Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For Sophie, the day started with a thud on the circus tent's walls.

She didn’t pay too much mind at first, figured it was just a bunch of rowdy kids playing about and getting a bit too careless.  It happened pretty often, especially during the weekends, where the city was much more crowded than usual and the amount of audiences for the circus boomed. No matter how many times Hanbei scolded the kids from afar, Sophie’s reactions to it stayed the same— she simply watched them scurry by with a laugh of their own. He’ll definitely chastise her for being too nice again, but they’re just kids. They’re still growing up and learning about the world, after all. You can’t stay too mad at them.

The next thing she heard was a war cry of something inhuman, something supposedly alien to these parts of the Desert Kingdom, but familiar all the same. It was the iconic cry of a frogodile, one defending its territory. Perhaps it was a pet of one of the richer kids? If her memory served right, it was a custom for some of the wealthier families to have monsters trained and taken in as companions.

The third thing Sophie heard— the commanding hollers of a soldier— disproved all of that.

Somewhere in the tent, Ru-yi cried out in fear. “What’s going on out there‽”

No answer came to mind. Sophie had no choice but to rush out of the circus tent, baton at the ready and her troupe in tow… and they couldn’t believe what they just ran into.

A frogodile and a capybara beastman, both struggling against a band of soldiers trying to rope them down.  A Bear distracting a few monsters, ones who seemed to be trained by the soldiers themselves. It was odd, but it was a crisis nonetheless.

One of the soldiers sidestepped, narrowly dodging a punch from the capybara, before catching a glance of the troupe. “Damnit, more witnesses? Quick; don’t let any single one get away!”

Ru-yi yelped. “Witnesses? Is he talking about us‽”

Before anything else, a feminine voice rang out—

“Behind you!”

Sophie turned around to find a wolf rushing towards her. Before she knew it, she was grabbed by an unknown individual while her troupe ran and leapt back in the tent, out of harm’s way in the nick of time.

It took a while for the ringmaster to recover her footing, thanks to the suddenness of it all. “Hanbei! Ru-yi! Hutchinson! Is everyone alright?”

Hanbei smirked. “A random monster won’t take us down that easily. You, on the other hand… be more careful, for Pete’s sake. Stay alert.”

Classic Hanbei. Sophie giggled, relief washing over her. “On behalf of Morgan’s Marvellous Circus, thank—” The ringmaster turned around, greeting… a lady in a blue ball gown?

“—you…?”

“It’s… a long story,” she replied. “This is a bizarre situation; I’m aware.”

Hutchinson bowed in gratitude to the lady’s actions. “Regardless, we cannot thank you enough, ma’am. Won’t you tell us your name?”

The lady nodded curtly. “Sione Aldric. At your service.”

The ringmaster shook Sione’s hand. “My name’s Sophie. This is Ru-yi, Hanbei, and Hutchinson.”

“That was so cool!” Ru-yi exclaimed. “You just rushed in and… and… and we would’ve been dead meat if it weren’t for you!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hanbei cut in. “No offense, but care to tell us what’s with the get-up? And what the hell’s going on, even—”

He was interrupted by Sione’s untimely groan, her cool expression turning into that of a pained one. Hutchinson looked down, his eyes widening in concern.

“Miss Aldric, your leg—!”

“It’s just a scratch. I’ll worry about it later.” Sione unsheathed her sword and with it, cut off the blue strand of cloth on her left wrist so she can temporarily bandage the wound.

“Oh, that won’t do at all!” Hutchinson bent down, offering a hand. “Please, allow me—”

They heard the wolf growl. Its silhouette was getting dangerously close to the entrance, baring its fangs and waiting for its prey to show themselves. Not exactly what Sophie would regard as the best answer, but she knew one thing: they were really in it now.

“I appreciate it, but I shall take care of things for now. These soldiers aren’t easy to reason with.”

The ringmaster and Hutchinson hesitantly nodded before their savior rushed out of the tent and back into the fray. They’ll be safe, sure. Even so…

Sophie thought to herself: can she really sit still in their cozy little tent at a time like this? Sione and those beasts were in danger! It would mean risking a sermon from Hanbei, something about how they don’t know if they can really trust them, and how she’ll end up as a carbon copy of her father— Sophie cringed internally at the thought— but… this was different. If they don't do something, it'll be Sione who'll serve as her father's carbon copy. She can’t let the grace of untimely salvation remain unpaid.

“Everyone, gather around!” she cheerfully commanded, raising her baton. She has to make this work. If she did get injured as well, at least it's better than all of them dying in vain.

Hanbei sighed. “What now?”

The ringmaster smiled. Right now, her father was right about one thing: when you’re down, you’ve got to laugh even harder. And she’s not exactly what you’d call powerful or physically strong, but Sophie will make sure Sione gets the last laugh!

“…I have a plan.”

