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Chapter Text

Berdly woke up in a dark room full of soft, mechanical noises.

For the greater part of the day, he had been lying dormant on the hospital bed. He didn’t notice the hand disconnecting him from the device, it felt like the IV tube had reached the end of its length, pulled taut, and disconnected the device from him. The thought of it leaving tugged at a nerve and Berdly felt his arm twitch forward to pull it back. His mind was floating elsewhere.

               “Go on, Lightner. I know you are capable of it.”

The first thing he remembered was walking into the library with Noelle. He remembered the familiar weight of something in his right hand and the windchill coming from the air conditioning system in the computer lab. Noelle left early – that’s right, and he stayed behind. However, something about this memory raised the feathers along Berdly’s arms and he could feel his soulbeat start to rise. As the five-time reigning champion of the Spelling Bee, Berdly knew that his memory rarely failed him, so when it did, he panicked.

He tried to move his body, but he couldn’t. Something heavy was weighing him down, pressing against his chest, and stirring him back to his senses.

A clock was ticking on the wall, and Berdly’s sensitive hearing picked up on it. He followed its tune, counting the beats of his soul against the minute until they came back down to a resting rate, as he was instructed to do if he were ever in a panic. The scent of dark coffee hit him next, joined by the perforating scent of ethanol, dry and sharp. Neon lights decorated the room, but they were industrial and nothing like the holiday lights he had set up in the library. Berdly raised his eyelids just enough to let the light peek in but something white covered most of his vision, accompanied by someone talking.

“Shh, don’t move so suddenly.”

Something heavy covered him too, making it hard for him to move. The rustling of sheets against his body told him that he was wearing a gown, not armour, and that this was a bed. Finally, Berdly curled his body in and something sharp stung right across his soul. His eyes snapped open. The Doctor sat right next to him, hand resting firmly above his chest cavity and eyes fixed to the monitor beside him.

“Breathe. Count the beats against the minute. I’ll count too.”

“What happened?”

The Doctor frowned. “You tell me.”

               Berdly could faintly make out the sounds of footsteps, knocking around the shards of ice which lay strewn around him like frosted glass. A dark lift of wings covered his view, and Berdly’s head lobbed back and forth, from the nausea. Had his last breath been an exhale, he certainly would have died. Behind his chest was a sharp ache, left from hours of furious beating within a fraction of an inch between his ribcage and the block, struggling to keep his vital organs in function

               “W-where did they go… where’s our glorious Queen…?”

               Condensation coated the side of Berdly’s face, and saline dripped from the corner of his eyes to join it. His words pushed themselves out of his throat in slow beats, drunk with fresh oxygen. Thought pounded his head so feverously, he could barely sit up on his own without growing dizzy and falling back down.

               “It appears out Lady Grace has decided to leave of her own accord.” Swatch said with a sharp disdain. He gestured his beak to Berdly’s right hand, where the Halberd still lay dormant. “Go on, there isn’t much time. Do it now.”

               “Do what?”

               Berdly’s mind was a thick haze of old panic mixing with the adrenaline of newfound freedom. It left him intoxicated, too cold to move, and too hot to calm down at the same time. He swayed in his spot, still looking for Noelle as thought she might still be there or had come back for him. All around them, the buildings were crumbling, taking the residents with them. Without the Fountain, there was nothing holding up the fabric of their world anymore and unless another one appeared, he was effectively trapped.

               “You’re a Lightner, aren’t you?”

               Berdly’s eyes grew wide.

The Doctor clapped his hands to bring Berdly back to reality.

“Focus, what do you remember?”

Berdly groaned, trying to sit up before a hand pushed his back against the pillows. He blinked a few times and felt his arms begin to tingle as fluid rushed throughout his body again. Most people were scared enough of hospitals, even without having been in any accidents. Berdly had broken a wing before, yes, but he was fairly accustomed to the idea of hospitals and doctors. While they didn’t necessarily comfort him, he felt that there was nothing to be discomforted by. The Doctor looked at him intensely, like an anatomist looking at their most recent specimen. Of course, the analogy didn’t work if the specimen was still alive. He was just a patient.

“How long…?”

The Doctor didn’t look impressed. “Six hours.”

“I – I… wait, hold on.”

“Your soul wasn’t beating when you came in.”

“You mean like…”

“Medically dead? That would be correct.” He scowled. “We can talk about this afterwards. Just tell me if you had taken anything while you were in the library. I need to know if you’ve taken any medications that might affect –”

“I c-can’t move. My chest… it hurts. It really hurts.”

“Berdly, listen to me.” The Doctor ran a hand over the top of Berdly’s head to close his eyes. He leaned in and spoke to him very sternly. “You just woke up. You need to calm down. I’m going to start counting and I want you to count with me in your head. Are you ready?”

Berdly’s mind raced as all the memories from the day hit him with full force. Noelle was there with him when they fell into the Dark World. He hit the ground with a harsh thud, lucky to have reached the ground feet-first or else he could have snapped his wing. He remembered the heavy armour he donned while he was there, and there was a Queen. She had a staff: Tasque manager, the minions, and so many birds. One of them was a tall butler named Swatch.

“I put you on some heavy medications while you were out. You might be feeling a bit overwhelmed, but I assure you, they won’t leave any lasting effects. You just need to calm down. I’ve disconnected you from the IV already.”

“Nh – I…”

“Berdly, can you hear me?”

Frost engulfed his vision, suffocating the senses. Light reflected through the layer of ice in front of him and Berdly saw it as bright flashes, with every twitch the optic nerve made. Something cold and dry clasped around his neck, strangling him as sharp sticks of ice grew inside his throat. It pressed into the soft skin of esophagus and dragged the skin with it as he tried to breathe.

Noelle was floating. She looked like a morning star: ethereal and foreign, and the last thing Berdly remembered of her was the bright glow of crimson beside her, as she fell back towards the ground. Kris lingered behind for a while after that. It was Noelle who chose to leave first. And through the mess of nonsense his eyes were telling his brain, Berdly could of sworn he heard Kris say something but their mouth wasn’t moving.

“Go on, Lightner. I know you are capable of it.” Swatch’s voice was heavy and firm.

Berdly trembled on the floor, gasping as chucks of ice were fell off his feathers and scattered all around him. Swatch’s voice was stoic but warm. It carried a sustained quality that matched the weight of authority he carried around. Once the Queen’s Head Butler and now a stranded victim of peculiar circumstances, he stood firm in his convictions and wrapped a wing around Berdly to keep him focused on the task at hand.

“What are you still waiting for? They’re gone.”

“No! No, they’ll come back.”

Berdly closed his eyes and tried to gaslight himself into believing that this was all a dream. Magic was an insanely non-scientific thing to believe in. There was no way what he was experiencing was real. He had heard that sometimes, when people drink apple juice before going to sleep, it made their dreams more vivid. This had to be a nightmare.

Beside him, Swatch observed him closely, as he had been instructed to do from the very beginning. Four Lightners entered the world that day; a human, two girls, and a boy. At first, he had mistaken the boy for one of his own – a Swatchling, but that quickly proved to be another trick of the light. Swatch’s eyesight wasn’t particularly good, and although he made up for some of it by having a high degree of observation, it just wasn’t enough to help him catch a bluebird when he saw one. Most noticeably, the boy’s colouration never changed, and although it had been unusually cold around their city that day, even the most stubborn of Swatchlings became yellow or orange with the changing of their moods.

“We’re not so different, you and I.”

An idea began to form in Swatch’s mind. Intense emotions brought out the brightest of colours in his underlings, pushing them towards greater and better performances. Careful negotiation was not what brought the child with you out of the store. One had to leave reach their car and turn on the engine before the young ones snapped out of their trances and followed you.

Swatch recalled that one of the Lightners was peculiar from the others, joining Queen’s rank with a feverish devotion, desperate for approval. It was a juvenile behaviour, with even more juvenile motivations. When Swatch took a closer look at his wings from behind the ice, he was disappointed to catch a spot of gray beneath that coat of brilliant blue, evident of a child’s feathers that were not shed and feathers that were distinctly not from a Swatchling. But with it came a burst of excitement. This was not a Swatching, but a Swatchling from the Lightner’s World.

He was otherworldly. And by fate, he was sitting right in front of him.

“Berdly,” he said confidently. “If you’re not going to help me, then I’m going to leave.”

Back in the hospital bed, Berdly felt sick. His eyes stung with dry air, and he felt so tired, it hurt to sit up straight. Whatever that dream had been about, it felt real, and Berdly was living in his own made-up pathology.

“Eat this cracker. You are dangerously low on sodium. That’s it… there you go.”

The Doctor had been checking Berdly’s monitor constantly since he arrived at the hospital. In all his time as a doctor, he had never seen something so peculiar.

               Swatch let his wings fall, revealing the accelerated decay of buildings all around. Streets tore apart like ripped fabric, leaving stretched out chunks of pavement dangling off the edges in their absence. Berdly watched as a person slipped on the edge of the street and fell into the oblivion below, yelling on their way out before the noise was quickly cut. His throat tightened and he tried to turn around, but Swatch held his chin up and turned his head to face the damage.

               Berdly felt something rise in his throat.

“Are you feeling better now?”

“Yeah. I feel… fine all of a sudden.”

“You must be hungry.”

“No, I’m not hungry actually. It’s strange. I feel perfectly fine.”

The Doctor looked at him confused. Sitting in front of him was a patient who technically, had been medically dead for six hours. Yet, Berdly sat up in his seat, no longer nauseous and looking perfectly healthy. He took his crackers without complaint and tucked his arms to his sides. The Doctor didn’t bother to check what he was hiding.

“Right well, if you’re feeling better, I’m going to take you home. You have quite a bit of explaining to do and I hope to not postpone it to tomorrow. It’s already late and you have school in the morning if you feel so inclined to go.”

Berdly couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

The Doctor went over to the desk and pulled something out, wrapped in a small cloth, taking a few seconds just to stare at it. A moment later, he placed it into Berdly’s hands with a little more force than Berdly expected.

“It was in your pocket. You wouldn’t want to lose this, do you?” The Doctor’s tone was indecipherable.

“No sir.”

“They found it on the ground at the library. It’s presumably yours.”

“Library? Wait, where was I?”

The black pen gave him a small shock as The Doctor passed it to him. The pen was sleek and black, with hard edges trailing up to a fine point. Away from sight, Berdly also spotted a few charred feathers on his palm, on his writing hand.

The Doctor just looked at him sharply.

“We’ll talk about it at home.”

The Doctor put his white coat onto the hanger outside and sauntered past the door to the hallway with Berdly trailing slowly behind, holding onto that pen like a lifeline. Unlike The Doctor, Berdly was extremely attached to his things, no matter who had them first before him. What mattered was that they were his now, and Berdly didn’t like to throw things away, no matter how trivial. He was much like a crow in that regard, and less like a bluebird. He kept a stash at home, old mementos of things that The Doctor would never have thought to keep. Whereas his office was bare and minimalistic, keeping only the most necessary of things close to him, Berdly’s was a proper nest – an elaborate microcosm of his things.

The Doctor was the opposite. He kept his office cleared of any personal items, and insisted that Berdly called him that. Professionalism was his aesthetic. 

               "I'm a different person when I'm at work, you know that, right?"

He spent so much time at work that Berdly didn't know what difference that even made.

“Are you coming?”

“Yes sir.”

The world around him was gone.

Berdly felt himself go weightless first. His feathers turned dark at the tips, and Berdly stared at them in morbid fascination as the disintegration of his body stripped the feathers thin, one after another. Swatch had disappeared in an instant. Looking around, Berdly soon realized that he was completely an utterly alone. He was witnessing the last moments of a Fountain’s lifespan unfold right in front of him. A small light shone from his chest. It was the familiar glow of his soul.

He thought about Noelle, and Kris, and Susie. He wondered where they were right now, and if anybody in the real world had noticed he was gone. Lost somewhere in his own thoughts, Berdly became intimately aware of how surreal the whole experience was. Some time ago, Berdly had stopped breathing, simply because he didn’t need to anymore. The world stopped revolving, his body stopped feeling heavy, and his own feathers were growing dim with each passing second, no doubt because whatever connection he had to the real world was quickly fading too.

The moments after that were a blur.

There was nothing, no ground to set the fountain on, and no one in sight to tell him if this would be a good or bad idea. It was profoundly lonely.

And with no ground to set the fountain on, Berdly did the next logical thing. He raised his hand and felt the rush of current flow through his arm, cracking at the tip and charging with energy from God-know-where. Taking the hilt in one hand, Berdly braced himself and sent it crashing down.

The impact of the Halberd against his own chest engulfed him with such a shock that it threatened to tear him in half if he wasn’t wrapping himself so tightly, trying to hold it all together. He could feel his body spreading thin across the universe, stretched into the barest of traces, leaving only the outline of his physical form behind. Something peculiar began to happen.

Swatch was right.

The Dark World rematerialized circumferentially about the new fountain’s source of power. Some of the citizens were people Berdly knew, ripped right out of his memory, a rapid metaphysical transformation that turned faceless shapes into living characters. Others simply appeared to fill the gaps of the new canon, brought back through Berdly’s recollection of them, as though they had been there this entire time.

In a rush of vertigo, Berdly felt himself give in to the Fountain’s powers too, feeling the rush of energy distort his collective memories as he thought of home and all the other places he would rather be. He felt stronger, more powerful, and the injuries from the ice began to repair themselves, replacing fear with bravery, and devastation with a newfound, reckless desire to return home, warming him from his core all the way to the edge of his fingers. The thoughts transformed the world once more, but this time tailored to his every wish.

“Good choice. I knew you’d be able to do it. Wait… where are you going?”

And Berdly woke up in a dark room full of soft, mechanical noises, with calculative whispers by his side.

In the car, Berdly lifted a finger off the Fountain pen in his hand and looked closely at the way the passing streetlights reflected off his hand. On his right hand was a charred mark, right where he had held the Halberd, and that’s when the truth settled in at last.

It wasn’t just a dream.

Dark Worlds were very real, and somewhere in the world, he had just created another one.

Chapter Text

Berdly’s father was an affluent man.

He was a Doctor of General Medicine and also the Regional Hospital Director. On top of that, he possessed an outstanding dedication to community service, had no criminal history, and never took one gap in employment since the day he turned sixteen. He had excellent healthcare (courtesy of himself) and was able to afford the best home insurance too, all while leaving enough savings to cover five months of expenses should he ever run out of work, which was never going to happen. It was on account of all these details, plus a great credit score, that people unanimously agreed that The Doctor was perhaps the greatest candidate to become a father, at least on paper.

Qualified to speak on that issue was Berdly, as evident by all those years of knowing him, and he firmly disagreed.

His father was a deeply methodical person and possessed an algorithmic way of thinking. He behaved like a scientist, withholding all judgement until after the collection of data, and recalibrating the approach if needed. It was a much-needed philosophy in a world plagued by knee-jerk reactions, according to his father – he was a no-nonsense kind of guy. Once, he had been asked to consult the inexperienced Mayor Holiday on a project and Berdly watched as his father held back his disdain, presented three of his own ideas and merely asked the mayor to pick. He claimed that she had a unique ability to make good choices and that the project lacked an oversight which only she could provide. Berdly watched the way he controlled his voice and drew the audience in whenever he talked. Every sentence was structured for maximum effect – it yelled “master of his craft.”

Berdly’s father was profoundly eloquent.

Yet, none of that stopped him from being a lousy father. He was horrible listener and an even worse caregiver – forgetful and too busy to care. Witnessing that man cook was like watching a jar of molasses try to understand electricity. And Berdly couldn’t keep track of the number of times his father neglected to prepare dinner, opting to order something expensive instead. He cited that the nutritious quality of the food was what mattered, regardless of whether it was homemade or not. He stayed up late for work often and didn’t tell anybody. Berdly couldn’t remember either the last time the two of them ate dinner – together and at the table.

Sure, Berdly didn’t express gratitude that often. However, he learned that from The Doctor, who didn’t express gratitude that often either unless it was strictly necessary to get what he needed.

He was statuesque and cold. Berdly was too, sometimes.

“Come on Berdly, I’m taking you home.”

The ride back from the hospital was… lukewarm. Not much was said.

Berdly often got the comment that he had inherited his father’s smarts which, contrary to what many thought, Berdly didn’t consider praise. His father was one of the smartest people in the town, no doubt, and that was not the issue.

He stepped out from the backseat of their car, still dressed in a hospital gown. On field trips, Berdly was a sit-at-the-front kind of kid. At home, however, he always sat in the back, reserving both the front seats for adults. It seemed silly but Berdly held back on that convenience out of respect for a seemingly self-imposed rule stating that kids were supposed to sit in the back. Regardless, Berdly considered the action to be disrespectful. That seat very much belonged to someone else and that wasn’t him or The Doctor.

“You still keep that pen around?” The Doctor asked, as he searched in his briefcase for the key to the front door.

“For school, yeah,” Berdly said.

“What do you mean? That pen doesn’t even have ink.”

“I use the cartridge from… other pens.”

The Doctor frowned. “Explain to me how you are using generic ink cartridges in a Fountain Pen?”

“Erm, I – ”

Why don’t you use the pens I gave you?”

“Yeah, I use them.”

“You haven’t even opened the box.”

Berdly scowled. “What are they, your kids? Do you check on them every day?”

He wrapped a finger tighter around the beautiful black pen. The tip felt sharp against his feathertip, but its smooth barrel settled perfectly within the palm of his hand. Sure, Berdly didn’t actually have any ink to write with, but it was a prized possession regardless, even if The Doctor didn’t see it that way.

Berdly believed that it was perfectly fine to keep things with you just for the sake of having them around. Some people carried amethysts in their pockets because they believed that the “vibe” of the rocks kept your internal organs clean or something. Others carried pictures of their loved ones in a locket for reasons that were pretty obvious. Similarly, Berdly liked to keep his fountain pen with him, just to have it close.

The Doctor sighed.

“I just think that thing is too heavy for you to be carrying around all the time. You really ought to put it away.”

“Awe come on, it’s shiny!”

“And did a crow raise you or did I? Put that away.”

The Doctor pushed open the front door and marched in. Berdly followed close behind, a tuff of light blue behind a wall of navy.

Colour was an important signifier in most bird cultures because as the saying went: birds of the same feathers flocked together. It marked belonging. Bluebirds were gray upon birth, turned blue at the end their adolescence and darkened with age. Berdly’s feathers had been gray for much longer than anyone anticipated but The Doctor stayed patient. That or he didn’t care, which is what Berdly suspected.

“…and to quote Chapter One of Developmental Biology: Anatomical Tradition –

‘One of the critical differences between you and a machine is that a machine is never required to function until after it is built. Every animal has to function as it builds itself. For animals, fungi, and plants, the sole way of getting from egg to adult is by developing an embryo.’

So just take your time Berdly, I’m sure you’ll get your feathers in someday.”

Developmental Biology was The Doctor’s favourite reading. It was insane, the kind of random things he used to read to Berdly before bedtime. Berdly knew what a glucose transporter was before he even knew the word “smoothie”. The townsfolk used to joke, about what The Doctor would do if his son grew up to be a different colour than expected.

“Such a trivial thing to fascinate over. Colour is not a verb, and in other words, not a practice. I can only control whether he is smart or not. The rest is nature’s doing and God knows that I have no part in deciding that.”

Regardless, after Berdly’s first shedding, there was a neat row of blue plumage, visible in the most perfect shade to match his. Although The Doctor really was unexpectedly pleased by that development, he still stood firm in his conviction that he would not have cared even if Berdly grew up looking more like a crow. If there was one thing The Doctor did care about, it was his legacy.

“My son is going to be an Oxford man, I just know it.”

“I want you to have choices when you are older.”

“Why aren’t you applying yourself?”

Berdly slunk against the front door and waited until he heard the click of an automatic lock settling back into place. Home seemed like a million lightyears away, even though he was inside it. The kitchen ahead looked empty; the whole house felt empty, actually. Most importantly, Berdly’s stomach felt empty. The last thing he ate was probably lunch… nearly ten hours ago.

Once inside the house, The Doctor began his metamorphosis. He was becoming Berdly’s father again, not that there was much of a difference between the two.

“How tired are you?” He asked, as he took off his tie and laid it against the couch.

“Somewhat. I feel fine if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I didn’t ask you if you were fine, I asked if you were tired.”

“Somewhat. Is that not what I said?”

“I understand that you have had a medically complicated day but there’s no need to be so curt. The hour is late, and I was only going to suggest that you take one of these.”

He handed Berdly an unopened bottle of sleeping aids, the kind that he occasionally took after a long flight or a particularly stressful day. Now, before anyone could shake their head in disapproval, it was worth mentioning that The Doctor’s medical knowledge didn’t disappear as soon as he became Berdly’s father. One sleeping aid was relatively harmless.

“Anyone’s circadian rhythm would be disrupted after spending so long lying in a hospital bed,” he said, removing his sweater while Berdly stood idly nearby. “If you want to attend school tomorrow, I suggest you go to sleep soon.”

“I’m not that tired. Should I take two?”

He looked at the old man under the kitchen light, old and visibly tired. His visage showed years of stress creased into the space beneath his eyes, only partially concealed by the short feathers which grew from graying roots. Those subtle hues of his plumage were invisible under the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital but were clear as ever under the soft golden light of the kitchen.

Zipping up his briefcase, he placed it atop of one of the kitchen chairs.

The Chair appeared in every household. In their kitchen, they had three chairs and one of them was The Chair, the one that was simultaneously the coat rack, laundry basket, bookshelf, grocery holder, and far too many other roles to count. It was truly an overworked chair compared to the two. One had been unused for years. The other was Berdly’s but both him and his father ate from their respective rooms. Most days, it didn’t matter whether the kitchen had three chairs or just one.

“One is plenty,” his father said, as he undid the first few buttons on his work shirt. “And remember, only take one. I cannot stress this enough. You just got into an accident, and you do not need to have a sleeping problem on top of that.”

“… yeah, of course.” Berdly said, reading the label. “You know that not a single one of these chemical ingredients is an addictive, right?”

“I’m well aware.”

“You know how I know that? I have chemistry test tomorrow. You can’t get hooked on something that doesn’t contain any additives. It’s physiologically impossible.”

“Humour me, then. How much studying do you need to finish before you understand that it’s not good to take any substance above its recommended dose?”

“Yeesh, I was just making a point here. I’ve never seen anyone get high off a good night’s sleep. I get that ‘anything enjoyable can be the ultimate drug’ or however the saying goes but – “

“Berdly.”

“ – Can people really get addicted to sleeping? I mean, that what lazy people are all about. I think –“

“Listen to me.” His father grabbed Berdly firmly by the shoulders. “What really happened at the library today?”

Berdly froze to the floor. It was the question that he had been dreading.

“I – I really… can’t explain it.”

“Did someone do this to you?” He leaned in so close, Berdly couldn’t turn his eyes away. “Answer me truthfully.”

“… no,” Berdly pleaded.

“No?”

“I meant no… as in – no one did anything.”

“So, it was all a miracle then. That’s your answer?”

Berdly shook his head, but his father only squeezed his shoulders tighter, desperate to pry an answer out of him. There was a saying in this household: even open-ended questions had wrong answers.

But truthfully, what was Berdly supposed to say? That imaginary worlds were real, and he had travelled to one for a short period of time? That Noelle had gone with him and abandoned him when it was time to leave?

Berdly wasn’t convinced that anything he dreamed was real, despite the amounting evidence against it. The burn marks on his hand from holding the hilt of the halberd were still there, and his chest still ached from where he had struck himself with it. Yet, he held on to the opposing argument that if Dark Worlds were indeed real, then everything Noelle did must have been real too and that couldn’t possible be right.

By nearly every interpretation of what happened, Noelle had left him there to die.

Berdly remembered the moment when Noelle snapped back to reality, watching her through numb eyes against the ice. She gasped in quiet horror at what she had done and yet, even with Kris’ influence taken off of her, she chose to walk away.

She and Kris parted ways. He waited, but neither returned.

The real Noelle that Berdly knew would never have abandoned him. In fact, she was probably worried sick and if Berdly texted her right now, she would reply in a heartbeat. Berdly wouldn’t be able to hear the end to her rant about how crazy everything sounded and that he had simply overworked himself.

There is no such thing as a Dark World.

“Noelle was with you at the library, right? Was she there when it happened?”

“…”

“Answer me. Does Noelle know anything about what happened?”

“No.”

“Then how you ended up in the closet? Huh? If no one was with you? Did you crawl in there by yourself?”

“My mind is just fuzzy right now,” Berdly lied. “I just need to sleep it off. But I swear… Noelle, she – she wasn’t there. I think I fell asleep.”

“Fell asleep in the closet.”

“I was overworked maybe.”

“Overworked huh?” Berdly’s father stood up, frustrated. He ran a hand over his forehead, feathers bent in all directions like a madman. “Overworked with what, exactly?”

“Hell, I don’t know? My shift with Mrs. Boom who is probably going to be mad at me for not showing up today, the whole Library volunteer thing, and you know I have a chemistry test tomorrow! There’s a group assignment I’m supposed to take care of, and the spelling bee is coming up, but I still have all this other homework to do. To top it off, you keep bugging me to apply for all these stupid scholarships!”

“God forbid that I want you to care about your own college admissions…”

“Oh my God, that’s not what I said!”

“Tell me the truth.”

“Well, I am telling you the truth! What more do you want to know!?”

“I want to know who you were with when you fell unconscious at the library. Can’t you see that I’m trying to help you?”

“…”

“Tell me tomorrow, then,” he said with a disappointed sigh. “Get some proper rest and I’ll speak with your teachers.”

That was the last thing Berdly wanted to hear, really.

“Are you sure you’re not mad?”

“Mad? God, Berdly, you have the worst opinion of me out of everyone in this town and I have no idea why. Why shouldn’t I be concerned when someone finds my son unconscious in public? Huh? Shoved into the closet for who knows how long, I…”

“I’m sorry, I – ”

“Don’t you dare interrupt me while I’m speaking.”

“N-no sir.”

“Now tell me. Using only the truth and nothing else. Who was in the library with you today? I already called the librarian and I distinctly remember her saying that you came in with someone. I don’t want to hear you say no one. I know for a fact that it is not true.”

Berdly could feel the pressure rising to his throat. He had to be careful about what he would say next.

“I remember going to the library,” he starts. “I remember making it to the front door. And then, I woke up in the hospital.”

“What were you going to the library for?”

“To study. For the… Spelling Bee. For – for that scholarship.”

“Earlier,” his father said as he straightened his back to tower over Berdly’s frame, “you mentioned a group project. Is that right?”

Berdly nodded hesitantly.

“By any chance, was your partner the one who went to the library with you today?”

Shit... Shit shit shit…

“M-maybe. My memory is fuzzy starting from that point.”

“Shh, I know. Loss of memory is common among those who have gone into a period of unconsciousness. But tell me, I need to know. Was Noelle, by any chance, your partner for this group project?”

There was no way Berdly could lie about this. If his father wanted to, he could just ask Alphys.

“Yes,” Berdly said reluctantly.

The expression on his father’s face was unreadable.

“I – I’ll go take one of these and go to sleep. Just like you said,” Berdly said meekly as he waved around the bottle, with a smile for good measure.

“You do that.” He said firmly. “I have a phone call to make.”

The ambience of the room was mind-numbingly dull, made only slightly less lonely by the hum of the freezer, half empty since neither of them had time to go shopping recently.

Like his old man, time hasn’t treated the kitchen well, either.

Berdly’s stomach growled.

The sink was prone to clogs, the cabinets mostly stayed shut because the hinges were rusted in some places, and spices were just laid out on the table since nobody really needed to maintain appearances while they were in their own home. It was an expensive house, but it certainly didn’t feel like an expensive one.

He didn’t have the guts to ask his father to cook something for him at this hour. Especially not after a confrontation like that.

With a bottle of sleeping aids in hand, Berdly made his way over to the cabinet.

A glass of water had to do.

The crowd was not that large, given the small population of the school but Berdly had never seen so many people all in one place before. The first time he participated in a spelling bee felt overwhelming. He was used to being in the crowd. Something about it felt illegal. Berdly didn’t feel right to set foot onto the stage, because the only people who went up to such high places were people like the guidance counsellor, his homeroom teachers, and the mayor. The Doctor was among those types of people. He delivered conference presentations in large convocation halls and spoke to hundreds of people at a time.

You ever visited a university, Berdly? Think homeroom but a hundred times bigger.

That trip to Oxford was exhilarating, even if he didn’t personally care about what a ‘Glucose-6-phosphate dehydrogenases’ was. What was astonishing was that he still understood it, courtesy of The Doctor’s ability to teach.

You could be up here someday, Berdly. Oh, you don’t know just how happy I would be, to see you receiving your doctorate on that stage someday.

One step at a time. I’ll help you there.

The Doctor sat in the audience that day, in attendance with all the other parents there to watch the annual spelling bee. A couple of Berdly’s classmates were there too, which cheered him up a bit, even though he knew that they weren’t there to see him, specifically. Berdly waited backstage with all the other kids, with nothing to fumble in his hands so he tapped his foot against the wooden boards. He had no idea how The Doctor managed to teach so unwaveringly in front of thousands.

Berdly’s mind ran empty in those in-between moments. Nearby, some of the younger students began to gather in the distance, pointing to him.

He doesn’t even need to study…

Who is that, again?

Look at him! He’s not even scared.

“Berdly, don’t be stressed,” said the guidance counsellor who always managed to see something different from the rest of the world. “Your parents are probably rooting for you!”

Berdly looked at her with a dry smile. “Thanks… I’m not stressed anymore.”

Lying to a counsellor’s face was something everyone did at some point in their lives.

Once, Berdly had been called in to have a quick discussion of his “next steps” where he had impulsively joked that he aspired to be an astronaut. To his astonishment, the counsellor beamed and encouraged him to go for it as though that were a valid career direction. Berdly itched to tell the counsellors that to date, only about fifteen people have ever been proper astronauts and so statistically speaking, it would have been easier to aspire to win a Nobel prize. It would have been easier, in fact, to surpass The Doctor, something which Berdly knew was impossible to do.

Another time, Berdly told her conversationally that his dad liked to drink and that he often made Berdly try some too. It only took about five minutes for her to haul Berdly’s father from the hospital to the school, demanding that he explained himself. It took them an additional five minutes to realize that Berdly was referring to that healthy living kale craze that everyone was on and that he simply lacked the vocabulary to communicate was a smoothie was. That night, Berdly’s father handed him a dictionary and told him to read it front to back enough times until he could spell and recall every word’s definition with his eyes closed.

Berdly stopped asking the counsellor for advice when she suggested that he took up bullet journaling to cope with the stress of finding friends at school. He wasn’t stressed at all. He just didn’t like softball, which was the popular sport on the playground at the time. The counsellor arrived at the bizarre conclusion that if he wasn’t into softball like the other kids, he must have been somewhat clinically depressed or at least socially ostracized.

In Berdly’s mind, guidance counsellors were a bit of a sham.

The counsellor was a strange woman with a bit of a saviour complex. It was a frankly rude thing to assume about a woman he barely knew but Berdly couldn’t help it. Luckily for him, the woman had always insisted that while it was impossible control your first thought, but you could always control your second. Berdly’s second thought was that the counsellor was a strange woman with a bit of a saviour complex.

He absolutely did not struggle to make friends; he just wasn’t into softball. Like his father, Berdly was the type that enjoyed reading.

Back in years at Oxford Medical School, Berdly’s father had once been invited to go to the beach and he dealt with it by reading up on the subject in excruciating detail.

“Mary’s room,” his father once explained to him, “is a philosophical thought experiment. If a person read everything there was on a subject, say on the colour red, then would they be able to recognize it upon seeing it?”

“Huh…” Berdly remembered saying.“That sounds cool. I think – “

“I investigated the issue with a team of scientists at Oxford. We took a cohort of colourblind individuals and tested a new genetic technology to restore some of the functional diversity in the cones of their retina. After they were able to see color, they still couldn’t recognize red.”

“Oh.”

“Thus, Mary’s Room been scientifically shown to be false. You can’t learn everything just by reading about it. That applies to everything.”

After nearly drowning at the beach (since bluebirds weren’t built for water), he gave up any further offers to go to the beach and vowed to never leave his work again. Toriel was the opposite; she learned by doing. It was an important quality to have when it came to raising children. You could read every text on how to raise children and you would still struggle unless you gave it a few tries of your own. The Doctor, she felt, obviously knew this principle down to the philosophical theory but somehow, he still didn’t understand it. At least, he didn’t act like like he understood it.

She admittedly did bother Berdly a bit often at school, though she found it hilarious to see what he would say every day when given a chance to speak.

Berdly didn’t actually think the counsellor was a bad teacher or anything. He just didn’t like that she tried to rope him into bullet journaling that one time.

Beside him backstage, Noelle was doing her last-minute studying. Dressed in a white summer dress, she appeared like a Christmas angel, ripped straight from a children’s book. In her hands were a few crumpled papers, no doubt from reading it so many times.

“Hey, are you nervous?” She asked. “You look so still, standing there like that. Monster Kid told me that you must have prepared beforehand, hah.”

“I mean, yeah. Do people not study for things anymore?”

She grimaced and feigned a smile. “… Have I seen you somewhere before?”

“I’ve been here for like, two years. I was in one of your classes, Noelle. Don’t you remember?”

“Oh! I think I do? I just kind of erm – ”

“Forgot?”

Her cheeks glowed with embarrassment. “W-what! No, of course not! You must’ve sat behind me or something!”

“…”

“But I promise not to forget again!”

Berdly looked down at the crumpled sheets in her hand. The mutual stress for the stage felt oddly comforting, like a solidarity established through mutual suffering. He didn’t have any papers of his own to bring with him that day but perhaps he could share one of hers. The thought was uplifting.

“Okay,” he said, smiling. “The next time I see you, I’ll quiz you on it.”

“Deal!”

Berdly put the bottle of sleeping aids under the kitchen sink. Was that an appropriate place to put it? God no. However, Berdly didn’t want to start any more conversations with his father, so he drank his water quietly and left without a noise.

Berdly hoped the Holidays were asleep. He didn’t want his father’s call to go through.

He retreated to the familiar darkness of his room, soft and quiet. His phone was still at the foot of his bed, which he had thankfully left at its charger that day and had not lost it somewhere during the time which he was out cold. In that time, Noelle had texted him three times and that was it as far as his phone reported. Not even his virtual farming game left him a notification.

Berdly shook off the disappointment.

4:56 – You fell asleep in the library. I brought your books to your house.

6:10 – Are you still at the library?

6:15 – Is your phone dead?

Hell, I was medically dead for a few hours, Berdly thought.

He quickly entered something into the text bar, hoping Noelle was still awake somewhere, worrying for him. If his father’s call did go through, he reckoned Noelle should have some decent time to prepare her defense, not that she needed one.

It wasn’t as though Dark Worlds were real.

11:34 – Back from the hospital.

11:34 – I LIVED!!

Let’s play Stardew again if you’re free, he wanted to text.

He and Noelle hadn’t been to that world in ages. They had so much stuff built up there, Berdly just itched to go back, but he resisted.

11:35 – I was in the hospital for a coma in case you were wondering.

11:35 – Birds are like, evolutionarily suited for hibernation. Something like that anyway. What I mean is that I am perfectly fine.

11:36 – Anyway, I had the weirdest dream while I was comatose.

Berdly’s hands were shaking.

I swear it was all real. Give me a sign, I don’t want to sound insane.

11:36 – You were there too.

11:36 – And so were Susie and Kris. I had no idea why they were there, but you know how dreams are.

