manage one teleport right now, let alone two. 

“I hope Papa’s okay,” Mimi said. She twirled a bit of hair with her finger, her face scrunched with uncertainty.

Regretting his decision to go along with Merletoph’s plan more and more, Blumiere bit his lip. “I hope so, too,” he said. 

“‘E’s real strong,” Ronan said. “I’m sure ‘e’ll make it back.”

He needs to make it back, Blumiere realized. Too many of us are relying on him. We can’t make this journey without him.

Pushing away from the wall, Blumiere stood as steadily as he could manage and said, “I’m ready.”

“Yeh’re sure?” Kathleen raised her eyebrows in concern.

“Yes. I can’t afford to wait any longer.” Blumiere pressed a hand over his heart, getting a feel for the strength behind its beat. It will have to be enough. “It won’t take me long. I’ll go in, and as soon as I find them, I’ll bring us right back.”

“What about Papa?”

Blumiere held back a grimace. “He said he would know when to return. Try not to worry, Mimi.” Not the most encouraging words he could offer, but Blumiere lacked courage himself at the moment.

“Stay safe,” Kathleen said. Her words did not betray the fear present in her eyes. 

With a single nod, Blumiere mustered the strength he needed for his first teleport.

Merletoph’s forehead creased as he observed the carnage outside the tribe’s castle. The humans who attacked the Tribe of Darkness had failed. He hadn’t expected them to win, but the sight of their mangled bodies solidified just how outmatched they’d been. White bone jutted out of blackened flesh, creating unrecognizable, foul-smelling corpses. With a hand stretched out toward the nearest mound, he closed his eyes and muttered a prayer to the stars and the beings who lived beyond them. 

A pillar of fire centered on the body rose to the sky, blazing a sun-fuelled yellow. A similar spout of flame erupted from the next corpse, and the next, until a semi-circular wall of fire surrounded the entrance to the castle. It was far from a proper burial, but it was better than leaving them to rot at the top of the hill.

Now, would it be enough to draw the tribe members out of the castle?

Movement in one of the barred windows caught his eye. A hint of black hair whisked out of sight. Inhaling slowly, Merletoph set his stance and waited. He released his breath in methodical intervals, searching outward for any signs of soul signatures. Dimentio’s signature remained hidden from him. Timpani’s soul was out of range. The only presence Merletoph could sense belonged to the Dark Prognosticus.

When his breath ran out, he waited five seconds before drawing another, using the stronger beats of his oxygen-starved heart to spread a glowing shield over his skin. 

It took longer than he expected for the tribe to send their combatant. Merletoph further steadied his breathing as he locked eyes with the man his daughter had fallen in love with. He considered the possibility that Aldrik had never loved Sha’i, let the anger rise, and drew it away to be used later. 

“You finally decided to come out of hiding?” Aldrik strode away from the castle’s doors, planting himself in the middle of the clearing on top of the hill. “Do you really think you stand a chance against me?”

Merletoph set his gaze, meeting Aldrik’s proud sunrise-stare with indifference. “If this was a battle I thought I could win, I would have come a long time ago. But you have taken someone very important to me, against his will. And his life is more important than mine.”

“Dimentio’s life is nothing more than a tool for the Dark Prognosticus’ power. He is fit to be a vessel, nothing more.”

“You have never given him the chance to live !” Merletoph flung his arms out to the sides, summoning two more columns of flame, one on each side of Aldrik. They pressed closer, but never touched his skin. 

“He doesn’t need to live. He doesn’t even need to exist.” Aldrik stepped directly through one of the fiery pillars. It glanced off of him, spiraling away in a purple mist. “You shouldn’t be living either, old sage. Haven’t you overstayed your welcome on this stars-forsaken world?”

“I was just leaving,” Merletoph spat, tapping into the anger that ebbed and flowed through him. “And I will be taking my grandson with me!” With a wave of his hand, Merletoph summoned a magical cube, similar to the barrier that protected his house. The cube encased Aldrik, dimming his image behind a yellow shimmer. Merletoph pursed his fingers and snapped them, but from the smug look on Aldrik’s face, he knew the spell wouldn’t harm him. 

As explosions of fire filled the cube, Aldrik braced himself against the glassy walls, basking in the flames before teleporting on top of the glassy box. 

“Impressive. Is this what you Ancients are capable of?” He stepped off of the cube and dropped down to hover a few inches above the ground, robes billowing around his feet. “I expected your sacred stars would give you more power than that.” 

With a sharp breath, Merletoph teleported out of the way of a barrage of black orbs. He used the height of the cube to his advantage and reappeared above Aldrik’s head. A projectile flew from his hand and cut through empty air. 

“It’s no wonder your Tribe was destroyed.” 

A kick to the back of his knees sent Merletoph hurtling over the edge of the box. He landed on his stomach. The breath stored in his lungs escaped on a gasp, taking with it the preparations for his next spell. Above him, the crystal box faded.

Merletoph pushed up with his forearms, then grunted as an orb struck the back of his skull. His protective spell prevented it from penetrating his skin, but the force knocked his head into the dirt. 

“It’s about time you joined them.” 

A claw-like hand hoisted Merletoph up by the back of his robes. Merletoph grabbed the hand with one of his own, heating the tips of his fingers with a warm exhale. Aldrik’s grip did not falter.

Merletoph teleported himself behind Aldrik the moment his feet touched the ground and sent another pillar of flame into the sky. If nothing else, at least the flames would block Aldrik’s vision while Merletoph put more distance between them with another teleport. After the strain of yet another trip through the white void, Merletoph landed on unsteady feet. In the time it took for him to regain his balance, Aldrik appeared directly in front of him. A night-colored fist connected with Merletoph’s jaw, jostling him sideways. Aldrik followed up with a knee to Merletoph’s sternum, sending him to the ground in a crumpled heap.

As Merletoph coughed out a breath, Aldrik strode out of his line of sight. The shimmering barrier protecting Merletoph’s skin flickered, on the verge of uselessness. He needed to move, to do something, even if that only meant surviving long enough for Dimentio and Timpani to escape. 

Having regained control of his breathing, Merletoph forced himself to sit up. Next to the charred remains of a body nearby, Aldrik stooped to retrieve a long, metal pole from the ground. Merletoph recognized it as one of the torches from Tiede’s summer festival. In the hands of a warrior, it functioned as a weapon.

Merletoph breathed a wave of calm over his anticipation as he stood. He’d prepared himself to die, but the prospect of being beaten to death brought about an icy shiver. Aldrik shifted the pole in his hands as if getting a feel for its weight. His red eyes bored a hole right through Merletoph as he grinned.

Aldrik disappeared. Merletoph teleported five steps backward and watched as Aldrik swung the metal rod through the space he’d just been. Merletoph initiated another teleport and then another, moving about from place to place in an attempt to throw Aldrik off. Each jump drained a little more energy from Merletoph’s soul. Aldrik diligently followed one step behind, hot on his trail. 

Lungs aching, Merletoph spent just a second too long in between teleports. Aldrik landed next to Merletoph like a chain chomp pouncing on its prey, the blow that struck Merletoph akin to a massive body crushing him from above. Merletoph fell hard, the impact relieving his lungs of any remaining air. Aldrik swung again, striking Merletoph’s right shoulder. He rolled to the side, hoping to lessen the blow, but the metal pole pounded right against the bone of his shoulder. He splayed out, unmoving, unable to avoid the next impact. As the pole struck his spine, so too did his protective barrier shatter.

Aldrik released a simpering bout of laughter. With one foot, he rolled Merletoph onto his back again. Merletoph crossed his arms over his face in order to bare his heart, a silent plea for a merciful kill.