“You’re late again.”

Geez… she’s getting good. She only took a single step into the library, and she can already hear Celia’s voice greeting her.

“Sorry, sorry,” Alice gently laughed, that of a little girl. Dreams were weird and powerful— it’s been a long while since she heard her younger self’s voice. “Been busy lately.” In fact, she was so occupied with her endeavors, it’s been a long while since she got some decent sleep at all. It was currently past two in the morning in the real world, so to speak.

Celia closed the book she was holding, shaking her head. “You’re worrying him to death. What happened to your New Year’s resolution of sleeping earlier?”

“I’ll get back to it after next week’s recital,” the little girl assured her. “Promise.”

The masked girl got down from her chair, gesturing for Alice to follow her. They made their way to the Mask Room, where Celia silently offered a cup of tea. She happily accepted.

The tea was as delicious as ever. It would go well with—

“So, you’re turning twenty tomorrow.”

…with cake. The little girl blinked. “Yeah. I feel so… old. Time sure flies fast, doesn’t it?”

“Mm.” Celia took a sip from her own cup. “To think that the two of us came this far… You should be about his age. He would be so proud of you.”

“Of us, don’t you mean?”

Celia could only chuckle. “After all these years, you’re as silly as ever.”

Alice, however, heartily laughed.

They whiled the time in each other’s company, looking through books and photo albums and reminiscing fond memories. Like that one time they found themselves in another world. The time Deemo was whisked away. The time Alice was with Theodore. The time Princess Angelia discovered the truth about Celia. The time they worked together to rescue Deemo and get back to the castle.

For a fantasy world beyond her dreams, it all felt so real.

After some time, Alice reached for the kettle to refill her cup. “Anyway, since when did you make this much tea? Kettle’s pretty heavy today.” She briefly winced, her hands sore. Sometimes she forgets that she takes the form of a humble little ten-year-old in this realm. “If this is to celebrate my old, ripe age, I don’t think I can’t finish it at this rate!”

Celia put her now empty cup down in response, chuckling with more mirth. “You silly, silly girl… If you need help that badly, I’ll get Deemo, then… Grandma.”

“Hey…! Now that’s just being mean!”

Ever since they reconciled and the real her accepted that the masked girl was a part of her psyche, the two of them and Hans— er, Deemo, grew closer than ever.

And Alice wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Now!”

At Sophie’s beck and call, Hutchinson dived down and his hoof hit the soldier’s back. Hard. The latter fell down, crying out in pain.

“Damn brats…!” he hissed. The soldier got up, still struggling with the pain. “We’re not done with you rascals! Sir Cecil shall hear about this. Everyone, retreat!”

The frogodile roared once again as the soldiers and their monsters fell back. “Yeah, that’s right! Good riddance!” Once they were all out of sight, he redirected his attention to the capybara, this time with a softer look on his face. “You good, Gramps?”

“Worry about me, no need to,” he uttered, taking out a jar of wine and taking a sip from it.

“That’s all you say whenever I ask if you’re fine! It worries me sometimes.”

The jar is sealed, put back in its place. “That you are in good condition, I am glad. To keep myself going, that’s all I need.”

Hanbei and the Bear joined the rest of the group, the latter releasing a whew of relief. “Well, that’s the last of them.”

“A joyous victory, this is,” the capybara declared, stroking his beard. “Eternally grateful, we are.”

The frogodile sported a huge grin as he also faced Sione, the troupe, and the Bear. “By the way, my name’s Karnulla. This is Grandpa Yan-Bo. We owe you folks big time.”

“Name’s Dagger.” The Bear briefly waved with a free hand. “Anyway, it’s no big deal. You guys fight pretty good.”

“Heh, what else can I say? I was trained by the best grandpa ‘round Maple Lake,” Karnulla chuckled. “And you’re not too shabby yourself!”

“I hate to suddenly shift the topic,” interrupted Sione, “but their commander mentioned the name Cecil… did he mean Cecil Vincent?”

Yan-bo nodded, pensive. “A tumultuous history with him, we share.”

Hutchinson slightly tilted his head, intrigued. “Can you elaborate that for us, Mister Yan-Bo?”

“For starters, his family had some business with illegally selling rare creatures in the past,” summarized the frogodile. “Turns out our mermaid acquaintance was dumped at Maple Lake years ago, and now he wants her back just so he can repay some crummy debt.” Karnulla’s voice was laced with venom upon telling the story.

“Did not stop him, Hestia’s wrath and growth. Planned to sell the rest of us and our remains, Cecil even,” Yan-Bo lamented.

 “The Vincents, huh?” Dagger murmured. “Hey, I thought the last of their line died months ago?”

“Man, I wish.” Karnulla grimaced. “Cecil’s still out there, trying to get our hands on us and Hestia.”