He picked his words carefully, like a blacksmith for words – a wordsmith or something. A five-time champion of the school spelling bee. Maybe not a Regional Hospital Director, but a little star of his own little field. Every word counted. If he hit enough key words, Noelle was bound to know what he was talking about.

11:40 – Just wanted to say that you might want to proceed with some caution. My father thinks you might have ganged up on me or something. Don’t worry though, I didn’t say anything to make you look bad. The whole thing brushed over and everything’s chill now.

11:41 – I know you wouldn’t have done something like that

And you wouldn’t have walked away, would you? However, Berdly decided against sending that. Desperation didn’t sound cool.

11:41 – At the very least you would have come back to finish the job LMFAOOO.

Berdly closed his phone and waited.

When Berdly met Toriel again after the next spelling bee, he found out that the school had a principal and that wasn’t the same thing as a guidance counsellor, apparently.

“How is your father doing?” She asked.

Toriel liked to single him out after class for a quick chat, usually to ask if he wanted a ride home with her and Kris. Sometimes it was to rope him into doing ‘gratitude journalling’ or ‘mindful meditation’, whatever that was.

“He’s at the hospital.”

“Oh no!?” She teased.

“No, he still just works there.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” she said with a light chuckle. “Do you want to ride home with Kris and I?”

Berdly shook his head.

“I’m going to the library with Noelle. We’re almost finished piecing together this theory which connects all the Street Fighter lore together,” he said excitedly. “It’s for English class and – ”

“It sounds like you finally made some friends, my dear.”

The Doctor didn’t have the biggest sense of heart, so Berdly could appreciate the fact that Toriel did.

“I mean, I…”

“I’m proud of you.”

His first thoughts of her were a little harsh, yes, but over time, his second thoughts became better and moved to replace his scathing first impressions. Toriel was his favourite teacher when she wasn’t trying to goad him into practicing ‘self affirmations’ or whatever. She stopped suggesting that he picked up bullet journaling, (which later Berdly found out was one of Asriel’s hidden hobbies, hence why she thought so highly of it) and respected Berdly’s refusal to be driven home.

Upon Berdly’s request, Toriel had also stopped joking that he got his smarts from his father.

Berdly didn’t need to hear that. He already knew that he was smart.

By this point, he had already won two spelling bees.

Berdly laid on the bed, waiting for something to sound on the phone but nothing ever came. Noelle wasn’t responding.

She’s asleep. He reassured himself. She’s asleep because as far as she’s aware, it is just another school night.

After their third spelling bee win, Noelle finally said it.

“Berdly, you’re pretty smart, you know that?”

“And you only noticed that today?” Berdly feigned a brush movement with his hand, as though sweeping the hair out from his face as Noelle often did.

“Hey, that was a compliment! You know you’re being mean, right?”

“Maybe smart people are just mean. I mean, my father’s mean sometimes.”

“Well yeah, and you probably inherited that too.”

She laughed with a grimace on her face, eyes squeezed tight as the corners of her mouth rose to meet the dimples of her cheek. Berdly however, stood lukewarmly beside her, watching as Mr. Third Place took the chance to whisper something into Noelle’s ear. Monster kid didn’t have any arms to his face when he talked so no matter how quiet it was, Berdly could see the words in the shape of his mouth.

Berdly knew Monster Kid, albeit reluctantly so; he liked firefighters, he liked community leaders, all sorts, and he wanted great things. His father told him all that.

"Have some of his ambition, can’t you Berdly? I didn’t give you all these resources for naught."

"Noelle is her name, huh? The Holiday’s daughter."

"She’s a smart girl, you say. Well, I imagine her parents must be very proud."

Noelle looked to Berdly curiously. She looked to Monster Kid and then back at him. Berdly just stared.

The gears in her brain were starting to click in place.

Berdly had few people in his life who really knew him well, with Noelle having been one of them. She gathered a lot about him over the short time that they had been friends.

He was a huge bookworm and learned a lot of words by seeing them first, hence why he occasionally pronounced some of them wrong. His father always used the Oxford Comma in his sentences and if you listened closely, Berdly always prolonged the gap in between the final two words of a list because he likely used the Oxford Comma too. His father was a talented doctor but the one phrase Berdly hated to hear was that he had inherited his father’s smarts. Noelle never knew why.

“I still think you get your smarts from your dad.” Noelle said unwaveringly, standing firm in her conviction. “Knowledge is taught.”

Monster Kid looked unsatisfied at her conclusion, but Noelle wasn’t the gossiping type. She usually had something positive to say and Berdly appreciated that.

Another thing Noelle learned about Berdly was that he was an incessant worrier. He was an overthinker by five chess moves, manuscript memorizer, and even though no one in his life had ever witnessed his first words, they were probably “Um, actually” due to the sheer amount of overanalyzing that he did for every bit of information presented to him.

She knew that Berdly could solve percentage calculations in a matter of seconds, just off the top of his head, from that time she joined him for a trip to the grocery store. But she also saw the pages and pages of grade calculations in his notebooks, three sets of calculations for every permutation of test scores he could have gotten, and five more for how that might affect his final grades. She saw how upset Berdly seemed when the class watched some dragon movie in class that one time and it had gotten to the part when the Viking kid’s dad disowned him.

"We’re still friends, right?"

"Of course… why wouldn’t we be friends??"

"Don’t fret, my dear Noelle, I was just keeping tabs on our comradery."

Memories flooded Berdly’s head as he turned off his phone and returned to his bed. He stopped waiting for Noelle to text back after the hour slipped past midnight.

Berdly’s breathing slowed. The ache in his chest dulled. He could feel himself slipping away to sleep, as random memories poured over him and filled the empty spaces of his thoughts. It was him, lying on a bed in a cotton hospital gown, twirling a black fountain pen between his fingertips like some did with their amethysts or with pictures of their loved ones.

Nearby, The Doctor’s pencil lay discarded onto Berdly’s desk next to a pack of unopened pens.

It was a heavy reminder.

Berdly wished he could prolong the magical period of time from when a person laid down on their bed to the time that they actually fell sleep. It was a thing to savour, that stagnant drop of time in a sea of angry tides, a small window in which one could daydream and truly have nothing else expected of them to do. He could feel the tides rushing back in as he ebbed away from his surroundings. Cool air drifted over the bridge of his beak and his back settled into the fabric of his bed. In a soft gesture of no return, Berdly's mind slipped loose from the surly bonds of Earth and drifted off to sleep.

It was profoundly comforting – otherworldly, even.

Chapter Text

The sheets were softer than anything on Earth.

Berdly brushed his arm against the side of the pillow and let his eyes wander open on their own. The atmosphere around him felt warm against his beak, like a second blanket.

Something was strange. He could not feel his pen anywhere beside him. Berdly was confident that he had left it beside him when he last closed his eyes. Feeling beneath the pillow, Berdly also realized that he had not woken up in his room at all. The bedding was made of some perplexing material, colder than silk and softer than fleece. It was certainly not anything Berdly or his father had in their house, as there were only a few fabrics in the world that had such a low thermal conductivity and store-brand linen was not one of them.

Berdly lurched upright in an instant, jostling the feathers around his head like a madman. He shoved the sheets aside, noticing in fascination that they were impossible to crinkle and yet, they bent and distorted like any two-dimensional sheet would. They felt cold under his grasp, but thermally unconducive wasn’t entirely accurate.

The silk-like material wasn’t cool to the touch because it was resistant to heat. If that were the case, he would have felt the coldness of air around him as he woke up, assuming his body retained all that heat while he was sleeping. Instead, the air around him felt much warmer, inviting him away from the covers faster than any clock could do. The bedding had been stealing heat from him while he slept and to where that heat went to, Berdly had no clue. All he knew was that he was feeling colder with each passing second that he spent on that bed, and it certainly didn’t help that he was running on an empty stomach. Berdly could feel his fingers going numb, just from yearning for a bagel.

He sighed in relief as the warmth of the room settled over him like fresh bread against the back of one’s hands. It pulled him out and further into the room like open arms which crept backwards from a child who was just beginning to learn how to walk.

Running his hands down his front, he noticed that the hospital gown he worn to bed was now a white pressed shirt. Where there used to be short shoulder caps, there were now long billowing sleeves. It was the kind of pretentious thing that one could imagine seeing in a period drama, but it suited the form of a bird surprisingly well. He could spread the joints of his wings with ease, contrary to the shirts he normally wore, which were restrictive and narrow – clearly meant for a different shape of arm.

Who on Earth wears something like this to bed?

It took Berdly all of two seconds to realize that he wasn’t on Earth anymore.

The chill of the fabric, the pearlescent white of his clothes like woven flakes which sucked the heat from him; it was otherworldly.

Berdly clutched at his chest, panicking. He searched the walls for a clock which he could use to count the beats against the minute – a technique he knew wasn’t medically relevant for anything but since The Doctor taught him that, he trusted the method and –

Well, if I’m here… then in the real world I’m…

Berdly surveyed the walls, trying not to think about it as he felt his resting rate begin to climb.

If he walked in now, would he think that I fell back into a coma?

The last time adrenaline hit him so suddenly, he had been trapped in a Dark World, but now he was back.

Dark Fountains… there’s got to be one around here.

Around him, the walls were distinctly lacking in clocks, which Berdly didn’t think was so strange until he noticed that for an otherwise furnished room, it was almost entirely undecorated. Empty but elegantly ornate frames decorated the walls of navy blue around him, reaching up towards a high ceiling that was dim to match. The whole room possessed an air of superiority to it, and most would have called it pretentious to live in a place like this. Berdly however, thought otherwise. All it needed was some more garnishing and it would’ve been perfect. Everything about this place was admittedly already beautiful, from the ceiling height, seamless against the walls, down to the dark oak boards which stretched across the room.

Like the halls of Oxford, Berdly recalled from his father’s work trip last summer, as he started to relax again.

He tried not to think about his father in a moment like this. As long as he got home soon enough, he could worry about him later.

Berdly wandered around the room, staring at the bookshelves which lined the walls to either side of him. He reached over and noticed pleasantly how unrestrained it felt to stretch out the feathers of his hands while wearing a long-sleeved shirt for once. He picked out a thin but tall book, hoping that it would be some kind of visitor’s guide, not that anyone would keep such a thing in a bedroom. Berdly just figured that as long as a book was sufficiently small, there was less of a chance that it would be something unhelpful, like a bible or some kind of spell book – a grimoire.

The thought of magic sent pinpricks of cold down his back. Perhaps it was the lack of food in his stomach that made his posture stiff with ache, or the reduced sugar in his body that made him grow cold and tired. Regardless, his stomach growled.

It’s blank. Are these just props?

He flipped across the entirety of the book, observing every empty manila page that passed by, untouched and lacking even an oily fingerprint to make history there. He tried to flip through it quietly, not wanting to arouse the attention of anyone who may have been outside the room, but he couldn’t stop his empty stomach from groaning into the dense atmosphere.

His finger stopped on one page.

For The Beauty of Baking,

There’s something ethereal about the etiquette of baking: the meditation of the method, the contemplating and adjusting, the connection of the kitchen, and the divine joy of creation. That compelling urge—to create something which can heal others—became chronic with me.

The more I shared in that joy, the more I baked. Soon, it struck me that about once a month, I could gather a group of people together and share in the instruction of failure, knowing that what mutually connected the starch to the water could connect us, person to person, as well.

It comes to me every day now, complexly constructed, and seriously studied. I’ve encountered many recipes which have taken me utterly spellbound. The perfect lesson for sharing exists and it is a genuine magic.

What followed were a series of short recipes. Berdly knew that at Queen’s castle, there were chefs and butlers, among other staff. Would it really be farfetched to assume this place had staff too? Had he been rescued by one, perhaps, and that was why he was here?

One by one, the pages in the book began to reveal themselves: years of novelettes and recipes were documented here, in all their purple prose glory. The Alchemist, Berdly decided to call them, lived an extensive life full of small domestic adventures with many other characters, left unnamed.

Not wanting to pry where he might get into trouble for digging, he placed the book back onto its shelf. The Alchemist was Berdly’s best hope of finding that Fountain. Most people in the Cyber World mistook him for a Swatchling at first, meaning that those who were native to Dark Worlds relied on outwardly appearances to identify others with, and did not possess any superior ability to recognize a foreigner when they saw one. If that was true, then most people did not have any reason to hurt him. He kept in mind that the last time he went to a Dark World, it had been someone that Berdly personally knew who had… done what they did.

Berdly twisted the beautiful ornate knob on the door of the bedroom and stepped into the hall.

Wow, he thought, it really does look like Oxford.

Velvet carpets trailed along the wooden floors, leading down an increasingly warmer path, which smelled of fresh cinnamon. He barely had to walk, as the tantalizing lull of something friendly beckoned him forward and into the brighter part of the manor all on its own. The path was brightly lit by obedient flames, which sat in lanterns above him, high in the air.

Like stardust…

Something about the carefully crafted ambience in those halls made Berdly stand up taller as he walked. He let the pearlescent sleeves of his shirt swing with his rhythm of his arms, beating against the faint wind of the hall like sails along a sea of navy-blue painted walls. Although the carpet silenced his footsteps, Berdly imagined himself faintly tapping his talons against those marvelous floors, like dress shoes against marble. If his father could see him now, he would have mistaken Berdly for an Oxford Undergraduate. Oh, what an incredible honour that must be…

“It’s the seductive allure of academia,” Berdly remembered his father saying, during their last trip. “Powerful and prestigious – fantasy knows no bounds. It is important to know an end to that intellectual wandering. Never has it done any good for anyone.”

As he walked down those halls, Berdly couldn’t help but that feeling of wandering return to him from years ago, when he came home to an empty house, ready to indulge in a good book. They had rows of bookshelves not unlike the ones in The Alchemist’s room, which was an extreme boast, given the cost of what they had on those shelves. For all the minor problems that lurked around the home, money wasn’t one of them.

“If it’s educational, then you can have it. However, it must improve the moral quality of the reader. I cannot stress this enough; I don’t want you reading texts that you are not old enough to understand.”

His father knew that Berdly’s hands were never still, laced with an adrenaline which took his fingers out from his pockets and into dangerous places. Before computers, reading gave him something to hold in his hands, and most importantly, it gave Berdly somewhere to go, all while going nowhere outside of the house.

“Adrenaline,” his father would say, “is a dangerous thing to chase. Risk should never feel enticing.”

Closer to the end of the hall, Berdly could hear the sound of an older woman singing to a backdrop of crackling flames. The heat of something irresistibly familiar was right at his fingertips, lingering over the handle of the door. The smell was enough to make a person’s stomach feel full, even without the physical sensation of taste. Twisting the door handle silently, Berdly walked in. He didn’t have an expectation for The Alchemist’s physical appearance, but the sight of them still managed to catch him off guard.

“Young Master, you are awake.”

Berdly stood there dumbfounded. “Ms. – Ms. Toriel?”

She put on a set of large mittens and carried out a pie from the stove, setting it on the table. With a snap of her fingers, the flames in the stove flickered out and left only the memory of heat behind, with the smoke still reaching towards the pie. She took out a slice and set it on a plate. The spoon was already placed atop a folded napkin.

“It’s fresh, so be careful dear.”

Berdly could only stand there and stare. “How did you… do you know where we are??”

“Of course, Young Master. Are you alright?”

Hearing someone else’s mother call him ‘Master’ made Berdly cringe down to his core. To put it into perspective, he’d sooner prefer to hear his father call him some gross name like ‘sweetheart’ than prefer to hear his teacher, much less his principal, call him anything besides his name.

“Eugh… please stop calling me that. Don’t you think it’s weird, Ms. Toriel?”

“Oh, am I startling you?”

Startling him was an understatement. Berdly could collapse right through the floor and fold himself back home to the real world out of sheer embarrassment.

“Perhaps I could call you Young One. I am a stickler for manners, after all.”

“That’s… fine I guess??”

“Well then, Young One, I do think you should eat something. In the meantime, I have some pupils that need my attention. Unless of course, you’d rather I stay here with you?”

Berdly stopped trying to ask her if she was dreaming too because evidently enough, Toriel in the kitchen was not the same Toriel from school. Her glasses frames sat on her nose like thick picture frames, and they were so round that it made her look a bit on the side of unhinged. It was this exact version of Toriel that had accused him of being bullied, all because he didn’t like to throw around softballs at recess. It was the same Toriel who told him about bullet journaling and mindful meditation and gratitude something something, and baking probably, and –

This was a Toriel so congruent with what Berdly could remember of her that she was practically ripped out from a page of Berdly’s memory.

The Oxford-style walls. The empty frames in the room he started in, waiting to be filled. The empty books which became full once Berdly had a recollection. And now his own principal was here too in this Manor, this …

Smartopia. Where Noelle and I reign supreme.

Was that not what this place was? Berdly’s thoughts grew worrisome. Did that mean that Noelle was here with him too?

“Ms. Toriel… who are your pupils, exactly?”

Her purple gown just barely grazed the floor as she walked, lightly bending the shape of the carpet as she walked: all proof of her physical existence here.

“You have never met Alphys before? She has always worked with me here in the kitchen.”

“Oh yeah, I totally knew that she was here.” (Berdly didn’t). “But I was just wondering… is Kris here?”

In the event that this was all an elaborate trick, Berdly decided not to drop Noelle’s name first. Algorithmically thinking, Berdly decided that there were two possible outcomes: Ms. Toriel either knew about Kris or she didn’t. In the event that she did, Berdly could then follow up with a question about Noelle after gauging what the dangers of telling her were. Then, he could gather them all up, depending on what their mood for violence was, and –

“Who is Kris? Are they coming to the coronation?”

“I’m sorry, the what?”

“Young One, are you not feeling well? Perhaps you should have a seat and enjoy some of that pie, I have a feeling it is perfectly tailored to your taste.” She gave him a knowing wink.

The silver spoon in front of him sparkled on command.

She didn’t leave you a fork or a knife. She left you a spoon. Is this a sign – that she wants you to be unarmed?

Somewhere along his walk down the hallway, Berdly swore to himself silently that he would never pick up that Halberd again. Dark World powers wasn’t to be messed around with and Berdly had learned that almost fatally. His chest ached with every step he took, and he just knew that if Swatch’s last words were true in any sense, then somewhere in the manor, he was definitely waiting for him, possibly to exact a revenge. Evident from his five-time reigning championship of the spelling bee, Berdly was the last person to play something if he knew he couldn’t win.

“So, who else is here?” He asked, while picking up a small bite.

“I am here with everybody else!”

That’s not very helpful, he thought. Does she think I’m being suspicious? She has to. Parents are always thinking you’re up to something suspicious.

“Oh, I was just curious to know because I could use some company.”

“How about I keep you company?”

Berdly scoffed. “Aren’t you busy with work?”

“This is my dutiful post, yes.” She leaned down to meet Berdly’s height. “But for as long as you would like, I can stay.”

“… R-really?” The words struck Berdly by surprise.

“Yes. For as long as you would like.”

She took a slice out for herself and started humming a gentle little tune. The sound of a familiar music filled him with a sense of ease as Berdly’s mind began filling in the soft strum of a guitar.

That song… he recognized it. It was from Virtual Families 2, a game so ancient and obscure that the mere reminder of it sent Berdly whiplashed into the past. He listened closely to Toriel’s tune and it was exactly how remembered it. Then, Berdly felt it – that thick haze of nostalgia.

Games were limited back then, and the only digital game around was the one on his father’s phone. Berdly would sit there for hours buying virtual groceries for little virtual humans, enthralled by the cheap thrill of finishing chores, and placated by that peaceful music. For that very reason, Berdly was of the opinion that mobile games were for children. Ironically, that was still his father’s phone and that implied that he not only played mobile games in his free time, but it was the low budget Virtual Families 2 of all things. Sudoku, in Berdly’s opinion, was a far better game for a doctor to be playing on his lunch break but hell, what did he know?

Settling into the kitchen chair, Berdly picked up his spoon and made another bite out of the pie.

He couldn’t help but smile. The warmth of the kitchen, the soft hum of that particular tune, the smell of pie… things were all so harmonious here in the little room. Berdly put the spoon to his beak and felt the heat of brown sugar spread across his tongue and send a chill rush down his arms. It was just like the time Berdly went to Toriel’s house for Kris’ birthday.

And there it was, the jealousy.

Was this what Kris returned home to, every day?

Berdly scooped up another spoonful. It was irresistibly warm to the tongue, but its absence now left behind a bitter aftertaste. He knew that Kris’ mother liked to cook but he never took it to memory until now, tasting that pie all over again.

He remembered how good things used to be. His parents came home sometime after Berdly had finished his reading for the day. His father still didn’t know how to cook to save anyone’s life, but some recipes were so simple, it was impossible to mess them up.

Every meal was homecooked.

And even though Berdly knew it couldn't have been true, he remembered it tasting good.

“Do you know where the Fountain is?” Berdly asked lukewarmly, poking a spoon into the mush that used to be a perfectly shaped slice of pie.

“Young One, do you… not know?”

“Oh! I was just checking to see if YOU knew… that’s all.”

At that comment, Toriel’s smile turned upside down. “Were you planning to leave?”

Berdly shoved another spoonful of cinnamon into his beak and swallowed so fast that for a moment, it got stuck in his throat, just barely suffocating him. He looked up at Toriel’s stern face, no longer kind.

“I was just wondering.”

“You can’t leave.”

Berdly’s soul beat faster. “How come?”

“Your pie is unfinished, my dear.” She said the words calmly, but Berdly could feel that she wasn’t quite as cheerful as before.

He tried to calm himself down but there wasn’t a single clock in this place and Toriel stared at him with intense, albeit kind, eyes. It fixed him to his seat.

Upon reflection, Berdly realized that in order for Toriel to have picked that specific tune to hum, she had to have known about it, but how? It was frightening to think about how she got that information in the first place. He tried to say something, but it came out more like a half-witted gasp.

“Yes, Young One? I’m listening.”

“I was wondering,” he asked carefully, and trying a new strategy. “Do you like group baking?” He ate the remaining bits of pie hurriedly.

“Oh, I do. I used to do it a lot more but now that I manage the kitchen, I have to leave the gathering to Alphys. To answer your question, yes I did love to bake in groups. Oh, I do hope they’re all doing alright.”

“And how did they get around the place?”

“It’s been a while, unfortunately. I’m sure they found their ways around.”

“Yeah, I meant here. How did they get around while they were here? Because I would really, really like to know.”

Toriel chuckled. “Those days were so sweet. I saw so many people, but to remember them all… Well… it would pain me to remember them all so dearly.”

“Well, that means you remember right? Can you recall how they left after the baking was done??”

“Oh, I don’t dwell on those who have passed me by, anymore. I suggest you do the same, since you are so curious.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Toriel said as she stood up and towered above him. “Indulging in the past may warm you now, but it will leave you cold in your grave.”

Berdly stopped, hand clenched around his spoon, frozen in time. He stared up at Toriel, whose face gave no indication of any malice, no other awareness for what she was implicating to him.

“Someone’s waiting for you,” she said with a kind smile, “and they’ve planned a surprise.”

He laid the spoon back down on the plate, carefully, as to not clang the two pieces together.

“Who is?”

All of a sudden, the room went quiet and Berdly heard it: fait footsteps getting louder. The sway of Berdly’s shirt sleeve caught to the chair just as he turned around and Berdly was stuck to the edge of the seat, idly waiting as he heard the footsteps grow closer to the door. Someone outside was faintly humming to themselves.

“I suggest you follow them to find out.” Toriel took Berdly’s plate and left him alone in the room.

Then, he caught it: a thin wisp of a person walked past the open sliver of the door. He managed to catch a glimpse of white – a white summer dress, angelic, and like a Christmas angel, ripped straight from the pages of a children’s Christmas novel and…

“Noelle?”

Berdly wasted no time as he bursted out into the hallway. He barely caught sight of her antlers as she turned a corner, but it was enough. Without thinking, Berdly chased after her.

“Noelle! Is that you?”

If she was here, then that meant he had to take her with him or else one of them would be stuck behind, just like last time. He couldn’t bear the thought of Noelle lost somewhere, with no one to help. He might as well have been her only ally here.

Poor Noelle. So obviously misunderstood. You were just scared this whole time.

“Hey!” he yelled, not caring who heard. “It’s me, Berdly! Noelle, where are you going?!”

Berdly refused to think about it. He knew the painful truth, deep down, that Noelle would leave him behind in a heartbeat if it came down to it. The Noelle who let him sleep on her family couch that once time because it was too chilly to walk home all alone was somone he had last seen more than half a decade ago. The person he knew now could push him down a flight of stairs and give him one last glance before she left him to bleed out on the stairs overnight. And yet, he wasn’t about to let that stop him from making sure that both of them got back in time. Some things stayed the same. For better or for worse, Berdly was never going to change.

His mind began to work around the truth. The more Berdly thought about it, the more he privately rationalized that none of what happened earlier that day could have been Noelle’s fault. Noelle was so kind; it must have been anyone else. Kris, Susie, anyone. It could not have been Noelle who made the decision to leave him behind. If she saw him bleeding out at the bottom of the stairwell, she would run to call for help, and if she didn't return, it would simply be because the emergency responders were on their way. What reasonable person would blame Noelle then, if the responders never came?

Berdly's face twisted at that thought. Someone did come back for him, hadn't they? No amount of mental gymnastics was going to convince him that it was Noelle who asked him to come. Swatch had been incredibly angry the last time Berdly saw him, having been left behind as well. He showed no indication of self-sacrifice, nor altruism in his intentions. His forward piercing gaze had practically flash-burned the frost off of Berdly's wings by the sheer will in his eyes to survive. His reaction to being abandoned was normal. Perhaps it was Berdly who was drowning himself in delusions.

“Noelle! Slow down, I’m right behind you!”

She took a stairwell up and Berdly followed suit. The stairways in the manor turned out to be a room entirely of their own, shifting in accommodation of him as he climbed those narrowing steps. One moment, they were the carpeted rooms of a place Berdly no longer remembered, then the stark polished floors of the hospital, a bright marble of a podium he’s only seen on television, and back to the great aged woods of Oxford. With every step, Berdly trailed just behind.

“What are you – we have to find the Fountain first!” His voice croaked into the vast echoing column above them. “Don’t go, we can search for it together!”

He could feel her slipping away. Berdly stopped in his tracks, midway up another flight of stairs, legs sore and chest aching. He yelled into the vast vacuum of the manor’s endless vertical hall.

“Hey!” He emptied what remaining air he had left in his lungs. “You can’t just leave me here! Noelle, are you even listening?!”

The noise rang harshly against the pristine walls of the manor; elegant and dark blue.

“Noelle!”

His lungs burned as he strained his throat for as much volume as he could project. He was immensely alone, in a place he didn’t know, with one person who he did know, but that person was now running from him. Sometime in between those thoughts, Berdly had come to a complete stop on the stairs.

Dead by morning and resurrected by chance of daylight. It made no difference. She wasn’t waiting on him no matter what. Berdly let the rasps of a familiar rush of disappoint exhale through his lungs, resigned to the fact that he would likely spend every night in a similar maze, wandering by himself. The song of Virtual Families 2 seemed so far away now. Berdly wondered if he had eaten the last bit of food this place had to offer. He wanted to starve quicker, if it meant he could wake up and get out of here sooner. The hunger subsisted, though for what, he didn't know.

The man in Scarborough.

The well-dressed woman and her husband.

The anticipating father of two.

And him.

Overhead, Noelle stopped as well. She stood just at the edge of the floor above him, flattening out the wrinkles of her dress before making a slow entrance past the plain doorframe. With renewed hope, Berdly made no delay in climbing the rest of those final steps, against the complaints of his knees.

She was a cross country star. Good for her, Berdly thought. However, he insisted to himself that had he been able to fly in such a restricted space, he would have scaled the damn thing in seconds. Berdly clenched a fist against the railings of the stairwell.

Who are you even complaining to? She won’t hear you.

His whole body grinded itself to exhaustion, starting at the ligaments, and ending somewhere intangible up in the mind. Berdly wondered if his father had come to his bedroom in real life yet. Would he be upset? At school tomorrow, would people notice that he was trapped elsewhere? Guiltily, Berdly wondered if it was selfish to want everyone to stop enjoying the party if he was the first one to leave.

Is that it, Noelle? You want out?

He slowly made his way up, keeping in mind a fact which Noelle had once shared to him some years ago: a person’s speed was not the secret to winning cross country races but rather, it was their ability to keep running even after a break in the cycle.

Resiliency, Berdly knew, was a noun.

Ten letters long.

The first year he and Noelle competed together in the Spelling Bee, had gotten it correct. She barely knew him then, not even by name. Despite it, Noelle was there with him again the second time around, the third too, and then the fourth. Berdly knew that it was only with her help that he got first in anything, so whenever people brought it up, Berdly mentioned that they had won. It was a small clique, he like to think, consisting of him and Noelle – champions again and again. Team Nobelle Prize, as they were called.

Heading up the stairs, Berdly heard the echo of a distant breeze, whispering little nothings into his ear.

“He doesn’t even need to study…”

“Who is that, again?”

“Look at him! He’s not even scared.”

At the top of the stairwell, Berdly saw Noelle. She stood in the middle of a large stage, facing a set of empty atriums. Berdly recognized this place. It was the Oxford convocation hall, but with their school’s stage, with creaking floorboards to match.

What an odd combination.

Berdly followed her to the centre, but to his dismay, she looked far too young to be the Noelle of the present day.

“Hey, are you nervous?” She asked. In her hands were some crumpled notes Berdly recognized on sight, ripped right out of her notebook from all those years ago, a detail which Berdly only knew out of retrospect.

“Noelle…”

“You look so still, standing there like that. Monster Kid told me that you must have prepared beforehand, hah.”

His stomach sank. He knew the words that were supposed to follow and it just proved that the real Noelle was never there. Her height was roughly the same height as his, which Berdly knew wasn’t right, because the Noelle he knew was admittedly taller than him, even without her antlers factored in.

“Yeah,” Berdly said, experimentally. “Don’t people study anymore?”

It may not have been his exact words, but Berdly had a sinking feeling that Noelle’s respond would have been the same.

She grimaced and feigned a smile. “… Have I seen you somewhere before?”

Berdly was right.

The truth hung heavy in Berdly’s soul as he looked at Noelle’s much younger face. There was not a single real person in this whole manor… apart from him.

“They are like Swatchlings, no?”

Berdly whipped his head around to see Swatch perched up against a post – the convocation podium.

“Perpetually shifting, always changing. I quite like what you have done with the place.”

“Do you two know each other?” The young-Noelle asked Berdly.

He looked at her and then back to Swatch. “I – I didn’t know you’d be here. I was just about to – “

“Leave?” Swatch leapt off his post and made a beeline straight towards him.

Berdly gripped a feathered hand to Noelle’s shoulder trying to get her to run, but Swatch only bowed once he reached them. Noelle greeted him with a smile.

“Young Master, you couldn’t be leaving already, are you?” He turned to face Noelle. “Young Lady, perhaps it’s time for you to find your seat below.”

“Oh – oh right!”

She folded up her notes and tucked them safe into the pocket of her dress, skipping down steps as she exited the stage.

“No wait, Noelle – “

“Now,” Swatch said. “You see how this world you’ve created behaves by now, haven’t you?”

Berdly scowled at him.

“Now now, I’m exactly where I said I’d be, am I not?”

“You’re a figment of my imagination.” He spoke with that familiar air of arrogance now that he knew the truth. “And if I recall correctly, you always seem to know where stuff is… so do what I want and just tell me where the Fountain is.”

Swatch just stared. “Do you really not know where it is? I thought you were the one to set it down.”

“I did, obviously.” Berdly gestured to his strange clothes and the stage they stood on. “And it HURT LIKE GODDAMNED - !”

“Well, ‘Young Master’, I told you not to wait so long until there was nothing left but yourself.”

“I – how did you know!?”

“First of all, I am observant. I was the Queen’s Head Butler after all, and my personal specialty was in precision and inspection. Hah, and well… I’ve also been doing some light reading in the short time that you were away.”

Swatch took out a thick book from the podium stand.

“You like playing Street Fighters the game, you became good acquaintances with a young lady named Noelle on a day just like this, you tried to fly once when you were young but failed to sustain lift and broke your arm, you secretly have something called an ‘A minus’ in Alchemy Class which have been hiding from your father, and you were hoping that the next test would bring it back up to a proper ‘A’, lest you would not be able to one day attend a prestigious college. Oh, how mundane it all is…”

Berdly resisted the urge to pull all his feathers out. Hearing his life displayed like that so truthfully was positively mortifying.

“You’ve been READING WHAT??”

“Ahh, and this must be the place, is it not?” Swatch resisted the urge to laugh. “The one you’ve always dreamed of. Well, isn’t that so fulfilling now that you are here.”

“How do you even know all this??”

“I’ve been exploring the archives while you were away, Young Master. The whole manor, Stormcrow Manor, is just so exquisite don’t you think? And I do believe that you are the rightful. Oh, and I’m never wrong.”

“… I – what?”

“Everyone, make haste!” he yelled into the empty pair of atriums. “It’s Coronation time!”

He opened to a page near the front of the book and removed the long black feather which he had been using as a bookmark.

“Worry not, Young Master. I have done this all before, albeit in a different world, but let’s not fret over the dues of the past. We have a new canon in the making.”

“H-hold on…!”

Swatch held the book out and read the contents ominously. “Tuesday. Last Summer. Convocation Hall. Guests.”

With a great sweep of his dark wings, Swatch sent the pages of the book flying into the empty convocation-like hall. Berdly watched in fascination as the pages took lift off the book like a thousand miniature paper planes and soon after, the doors to the paired atriums began to open and people began piling in.

A faint tune was playing from beneath them. To his personal surprise, Berdly recognized it immediately.

“I know this,” Berdly said. “I have no idea how I know this but… it’s – this guy’s random garage band music that he used in the background of Beginner’s Guide to Spray Painting.”

Berdly wasn’t even invested in spray painting. He had come across that random video years ago while searching for glow in the dark bead tutorials and became obsessed with the music that backed the poor slideshow of mediocre space paintings. That video was nearly eight years old by now. It was just some random find that Berdly had stumbled upon. He didn’t expect such an obscure detail to come back to him after all the years gone by.

“It took forever for me to find the music… and – “

“And here, it comes just so easily, doesn't it? All the things lost by time, so easily returned?"

Swatch laid the empty dust cover of the book on the ground, snapping it the air as it became just another patch of velvet flooring.

“Everything you’ve ever wanted,” he said, “here in an instant. Your friend Noelle, a chance to fly again, and don’t look so strangely at me, Young Master. I merely did my job of searching the literature to present my case for why you should stay.”

“And why do you need me to stay here?”

“Oh, no particular reason. They’re waiting for you,” he said softly.

Berdly stepped back, glaring him down as he clenched his fist trying to summon the Halberd again, but it didn’t come, likely because Berdly’s hands were shaking.

“You’re not real,” Berdly repeated to himself, “You’re a bad memory. Not that I have a bad memory – my memory is great - you’re a bad memory. You’re not real…”

“So curt. Oh, I assure you, I am real. I do exist. I may be the only ‘real’ thing that exists, by your understanding of it.”

Swatch was a tall bird, larger than him, taller than his own father too. Berdly remembered the cloak of his wings surrounding him, the sharpness of his stare, and the firmness of his tone when he told him that should he not return…

Swatch relaxed his posture and turned back to watch the convocation atrium fill with people as they stood there.

“The people here,” he asked calmly. “Do you recognize any of them?”

Berdly couldn’t take his eyes off Swatch, fixed to the way his beak moved just like someone else he knew.

The truth was, Berdly didn’t recognize anyone in the crowd. This was his father’s audience, at his presentation last year. Below were a sea of other doctors, researchers, and other people with more degrees than children, surely. These weren’t the types of crowds that came to see Berdly. He only had a handful of people he personally knew well.