The final blow did not come. Instead, Aldrik grabbed one of Merletoph’s elbows and wrested it away from his face. Merletoph lashed out, pushing away with his hands and pressing searing fingers into any flesh he could touch. Against his will, he jerked into a sitting position, his face close enough to Aldrik’s to feel the warmth of the man’s breath. 

“I thought killing you would be the best way to remove you from my path,” Aldrik said, “but I’ve just thought of something even better.” 

A sluggish cold seeped into Merletoph’s veins from a vulnerable point on his wrist. It locked up his muscles, rapidly spreading from his arms to his toes. Only his eyes were still able to move. He kept them trained on Aldrik. 

Slowly, Aldrik raised his hands to either side of Merletoph’s skull, placing one thumb over each temple. A grin broke through his lips as he said, “It would be a shame if you forgot all about your grandson, wouldn’t it? About your daughter, and your precious stars? Merlumio once asked you to join the Tribe of Darkness, did he not? Perhaps, if you were to be asked the question a second time, you would give the right answer.” His thumbs dug in deep. “In fact, I’m sure of it.”

And then, a terrible agony ripped through Merletoph’s skull, as if his very soul was being excavated piece by piece.

Chapter Text

Remember

Episode Eight: Proof of Existence

Chapter Two

“Stay put, will you? You’re not going anywhere.”

Dimentio released some of his focus on Merletoph in order to listen to Basile and Timpani’s conversation. He leaned closer to the door of the wardrobe so he could hear properly. His heart skipped a beat as he nearly lost his balance; he caught himself, but his hand made a light thud as it moved positions on the floor of the wardrobe. Heart pounding, he waited to see if he’d been discovered. 

“Stop moving! Do you want to die faster?”

Dimentio exhaled. Remembering Merletoph’s breathing exercises, he tried to take a slower inhale but gave up after his blood protested the lack of oxygen. 

“The Ancients are coming to destroy you. You’ve been ruining this world for far too long.” Though her voice trembled, Dimentio admired the confidence behind Timpani’s lie. 

“They were supposed to be dead.” Basile sighed. “You should be dead. Were it not for Blumiere’s attachment to you, I would have killed you twice over.”

Basile and Timpani were in the far left corner of the room, Dimentio surmised. With Timpani occupying Basile, he was likely facing away from the wardrobe. If he could get the door open without making a sound, an escape might be possible.

But could he leave Timpani?

“I hope he doesn’t come for me,” Timpani’s voice rang with melancholic resolve, such that Dimentio couldn’t tell if she was lying. “I want him to be happy. If he comes back for me, he’ll be forced to live with an overbearing father for the rest of his life—” her statement cut off with a gasp and the sharp sound of flesh striking flesh.

“Say another word, and your life ends here!”

Slowly, Dimentio raised his hand, feeling through the darkness for something he could use as a weapon. He didn’t have much going for him in the way of physical strength, but a well-aimed blow over the head might be able to knock Basile out. He grazed past the thick cloth and made contact with a hard piece of wood separate from the wardrobe’s walls. Further inspection revealed a short wooden pole spanning one half of the wardrobe. Hangers crowded the length of it, but the clothing felt light. Experimentally, Dimentio lifted up a hanger. He removed it from the wooden pole easily and set it on the floor of the wardrobe without a sound.

“You think taking him away from here will protect him? He’ll suffer in every world you drag him to.”

Clearing the pole of the rest of its hangers, Dimentio maneuvered it away from the hooks that held it in place. Once the weight of the pole was entirely in Dimentio’s hands, it swayed downward slightly. He hadn’t expected it to be so heavy.

Thunk.

The pole collided with the wardrobe wall. Dimentio held his breath, but as soon as he heard Basile moving, he knew he had to act fast. Gripping the pole like a club, he drove his shoulder into the wardrobe door. It swung open, giving him just enough time to jump out and face Basile before the man opened the door himself. 

...He’s too tall.

Dimentio made a swing for Basile’s stomach, and though it made contact, he suffered the blow silently and knocked the pole away. It twisted out of his grip and clattered to the floor. Basile grabbed him by the wrist before he could dive after it and hefted Dimentio up by the arm. Dimentio’s feet barely lifted off the ground before Basile stopped; the wound in his shoulder caused his grip to tremble. The smell of smoke met Dimentio’s nose, followed by the distinct odor of burned flesh.

“What are you doing in my wardrobe?”

“Playing hide and seek,” Dimentio declared, choosing the first lie that came to mind. “I was winning until you found me, aha ha.” He wriggled a little bit, trying to relieve some of the tension in his shoulder. 

Basile ignored his ploy. His misty gaze flicked from one of Dimentio’s eyes to the other. As Dimentio glanced to the side to avoid prolonged eye contact, he caught sight of Timpani moving, one hand outstretched. The wooden pole lay just outside of her grasp.

A gasp jumped from Dimentio’s throat as an intense tingling sensation afflicted the wrist Basile had him hung by. Liquid dripped down his arm: a failed contact-magic spell leaking from Basile’s fingertips.

There, around his wrist, Dimentio caught sight of a familiar shimmer.

Then Basile let go with a grunt and teetered back a step. “You’re Aldrik’s? ”

Dimentio landed on his feet, but he lost his footing and fell, catching himself on the floor with his hands. Jarring pain flashed up his arms. As he jerked his hands away from the floor, he watched Timpani push herself slowly to her feet. Hoping to distract Basile, he made a show of cowering beneath his hands and scooting away. His back met with the frame of Basile’s bed. 

“How long has he—?” Basile knelt down with a grimace, investigating Dimento with his eyes. “Are you human? You are Aldrik’s son, aren’t you?”

He had the overwhelming desire to say no, and for it to be the truth. Instead, he replied, “Why, do I look like him?”

“No,” Basile said after a moment of thought, and Dimentio felt a rush of relief at the answer. “You look like a human .” He said the word with a snarl, reaching out to grab Dimentio by the arm. 

Dimentio saw Timpani raise the rod above her head just before a solid crack split the air. Basile slumped forward, his face hitting the ground next to Dimentio’s feet. Above him, Timpani staggered and the wooden rod clunked to the floor. Shoulders slumping, she eyed Dimentio with the slightest glint of mistrust. 

“Are you alright?”

He almost laughed. “I’m—” With a lack of coordination, he scrambled to his feet and gave Basile’s body a wide berth as he stepped around it. “What about you? Are you alright?”

A stuttering side-step answered for her. “My arm...I don’t know what he did to me, but it’s spreading. And it—it hurts.”

“Just like Kathleen,” Dimentio said as Timpani sat against the wardrobe. “He put magic in your bloodstream. It will kill you if it’s not purified or removed.”

She glared up at him. “You always say the most morbid things as if they’re nothing,” she said. “Why don’t you just go? Go find Blumiere and escape, just keep him safe.”

“No.” The word surprised him as it flew from his mouth. “I won’t leave you. We all have to escape together. It wouldn’t be nice to leave you behind to die.”

A moment of silence passed between them. Timpani bowed her head, mulling over something as Dimentio shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Merletoph said you healed Kathleen,” she whispered.

Dimentio nodded. “I removed the spell from her blood.”

“But you still don’t have your magic.”

“Correct.”

“Well, then what are you going to do?” Timpani’s gaze passed over Basile’s body. “It’s only a matter of time before he wakes up. And if you waste time getting me out of here, the others might get hurt. You should just… Woah.”

Dimentio followed Timpani’s stare to the window above Basile’s bed. A yellow glow brightened the sky; a moment later a wave of heat wafted into the room.

“Merletoph…” Dimentio wrapped his arms around himself as his grandfather’s signature pulsed in the back of his mind.

“He’s right outside the castle,” Timpani said. 

“Merletoph would be able to heal you.” Dimentio’s throat constricted, straining his voice. “I...I don’t know how.”