Hutchinson’s face softened with sympathy. “So, those soldiers were after you with a vengeance… I see. I am deeply sorry to hear that.”

Sione put her chin in her hands, deep in thought. “That’s odd…”

“What’s odd about it, Miss Sione?” Sophie then asked.

“If my memory serves right, King Theodore made proclamations and movements to take down the issue of trafficking for good,” the lady in blue continued. “I was there with Princess Angelia and Prince Elio when he gave the declaration—”

“Eh? Who’s Prince Elio?” The ringmaster was now perplexed herself. “I thought the Kingdom of the Sun only had Princess Angelia?”

Sione’s jaw dropped. Did she catch that right? She doesn’t know who the prince is? “This is getting more and more peculiar… and what of Queen Shirley? King Theodore’s wife?”

“Queen Shirley?” Hanbei scratched his head. “What in the world are you talking about? We’ve been to the Kingdom of the Sun, and we know for a fact that no such queen exists!”

“No such…?” Sione’s voice died down. What did she get herself into?

Dagger raised both hands and shook his head. “Hey, don’t look at me. I know a King, I know a Queen, and I know that Prince Elio gave up on the throne years ago.”

Hanbei was close to losing his marbles— “Who the fuck is this Elio‽”

“One of the leading apprentices of Federal Rune Officer Dietrich.” It was Dagger’s turn to be confused. “Er… you know? Morris Dietrich? ‘The Last Option’? The guy who solved the Bunny Bloom Incident?”

“Bunny Blooms?” Oh no, Dagger thought. Not Karnulla too. “Grandpa Yan-Bo, you know what the heck are those?”

Yan-Bo silently shook his head.

Sione rubbed her temples. This was, without a doubt, a disaster.

“Um… everyone?”

Upon hearing her words, the band of strangers turned to Sophie, who was trying to pick up the puzzle pieces to the best of her ability.

“I know this is a lot to take in, so can we start from the beginning? In the first place…”

…how did all of you get here?

In Alice's dreams, an old castle remains standing. It exhibited a melancholic aura, but it was grand all the same. For her, it was the bridge between life and death. For the castle was always a means to feel the warmth of her late brother once more.

In Alice's dreams, a new story begins to unravel itself— of multiple possibilities, of various futures, of different walks of life. Everyone unites under one circus tent for one purpose: to survive. To live.

In Alice's dreams, a brand new chapter in Sophie Lee's life begins. On the night of her twentieth birthday, Alice falls into a slumber, falls down as the young girl she once was. Not back to the castle, but back to Vendacti.

And with her return, chaos ensues once again.

Chapter Text

All the king's horses and all the king's men can never put it back together again.

Everything was engulfed in darkness. But he could smell smoke. He could hear footsteps.

Clark stirred and groaned. His back felt cold and sore— wait, was he on the floor? And the smoke… Oh no. What of the Rune experiment he was trying to fix?

“…No serious injuries. Thank goodness.”

That voice… how gentle. Soothing, even. Who’s there? What’s going on—

And it struck. His head throbbed in pain, his limbs ached; quite the strange awakening. Another troubled groan. Whatever. He was too tired to connect the dots, anyway.

 “Stay still, now. This won’t hurt one bit.”

            A mysterious light pierced through, and a sensation of warmth engulfed him— fading away as soon as both hit him. Or perhaps not totally… he could feel the warmth ebbing in places that still hurt.

            The third groan was accompanied by Clark finally opening his eyes, and he found himself face-to-face with his savior. Silver hair contrasting a purple vest. A small feather— his Rune device, perhaps— at hand. Worry etched on a youthful face.

He didn’t seem to be a classmate. An underclassman, maybe? Or not…? His abilities aside, he didn’t possess any of the ornaments that were often associated with students from the Rune Academy. Besides, self-taught people exist.

Or perhaps… oh. Of course.

An angel.

Well, looks like he’s finally done it. All that hard work, only for him to kick the bucket. Clark could only sigh. “So… am I in heaven?”

His voice was rather painful to listen to— most likely from freaking out over his device malfunctioning for the umpteenth time this week. His savior tried his hardest not to flinch at it.

“…What do you mean?”

“You were sent to guide my soul to the afterlife, yeah? I mean, if that’s a thing. I’ve read about it somewhere.” He mustered a defeated chuckle. “Never thought my research would take me this far…”

A few confused blinks later, and it was the stranger’s turn to sigh, paired with a shake of his head.

“You’re probably just in shock— or joking, perhaps… but I’m nothing of the sort. We saw smoke coming out through your door and found you unconscious. I used Life Magic to heal you, that’s all.”

“Huh.” Clark groped his hair for his glasses and placed them back on the bridge of his nose. He tried to sit up, and then the pain kicked in once again—

“Careful…!”

He found the stranger guiding him, hand on one arm. Firm yet gentle at the same time, as if Clark was a piece of fine china in his hand.