“Anyone you wish was here?” Swatch continued, though Berdly wasn’t listening.

“Swatch, are you actually here?”

“Yes, and always will be, Young Master.”

“…”

“I could hear your conversation downstairs. You didn’t seem like it when the cook called you by your title. Do you want me to call you by your name instead?”

“… No.”

Swatch looked surprised at the sudden firmness of Berdly’s tone.

“You’ll… you’ll do anything I say, right?”

“That’s how it goes, yes.”

“Then tell me,” Berdly said very seriously. “What did you see?”

“My post is here. I simply stay and take care of the manor.”

“That’s not what I asked. Just - swear to me that you’ll never go prying again.”

Swatch smiled. “Sworn. But in return, I need you to turn around and only look back when I say so.”

Berdly stood there, debating with himself. In the end, however, he did exactly as he was told. Berdly turned to the crowd, with only Toriel and Noelle’s faces recognizable among the thousands of anonymous people, none of whom Berdly knew.

          In the distance, another street fell silent. Gone. He thrusted the edge of the blade against Swatch’s exposed underbelly, surprised to see that he didn’t do so much as flinch. From the base of his weapon, Berdly’s hands were shaking. He knew he was going to die here.

          “Go on, make another fountain.”

          Hearing Swatch’s suggestion made Berdly sick to his stomach, a confirmation that everything around him was actually happening.

          A smartopia… where Noelle and I reign…

Berdly closed his eyes, feeling the beat of soul loudly in his own chest.

The crowd looked with anticipation, silent in their seats.

Berdly stood there, knowing that if this were his father, he wouldn’t be shaking.

          Berdly had no idea if a spell like Snowgrave killed its caster. He had no idea if opening a Fountain would kill its caster too, in the end.

          “Go on, do it before it’s too late.”

          “N-no.” He choked, eyes and nose stinging with something other than the cold. “I won’t do magic like that… something’s not right.”

          Swatch sighed. “You know this is all I came for, right? If it weren’t for me, you’d still be stuck in that ice.”

Berdly put a hand to his chest and tried to count the beats against the minute. Crowds this size… Berdly never saw them from the stage before – only ever from the audience, anonymously.

He could feel his resting rate climb.

          “Where did Queen go?”

          “She left of her own accord. There’s nothing you can do about it now.”

“You can turn around now.”

In Swatch’s outstretched hands was a dark cloak, the kind you’d expect a plague doctor to wear.

“I – I … I can’t breathe.”

“Shh, relax your nerves.” He whispered privately between them, as to not let the quiet crowd hear.

          Berdly tried to catch a glimpse of whatever was behind Swatch, but the massive wings rose to keep his view blocked.

          Once Swatch stepped back and let those wings fall, Berdly finally saw the silence for what it was: the street around them was entirely gone.

“You must put this on before I can crown you. A proper king would have more on his back than a mere shirt. Take it.”

Berdly winced as he felt something push behind his chest. Against his better judgement, Berdly pulled it out and observed in fascination as his own soul shone with the blinding light of a Fountain.

“Wait, Swatchling no – “

The room filled with light.

Berdly woke with a gasp.

His pen had leaked all over his borrowed gown while he slept, the pen Berdly could’ve sworn didn’t have any ink. His chest ached as he tried to get up, but Berdly ignored it the best he could and pried the worn fabric off of him to change. That was when he finally noticed it - the huge gash that ran down his front.

It was exactly where the Halberd had struck him.

Chapter Text

Berdly was intimately aware of the concept of ‘cultural osmosis’, which was a term he coined to describe the diffusion of knowledge between two individuals, from an area of high concentration to low concentration. That’s why it was important not to hang around intellectual vacuums too often because in Berdly’s opinion, they could suck the intelligence from you if given enough time.

Being the son of a doctor, and also his only friend outside of work, Berdly had accumulated an extensive repertoire of random knowledge: Xeno’s Paradox, the Infinite Monkey Theorem, and something called Proportionality Bias, which he had explained to Berdly some time ago.

“Regular well-adjusted people can be made to believe extraordinary things. It is a born instinct in both humans and monsters to equate the magnitude of an event as the magnitude of its cause.”

“Conspiracy theorists.”

“That’s right. But conspiracy is not just for the ignorant.”

Berdly crossed his arms. “Some people are just dumb, you know. Smart people don’t fall for cognitive biases.”

“What do you mean? Everyone has biases. We just aren’t always aware of them until we see the fallout.”

“And that’s why we have to be careful, et cetera… Large actions have large consequences – ”

“But that is false too, don’t you see?” His father grinned. “In physics, it is true that all actions must have their equal and opposite reactions, but that principle cannot be universally applied elsewhere.”

“…”

“That is the Bias of Proportionality.”

Walking through the school halls that morning after everything that had happened to him was a surreal experience, like the dazed feeling one got when walking out of a particularly impactful movie or coming home after a vacation to a familiar but empty house. Monster Kid still jingled down the hall with his bag full of random knickknacks tied to the back and Catti was still charging her phone in the hallway even though it wasn’t allowed. The mud stain from Susie’s footprints were still there, untouched by the custodian who was off on alternating nights.

Berdly quickly realized that nothing much had actually changed about school, despite the magnitude of what had happened yesterday. He raised a hand to a spot on his chest where it still ached, feeling the steady beat where it had not been for six hours yesterday.

No one knows. Or maybe they do. Maybe, it just doesn’t bother them.

For six hours, Berdly had been declared medically dead.

Out of everyone in that class, it was true that Berdly was the only one who had fully broken a bone before. However, for the entire year he spent with his arm in a sling and unable to write with his dominant hand, he insisted that he barely felt a thing and that he was perfectly fine.

Why? Because Berdly wasn’t an idiot.

He knew that the more severe an accident was, the greater the consequences were, especially for those who could not deny their involvement and would likely be held responsible for it. Berdly was a bird of strategy – deny and downplay – and he knew his priorities well.

“A broken wing can only get better, but those allegations will only get worse.”

Similarly, he wasn’t about to let slip to anyone that he was walking around school that day with hastily tied gauze wrap beneath his shirt, crudely assembled from their bathroom as Berdly’s father was making breakfast that morning. If he had just asked his father to do it, then there would not have been a knot at the front, which Berdly was constantly wrinkling his shirt to conceal. From Berdly’s experience, it was for the best that his father didn’t know. Berdly knew his father’s temperament like his own. He knew that his father liked to make his word final, and Berdly couldn’t imagine what he would do if his father asked the Holiday family to never let Noelle hang around him ever again.

Knowing Noelle, she wouldn’t even argue against it. That’s why she needed him, in Berdly’s opinion. She was always a big pushover, and he was the only one who ever pushed back.

Berdly peeked around the hallway, eyeing each doorway twice to make sure he didn’t miss anything but to his disappointment, Noelle wasn’t anywhere in the hallway.

Okay. Three possibilities, Berdly thought as he closed his locker door: she’s home, in class already, or in Toriel’s office.

Despite every urge in Berdly’s body wanting to march to Toriel’s office and give the woman a good lecture about what a menace she had raised, he couldn’t deny that there was likely no proof of Kris’ involvement, given how implausible Dark Worlds were unless a person had witnessed one personally. Berdly settled for the next best solution, which was to lie. His plan was to fabricate the events of yesterday and hope that Toriel would believe it.

It's not lying, technically, if the result is the same. I’m fairly certain all of this is Kris’s fault anyway.

He wrinkled the front of his shirt a bit more before walking into the homeroom. People knew damn well that birds were avian and not mammals. So, if anyone caught sight of the knot which looked suspiciously like a nipple, Berdly would have some explaining to do and he honestly didn't know how he could explain his way out of it, given that he only tied one knot. 

“Berdly??" Alphys looked shocked to see him at school. "Class hasn’t started yet but… I got a call from the office saying that you were – ”

“I have a doctor’s note.”

“O-ohh! Okay. Of course, hah... uhh, just leave it on my desk.”

“Will do.”

A few people turned around after that comment, but Berdly ignored them. He took a moment to look across the classroom but to his dismay, Noelle wasn’t there either.

Just late, she’s just late…

Berdly almost wished Alphys didn’t say anything about the office because he could’ve gone the whole day blissfully thinking that everyone was unaware of yesterday and that’s why everyone was going on with their usual routine. His chest still ached behind the book he held up, covering his front, but Berdly bit down on his beak and walked briskly to her desk, avoiding eye contact with anyone who might have been staring.

There were two other reasons why Berdly was back in school the day, despite obviously not feeling well: firstly, he had a chemistry test to write and secondly, he had already been medically cleared. ‘Medically cleared’, by definition, meant that a physician had examined him and deemed him healthy enough to return to his regular activities, even if in Berdly’s case, that technically wasn’t true.

In most places, doctors were not allowed to treat their own family members. Those rules were put in place for a good reason.

Berdly’s father was a strict protocol man. Despite that, he still fell victim to some of the classic mental blunders. In such a small town, Berdly didn’t have any other choice but to see the same doctor that everyone else did and that came with a myriad of problems: Berdly lied about nearly everything, from the amount of water he was drinking daily to the circumstances under which he broke his wing. For better or for worse, The Doctor also lied to himself, thinking that he knew his son more accurately than anyone and so, his personal judgements were as good as reality.

In a rush to go home, The Doctor prematurely discharged Berdly from the hospital without performing a routine medical check. He rationalized that even without the monitoring equipment attached, he knew his son well enough to monitor for symptoms once they got home, and Berdly would likely tell him if something was wrong. However, he neither checked after they got home, nor did he check the next morning. So, when Berdly’s father asked him if he was feeling well the next morning, all Berdly had to say was yes, that he was doing just fine, and that he needed a note to go write his chemistry test. Relaxed by the illusion of already being home, his father obliged, and that was how easy it was for Berdly to get a professionally signed medical clearing, all without undergoing even a single examination.

Berdly went back to school with one motivation in mind: Kris Dreemurr… I’m going to figure you out. And it’s going to be as easy as solving a sudoku with only nine squares.

Kris stared him down as he walked back to his own desk, which was unfortunately right in front of theirs. Berdly could feel something cold crawl down his back as he sat down and it began to dawn on him that with his back turned, he could not see Kris, but they were free to observe him.

From the back of the class, Susie was barely holding back laughter. “I heard you fell asleep at the library yesterday. What, did you have a bad dream and that’s why you look so tired today?” Susie knocked a fist to the back of Kris’ chair twice.

“Yeah,” Kris said quietly. “Back on your feet, it seems.”

Berdly and Kris rarely talked to each other, yet ironically, they still managed to accumulate some shared history in the time that they knew each other.

They formally (and unenthusiastically) met some plenty of years ago when they had both been assigned to Toriel’s homeroom class. Berdly had already established a bit of English prowess by then and being confident enough to speak at the front of the class was a remarkable advantage over everyone else at that age, especially compared to people like Kris, who was profoundly irritated by Berdly’s oddly intense desire to outshine them in front of their own mom. Kris wasn’t exactly the most eloquent, but they knew their own mom at least, and knew all the right kinds of concerning things to say.

According to Kris, Berdly allegedly suffered everything ranging from ‘frequent bouts of depression’ to ‘massive attachment problems’, and even ‘body image issues’ from his lack of coloured feathers at the time. Obviously, all of that was false but Toriel had already been speculating that he was suffering somehow, ever since the day she started sending him to the scrapbooking club to cure his reluctance to join others in softball at recess. She only needed that final verbal confirmation to validate her theory and she went to work that same afternoon to help him.

The essay that Toriel made him sit down at recess was about Positive Affirmations and Berdly positively hated that. Out of sheer spite, Berdly put together every nasally sounding, sickly sweet combination of prose he could think of, thinking that it would be the last time Toriel ever tried to help him again.

…I get lost in my own world, venturing through nostalgic halls and landscapes that only exist in my mind. I can dream as I once did when I was a child and control where I go, who I meet and what I do. I feel all my emotions in unison, like instruments in harmony. Soft as whisper, I glide over the ground I walk.

Life stops when I close my eyes. And sometimes that’s all I need.

It was exactly the kind of gooey nonsense that he knew Toriel loved and perhaps she did love it a little too much because she nailed a laminated copy of his essay to her bulletin board outside the Language Department Hall where everyone could give it a read. And to Berdly’s absolute mortification (and to Kris’ never-ending source of delight), every year since then, a few kids from Toriel’s class read it out loud to during school assemblies.

Berdly sat there, in present day, silently cringing to himself until Monster Kid’s whiny voice broke through to him.

“Hey Berdly! Is it true that you fell asleep in the library and your blood sugar dropped so much that they had to hospitalize you? Hah! You need to exercise more!”

Berdly scowled at him. “Hospitalize is a big word for somebody who couldn’t even spell ‘daydream’ two years ago.”

Monster kid shut up immediately.

“Wait…” Susie became confused. “Hospitalized?”

Susie looked to Kris, almost curiously, waiting for a retort from Kris, or even just a dismissive laugh but no denial of the fact ever came. Kris’ back was turned and paid Susie no mind, eyes fixed to the front of the class where Berdly sat. Berdly watched as her expression changed from feigned disinterest to mild confusion to something resembling uneasiness as she quickly tapped something into her phone before putting it away, brows furrowed. She leaned back into her chair and put her phone on her desk, foot tapping slowly against the floor, and seemingly deep in thought.

Around them, people were breaking away from their small talk to listen in on what was happening. Berdly watched in horror as people all around fix their gaze onto him, and then to the empty chair which was right next to him.

          ‘I heard Noelle was with him.’

          ‘He looks like shit, do you think he was really – ‘

          ‘She did it, didn’t she?’

With Noelle nowhere in the classroom and eyes all around him, Berdly froze by his desk, stagnant. With Kris and Susie in the class, he was outnumbered and if they really wanted to give different accounts of what happened, then people would sooner believe two identical accounts rather than a single one coming from him.

“A-alright class… hold on…” Alphys dug through her bag feverishly. “Okay give me like, ten more minutes. I just need to fine those test papers. Uh, you guys can just – sit tight!”

Berdly snapped out of his trance and quickly took his seat. He took out his notes for some last-minute revision and tried his best to put aside everything for just a moment to focus on the task in front of him. Kris, however, with the confidence of someone who had nothing on their desk, had other ideas. Leaned over, they whispered in his ear.

“Honestly,” Kris said. “I didn’t think I’d see you here today.”

Berdly straightened his back and fumbled with his pen some more, trying to not any pay attention to Kris.

Chemistry test, just worry about that first. You need to pull that A- to an A. Noelle is probably fine, running late. Yeah… that must be it.

He dug out a spare piece of paper from his bag and experimentally, he put the tip down to the paper, watching in fascination as ink began to flow through, out of nowhere – proof that Dark Worlds were still real and the ache behind the gauze around his chest was real too.

No, Berdly thought, Don’t think about that now. Marks first, marks first…

Kris tapped a nail against the fake wood of the desk. The sound of their breathing was loud and crisp against the back of Berdly’s head, unheard by everyone else, apart from him.

“Fear strikes the vagus nerve.” Berdly recalled his father saying to him once. “It’s the same one that responds to injury, to sudden cold, and to loss, despite not being the main communicator for those things.”

“Then what does it communicate then?”

“Phantom pain. Fear transforms into physical sensation as it travels down the vagus nerve.”

The sound of Kris’ sharp breathing down Berdly’s neck kept him bolted to his chair, unmoving. He put the sharp top of his fountain pen down to the notebook paper and listened intently for the faint crackle of the paper. Ink poured onto the page like an open wound drawing blood, and its calligraphic curves looked so beautiful that Berdly wished he had manila paper to write on. He hadn’t seen paper, much less writing like that, in a very long time.

“Weren’t you with Noelle yesterday?” Kris whispered. “I’m surprised she didn’t give you the cold too.”

“… We were studying together,” Berdly said lukewarmly as could. “You should try it sometime – studying I mean. No, I definitely don’t want to do that with you, I just to make that abundantly clear, you –“

“You’re not acting like yourself today.”

“…Why? Should I spill orange juice all over your French dictionary again?”

He tried not to think about Kris, and instead, focused his attention back to the beautiful sound of paper cracking beneath his pen. However, the noise was starting to echo in the back of his head. Nearby, Monster Kid was clicking his own pencil, loudly, and Berdly swore that he could begin to hear Susie’s foot tap the ground and the sound of Alphys rummaging through her desk, looking for those tests. The noise pounded in his head but what was more unbearable was the silence coming from the desk beside him. Pinpricks of heat from the sunlight managed to reach him all the way from the window, which itched at his side. It made him sick to his stomach thinking about where she could be. He knew that on a good day, he would be sitting far out of reach from the sun’s heat, kept cool by his place under Noelle’s shadow.

Berdly whipped back in his seat and glared down at the row behind him making all the racket.

“Has anyone seen Noelle?” Berdly asked finally, as he refreshed his phone messages for the tenth time that morning.

Susie’s grin returned. “Oh, she texted me.”

Berdly bent his head around to get a good stare in while he could. “She what?”

“She texted me this morning.” Susie smirked, sitting up taller in her seat. “What, did she not tell you or something?”

“Tell me what??”

“That she got a cold, you big idiot!” Susie snorted. “She wanted some time off. Said she didn’t want to hurt anyone, all that stuff, blah blah. Honestly? If I got a cold, the first thing I’d do is come to school just to see how many other people I can get sick.”

“Wait – you and Noelle are texting now? What… what do you guys even talk about??”

“Yeah. I don’t even know, but… did you actually go to the hospital? Like, you were totally just there to see your dad, right?”

Susie’s face didn’t express concern very often so instead, she just gave him a look of confusion.

Do you really not know? Berdly thought. You weren’t there with Noelle and Kris… maybe Noelle just ran off to get help.

His stomach lurched and his fingers grew cold.

Shit… did Noelle not reach her in time? Did she get hurt before she…

Around them, people began to murmur, and Berdly became incredibly aware of all the little sounds again: the hum of the AC, the tap of Catti’s nails on her phone, and Monster Kid’s books sliding disrespectfully on the floor beneath his foot. A row of eyes settled on him around the classroom, waiting for his reply.

“Yeah,” Berdly said cautiously, studying Susie for clues. “Just to visit. But – how is Noelle doing? She’s not like… super sick, is she?”

He fumbled with his pen, holding it like it was a lifeline. He recalled seeing Susie in the Dark World, but she didn’t stay with Kris and Noelle for the rest of the time. He didn’t think she and Kris were plotting something together but now he wasn’t so sure. Berdly wasn’t the kind to fall into conspiracy thinking but every now and then, he felt like everyone was just waiting to see him slip up.

That’s just the price you pay for being at the top, he comforted himself. The two of them combined aren’t even as smart as you. It’s going to fine…

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, dude.” Susie said with a surprisingly gentle tone. “She says she’s still studying for the Spelling Bee from home.”

Berdly sighed. Something about Noelle’s refusal to tell him did bother him but he was at least glad that she wasn’t being hospitalized.

“Nah uh!” said Monster Kid, “You weren’t there to visit! I saw an ambulance driving by yesterday.”

Berdly just scowled. “That’s a profound observation coming from someone who lives right by the hospital. What do you expect to see, a fire truck?”

“Oh, I was hanging out by the library.”

“What do you mean…” Berdly tapped his foot against the ground, too preoccupied in his own thoughts to really give Monster Kid the time of day.

“I heard they found you in the closet...”

Noelle texted Susie, literally Susie of all people, before she texted you. She really doesn’t care, doesn’t she? They said the librarian found me… Noelle didn’t come back for me afterwards… she only took my books.

“...and now you’re here. Raised from the dead. Like that Narnia kid.”

“Okay, first of all,” Berdly corrected as pointed a finger at Monster Kid. “It was Aslan who died, not Edmund, you uncultured swine.”

“Yeah…” Kris added, listening amusingly nearby, “and it was the White Witch who killed him, right?”

Berdly’s expression soured just enough for Kris to take notice. Berdly tried to hide it quickly, but it was too late – Kris had already seen his discomfort and that was the only truth they needed to know. Berdly held a tight fist, not to intimidate necessarily, but he caught his hand shaking and didn’t want Kris to think he was taking it more personally than he was.

“Wow, that – that’s very impressive Kris! How did you know that??”

“Really? I uh... read it at the library – ”

“NOT!” Berdly said with a sneer. “But I supposed you’re very well-read for an impolite person who lies all the time.”

“Lying about what?”

“That you, you – uhh” Berdly stumbled as he realized that most of what he had to say was about Dark Worlds and everyone around them would have thought that he was insane.

“That I what?” Kris smiled, from the comfort of a public space with ears all around.

“That you… read Narnia, like, at all. Because the only copy we have at the library is the French translation, and you can barely speak it, much less read it.”

“You don’t know,” Kris said, relaxing at the edge of their seat. “Maybe I do.”

Monster kid joined in. “Yeah, Berdly! Maybe Kris does know Spanish – “

“French, MK. That’s like Spelling Bee 101: pay attention to what word they’re giving you. Like that time, you lost in the first round because you spelled ‘peace’ instead of ‘piece’.”

Monster Kid promptly shut up again.

He and Berdly had a bit of a strange history, though it was much less extensive than the one he had with Kris. Monster Kid was one of those people who tried every year to overthrow Berdly and that kind of behaviour was exactly what largely overhyped the Spelling Bee, in Kris’ humble opinion.

“Anyway,” Berdly continued to brush him off, turning his attention back to Kris, “You people better keep quiet when we’re writing that test because at your level? You’d need a damn djini to whisper the answers in your ear to pass.”

Kris seemed to pause in time, brows furrowed and shoulder tense, suddenly. Their eyes darted around Berdly rather than directly at him, pausing for just a second too long, and smiling like someone who was just on the edge of insane.

“… you never know.” Kris muttered, their posture relaxing once again. “Maybe I do.”

“Oh really,” Berdly sneered, “Like that brilliant ‘thing’ you wrote in French the other day? I mean, a B minus is like… almost fluent right?”

“…”

“There’s this idea in philosophy called the ‘Infinite Monkey Theorem’ which states that given an infinite amount of time, a monkey slapping its hands on a keyboard could probably type out one of Shakespeare’s finest works. And what are humans if not the Earth’s third brand of chimpanzee?” He twirled his pretentious fountain pen like a cigar in old movies.

Kris often imagined tying Berdly’s beak shut with an elastic band like they did with lobsters’ little hands at the supermarket.

“Whoever shoved you into the closet yesterday,” Kris said. “The urge must have been uncontrollable. I can imagine it.”

Berdly frowned. “Oh please, everyone loves me.”

Nearby, Monster kid hadn’t given up trying to find another segue into their conversation. “So, is Noelle still doing the Spelling Bee this year? I do hope nothing bad happened to her!”

Kris and Berdly turned around to face him. Berdly glared back and forth between them.

“Heaven protect me because I’m being harassed right now by more low-60s than your mom in a mirror maze. Can you guys please just study or something? I have my own notes to attend to, thank you very much!”

“She’s only like, fourty, Berdly.” Monster Kid protested. “And way to bring down the mood, man!”

“You know what they say, MK. The dumbest creatures are the happiest – just ask your whole family.”

Monster kid sat there fuming. If he had hands, he would have slapped Berdly for sure. “Is Noelle still signing up for the spelling bee this year or not?” Monster kid asked coldly.

“Obviously she is. She never misses anything – erm, except class today… but she’s just taking a break after working so hard. Maybe you could learn a thing or two, seeing as you skipped last year’s competition because you forgot to sign up!”

“That was one time!”

“And I hardly even noticed that you were gone from the competition. That really speaks to your impact, doesn’t it? So go study for a few more minutes and stop tapping your foot before the test starts. It’s so annoying – ”

“W-well, I’ll have you know that the last time I was in it, I came in third! That’s just behind you and Noelle! Maybe this year – ”

“So? I came in first for like half a decade straight. Keep up, BJ.”

“WHAT DID YOU CALL ME??”

“Barney with Jaundice. You know… because you both belong in preschool but he’s purple and you’re yellow.”

Kris watched in mild intrigue as Monster Kid managed to look like he was clenching his fists, despite not having any arms. His face was practically orange with frustration. “Well, I heard that kids from other schools are doing it too this year, for that scholarship thing they have going on. Who knows, Berdly? Maybe one of their kids will beat you!”

“Yeah, I highly doubt that.” Berdly twirled the pen in his hand, smiling to himself self-righteously. “And you know what? I’ll do the honours of signing you up this year, given your apparent inability to remember anything for longer than a goldfish can. The more the merrier.”

Monster turned back to his desk, muttering underneath his breath.

Kris lightly tapped their pen to the side of their finger, observing silently. Everyone knew that some years ago, the Spelling Bee stopped being a word competition. By now, the Spelling Bee was a challenge – a challenge to beat him. It was hardly an open secret now that some only studied for it just to see if they could beat Berdly at his best game but no matter who tried, Berdly still sat at the top of the leaderboards, year after year.

Kris never bothered to try. They just happened to know this because it was all people talked about, approaching this time of year.

“So, you do care”, said the voice in Kris’ head. “Have you ever wanted the same?”

Kris clicked the pen softly against the beat of clock, pondering. It didn’t take very long for their hand to go rigid once more, stopping their thumb right above the back of the pen against their will.

“Because that’s what we’re going to have to do.”

Kris felt their shoulders pull back, forcefully straighten their spine. Kris' hand stiffly placed the pencil back onto the desk, fingers flexed and arm tense once more, and beyond their control.

“Alright class,” said Alphys. “J-just give me one more minute while I take attendance. Uh, and clear your desks. I’ll give you guys some extra time at the end… uh, in case anyone needed those first fifteen minutes.”

Fifteen minutes past, already? Berdly fumbled with his pen nervously, looking at the clock. Noelle really isn’t coming to school today. She really is sick.

Kris tapped him on the shoulder.

“God, what do you want now? Make it quick. I don’t have time to – I’m sorry, what?”

Kris leaned forward and put a hand up to his ear. “I need you to tell me where the Fountain is.”

Berdly’s whole body went dead cold.

“I know you did something. I have an… associate, who tells me things. Ralsei told me that after we closed down the Fountain in Cyber World, another one sprung up.” Kris leaned just a little further to make sure no one else heard. “And now you’re here today.”

Berdly pushed Kris off, harshly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You do.”

“Do you actually have a damn djini in your head who feeds you all these stupid things to say or are you on actual drugs? Because your mind is like an actual bonsai; you’re always somehow finding ways to make it smaller.”

To Berdly’s surprise, Kris yanked him by the collar of his shirt and spoke sharply and right into his ear.

“If you didn’t know already, Berdly, ‘Djinni’ is spelled with two N’s, not one.”

With his shirt still tightly clenched in Kris’ fist, Berdly turned to face them, puzzlingly.

“Y-yeah,” he said. “I knew that… are you seriously accusing me of not knowing how to spell something? God, maybe you did hit your head on a Fountain.”

Kris twisted their mouth into something resembling a smile. The way they stared at him made Berdly incredibly unnerved. It was difficult to describe. For some reason, sometimes Kris didn’t even look at you while you talked. They scanned their eyes back and forth around you like they were tracking the text across a page, reading you like an open book. Their posture was more rigid than ever, moving their arms in a sudden and scripted way, like a human puppet. Berdly had no idea what the hell stupid people did to get by but whatever Kris was on was positively scary.

“I know that you use the oxford comma – the one character that shows up twice between three words in a list. I know that you know what I’m talking about because no one capitalizes the word ‘fountain’ unless it’s something important.”

Berdly could do nothing but sit there. Kris had a death grip on him and he felt immobilized in his chair, the cold metal leg pressing up against his own.

“I know what you’re saying because I can see your words when you talk, Berdly. I’ve been seeing them ever since the Dark World.”

The claim would’ve sounded absolutely bizarre if Berdly hadn’t been to one himself. Magic existed, and the gash running down his front was proof of it. Magic caused the ink to flow through the pen Berdly kept, and magic was what killed and saved him. Having seen the look on Kris and Noelle’s faces as they fought in that alley, Berdly decided that he didn’t need to see any more proof of magic.

“And if you don’t tell me where that Fountain is,” Kris’s breaths felt erratic against the side of Berdly’s head, like an addict who couldn’t get enough adventure for just one day. “If you don’t tell me… I’ll – I swear to God, Berdly.”

“Let go of me.”

“You won’t stand a chance at the next Spelling Bee. And there’s no way you could accuse me of cheating.”

He gulped, feeling Kris’ grip on his shirt tighten, pulling him even closer, against his will.

“ – And until you tell me, Berdly? I’m not dropping out of the race.”

“Hey, are you two making out or what the hell? Can you pass the damn papers already??” Susie’s voice boomed from the back of the classroom and Berdly had only just noticed the small stack of papers on his desk waiting to be handed back.

“Y-yeah. I-I’ll hand them over.”

“Berdly?” Monster Kid asked. “Are… you okay?”

Berdly passed the papers back and he took a deep breath, completely ignoring Monster Kid’s question. He couldn’t put up with him right then, he felt like his chest was folding back in on itself, starting with the wound, which ached more than ever.

You just need to score at least a ninety-five to pull that A- back to an A. Worry about that instead.

Berdly adjusted the bandage wrap behind his shirt one more time, pausing to count the beats against the minute.

Calm down, calm down.

The events of yesterday swirled across his mind and sent a rush of electricity down his vagus nerve, and all throughout his body.

If there are fourty marks, I can afford to lose two of them. Shit… that’s not a lot.

Suddenly, the static of the announcement system turned on and Toriel’s voice rang loudly through the speaker.

The class went silent.

“Alphys, are you there?”

“Erm, yes! Uh, what did you need, Ms. Toriel?”

“Oh good. I was just asking if Berdly was in class?”

Berdly knew from the sudden shuffle of chairs around the room that people were probably staring at him. Alphys looked at him curiously, then back to the announcement speaker.

“Y-yeah! He’s here. But um, he’s writing a test…?”

“Ahh, well can you send him to the office anyway?”

“Oh, sure…?” Alphys gave him a sympathetic look and a shrug.

“Should I take my test later then?” He asked quietly.

“Ms. Toriel,” Alphys asked quickly, before the speakers turned off again. “How long do you need him for?”

The entire class waited in anticipation. Noelle never missed a day of class ever, and Berdly had allegedly been hospitalized. Everyone was starting to connect the dots that those two events were probably related somehow, but nobody knew what that connection was. Berdly held his pen with an iron grip, as milliseconds turned to seconds between Toriel’s replies.

“Tell him to take all his things with him. He can take the test in my office.”

Berdly hesitated in his seat but wrinkled the front of his shirt one last time and stood up. Slowly, he turned around and saw the classroom full of eyes stare back at him. He didn’t mean to make eye contact directly with Kris but something about those intense eyes with absolutely no expression donned on their face fascinated him in a morbid way.

You can read my words… can you… read my thoughts too?

He forced himself to look away and gathered up his things. The principal’s office was not to far away.

Kris Dreemurr… I’m going to figure you out, he thought as loudly as he could on his way out the classroom, and it’s going to be easier than solving a sudoku with only nine squares.

Back in the classroom, Kris placed a pencil against the paper and felt their hand move on its own, filling out all the questions with the precision of a calculator, and the accuracy of some otherworldly force which knew all the right answers, even when Kris disagreed.

I’m going to figure you out, Berdly. And next week is going to be the most fun I've ever have.

Chapter Text

Toriel’s office had a strangely domestic quality to it. There were two different electric water kettles in the corner, each plugged into the same wall socket, and a tray of home-baked somethings was on the countertop. It wasn’t actually a countertop, but with the Christmas cloth laid over the spare receptionist’s table, it sure looked like one.

A small sign was set atop the counter:

Students, feel free to a banana bread with you!

If you feel inclined to take another, make sure that you share it among your friends.

– Toriel

Upon closer inspection, the card also said:

For cat and dog students, there are no raisins, chocolate, or other troubling ingredients in this healthy snack.

Bananas are healthy for everyone :^)

- Toriel

Berdly wondered if Kris had any part in making them. Kris had the attitude of a receptionist, in Berdly’s opinion. He once asked the lady up front for a bandage after Noelle scraped her knee during a cross-country practice and the woman locked eyes with him for three seconds, ignored him for another minute, and handed him a single plain bandage that had already been cut in half by another student. Toriel wasn’t in her office that day but if she was, she probably would have given Berdly the whole box and told him to keep it in his locker in case other people needed them. Those bandages probably would have also had cartoon characters on them too and spoke encouraging words to you if you stared at them long enough.

Berdly knocked on Toriel’s door. The scent of her sweetened coffee was so faint, that Berdly caught his beak almost click against the frosted glass, trying to inch closer for investigation.

He ran through every possible combination of people that could be behind that door. On the bottom of the list of people he was hoping to see was his father but the odds of him missing a day of work were close to none so up next on that list was Noelle, or her parents, or the police, or anyone really.

“Oh, you’re here. Just welcome yourself in, Berdly.”

His father wasn’t there nor Noelle. Conceptually, this was the best outcome but the sight of Toriel standing in her office alone, idly sorting through some files was… familiar. And that’s what made it unnerving.

“Ms. Toriel…”

“Young one, I’m afraid I have quite a lot to discuss with you. We best sit down for this one!”

The words ‘young one’ echoed in the back of Berdly’s head. He knew that Dark Worlds, for all their peculiarities, stayed consistent to a few rules. Firstly, people were always aware of their time spent in the Dark World. Additionally, all those that travelled to across reality to a Dark World could remember their regular lives and mannerisms. Similarly, people who went to Dark Worlds and back carried some trace of that strangeness with them. Kris muttered more often now, eye darting around a person instead of at them, which Berdly now knew to be some strange reading ability they developed. Susie grinned sharper than usual, as though she knew something, which struck Berdly as peculiar because he doubted Susie knew much about anything at all, especially when it came to his own friend Noelle. And Noelle… she was stranger now than anyone who went to the Dark World. It was rare to see Noelle skip school for anything. Noelle didn’t get sick. She was healthy.

By virtue of all the strangeness that the others had developed from their time in the Dark World, Berdly concluded that the person in front of him was just a regular Toriel.

She wore thin-framed glasses, a purple gown (but without runes and symbols adorning the front), and a flat frown upon hearing something she didn’t like.

It was comforting that the regular Toriel could be unhappy, or rather, it was comforting that Berdly could tell if Toriel was unhappy. He certainly didn’t like the way she furrowed her brows as she sat down at her desk and gave him a prolonged stare, but it was at least an indication of honesty. He didn’t like when he left in the dark about something. It was nerve-wracking to sit around adults whose moods you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Berdly.”

“Hi Ms.”

“I heard you got into quite a major accident yesterday.”

“Um, it was relatively minor, actually.” Berdly figured there was no point in lying about that part. “I mean really… it was nothing I couldn’t handle.” He shook his hands like cymbals for effect, but Toriel wasn’t smiling.

“Your father called saying that it was rather serious.”

“Him? Oh, he just gets mad sometimes but it’s only because he turned fifty a few years ago and now his ligaments are weak and his back hurts so it… makes him easily annoyed.”

“I see.” Toriel sat up in her seat and put on a kind smile. “How are you feeling right now?”

“Perfectly fine!” Berdly figured that if he already knew that Noelle was sick at home, there wasn’t a need to bring up her name. “My shirt’s only wrinkly because it was manufactured incorrectly… Uh, I’m otherwise totally fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh yes, absolutely. I’m actually in great shape.”

“You father called last night. I heard from the librarian too that you and Noelle were studying at the library yesterday, is that right?”

“…Yes.”

“Well, it’s come to my awareness that yesterday, someone shoved you in the library closet.” Her tone became serious once again. “Is that true?”