“He said you wanted to learn the magic of The Ancients, right? Did he ever get the chance to teach you anything?”

Dimentio sat on the ground, staring anxiously out the window. “No. He tried, but…” He swallowed back the emotion trying to squirm out of him. “I failed, aha. I almost made it worse.” His breath shook as he exhaled, but it reminded him, “He did teach me a breathing exercise. I’m not very good at it.”

Inhale. Exhale.

“It should be easy.”

Inhale. Exhale.

What was it Merletoph had said?

Inhale. The breath is just as essential to your soul as blood is to your body. Exhale.

“Breath, soul, blood, body,” he muttered.

“What?” Timpani leaned closer, rubbing at her purple-veined shoulder. 

“Remember to breathe deeply: it will soothe your soul.” Do I have a soul? It’s been hidden my whole life; is it even there? Do I have a soul to strengthen?

Inhale. Exhale.

It must be inside of him somewhere. Buried deep underneath eight years of cloaking spells. But he had a soul, otherwise, there would be no reason to cloak it, right?

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. 

With each breath, Merletoph’s soul sharpened in his mind. He could clearly see his grandfather step forward, raise his arms, and widen his stance. The edges of his soul tinged orange. Dimentio felt the anger that pulsed from Merletoph’s core.

“He’s using magic,” he mumbled, closing his eyes so he could better focus. “He’s fighting. He must be fighting my father.”

“Do you think he’ll win?” Timpani sounded uncertain. 

Dimentio drew a calculated inhale, willing his nerves to stay calm. “I don’t know.”

“You should go. You’re running out of time.”

The exhale warmed Dimentio’s knees as he curled forward. “No. I’m going to try and heal you.”

Inhale. He pushed himself sideways, sliding over so he was sitting by Timpani’s wounded arm. Exhale. He placed his hands on her wrist.

Immediately, he could feel the pulsing of her blood, but he pushed past that, searching deeper for the source. Her heart, the organ responsible for cycling the blood, hadn’t yet been tainted by the spell. 

Blood and body. Breath and soul.

“Breathe deep,” Dimentio instructed. “Slow. Just like me.”

Contact magic requires two pulses to beat at the same time.

He slowed his breathing further, matching his inhales and exhales with Timpani. She stared at him, eyes glazed. Dimentio stared back, searching.

Where is her soul?

Merletoph’s bright orange faded into the background. Dimentio strained his mind, staring through Timpani’s blue eyes into the space beyond.

There.

A faint, pale shape, barely formed. A human soul, Dimentio imagined, with no magic to tame it. Purple veins crackled through it, much like the veins on her arm. 

Timpani must have felt the connection; her shoulders flinched. Dimentio didn’t break eye contact.

Pressing inward, he zeroed in on the struggling blotch of life. With each inhale, the purple lines lifted, but with each exhale they regained their hold. He slowed his breathing and felt Timpani doing the same. 

Is it working? The lines drew further away with every breath, diluting as if they were being washed out. One final inhale, and they dissipated from Dimentio’s view of Timpani’s soul. The next exhale, and they didn’t come back.

Inhale. Exhale. In— 

Dimentio gasped out the remaining breath in his lungs, breaking the connection between them. Slumping forward, he panted for air, pressing a hand over his aching chest. 

“Oh, woah.” Timpani whispered.

Closing his eyes, Dimentio sought out Merletoph’s signature and curled in on its warmth. It was so bright compared to Timpani’s, so stable. Dimentio held it closer, watching as it shifted between oranges and yellows. 

I did it, Merletoph. I healed her. I did something nice. Are you proud of me?

Merletoph’s soul fluttered, fluctuating into a deep red for a half-second.

I know you’re fighting to protect me. I know you’re doing this to keep the rest of us safe.

But, please...stay alive.

The white void enveloped Blumiere for a full three seconds. He’d never teleported quite so far before, so the prolonged exposure to the dimension of nothing induced a split-second panic. Nevertheless, he emerged, nearly blinded by the contrast of the castle’s dark hallways. 

His heart pounded as he glanced in both directions. No one had seen him arrive. He pressed an ear to the door of his father’s bedroom.

Silence. Puzzled, Blumiere furrowed his brow. Where else would father have taken her? He pulled away, but just as he began to ponder where to look next, someone spoke from within Basile’s room. 

Timpani! She didn’t sound angry or afraid. Who is she talking to? Blumiere’s hand clutched the doorknob. Now or never. 

He flung the door open, the thumb and forefinger of his right hand pressed together, ready to produce a magical orb. He’d never imagined attacking his own father, but at the moment, he had no other option. However, as he stepped into the bedroom, the spell slipped from his fingers.

“Blumiere!” Timpani all but fell into him as she embraced him. “You came!”

Blumiere couldn’t take his eyes off of his father, crumpled face-forward on the ground. “Is he…?”

“He’s not dead.” Blumiere startled at the sound of Dimentio’s voice. “But he’s going to wake up, soon.”

“We need to go,” Timpani said. “Dimentio’s right, he could wake up any second now.”

“What about Merletoph?” Dimentio’s static tone rang with anxiety. 

“He’ll come back when he has the chance,” Blumiere said. “He told me he would know when to go.”

“He’s dying.” Dimentio stared at Blumiere with a faraway look in his eyes. “I can feel him dying.”

“Well—” Blumiere clamped his mouth around the rest of his sentence as a heavy warmth pressed into his mind.

“ D… … … bi…. sel… … … od…”

“Did you hear that?” Blumiere moved further into the room.

“Hear what?” Timpani asked, shifting to follow him. 

“It...It was like a whisper, coming from…” Blumiere pinpointed the direction of the voice. In his father’s wardrobe? No, further back than that. Behind it?

“And…...self… ve… chaos…”

“It’s coming from back here.” Blumiere dug his shoulder into one side of the wardrobe and pushed, succeeding in moving the heavy piece of furniture a few steps.

“Blumiere, we have to go!” Timpani urged. “What are you doing?”

The pressure in his head drowned out Timpani’s words. Blumiere continued to push at the wardrobe until it hit a corner and moved no further. A small door with no handle had been carved into the wall where the wardrobe had been. A black spiral design with a large indent in the center decorated the door. Blumiere touched the indent and shot a bit of magic into the mechanism beyond his finger. The spiral design turned and the door slid open.

“Blumiere!” Timpani had him by the arm, preventing him from entering the room behind the door. “Snap out of it! Why aren’t you listening to me?”

“Come closer.”

Blumiere squinted down at Timpani. “It can help us,” he said, without knowing if it were true. “Can’t you hear it?” He pulled Timpani through the doorway with him. 

The tiny room housed only two items of interest: an empty pedestal wrapped with golden chains, and a thick black tome resting against the far wall. 

Blumiere finally faltered. “The Dark Prognosticus?”

Dimentio pushed his way into the room. “It’s here?”

“Blumiere,” Timpani tried again, “please. Take us away from here. We shouldn’t be here.”

“It can save Merletoph,” Blumiere said. 

Timpani and Dimentio both fell silent at that. And then, before either of them could stop him, Blumiere stooped to pick up the Dark Prognosticus. 

As soon as he touched the black leather cover, an invisible force connected to his soul. A rush of power roared through him, revitalizing his blood and strengthening his heart. The same whisper from before repeated in his ears, loud as a warcry. 

“Dost thou bind thyself with thy blood and makest thyself a vessel of chaos?”

Thousands of screams tore through his mind, faraway and anguished. Timpani’s voice joined them, her words drowned in the sea of wails. A hand on his back grounded him to his own dimension. Cold fear flowed like a river over him as he grasped the meaning of the Dark Prognosticus’ inquiry. 

No, no, he realized. No, I don’t want that!