“If… if you’re concerned with your experiment, Fa… Headmaster helped set out the fire. Thankfully it didn’t grow to the point of being unmanageable. He’s getting help right now.”

Clark’s shoulders drooped in exasperation. A fire? Just how much did he screw up trying to fix the thing?

“Well, that’s just great... Looks like I’m gonna have to start from scratch once this is all over. Talk about hard work.”

“Then we can start with your well-being right now.” He looked down at the stranger’s free hand as it pulled out a piece of candy from his pocket. “Here. It’s not much, but you can have it.”

That made Clark doubt him even more. How in the Sun is this guy not an angel?

“Thanks. For, uh… for all that.” He accepted his gift. “My name’s Clark. Clark Shot. And you are…?”

The stranger smiled.

“Call me…”

When Clark came to, he was greeted by a familiar setting. That of wooden cabinets, fancy bottles, twisted walkways, and yellow… so much yellow.

...Oh, boy. Let me guess, I’m in— wait, no, it’s just plain corny now.

He dusted himself off, looking around. There was no one else… just him and the vast stone corridors, made lively by all the enchanted objects floating about.

Never mind, it’s just Rune Academy.

To think that a place that looked like something out of a dream was his alma mater— or, to be specific, his alma mater to-be. If circumstances were any different, he would’ve graduated already, and Clark wouldn’t have to return unless something big came up. In any case, he supposed there’s no harm in treating it like one for the meantime. The Academy was where it all began, after all. The home of many memories and epiphanies.

But it’s quiet. Too quiet, perhaps, even with classes or curfews ongoing.

During his trek, Clark didn’t find any old companions, familiar rooms, or Headmaster’s office in sight, not even when he looked up. All these floors, and there’s nothing else. Just him, all these elements that scream Rune Academy, and some mysterious doors and portals in sight.

For real? If this wasn’t the Academy, where was he, then? Was it all an elaborate trap?

Why am I here…?

No answer came to mind. No mysterious entity came to surprise him with some explanation out of a folk tale, either. All that stood in Clark’s way was a giant door, which was probably the only way out of the place.

And oddly enough, it opened without any complications whatsoever.

Not that it made things easier for Clark that much— all he could see was sand, plants, skeletons, and more sand.

Poleva? The Desert Kingdom?

How did I get here?

First things first: Unlike some peers, Clark didn’t believe in love at first sight.

Not that it mattered that much, since love and infatuation wasn’t that high up in his priority list, anyway. Life was already hectic and tiring as it is.

Usually, crushes just come and go, but that fateful encounter played in his head akin to a broken record. There was something about that young man— his gracefulness, his softness. When it was confirmed that the silver-haired stranger was his academic junior, Clark found himself being drawn in like many students from the Academy, even if they weren’t as close as two peas in a pod. At the same time, there was more than the typical swooning, but the mechanic has yet to explore every surface of this specific prism.

Some days, he even had peculiar dreams about him. Dreams that Clark would never dare tell anyone about. Dreams where they would skip class and he’d hold him close and say small nothings, leaving the young lad pining for his affection. Dreams where he’d just whisk him away from the busy and enchanted corridors of the Academy, and into—

Click.

Click, click, click. The more clicks from his prototype, the better. They kept the gears of his mind running— at least, until he’s hit the wall. But he can’t afford to have that happen during an exam week, let the gears come to a complete halt.

Those pretty little visions can’t come back now.

Him, him, him. His revelation. His litany.

“Even nectar is poison if taken to excess,” so they say.

“Oh, oh, he’s waking up!”

Clark was struggling to keep his eyes open. He’s… not in the desert anymore? He’s alive, after all that sweating and walking? And these walls, these boxes… everything’s still a bit of a blur, but he’s certain he’s seen them before—

“Whoa, there!” The cat demihuman on his left caught him in time as the vertigo kicked in, guiding him into a leaning position. “Don’t rush it. You’re still recovering.”

Clark complied with a sigh. Forget it; he doesn’t have enough energy to ask her about everything yet.

“Glad to see you’re okay…! I found you passed out at the desert, I was worried that I was too late!” the demihuman then explained. “My name’s Kittyeyes, by the way. What’s yours?”

“Er… Clark. Clark Shot.”

“Well, nice to meet’cha, Clark!” Kittyeyes gleefully shook his hand. “Are you lost, too?”

Lost? So, was she also from the… “What do you mean—”

“Oh, just in time! Dinner will be ready soon!”

Clark and Kittyeyes turned to the entrance to find Sophie standing there.

Wait— Sophie! No wonder the tent seemed so familiar! But what was she doing here? Wasn’t she supposed to leave for the North? And where’s Rune?

“Are you feeling any better?”

“A bit, I guess. Thanks for rescuing me,” said the mechanic. “Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon, Sophie.”