Berdly gulped.

“Berdly, are you having some trouble with your peers perhaps?”

He took in a deep breath.

Just as rehearsed.

“Actually, I just passed out while I was in the closet. You see, Ms. Toriel, the fluorescent lights in the library are so annoying to sleep with and ever since they got those Christmas lights put up, it’s been impossible to get the room completely dark.” He didn’t mention that he put those lights up there during his volunteer hours. “So, I thought I would take a short nap, because the stress of school… I mean, oh god!”

Berdly decided long ago on the car ride to school that if he was going to face Toriel, he had to prepare some minor problem she could solve or else she wouldn’t be satisfied.

“School is just… so stressful! I have all this volunteering to do, and so much stuff to study for, I guess I just overworked myself and when I took a nap in the supply closet, I must have passed out for a little while. It’s a normal reflex for birds.”

“You were unconscious Berdly.”

“Depending on how you look at it, it was probably more like hibernation.”

“... It’s not winter yet.”

“Yes, but it was really cold in the computer lab! They have electronics there, so the AC is always turned on to protect the wires and everything from overheating. You know that one episode of Ghoblin Ghames when Patch’s pet hamster was passed out and everything thought he had died? Well, it was actually because his cage was near the box of ice cream, and he went into hibernation. Um, that’s what happened to me but in real life.”

Toriel just sat there dumbfounded at his explanation and for a moment, Berdly thought that this was the end.

“Are you really overworking yourself to that extreme? Oh Berdly, you should have told someone sooner.”

It was one of the few times that Toriel’s frown made Berdly relieved. Noelle’s name had not been brought up at all in the last few minutes.

“I thought I could handle it on my own but I couldn’t!” Berdly knew that this was a key phrase that guidance counsellors loved to hear. To them, it must have felt like seeing a question on the test that was take right out of the textbook.

Right on cue, Toriel tsked. “Berdly, I hope you understand what an irresponsible thing that was to do. There is nothing wrong with asking for help.”

“Uh huh. Yeah, I see that now.”

“And are you sure that nothing else happened at the library? I was told that the situation was quite serious.”

“Yeah, I skipped lunch because I was studying for the Spelling Bee. That’s why I was passed out for so long. And they don’t let you eat at the library, so my blood sugar was probably very low.”

Whether Berdly liked it or not, MK’s theory of what happened sounded a bit better than what Berdly had come up with, so he stuck with the blood sugar story.

“I should probably exercise more,” he added for good measure. They were all easy things for Toriel to fix. Perhaps a few pamphlets about healthy eating would be handed to him and he could thank Toriel in a few days’ time, promising to be better and the whole thing would be over with, and Noelle’s reputation would go by intact.

Toriel shook her head. “I didn’t know Alphys was assigning you that much work. Perhaps I should speak with her about that… And it’s making you skip meals, oh Berdly. This is not good.”

“Oh, no no no! Um, Ms. Alphys is not giving us too much homework! It’s the PERFECT amount, actually. I uh – a scholarship is on the line for the Spelling Bee this year, right? That’s why I’ve been studying so much! Because you know… studying is like water in a container. The size of the schedule is the only limit! Plus, there are like, a bunch of other schools coming this year. It’s a pretty big deal, yeah?”

“Hmm. Yes, there are several schools coming together for it this year. Does that make you nervous?”

Truthfully, it kind of did and that was Kris’s fault too.

Sometime in their third year of knowing one another, Kris had given Berdly five dollars for the Skooltastic Book Fair, on the condition that he’d combine their funds to purchase a box of pizza themed erasers and share the slices. Berdly however, had other ideas.

“It’s a classic. I’m doing you a favour.”

Extant Lifeforms 3: Green Variant was a deeply sought-after book, in his sphere of internet culture at least: a fantasy novel in the style of medical writings, complete with a hundred and one assorted dragon diagrams. Hometown bookstores didn’t stock those kinds of new releases – only travelling school board sponsors did.

“You know, most people go to the book fair to buy something to read. What do you even need that many erasers for anyway? You don’t even write that much…”

If one really wanted to comprehensively document the extent of Kris and Berdly’s encounters, it would take more work than completing a Master’s Thesis would require. In short, Kris set out to make Berdly’s life hell. Everyone knew that Berdly had a bit of a fascination with the kids from one of the neighbouring schools, not necessarily because it was relatively wealthier, a religious one (hence how they got so much funding), but what Berdly cared about was that they had something called an “Advanced Placement” stream, and students were stratified into different academic levels.

“I would thrive there.”

“Noelle and I need two more people for our debate team next fall. It’s in Monster Parliamentary style.”

“Exchange week? At our school?”

Berdly wouldn’t shut up about it. A gopher monster by the name of Christopher was coming to visit and Berdly was absolutely vying to have a Advanced Placement student and fellow Debate Clubber on his team. (If you asked Noelle, she didn’t particularly mind having two of their own classmates come with them, but Berdly insisted that they needed to ‘diversity their portfolio’).

“Ese niño es una mala noticia…” One of Christopher’s friends murmured to him sometime that week. “Drogas.”

Kris told Berdly that ‘Drogas’ was Spanish for dragons.

“Christopher!! Estar en nuestro equipo!” Be on our team, it meant. The words glided off his tongue with staggered syllables, but it was admirable for the amount of practice Berdly had feverishly stuffed in before exchange week. He waved a signup sheet in front of him and his friends, but Christopher just backed off nervously.

“Ugh, show off.” Catti was chatting with one of the Spanish students through a translation app on her phone, muttering to herself but just loudly enough to make sure Berdly heard.

The Spanish students were murmuring around him too, to Berdly’s confusion. His Spanish may have been somewhat choppy, but he had been introducing himself and talking all week. A few hushed whispers came from somewhere behind him in the hall.

“Berdly… uh, maybe not.” Christopher scurried off quickly, leaving Berdly to wonder what he had done wrong.

A few months passed. Berdly remembered staying in school with Noelle on the day of the competition, unable to attend because they only had a group of two. Noelle didn’t seem too bothered by it, citing that they could go get smoothies at the diner with all the extra time spent not preparing for the competition. Berdly didn’t have extra plans. This was his ‘extra plans’.

The Spanish students avoided him like the plague, and he had no idea why.

Berdly wondered what the other kids were doing. Perhaps they were all sitting in a dingy fast-food restaurant together after midnight because the event had been running late. Berdly could vividly picture them all laughing together over whatever food they could still buy at that hour. Were they drinking that kind of hot soda that he saw on television once? Perhaps they each had a golden medal wrapped around their necks, or a plaque they could pass around on the bus, which sparkled gold under the light of evening headlights that passed them along the highway. Maybe in another scenario, they lost. Maybe they laughed it off together because debate was unlike a spelling bee – it was a group activity and as long as you lost in a group, it hurt less. There was no immense personal pressure to win. Debate could be fun in a way that Berdly’s reigning sport of choice could not.

A month later, Berdly recalled being at the front of the class giving a presentation. He remembered the roar of laughter from the rest of the homeroom class as the Spanish teacher pointed out a mistake in his slides.

Drogas was definitely not Spanish for dragons. He had been talking people about how much he loved them all of that week.

Some people simply lacked the capacity to recognize the inherent value in some things and in Berdly’s mind, Kris was one of them – someone who would trade a book for a handful of erasers, someone who didn’t participate in extracurriculars and didn’t understand the importance of a competition, someone who couldn’t see that Berdly had better things to do, and yet, Kris always found a way to have fun at his expense.

Berdly despised Kris.

“Yeah,” Berdly said to Toriel through a tightening throat. “A little nervous. The Spanish school is also doing it this year?”

“That’s right. Are you nervous to see them? Is that where your stress comes from?”

Berdly’s reputation there was in tatters and the kids there would likely not want anything to do with him next week when they arrived. Regrettably, since he only knew them through exchange week, that was likely all they could remember of him.

He had to remind himself to unclench his beak while Toriel was looking at him.

“Let’s summarize something so that we are all on the same page. You were studying in the library with Noelle, but you overworked yourself and decided to take a nap in the closet where the temperature was too low. This was exacerbated by the fact that you’ve been skipping meals and had a low blood sugar… so you went into hibernation? And all of this was because you were struggling with school and other activities. Is that correct?”

Berdly nodded. “It’s tough being a bird.”

“Wait, do birds even go into hibernation?”

“Um, yeah of course they do.”

“And was this was what your father concluded had happened?”

“Yes! This is medically what happened. Um, but please don’t call him about it. He gets very upset when talking about family injuries. After that time I broke my wing, he’s been VERY sensitive and would not appreciate discussing the logistics of that kind of stuff so take my word for it.”

“Hmm.” Toriel gave him a sad smile. “Berdly, I think it might be best if you put aside some of those extracurriculars. It’s proving to be too much for you to handle.”

His soul dropped to his stomach. “Woah, Ms. Toriel… no, I can handle them, I – “

“Berdly, you said you were so overworked yesterday that you passed out in the closet.”

“Y-yeah but, I was just – “ His breath hitched. He could feel his resting rate climb.

“Berdly, you told me that you thought you could handle it all on your own – “

“No no… Ms. Toriel, I...”

“Berdly, I think you can stand to take a break from helping Ms. Boom at the museum gift shop, and volunteering at the library. I’m sure they can find new helpers while you are away. Rest assured, they will be perfectly fine in your absence – “

“What do you mean perfectly fine without me? They need me there!”

“Berdly, no they don’t.”

“They… don’t?”

“Oh, Berdly I didn’t mean it like that. You can visit them whenever you’d like once you are feeling better. I only meant to say that they will still be there when you come back – Berdly… oh dear. Are you alright?”

Berdly shook his head feverishly, his bravado melting away like condensation that dripped down the side of his face. The revelation that droplets of water were falling on his shirt was mortifying but he couldn’t do much to prevent it.

“I can handle it. I promise, but um… please don’t take that from me, it’s like... all I do afterschool!”

The words came out with a little more honesty than Berdly was expecting. He shrunk back in his seat a little more, but Toriel remained calm. It wasn’t the first time Toriel had handled difficult conversations and it certainly wasn’t going to be the last.

“Is there something you want to say?”

Truthfully, Berdly didn’t want to say anything, but God cursed him with an insatiable desire to speak where there was an opportunity and the words just slipped out.

“There’s nothing to do at home.”

Berdly’s beak was held shut by the ice all around him. He stayed suspended there, waiting for someone to come back. Minutes turned to hours, and all Berdly could feel was the lack of sensation in his arms and legs. Despite what people though, one could feel the lack of sensation. Neurons had two modes of signals. There was either a spark or a lack of one, a binary 1 or a binary 0, both of which were recognized by the brain.

Berdly just thought to himself across most of that idle time, wondering what people were up to. Catti was probably starting or ending her shift at the diner. Jockington… well Berdly hadn’t meaningfully talked to Jockington in a long time, but he was probably hanging around town somewhere or starting to go home. Kris likely left by now and returned home to Toriel. Noelle, if she was even coming back, was probably thinking of her family too. Berdly didn’t know where Susie came from and frankly didn’t care. He was vaguely aware that she lived with her uncle.

Somewhere in those hours, Berdly wondered if his father knew where he was.

Probably not. He was probably still at work.

“Berdly. Listen to me.”

“…”

“Your health is important. There is no shame in taking a break.” Her voice softened. “What happened yesterday was not something to be taken lightly. To put it into reference, if that was the result of someone’s actions, if would be grounds for their suspension or worse.”

Berdly shivered. The library computer lab wasn’t actually as cold as he led Toriel to believe. There were far worse places to be.

“Shh, I am not trying to frighten you, Berdly. I just want to make sure that you understand where my concern is coming from. Just because the damage inflicted on you was not done by another person doesn’t make it is any less serious. If that is the case, then we need to make some changes, okay?”

Her calm demeanour didn’t do much to help Berdly’s tickling fear of what she was about to do.

“You said that your accident yesterday was the result of overwork, yes?”

“…”

“If that is the case, then – “

“No wait. It’s complicated, I um… you don’t have to do that because well, actually… Noelle… um…”

“Berdly?”

He just looked away. He anticipated that there would be stakes, perhaps a little bit of his dignity or another few hours spent crafting another essay for Toriel but he hadn’t expect this to be on the line.

“I think you’re right.” The last words came out more like a croak.

“And what were you about to say about Noelle?”

“Nothing. I was just going to say that Noelle… would probably agree too.”

“… I see. In that case, I’ll speak with your supervisors. I’ll leave it to you to discuss this with your father.”

Just like that, everything he had was gone.

Berdly let the droplets of water fall onto his lap. It was mesmerizing in a strange way. The ambience of the room was suddenly all that Berdly could hear, like a dazed person coming out from a dream, feeling just the temperature of the air and the faint humming of old printers in another room. Toriel didn’t say a word to him as she typed in a few things onto her computer. Berdly just stared at nothing, taking in the gravity of what he had just done.

He spent years investing in that library, following rare book sales online to trade their books with sometimes older but more valuable ones. It was because of him that the library now had the completed ten-edition World Atlas series, complete and all signed by two of the fifty contributors, which Berdly had met on one of his father’s work trips one summer. His father rarely had time for trips like that anymore, given how busy he was. Berdly stayed in that library afterschool every day, cataloguing the shelves, filling in the missing author information and printing out new book sleeves for old, donated books that had lost their jackets along their way to the library.

Five translations of Juno’s Paradox, two completed stacks of Homer’s Anatomy, in both their old and revised series, and every major English book covered from kindergarten to high school was at their public library because Berdly took the time to hunt them down and add them to the collection. He wasn’t their keeper anymore.

Toriel turned around to face him.

“Berdly… given what your father is like, I’m sure he has made it seem like work is the most important thing that a monster can have, but trust me, this will be good for you in ways you may not see right now.”

“C-can I still sign up for the Spelling Bee at least?”

Toriel sighed. “Okay. Make sure to take a break when it becomes too intense, alright?”

“Yeah…”

“… Do you want to take your chemistry test in my office?”

Berdly had almost forgotten about it.

“I could tell Alphys to reweigh your mark if you aren’t in the right state to be writing it.”

“No, I’ll write it. I’m totally cool right now.” The last few words trailed up in pitch, but Toriel just sighed and offered to pretend she didn’t notice.

“Very well. I know this is supposed to be completed in only an hour, but I’ll let you have some extra time. Just take it slowly alright?”

Berdly picked up the Fountain Pen and tried to turn his mind away from things. However, it didn’t stop him from feeling bizarrely different now that he knew he was an entirely different person. Without extracurriculars, who was Berdly anymore? What was he even supposed to do with himself anymore? He read every book at the library and every book at home. Most people didn’t’ talk to him afterschool and the only people who did were either not his age or pretending to be too sick to reply to his texts. Berdly’s fist clenched around the Fountain Pen, a familiar weight in his hand that comforted him. It was proof that he was still here on physical Earth, even though everything that tethered him here had been snipped from him in sacrificing sweep.

I hope you’re happy Noelle. This was a bigger favour than you’d think.

Ink flowed like condensation through the tip of his pen. It came from seemingly nowhere but still pooled and splashed when agitated enough. Before writing his name at the top of the page, Berdly reached for his phone to turn it on silent. The only text was from his father:

>>>Busy again today. I’ll be home by the time you’re asleep. Eat dinner without me.

Empty house again. Berdly thought about it for a moment and decide that maybe it wasn't so bad. Who cared if that guy came home at all? Magic was real and Berdly could talk to anyone he wanted now. If Noelle was too sick to text, then let her be sick. She had Susie to talk to now anyway, and similarly, Berdly had other people who wanted his time.

Numbed by a newfound anger which replaced his sadness, Berdly sat up straighter and twirled the pen in his hands again. His chest still ached but it rejuvenated him now. The pain forced his cells to rub together and turn calories into heat. First, his eyes dried up and his hands stopped shaking. His breaths returned to normal, and Berdly finally set the tip to the paper and began to write.

In the back of his preoccupied mind, his schedule was filling out again.

First he was going to pull his chemistry mark back up to an A. Then, he planned to beat Kris in the Spelling Bee and prove once again that they couldn't take that from him no matter what cheats they used. A nasty part of Berdly's mind also hoped that whatever replacements Ms. Boom and the Librarian got to cover for his absence would be so terrible that those operations would be run into ruins. Where credit was due, Berdly honestly wasn't bad at those jobs. If given the chance to build a whole library out of scratch, Berdly was sure that his would be far superior. In fact, it would consist of every book Berdly ever liked and none of the vapid children's comics that he painstakingly curated based on his classmates' preferences, only for them to rarely go to the library anyway.

You can't be sick forever, Noelle. When you come back to school, I'll be expecting a huge thank you. 

The scene played out like a fantasy. The librarian would apologize for ever agreeing to remove him from his position and Berdly would turn the offer down. By then, he would have had that scholarship from the Spelling Bee and maybe even find a better library to volunteer at. His father would be so happy that he had won but Berdly would just brush him off and start making plans for college, picking a college so prestigious that it was in another continent and people could only visit him by plane. Part of that fantasy was that people would finally realize how much they missed having someone competent around and they would spiral into regret knowing that they didn't appreciate him while he was here. Berdly's pen practically dug into the paper as he scratched in the answers to the questions on the back page. Even he wasn't sure where all this sudden energy was coming from. 

Something about wallowing in bitterness just felt cathartic. It was reassurance. Of what, Berdly honestly didn't know, but it made him feel better.

Once finished, Berdly took one last look at the beautiful ink which ran across the front and back of the page. He admired the ways that the Fountain Pen could do what no other pen could. Picking up his things, he walked past Alphys’ homeroom door and made a beeline straight for home. He didn't care that he was missing the rest of the school day. He had better places to be.

Chapter Text

Ending the school day early was nerve-wracking for Berdly, who had only missed school once or twice to come with his father on conference trips held at fancy universities.

‘Fancy’ didn’t make up for the fact that academic conferences were incredibly boring unless you were one of ten individuals on the planet that were fanatically obsessed with the idea of using surface plasmon resonance to detect early-stage Lyme Disease or something like that. To his father’s credit, it was probably equally confusing to rationalize why anyone would be so invested in the canonical timeline of the Dragon Blazers games. There even existed a Dragon Blazers convention, with panelists.

               “Why are we at a research convention? I thought you were a doctor.”

               “Son, medical doctors also do research.”

               “On what? Isn’t patient stuff classified?”

               “New diagnostics, therapeutics, cancer treatment strategies, and the sorts. I co-authored a paper on human-monster lung transplantation success rates determined by a soul-derived antibody biomarker. The authors here have made some exceptionally novel discoveries, you know. Dr. Whittlestone is being nominated for an award and I actually knew him from back in graduate school. He was my principal investigator.”

               “You were friends with the principal?”

               “That's not what Principal Investigator means, Berdly. Regardless, these are exceptional people. I hope you’ll be one of them someday.”

The point was: Berdly had a theory to test. If he was right, that Dark Worlds could be visited at will and had consistent, actionable links to the regular world, then Berdly was about to stumble upon the greatest scientific discovery since electricity and penicillin.

Nobel Prizes had been won for less.

“Extra storage space…” Berdly mumbled to himself on the way home, “Like a hard-drive. It’s just like the humans in the Matrix except instead of using them for some metabolism thing, we could store so much information! A computer with so much memory… you could run three separate games simultaneously without overheating. Or calculate something important.”

Some time ago, Berdly had decided that if medicine was his father’s ‘thing’, then he had to do something else completely and computer science was the thing he settled on. He liked that it had the word science in it, and he knew a fair bit about computers already, even if it was just massive amounts of video game lore. It was good too, that his father had some genuine respect for the discipline. “Digital health records are at least two centuries behind, and I see no reason why your vaccination record has to be a physical piece of paper. Technology will revolutionize medicine!” Berdly didn’t need to ask to know that his father probably wouldn’t want him studying something like English Literature or Monster History anyway.

“No… maybe a new medical thing where uh… you can cure, diseases? That’s probably more important.”

If one could get hurt by messing around in the Dark World, then conceivably, one could become cured with magic from the Dark World too, couldn’t they? The applications of Dark Worlds for the real world were numerous. Of course, Berdly only thought of two, but that was just during his walk home. With a little more time, Berdly was sure that he could come up with something really good. And to think he’d be accredited for the discovery! It filled him with so much excitement, Berdly wasn’t sure he would be able to sleep again that night.

Of course, sleeping was going to be a central part of his plan to prove the existence of Dark Worlds because Berdly knew that a few principles were likely true:

1. You had to be unconscious in the real world for you to be conscious in the Dark World.
2. Magic was real in the Dark World and could be used to heal or harm others.
3. More than one person could be brought into the Dark World simultaneously.
4. Some physical and abstract features in the real world had counterparts in the Dark World.

Thinking like a proper scientist, Berdly asked himself: if these principles are true, then could a person with a chronic or terminal illness be brought into the Dark World, treated with magic, and return fully recovered?

Noelle, Berdly thought with every fibre of his soul. Noelle, Noelle, Noelle. Imagine if we could get your father into the Dark World and have him eat a healing pie or something. Imagine something like that actually cured him. You’d be so happy.

The thought of his own father filled Berdly with a strange sort of joy that he never got from thinking about his father, usually.

You’re going to be so happy too. I’m going to change the world, oh my god. Yes! God, I could go to any university I want. Hell, I would be the most famous scientist in the world. Proof of alternate dimensions… holy shit. Steven Duckling couldn’t even do it… but if I do…

Berdly eventually reached the front door of his house and surely enough, the neighbours were nowhere to be seen. Everyone was either at work or at school and those who were too old for either were probably indoors or at the hospital. Even though patient visits were supposed to be confidential, the hospital staff tended to treat him like a house pet whenever he came to visit and so, Berdly just heard things every now and then, though it wasn’t a lot. Noelle’s father wasn’t actually getting that much better. He knew that much, at least.

Clicking the lock shut behind him, Berdly set down his backpack and crashed down on the couch. His soul was racing.

For science, Berdly reasoned, as he took out a bottle of sleeping aids that his father explicitly told him not to take unless he needed them. No more than one, so don’t to get all fussy about it.

Time didn’t feel any different in the first half hour after he took them. He just spent the time changing into his pyjamas, trying tried to strategically place his chair beside the bed to block some of the afternoon sun, and idly rolled around as the drugs kicked in. However, by the forty-minute mark, Berdly began to overthink.

What happens if I do manage to prove the existence of Dark Worlds? Would Kris and Susie threaten to get Noelle in trouble if I do? Noelle would be… well, she could hardly be upset if her dad got better. And if I become famous, then who will even care about what Kris and Susie have to say? I’ll just deny it again.

A troubling possibility still remained.

What if I can’t prove it? What happens then?

The gash across his chest still hurt. His eyelids felt heavy.

               “These are exceptional people. I hope you’ll be one of them someday.”

               “But most people don’t end up getting doctorates in biomechanical engineering and then go attend medical schools at the Ivey Leagues,” Berdly wanted to have said to him. “Most people become things like patent filing clerks or quality control managers, and they can lead good lives too. You set the bar so high.”

Berdly drifted off to sleep as something cold began to fill the atmosphere around him. In one hand, he clenched the top button of his pyjama shirt and in the other, he held a loose button. Something different was happening, and he wasn’t sure what it was until he opened his eyes again.

Swatch paced the manor’s grand library halls, looking for a specific book. He wasn’t sure where it would be, but with all the expendable time in the world, he knew that he’d eventually find it. After all, as the young bluebird went about his day, the library’s shelves waxed and waned, bringing forth all the more important memories, some trivial, some significant, but all of them containing some key clues that would help Swatch at his job.

He was the Queen’s head butler. He is now some non-king’s only butler, which was admittedly a massive downgrade, but it was still a job, nonetheless. He picked out a book at random. The date indicated that it was generated just earlier that day.

Ms. Toriel

Still the same as ever. I just wish she had something other than banana bread. After all that stuff with Queen, I don’t think I can look at bananas the same way again. I hope she brings back those granola bars. Those were good.

She bought my lie. I think it’s working. God, I hate the smell of that candle though. I swear, grape flavour is like, the grossest scent for anything, much less the atmosphere. Besides, isn’t grape flavouring banned for ice cream because it poisons dogs or something? Who thought setting it on fire was a good idea…? This isn’t the sort of smell I’d expect you to have, Toriel.

Oh wait, I see now. It must have been a gift from someone and you’re just being nice about it. Well, if I had to, and I mean HAD TO put candles around my house, it’d be one of those old book smells because that’s probably what professors like, and if only I could just like the same things they do, then I’ll probably be one someday.

Well, father’s office smells like latex gloves and IPA cleaning fluid and he’s smart, but that’s so gross. If I had an office, it’d smell like freshly washed clothing. Wait no… I can’t let people know I like detergent. That’s so lame. If anyone asks, I’ll just say coffee…

No… oh god. Why is she taking this so seriously? I don’t need to take time off. I want to work! You have no idea what you’re doing. You can’t take that away from me.

I hate you Ms. Toriel. I hate you, I hate you!

I’m glad I didn’t say that out loud.

I like your office. It’s a lot nicer than his.

Chem test.

God this is stupid. I’m going home.

It wasn’t what Swatch was looking for, but it could still be useful. Setting the book down on the edge of the shelf, he tugged the page loose and tossed it over the back of his shoulder. Some faint rustling of fur followed suit and Swatch turned around to face Toriel once more.

“Welcome back.”

“Ahh well,” Toriel flattened out her gown and adjusted her glasses, now modern and thin-framed. “The staff are always going to need me to set things in motion around here. Is there anything new I should know about, young man?”

“I am older than you.”

“Oh, I do believe I am older than you. I have been working here for nearly three hundred years now, before the Young Master’s father, even.”

Swatch nodded. There was no need to disrupt the canon lore of the place, whatever form it took. As the self-appointed librarian, he was just in charge of making sure the right people were occupying the manor halls. At first, Swatch was incredibly confused that people who appeared in the manor for the first time already had elaborate backstories to tell, and genuinely believed that they had been here since decades ago. As a foreigner, Swatch was immune to the everchanging history of the manor, and was constantly baffled as new rooms were demolished, old ones re-appeared, and people changed their backstories to fit whatever state the manor was in. Sometimes, it felt like he was a silly child partaking in a role playing game with inconsistent characters and frequent narrative changes.

The Swatch, and by extension, the Swatchlings, were a species built for change. Their colouration never stayed still and they too, adapted their appearances to the atmosphere of the room that they were in. However, The Swatchlings were also a species built for community. Birds of the same feathers flocked together, and it made Swatch incredibly frustrated that the people here were always changing in their histories with one another. Their physical appearance, their personal narratives, and their private rooms, were renovated constantly to the whims of whatever Berdly was feeling. Did the boy know how fleeting his own moods were? Swatchlings never changed in their kinship to one another. Bluebirds apparently did and Swatch had a disdain for creatures like that. Creatures who adopted other birds’ nests and young and claimed them as their own. A bird, in Swatch’s opinion, should never forget where he came from, and it was imperative that a good bird never forgot which flock they actually belonged to.

               “Sometimes, I feel like the world has passed me by, Toriel. They all disappeared when the world ended.”

               “Oh, is that the start of a poem? Viscount Temmie from the West Hall was reading me some wonderful songs last weekend. She is such a dear.”

               “Wait… who is Viscount Temmie? You mean Timothey Champagne from the basement room?”

               “Mr. Swatch! Viscount Temmie has been here since last year, don’t you remember? And who are you talking about? I’ve never heard of any Timothey.”

Strangely, Swatch wondered if that was how his world was made. Did it too appear out of thin air? Was all of their Kingdom’s history fabricated entirely in his own mind just as he was materialized into the world? Swatch remembered his childhood, his history with all of the Swatchlings, and the story of The Knight – a mythic being who came from other worlds and set down the Fountain that gave theirs a physical form. Existentially, Swatch wasn’t thrilled. Nothing felt permanent here. Perhaps the Knight who made the Cyber World was equally as fleeting and uncooperative as Berdly was. However, The Knight wasn’t so narcissistic to make himself the centre of their world.

Time stood still when the boy was there. The manor needed the boy to be around for it to stay still and orderly. Otherwise, it flexed and withered as fast as one thought could be replaced by another. Swatch was frankly sick of the way the halls morphed and reorganized himself. The only place where he could expect some peace was in The Archives. Sometimes, the shelves would drop some books onto the floor, and other times, the books would miraculously appear back onto the shelves. As distracting as it was, Swatch found it comforting. At least the contents of The Archives were consistent.

“Hmm.” Swatch rustled his feathers and let out a deep breath. “That is precisely why I’ve summoned you here, Toriel. Might I request some information about the Young Master’s father?”

“His name is Timothey Champagne?”

“Oh no, I just needed a segue into what I wanted to talk about. Regardless, I think the boy’s father was not there at the coronation… rehearsal. If I’m right, that’s most likely the reason he got nervous and left. He’s just a boy – stupid, young, and awfully insecure. However, I do wish to bring him here more often.”

“Well unfortunately, I don’t know much about that!”

“You don’t?”

“It’s strange, really. I’ve been here for so long, and yet the only real details I can remember clearly are from the other day, when the Young Master came to get something to eat. Honestly… I don’t recall much about the Young Master’s personal life. Perhaps he keeps that to himself, stored somewhere in The Archives. Oh, is that why you’re here, Mr. Swatch?”

“No, no I was just cleaning. Definitely not snooping around. But thank you regardless. If I may, do you think you can prepare something with a lemon scent? A key-lime pie or something with lemongrass in it.”

“Is that what he requested?”

A knowing gleam in Swatches eye told her enough. “I believe he will like the fresh scent of lemons. Just no grapes.”

Toriel shot him a short-lived glare, as though to say, “I know how to do my job!” but she just rustled her sleeves and left to gather the rest of the staff.

“Ms. Toriel! Just one moment.” Swatch reached into his coat pocket and took out a pair of glasses, black rimmed with one of the lenses yellow and the other a rosy red. Their appearance, unlike Toriel’s current pair, did not change. “These were mine. Let’s switch glasses just for today, I want to pull a ruse with the servants. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

“Swatch, that is ridiculous.”

“It will be hilarious!”

“Well, I suppose so. Just be sure to return them to me soon. I’ll let you know what the kitchen hands think.” Toriel handed her own glasses, which switched between thick and thin frames every other minute, almost to a dizzying degree though of course, no one else but Swatch could tell.

“Thank you Toriel.” He gave her a small bow as she took the stairs leading down.

As soon as she was gone, Swatch put on his spare pair of glasses and pocketed Toriel’s pair. He didn’t actually plan on wearing them.

Swatch continued his pace down the library hall. Sure, Berdly didn’t want him prying into his life but how was Swatch supposed to keep the manor in working order unless he took it upon himself to learn all of the manor’s secrets? It was only obvious that the boy’s father would be a nice addition to the house if Swatch was going to convince him to stay. However, finding any information about him was tough. Book upon book left out details of the elusive man, referencing only some footnotes, which unhelpfully asked the reader to refer to another book, one that was located on a floor even higher above. Wherever the pages containing the story of the boy’s father were, they were somewhere impossibly high.

One particular book caught his eye, just around the next corner of shelves.

Ideas – mostly good but some of them are bad, I won’t lie to myself about that.

Tsk, Swatch thought to himself. Far too long of a title. Immature and untidy. My Swatchlings would have done better.

The entry read:

Extra storage space like a hard-drive.

No… maybe a new medical thing where uh… you can cure, diseases? Yeah, like if you could do magic and – oh I’m onto something! If you could just cure someone here, couldn’t you cure them in the real world as well?

I mean, you could definitely kill someone from the – no. Stop thinking about it. Just, augh!!

Noelle.

Noelle, Noelle, Noelle. Imagine if we could get your father into the Dark World and have him eat a healing pie or something. Imagine something like that cured him. You’d be so happy.

Oh, and father too!

Swatch’s eyes gleamed at the word father written on the page.

You’re going to be so happy too. I’m going to change the world, oh my god. Yes! God, I could go to any university I want. Hell, I would be the most famous scientist in the world. Alternate dimensions… holy shit. Steven Duckling could never prove it… but if I do…

What happens if I prove it?

What happens if I don’t?

It wasn’t what he was looking for, but again, it was useful. Around him, the world began to grow brighter. Quickly shoving the book back onto the shelf, he fished through his pockets for Toriel’s glasses and carefully held them up to his eye-level and waited. Three minutes passed, then four, and eventually ten. The glasses didn’t change in appearance at all. The world was stagnant once again, anchored down to the harbour by something.

The boy, he thought. He’s back.

Berdly woke up on the same wooden stage he last stood on when he left the Dark World. In a perfect circle around him was a large metal birdcage – almost insultingly circumferential from his spawn point, as though to say, “look you idiot1!!1! We got you1!!”. To be fair, however, most zoo creatures didn’t have rooms so spacious and elegant. The cage was not so much of a prison as it was an ornate thing that informed visitors, “hey, you’re not supposed to go past this area.”

Toriel sat on a rocking chair in front of him, a cup of tea in hand. She was wearing bizarre type of 3D glasses like the ones kids used as bookmarks for picture books printed in red and blue. “Would you like me to pour you some?”

“What on – “

Berdly looked to his right hand and sure enough, there was a ceramic cup in his hand in a nice manilla shade just like the button he recalled he had last been holding. Without moving his arms, he gently lifted his hand off his chest which he had unknowingly been clutching and trailing down his soft linen shirt were ceramic buttons.

“You like it? It’s freshly washed.”

“Umm, yeah. Ceramic is a strange material for such a thing. I’m more of a plastic guy.” Berdly counted the buttons on his shirt, and it was the same number as he had counted before he had gone to bed. Evidently, real world objects did always have their counterparts in the Dark World, it just wasn’t always obvious.

“Tea, my Lord?”

Berdly was frankly too exhausted to cringe at the sound of his teacher call him Sir or Lord, so he just caved in. “Sure. Sounds awesome.”

Reaching past the bars of the birdcage, Toriel poured some hot beverage into Berdly’s cup and waited for him to give it a sip. It smelled nicely of lemongrass – nice and fresh.

“Mmm! Is this Earl Gray?”

“That’s not even remotely correct, I’m afraid.”

Berdly stood up and stared right above. What was formerly the headlights from the stage was now a column of library shelves that spiraled endlessly upwards. “Where are we now? This isn’t what it looked like the last time I was here.”

“Oh, you mean above us. Those are The Archives, dear. They appear around the Fountain.”

Right, Berdly thought. But don’t get distracted from your mission.

“Ms. Toriel, do you know how to do healing magic? For all sorts of illnesses?”

“Well, yes. Oh, are you sick?”

“So sick! I can't believe it! Anyway, my chest hurts just right around my soul. Could you fix it up maybe? With some magic?”

“But is that not where you keep the Fountain? Oh, I wouldn’t mess with the Fountain. I could tamper something by accident. Besides, what use do you have for magical healing? That tea has healing properties already and it will keep you healthy for years to come. I had an expert tea-maker prepare it for you.” Toriel gave him a kind wink. "Which would be me."

“Um... thanks. Uh, can you heal this hand for me instead?” Berdly reached his weapon-holding hand out towards Toriel, scorched side facing up. He could check the next morning to see if it healed in real life as well. “And by the way, did you guys build this cage thing for me or did you do that by accident because erm – I’m not a fan. As King, I hate it.”

"You're the Lord of this manor, but I do recall you skipping your coronation so for you, you aren't really our King."

"Oh my god. And you guys CAGED me here for it?!? Petty much..."

“You're so silly, my Lord! This isn't to keep you in, it was put here to safeguard the Fountain while you were gone.” Toriel’s green magic began to make its way through his knuckles. “Though, it will be quite a hassle to have to build another Fountain safeguard, so if you would be so inclined, you should consider exiting the same way you came.”