Sensing his refusal, the book thrust him away, forcefully breaking their connection. The power he’d felt was sucked away, leaving him even more drained than before. Timpani caught him and then fell to the ground herself, leaving them both in a heap on the floor. Dimentio stood over them, his eyes trained on the book.

“We need to go, Blumiere,” Timpani said, straining to get herself standing again. “ Now. We—” She cut off with a gasp. 

Blumiere sat up to look at her and first noticed that Dimentio had gone rigid. Dimentio stared, wide-eyed, at Timpani. Similarly, Timpani looked not at Blumiere, but at Dimentio.

“ No... ” Timpani covered her mouth with her hand. “He’s…”

“Merletoph?” Blumiere scrambled to his feet and then braced against the wall after a haunt of vertigo attacked him. “Is he alright?”

“Gone,” Timpani said. “His soul is gone.”

Dimentio shook his head. “No, it’s not gone. It’s black. His soul is black.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know!”

Blumiere slid down against the wall, assaulted by a bout of nausea. His heart fluttered in his chest, struggling to beat. 

“Come closer.”

“N-No,” he spat out, pressing his eyes closed against a sudden headache.

Wordlessly, Timpani joined him on the floor. Dimentio followed soon after, on the other side. 

“What do we do?” Timpani asked.

“I’m going to take us back,” Blumiere murmured, the words barely sliding from his throat in a whisper. “I promised… Merletoph I’d find you… bring you back safe.” He wheezed, placing a shaking hand over his heart. “Something’s… wrong. Not much time.”

Timpani placed her hand on top of Blumiere’s. Dimentio silently touched Blumiere’s other hand, his head bowed. 

“We’ll have to leave Merletoph behind,” Timpani murmured. Dimentio inhaled sharply through his nose.

Gathering all of his remaining strength, Blumiere imagined the glowing arch of the Dimensional Gateway and forced his soul to move, one last time.

Rocks and blue light spun into a blur as Blumiere pulled Timpani to the ground. She struggled, trying to see why he’d fallen, but the dead-weight of his arm pinned her against the cold stone floor. 

“Good stars! Wha’ ‘appened?” 

“Blue!”

Kathleen rushed to assist them. She pulled Blumiere away from Timpani and helped Dimentio, who’d also been dragged to the ground.

Timpani heaved herself into a kneeling position. “Blumiere! Are you hurt?”

His glazed eyes stared right through her. For a heartbeat, Timpani thought he must be dead. But then his gaze shifted ever-so-slightly and focused on her before his eyelids drooped closed. She gasped and reached for his hand.

“His pulse is slow,” Dimentio said. “He’s used up the last of his energy.”

“Will he get better?” Timpani asked, desperation sharpening her tone.

“Eventually.”

“Let’s give ‘im some time,” Kathleen suggested. “We still ‘ave teh wait for Merletoph, ‘aven’t we?”

“No.” Timpani shook her head, furrowing her brow as she recalled Blumiere’s father. He could already be after them, for all she knew. “No, we have to go. We can’t afford to wait for either of them.”

“Wha’, are we gon’ teh drag ‘im through?”

“But, Papa!” Mimi’s wail cut over Kathleen’s incredulous question. She grabbed onto the sleeve of Timpani’s dress. “We have to wait for Papa to come back!”

“He’ll find us,” Timpani said, with a glance at Dimentio. “But we’re in great danger here. We have to leave.”

“Basile is coming,” Dimentio said. He stared, unfocused, at the ground. “We have to go.” It sounded less like an urgent statement and more like a haunting realization. 

Timpani flexed her injured arm, still marveling at how quickly the pain had faded. “Come on, Kathleen,” she said as she pushed herself to her feet, “hold the door open. I’ll carry him through.” 

“Can yeh manage?”

“I’ve carried him once before,” Timpani said. “He’s no more awake than he was then.”

As she stooped to slip her arms underneath Blumiere’s body, Mimi grabbed her again. 

“Please, we have to wait for Papa. He’ll come. He said he’d come.”

“Merletoph can teleport to us, right Dimentio?” Timpani’s voice strained in her throat as she lifted Blumiere off the ground.

Dimentio only narrowed his eyes in response. 

“Well, if we’re really goin’, let’s go,” Kathleen said. She put a hand on the door handle. “Ronan, grab Merletoph’s pack if yeh can manage. Mimi, follow Timpani through. Yeh ‘ave teh hurry, Mimi,” Kathleen added as the girl opened her mouth to argue. “We’re still bein’ chased, lass. I hate teh say it, but it’s too scary to stay behind.”

With shimmering eyes, Mimi gave a tiny nod and grabbed onto Timpani’s dress. 

When Kathleen opened the Dimensional Gateway, a blinding light filled the cavern. “Go on in,” she said. “Step through. I’ll keep the door open.”

With no time for hesitation, Timpani stepped into the nothingness. She allowed the light to completely envelop her.

What awaited her on the other side of the door was unlike anything she’d ever seen. The floor beneath her feet, solid though it was, sparkled and misted like a glittering cloud. The translucent dust revealed an endless, black ocean of stars below and above her. 

The cloudy floor extended like a hallway. Along each edge, hundreds of doors floated in the open space, lined up perfectly. Each one had a unique color, design, and outer border. Some of them had glowing lights around their edges, while others dimmed in and out of existence. 

The hallway stretched on endlessly, fading out of sight further down. Here and there, corridors branched off of the main hall, and as far as Timpani could tell, they, too, were lined with doors. 

Her arms screamed for a break from carrying Blumiere, but she ignored them. Instead, she searched the doors nearby, trying to figure out which one would be the best to open next.

“Come on, come on,” Kathleen said from the other side of the door. Even though a bright light obscured her from Timpani’s view, she could still hear the girl clearly. “We ‘ave to go, Dimentio. Ah know, child, but we ‘ave teh leave ‘im behind.”

Ronan stepped through the glowing threshold, followed shortly after by Dimentio, and then Kathleen.

The door to Timpani’s home closed behind her.

Chapter Text

Remember

Episode Eight: Proof of Existence

Chapter Three

“In fact, I’m…”

“I thought killing you would…”

“It’s no wonder…”

A thread of memories unraveled directly from Merletoph’s head and vanished from existence. 

“...given him the chance to live!”

“What are we going to do?”

“Look out!”

He felt the hands on his head, pressing. Nothing else.

“...trying! He’ll…”

“...your ancestors in the…”

“Stay back.”

As each memory rewound, a black mist edged the corners of his vision. It crept closer.

“...up, Dimentio. We must…”

“Breathe.”

Then, darkness.

Merletoph coughed awake, immediately aware of someone on top of him. He opened his eyes to find a member of the Tribe of Darkness leaning over him, lips drawn in a snarl. When he reached for Merletoph’s face, Merletoph threw up an elbow, twisting so as to throw the man off of him. With a grunt, the tribesman rolled to the side and landed on his back in the grass. 

“What?!” he heard the man growl. “Where are you? Protect me!” He sat up and glared at Merletoph. “You! What did you do to me?” A murderous fury burned in his blue eyes.

Merletoph thrust his hand toward him. 

The man screamed as a pillar of fire engulfed him. Merletoph closed his eyes against the intense heat that burned just centimeters from his face. He ducked away, curling up with his back to the flame, listening to the screams trail away like rising smoke. 

Once the last of the flames had ascended, Merletoph rose up on one knee and paused there for a moment, taking inventory of the various aches and bruises on his body. His right shoulder protested the slightest movement, and there was a spot on his back that pulsed with an angry soreness. Additionally, his head throbbed with a dizzying migraine.

He observed the tall, black walls of the castle, his gaze traveling over the ornate entrance down to the scrubs of grass poking out of the rocky soil. He hadn’t teleported himself here. 

Scrunching his eyes closed, he tried to remember what he’d been doing last. However, a thick haze prevented him from reaching back, as if someone had draped a shroud over his memories. 