“Eh?” The ringmaster was mildly blushing in surprise. “I— I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t be so surprised because our circus has been through a lot of places but— but I don’t think we’ve met…”

Clark’s eyebrows were raised in surprise.

Has she forgotten him already? It’s only been two years, how did she— okay, maybe two years was considerably long.

Well, he’s got no choice but to explain himself.

It’s not like it’s his first time doing something of the sort, anyway.

He recalled the day he met the ringmaster. “So, if you don’t mind me asking… why exactly are you looking for him?”

“…but after we took care of everything, an emergency came up. So even if we haven’t really reunited with our mutual friend, we had to part ways.”

Once Clark was finally done, he took a sip of water from the glass Kittyeyes left beside the bed.

“I see.” Sophie was now thinking out loud. “That’s interesting… to think we’ve never met here, but in another world, we’re friends! And there’s this Rune guy too… Makes me want to meet the other me and see what she’s like…”

Hang on. Other me? Another world‽

The longer he was awake, the more complicated things became. And at that rate, Clark’s in no mood for more plot twists; all he wanted was to get back home and sleep.

His vertigo is gone. Nothing else but exhaustion and confusion. Maybe some hunger. And if the mechanic gazed into the ringmaster’s eyes, he could also see a bit of the same things.

“It’s okay, Clark. I know it’s a lot to process,” Sophie reassured him. “I promise we’ll take care of things later. For now, you need something to eat!”

Scratch that. Apparently, he was right about the hunger.

“…Yeah. Food sounds good right now, actually.”

“Don’t you get tired of eating that?” asked Clark once, staring at a bowl of rice with a simple vegetable omelet on top.

The day he started to figure out the truth about that mysterious junior, it was just an ordinary weekend, but it happened in the most comically awkward way possible.

Whenever Tica had the opportunity, she would invite him, Clark, and this trio of girls to eat with her at the Academy’s cafeteria. Since he often saved up for his research, the mechanic would settle for a meal that’s cheap enough, while the young stranger would sometimes make his own lunch. When the latter did, however… it was either bland to the point where Tica would offer some cheese to go with it, or oddly over-seasoned.

And once Clark asked that question, he only faked a smile. As if he was silently crying for help.

Then he went to eating his meal once it was clear that everyone got the gist and didn’t dare to ask more about it.

Clark settled down on the carpet, leaning on a nearby chest. For something that was simple and rumored to originate from market leftovers, that stew sure hit the spot.

The tent slowly started to fill, and he watched as all the guests passed by. A girl in a bear costume was pestering a red-haired soldier, and a lancer was laughing at their antics while finishing her Boomshroom kebab. The latter glanced at Clark, as if finding him familiar, but immediately turned away the moment she saw him look back.

A frogodile chuckled and grinned at Clark. “That was one hell of a meal, huh? I feel ya,” he remarked before he spoke to a capybara companion. Behind them, he saw a purple-haired man mouth an annoyed “help me” as a black bird was bragging his ears off and ranting about things like alternate universes and games and these things called… “fanfiction” and “canon”?

Trust me, I’m as confused and tired as you are.

“Okay! Everyone should be here, right?”

Sophie and her troupe were the last ones to vacate the campfire. The ringmaster looked around the odd crowd in front of her, two boxes in hand.

“Let’s get back to business!” she declared, gesturing to the blackboard that Ru-yi and Hutchinson were moving to the front. While it was mainly used for show tricks, it currently had a large table drawn on it. Majority of it was blank, and the one row that was filled had “No Queen Shirley, no prince, no Rune, Regent Theodore ends civil war peacefully” written in white chalk. There were also simple illustrations of Sophie and the circus members on said row, which was labeled Host World.

“Right now, we’ve met more than a dozen people from different worlds, or so you guys say,” began Sophie. “And considering today’s new guest, there’s a good chance that we’ll be finding more.”

“But there’s no way I’m lending you lot a hand without figuring your homes out!” Hanbei said, stern as always. “This…” he continued, pointing at Sophie’s boxes, “…is where these come in.”

Ru-yi came back with an empty desk, and the ringmaster placed the boxes on it, opening them to reveal multiple sticks of colored chalk and some ribbons. Everyone leaned forward, glancing at the contents with intrigue.

It was Hutchinson’s turn to speak. “Considering our world is where everyone landed in, we’re treating it as a host. Everyone who lives in the same world as us will be distinguished with white ribbons.”

“A color-coding system?” guessed a swordswoman in a blue gown.

“Correct, Miss Sione!” The gentleman approached Sophie, tying a piece of white ribbon on her wrist, and he went on after she gave the troupe similar ribbons. “Each world that will be discussed will be given its corresponding colors on the table, and we’ll keep an eye on what sets them apart. Everyone has to be listed down and keep a ribbon that matches their home world’s color coordination. That way, it’ll be easier to distinguish who lives where, especially if we end up meeting multiple versions of ourselves.”