“You mean, the Fountain stays wherever I leave it?”

“Oh, do you not know? The Fountain grew uncontrolled, according to Mr. Swatch. When you left, he went through great lengths to contain its power. As far as I know, The Archives have always been right here, but Mr. Swatch insists that it only just appeared after the Fountain was placed here when you left so I’ll choose to believe him. An old woman like me probably just forgets. Hah… sometimes, it feels like my memories just write themselves.”

Berdly didn’t recall the Cyber World Fountain needing a cage. “Why does it need to be contained?”

“Think of a delicate ink pen. Without the barrel, the ink bleeds everywhere.”

“…”

“I know Mr. Swatch was not so pleased when you left so abruptly, my Lord.”

Berdly gulped. He at least knew that peoples’ bodies didn’t stay behind after they left Dark Worlds now. However, the knowledge that Swatch was upset with him made him uneasy.

“Ms. Toriel… you can just call me Berdly. I –” Berdly nearly crashed into the bars as he lurched away from Swatch’s sudden landing right behind him. “Where the hell did you come from!?”

“Toriel, may we have some privacy?”

Berdly backed into the edge of the cage as much as he could but there was only so much that he could do while on the ground. The cage ran vertically up, not across. Swatch rustled his feathers and gave a curt bow that was somehow so disrespectful but in a way that Berdly couldn’t really find something to complain about. He watched as Swatch stared him down and beckoned for him to speak first. Berdly had no idea what to say.

“Um, sorry for leaving last time, I guess. Look, I had an urgent appointment last time that I had to tend to. You know, I’m quite important in the Lightner’s world. And sorry about the whole Fountain thing. I’ll leave the same way I came.”

“NO!” Swatch batted his hand away from his chest.

Berdly was shocked. “I – I’m totally stoked to see you again. I swear! I think I’m getting the hang of this place now. I just... I just need to get out of this thing first – “

“I have a proposal, Berdly.”

“Oh, that is LORD Berdly to you, Squatch!” Berdly said it nervously but loudly, which in his mind, cancelled out the nervous energy.

“Fine. ‘Lord Berdly’, I have a proposal to make.”

“Go ahead. You’ll l-let me out, right?”

“Don’t worry, this is just to keep the Fountain contained."

"Then what was that for then??"

"I wasn’t attacking you. I merely didn’t want to you to leave so soon after you came. Follow me.” Swatch knelt down and extended a marvelous cape of black feathers, just barely grazing the heavy wooden floor of the stage. With a quick snap of his arms against his side, Swatch leapt into the air and lifted himself towards the winding column of shelves, up towards The Archives. Berdly didn’t follow.

“Is there an elevator?”

Swatch landed back towards the ground with a resounding thud, his dress shoes clicking like a whip. “Don't tell me your father bird never taught you how to fly.”

“No! I know how to fly! I just… not straight up into the air! I need to start from a high place and glide around. To fly downwards or horizontally, you know.”

“All of the Swatchlings could fly since they were born. And you can’t?”

“Hey, don’t say it like that! I consider myself to be pretty good at flying. Bluebirds are probably just one of those monsters that aren’t built to fly vertically up, and why would they anyway?! Who built this place in such a stupid way? You mean to tell me there aren’t stairs!? There are goddamn stairs everywhere else!”

“Pardon me. What?”

"Just tell me what your proposal is and then you can show me around the place some more," Berdly said curtly. "I didn’t come here to chat; I have important work that I need to take care of!”

“And what would that be exactly?”

“Well, I was thinking...” Berdly wasn’t so sure he should be telling Swatch anything. Though Berdly was technically King, all he had really done in the Dark World thus far was eat a pie, drink tea, and get intimidated by one specific bird. “Hey, where’s Noelle? Wasn’t she here from last time I was here?”

“I put her away.”

“You WHAT? You didn’t kill her, did you!?”

“Well, she got awfully bored after you left, and you forbid anyone from reading books around here so what else was she supposed to do? I sent her away. She effectively doesn’t live here anymore.”

“Away where? And woah, I didn’t say anything about banning books! What kind of idiot would do that? I told you to quit reading my mind like – like a…”

“Book? That’s what every book is here, Berdly. Do you get it now?”

“It’s LORD Berdly.”

“Oh my god… ‘Lord Berdly’. Fine. Regardless, what I’m telling you is that you can’t keep coming and going like this. If you wish to be king, (and you must, might I add), then I need you to follow me. We can take the stairs as you requested but we are going to work out a way for you to make this your permanent residence. Then, we can finally finish that ceremony you interrupted last time and –“

“Live here permanently?”

“That’s what you’ll need to do if you want to be King. Are you going to start acting right or not?”

“You didn't even answer my first question, or any of them really. This has to be a joke..."

Swatch leaned in far more than necessary to drive the point home. “No.” His eyes were barely visible behind the opaque lenses of his glasses. His beak was sharp like the scalpel’s end and his gaze was scientific – calculating, unemotional, and dissecting.

“Okay okay… let’s talk about something else. Is Noelle, okay? I mean, she’s not the real Noelle but still… that’s cold, man.”

“Odd word choice.”

“Ngh – no, I…”

“She’s as real as anyone in the Lightner’s world. You think you are more valuable than anyone else here because you’re a foreigner? Your ill fate wasn’t any more significant than the ill fates of anyone else that day. And if I recall, I believe you had a falling out with the Ms. Noelle of the Lightner’s world. I don’t see why you should be so attached to a world where no one seems to like you very much.”

“So, you were snooping. I told you not to pry!”

“No, I just heard you yelling her name down the hall last time you were here.”

“Then… then where did you hear that last part then?”

“Oh, so it’s true?”

“No!”

“It’s a shame, really. What value is there to this so-called ‘authenticity’ you’re assigning to the Lightner’s world? It’s entirely arbitrary. Are people more real because they are on bad terms with you? Does that add a layer of ‘realism’ that you couldn’t achieve here? That’s pathetically sad, isn’t it? That the most damning marker of realism is how much they find you insufferable? Think of all those you want to have here at the manor. You could effectively live here forever, and it would be no less ‘real’ than the life you had before. Just better.”

“No, that’s obviously not the same? Everything in the Dark World is a homologue – that’s a fancy genetics word for ‘things that are the same’, or at least that’s how my father explained it. Anyway, everything is a homologue of something else in MY world. I think I know what I’m talking about. And no, I’m quite revered in MY world.”

“Am I fiction, then?”

“Well, you’re…”

“What am I homologous of?”

“…”

“Hmpf. I thought so.”

With a sweep of the wrist, Swatch set the metal bars of the birdcage into motion, rotating in a perfect circle but at varying speeds. “Can you solve this puzzle?” he asked. “Actually don’t bother, just follow.” Swatch waited until there was a gap in the cage before stepping through and Berdly followed suit, just barely, before the metal bars could snare the tip of his tail.

“Swatch, that could seriously hurt someone.”

“A necessary precaution.”

“For whom, exactly??”

Swatch didn’t answer.

Berdly followed him up the winding stairs towards an amassing stack of shelves, reaching up towards infinity. Of course, if Berdly’s father were here, he’d groan and remind everyone in the room that infinity wasn’t a very scientific noun to use and that it made no sense, mathematically.

“Swatch… what are we here for? You said you wanted to propose some kind of plan.”

“Not a plan exactly.”

“Then what?”

“We’re going to retrieve your friends. Starting with Ms. Noelle, and your family perhaps.” Swatch leaned in close. “Berdly, what’s the thing that you want the most?”

Berdly scowled. “Do you want to purchase all my user data too? I don’t care if Ms. Toriel set you up to interview me. God, you and her both. She’s a guidance counsellor at heart but you really are a product of your world… constantly prying and way too noisy –”

“Is it something physical such as a food perhaps? Or is it abstract, like leadership, or the feeling of accomplishment?” Swatch relaxed his posture. “A trouble related to a person perhaps?”

“… Yeah, but I could just visit them back home.”

“This is your home. I mean, it is quite literally a manor and you made it specifically tailored to your wishes.”

“Wait, MY wishes? How come a person has to fly everywhere then? No way I came up with that part.”

“Perhaps you wanted it that way so you could have the right justification to learn it.”

Berdly thought about it critically for a second. It was technically true that he had only attempted to fly when he was a kid and since that broken wing accident, none of the teachers would have let him attempt it again. His father... well, he was the one who saw most of the actual physical injury, anatomy and all. And it wasn’t like bird monsters really flied anymore. Not since the invention of planes and cars.

“I could teach you to fly. There’s nothing embarrassing about that.”

“Is it safe?”

“Toriel will heal you. You could do whatever you’d like here. No consequences – isn’t that fun? Here, lets bring one of your dear friends over. We could all have dessert together. Vegan too, just for her.”

Swatch picked a book off the shelf that was marked with a piece of holly that stuck itself at a specific part of the book. Berdly watched in fascination as he witnessed the uncoupling of the pages once again, just like the other day. Swatch took out a single sheet and let it fall to the floor. Before it could touch the ground however, it began to fold, paradoxically expanding until Noelle stood in its place, sweater and all, just like how she looked last week.

“Hey, you didn’t stay around for the banquet. We were wondering where you went!” Her hair was too fluid to be fake. Berdly could count every individual strand if he wanted to and her face moved with every imperfect twitch like a real person’s face would. It didn’t seem right to say it to her face that he didn’t think she was real too.

“I had… stuff to do. It was urgent.”

“Oh. Y-yeah, I guess that makes sense. Ha! Dad thought you were scared of the crowd or something, but he says stuff like that all the time about everyone.”

“Your dad? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t he be?”

Swatch smiled. “Seems like you two are on good terms once again. Aren’t you happy?”

Berdly grimaced. It was profoundly strange to speak with her again in a Dark World, of all places. “I guess.” However, it didn’t feel earned. It all happened to quick. The resolution wasn’t quite as satisfying without the right buildup. Quick solutions needed a lot of action and solutions with little action needed a long maturation period. That was, in essence and very simplified, game storytelling 101.

“Ms. Noelle, perhaps you can go find something to do downstairs. A few minutes is all we need.”

“Oh… of course! Um, I’ll see you later, Berdly.”

Berdly was preoccupied. He traced a feather across the dark wooden boards that ran above and below the thick spines of all the books, each with their own distinct unique styles. It was uncanny how something he had never seen before could be so familiar, but the combination of lettering and colours pulled it off. There had to have been a little bit of magic involved. Thick manilla sheets against a marvelous bookbinding job, with string that glowed every brilliant green, blue, and reds against the light of the hall.

“You know, we’re going to need a librarian.” Swatch said, resigned to a soft smile. “Since you don’t want any of us to pry, it should be up to you what goes on at the manor.”

“Library. Wait, all this?”

“Of course.”

“It looks like the libraries at the university. Woah…”

“You like libraries?”

“I ran a library in the Lightner’s World.” (Technically, Berdly was more of a glorified custodian who helped scan books into the computer for free.) “Honestly though, if what you said was real, then I’m kind of disappointed that there’s like, no electricity in this place. I mean, what the hell… there’s not a single computer in the building?”

“Perhaps the medium of technology was not what you enjoyed the most. Texting is no different from written letter. Gaming no different from sport. The unconscious mind is honest.”

“Yeah, sure... But I guess, well, maybe it’s good that this place isn’t anything like the last.”

“Cyber World was quite different, yes.”

“Do you ever miss it?”

“I’ll compromise.”

“Uh, that’s not what I asked.”

“I’ll stay clear of your books under the condition that you make it a commitment to come here as often as you can. If you have work to do, then do it here. And in the meantime, I’ll teach you how to fly.”

“…”

“What do you have in the Lightner’s world that you couldn’t possibly have here?”

Berdly knew that to prove Dark Worlds were real, he needed to figure out a way to invite another person in. However, that would require him to spend a considerable amount of time here, in order to understand how the world actually worked. The answer seemed obvious, apart from one complication.

“Okay listen. If my father finds me unconscious in my sleep, he’s going to freak out.”

“Then come back when he is not around.”

“That would be most of the time,” Berdly grumbled.

“Well, that sounds like we’re reaching our compromise, no? A few hours every day. That’s all.”

Technically, Berdly didn’t have a choice whether he would be returning or not, unless he skipped sleeping entirely. However, he could choose to go to sleep early. And he did have that bottle of sleeping aids.

“Yeah,” he said. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

Chapter Text

Susie, for the better part of that week, had been arriving to school on time. Consequently, that meant that she was spending most mornings sitting and listening rather than throwing rocks into the ocean or sleeping in. On one hand, it was entertaining to hear all of the classroom gossip but on the other hand, it was becoming increasingly unnerving to witness how the classroom was changing. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that something changed after their most recent Dark World adventure. Noelle was missing school for the first time in years and Berdly was… well, he was just acting strange. Hell, even Kris was acting strange, but Susie just didn’t know the words to articulate what was going on.

               “Kris, he’s not going to meet us afterschool. He ditched class. Ahh, that’s kinda funny actually. He’s becoming shitty after spending one afternoon with us.”

               “Let’s find him after school.”

               “Forget it. He’ll be here tomorrow. Let’s just go visit Ralsei.”

               “No. We already talked to Ralsei yesterday and he said there was a new Dark Fountain.”

               “How does Ralsei even know?”

               “He can travel between Dark Worlds, remember? That’s how he got into Cyber World. Listen, Ralsei told me that he got a glimpse of something in the distance, a castle or something, but it was there one second and then gone the next. It’s definitely Berdly’s fault. I can feel it. We need to put more pressure on him, and he’ll eventually crack. Then, we’ll make him tell us where the Fountain is so we can destroy it.”

               “… Jeez. Kris, are you sure about all of this?”

Berdly walked into class Thursday morning half-asleep and reeking of coffee. Susie sometimes wondered if Berdly was intended to be some social experiment by his dad to see how a person would turn out if they were raised entirely from school alone. If that was the case, then Berdly skipping school and showing up late was the functional equivalent of having a fight with ones’ parents.

“Dude, where did you even go yesterday?” Jockington whipped his tail in excitement. “Toriel came in and asked where you were! Did something happen?”

“Skipping half the day, huh...” Catti, who had been looking away from her phone the whole time began to smile. “It’s the start, Berdly.”

“No, it’s not. First of all, that's what we call ‘an assertion’ – a claim without any foundation. But don't worry, you're in good company. Second of all –”

“I’d hardly call you good company, Berdly!” Monster Kid leapt up from his seat to lock eyes with him, though Berdly didn’t bother to turn his head to where the noise was coming from. “The class had a party after you left. It was like peace on Earth had been restored.”

“Did anyone see Noelle this morning or is she not coming again today?”

“Wait, you’re not even going to say something back?”

Berdly turned his head around, exasperated. “What, was I supposed to write that one down or something? That wasn’t even clever. And keep quiet, will you? My head hurts...”

“Well then, maybe you should lay off the coffee dude. Since when did you drink coffee?”

“It’s the ultimate adult beverage. You’ll understand when you’re taller.”

Susie watched the conversation go down from the back of the class. Berdly, on a regular day, sat up straight like some kind of King in the middle of his courtyard, surrounded by counsellors who fed him bits of things to reply to, scaffolds upon which he could build his thinly-disguised insults. But today, he was oddly quiet. It wasn’t that he spoke any less. Rather, he just lacked that boisterous energy he usually carried with him. He was subdued, tired, and softer spoken. Susie noticed that he consistently kept a hand wrapped around himself, just below the chest. His breathing was even staggered if you watched closely enough.

               “Kris, tell me the truth. You were the last person in the room before we left. Did – was Berdly actually just sleeping when you left?”

               “Hey, don’t play dumb with me, Kris! Did you shove him into the closet or was that someone else? I mean, fuck. I think half the school hates the guy and the other half just want a chance to get that stupid spelling scholarship but for real, Kris. Berdly spent yesterday in the emergency room. I think this Dark World stuff is like… actually dangerous.”

               “Kris! Are you even listening?”

               “Okay okay… so you didn’t do it. Hah… yeah. That’s what I thought.”

               “Nah, I was messing with you, Kris. No no, I believe you. Berdly’s got a bad habit of skipping lunch to go to the library and probably fainted like the wuss he is. And you know, food’s not allowed at the library so he barely eats. That stupid bird.”

Berdly’s did look a bit thinner today and his head was disheveled heap of feathers, some sticking up and in the slightly wrong direction. Like some kind of disgruntled tv architect from a historical drama, in his hand was a fancy looking pen, the kind you needed to buy liquid inks for, except nowhere on Berdly’s desk was an ink bottle.

This ain’t the Victorian era. You look like a goddamn idiot.

“Hey Berdly,” Susie heckled from across the empty seat between them. He whipped his head around. “You plan on stabbing someone with that thing?”

“No!” Berdly almost looked offended.

“I was just joking, man. Jeez…”

The final person entered the classroom, late again.

“K-Kris! You have a late slip I hope?” Alphys was just about to finish attendance for the morning. However, Kris sat down in the chair right behind Berdly and didn’t say a thing. “Well, I bet Toriel already knows you here, obviously. Hah… I’ll just mark you down as present.”

Berdly’s demeanour changed as Kris walked in.

Susie was no stranger to the harmful stereotypes that people still had regarding ‘predator’ and ‘prey’ monsters. They were particularly nasty labels if you were someone like Susie, who had been labelled a predator from the age she could start walking. Those differences allegedly had “no bearing on a person’s ability to learn, work, or make friends,” according to Toriel, but Susie knew that wasn’t even true. There were meaningful, not even bad differences to being either one, and it was frankly bullshit to try and pretend like there wasn’t. Sure, unexpected friendships could form between monsters like snakes and cats, as Jockington and Catti would confirm, but within the classroom ecosystem, people still tended to make friends within their own demographics. Berdly and Noelle were both technically prey species, and that definitely helped keep their reputation as ‘Monsters of intellect and not strength’, despite Noelle also being the school’s best track athlete for several years. Since Monday afternoon, Susie and Kris had also become a friend group and both were categorically predators. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take much for them to be known as more ‘physically inclined’ and less studious, even though Kris’s grade in gym class was as terrible as Berdly’s was. It certainly didn’t stop Alphys, who knew perfectly well what Kris’s grades were, from asking Kris to help lift boxes around instead of Noelle.

The point was, differences did exist between monsters and as a career bully, she knew precisely what to look for. Berdly was a serial overthinker and constantly weighing the pros and cons of a particular problem, which was so satisfying to think about once you realized that was probably why he was in the debate club. When Susie used to creep up on him in the hall, the first thing he did was raise his arms a bit and Susie could see the feathers on his head start to press flat. His eyes would dart around, but his body wouldn’t move, as he often did when he was deep in thought. Now, Susie knew a bit about humans too. Humans were very different predators than most monsters. They were something called ‘persistent hunters’, meaning they weren’t active go-getters, but they never stopped pursuing until they reached the end, whatever that might be. Humans were known to develop life-long aspirations and subscribe to the idea of a ‘destiny’ more than Monsters did. Sure, it was a bit of a reach, but Kris was often procrastinating on homework and handing in things late, and was that not a demonstration that no matter the task, Kris saw it through to the end anyway?

Berdly sat quietly at his desk, feathers pressed along the back of his head, with nothing coming out of his mouth. Kris’s words from yesterday rang in the back of Susie’s head. ‘We need to put more pressure on him, and he’ll crack.” Susie hoped they weren’t serious about their plan to bullying him until he essentially has a breakdown. They were supposed to be legendary heroes, weren’t they?

Susie didn’t actually like being thought of as a predator. Most people didn’t have to worry about things like that, but Susie didn’t have the luxury of not knowing.

SUSIE replied to NOELLE at 8:35 AM Thursday:

> (Highlighted Message): “Is Berdly doing alright?”

> (Thumbs UP react)

Frankly, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but Susie recalled that Berdly once broke an arm so by that frame of reference, he was doing perfectly fine today.

SUSIE >>> hes being his usual self. you decide if that’s good or bad

NOELLE >>> You said he went home early yesterday, was he hurt?

SUSIE >>> i don’t think so?

SUSIE >>> anyway, you have a bunch of fancy pens that you let people borrow right?

NOELLE >>> Well, I only have two more since people keep forgetting to return them T____T

NOELLE >>> Wait, did you forget to bring your pencil today? Ask Berdly, he has a bunch. He said his dad bought him a whole box of mechanical pencils after he found out Berdly was stealing them from his desk except he hates it when his dad gets him stuff lol.

SUSIE >>> no im talking about this pointy black one

SUSIE >>> ill steal it while he’s not looking and give it back to you if you want

NOELLE >>> Wait! I know which one you’re talking about.

NOELLE >>> He won it at a debate competition, but they didn’t give him any ink so it’s basically a paperweight LOL

SUSIE >>> well, he’s writing with it right now

NOELLE >>> HOW???

SUSIE >>> bought ink at the store mayb

NOELLE >>> They don’t sell ink at the grocery store!

SUSIE >>> that sounds like his personal problem

“Alright class let’s start now. I um… well, okay. Ms. Toriel is really hoping there will be a high student turnout this year. I know you all have that Spelling Bee coming up, so I just wanted to extend the due date for your group projects and give you all some time to study.”

Susie kept tapping away at her phone.

“Susie… please put that away? U-unless it’s an emergency. (But oh god, we already had two illnesses in the last two days please don’t…)”

“Uh, I’m taking notes for Noelle. She asked me to.” Susie turned her phone around and sure enough, Noelle’s active text bubbles were visible for everyone to see.

“Oh!” Alphys looked pleased and even the rest of the class turned around in surprise. Susie didn’t like the number of eyes pointed at her. “Oh, well that’s great! You can um… you can keep your phone out.”

“Hey, I usually take notes for Noelle.” Berdly’s voice came out meek. Surprised. Defensive.

Kris, who rarely contributed to impromptu discussion, suddenly spoke up. “Oh, did she text you?”

His eyes darted between Susie’s hands and her face and finally, right at Kris. That’s when Susie saw it: his beak snap shut almost immediately. The gesture was so subtle, you had to be actively looking for a detail like that to even notice. With Kris sitting in front of Susie, she couldn’t tell what Kris’s expression was, but she could see Berdly’s, and he was turning pale fast.

“Listen,” Susie said loudly to break the sudden silence in the classroom. “I don’t give a – “

“ALRIGHT! Let’s just start class!!”

Around her, people start to shuffled their binder sheets but Susie went right back to birdwatching. Noelle had put her on two tasks: one, take as many notes as she could, and two, report back on any classroom news.

SUSIE >>> what were u saying about kris yesterday? 

SUSIE >>> what was it?

SUSIE >>> hey, are you still online??!

“Alright everyone, can someone read from the middle of page 53? It, erm – hold on. Okay, it’s page 63. Any volunteers?”

Susie kept refreshing the screen but there was still no reply.

“No volunteers? Berdly?”

Susie looked up, surprised. Berdly, who normally jumped at the chance to start talking was oddly silent. Even Snowy, who normally put his head down when it was time to call for volunteers, looked up and around to see what was going on. He caught Susie’s eye, but she just shrugged and went back to her phone.

“Well, let’s find someone else to read –“

“I’ll do it if Berdly doesn’t want to.” Kris cracked their knuckles and flipped through the textbook until they found the right page. Susie wasn’t expecting that. Judging by the sudden silence across the classroom, no one else expected that either.

Least of all, Berdly.

He didn’t move a muscle to object.

The rest of the day passed by quickly for Susie, who had a surprisingly good time relaying all of the day’s lessons and homework to Noelle.

You really are as smart as people say you are, Susie thought. You always have something to say. I wish you said things more often. I think people would love to hear it.

SUSIE >>> she called on him again, but he just shrugged. she said he might know the answer to some question about the suffragette movement lol wut

NOELLE >>> Omfg. Okay, so I actually know the story behind this. It’s so funny but don’t tell anyone okay?

SUSIE >>> im going to tell everyone.

NOELLE >>> No, please don’t! T__T

NOELLE >>> Anyway, at the beginning of the year, he apparently tried to look for books about ‘talking to girls’ at the library but they obviously don’t have anything like that. You’ve been to the library. Anyway, so Berdly ordered a text from the university using his dad’s account, since his dad gets priority from the library system for work. I kid you not, the thing that Berdly ended up requesting was something called ‘Discourse on Woman’ which turned out to be an academic lecture transcript about human woman’s suffrage from the 1800s.

SUSIE >>> did he read it?

NOELLE >>> YES HE DID

NOELLE >>> But it was only like 20 pages or something so instead of being sent to the library, they photocopied it and mailed it to his dad’s office since Berdly ordered it from his dad’s account and that’s his mailing address. Anyway, his dad found out and Berdly was so embarrassed that he lied and told him that it was for this English presentation. But then his dad said that he didn’t want Berdly misinterpreting such an important text, so he was going to check his assignment after he was done and Berdly ended up having to actually read it.

SUSIE >>> LFMAOFO HOW DO YOU KNOW THIS

NOELLE >>> Because we had to be partners for that English presentation!!!! Don’t you remember?

SUSIE >>> i think i skipped school that day to get out of doing those LMFAO.

NOELLE >>> I already picked out a different book but then Berdly made us read this one instead! He told me everything to convince me to do it lol.

SUSIE >>> how was it? The book i mean

NOELLE >>> Not bad.

NOELLE >>> You know, we should go to the library sometime.

SUSIE >>> eh, the library isn't normally my place to be.

A full minute passed before Noelle said something back. Her texting bubble was active the whole time, and Susie was left to wonder what she was writing that needed so much editing.

NOELLE >>> Well I think that’s perfect to make it our thing, isn’t it?

Susie snorted in class, which she quickly transformed into a cough once she realized people were beginning to stare. Susie could feel her hands grow warm and her lungs itching to speak.

Is this what being told you’re smart feels like?

“I’m going to need two volunteers to do this math problem,” said Alphys. Susie rose her hand just a little until Alphys called on Berdly. “Here, you can do this one if your throat is hurting today or something.” She passed him a piece of chalk, which Berdly reluctantly took as he headed to the front of the classroom.

Susie quickly put her hand down and pretended to be writing down something. Talking with Noelle was one thing: it made you feel smarter, more capable, and more knowledgeable. Doing anything with Berdly felt like the exact opposite. He could make you feel dumb just by existing around him. She remembered being randomly picked to do a problem side by side with him and it was downright humiliating to hear that he was done the problem before she even finished reading it. For what it was worth, Berdly was socially stupid, but he at least had his multiplication table memorized.

“I’ll do it.”

The class gasped as Kris stood up and walked to the front of the class. Kris’s hair was an unbrushed shag that crept over the forehead to conceal half their expression at any given moment. The white chalk dusted Kris’s hands like a chimney sweeper and under the fluorescent lights of the classroom, Kris’s face looked entirely different, older even. Susie didn’t think an idiot trying to attempt a math problem could look so intimidating. Berdly on the other hand, just looked miserable.

What’s going on with these two today?

“Okay, it’s not a race,” Alphys reminded everyone. She needed to say that whenever Berdly was involved with something. “We’re just going to make sure we have the right answer! That’s why we have two people. Okay. You’re going to solve for X.”

Susie blanked out for a moment. Noelle was going to have to study from the textbook because Susie had no idea what they were doing up there.

Berdly began scratching his equation on the board as fast as Alphys could read it out loud, but Kris stood there unmoving. As much as Susie hated how Berdly liked to flex his so-called ‘smartness’ in front of everyone, it was kind of mesmerizing to watch him work. It was an open secret that Berdly and Noelle did problem sets after school every day and no doubt, from what Susie has seen, being with Noelle probably made him that way. Regardless, it was fascinating to see the complex problem slowly be reduced to just a few lines of variables, slowly all gathered to one side of the equation, with numbers on the other. Strangely enough, Kris’ hand was hovering just an inch away from the blackboard surface. It was only when Berdly was nearly done with crossing out the constants that Kris began to write.

-0.707106…

Alphys was incredibly confused. Kris stared off into space for the entire time that Berdly spent writing, not once looking over to see what Berdly had written. And yet, the numbers just started coming out in small batches of three of four, like someone was jotting down a number being fed to them through a phone call. Berdly, who was just reaching the end of his answer, scowled to make sure that he was indeed seeing what he thought he was seeing.

…78118…

His chalk left the board, but everyone was still fixated on whatever bizarre wizard spell Kris was making. Berdly’s answer was short and neat. Expressed in a simplified fraction, it read:

“negative root two over two. Berdly… that’s right! Kris, let’s see what you – oh my.“

…65475244008

Kris turned around and crossed their arms to say ‘I’m done’.

“Wait, hold on one moment.” Alphys fished out her calculator and the class waited with bated breath. Slowly, Alphy’s eyes began to widen. “Kris… that’s – that’s correct. Wait, how did you get the numbers?!? That’s … what on Earth…”

Susie snorted from the back of the room. “Ayyy!” She gave a slow clap and soon, everyone followed. Kris pressed a chalk into Berdly’s hand and gave a self-satisfied smile before walking over to their seat. Susie leaned in close. “Hey, did you actually do that or did you pull a trick or – “

“I listened to my gut.”

“Erm – okay then…”

Berdly shuffled quietly back to his seat, having received no commentary on his work. Susie could hardly feel bad for the guy. So what if he lost a chance to flex. However, Susie was a bit concerned with Kris. The sudden ability to outperform Berdly felt… unearned. Unrealistic, even. If Noelle couldn’t even beat Berdly at the Spelling Bee in the most recent years, then Susie highly doubted that Kris had somehow surpassed Berdly over the course of a single day.

SUSIE >>> no one’s watching this conversation. Just tell me. What were you going to say and Kris yesterday? I know this is going to sound mean, but I feel like Kris has gotten better at school really fast. It’s super weird!??

NOELLE >>> Kris has a way of talking, idk.

SUSIE >>> Not really? Talking isn’t exactly Kris’s strong suit.

Not until today it wasn’t… Susie neglected to add.

NOELLE >>> I’m probably just imagining things.

SUSIE >>> Tell me anyway. I’ve seen some weird shit recently. There’s nothing you could say that I wouldn’t believe.

NOELLE >>> I’m not sure how to put it but I guess I’ll try.

NOELLE >>> You know when you start showing interest in something and then your parents go overboard and sign you up for lessons and send you off to competitions, but you really don’t want to? And then whenever you do that thing again, all you can hear are your parents telling you what to do and how to do it, so it completely ruins it for you?

SUSIE >>> Not really.

NOELLE >>> Well, Berdly rants about this and his dad all the time. He probably knows exactly what I’m talking about. He told me that he hated using those mechanical pencils that his dad kept buying for him because he didn’t want to have his dad’s voice constantly at the back of his mind whenever he was at school. And sometimes, I see Berdly being annoying or trying way too hard to do everything and I ask myself: who is making him to do these things??? There’s no way he was just born like that???

NOELLE >>> I get it now. I know that fountain pen is totally useless but the fact that he won it is probably why he likes it so much, right? He doesn’t associate it with anything. Or, at least I don’t think he does.

SUSIE >>> What does this have to do with Kris?

NOELLE >>> I know you’re going to think this is completely random, but I can’t get Kris’s voice out of my head. I’m just constantly wondering what Kris would think of me if I did something they didn’t like or what they would want me to do. I felt like my intuition isn’t even mine anymore, you know? Now, I’m constantly tired but I can’t sleep either.

SUSIE >>> What does intuition mean again?

NOELLE >>> It means your gut feeling. That voice in your soul or whatever people call it.

NOELLE >>> I just find that you shouldn’t always listen to it.

Susie honestly didn’t understand what Noelle was talking about, even if she was trying to make it sound like she did. Glancing at the corner of her phone and then the corner of the classroom, Susie realized that entire day had gone by without her noticing.

“Alright class, before the bell rings, can I just get an idea of how many people are planning to go to tryouts next week? U-uh, it’s okay if you don’t know! The tryout day hasn’t been decided and um, lets see…” While Alphys scrolled through her computer, the class broke out into whisper.

“Someone has to beat him.”

“I can’t wait to see him lose.”

“I think Kris is going to win. Did you see them totally beat Berdly at that math thing?”

“That’s math, dumbass.”

“Do you think he got Noelle sick so he could take out the competition?”

“Oh my god, you think he would do that?”

“Wait, how hard is it to study for a Spelling Bee, actually?”

SUSIE >>> That makes a lot of sense.

NOELLE >>> I knew you’d get it. I thought Berdly would be the only one. You’re really clever, Susie. Much more than people give you credit for.

SUSIE >>> Thanks I guess.

SUSIE >>> Hey, school’s almost done. Alphys is collecting names for the spelling bee. So, what’s your move?

NOELLE >>> Sign me up.

NOELLE >>> And while you’re at it, Susie… you should do it too :^)

Susie wasn’t so sure about that.

“Sorry for the wait, class. The email here says that Spelling Bee is still on next Friday. So, if you plan on showing, can you just raise your hand or s-something?”

Unsurprisingly, Berdly’s hand was the first to rise.

“Hey.” Kris said it loud and clear so that the whole class could hear. “Are we still coming over later to see that thing you built?” The question was, on the surface, very innocent. What teenager didn’t have a few lego sets lying around? Or a nice physics project for another class?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he eventually said.

Kris’s hand shot up.

Then, something miraculous happened. MK stood up from his seat (since he didn't have hands), which wasn’t entirely unexpected. He had been hinting that he was going to attend this year, but with MK, Snowy also joined the party. On the other side of the class, Catti and Jockington shared a mutual nod and soon enough, everyone in the class was signing up for the Spelling Bee. All except for Susie.

“Noelle texted me just now.” Susie gulped. Sitting at the back of the class meant that no one’s gaze was directed at you, usually. “She said she’s also signing up.”

“And what about you, Susie?” Alphys didn’t mean any harm, but it suddenly hit Susie that this was what Noelle was talking about. The coercion, the voices in ones head telling them to do it. Susie wasn’t sure what compelled her to raise her hand but what felt like an itch in the tendon of her arm quickly became a tetanus – an uncontrollable, irresistible urge.

“A full class! Oh, Toriel’s going to be SO pleased!”

“Change of plans today.”

“Hey, why are we heading into the library?”

“The whole class is meeting up at the library to study for the Spelling Bee.” Kris smirked. “Don’t look at me like that. Yesterday, I asked my mom why Berdly wasn’t at the library, and she said that he’s taking a ‘break’. It’s the perfect place to do it because he won’t show.”

“Listen, Kris. I don’t know what happened back there. I’m probably gonna ditch the tryouts. I have no idea why I agreed to it.”

“Whatever. We’re just doing this to put pressure on Berdly right? He’s starting to freak out.”

“I guess...”

The library computer lab looked absolutely nothing like two days ago. Or rather, everything looked completely ordinary, which was probably more unsettling because Susie was secretly hoping that the other Dark World that Ralsei saw was just some remnant of the Cyber World that they forgot to deal with. It could have been a fun and easy adventure. But no, their next adventure was going to be studying for the Spelling Bee.

“You guys came! Awe yeah, now that we have Kris’s help, at least one of us is totally going to make it!”

I’m here too, MK… Susie thought, but she bit back the urge to ask why he didn’t look so happy to see her there. Noelle's texts were still fresh on her mind. “You’re really clever, Susie. Much more than people give you credit for.”

Noelle had a strange way of putting a funny feeling in Susie’s stomach, one that she didn’t hate, actually. It felt encouraging, like one of those cartoon angels that sat on your shoulder and tried to get you to do the right thing.

“Are you guys going to join us or what? You're standing in the door” Catti was holding up a dictionary for Jockington to read. 

“There’s a book I need to find. I’ll be back.” Kris walked off to a nearby shelf, leaving Susie standing idle in the doorway of the computer lab.

“Uh, and I’m just here to watch.”