With a shaking hand on the castle wall, Merletoph steadied his breathing and reviewed what he knew.

His name. Merletoph. That was a good start. He knew he was at a castle that belonged to the Tribe of Darkness. His home—

Ah. He remembered his home. Relief revived a bit of his strength. He could go home. With one last glance at the charred mage on the ground, he teleported back to his house.

The sight of Merletoph’s living room troubled him. It seemed somehow different than he’d seen it last. Several items were missing, and upon further inspection, the two bedrooms had been completely rifled. He massaged his forehead, trying to remember the second room’s occupant. The small bed and the scattered toys suggested a child. 

I have a daughter. Of course! How could he have forgotten her? Pressing his eyes closed, he struggled to remember more about her. A name, her appearance… anything. His daughter lived in this room. A frown tugged at Merletoph’s lips. So where was she now?

He investigated the rest of the house, picking up fragments of memories as he went. A book on a shelf above a couch reminded him of The Ancients. He recalled his childhood with the Tribe and learning magic with his brother. A hand-carved clock unearthed an image of his wife, Celia. Memories of her death misted his eyes with tears. 

His wandering brought him to the kitchen, where, among the ceramics that awoke his love for cooking, he found a note written on a piece of parchment.

Sha’i,

If you happen to return to this place while I am gone, know that I am searching for you. With the help of a few friends, I will be entering The Gateway. If I have not found you in five years, I will return home. I pray I find you before this note does, but if you make it back before I do, know that I will return.

May the stars cross our paths,

Your father, Merletoph

“Sha’i. Sha’i. My daughter.” He tried out the name, pleased to find another memory slot into place as he said it. Merletoph dropped the note back onto the table. He exhaled slowly, allowing this new information to assemble into meaningful knowledge. The Gateway. He remembered learning about such a place. If Sha’i had gotten lost in The Gateway, he needed to be looking for her. That must have been where he was going, before…

Before. Before what? He’d awoken outside of the Tribe of Darkness’ castle, under attack by one of the tribesmen. No matter how hard he tried to remember, he couldn’t make a connection. How had he gotten there? Why had he been attacked? He checked the note again. He’d written a date at the bottom of the parchment, but Merletoph realized he had no way of knowing the current date. Perhaps his search had led him back to this world prematurely, or perhaps the five years had already passed. 

A dash of black caught Merletoph’s eye: a near-empty inkwell. A downy quill rested beside it. Merletoph plucked the quill from the table and touched the darkened tip to his finger. It left behind a tiny black dot. 

The quill had been used recently, no more than a few hours ago. Merletoph tried again to remember what had happened, how to get to The Gateway, or who these ‘friends’ were that he was supposed to be traveling with. Nothing.

He began a second search through the house, desperate for a clue. In Shai’s room, he found a large box under the bed labeled Mimi’s rock collection. Intrigued, Merletoph opened it and studied the rocks inside. One rock, a bright red gemstone, stood out amongst the browns and greys of the others. Merletoph held it up to the light from the window and studied it.

Mimi…

Sunlight filtered crimson through the stone, casting a scattering of red waves around the room. Mimi. He’d created her. She lived in this room, not Sha’i. Hazy memories of Sha’i and Mimi intertwined. He set the stone down and massaged his temples, giving the memories time to sort themselves out. 

Sha’i lived here before Mimi. Mimi must have been here recently. Perhaps she had gone in search of The Gateway with him. 

The problem was, Merletoph hadn’t the slightest clue where to look for The Gateway, or who to ask about it.

A stray twinkle of light from the red stone caught his eye. He picked it up, studied it, traced along the edges with his finger. The faintest memory fluttered through his mind: an image of a young girl laying on her stomach on the floor, diligently sorting rocks into neat piles. Sha’i, or Mimi?

The stone rolled from his fingers as he pressed his eyes closed and sighed. 

Dimentio studied every inch of the rock walls in the room containing the Dimensional Gateway. Once he stepped through the doors, he ignored the strangeness of The Gateway and studied the design on the door after it closed behind Kathleen. 

Their door was blue. It reminded him of the sky in the morning: pale and airy. In black, a design like molten metal shimmered on the door’s surface. It contained spirals and wisps, and a little conglomeration in the middle looked like a crashing wave of water. Another design at the top looked decidedly like a small fish. 

A halo of green light surrounded the door. At the very bottom of the left side, three little pale streaks lined up along the edge. The third streak, the one furthest from the ethereal floor, pulsed occasionally. 

Dimentio paused to look at some of the other doors. Many of them had pale streaks surrounding the entire frame. Others had only a few, like his door. He watched a door with only one streak fade, and then disappear completely. A new door with a full ring of streaks replaced it. 

He turned back to his own door. Already, the third streak pulsed slower, contemplating its departure. 

“We have to pick a door,” he heard Timpani say. A hand on his arm nudged him away from the flashing streaks.

“Here.” Kathleen shuffled him through another doorway. He didn’t even get a chance to look at the design on the door.

It spat them out in the middle of a grassy field. Nothing anchored the door, rather it floated about a meter off the ground as though it were in a dimension of its own. Dimentio stumbled and landed in the tall, frosty grass. 

Not a single landmark dotted the horizon. A tiny yellow sun rose steadily in the sky, not quite bright enough to provide any warmth. A chilly breeze penetrated Dimentio’s clothing. 

“Where do we go from here?” Timpani’s breath fogged in the air where she knelt over Blumiere, who had fallen out of her arms during the tumble. “There’s...there’s nothing.”

“Well, we ‘ave teh wait ‘til Blumiere wakes up, anyhow. Let’s give ‘im some time.”

Dimentio watched as they laid Blumiere down in the grass. Even Mimi and Ronan did their best to look like they were attending to him. Dimentio stood by the door, tracing the details in the brown metal with his eyes.

His mental clock alerted him to the change in the hour. Four o’clock. They expected him to cloak Blumiere’s signature in two hours and fifty-five minutes.

Dread weighed down his limbs as he watched the rest of the group. He’d have to tell them eventually, and with Merletoph gone, he found his courage failing him. He sat on the ground and pulled his knees to his chest. How could he tell them? His one job, his purpose for traveling with them, and he was going to fail. What if Basile and his father found them?

“Hey.”

Dimentio looked up at Mimi. She stood in front of him, her arms crossed. 

“Hello.”

“You can feel Papa’s soul, right? Where is he?”

Merletoph’s soul signature had vanished as soon as Dimentio entered The Gateway. Here, on this barren world, Dimentio doubted he’d be able to feel anyone’s signature, even once his magic returned. “I don’t know,” he told Mimi.

Mimi huffed and sat on the ground next to him. “What if we never see him again? That...that won’t happen, right?”

Dimentio didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know why Mimi wanted to talk to him, or why she thought he knew the answers to her questions. His mind wandered to their first encounter when Mimi had yelled at him for wearing her dress. She’d said his hair would look nice if he brushed it. She thought it was cool that he could fly. 

“I don’t know,” he repeated. When her lip trembled, Dimentio added, “I like your dress.”

“...huh?”

He shrugged. “Something nice,” he mumbled. “You said before that I still had to tell you two more nice things. So, I like your dress. And...your hair is curly. I like it.”

With a dumbfounded look on her face, Mimi only stared at him.

Dimentio picked at a stitch in his poncho. “That’s nice, right?”

A giggle sputtered out of her and she leaned to the side, nudging his shoulder with hers. “You’re so weird!”

“Of course I am,” Dimentio said with a grin. “I’m as weird as you can get. I shouldn’t even exist, aha.”

“I thought of something even weirder,” Mimi whispered. “Papa is your grandpapa, right? So...that makes me like your mom.”

Dimentio shook his head. “No. You’re younger than me. And I have an actual mother. 