A chorus of interest filled the tent.

“My mother’s a tailor and designer,” explained Sophie, “so I was able to get these ribbons to work with. We made sure to check for spare rolls in case it gets really crowded.”

And everyone seemed to be fine with the plan and was eager to move on to the next agenda, when—

“U-Um… can I ask something, Sophie?”

Everyone turned to Ru-yi, who was timidly standing by the blackboard. “You said that there could be more survivors out there, right? What are we going to do if we can’t look after all of them?”

“Huh,” muttered Hanbei, “what do you know. Good call, Ru-yi. After all, we’re just one circus. There’s only much we can do.”

“O-Oh.” Sophie looked down, a bit embarrassed. “Now that you mentioned it…”

“Circus, schmircus!” suddenly cried out the black bird, gesturing smugly. “This is just fanfiction, after all! I, the Great Adventurer, Sir Puggi, say we take the easy way out, go search for the author, and give her— or hir— or them a piece of our minds!”

The room fell silent at Puggi’s odd idea.

“What? It’s the truth! Don’t give me that look!”

As the capybara and frogodile duo shushed Puggi, apologizing in his stead for his nonsensical ramblings, Clark thought to himself, putting his own experiences into consideration. Perhaps, if these inns or any similar places are also present in this world…

“Er, may I offer a suggestion?”

The crowd turned to the mechanic, and Sophie nodded.

“Back home, I stayed at the Desert Kingdom for some time,” he began, “so I know a thing or two about looking for a place to rent. We can scout for inns that offer shelter for larger groups. Sure, I’m aware that there are differences between our worlds… but maybe my knowledge might prove useful.”

“Seconding that! Maybe this can work as our main hideout, and we can switch sleeping places and scout in batches and shifts, too,” added the lancer. “That way, everyone gets to stay updated and catch up on rest!”

The ringmaster’s eyes sparkled with hope as she processed the feedback. “Does anyone have anything else to add?”

“Ah, wait!”

Clark’s eyes found the source of the sudden response, which was a woman with tanned skin and white hair. “My father’s a merchant and had connections with this Kingdom’s residents, so I know a bit of negotiation know-how. Might come in handy!”

The crowd was now buzzing here and there. Sophie was at a loss for words— maybe things were going to work out after all!

A man in heavy armor stepped forward. “Combat isn’t the only thing I’m capable of. Should you need help in the kitchen, I’m always willing to provide.”

“From Maple Lake, we came. Assist in gathering ingredients, Karnulla and I can,” spoke the capybara, with Karnulla nodding proudly beside him, still holding a protesting Puggi down.

A female panther sighed and stood up from the back. “The Panther Tribe thrived for years by our own means. If paying respects to the ancestors also means sharing whatever knowledge I have for the needy, then so be it.”

Last but not least, a lady with an odd purple cat chimed in. “I own an artisan workshop and would sometimes teach people. Our lifestyle back at Vendacti City is very different from here, but if you need any supplies, I can also be of help.”

Clearly surprised with the amount of feedback from the crowd, Sophie and the troupe turned to each other, huddled around, and made up their minds.

Once everything finally died down, Hanbei cleared his throat and spoke for the circus.

“Alright, we’re gonna give you folks a chance. But that’s it!”

Clark nodded in relief. Everyone was looking at each other with the same glimmer of hope that Sophie had. It’s Hanbei, so some sternness was to be expected, but it’s still a step forward. The ringmaster smiled at him gratefully.

“Tch.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s an emergency. Don’t get too used to it.”

Sophie simply giggled as Hanbei insisted they get it over with and fill the table up, and Clark found himself smiling at the scene. Just like old times.

Finally, after so many mysteries… they were getting somewhere.

The mechanic found himself fiddling with his feather keychain as he waited for his turn to speak up and get a ribbon.

He found the feather at the same tent a few years ago.

When Clark first met Sophie, she was looking for someone he knew well… none other than his mysterious junior. Oddly enough, he left his belongings behind at her tent, leaving Clark to suspect that something could have happened to him. After all, those dark secrets and everything he went through— joining the Civil War, fighting by his cousin’s side, discovering that he’s Theodore’s illegitimate child… they were great burdens to bear.

“For your own safety… forget that you ever saw me.”

The day he left Charle’s side and dropped out was the last time Clark ever saw him well.

And that was just the beginning.

It was morning when Clark set out, scouting for a place to stay. Normally, he’d wake up later than he did for the day, and he was still a bit sleepy from fixing some kinks in his Rune Device, but he’ll manage.

Sophie was kind enough to keep him company and help him stay awake the previous night, and spoke to him about many things. Reunions. Dreams. Loss.