However, right before Susie could step in, the librarian put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her aside. She was waiting nearby like some kind of overprotective hawk. “Is the temperature okay or do you want me to turn it up?” She whispered.

“Uh, no that’s okay. I got a jacket on.”

“Well, you let me know if you start feeling tired.”

“Wait. Do I look tired or something?”

“Oh, absolutely not! It’s nothing for you to worry about, dear. Big and strong girl like you.” With a hefty pat on the back, the librarian sent Susie away more confused than ever.

Back in the computer room, Catti was struggling to get Jockington to hold the book up on his own. “Hey Susie, if you’re not planning to study, can you at least help us?”

Susie grabbed the thick book with ease. “Whatever. Sure.”

“Oh! Oh! We have to do it like the professionals do it!” MK said excitedly. “You can ask for a repeat, the meaning of the word, or to hear it in a sentence and Susie will do it for you!”

“Fucking hell…”

“I mean, you got the definitions in the dictionary already. You just have to make up the sentence.”

Susie scavenged the dictionary for a nice long one just to piss him off but got sidetracked, with Kris temporarily out of earshot. “Hey guys, what was up with Berdly today? I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You’re supposed to find a word, not make up any random sentence!” Catti protested, but once the bait had been thrown, there was no stopping it. A wave of chatter erupted.

“Yeah guys, did you see how tired he looked today? He barely talked the whole day. It was super weird!”

“Bro, he was lowkey in the hospital yesterday. Give the guy a break. He’s probably recovering from a bird flu or something. You know, cuz he’s a bird.”

“He was probably high off that drug they give you when to do surgery on you.”

“Berdly got surgery!???”

“Nah, I was just throwing guesses.”

“Guys, can we just focus on the Spelling Bee? It probably wasn’t that serious. MK said that he fell asleep at the library and his blood pressure dropped or whatever. I mean Berdly’s probably still tired and all he eats at lunch are berries and crackers.”

“Fell asleep, huh…” Jockington didn’t usually interrupt Catti while she was speaking but his tail flicked up, suddenly stopping the chatter. “That’s odd.”

Susie frowned. “How? Last time I saw him on Tuesday, he was sleeping at the desk, like right there.”

“No, I’m not talking about that, but like, isn’t it weird? The librarian totally dress-coded me earlier and told me to wear something warmer than a hat, or she wouldn’t let me into the room. She said the same thing to MK, and that’s probably what she said to you just now, right?”

“Well I was already wearing a jacket… but uh, she did say something about getting tired.”

“Oh my god, that’s what she said to me!” MK said excitedly. “I was the first one here and I kept asking her why. She told me ‘Well, I’ve been getting word that students were falling ill from how cold it was in there and I know you’re reptilian.’ And I was like ‘Hey! What does that have to do with anything?’ and then –“

“Exactly!” Jockington interrupted again. “Well, she didn’t say that to me. She told me she didn’t want me taking any naps in the computer lab, but she’s only telling the reptile students this. Not Snowy, or Temmie, or Catti. Don’t you think that’s weird?”

Suddenly, Susie began to put the pieces together. Berdly was found unconscious at the library. And if no one else was there after Susie and Kris left, then the librarian must have been the one to call the police. Or, at the very least, she would have been there when the police were called. However, that didn’t necessarily mean that she knew why it happened.

“I guess,” she said. “But what’s your point?”

“Birds sleep when it’s cold, don’t they? Or something like that. It’s not just reptiles.”

“You think that’s what happened to Berdly?”

“Well, that might be what the librarian knows.”

What Susie still didn’t understand was one thing. Why would the librarian fire him over that? That didn’t sound like his fault.

Oh wait. No, he wasn’t fired. Kris said that he was put on ‘break’. Toriel said that, technically.

But now the problem was, how exactly did Toriel know whether Berdly had been booted from his library job or not? Barely any time had passed yesterday, between the time when school ended and when Kris asked her why Berdly wasn’t at the library. And surely, Berdly wasn’t going around parading the fact that he lost the thing he liked to brag about the most. He definitely didn’t seem like the kind of person to want to give that up voluntarily.

Unless, Susie thought, Toriel had something to do with it. Didn’t Berdly get called down to the office yesterday? Frankly, Susie didn’t know what to do with all that information. If Berdly didn’t tell the librarian, then he told Toriel. So what?

But that means that Toriel could have told Kris, and Kris did ask. You know this.

Nevermind, why would that be the case, anyway?

The next half hour went by normally for the rest of the group, but Susie was feeling increasingly uneasy. It wasn’t because of the theorizing, or the half-baked accusations being thrown around. It was the fact that Kris had brought them all here specifically for the purpose of studying behind Berdly’s back. Susie didn’t say it to anyone because it sounded crazy, but Kris seemed to always have a knack for knowing exactly what to do. They always showed up in the right place at the right time. In the Dark World, Kris was always, and automatically their leader, and despite appearing like they were just staring off into space all the time, they were somehow aware of everything going on, noticing important details almost immediately, which was something that only happened when you already knew what to look for. And that stunt in class… it was just strange.

That’s when Kris finally walked in, holding a giant textbook on evolutionary biology.

“Hey Kris, while you were gone, we were coming up with theories and – “

“Oh, I heard it all, MK. I was just outside the door. Anyway, you guys better look at this.” Kris plopped down a book about birds and flipped to a specific page that had been bookmarked.

“Bluebird animals in the wild are migratory,” the page read. Everyone crowded around the book to get a better look, but Susie already had a feeling what was written on those pages.

Susie wasn’t an idiot. Berdly claimed to have fallen unconscious due to the cold. And that book was there because of its greatest implication: If bluebirds were migratory, then that meant that…

“Bluebirds don’t hibernate.” A sharp smile appeared on Kris’s face. “Whatever Berdly told the teachers, he was lying about why he was in the hospital.”

“Wait, why would lie then? " Catti whispered as the crowd pulled in among themselves. "Does he have something to hide?”

“He was acting weird in class today.”

“Skipping class yesterday… what was he doing that whole time?”

This was all part of their plan to put pressure on Berdly, wasn’t it? And it didn’t seem to matter whether Susie was fully in on the plan or not, as long as Kris was leading the operation. She was just in for the ride. Susie looked to Kris, then to the circle of classmates gossiping among themselves and back to Kris.

Susie had a bad feeling about how this plan was unfolding.

Chapter Text

Truthfully, Berdly knew that he wasn’t the smartest person ever. Most of his life, he had just gotten by because he was slightly more hardworking than the average person and he was good at memorization, which again, was just a function of hard work, not intelligence. Homework was getting harder without Noelle’s help and deadlines were piling up everywhere: Spelling Bee, build an East Hall for all the new residents of Stormcrow Manor, hand in English homework, go over the list of new recruits planned for the manor with Swatch, and then more. Life in the regular world wasn’t bad, per say. Berdly just felt like there was more that he was capable of doing here in the Dark World. Namely, because he had help and it was from anyone he could ask for.

“Did you find anything about healing magic in this one?”

Dark-World Kris was given worldbuilding duty because Berdly insisted that the manor ought to have some full-time construction engineers and Kris had ‘plenty of sandbox worldbuilding experience already’. That, and Swatch couldn’t stand Kris stalking around making no noise and not doing anything productive, so Berdly offered to keep them busy in the library as there was no way to ‘let the dog outside for a walk’, so to speak. Berdly couldn’t believe that he didn’t realize it as soon as he arrived at Stormcrow Manor, but there were no windows around and no ‘outside’ because the whole world was just the house.

“Seems like a design flaw,” said Dark-World Kris when Berdly first brought them here. “What idiot built this place?”

In some ways, that was a plus. Everyone was always in the manor. They didn’t have to leave to go to work. Just like how it’s supposed to be, he thought.

He remembered the hot summer days when he and Kris would go to his air-conditioned house and just play Minecraft using his laptop and the desktop in his father’s home office. That was before they even got mods. It was just them in the mountains building little houses in trees, suspended over physically impossible chasms.

“I think I checked that one. It’s only about healing food,” Berdly said. “Nothing new about illness. Though, there’s still that pile for like, basic stuff. Colds, back pain, throat scratchiness. Ugh.”

“Well, I don’t really see the point of building a whole med bay, then. We should make another picture gallery room. Those are easy.”

“No, no, we can do it. And it has to look just like the regular hospital. You see, it’s been optimized for best patient care and –“

“Doesn’t look like it would match anything we’ve built so far.”

“No, it will.”

“Damn, you’re so bent on having things done your way.”

 “… If you were me, you’d see how incredibly ironic that statement is.”

Dark-World Kris was a noticeable improvement upon regular-world Kris. For one, they were always some degree of ‘on-board’ with whatever new plan they were going to have. Berdly normally found constantly positive people annoying, but Kris was alright because if anything, they were constantly in a state of neutral disinterest, which was more like what Berdly was used to at home. When all of this was over, Berdly was going to do the impossible task of curing Noelle’s dad when even his own doctor father couldn’t. He’d be held up as a hero in the regular world and everything was going to amazing.

“What do you plan on doing to the place, then?”

Berdly was growing fonder for the Manor every time he came back. He essentially built this place. He was its founder, and by proxy, that made it his second home. However, Berdly wasn’t sure how he felt about that. His actual home was in the regular world. He lived with his father on 55 Mulberry Lane and his actual room was there, full of unopened boxes of mechanical pencils that his father bought him, and it was next to the kitchen, where surely his uncooked dinner was there waiting for him when he came home from school. Of course, Berdly just fed it to the birds outside and poured the rest in the compost because he had already eaten in the Dark World. His father wouldn’t be able to tell the difference whether he ate it or not. By the time he came home, it was always after Berdly had fallen asleep and it would be too dark outside to see anything.

“What are you talking about, Kris? We have so much building to do! We don’t even have to mine anything here! I think we should start building the med bay tonight.”

“Well, you better come back as soon as possible so we can get the most amount of building time in. You know I can’t do anything until you come back.”

He had to remind himself sometimes, that this wasn’t actually his home. He didn’t live in the Dark World. This was all just a hobby. Something to pass the time until Toriel got off his back and he could resume his regular extracurriculars again.

“My Lord, a moment please?” Berdly, who was used to Swatch’s pestering by now, went out into the hall to see what was going on. “Sir, you must know that we’re going to have a logistical problem.”

“What is it? Is Fuku Fire messing up all the decorations in Snowy’s room again?? Kris and I literally put their rooms on opposite ends of the manor a reason.”

“That worked fine. The problem is that this ‘Kingdom’ is pathetically small.” He took a moment to appreciate the slight recoil in Berdly’s posture as he said it. “We can’t just keep renovating existing spaces and adding rooms. What we need to do is create entire new wings of the house. Several floors above and below us, that stretch miles in every direction. That’s what a kingdom should look like.”

Berdly frowned. “Don’t you know how house construction works? That’s not how it’s done in Minecraft. You do that AFTER you’ve already set up your main base. Then you worry about all that stuff. Listen, I’ve made a bazillion houses before and you always need to flesh out certain rooms to the max before you start expanding, and – ”

“What.”

“… I don’t have time for all that. Just –“

“What does ‘flesh out’ mean?”

“Oh, heh. I forgot. That’s not a saying here. Anyway, listen, I have it all under control. Just let me keep doing what we’re currently doing. I just need more time –“

“Which you would have if you were here more often.”

Berdly slapped a wing to his head. “This again… I told you, I am already spending all my free time here.”

“It’s not enough. You know, there are things that happen while you are away, and I have no way of contacting you. What am I supposed to do if I can’t get your approval for certain courses of action? You forbid me from reading any of the books in The Archives or make any large decisions on behalf of the Manor when you aren’t here. Who or what am I supposed to consult, exactly?”

“Okay. Oh my god! There are some things called implicit tasks. Like, if I asked you to make me a cup of tea, I shouldn’t have to ask you to clean the cup, make hot water, and then pick the tea leaves and UGH!! Is this what my father means when he says that sometimes he feels like he’s the only person in the world who can just do anything right? Like, if I asked you to get three apples from the store, and I ask you for an update, I – “

“Can’t you solve this, easily, by making this your permanent residence?”

“No! We’ve been over this! I have to keep up my life in the Lightner’s world and I’m doing all that I can. Hell, I’m supposed to be at school eating LUNCH right now!”

Berdly clutched his chest as he tried to keep his soul from beating too fast, but he couldn’t conceal the fact that he was wincing. Swatch peeked across the crack of the library door and onto a small pile of books, barely a feather’s length tall. “Healing magic, books of alchemy... My Lord, are you hurt? Allow me.” Swatch circled around Berdly, much to his protest.

“I mean, I have been feeling this weird pain in my chest… in the Lightner’s world and I feel kind of… okay that’s not the point. Those are for someone else – “

“Someone else?”

“Don’t worry about it. I still haven’t figured out any way to bring other people from the Lightner’s world here. It’s impossible or something.”

“Is it your father? That you want to bring?”

“What? No! It’s for Noelle’s father! Why would you say that?”

“You talk about him constantly. Mostly complaints, I’ll acknowledge that, but if we could bring your father here, would that convince you to stay?”

“Um… I-I really don’t know. That feels weird. I feel like I’d always be able to tell the difference. It’s uncanny and – ugh. Nevermind. I’m going to go back to work.”

“… Solid decision, Berdly.” Swatch smiled.

Berdly rolled his eyes. “Stop saying that. I told you to call me ‘Lord’ or ‘Sir’. That… that sounds too similar to what – nevermind.”

“You know, you could maximize your time by just eating here. Then, you can return to the Lightner’s World and come back when it is convenient for you again.”

Berdly stopped, with his hand just above the library door handle. “You know, that’s a good idea.” No one had been bothering to him since Thursday and for what reason, Berdly didn’t know. However, that also meant that no one would really notice if he was gone for a little while longer. It was like the class was avoiding him, though Berdly knew that was impossible. What reason did they have to avoid him for? He had done nothing wrong.

“Sure. Lead the way. Hey Kris, are you coming?”

“No, let Kris work. It’d be best if some of your friends stayed out of the dining room for the afternoon.”

The Fountain room was the same room as the former auditorium, where Berdly’s botched coronation took place. Up on the stage sat the metal cage, where Berdly would go when he needed to set the Fountain down and leave. It was also the same room that greeted him whenever he arrived and by necessity, the same room where everyone gathered to eat. Swatch had insisted that they turned this room into a throne room, given its significance, and that they make a proper banquet room upstairs, which admittedly, made sense if Berdly wanted to keep bringing more people into the Manor halls. However, Berdly’s insistence on renovating the existing rooms before expanding put a dent into that plan. The auditorium as the only place with enough seats to accommodate so many people and naturally, Berdly had wanted to have his whole class there.

“Hey Berdly, we’re so glad you came!” said Jockington and Berdly returned a brief handshake.

Berdly sat down at the head of the table and waited as Swatch hushed all the residents. Sir Snowy the Third, Viscount Temmie, Junior Admiral Jockington, Cardinal Catti, and even Dark World variants of Toriel and Ms. Alphys were there, along with some random people Berdly recalled living in hometown.

After all, every good fantasy world needed NPCs.

“A winterberry pie? Oh, I had been thinking about it all morning! How did you know to make this?” He asked Toriel.

“Swatch requested it, actually.”

“And it must have been a lucky guess,” Swatch said shortly after.

Strangely, the table was otherwise empty except for a large dome, like those for revealing thanksgiving turkeys, which was covered in velvet cloth and sat at the very end from where Berdly was. The Fountain room was dim, with the exception of the magical candlelight. It illuminated the room just enough for Berdly to see the room’s most prominent features: the stage cage, the table, and the thing at the end of the table.

“What’s that?” Berdly asked. He had just begun to cut into his slice of pie.

“You want me to unveil it for you?”

“Yeah! Is it a surprise or something?

Swatch walked over to the other side of the room and set a feathered hand to the top of the tall dome. The room fell quiet in anticipation. Berdly’s mind was racing with what could possibly be behind the cloth that was so important as to clear out the whole table. Was it a large cheesecake? A chocolate fountain? It would certainly be funny to have a little fountain here to match the large one that was normally supposed to be in the room when he wasn’t there.

“I wasn’t exaggerating when I said that there were things that happened while you were gone that required your immediate attention.”

Swatch’s voice was suddenly very serious, which was a subtle difference since he didn’t normally show that much emotion to begin with. However, after spending so many years living with people like that, Berdly knew what to listen for. Berdly could tell that things weren’t right. His voice never growled like that or lose weight at the end of his sentences.

“This manor is perfect. We have created something wonderful here. A truly rich house in its own culture and community. A monument that will last forever if we do it right. And in the proper spirit of this dignified house, Stormcrow Manor, I made sure to prepare only the most suitable accommodations for our exceptional new arrival, who came unexpectedly this morning,” Swatch stared directly into Berdly’s eyes. “… while you were away.”

Berdly wondered who he could be talking about. Did Swatch introduce someone else from hometown that Berdly had forgotten about? Berdly looked around at the table and saw no one new.

“And as per the social customs dictating how historical diplomatic gatherings should be held, I thought we should do it in our glorious Fountain room. It is the reason why we are here, after all.”

Swatch swept the cover away and sitting inside the birdcage was a small white goat dressed in green, fit with a green wizard’s hat and a red scarf. Gasps propagated up and down the table as people looked eagerly around to see what everyone else thought. Eventually, eyes began to set to the very front, awaiting some kind of indication as to what was going on, but none came.

Berdly sat frozen in his chair, and the air around him went stagnant.

Slowly, the Darkner in the cage began to stir. His ears were the first to perk up at the sound of Swatch’s footsteps pacing around him, sharp talons clicking against the elegant, marbled floors, and the sweep of his tail made a faint stir in the atmosphere. Perhaps it was his wings, which were tucked neatly behind him in a formal salute, though from the vantage point of the tabletop, Ralsei could see that they were likely larger than him, even without spreading out. He gulped. Birds don’t eat goats, do they?

“W-where is this?? I was just here to quickly visit. You see, I’m a prince from a nearby kingdom. I didn’t mean to intrude or anything!”

“Young prince, you were a fool to come visit us again.”

Ralsei squinted through a small wall of candlelight to get a better idea of who was circling around him at the end of what looked to be a dining table.

“You’re not going to eat me are you!? I hope not! I wouldn’t taste good, oh absolutely. I eat junk food and barely exercise, I swear!”

“No.” The large black omen replied, “We don’t do that here. We mostly eat nuts and berries. I mean, we are birds.”

“Oh.”

With a sudden sweep of an arm, the candles in front of him blew out in rapid succession, leaving just enough light for Ralsei to see, but they were no longer blinding him.

“Do you recognize us now?”

Ralsei thought the man looked familiar. “I’m sorry. I think I do sort of remember you, but your name… I – I’m not the best with names.”

“It’s Swatch.”

Ralsei looked around the room. “Wait… Berdly! What are you doing here!? Did Kris and Susie already send you here to destroy the Fountain?”

Swatch hit the metal birdcage with a spoon, causing a loud rattle that shook Ralsei out of his last sentence.

“Don’t speak to the Young Master like that. At best, you are a guest here. And at worst,” Swatch said as he leaned in, his voice sinking even lower, “you are our political enemy.”

Ralsei’s eyes widened. “Wait, I remember you now. Y-you were with us in the Castle... near the end. How are you even… HERE!??”

“Surprised? Formerly Queen’s head butler, yes. But I have other commitments now.”

“Please, let’s go sit down somewhere and talk it out! I think there’s been a huge misunderstanding. I come in peace and joy! I saw your castle in the distance and came to warn you. You see, if there are two Fountains, then – “

“You’re free to sit from your current place, no? And we are talking right now, are we not? I recall seeing your face at Queen’s Castle too, not too long ago, before it all began to decay and wither away. In a quite obvious way, I do have a feather to split with you and no, there is no misunderstanding. You did not come here bearing gifts. You came here for conquest.”

“No no, you have it wrong. We go around restoring the balance between Light and Dark – “

“We? Oh, I see. This ‘Susie’ and ‘Kris’ are the ones you’re referring to. They’ve been terrorizing my Lord in the Lightner’s world, from our reports. An organized effort.”

“It’s for peace! Swatch, don’t you know how these Dark Fountains work? And – wait where did it go? The Fountain was right there behind us in that… cage. Oh no, where am I?”

“I’ve seen what your peace looks like. We aren’t easily fooled, here at Stormcrow Manor, imbecilic prince. We know what ill-devised synonyms for genocide and invasion are. And you better had prepared a good reason for coming here. I’m sure Lord Berdly has something to say.”

Berdly, who had barely spoken, actually had no idea what to say. Ralsei looked exactly like he did when Berdly last saw him in Cyber World. Disorienting the ambience of the room was that same nostalgic looking goat, though it was inaccurate to use the word nostalgic as it had happened less than a week ago, and Berdly had just become drunk with new projects that made the time between then and now seem all the more inaccurately distant. Like a spring pulled back, it was all coming back together at a breakneck speed.

The design of the house sprung into action to comfort him. Those Oxford-style, dark, mahogany walls, and the deep navy drapes that ran across the ornate ceiling… they were aesthetically soothing, and distinctly historic, detached from the exhaustive expectations of technology. They kept the rooms silent from the chatter, no constant lights that were up in your face, and certainly no reminders of either the regular world or the other Dark World. It was Berdly’s own dazzling display of artfulness. Like a Fountain pen with no ink, it was a favourite thing to posses, not because of its potential to be maximized for utility or profit, but because it was simply beautiful.

          “Why do you keep carrying that huge thing around, son? Use the pens I bought you.”

          “It’s nice to look at, that’s all.”

          “It doesn’t even work.”

Stormcrow Manor was not the hospital office or his house on 55 Mulberry Lane. He was the Lord, here – the aesthete to his father’s utilitarian, the Athenian to his Spartan, the Victorian to his modern. This was a fun home. Not a funeral home. And in a moment of weakness, Berdly had forgotten to remind himself that upon every visit to the manor, he made one singular promise to himself and that was to repeat to himself that this was in fact, a fantasy and not his actual home.

          “Well, I don’t really see the point of building a whole med bay then.”

          “No, no, we can do it. And it has to look just like the regular hospital. You see, it’s been optimized for best patient care and –“

          “Doesn’t look like it would match anything we’ve built so far.”

Slowly, Berdly counted the beats of his soul against the minute. It was still his father’s trick, yes, but it worked. And slowly, the world began to move again and Ralsei was no longer a threat. The room glowed with Dark. Its dimness was a comfort. Not a florescent light anywhere.

“Berdly?”

He let out a deep breath. You still have to get back to the Lightner’s world before lunch ends.

“Berdly… we can still get out of here if put our heads together –“

“How did you come here? Was it from the Lightner’s world?”

“Erm, no. I came from Castle Town, that’s where I live. Uhm, I guess an example would make more sense. You see, I wasn’t living in the Cyber World. I have a magic door that allows me to go to places nearby. That’s how I showed up in Lancer’s World, and in Cyber World. It’s this big ornate gate, and its magic, it – “

“Wait, Ralsei. Does that mean you can do healing magic too?”

“Yes.”

“I know someone in the Lightner’s world. He’s sick with a disease that just keeps spreading. It’s not an infection. And, if I can just bring him here and you can heal him, and then we bring him back – “

“Oh, Berdly… are you hurt?! You’re wincing…”

Berdly sat up straight and tightened the arm wrapped around his chest. “No, I’m not talking about me. Don’t mind that. Just answer the question I asked you.”

“Berdly, I can’t heal everything. Coughs, scratches, fatigue… but not broken parts, major sickness, or… diseases like the one you described. We have them in the Dark World too, Berdly. It’s not going to work if you tried to cure someone here. Magic can’t do everything.”

“…”

“Berdly, look…”

“So, the plan was not going to work from the start. Huh.” Berdly clenched his beak in frustration.

“Was that all you came for? Wait… your plan? No, are you sure Swatch isn’t holding you here to make you carry out his plan?”

“I knew it couldn’t be that simple. I guess it was never going to work, principally. I always kind of suspected that was the case. I- I don’t know why I still kept coming back here regardless…”

Ralsei saw the way Berdly’s face soured at the revelation that he was wrong. He supposed that from the few times he saw Berdly in the Cyber World, he couldn’t really get to know him that well. Ralsei assumed that Berdly would become angry or try to deny that he could be wrong about magic but to his surprise, Berdly accepted it almost immediately and that’s when it hit him: the dark patches beneath eyes, the laboured breathing, and the tired gaze. Maybe Berdly really had attempted to devise a plan to save a person in the Lightner’s world with Dark World magic. However, Berdly looked distinctly worse than the last time Ralsei saw him. It wouldn’t be out of the question that Berdly needed healing, himself.

“You know, Berdly… I once had the idea too. I thought Lightner technology could be used to help some Darkners, but that was a long time ago, when our magic was not as advanced either. But you see, these things evolve at the same pace because everything in the Darkner’s World, I’ve come to find, has something that is its spiritual equivalent. You don’t gain without losing something. Two Dark Fountains will tip the balance between Light and Dark, and it will be devastation when it happens. We need to work together and – “

Berdly just held himself tighter, one hand clutching his chest firmly and unrelenting. Swatch left Ralsei in the birdcage to join Berdly at his side, like an independently moving shadow, dark and looming. Ralsei hesitated. He couldn’t speak to Berdly alone and he had no idea what threats Swatch must have been telling him to get him to stay here so obediently. Ralsei was the one in the cage, but Berdly was not. Presumably, his cage was psychological! That’s it!

“Listen, Berdly. I know you’re disappointed. I can see that you’re probably suffering some injury, and you’re scared. But… we have to work together! The Fountain in Castle Town has been going crazy out of control a-and I see that the one here has been facing the same issue, with that safeguard in place and all. Speaking of that, actually, where is it? The Fountain, I mean.”

Swatch raised a wing over Berdly’s head and in the shadow of that massive cape, Ralsei saw it: the wild, crackling glow of a Fountain in the purest shade of white, as all Fountains were from the Dark World’s side of things. It was coming from Berdly’s chest, of all places. Ralsei could feel the bile rising in his stomach but fought hard to press it down.

“What did he do to you…?”

“Here to finish him off, are you?” Swatch interrupted. “To close that Fountain, you’ll either have to make your way through that,” he gestured to the centre of the stage where suddenly, the sharp metal bars were beginning to accelerate, rotating around like a complex motor. “Or,” he said, with a sinister tune. “You’ll have to strike him through his soul while it is out. But don’t worry, my Lord.” He leaned in close and brushed a hand over Berdly’s head before speaking quietly. “Our manor’s defenses are top notch. I guarantee it.”

Berdly shivered.

“No!” Ralsei exclaimed. “Snap out of it, Berdly! He’s manipulating you! That Fountain in your soul is going to keep expanding until it eventually kills you. Please, the fate of both our worlds is at stake and no one can shut down that Fountain except for you! I know you did what you had to in order to survive, and I’m sorry I didn’t realize it earlier! But if you close that Fountain soon, I promise you’ll never have to see that man ever again.”

“What…?” The room fell silent as Berdly’s breathing began to quicken. “No. Swatch saved my life.”

“That’s what he’s tricked you into believing – “

“No. Swatch – he saved my life.”

Now it was Ralsei’s turn to be confused. “From what?”

That was when Berdly began to lose composure. The quiet hiccups travelled across the room no matter how hard Berdly tried to stay quiet. They were involuntary, and beyond his control. Crying only reminded him of what it felt like to have water melt and drip down his face. He warmth of the room only felt that way if your body temperature was colder than the atmosphere. Suddenly, there was frost melting down his face that Berdly didn’t recall being there when he came. It burned at his eyes and matted the feathers of his face.

“You left me behind… all of you!” He choked. “I really t-thought I was going to die. I c-couldn’t breathe. And I – “ Berdly winced as he felt the Fountain’s energy twist at the fibres of his soul. “I was awake during it all. It must have been h-hours…”

Berdly curled himself around the arm tucked harshly across his front, trembling. Swatch leaned over and put a giant wing around him, shrouding him from Ralsei, who fell silent as the realization began to dawn on him. Swatch smiled.

“And yet, you emerged victorious in the end. Isn’t that right, my Lord?”

My Lord this, my Lord that. Ralsei didn’t need his glasses to recognize that there was a golden something adorning the top of his head. No doubt, Ralsei thought, Berdly thinks that he is the one in control here.

“One word,” Swatch said softly. “And it’s done. Should we get rid of him?” He glared right at Ralsei from across the room, though Berdly wouldn’t know.

The world around him was racing once more and the familiarity of a looming dark tent over him only encouraged his maddening descent as he recalled the moments leading up to the strike that set down the Fountain – an irreversible, life changing, and split-second decision.

“I didn’t have a choice,” Berdly said to no one in particular. “I didn’t actually think I’d lose.”

The pain coursing up and down his spine was almost unbearable in moments like these. Ralsei was probably right: the Fountain’s power was growing each and every day and Berdly could feel something wrong in the way his body reacted. The constant fatigue, and paradoxically, the inability to sleep. He was in a constant pursuit of either: being awake or being asleep, and instead, he found himself at a constant limbo. Stuck between two states.

“I’m exhausted,” he said to Swatch beneath the wing. “What did you say?”

“I said we can get rid of him now, if you’d like.”

“No.”

“What?”

“H-he looks so cramped in there.” Berdly moved Swatch’s wing aside just a little to get a better look at Ralsei. “Let him out. H-he can barely move.”

“You want me to let him out?”

“Our manor’s Fountain safeguards are top notch, right?”

Ralsei looked one moment at Berdly and one moment at Swatch when it hit him. Berdly was really just a child. And frankly, Ralsei didn’t blame him. If he had been a child, left behind in a crumbling Dark World all by himself, with nowhere to go. Swatch’s claims to genocide were not entirely wrong, Ralsei felt. It was somewhat wrong to expect a person to just leave their home after an invasion and expect them to come willingly to theirs. But how were they supposed to restore the balance between Light and Dark, then? It was downright impossible to do both. The destruction of one Dark World was better than the destruction of everyone’s world. What did Swatch not understand?

“Pretend he is one of the residents… he can use my room if we don’t have any spares. Just take out all the books. Give him a dictionary to read or something.”

“Then where will you be staying?”

Ralsei tried to reason with him one more time. “Berdly… please. If what Swatch says is true and that Fountain has really been set on your soul then…”

Then what? Ralsei knew that unless he could somehow transfer it onto something else and destroy that, which Ralsei had no mechanistic idea for how, then he was effectively asking Berdly to kill hims– no. Ralsei didn’t want to think about it.

“Berdly… it was an honest mistake. Things were so crazy leading up to the end, we all just kind of forgot.”

“…”

“Anyone would have too, if they were in our place.” The half-concocted apology sounded a lot better in Ralsei’s head. “We didn’t mean to abandon you. I promise, Kris and Susie would never do that intentionally. I know them well.”

“… and Noelle?”

“Well, honestly, I only saw her for like a few minutes. But she was with Kris, right? Kris is nice! Go back to the Lightner’s World and tell Kris and Susie that we’re friends now. They’ll help you come up with a solution. I know it!”

“Hmm, you did say you were on your lunch break.” Swatch took Berdly’s half-prodded slice of pie and handed it over to a servant who promptly took it away. “We wouldn’t want you to be late now, do we?” He handed a pearlescent napkin to Berdly so he could wipe his face.

“You’re really not going to make a big deal about me leaving? Aren’t you always the one bothering me about staying?”

“Oh no, my Lord. I trust you to make the right decisions. I merely suggest to you the options.” Swatch helped him up and beckoned him over across the room, just passing by Ralsei, who Berdly avoided eye contact with. “Work assured, my Lord. We will give him a proper room and some nourishments to keep him well. You tend to your duties in the Lightner’s World.”

“Y-you’re right,” Berdly said as he puffed out his chest and made his way to the front of the room. “I have work to do. This is such a minor trifle. Nothing that could even slightly bother me. Not one bit –“

“Besides,” Swatch said softly. “I know you’ll be back soon.”

Berdly got up on the stage and waited for the metal bars to stop rotating before stepping in. Ralsei watched as he put a single finger to the centre of his chest and when he gestured outwards, the brightness of the Fountain began to expand wildly within the confines to fill the entire chamber.

Lunch break ended almost two hours ago. The school day was nearly done and Berdly woke up at his desk with a sinking feeling as almost a dozen eyes were aimed right at him.

“Oh, Berdly. Ummm, you looked unwell, so I just let you rest but just, please get some proper sleep over the weekend.”

“O-of course, Ms. Alphys.” Berdly caught wind of slight murmuring happening around the classroom and fought down his embarrassment. No doubt, they were talking about him.

Strangely, when Berdly looked over to meet MK’s gaze and ask what the homework of the day was, MK quickly averted his gaze and pretended to not see him. Temmie, who sat right net to Berdly, did the same. Thinking back to that morning, Berdly realized that the whole class had really not talked to him since yesterday. He had been so caught up with his now-ruined sick-curing med bay plans that it really slipped by him that something was wrong.

The walk to his locker was nerve-wreaking. Kids from other grades were also staring at him as he went down the halls and in between whispers, Berdly could hear the phrases ‘is that true?’ and ‘be careful’ being passed by him. What they were referring to, Berdly had no clue.

“Hey Jockington, did Ms. Alphys say when the tryouts will be next week?”

“Erm – ask someone else my dude…”

“You don’t know? Didn’t you also sign up yesterday? No… don’t tell me you forgot already. How on earth are you supposed to memorize the words if you can’t even memorize the day when tryouts are happening…”

“Hey man, I gotta go –“

“You know, with Noelle at home, I SUPPOSE I have time to spare to study with you at the library. You could help me turn the pages or something. And I’ll help you get ready for…”

“He said no, Berdly.” Catti interrupted rudely and whisked Jockington away, leaving Berdly dumbfounded. Biting down on his beak, Berdly took out his phone and was about to check which shifts he was on for when it hit him for the seventh time that week that he didn’t have those anymore. Noelle still hadn’t replied to him, and now, just a single notification was on the screen.

>>> Working late again. Dinner is in the fridge.

>>> Or eat at the diner with your friends or something. It’s Friday.

Time stood still for him as he pretended to be preoccupied by his locker, staring blankly into the screen of his phone as the chatter of the hall kept mentioning his name in indiscernible phrases, just out of earshot.

It’s an intimidation tactic. They know none of them will beat me in the Spelling Bee, that must be it. I’ll show them next week. I’m still at the top of my game.

The hallway cleared out as everyone paired off or joined their groups for afterschool clubs. With no bystanders around to wait for him, Berdly reached into the bottom of his backpack and felt around for a small bottle. In the past, he may have hesitated, but exhausted from the performances he kept up throughout the day, Berdly thoughtlessly pressed one into the palm of his hand and made sure to stop by water fountain on his way out of the building.

It would take effect by the time he walked back home. He knew that already.

Swatch and Ralsei waited for the Fountain to stabilize within its cage before moving a muscle. Swatch reached over and waved an arm over the top of Ralsei’s cage. The structure fell apart easily and thumped onto the ground with a resounding patter, as once-metal bars became soft paper.

“Little prince… I suppose you can be our new table cleaner or something. I of course, would have preferred to put you in a dungeon or something but orders are orders. I am to treat you like a resident. Ugh.”

“Swatch, listen. You have to let me close that Fountain. If both stay up for any longer, they’re going to destroy everything!”

“Nonsense. You didn’t think we were unaware of the fact, were we? We had safeguards surrounding our Fountain long before you arrived with your warning and believe me, we have a strategy prepared, unlike you. You said you had associates in the Lightner’s world who know of your Fountain? We’ll simply wait for the situation to become so dire that they have no choice but to shut down yours!”

Ralsei’s jaw dropped.