“Fine then. But we’re kinda like brother and sister, right?”

Dimentio considered it. “I guess we are.”

“I’m gonna tell Papa that when he gets back.”

Turning again to the now-loosened string in his poncho, Dimentio chose silence over entertaining Mimi’s optimism. He’d felt Merletoph’s soul fade to black. He couldn’t rule out the possibility that Merletoph could be dead now. He couldn’t tell Mimi that he considered it likely. 

How am I supposed to find Mother without him?

Before that train of thought could depress him further, he heard Timpani and Kathleen’s relieved exclamations.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Timpani said. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

Dimentio stood and wandered over to Blumiere. Mimi followed him.

“What happened?” Blumiere sat up and held a hand to his head. “I feel...wait.” He found Dimentio and locked on with a frantic stare. “My signature. Did you take it?”

Dimentio shook his head.

“You’ve been out for about an hour,” Timpani said. “We came through a door in The Gateway, but there’s not much here. And...Merletoph never came back.”

Blumiere’s shoulders slumped. After a moment of heavy silence, he said, “Well, what do we do now?”

“We’ll have to find a better world than this,” Timpani said. “Somewhere we can live.”

“Wait,” Dimentio cut in. Timpani looked up at him. The skeptical glint in her eyes sent a chill down his spine. “There’s something else,” he continued. “I won’t be able to take Blumiere’s signature away at the time we originally agreed upon. I still won’t have my magic. We’ll have to leave Blumiere’s signature up for five minutes before my magic comes back. Then I can cloak it.”

“But won’t tha’ leave us with a glowin’ target on our ‘eads for five minutes?” Kathleen asked.

Dimentio nodded. “We can hope the signal won’t reach my father within those five minutes.”

“Well, let’s stay here until we can get his signature cloaked,” Timpani said. “Then, we can run to another world, so if someone comes to find us, they’ll come here, and we’ll already be gone.”

Dimentio didn’t tell them about his skepticism regarding his magic. He didn’t feel it necessary to share his anxiety with the whole group. Instead, he waited by the Dimensional Gateway while the others shared food and hopes about the new world.

When it came time for Blumiere’s signature to uncloak, the group gathered around the floating pair of doors. Timpani held the door open, Dimentio preemptively grabbed Blumiere’s wrists, and Kathleen stood with her sword drawn, prepared to slash at anyone who arrived to attack them. Ronan and Mimi hovered in the doorway, ready to jump into The Gateway at the first sign of trouble.

6:55 came and passed. Blumiere’s signature flared back into existence, though Dimentio couldn’t yet feel it. “Five minutes,” he said.

Time crawled. With every second that passed, anxiety burned more fervently in Dimentio’s stomach.

Stars, he prayed, I know Merletoph believes you have the power to watch and guide us. I haven’t been good all my life, but the rest of these people deserve to be safe.  

At last, Dimentio’s internal clock reached 7:00. Part of his body screamed to teleport to the roof of the castle to have his signature cloaked, but he focused on the sensation of magic tingling back into his body. Like a warm river, it flowed back into his blood, pulsing at his fingertips and roaring in his ears. He tried to feel something new among the familiar magic. 

Nothing caught his attention. Maybe his soul signature didn’t have a particular feeling attached to it. Maybe he’d never had a soul signature at all. With a grimace, he forced his attention toward the task they needed him for and locked onto Blumiere’s heartbeat. The cloaking magic flowed smoothly from his fingertips into his cousin’s bloodstream.

Wasting no time in celebration, the group jumped through the door, back into The Gateway. 

The next door released the group of travelers in a flower-filled prairie dotted with hills and trees. Pinks and blues darkened the sky, signifying the arrival of nighttime.  

“There’s no town in sight here, either,” Timpani sighed. “But it feels nicer than the other one, already.”

Using the supplies Merletoph had packed, they got to work setting up a small tent. It would be cramped for the six of them, but it would work until they found a town where they could purchase more supplies. 

By the time darkness enveloped the world, the tent had been finished, and the others had curled up to get some much-needed rest. Dimentio stayed outside. 

Timpani stepped out of the tent to stand beside him. “Aren’t you coming inside?”

Dimentio shook his head.

“Well, do you have your magic back now? Is everything back to normal?”

As far as he could tell, he had everything back. He might have a soul signature, but even if he did, he had no way to tell, and Blumiere hadn’t mentioned anything about it. In the end, it didn’t matter whether he’d existed or not. Merletoph was the only person who would need to find him now. Dimentio reminded himself again that Merletoph likely wasn’t alive. He felt no different.

“Dimentio?”

Numbly, he nodded his head to answer her question. 

“Well, come in soon, okay? You need to rest. Oh, and...” she hesitated for a moment. “Well, I never properly thanked you for healing me. It was amazing that you figured out how to do it on your own. So, thank you.”

She only waited a few more seconds for a response. When he gave her none, she returned to the tent. 

Dimentio raised his head to the stars. 

Merletoph? Are you there?

Far away, on Talanton, were the same stars watching over them? Did the stars watch every world in existence?

Merletoph could have taught him about the stars.

Clenching his teeth, Dimentio came to a decision. He closed his eyes and pictured Talanton’s Dimensional Gateway. The pale blue doors. The black metal of the designs. The wave-like design in the middle, with the fish on top. He pictured the room on Talanton at the end of the tunnel, the way the rock had been carved into a small cavern. The dull color of the stone, the earthy scent of the cool air. Then, with every ounce of his concentration, he initiated a teleport.

The white void suffocated him, holding him stiff for almost a full minute while it searched for Talanton. Dimentio wondered if it would spit him back out where he started, but at last, he emerged next to the blue glow of the Dimensional Gateway they’d escaped through. 

With a slow exhale, he searched for soul signatures nearby...

And immediately found what he was looking for. 

Merletoph!

A yellow-gray hue tinged Merletoph’s signature, just a touch brighter than the cold black it had been before. It tugged Dimentio lightly in its direction, and he obliged without hesitation. 

Teleporting to Merletoph’s location brought him to a wooded area not far from Tiede. Merletoph stood nearby with his back turned. He appeared to be studying something, but he turned around shortly after Dimentio appeared. Dimentio could have leaped into his grandfather’s arms, but Merletoph had a strange look on his face.

“Oh. Hello,” Merletoph said.

Dimentio’s heart pounded. His levitation steadily lost altitude until his feet touched the ground. “Merletoph?”

His yellow eyes squinted, studying Dimentio. Slowly, a smile warmed his face. “You know me,” he said.

A shiver prickled Dimentio’s skin. “Yes,” he whispered. “I’m your grandson.”

“My grandson.” The sentence contained the slightest questioning tilt. It made Dimentio’s stomach twist. 

Merletoph knelt next to Dimentio, his yellow eyes narrowed in gentle investigation. “What a unique soul you have. I do not believe I’ve ever felt anything quite like it.”

“You can feel it?” A lump in Dimentio’s throat made it hard to swallow, and the space behind his eyes and nose stung.

“Yes. It is very bright. Beautiful.”

A choked noise tumbled out of Dimentio’s mouth as Merletoph spoke, taking him by surprise. He covered his mouth with his hand before anything more could slip out of him, but quickly changed his mind and wiped at his eyes as his vision blurred. 

Merletoph’s hand rested on Dimentio’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Still fighting sobs, Dimentio gave in to an impulse and threw his arms around Merletoph’s neck. Merletoph held him in a tight embrace.

A low hum reverberated through Merletoph’s chest. “I… I am so sorry, my boy. I cannot seem to remember. I am trying .” 

The crackle in his grandfather’s voice renewed the flood of sorrow Dimentio had been fighting to hold back. “ He took your memories, ” he seethed, his chest quivering with a mix of anger and sadness. 