Unlike the Sophie he knew (who was still a bit of a mystery for him), this one had mixed feelings for her father out of a fear of dying young and discontent. Hence the conflicting feelings towards the situation, her indecision, and the reliance on her troupe and their new companions.

Their old lives aside, who or what even awaits them all at the end, anyway? Does the afterlife truly exist? Dying like Morgan Lee… out of nowhere, with so much wasted potential and things to live for? It all sounded so painful and lonely for her.

Clark fiddled with the teal ribbon beside his keychain as he marched on. Not as lonely as a loved one surviving in exchange for everything you knew, but whatever floats your boat.

“Esteemed master, you haven't accomplished your quota. The target shop opened 2 hours ago.”

As the months passed by, Clark pondered about the feather keychain more often, and it became a general homage to what he once had. During those times where he didn’t have the Academy and his junior, he had Sophie, the circus, Rune…

And Maria. A companion like no other.

But Maria, once innocent and lively in spite of her robotic nature, was now cold and calculating. What was left of Clark’s time with her at the Desert Kingdom laid in one of his pouches, broken beyond repair.

If the mechanic weren’t any saner, he would’ve mistaken the emotionless voice that woke him up as Chuchu, chirping in mirth.

Clark briskly walked, folding several inn pamphlets and placing them in his pocket as he followed a blonde from the Feather Tribe. He was asking a lizard vendor for more information when he caught a glimpse of her, spying on crab guards from the rooftop of a restaurant.

That’s right. Crab guards. Which was… off, considering that they were guards for the Oasis Casino, if the mechanic’s memory served right. Did a commotion happen? Was the High Priest any similar in this world? Or perhaps…?

After giving his thanks to the vendor, Clark scurried off, hoping that following the blonde would give him the answers he needed.

He eavesdropped at a nearby alley, prisms and contraption at the ready in case things go further south.

The blonde, named Yamitsuki, was called upon an empty street by a cloaked man. He was accompanied by someone in a red hood and a lady that looked a lot like that Nolva from Vendacti City. A parallel version of her, probably?

“Any findings?”

“We’ve got company,” spoke Yamitsuki, brandishing her weapon in preparation for combat. “Be on your guard.”

The Nolva parallel stepped back in shock. “M-More reinforcements…?”

The cloaked man scowled in dismay towards the turn of events. “Tsk… how meddlesome.” He then turns to the hooded figure standing in front of them. “We’ve no time to waste. Dietrich, what do you suggest?”

Clark’s eyes lightened up. Dietrich— he heard that name before.

“I heard he’s stopped teaching Life Magic for nearly thirty years now, but you’ve found a way for his work to remain accessible. You’re one hard worker, that’s for sure.”

The mechanic’s words were met with a shy smile. “Please. That’s a bit too much, don’t you think?”

“Eh. I’m just being honest.” It was among the many things Clark knew about him: he was diligent. Smart. Kind. Helpful.

In fact, perhaps I even envy you.

The latter turned to the brunette. “Miss Nolva, is Waverlyde with you?”

A mild look of shock crossed her face… but considering that it wasn’t the best time to question him further, the parallel Nolva merely fabricated a response.

“I’m sorry… I don’t understand.”

The cloaked man sighed. “This is not the Nolva Carpenter we are familiar with. The way Waverlyde takes control of her body is quite different. It can and will harm anyone surrounding her, so we must proceed with caution,” he explained.

She looked down in shame, while Dietrich held back a sigh of his own.

“…Alright.”

A pair of wings unfurled— simple and pure with a hint of lavender on the tips.

“Should they catch up on us, I can handle any enemies at the backline. Miss Nolva and Waverlyde can strike the frontline; it should be able to cripple everyone enough.”

“Wait…!” The doppelganger’s eyes widened as the risks of leaving her companion out in public crashed in. “It’s too dangerous! To be honest, like Doctor Clovis said, Waverlyde is…!”

“Rest assured, Miss Nolva. Most of the casino guards never go on patrol without some kind of Armor,” he justified. “I can copy that Armor to protect myself. I’ll also use runes that’ll weaken the enemies when deemed necessary.”

“He mustn’t be underestimated… seasoned in both tactics and combat, as expected of Professor Dietrich’s son,” the cloaked man fondly commented. “And if you’re still doubtful—”

“N-No! It… it’s not that…”

A shrill noise from the distance catches Clark’s and the entire party’s attention.

“Damn it,” the winged blonde muttered. “They’ve found us.”

Nolva’s parallel seemed close to panicking when her legs gave way for a second, body swaying as she suddenly fell into a slumber… only for a Void monster to take control of it. Clark watched, taking a step back— he had never seen such a creature in his life.

Waverlyde.

It pulled out a saw from Nolva’s bag, and rushed in for the kill.

He witnessed flashes of crimson and violet and gold. The gold ones seemed familiar, like someone from his past had used magic of that caliber before.