“Our manor’s council has already discussed this strategy at length with our Young Master. He is well aware, so you rest assured and go on with your life here. Besides,” he leaned in. “Is that what you expect of everyone else? Destroy their world and request for them to happily be integrated into yours, and under your rule no less? Dumb prince. How does that feel now?”

“Do you know how many Darkeners will die?”

“Oh, I absolutely do.” Swatch just scowled. “Do you?”

Ralsei looked down awkwardly. In truth… that was exactly what the cost of restoring balance was. Ralsei had just never been on the side that had to give something up.

“I have no intention of harming Berdly. I did in fact save his life and in return, he has restored to me the position I held in my original world. I just wished he would rise into his role as well. He is deserving of it.” Swatch helped Ralsei off the table and looked to the Fountain with great satisfaction. “It’s perfect, no? I was there when it was made. That’s my Lord’s work.”

Ralsei didn’t have much to say about that.

“Now, we just have to see who will hold out for longer.”

“And if he can’t?”

Swatch pushed up his glasses and recalled the vast amounts of books he had been reading behind Berdly’s unknowing back. Memories of failed personal endeavours, old feelings of incompetence mixed with the never-ending urge to try again. Swatch saw all the memories of those late nights at the library, reading books on Lightner language and the aggressive force by which he memorized the scripture containing every word known to their world. In similar fashion, Swatch sought to every book he could get his hands on, every memory that shed a piece of his patron onto his gaze so that he could catch up on years’ worth of past that they had not shared. In many ways, Swatch and Berdly were not too different. Both knew the price of a high stature, and the constant upkeep that it required to maintain. Both knew the way time could crawl so painstakingly slow, and both had something dear to lose. Swatch managed a castle staff of hundreds before becoming Berdly’s Butler. Berdly had juggled two jobs, his studies, and several academic clubs before becoming their Manor’s rightful Lord. This wasn’t the work of a smart person who knew how to prioritize their time. This was the work of an intellectual brute.

How could you say he looks sickly, Ralsei? I turned a dying boy into a proper Lord and when I’m done, he’ll be a Legend. A proper King.

“Believe me,” Swatch said as he recalled each and every time that Berdly argued with him, a test to see the limits of what he will withstand before backing down, and the furthest he’ll bend for a compromise without succumbing to it. He recalled with pride the way Berdly grew to resist his efforts with greater fervor, accepted the ache of his malady with less complaint, and held his head high when Swatch loomed over him. A moment of weakness from Berdly didn’t scare him anymore because now, there was little left in the way of their own conquest. “He will outlast your friends.”

Chapter Text

The day begins with a stagnant pause of breath against the pillow. A careful briefing of the senses tells the object lying there that it is a human body and it is to wake up when the sun hits the side of its face. Time draws out to several minutes before the morning haze dissipates, leaving the human completely unsure of what to do with itself. It is Saturday. There is no school, and nothing on the schedule. Numb with the lack of breakfast in their stomach, it waits some more. For what, it is not sure, but it feels impossible to move a muscle.

Susie is busy today. She’s hanging out with Noelle apparently.

Good for you. I didn’t know you guys were a pair now.

The morning leaves a bitter taste in the mouth. This is when the vertigo of early-waking becomes replaced by the cognitive filters, turning present into past, and ‘wake up’ into ‘woken up’. Nearby, an invasive type of canary sits in its cage atop a wagon. Its chirps are never made audible, but the human hears them anyway, from everywhere.

“And what is brushing your teeth more than just a series of small objectives? Get up from bed, walk to the bathroom door, pick up the brush, fill the cup with water, and all that.” The canary sang from its corner. “You can barely do the first.”

In rapid succession, the senses began to collide. ‘It’ became ‘they’. They were a human; a specific subtype of human called a Kris. And then, everything settled into place, apart from one thing. Kris rummaged the lock of the cage and reached a hand past the door.

“It seems after all I couldn't be anything more than a simple puppet,” Kris remembered being told by a strange person from their last adventure, which was arguably a disaster since it created more problems than it solved. “But you three... You're strong. With a power like that... Maybe you three can break your own strings. Let me become your strength.”

Whatever Kris felt now, it certainly wasn’t strong. It felt like all of an atlas cloud had settled over the room, muffling all sensations, and increasing the gravity of the world by tenfold. It was difficult to walk, to study, to do anything without the benefit of having otherworldly assistance. And talking to Toriel wasn’t going to help. She was a part of some new-age cultural movement obsessed with explaining everything by the logic of glands and chemicals, which were then also functions of how much sunlight one got, or how many ‘meditation moments’ one devoted their time to. The Spelling Bee tryouts were soon, and Kris couldn’t actually go on without the canary’s help anymore now that their path had solidified along the current trajectory – the canary’s chosen flight path. In a more reassuring line of thought, the canary was probably the only one right now who could understand why Kris needed the assistance.

“You don’t actually plan on studying for the Spelling Bee, do you?” The canary suggested it as Kris’s hand hesitated over the object. They knew what they were doing had dubious implications, and its consequences were tangible and lasting. At the same time, this was the best option available. Sometimes, it felt like the only option available.

And Kris recalled that Asriel was like that too, as in, he was an early waker and non-stop conversationalist as well. However, he was unlike the canary in many ways. He was a good conversationalist, and genuinely not a bad person to be around. He was planning on coming back at the end of the week but with it, Kris knew, came the possibility that the specific version that they grew to know had gone. The canary in the cage had changed too in just a matter of days but Kris also knew that without it, there was nothing else to talk to. Kris missed having someone like that around constantly. But it certainly wasn’t anything like this. Plus, Asriel would have helped Kris study for the Spelling Bee the proper way: by the books.

What does Berdly do all day when he’s home alone?

Whatever it was, it wasn’t of Kris’s concern. They had no intention of sizing out the competition, given the amount of work it required and the fact that a much easier solution existed that could solve that issue of competition immediately. Kris readied their heavy, tired arms for the sensation that was about to follow.

My life has only gotten better since. This is worth it. I could stop if I wanted to.

Kris cupped the canary in their hands.

I am choosing this. Therefore, I could stop if I wanted to.

Pressing it into their chest, Kris squeezed their eyes shut and stumbled backwards in recoil as it did the rest of the integration on its own. Kris gasped for air and felt the liveliness rush back throughout their body. The world stopped spinning and soon, all that was left was the familiar sensation of energy coursing through their arms. A tendon pulled here, a spine straightened there, and a faint rustle of hair as a fleshy hand swept those choppy bangs back into their regular shape before Kris could even realize that they were moving on its own.

“Good choice,” the scarlet side of Kris’s temperament now spoke. “I’ll take it from here.”

Meanwhile, Berdly was jamming to the music from a mobile game. Why? Because the biggest battles required boss music and Berdly having a bit of a hard time studying without Noelle around to keep him company at the library, which he no longer went to anymore. She was too busy hanging out with her new texting buddy Susie, apparently. Good for those two, he supposed bitterly.

          Lost in space! Above, all drifting…

          To a place! Where planets shifting…

Having exhausted his top choices of videogame OSTs, Berdly let whatever was left on his phone play on its own – some ancient playlist he discovered through some game that Kris, of all people, had shown to him. A thick book on etymology sat on his desk as he traced back the history of all the words, he planned to study for the Spelling Bee. It was a secret strategy that he and Noelle developed, one that was rare to find used by anyone else these days.

Berdly’s philosophy was that it was harder to forget things once you get to know them a bit more.

It was strange, how each thing that occurred in present day could always be traced back to something seemingly inconsequential in the past. Two years ago, Berdly remembered sitting next to Noelle at lunch while she was borrowing his phone charger and like some cankerous wart, Kris was there too, eating her crackers because the sandwich Toriel packed them was soggy from the condensation of their lunch bag. Of course, this was year where Tap Tap Golf Course and Grocery Bag Simulator came out from competing game studios at the same time, both right after the announcement of their larger releases so everyone was looking for hidden information in the games, for which there were ultimately nothing. (Mobile games were money-grabbing and disappointing like that). Kris was one of those people who was around for that strange phenomenon and picked up some random other app store releases including some lazy text-based game.

          Ladies and gentlemen.

          Today is a day for mourning and remembering

Berdly groaned silently. This is that weird song that started with a depressing presidential speech by Ronald Reagan for some reason. Breaking away from his study desk, Berdly reached over to press ‘Skip’.

          They had a hunger to explore the universe and discover its truths

          And they had that special grace, that special spirit that says

          "Give me a challenge, and I'll meet it with joy"

Kris had showed him a game where you pretended to be texting a stranded astronaut and through a series of button-click choices, you got to pick how their story ended. Berdly didn’t quite understand the appeal of that kind of gaming mechanism until one parent teacher interview night, Berdly picked the game out of boredom, sitting around his home while everyone was too busy to be online. The game was the easiest thing to replicate by code – even an amateur at Python could make a long list of ‘if’ and ‘elif’ statements. It didn’t even have its own soundtrack. Just a makeshift playlist titled simply:

“Lonely Astronaut Songs”

Of course, they were all astronaut themed: space-like and otherworldly in nature. Berdly now knew what otherworldly could really look like. Regardless, he brushed the thought aside, given how much work there was to do in the Lightner’s world today. Sitting back down in his desk chair, pen in hand and floor cleared of every debris, he began the ritual of the study. It was Berdly’s personal rehearsal night, and he had not a second to spare if he was going to attempt to study all the words in the dictionary, without Noelle’s help this year.

He and the music were going to be spending a long day together.

Kris got the early-morning-Toriel to watch TV , which meant that left her bag was now left unattended in the back of the living room. Stealing wasn’t beneath Kris. Besides, they planned to return the keys anyway once they were finished at the school.

* Check on Ralsei.

Kris frankly didn’t care, but whatever. Call it premonition or divine interference but the red soul, the ‘canary in the cage’ always had the right instincts.

That’s not true. We went overboard last time. I didn’t think that was a good idea.

The school halls were unnaturally dim, even without the presence of an actual unnatural wonder sucking up all the fluorescence from across the ceiling. Regardless, Kris was only here for one quick errand. Stepping foot into the Dark World was an action that became etched deep within Kris’s muscle memory after just a week. Kris opened the closet door and walked all the way back to end of the hall before bracing for a run.

No, wait.

* Bolt.

Kris felt their ankles flex and soon the electric current spread up to their torso and they were sprinting across the length of the school, heart racing with every laborious lurch forward. It wasn’t often that a human could feel the beat of their own heart through their sternum, but it wasn’t impossible, either.

[Press X] [Press X] [Press X] [Press X] [Press X] [Press X]

Kris felt incredibly alive. The unwaxed floors of the school gripped the bottom of their shoes like rubber against rubber, pushing back as Kris dug the front of each step into the ground with the intensity of someone who couldn’t feel the physical pain they were requesting. This wasn’t a dream – you couldn’t run so fast in a dream without your head falling backwards and slowing you down.

And with a kick of the air, Kris leapt into the closet, mentally keeping track of the precise moment when gravity took its leave and Kris spiraled down into the abyss, paradoxically floating according to every known human sensation of fall-versus-rise. The body became weightless. Light energy became heat energy, then kinetic, and something else entirely – a thermodynamic principle that existed nowhere else, but here.

Kris shut their eyes as the overgrowing Fountain tingled the surface of their skin, turning its earthiness to something blue, profoundly magical.

Berdly’s mind was elsewhere.

In his defense, it was already late afternoon and also the time when Berdly normally became sidetracked from his studying to go eat lunch if it were a school day. However, for the greater part of last week, Berdly had been spending most of the school days in some in-between state of passively listening to class while dreaming of other foreign places.

          I was terribly lost when the galaxies crossed

          And the sun went dark

Having eaten nothing since last night, Berdly could feel the tips of his wings grow slightly cold with glucose deficiency. Berdly spread his arms out to either side of him and tried to estimate what his wingspan was now, like how some measured the progress of their hair growth or the size of their pencils as the school year progressed from season to season. It was impossible to measure one’s own wingspan with a ruler because mechanistically, that just didn’t work out well, and he hated using the tape measurer because he’s always had this gnawing fear that one end of the tape would become loose and suddenly lasso itself towards him like some tropical, sharp-fanged snake.

Upon inspection, one of Berdly’s distal joints extended slightly different than the other, not in any way that you could identify by just looking at one wing, but when you compared them side by side, it was subtly noticeable that Berdly had broken something in the past. His father, who had been the one to put his arm in a cast, had predicted that something like that would happen and forbid him from trying such a foolish stunt again. It didn’t stop him, of course. He had attempted it again nearly a dozen more times since then, with Swatch’s help. Somehow, Swatch was always the one rescuing him and Berdly had no idea what Swatch wanted in return.

His allegiance, perhaps – his bidding.

          “Jump down and figure it out on the way down,” Swatch said with mocked indignation. “Fear of death makes the mind work faster.”

          “Uh, NO!?? I’ll need an academic source on that.”

          “It’s a figure of speech. Besides, you won’t fall on my watch. I’ll be right behind you.”

          “Is that a figure of speech too?”

          “No, my Lord. What good is it to me if you died?”

The contrails left in wake of flight were a beautiful thing: frosted air made visible by some magic principle that real-world physics wouldn’t allow. By some ethereal material, one could see the paths they made in the air and wave them away as soon as they came. It was an expensive drawing tool, and the world was their paint program. Swatch could wave a arm and new rooms became lush navy blue or royal purple as Berdly requested, with no time spent waiting for paint to dry.

          “You should practice at least a little bit of Swatchling magic. All Kings should have some prowess for fighting. It will make you stronger.”

          “For what? To fight people? Umm, no thanks. There’s no one to fight around here and I’m planning to keep it that way."

          “It's for defending the manor. One day, you might have to."

          “..."

          “Where’s your weapon? I haven’t seen you take it out since – ”

          “No. Leave me alone. I’m not going to do that again, ever!”

          "Ever?" Swatch stared at him unwavering in his convictions. "I just think that you're not taking advantage of the fact that you have an expert on the subject standing right here."

          "Tsk. An expert in your field..."

          “That's right. I can teach you anything you want, anything at all."

          “Do you even have time for all that? Don't you have so much work to do or whatever?"

          "When you're here," Swatch smiled. "I have all the time in the world."

A pile of thesauruses and dictionaries lay abandoned on top of Berdly’s desk as he swung around in his room, preoccupied with memories of cool air tricks. He could just barely begin to feel the resistance of the heavy atmosphere as it was buffeted by the push of feathered cloak on air, and air back onto him. What was that thing he had written for Toriel’s remedial essay all those years ago?

‘Soft as whisper, I glide over the ground I walk’? What utter nonsense.

Gooey, sickly sweet garbage prose.

Berdly shook the feathers of his head and smoothed them back into place. He had work to do, what on Earth was he doing, dozing off into daydreams like that? That’s when a thunderclap of internal pain swept over him, and Berdly doubled over grasping at his chest. He was a veteran of that ache. It had happened a few times mid-flight when he and Swatch were flying around the open chambers of the manor. He had nearly crashed down to the floor if it weren’t for Swatch, who was there to catch him.

          “You’re my servant, not my doctor.”

          “Then perhaps we should bring one over,” Swatch said sternly. “Was that not the inevitable plan for your medical bay idea?”

          “Nghgh…” Berdly gasped. “Ralsei said it would never work. Forget it – didn’t I tell you to stop bringing it up!?”

          “But you were right, we lack any care facilities. Do you know a Lightner who is a medical doctor?”

          “N-no. No, I don’t.”

          “But my Lord, I thought you said – “

Berdly shook off the pain and sought out his new quick remedy when it became too much to handle. Analgesic, Berdly knew, was an adjective. Nine letters to mean ‘pain relieving’, and although Berdly had no idea what its etymology was, he now had a personal connection to the word and so, it was one that he didn’t need to study. Ralsei’s warning also stuck with him in a similar way, a cancerous wart in his memory that wouldn’t go away without some careful cutting that he knew he wasn’t willing to do.

Berdly didn’t think that Swatch was manipulating him, by virtue of how much he had helped him. One gnawing fear did nag at him from the back of his mind however: for all the effort that Swatch put into teaching him how to be King, Berdly was only feeling more fatigued and not like the person he wanted to be. Eventually, Ralsei had to be right, he would collapse from exhaustion. And then… well…

Wouldn’t that leave Swatch as King?

That wretched study music kept playing from his phone on his desk, compounding onto to his headache. It was also a constant reminder that he had no time to waste with small trifles like that because this was his Spelling Bee preparation weekend. Besides, Swatch was just there to take care of him and the manor. What motivation did he have for betraying him while Berdly was not there? Swatch was just at work. Sure, he was distant at times, but Berdly knew that deep down, he must have genuinely cared about him: his health, his future, and his wellbeing.

He let the music play, promising to himself that he’d come back to studying in just a second. Putting a hand to his chest, Berdly counted and waited until the beats came down to their resting rate. It always worked to calm him down.

          It split like a cell

          And man cannot tell

          The lie from parallel

Kris had landed in the Dark World.

The laws of physics perturbed and distorted to match. Rough cotton hems of their sweater became sleek and black, the silver breastplate fused itself around their front like a second ribcage, and a feathered cape now swung down their back, cut short and snapping in the phantom wind as the transformation of a lifetime cut its ends short. It was even shorter now that the Fountain was losing its poise and control and growing wildly long and unkept with by the disruptive “neighbours” nearby.

The rest of the experience, however, was just as Kris remembered: cool, snazzy, and stylish. The smooth sensation of cold Fountain energy felt like an inverted lamp: it sucked the light from your skin and cooled you instead of giving you a burn. But looking down, Kris saw some faint streaks of dark across their skin, and remnants of ash.

It’s starting to hurt to come back here. I felt it this time.

“Because the Fountain is growing wild. The other one needs to be dealt with, soon.”

Kris put on foot in front of another and walked towards the castle.

* Search for Ralsei

“Ralsei, I’m back! Tell me what you found over there.”

Kris groan in frustration, eyeing around the dojo and various cutesy-looking cafes that no doubt, Ralsei had taken part in constructing. “Ralsei… are you around here?”

Their stomach dropped as they saw regular citizens running around in panic, turning over every bench, unlocking every door. Kris didn’t need instruction to race forward and seek out the first person they saw. Grabbing onto the hem of their shirt, Kris barked at them.

“Where’s Ralsei!? Has anyone seen him!?”

“T-toothpaste boy?” Lancer stumbled, still in a fit of panic-induced adrenaline. “No, me and my kingdom-people have been looking for him all day!”

“…”

“Oooh, are you here to help us look!?”

“Did Ralsei say anything before he left?”

Lancer twisted his face and just frowned sadly. One stubby juvenile hand pointed to something in the distance and that’s when Kris saw it, the crack of white like a fabric tear in the backdrop of the world, flickering in and out with no permanent set location. It cracked down like lightning down to the ground, disappearing the next and showing up with increased intensity the next, approaching them slowly but inevitably. Kris could feel the crackling of the second Fountain snap and rumble through the atmosphere: a dry storm but without the clouds, the rain, or the metallic smell. The pull of its gravity could be felt all around Castle Town as the two competing pillars of dense mass edged closer to one another every day, aggravating the electrolytes in the air and stirring them around with an unyielding velocity.

Wind and electricity. There’s no doubt about it… this is Berdly’s Fountain.

“Send a search party,” Kris ordered to anyone around them who was listening. The air was ripped out of their lungs as the words began to choose themselves. “I don’t care how dangerous it is! Check every surrounding area to see if Ralsei’s out there and bring him back!"

Berdly tucked his wings behind him while loosely pacing around the room. The vertigo of a late night began to set in and fill his senses with a strange renewal of bravery – the kind that allowed a normally reserved person to start enjoying random music they’ve never listened to before and agree to go out for late-night runs for snacks at the convenience store. Of course, Berdly, being someone who didn’t leave the house unless it was for school or work, had never done any of these things but he liked to daydream what being in college would be like and to him, those were the things that he would like to do. Closing his eyes to feel the moisture sting the dryness of his eyelids, Berdly stepped around aimlessly, and allowed the phantom scent of the Café Scientifique to fill the room of his imagination: the dark wooden boards of Oxford-style walls, the air he’d breathe in as he would walk down navy halls with a teacup in hand, freshly brewed. Around him, those lonely astronaut songs continued playing on a never-ending loop, echoing down the halls of his mind palace.

          I am the stuff of happy endings

          Though mostly bluff, belief suspending

The words of the dictionary seemed to peel off the pages as Berdly recalled them floating around his mind. He put himself on the stage, mentally, and tried to see if he could recall the words correctly. Unlike the first time he competed in one of these, Berdly knew that there was a certain craft involved with the memorization of words. Etymology was a beautiful science, even though it technically wasn’t really a science. He pretended to be explaining it to someone. He was the lecturer, and someone was around to be the listener.

“You see Noelle, there’s a bunch of random words that start with the ‘prefix’ heli- like from helicopter but that’s actually wrong. The correct separation of the words is helico- as in revolving circularly around a point.”

Berdly remembered being broken out of the ice.

“And the suffix. -Pter. It means wing.”

Swatch had saved him. He was his greatest ally. He always was.

“Like pterodactyl.”

He had no idea if he and Noelle would be going to the same college one day. Part of Berdly was worried that he wasn’t going to make it into the same schools that Noelle aspired to.

          Well, she's the faith and I'm the devil

          Who keeps the pace and clears the rubble.

Berdly laid a head down against the floor and let the dizziness of his wander clear from his head, which was like slush at this late hour past midnight. He gulped and shook the feathers on his head some more.

“But the reason why people think the prefix heli- makes sense is because they don’t know anything! They don’t know what a prefix or suffix or, or – the meaning of the words either. This was all the way back when they didn’t have school for everybody or something, so they just did whatever they wanted and…”

          It’s like I'm not even there.

          Gone, but I don't know where.

The rest of Aimee Mann’s song droned into head, lulling him into an early sleep. Berdly could feel his feet carrying him in lazy circles around the room, pacing like he liked to do down those beautiful manor halls. Berdly knew that if she were actually here, this would be so much easier. Hell, if Swatch were here to help him study, things would be easier too. He had helped him look for books on magic healing several days ago. Of course, that plan was a dud, and there was technically no reason to go back, but Berdly still wanted to.

“So that’s why words like helipad are technically spelled wrong.” Berdly murmured to himself, feeling the weight of the late evening press his eyelids shut. “It should be helicopad or something.”

Technically, Swatch couldn’t come here. But Berdly could always go to him.

Kris eventually had to leave the Dark World. The search for Ralsei was unfruitful and everyone was too exhausted to keep looking. Without Ralsei’s magic, none of them could just go places like he could and how Ralsei managed to get himself trapped in some foreign land was beyond Kris. They walked home loathing the reaction that their mom was going to have. It was nearing midnight. The chill of evening breeze raised the skin on their arms. It set the scene almost exactly how Kris remembered it: Late nights and traffic lights, sidewalks between dark buildings, and meeting Berdly in that alley.

That idiot… why didn’t he run like the coward he normally is?

That wouldn’t nearly have been interesting. That would’ve meant that there would only be one Berdly fight in that whole run.

What the honest hell are you even talking about…

The night was cold. As much as Kris liked to blame Berdly for all this trouble that everyone was in now, he was possibly one of the victims here and Kris had to admit that whether they liked it or not. Even if Kris technically wasn’t the one who gave the orders, they decided whether the order-giver was allowed to give them. It was a complicated exchange. Faults were a complicated thing to assign. Kris let the cold air prickle the tender skin from the Fountain burn.

* Text Susie the news

I could always stop if I wanted to, Kris tried to convince their own brain as a hand reached into their pocket unwillingly and unknowingly, I have control over the situation.

Kris let the text send. Kris let their legs do the walking to take them home. And Kris let the red soul keep occupying that space in their chest, reasoning that there was no harm in letting it push them in the right direction because deep down, Kris knew that without it, they would never find the energy to walk all the way home on their own.

I feel so tired, all the time. It’s just hard… to not put on the autopilot.

Of course, that’s why I’m here. To guide you.

One thing was inevitable for the evening: Kris was going to be trouble for being out so late. Sometimes, Kris wished they had Berdly’s father instead. Some perpetually absent guy who had lots of money for stuff and had no real clue what his kid was doing all day. It would make this Dark World business so much smoother, Kris thought. But no, mom was going to be home for sure and she was going to be furious at how Kris could disappear for the whole day without anyone knowing. That made the walk home infinitely more miserable.

When that Spelling Bee comes around, we’re going to crush him.

That’s right.

Berdly heard the front door click and shut itself seconds later. It certainly did surprise him. He was just about to doze off.

“You’re still up?” His father asked. “It’s past midnight, my boy. I don’t care if it’s technically not a school night.”

Berdly rushed over to his phone and turned the music off and picked his books off from the floor. “I’m studying.”

“I know but do it during the daytime. The effects of sleep are compounded across a lifetime, Berdly. Poor habits now will show when you are older and I’m not telling you this as a doctor, either. I’m telling you this as an old person. My back hurts because I was an idiot in college.”

“You’re prehistoric.”

“Ha.”

“But you always work late. What’s your whole deal then?”

“It’s always the same thing. You know, I think they start teaching home economics and workshop classes like they used to do when I was a kid. It builds common sense, not just cloth-making. Do you want to hear the inanest thing that gave me a headache at work today?”

“Wait, I know that word… I-NAN-EST!”

“I’m not sure why you split the word up that particular way. The root word is inane. It should be INANE-ST. Anyway, go to sleep. You’re done studying. Doctor’s orders.”

“But you said you had a story!”

“Oh right. Well, I’ll do my best to tell you as little as possible because this is supposed to be confidential patient information. Vitamin B12. You remember it?”

“Cobalamin. A nine letter noun just like ‘analgesic’.”

“Correct. I prescribed 600 mg of it daily for one of my patients and you know what they did? Bought twice that amount in Vitamin B6 because it was ‘cheaper at the store’. By Lord… I cannot even begin to articulate how dumbfounded I was. It was like someone poured a pot of ice-water over my head while I was still sitting at my desk. My point is: professional life is truly soul numbing sometimes. Enjoy your school days. You won’t believe it, but those years are the best.”

“…That’s it? That was short."

“Oh, you’re not old enough to know the rest of this story.”

Berdly frowned. His darkening eye bags made his eyes almost aggressive when he scowled. “I’m old enough to do groceries and call technicians to fix our washing machine and stuff. You know, the water-meter guy came by the other day, and I told him where to check it. I’m basically the lord of this house except I don’t pay the mortgage or sign the papers for stuff. What makes this story so bad that I can’t know about it? I’ve heard of alcohol before. What else is there even?”

His father took off his glasses and squeezed the bridge above his beak. He gave a long sigh. “You know, it’s hard to explain this to someone your age. There are some things that you just can’t handle on your own. I know it seems like I don’t have it all together because I can’t be home all the time but believe me, Berdly, I do.” He turned around to look Berdly in the eye. “You are not old enough to understand what responsibility looks like.”

“What!? I… I literally took care of that washing machine thing two weeks ago without you asking me to!”

“You’re self-sufficient. Why say it so with this much upset? It’s something to be proud of.”

Berdly didn’t know what to say first. Something rose in his chest and Berdly scrambled to find the words. Nothing came out but he had something to say. It just didn’t come to him in any neat sentence.

“Come sit with me,” his father said. “Let’s take a break from work. Twenty minutes. Then, I’ll let you go to sleep.”

Berdly sat down on the couch and fumbled with his feathers nervously. “A-are you going to ask me about last week again? I already told you. It’s all better now. And I don’t want to talk about it. It’s all taken care of anyway.”

The room was silent for a few minutes as Berdly’s father scrolled down the television menu, deciding what to watch. If this were anyone else, Berdly would be waiting to see what they would pick, like some kind of litmus test for their mood but this was his father. He knew with almost utmost certainty that he was just buying time to decide what to say. Berdly used that time the same way to prepare his case.

He ended up not choosing anything. He stopped scrolling too. He turned his head to face Berdly and finally spoke.

“I got the monthly bills today. You barely used the internet in the last week.”

Berdly was not expecting to hear that.

“Cleansing yourself of all modern technology or something? Listen, I know you’ve been at home because Toriel called to tell me everything that she has been discussing with you. Hibernation, Berdly? That’s clever, I’ll admit.”

“Y-you… she’s been calling you about everything!?” Berdly’s soul sank down to his stomach and he felt nauseous. “… are you mad?”

Berdly’s father rubbed his eyes. “Believe it or not, I’m actually not. I’m equally as frustrated as I am disappointed, but I am not angry. I’d be an idiot to think that a teenager would just tell the truth completely and let working professionals find them the solutions they need. When she told me that you went into hibernation and asked me to confirm, I just told her that such patient information was private and that I would take over from there. It’s not my place to be ruining your reputation with your teachers, which is why I’m giving you the chance to explain yourself here, at home.”

“…”

“I’ve been a child too, despite being ‘prehistoric’, as you say. It’s not deceptive to want to keep your life private. But the fact that you haven’t been playing your little games or going online to chat with your friends is troubling to me. When people lose interest in things so central to them so fast… Berdly, in medicine, we consider that to be a symptom of many things.”

“...”

“It calls for concern.”

“Right…”

“I’ll be frank with you. I know you can handle yourself. It’s why can comfortably let you stay at home by yourself while I have to work late into the night. But… I have no idea how you almost got yourself killed the other week. Do you understand why I was so angry? What on earth was I supposed to feel, anyhow? Now, I don’t know how you got into such a strange predicament in the first place but it’s up to me to take care of it, given the stakes here. You’re legally a child. I’m supposed to step in, and yet you complain and claim to not understand why I do what I do.”

“I mean… I do. I just don’t know how to put it into words.”

“Then let’s start simply. What’s going on at school?”

Berdly thought of a laundry list of things he could say. There were so many things he ought not to say, but one in particular stood out to him. Admittedly, it was also the one that hurt the most.

“Noelle isn’t talking to me.”

“… I see.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I trust that you’ll come to me for help if you need it.”

“… that’s it?”

“What, was I supposed to sign off with a ribbon-cutting ceremony? I told you everything I needed to say. I can’t force the truth out of you, and admittedly, solving your own problems is part of growing into an adult. But, when things become too much, promise me you will let me help.”

“You’re really letting me off the hook for not telling you things?”

“Oh, believe me. I will step in when I need to, and I won’t hesitate to stop you from sticking a fork into the electrical socket by whatever means necessary. This is a warning as much as it is a gesture of goodwill.”

Berdly was about to start sweating until he noticed the slight smile on his father’s face.

“For what it’s worth… I’m thankful that you survived whatever that was. I may not understand it but frankly, all I care about is the fact that you’re still here. The explanation can wait.”

The two sat in silence as the television grew tired of their idle browsing and picked a show at random. The soft ambience of the music flowed through the house, and Berdly could feel himself start to be convinced that everything was going to be okay.

“You had no idea how numb we were when you came in.” Berdly’s father spoke quietly as he stared off into the distance, away from the television screen. “The nurse said I was in denial – told me that a monster who has fallen down was just that, nothing more. And they said we had to take you out of the hospital bed if your soul wasn’t beating. But I insisted we wait. I didn’t want to see them take you away in a sealed bag.” His voice began to slightly trail up. “That’s my boy, you know? He can’t possibly be dead, he's still in school.”

“…”

“Receptionist came by to tell me something. Truthfully, I knew that putting all those expensive drugs into your IV bag was like flushing them down the sink. Hundreds of dollars over the course of several hours. And I had no idea why I was still calculating the right dosages and checking those calculations five or six times to make sure I had them right. They weren’t going to do anything for someone whose organs weren’t going to metabolize them.”

“…”

“I really thought you had died, Berdly.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s refreshing to hear.”

“No, I’m really sorry,” Berdly began to feel the moisture gather in his eyes, but he kept it at bay. He knew that one lie couldn’t exist on its own. It had to be followed by another, and then another, until there was no way to tell the truth anymore. He was growing a Fountain in his soul and Ralsei was right: eventually, it was going to kill him. And when it happens, then…

“Hey now… okay, the organ part was bit extreme – “

“I don’t know how I’m still alive,” Berdly croaked out. It was as close to the truth as he could reasonably say. “And now – and now nobody at school is talking to me. Noelle isn’t around to help me with homework because she’s sick and she has new friends now. A-and I’m so tired all the time. I can’t eat. I just don’t feel hungry anymore, and my head hurts…”

“And I assume that’s why you’ve gotten thin, isn’t it?”

“W-what? I didn’t notice.”

“Well, I did.” He pressed a wing to Berdly’s head and smoothed the disheveled feathers neatly in their place. “Sit tight. I’ll make something.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Staying up late is my superpower,” he said half-humorously.

Berdly laid his head down on the couch and let the television drown him in sensations of light and noise. He couldn’t ell what time it was anymore, but he wanted to stay. Whatever his father was making, Berdly thought sadly, he wasn’t going to be able to taste it. A few seconds passed, and then a few more and Berdly found himself unwillingly succumbing to the fatigue he had built up over the day, most of it spent daydreaming about some far-off place when now, more than anything, he just wanted to stay here a little longer.

“But you know… sometimes. When I talk to you, it’s like your mind is elsewhere.”

Berdly could faintly hear snippets of conversation being sent his way, but he was too tired to say something back.

“Regardless, I appreciate it when you ask for my help. I just wish you did it more often. It’s flattering, in a way.”

          “Son? Oh, you must be falling asleep.”

                  “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll put this in the fridge.”

                          “Good night.”

Chapter Text

By Monday morning, news had already spread around town.

          “You know the doctor’s son?”

          “Of course! Janice and I saw him at the doctor’s office when we came over for a checkup. He’s very much like his father, you know. Just smaller.”

          “Well, he was taken into the hospital last week. They found him unconscious at the public library.”

          “Oh my! A-are you sure it was him?”

          “Yes, and you won’t believe what Heather told me…”

The first version of the story started last Thursday, after Catti’s conversation with Jockington had been overheard by Mrs. Hitherooth at the diner, who was just enjoying tea nearby. She recalled hearing that a certain student had been keeping secrets at school and concluded that he had been seeing the mayor’s daughter afterschool against his father’s wishes, as all old ladies liked to assume about everyone. However, she had also caught wind from the other old ladies at the afternoon tea that the Noelle girl had been staying home with a cold since last week, and since Mrs. Hitherooth had no clue as to what the doctor’s son was hiding, she continued to ask around. It was only during her monthly medicine refill that she heard his name again. The hospital reception let slip that the boy, Berdly was his name, had been hospitalized for something serious just last week, though the exact reason was unclear. Mrs. Hitherooth had no qualms with letting her imagination fill the gap. She gasped and clutched her arthritis medication like pearls.

          “But… you mean he’s really involved with dangerous people after school? Oh, I’ll have to tell Mrs. Holiday right away. She needs to keep that daughter of hers away from that troublesome boy.”

Friday came and the second version of the story was being peddled by Mayor Holiday of all people, which was ironic because she was stern where Mrs. Hitherooth was frivolous, and she did not tolerate gossip, especially the political kind. Accusations of organized violence in their community was a potentially fast-growing heap of conspiracy nonsense, and it would come right at the start of the next election season… what on Earth did Mrs. Hitherooth think she was doing?

“Noelle,” she asked pointedly. “Do you still keep in touch with Berdly?”

“Umm, well not this past week.”

“Hmm…” She looked at Susie, who was now visiting Noelle almost daily to bring her homework or study together. “You… have you ever met any trouble kids at school?”

Susie frowned. She didn’t need to be a genius to know that this was about to get accusatory, fast. Did she think Susie would know the name of every criminal around town!? Mayor Holiday wasn’t going to resist an easy chance to make light of the fact that Susie was a bit of a misfit and Susie, with all her misguided stubbornness, refused to give Mayor Holiday a reason to stop her from hanging out with Noelle. This was just a house with gates for some reason, not a damn palace with guards.