“It must have been someone from the Tribe of Darkness,” Merletoph murmured next to Dimentio’s ear. “I remember… It was like waking up. I was on top of the hill, and a man was standing over me.”

“My father,” Dimentio said. “Aldrik.”

“Aldrik…” Merletoph’s voice hardened as though he recognized the name.

“You were fighting him,” Dimentio continued. “But we had to leave. We had to leave you behind.”

“I do not blame you, my boy. I did it to keep you safe.”

“You remember?”

Merletoph shook his head. “No. But I can say that with certainty. You are my grandson. You are precious to me.”

Dimentio frowned. “Even though you don’t remember me?”

“Yes. Even so.”

A sigh snuck past Dimentio’s lips. He wrapped his arms more snuggly around Merletoph’s neck.

Merletoph drew a hand up and down Dimentio’s back. “But, I will need your help figuring out what to do now. If you help me fill in my memories, perhaps I will start to gain them back on my own. I may remember you yet.”

Dimentio pulled back to look at his grandfather’s face. He studied the shape of his eyes, his nose, and his mouth. He memorized the lines that aged his forehead and his cheeks. Dimentio considered keeping his grandfather for himself. They could return to the Gateway, just the two of them, and find a new world together.  

He thought of the others. Mimi, with her pleading eyes, asking him to bring her father back. Blumiere, who would be the only one with magic to protect the group, needed Dimentio to cloak his signature. Even Timpani. They shared a connection to Merletoph’s soul. 

“We need to go back to the others,” he said. “They’re on a different world. But I remember what it looks like. I can teleport us there. And… and then I can help you remember.”

“Very well,” Merletoph said. “I trust you to take us there safely.”

Blumiere jolted awake. He sat up, throwing the small blanket off of himself with a start. Next to him, Timpani stirred and lifted her head.

“Blumiere…? What’s wrong?”

“I felt something.” He didn’t know how to describe it. Reaching out as if searching for soul signatures, Blumiere located the ‘something’ just outside the tent.

A myriad of colors twisted in his mind’s eye. Where the soul of a tribesmate would be swirled with blue and black, this soul had blue, yellow, white, orange, and red mixed together. It reminded Blumiere of a wind-swept field of wildflowers.

“Oh!” Timpani grabbed his arm. “I feel Merletoph. Blumiere, I can feel Merletoph!” She jumped to her feet and nearly stepped on Kathleen as she pushed out of the tent. With a hopeful grin, Blumiere followed after her as fast as his sluggish body could manage.

Soon, the tent emptied as everyone reunited with Merletoph. At the sage’s request, the conversation quickly evolved into a dramatic recount of their journey over the past week. 

“I actually lost my memories once, too!” Mimi said. “You had to come find me!”

“It was during a festival,” Timpani added. “You came at just the right time.”

Blumiere laughed nervously as he remembered that terrifying night. “It’s a good thing, too. I was nearly killed.” So much had happened since then, Blumiere could hardly believe less than a week had passed since the festival. He’d met Timpani less than a week ago.

“Kathleen an’ me ‘ad teh fight against the Tribe o’ Darkness!” Ronan exclaimed as they began the next part of their tale. “We got hit, but you ‘ealed us!”

“Dimentio ‘elped, too,” Kathleen added. “Th’ lad’s learned a lot from you.”

As the retelling continued, Dimentio stayed silent. He stood close to Merletoph, nodding occasionally, but he said nothing. He must be exhausted, Blumiere thought. 

“...and then we all left for The Gateway...”

“...Blumiere’s an’ Dimentio’s dads were chasin’ us…”

“...they caught you, Papa...”

“I felt your soul signature turn black,” Dimentio finally spoke up toward the end of the story. “What happened to you? Do you remember?”

Merletoph hummed. “I do not remember much, my boy. I only recall waking up with a man—your father, I assume—standing over me…”

“By the Ancient Blood…” Basile cursed under his breath as he stepped nearer to the blackened form in the castle yard. “Aldrik?”

His brother lay in the center of a circle of burned grass, one of many outside the front door. The overwhelming scent of charred flesh worsened Basile’s throbbing headache and incited a curl of nausea. 

A howl of despair nipped at the back of his teeth, but he swallowed it down. He’d lost Blumiere. He’d been bested by a human. And now, after being unconscious for far too long, he’d lost Aldrik, too.

Aldrik had the Prognosticus, he reminded himself, and a fresh wave of bitterness flowed over his misery. The Prognosticus had chosen Aldrik, all along, and he’d never told Basile. All the years he’d spent begging the book to teach him, to accept him, to allow him access to its mysteries, and the Prognosticus had never been his. 

But the book had failed Aldrik in the end. It had failed to save him.

He knelt next to Aldrik’s head and pulled the remains of his circlet from his ashen skull. Basile placed it back upon his own head, his lip curling in disgust. “What did I tell you?” As he stood up, his voice raised to a snarl. “You will never be king. You never deserved to be king!”

In a haze of rage, he spun toward the castle doors and threw them open. 

“Father? What’s happened?”

He ignored Abany’s concerned question, strode down the hallway, and ascended the stairs toward his bedroom. 

“Father!” 

The voice faded away, drowned out by a ringing in Basile’s ears.

The walls of the corridor pressed in on him as he rounded a corner. Blue and red tapestries danced at the edges of his blurry vision. He burst through his bedroom door and marched straight through to the hidden room in the back, the door of which still gaped open. 

The Dark Prognosticus rested on the floor behind the pedestal, neatly closed. 

“He’s dead!” Basile told the book. “Call on me! Give me your power!”

The Dark Prognosticus did not answer. 

“ I am the king of this Tribe! You will call on me!”

Silence.

With a furious roar, Basile grabbed for the offensive tome, only for it to slip away from his fingers. An explosion of magic knocked him against the wall, leaving him to watch as the Dark Prognosticus lifted itself from the floor. It hovered to the pedestal and sat gracefully upon it. A moment later, the chains which previously bound it wrapped tightly around the book. The lock in the center clicked shut. 

Stunned into numb hopelessness, Basile raised his shaking hands to the circlet around his head. He pressed it into his skull until the needlelike points cut his skin.

He’d lost a brother. He’d lost a son. He’d lost his wife —

“Those blasted humans,” he growled. All of his anguish could be traced back to the day they’d killed Anastaise. No, the day they’d killed his father. The day he’d been burdened with the crown. 

“ I will make them suffer. ”

“Aldrik’s dead?” A chill crept down Blumiere’s spine. “Are you sure?”

“I am certain,” Merletoph said. “In truth, I fled the scene as soon as I knew where to go, but the only beings who can withstand the flames are those protected by magic.” He put a hand on top of Dimentio’s head. “I am so sorry, my boy.”

Dimentio shrugged, but Blumiere noticed a slight furrow in his cousin’s brow. “He wasn’t a good person,” Dimentio said.

“We’re safe then, right?” Ronan asked. “No one’s comin’ after us?”

Timpani tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Even though Aldrik is dead, we’ll need to keep Blumiere hidden so his father can’t track us. But we are safe now, as long as we keep Blumiere’s signature cloaked.”

“My father wouldn’t be able to track us any other way,” Blumiere agreed. “And even if he does come, we can face him. We’ve done it before.”

A chorus of exclamations and affirmations rose up after Blumiere’s words. 

“We need to rest,” Merletoph’s voice cut through the clamor. “We will need to regain our strength before we enter into the Gateway again.”

Blumiere smiled. Despite the sage’s loss of memory, he still fell into the leadership role the group had been lacking without him. Next to him, Timpani laced her fingers in between his and nudged him with her shoulder. “Let’s get some rest,” she said, tugging him lightly toward the tent. 

His heart fluttered. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” he whispered. 