As he mused and kept a low profile, the skirmish raged on. Gold, red, violet, red, violet, gold, violet, violet, violet, purple—

A touch of gold, just like the feather the stranger would use as a Rune Device. A touch of purple, just like the keychain he kept, made from the stray feather he found.

It’s finally over.

Dietrich was relieved as he lifted a glowing fist from the ground. “Is everyone alright?” asked he, once the guards were completely out of sight.

His cloaked companion nodded, occupied from healing minor wounds. “No major injuries on our part. The execution of your plan was nearly flawless… well done, Dietrich.”

“It’s nothing, Doctor Clovis. You all did your part.” The boy gave one sheepish smile before his attention turned to Clark, smile morphing into a look of curiosity and slight suspicion.

“Anything the matter?”

“N-No,” he stammered. “Not really, miss Yamitsuki. But…”

Waverlyde, now calm, was the next one to notice. It raised its saw upon taking sight of Clark— and the mechanic gulped, bracing himself for the worst—

“Wait!”

Dietrich rushed to block Waverlyde’s path, gently raising his hands. “I’ll take care of this, alright?” The Void monster then tilted its head as if asking how and why.

“Just… put the saw down. Please.”

It hesitated for a moment before pulling back and cleaning its saw.

And in contrast, the boy came closer and closer, soon kneeling alongside Clark.

“Pardon us. You didn’t have to witness our predicament from earlier. Are you hurt?”

The mechanic shook his head.

“That’s a relief—”

And Dietrich’s expression morphed once again, this time into that of surprise. Funny how realization came to him in waves, but his mouth went slightly dry as a result.

“Wait. I… I know you. I remember you.”

Clark wished that he could say the same thing, but instead he was just as speechless. Something was at the tip of his tongue, but it refused to leap from there.

So the boy yanked it out instead.

“…Clark? Clark Shot?”

The brunet’s eyes widened.

No.

It can’t be.

Trembling hands took those of a sweaty pair. Once Clark found his footing, he reached for that crimson hood, but Dietrich closes his eyes and pulls it down in his place, and—

And the pieces fell into place.

Silver hair. A fair complexion. Blue eyes tainted with a soft pink.

His chest swelled with emotion. His name found its way back to the tip of Clark’s tongue again, and he finally took that leap of faith—

“…Elio…?”

"Esteemed master…”

He refused to budge.

“Master Clark, you haven't accomplished your quota. The target shop is scheduled to close T minus 1 hour.”

One hour. How long had he been sitting in his room anyway? Without a word, he looked up to the window with an empty, tired gaze.

The sun has set, and perhaps… so had his.

“Awaiting your command."

"Maria... can't you see? I’m grieving."

The robot fell silent for a few moments, calculating by herself.

"Processing... grief, noun. Deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone's death.”

Everyone’s injuries and sacrifices aside, his and Sophie’s search for Elio was pretty much a success— after days of toiling and fighting, he and the Desert Kingdom were finally free from the High Priest’s clutches. Clark’s supposed to be relieved!

But according to Queen Diana’s army, he allegedly disappeared. Again. So instead, chances are that it’s Maria all over again!

As if him reeling from her sudden change of behavior wasn’t enough.

Headmaster Charle left as soon as he received the news, leaving Sophie and Rune as his main contacts during his time within the Mechanical Kingdom. Despite taking advantage of the machines’ habits in order to create a private messaging system of sorts, there was barely any news from them, let alone any about his junior. Sure, machines were flawed sometimes… but it was getting ridiculous.

Maria, built for combat, believed that one can only grow accustomed to it. He, on the other hand, was slowly growing anxious. Like a child that lost its favourite toy.

No matter how many prisms and lens he’ll tinker with, no matter how many notes he’ll take, Clark was silently struggling with the dreadful possibility that his time with Elio was among the things he once had, but will never get to treasure the same way ever again.

“I used to have a teacher who wanted to study this merchant, but he managed to escape. As he should have…”

Clark must have cursed himself when he made that joking statement.

“Maria does not understand the feeling of grief."

"...Of course you don't.”

Robots like Maria can regain their former glory and vigor. Can be repaired. But the same cannot be said of humans like him, Sophie, and Elio. Common sense, but it harshly struck a chord within Clark.

His refusal to budge was never the same ever since.

“But it’s okay. It’s not like I expect you to."

All the queen's horses and all the queen's men can never put it back together again.

Elio could only gently beam at Clark. “It’s been forever.”

No. Forever isn’t enough to describe how long we’ve been separated. But the mechanic kept that statement to himself, nodding with a smile of his own.

“Agreed… I’m glad I got to see you again.”

Elio Ceres… or Dietrich, in this case. But it’s still the Elio.

Uttering that name after years still felt and sounded foreign. A blissful reality, but it felt like fantasy.

Clark’s gaze dropped.

I was afraid you were dead.