“We’re all safe,” Timpani replied. “And what an adventure we’ve had.”

An adventure, Blumiere realized, that has scarcely begun.

Chapter Text

Remember

Epilogue

Dimentio awoke to the heat of the sun on his face. He cracked his eyes open, glaring at the bright white of the tent’s fabric. 

11:47 pm, said his internal clock. Dimentio wanted to roll over and sleep, but the light of the sun simultaneously confused and irritated him.

This world’s night cycle lasted no more than three hours, he realized. And the sun is already hot.  

Sitting up, he groggily pushed his way out of the tent to see how high the sun had climbed already. To his surprise, he saw Mimi and Merletoph sitting nearby, chatting in the shade of a small tree with wispy leaves. A twinge of jealousy yanked at his stomach.

“Good morning!” Mimi called in her shrill voice. “Isn’t it weird? The sun came up already!”

Merletoph patted the grass next to him. “Come, sit,” he said. “If this world’s day cycle is  just as short, we’ll be able to sleep again soon.”

Without a word, Dimentio sat in the cool grass. He felt Mimi watching him and hated the way her stare made his face heat up. 

“Hmm, perhaps Ronan is awake as well,” Merletoph murmured.

“Oh, yeah!” Mimi perked up. “We could go exploring! There are lots of cool things here!”

“Do not go too far,” Merletoph chuckled as Mimi sprang off toward the tent. “I assume you would like to talk to me alone,” he added to Dimentio. 

Dimentio threaded his hands through the grass in front of him, a grateful smile tugging at his lips. 

“Tell me what is on your mind, my boy. I will listen.”

So many thoughts bumped up against each other on their way out of his mouth, he ended up saying none of them. Drawing a slow breath in through his nose, Dimentio met Merletoph’s gaze. When their eyes locked, he pushed past his grandfather’s stare and searched for his soul. A dull yellow greeted him, fluctuating into grey every so often. 

With a gasp, Dimentio let go of Merletoph’s soul and leaned backward, only to be drawn closer to the sage by an arm around his shoulder. After putting up a touch of resistance, he leaned against Merletoph’s side and said, “You still don’t remember me.”

“Some of my memories are returning.”

A swirl of doubt churned Dimentio’s stomach. Merletoph had so few memories of him. It made sense that his mind would recall people he’d known for a long time, like Mimi. 

“You have not shared any memories with me yet, my boy. Tell me our stories. Perhaps I will remember as you tell them.” Merletoph kept the embrace loose, allowing Dimentio room to move away if he needed to, but he kept one hand on Dimentio’s shoulder, drawing slow circles there with his thumb.

It reminded Dimentio of the conversation they’d had right before Aldrik took him away. It reminded him of learning how to be nice. Of sprawling out on the floor of Merletoph’s living room, sick to his stomach after making a momentous decision. Of healing Ronan, Kathleen, and Timpani. Vowing to find his mother. Eating lunch in Merletoph’s kitchen. His mask left behind on the roof of the castle.

But he didn’t want to tell Merletoph about any of it.

Instead, he said, “My mother is traveling the Gateway. She’s your daughter. Sha’i.”

“Yes. You look so much like her.”

His heart lurched painfully. “Are we going to look for her?” He chewed on his lip for a moment before he asked, “Do you remember her signature?”

Heavy silence fell between them. When Merletoph spoke, his voice had lowered to a whisper. “There is still time for me to recover that memory.”

Dimentio blinked back tears. They’d snuck up on him. Ashamed, he buried his face in his grandfather’s side. 

“But until then, my boy, why don’t we enjoy this adventure together? We can make new memories. Happy ones.”

“You were teaching me soul magic,” Dimentio mumbled.

“And that will continue. We will travel, and we will learn, and someday, we will find your mother.” The arm around him finally tightened. Dimentio allowed it to draw him closer, relishing in the small spark of tranquility Merletoph’s words inspired.

“Someday,” he said. “We’ll find her someday.”

“During the next day cycle, we will pack up and head back into The Gateway to search for a new world,” Merletoph said. “We will need to gather more food and supplies, so I suggest searching until we find a world with a hospitable town nearby.”

Blumiere offered a bit of his pear to Timpani. She shook her head and pushed it back toward him.

“No, Blumiere. You’re still healing. You need it more than I do.”

“We all need to rest as much as possible. Especially you, Blumiere,” Merletoph said. “We only have three of us out of seven who can use magic. You will need to be at full strength so you can help protect us if need be.”

Blumiere nodded. “I will.” 

“Good.” Merletoph pushed open the flap of the tent. “I will see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Merletoph,” Timpani said.

Blumiere finished his pear and set the stem and seeds next to him in the grass. “Merletoph’s right. We should sleep before the sun comes out again.”

“Yes,” Timpani said. “But, Blumiere, would you mind taking a walk with me, first?”

Quirking a smile, Blumiere replied, “It’s dark. I hope you’re not planning on getting us lost.”

“Oh, we won’t go far. I saw a tree on top of a hill not too far from here that reminded me of home.” She leaned her head on Blumiere’s shoulder and gently placed her hand on top of his. “Would you come with me there?”

Blumiere chuckled. “Very well. Lead the way.” He stood and helped Timpani to her feet. A light breeze sent tendrils of her hair spiraling behind her head. “Oh, Timpani.”

“What?” She smirked at him with a sparkle in her eyes that reflected the stars. 

“I just…”

“I love you too, Blumiere,” she said, taking his hand. “Now, come on. It’s this way.”

As she pulled him along, he whispered, “Yes. I love you.”

About five minutes away from the tent, a lone tree grew at the top of a hill surrounded by fields of flowers. Blumiere immediately thought of the tree in the meadow on Talanton. Just as the first day they met, Timpani led him to the top of the hill and invited him to sit next to her. For a long while, they sat in silence, enjoying each other’s company.

“We made it,” Timpani whispered, her voice filled with awe. “Can you believe that we actually made it?”

“All of us,” he added. “There were so many moments I thought for sure you were gone.”

“We’re never going back there. I’m...I’m really going to miss my family, but I’m so glad we were able to escape.”

Blumiere hummed. He thought of his father, his brothers and cousins, and even Aldrik. “I think I’ll miss my family, too,” he admitted. “I’ve never lived with anyone but them. The fact that I’ll never get to see them again…” he trailed off, surprised to find tears stinging his eyes.

“It will be hard,” Timpani said. Her voice softened. “It will be really hard.”

They fell silent again, joined by a haze of melancholy. Blumiere tilted his head, vision blurring as he studied the sky.

“Look, Timpani. The stars are beautiful, aren’t they?” Though sadness still crackled in his voice, he said it with a smile. 

Timpani sniffed and joined Blumiere in his stargazing. “There was a tradition in Tiede,” she began softly. “We believed that if you made a wish on a star, it would come true.”

“Oh, is that so?” Blumiere couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Well, in that case, we’d better get wishing, don’t you think?”

“I don’t need to wish anymore.”

Blumiere raised an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

“I already got my wish. We’re safe, together, and out on an adventure. I have everything I need.” She leaned in closer and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Flustered, Blumiere looked away into the distance and cleared his throat. “It’s rather windy up here. Aren’t you cold, Timpani?”

She laughed at him, pulling him closer with an arm around his shoulders. “Not at all, Blumiere. I’m very warm.” 

“Are you?” Even so, he unhooked the clasp on his cloak and draped it around her like a hooded blanket. 

Timpani raised an eyebrow at him from underneath the fabric and bit her lip to hold back another bout of laughter. She lifted a hand to Blumiere’s face and feathered her thumb across his cheek. He kissed her forehead and drew her into a hug. 

“I love you, Timpani.”

“And I love you, Blumiere.” She nuzzled into his embrace with a content sigh. “Can we stay like this? Just a little longer?”

End