“No,” Susie said as straightforward as possible. “I go here afterschool. And when I’m not, I’m hanging out with the principal’s kid at the library.”

“Well, do you two know anything about this accident that Berdly got into? It happened at the library, apparently.”

Susie and Noelle looked at each other nervously. It was Susie who spoke up. “Well, yeah. That library part’s true. But he… um, I heard that he fell asleep. Worked too hard or something. You know how he is.”

“So, what you’re saying is…”

The librarian was the next to know.

She wasn’t pleased. The weekends were not for work, in her opinion. Of course, Mayor Holiday called whenever she saw fit, and the librarian had already dressed for Sunday church.

“So, he didn’t faint because of the cold? Hmpf. So Toriel got on my case for nothing! I had to hire a technician to fix the ACs and everything! Does that woman know how little our budget is, compared to the school? We could have fixed all the windows in the building for that same cost!”

She didn’t believe that Berdly had been beat up by some street hooligans like some of the silly nursing home ladies had been peddling around on their daily walk at the park. The library was under her surveillance and everyone who went in and out of the library that day were people the librarian knew: students from the school, some college kids, and one old person (which was just her husband). She also didn’t buy Mayor Holiday’s version of the story that Berdly had been under so much pressure from work that he had collapsed from exhaustion. It held every bit of fake concern as the librarian knew Mrs. Holiday could muster.

“Listen Carol… don’t try to play dolls and gossip with me. That boy’s workload was not that heavy here and you’re frankly just trying to accuse me of overworking my volunteers to get me to cut down on library projects again. If anything, I think the boy was not eating enough! Have you even been to the doctor’s clinic?! My point is, he’s always there, even on weekends and public holidays! He ain’t coming home and making his kid those cute little bento lunches or whatever the hell those are called, I’ll tell you that. If you want to stir some budget war with a publicly funded institution, go bother him or Toriel. They know the boy too, probably more than I do since he’s either at school or at home these days.”

The librarian set the phone down with a great big huff. What authority did Mayor Holiday have for accusing her of abusing his volunteerism? She cared much more for the boy than Carol did, certainly. She found him in the closet. She brought him to the hospital, where without a doubt, his father was working, clueless to the whereabouts and potential death of his own son, had it not been for her.

That careless man, she thought angrily, clenching a fist. What a sorry excuse for a parent. Even an old cow like me could have done a better job keeping an eye on the boy.

A sudden cloud settled down on her shoulders. To his father’s credit, whatever had happened that day had been under her watch, no? She began to wonder: the boy’s father was never around, and apparently, his son had been lying to his teachers about his after-school activities. Surely, the possibility that Berdly was involved with some… unrespectable habits wasn’t entirely out of question, was it? It was the one thing that could have slipped her attention while she was at the front office. It was the one kind of damage that required no perpetrator to be in the room, just Berdly himself and a few… well, his father did work at a hospital. It certainly wouldn’t be difficult for him to obtain…

She felt oddly scared. One hand picked up the phone and nervously dialed forward.

Unknowing to her, this was the start of rumour three.

Alphys had been receiving a variety of emails all weekend, with the last being sent by her old mentor of all people. The email headline simply contained the word ‘Berdly’, and Alphys knew with a sinking feeling what it was going to be about.

Deep down, was already beginning to suspect that Berdly was showing up to school not feeling well, but it seemed unlikely that this teenager in particular would be involved with something like that. However, the evidence was compounding: his declining grades, his lethargy in class, and then there were the numerous concerned and worried emails, many of which were from his very own classmates, who surely had more knowledge of his hobbies than the faculty did. Some emails, to Alphy’s surprise, were from various people around the community who had known Berdly as the doctor’s son and wanted to know if he was doing alright. She didn’t answer those. Student information, like patient information, was strictly private. And it was due to this principle that Alphys had no way of confirming with the hospital whether Berdly had really been medically cleared after his mysterious accident last week. That was something only Toriel had the authority to request for.

School protocol was to forward the emails to the principal if they were of serious concern and by the looks of it, Alphys knew that in her hands was a classic, textbook case of something serious. Alphy’s hand trembled over the keyboard.

Oh my god, oh my god, Alphys panicked as Sunday evening began to crawl past midnight and the next school day was about to begin. Does his father know? A-am I supposed to be the one to tell him? No no, just tell Toriel. She’ll handle it.

By early Monday morning, Berdly’s father had turned his phone on Do-Not-Disturb and left to attend the last medical conference of that season. Narrowly by two hours, he had avoided receiving Alphys’s call and with that blissful ignorance, he left town for the next couple days, not knowing that back home, him and his son were the talk of the town.

          Groceries are in the fridge and cupboard.

          I have no doubt that you’ll be able to succeed at tryouts. I’ll be back in time to watch you

          compete in the Spelling Bee. Call if there’s an emergency.

          Until then, take care. Have fun at school.

          - Father

The note lay neatly folded in Berdly’s pocket. It had been ages since he wore a hooded sweater, but these were strange, somewhat historically nostalgic times. People paid no attention to him then, and with the radio silence he’s been getting on all his social media feeds, Berdly assumed that’s what the new status quo would be as soon as he walked through those school doors. At least, that’s what Berdly thought was going to happen.

People noticed his presence immediately. The hall became silent in mere seconds as a trail of eyes followed him all the way to his locker, preying on his every action and analyzing the local talking-piece for any information they could pick out from the way he was dressed to the way he moved.

Berdly held his chin high as he marched down the hall. He was the smartest kid in school. Let the people look and speculate, for all Berdly cared. Once the Spelling Bee came around, he would set the record straight, that he was untouchable by the frenzied, futile attempts to dethrone his image. He will always be known for being smart and hardworking, first and foremost. A monument crafted over the course of several highly disciplined years should hardly be challenged by such a minor scraping, when it was built to withstand the test of weather, in all its forms.

The fact that they cared so much about gossip relating to him testified to how important he was. If this were Susie, hardly anyone would have spread the word. Hell, if this were Kris, nobody would have cared.

Strangely however, people did start to care about Kris more now. There were online accounts just dedicated to seeing Kris win and Berdly lose. Somehow, over the course of a single weekend, the Spelling Bee had become something resembling a sporting event, with teams. And in classic fashion for the general public, there were even stereotypes assigned for those who supported Kris versus those who supported Berdly.

He wasn’t phased. He had a plan to counteract all the nasty things being said about him. Discredit, discredit, discredit. Lie if you have to.

Walking down the hall in correctly fitting pants for once and a differently cut green-striped sweater was the new Kris Dreemurr. The hem of their brother’s jeans now stopped at the appropriate length above the shoes, black to match, and connected seamlessly through the ambiguity of dark-on-dark colours. It made the legs appear longer and gave them a classical shape: slender and sleek. That sweater sat on their collared shirt without a wrinkle either. It was an academic look, one that now commanded a respect for its wearer and even Berdly couldn’t help but think upon seeing Kris: this is a student, at a school, and they looked like they belonged here. From a distance, the silhouette of Kris Dreemur was an identifiable symbol: it was sharp along the shoulders before falling down to either side in straight, clear lines that reached the shoes, with laces tied and tucked away. Kris was not a formless being anymore, mumbling and stalking the halls. This was the striking image of what clear-cut classical and geometric could be – this was what a human could look like at its most pristine.

Since when did Kris wear collared shirts? Who the hell dressed them this morning?

Susie had changed too over the weekend, though not visually. Of course, Susie was physically here, which was the most striking visual detail one could have picked up on. She stood up a bit straighter and walked next to Kris like some kind of bouncer. Even her steps had a bit of a spring to them and Berdly stood there dumbfounded as they slowly walked towards him, looking for trouble.

And that’s when the lights in the hall began to flicker. It was subtle at first. Someone maybe turned the brightness on their phone a little higher, without realizing why. Others may have thought themselves to be particularly tired that morning, if the whole world seemed to get a little darker but no, the truth was, the halls were growing dim. In one unexciting moment, the fluorescent bulb went out with a soft, muffle crackle. The people in the hall stood in silence and looked around at each other to see if anyone else had read an email or something that morning which would explain the phenomenon.

Kris and Susie were the first to stop in their steps, looking to each other with something resembling panic, and concern. It was as though a flicker of realization had passed between them as they nervously glanced at the storage classroom, though Berdly wasn’t sure why.

With the hallway gone quiet, and his two temporary nemeses right in front of him, Berdly cleared his throat and began the monologue which he had been preparing in front of the bathroom mirror since yesterday.

“Ahh! Kris! You’re just the person I’ve been meaning to talk to!”

All the heads turned to see what was going on. Kris scrunched their eyebrows in confusion.

“Listen, I don’t know what exactly you’ve been accusing me of that has everyone so riled up, and frankly, I don’t care what kind of lavish stories you’ve been crafting because I have a pretty good idea as to what your plebeian motivations are.” Berdly said it just loudly enough to make sure that everyone in the hall could hear him. “Remember that time I asked you what the largest cell in the body was? Let me think... what was your answer again…?”

Kris said nothing.

“Oh right. The EYEBALL. Or when I tried to get Mr. Talligate’s attention in Spanish last year and you told me… He can’t hear you Berdly! He doesn’t have his glasses on! Or that time you failed your English essay, even though that’s literally the only language you know how to speak. That had to have set a record… a record low.”

Nearby, someone’s laugh could be heard next to the sound of a video beginning to record from a phone.

“My point is,” Berdly continued. “It takes a special type of moron to say or do the kind of things you do. It’s who you are, Kris. It’s built into the very foundation of that puny brain of yours. I would never say these things, and I bet Noelle would never say them either because most people don’t make these kinds of stupid blunders. It’s outside of our range of capability, but you? You really think a weekend of ‘studying’ is going to make up for the massive amounts of knowledge I’ve been collecting across several years? Yeah. The fact that you people resort to such primitive measures just shows how little you stand a chance at the –”

Susie clenched a fist and leaned into Berdly’s vicinity. “Watch it, Berdly.”

Berdly just waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll talk to you later, Susie. Anyway…”

“…”

“Your mind works in annoyingly simple ways. If you can’t rise up to Berdly’s level, I bet you could probably try to intimidate him into sinking to YOUR LEVEL. Hah! Wish what you want Kris, but nobody here is stupid enough to believe whatever you’ve been spreading around town. As if you of all people could come up with a consistent story. Dozens of people have already come up to me, warning me not to hang around you because they’ve been picking holes in your logic and telling me how stupid it is! Your stories don’t add up, and it’s a huge mess. I’m getting second hand embarrassment just from imagining you going up to a bunch of people and trying to start a campaign against me. You really thought you were onto something, weren’t you?”

“…”

“And whoever’s been buying into your stories?” Berdly said, making sure that his voice projected down the hall. “They have to be the most gullible people on the planet.”

On cue, several people began to glance at each other and murmur beneath the hems of their sweaters. Nobody liked to be on the side of conspiracy when it all came crashing down. People, as Berdly knew from his own experiences, didn’t like to be proved wrong and so, they always stayed on the side of popular convention to avoid being marked as the first to be tricked by lies. Most people were not brave. It was the reason why Berdly loved oral presentations and getting up on stage. He flourished in the presence of a crowd when others didn’t. People possessed a fear of crowds more than they feared death. The number of people who avoided raising their hand in class was sociological, statistical proof.

          “Is it true that Kris is spreading rumours?”

          “Ayo, I never thought they were true. I’m not a part of that groupthink stuff.”

          "Josh totally believed them.”

          “- Hey, no I didn’t!”

Kris and Susie just stood there, idly, and preoccupied with the fact that the lights in the hallway still haven’t turned on. Kris wouldn’t stop staring at the door to the storage.

“What were the rumours about anyway? Not that I care or anything.”

“We have no idea what the hell you’re talking about, Berdly.”

Susie tried to whisk Kris away, embarrassed by the whole ordeal and people in the halls recording the whole encounter go down from their phones. Susie admittedly didn’t know what Kris had been doing for the better part of the weekend, but firmly believed that Kris wouldn’t stoop so low as to be the root cause of all of this humiliating mess. Sure, Susie had heard some of the things circulating around town, but she was at Noelle’s house during it all. It couldn’t have been her fault. She pulled on Kris’s arm lightly, but Kris wouldn’t budge.

Berdly stalked closer to them, kicking his foot forward to encourage Kris into moving backward as he invaded their personal space. It was as though phantom nails had been bolted to Kris’s feet, preventing their muscles from activating because Kris didn’t budge even though their arms were shaking and they were wincing on the spot. Berdly inched a little closer, curious.

“Fine, you don’t want to answer me?”

“…”

“I hope you know what you’re getting into when you attend Tryouts today.” He leaned in and whispered into their face like Kris often did last week, when they intimidated him in class, from behind his chair.

Several people in the hallway pretended to be digging through their backpacks, but they collectively hushed to hear what he was about to say. This was Berdly’s prime element. He lived for his next encounter.

“I heard Asriel is coming home at the end of the week. He’s won a few competitions, hasn’t he? By your age, he’d probably won a solid few, just like me.”

Kris’s throat began to tighten.

“I bet you thought that if you could win this, you could feel like you’re somewhat on equal footing. You could avoid having to shrivel away in embarrassment when he comes and realizes that he’s outgrown the need for you.” His voice descended to a whisper so that only Kris would hear the last part. “You’re the weird, quiet, creepy kid. I am a goddamn legend at this school. You can’t touch me because your skinny arms don’t reach that high.”

Kris had bags under their eyes from lack of sleep and they looked absolutely miserable. Yet, Berdly couldn’t find it in him to care. Kris was single-handedly about to ruin his chances of ever going to college and then irreparably damage whatever respect that his father and community had for him. Exactly one week ago, Kris orchestrated what could have been his death and now, was Berdly supposed to extend his forgiveness? It was Kris and Susie who had something to do with the fact that Noelle couldn’t come to school for the greater part of last week. These were villains. Berdly was the last person to care if Kris shed a tear in the middle of the hallway. It wouldn’t kill them to learn a lesson at school.

“Watch yourself, Berdly!”

Susie reached over and grasped the hood of Berdly’s sweater, pulling him back until he was forced to bend over, or risk stumbling over his own feet.

“Does that big beak of yours ever get you into trouble?” Her sharp teeth flashed in front of him, and people started gathering in the hall to watch the commotion. “Because you’re about to find out.”

“You… of all people shouldn’t be… nghh…”

“Yeah, keep letting your mouth do the thinking, big man. Don’t forget that your dad bought you from a pet store to get discounts for his taxes or some lame shit like that. You think you’re so cool, making fun of Kris? You’re pathetic. You reek of it.”

Berdly flinched and fumbled in his spot, but Susie was far larger than he was, and probably twice his mass. He could feel the top of his backpack start to open.

“Hey, let go! I’ll – I’ll tell on you!”

“Try it, I dare you. If anyone’s family isn’t happy to see them, it’s yours. So don’t act like you’re so high and mighty around Kris. Kris has done nothing to you.”

“Ngk –“

“And leave Noelle’s name out of it. You don’t see Noelle rubbing it in peoples’ faces like you do. People like her because she’s a good person, Berdly. You’re acting pathetic today.”

“You think I’m pathetic? At least I only tell the truth! I’m not the one spreading lame rumours about you all over school! What are they anyway – “

Susie’s ears picked up the familiar click of a teacher’s office door opening and like the seasoned hallway veteran she was, she calmly let go of Berdly’s hood and let his fumbling do the rest of the job. Calmly, she put her hands back into her pockets and pretended like nothing had happened.

Berdly stumbled and tripped over himself. He could feel the top of his backpack finally become undone as he hit the ground and heard the crash of its contents spilling out onto the floor. The people in the hall watched in fascination as several regular class items tumbled out: two books, a binder, some random stationary… but that’s when it became interesting.

From the very bottom of Berdly’s bag, a single white bottle rolled out. The soft pitter patter of pills inside sustained its momentum as it travelled down the hallway, straight for the office door. To Berdly’s mortification, it made its final destination by the foot of the opened door, where the principal had just stepped out to see what was happening with the lights in the school.

Berdly’s body ran cold as the reality dawned on him: it didn’t matter what was in that bottle. It could have been multivitamins or a bunch of pencil erasers for all they knew. But now, with everyone having watched it roll down the hall, Berdly’s reputation was solidified.

Toriel leaned forward and swept up the bottle in one hand.

In those moments, you could hear a snowflake drop. It was the sound of every rumour achieving its confirmation: no one talked, but everyone heard.

He was frozen in place, and it was impossible to breathe.

“Berdly. Come into my office, now.”

The lights came on around the school not too long after the whole hallway commotion came to its end. One of the receptionists was complaining about the internet being spotty but Berdly couldn’t focus on anything around him. He twiddled his pen in his hand, and he watched the clock on the wall as his time spent waiting by Toriel’s door creeped past five, then ten minutes.

“Berdly, come in.”

He felt physically sick. This was not something that happened to good students. It happened to Susie, to Kris, to random kids that Berdly didn’t know or care to know, but not him.

“Sit down.”

He didn’t argue with her.

“Berdly, you’ve been lying to me.” Toriel turned the bottle’s label towards him. “How do you explain why this bottle is half-empty?”

Like a seasoned liar, Berdly began his second monologue of the day. “I brought them to school to ask the chemistry teacher for advice on my summer project. I’ve been using them as fertilizer for the plants outside my house because I’m working on my poster for the science fair this summer. I’m trying to test which compounds were most suitable for accelerating plant growth and – “

“Berdly, I am reaching the end of my patience. Please tell me the truth.”

“…”

“Do you have a notebook I could look at, perhaps? If you’ve been doing these science experiments, you must have some written results, or a few paragraphs outlining the content of this poster you’re making.”

“I left it at home.”

“Then can you bring in any of your classmates to confirm whether you’ve been talking about this project you’re so passionate about?”

“It’s a personal project.”

“And what if I called the museum office right now, Berdly? Just to ask them if you’re indeed enrolled in any summer science fair program, as you said. I’m a teacher, Berdly. I don’t recall there being a science fair this summer.”

“It’s in another town.”

“Berdly, that’s enough.”

His soul was racing, and he could feel his head spinning as he tried to get his story straight. The bottle of sleeping aids sat right in between them. It was the one thing he couldn’t deny. No matter what story he made up, it had to include them, and it was nearly impossible to make a story like that sound good. Yet, that was the most frustrating thing about the whole situation. They were just sleeping aids. Why did the receptionist look at him like he had brought a weapon to school?

“Alphys has been forwarding me several concerning emails. Your grades have been dropping steadily, and your participation in class has been very low last week. The French teacher told me that she saw you fighting with Kris and Susie in the hallway just now, and there are students who have told me at lunch that you are being cruel and unjust towards your fellow classmates.”

“Ms. Toriel, there were a dozen people recording that whole thing. Susie attacked me.”

“Alphys says that you often sleep in class, that you show up late, and smell like coffee. What’s going on?”

Berdly looked away. “I don’t know.”

“Your father is going to be very disappointed...”

“Wait. No, please don’t call him.”

“How come?”

“He’s at a conference right now. He’s… he’s meeting with these board of directors and a bunch of really important people. He’s been talking about this conference for months. It’s a big deal in the medical community or something but you can’t interrupt him. He’s in the middle of something way more important than either of us right now and if… if I ruin this for him, he’ll never forgive me. Just give me a few more days and –“

“Berdly.”

“He gave me this note, see?” Berdly fumbled with the pocket of his sweater. “He says only call if there’s an emergency. A-and the rest of it, too. You can tell I’m not in trouble with him. He knows what you told him last week. I wasn’t lying. If I was lying, then he would have said something! Right? I swear, Ms. Toriel. These don’t even have addictive stuff in them. The only addictive things out there are things like caffeine and whatever they put in cigars. This is about as harmless as multivitamins, and I’ve only taken two so far. One last week and one last night.”

“…”

“They’re half-empty because I just found them that way. They’re from the cupboard. We’ve had them for a while, and I didn’t take all of them. I promise, I promise.”

There was a lump in his throat, threatening to choke him.

“And I didn’t even mean to take them. I thought I was taking the bottle that I put cashews in. I must have forgotten. I mean, these bottles aren’t transparent. How was I supposed to know? And I’m doing fine in school. I was just worried about Noelle having a cold and that affected my class participation, but I’ve been studying really hard.”

“Berdly dear, let's take a step back…”

“It’s not even my fault!” his voice came out whiny like a child’s. “You made me quit every one of my hobbies and I had nothing to do, and I couldn’t sleep because… because Kris, yeah. YOUR kid has been spreading all these rumours about me that aren’t even true. So, I’ve been stressed out of my mind and it’s all their fault! I still don’t know what they said, but they’ve been making me mad in class and now I can’t concentrate.”

“Here’s what we’re going to do, Berdly –“

“I can’t stay in here. I’m going to miss tryouts. If I did, then–“

“Berdly.”

“…”

“This is what we’re going to do, Berdly. Listen to me first.”

The sunshine filtered through the window just enough to bring out the golden shine of Noelle’s hair as she took her seat at the corner of the classroom. She had packed a few extra snacks with her today, tucked neatly into the second pocket of her backpack, so they wouldn’t be squished by her books.

Noelle heard from Susie that the best way to greet someone after a long time was to offer them something tasty to eat, and Noelle thought that it was a great idea. It wasn’t often that she took time off from school unless it was for a field trip. And everyone knew that Noelle was not someone who got sick very often.

The classroom was one of her favourite places to be. Staying at home was nice, but with such a large empty house, Noelle eventually grew bored. She couldn’t imagine spending all of her time in such a vacuous, sterile place when she could be with her friends instead, or at the hospital to visit her dad. Noelle was the type of person that liked to read stories to the younger students in the morning while the teachers made their coffee. She liked to play chess with Berdly at lunch and go listen to the band kids play their music afterschool. The snacks were not just a gesture of goodwill, but in a way, they served as a slight apology. Noelle hoped that with a few extra cookies passed around, people would also be reassured that she had not forgotten about them during her break and was more than happy to join them again.

Almost a week had passed since she left. Now, she was finally ready to return to something normal.

Sakura tea biscuits, matcha-baked pretzels, and some assorted fruit snacks – picked out of the pantry by Noelle herself.

“Do you want one, Catti?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

It’s going to be a good day. Think positively.

“Sorry class, I-I’m just going to try and get this projector to work. The building is being so weird all of a sudden…” Ms. Alphys never had to deal with technical difficulties like this, which had been lasting all morning. “Something must have happened over the weekend. I guess…”

Berdly won’t be mad, Noelle repeated to herself. He’s probably going to be annoyed but he loves green food. He’ll get over it. He always has.

“Hey Catti.” Noelle kept her voice down to a whisper, “I heard the lights went out for a while. Is that true!?!”

“Yeah.”

“Hah, I guess it’s just my luck that I decided to come back to school just when things are getting weird.”

“I guess no one’s told you about Berdly, right?” Jockington bent his head towards the aisle between the desks. “You weren’t here this morning.”

Noelle looked worriedly at the empty chair next to her, in the centre of the classroom. “Oh. Did someone spill something on his shirt? No wonder he’s been in the washroom for so long.”

The class threw a few glances around, but not a word came forward to correct her. An awkward, nervous pause lingered in the air as everyone just averted their gaze from Noelle when she turned around in her seat. She wondered why the class had gone so silent. Alphys even made the automatic mistake of looking over her shoulder just as Berdly’s name was mentioned. Sheepishly however, she turned back around when she realized that Noelle was staring at her, anticipating some kind of explanation. Alphys probably had one, but she wasn’t privy to sharing.

“Shhh, class. Uh, just hold tight. I’ll g-get this fixed in a second.”

“Has anyone seen Berdly this morning?” Noelle asked nobody in particular.

Luckily, nobody had to answer that question because right on cue, Berdly walked into the classroom.

“Ms. Alphys, I have something for you. Should I…”

Berdly’s eyes dilated as something gold caught his eye from the corner of the room. His breath hitched. This had to be a cruel joke. There was no way that Noelle had chosen now, of all times, to come back to class.

She stared right back at him, in disbelief.

Berdly had changed.

His feathers were no longer as bright as Noelle remembered them to be. Trailing up his neck was a new coat growing in, dark at the roots, and muted towards the tip, as though the colour had been slowly drained from them, making him look older. It was uncomfortable to look at the way Berdly’s eyes scrunched to reveal deep circles underneath, or how his face had become slightly more angular as he had lost some weight. His gaze, once curious and judgemental, now looked back her tiredly and held a trace of something apathetic – the restless kind of look your parents would give you after a rough day at work and didn’t want to talk or hang out. Berdly never wore sweatshirts or hooded sweaters. He regarded them as lazy apparel, inappropriate for scholars or for anyone in an academic setting, and yet, covering every inch of his arms and neck was a fabric that Noelle had not seen him wear in months.

Shame and embarrassment flashed across his face as he looked elsewhere, refusing to meet her in the eye. A pained expression lingered in their absence.

What had happened in the week that she was gone?

His pen, the one that Susie had told her about, the one that Noelle knew had no ink cartridge, peeked out the front pocket of his sweater. Something else was there too.

“You can leave it on my desk, Berdly.”

Everyone knew about the slips. There were several kinds. White slips were the lucky ones, depending on the day. It meant that your parents had signed you out so that you could end school early for the afternoon to go see the dentist or visit a family member in another city. Pink slips meant that you were late for class, either by accident or because an older sibling or parent had signed you out. And yellow slips were for something involving detention, though if you were crazy enough (as Susie would confirm), you got a red slip for it and had to spend your detention time with Toriel.

Berdly reached into his pocket and took out a black slip.

He placed it on Alphys desk and sat at his own desk unceremoniously, resting his head in his hands. It didn’t matter which way the paper was facing. He knew that everybody could see what it was from any distance away. Moments later, the sound of plastic crinkling against his elbow brought his head back up.

“It’s for you,” Noelle said quietly.

Berdly mustered a smile. “Thanks.”

Noelle couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Up close, Berdly looked like a different person.

He put the green snack in his pocket and felt the paper note from his father just beneath his hand. Whatever Toriel was about to tell him, Berdly knew that there was no escaping it this time. That cookie was going to have to wait, because Berdly had been given explicit instructions not to eat anything for the next hour. And then, Alphys would excuse him out of class so that he could head for the appointment Toriel set up for him.

Berdly sighed into his sleeve and felt the way the wind brushed over his arm. The staggered breaths hit the wall of fabric between him and the front of the classroom with just enough resistance that it made an audible sound, which could be heard throughout the room. It was one of the disadvantages of sitting at the very front. Everyone could see you, but you couldn’t see anyone else.

If his father wasn’t out of town, then today, he would be the one giving Berdly the tests. The thought of it made him sick down to the core. But did it really matter whether his father was in town or not? The results would be sent to him regardless, because Berdly was legally a minor. All his healthcare information was forwarded to him, until the day he reached adulthood.

Berdly fought back his disappointment. After this was done, his life would be over.

And then, it was Noelle’s voice that broke through to him, past the mental fog.

“Is it true?” She asked softly. The question had enough potency to deal damage.

He sucked in a breath as quietly as he could, but with the dead silence hanging over the classroom, everyone heard him do it.

“Noelle, it’s nice to see you back. Yeah,” he gulped. “It’s true. The group project got moved to next week. So um, don’t worry about it. Everything’s fine.”

“No, it’s not,” someone said from the back, though Berdly had no idea if he was imagining it. The voice was so quiet, he couldn’t tell which direction it came from or who it came from.

Then another.

Taking his belongings with him, Berdly stood up and excused himself out of the classroom early, with no white slip to declare. Regardless, no one stopped him. As silent as they were when he walked in, the class watched him leave.

Chapter Text

Swatch lingered around the room, reluctant to leave. He had to make sure that everything, even slightly important, was leaving with him.

Berdly’s room, once beautifully decorated and full of memorabilia, was empty by the time Ralsei was allowed to enter. What little furniture remained was only there by necessity: the wallpaper, the floorboards, and the door. Even Ralsei’s regular outfit had been confiscated. He now wore a full black suit tailored just for him, leaving only his glasses for him to keep.

Pacing around the edge of the room, Ralsei let his mind wander. What were the downsides to living in a place like this and just waiting until Kris and Susie found him? Every need of his had been addressed: he had clean clothes to wear, plenty of space to exercise, and he knew that dinner would be made available upon request. However, the destructive boredom would eventually etch away at his mind. His spirit would begin to rot, as it nearly did when he spent all those years alone in his castle, waiting for Susie and Kris to show up. Who needed a second chair when there was no one to sit on it? Why did rooms need decorations if no one was going to be around to look at them? Ralsei knew from experience that single-person homes very easily became a physical manifestation of one’s own pathology.

               “Pretend he is one of the residents… he can use my room if we don’t have any spares. Just take out all the books. Give him a dictionary to read or something.”

Ralsei’s investigation began the moment Berdly left. Swatch had the highest authority within the manor when Berdly was not around, and he liked to sort his staff by colour: white robes were for those working on the house’s architecture, yellow denoted the dining staff (except for the supervisory woman, Toriel, who wore purple), pink was for miscellaneous servants, and red was worn for those who looked bad in the colour pink, according to a snobbish looking cat who wore pink. That left him and Swatch as the only people who wore black.

Ralsei also noticed that fascinatingly, Swatch never broke his orders.

1. Pretend like Ralsei is one of the residents.

Swatch didn’t physically interact with the residents very much. During most hours of the day, he maintained a habit of being incredibly still, perched high up somewhere in the hallway where light from the candles barely reached. He would watch the servants as they worked, keeping track of which tasks were finished, and which ones weren’t. Like a raven, he moved swiftly between areas, taking advantage of the manor’s high ceilings to move quietly and without resistance. His treatment of Ralsei was no different than how he treated the servants – ruthlessly polite in a way that gave you nothing to complain about, and stoic and friendly simultaneously so that you never quite knew what he was feeling.

Then, when you least expected it, Swatch would do something out of the ordinary.

He would sweep a feather across your shoulder to remove a piece of dust. He would shake your hand voluntarily, or he would reach across the distance he normally kept between the two of you to push your glasses up. It meant that you were special or had done a particularly good job. He spoke off the same five lines of niceties when you approached him, regardless of the situation. Thus, what truly distinguished Swatch’s attitudes were the ways in which he conducted himself, and that marked Ralsei’s first conclusion: trust nothing he says but pay attention to what he does.

2. Give Berdly’s former room to Ralsei if there were no spares.

               “Do you ever grow nostalgic?” Ralsei couldn’t resist peeking into the room as Swatch cleared out all the furniture. The architecture was highly reminiscent of the rooms Ralsei saw in Queen’s Castle. “You know… um, hold onto things from the past? They must mean something to you.”

               “No. Queen means nothing to me now. She left of her own accord, and I consider that treason.”

               “Hey now, I didn’t mention Queen at all!”

               Swatch scowled as Ralsei flashed him a self-satisfied smile. He was a different butler, back then. He polished silverware for the Queen, not metal bars around a Fountain. The halls were covered in red velvet carpet, rouge of the purest shade, and Swatch picked out the rest of the colours himself: teal green ornate papers to adorn the walls, and golden lights that dropped down above tables of red to match.

               “Your clothes.”

               “What about it?”

               “They disgust me.”

Ralsei kept a careful eye out for anyone in the hallway, but that activity quickly bored him as well. Black and navy blue were the Manor’s two favourite colours. Ralsei had to squint in order to see anything in those dark halls, listening for the telltale sound of talons against wood, but Swatch was nowhere to be found. Looking sharp as spades, Ralsei straightened his back and walked out into the unknown.

               “Arms out.”

               Ralsei hesitated to take his arms off his side but slowly, he raised them, as a child would in expectation of a hug. Swatch towered above him, holding a long stretch of black fabric and a pair of shears. The finger-holes fit crudely onto Swatch’s hand, pushing feathers in jagged directions as he grasped the handles and pried the shears open and closed.

               “Hold still.”

3. Give Ralsei a dictionary to read. Or something else.

The entire house was built upon a foundation of hostility – halls stretched far beyond what Ralsei could see, floors would suddenly drop down into steep stairs or hanging ledges if you weren’t looking out. Signposts were placed so far above your head that it strained your eyes to look at them. The text would be printed in strange colours that Ralsei found indistinguishable from the colour of the wallpaper. Birds saw the world differently than everyone else. It was a fact that became abundantly clear to Ralsei, who was walking blind. He pressed a hand to the nearest surface and inched his way back towards the Fountain Room, which was on the upper floor.

A dash of scarlet appeared at the end of the hall. Ralsei couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Kris, wait!” He attempted a yell that was paradoxically a whisper at the same time. “I’m behind you!”

Quietly as possible, Ralsei sprinted down the hall. In a gut-dropping miscalculation however, his foot hit air instead of floor and the once-flat hallway creaked and stretched beneath his feet, plummeting below in a steep stretch of stairs, pit-deep and hollow through the core of the building. Ralsei’s shoes slipped across the vertical boards with a rough creaking of oak, frictionless, as two skinny arms feverishly clawed at the carpet to pull himself out of the drop. His arms began to shake.

“Kris!” Ralsei screamed to the endless space above and below him. “Come back! I’m stuck!”

Ralsei tried to kick off his shoes, but the laces were tied tight, and he couldn’t free the claws on his feet. They slipped uselessly against the air, as Ralsei bit down on his tongue and tried pulling himself back up again.

               “My point is,” Ralsei pleaded to Swatch. “Queen is there! In Castle Town! I know you miss your old friends and your old job, but this is not the way to get it back. You should come home with me to my town.”

               “Her lady grace…?”

               “Yes! She’ll be so happy to see you again, I’m sure of it!” Ralsei scrambled to etch the shape of the little houses and villas with his finger into the soft carpet. “Now, w-what was it, Colour Café? The shop that you ran with all your friends?”

               “…”

               “Here, we can put it right next to our castle, like this. With a big sign and everything! We can give you something like that. Oh, and Berdly too! He can get his own room, so don’t worry about him!”

               “You drew the sign wrong.”

               “Oh, this is just an idea of what Castle Town looks like! We can always make it the way –"

               “There’s no ‘u’ in Color Café.”

Ralsei’s breath ran dry as continued to struggle against the ledge. His fingertips burned as friction ripped some of the fur from his palm, twisting the strands loose from the base. One hand gave in to fatigue as the other, now bearing the weight for two, grew numb soon after. For one mind-emptying moment, Ralsei felt himself unraveling with shock that connected right from the brain to the body, freezing everything with a false rigor mortis. And from that feeling of tension, came the release as everything became limp all at once. The body gave out and Ralsei let go of the ledge, hitting the floor almost immediately after he fell. Dry crackling filled the air as Ralsei laid silently on the floor, in aftershock.

The drop couldn’t have been more than two meters but when Ralsei looked up, he was on an entirely new floor. Bright, sanitizing white shone across him, casting a long shadow across the elegant stage floors. It pulled him up, inviting him into stand up, lulling him back to reality. In front of Ralsei was a wild Fountain, surrounded by a ring of blades, frozen in time and Kris stood next to it, wearing different clothes from what Ralsei remembered. Dark brown hair laid limp against their forehead, and they were slightly slouched over, carrying something in their hands.

“K-Kris… did you know the Fountain would be here? I could have sworn it was above us… did you hear me earlier? I was calling out your name.”

“Your book.”

“What?”

Kris beckoned him forward and put some kind of manual in his hands. Ralsei threw it aside, pages scattering across the floor.

“Worry about this later! We need to shut down the Fountain now! Swatch must have left his post while he was cleaning the Fountain safeguard. K-Kris, you don’t know this place like I do. The hallways don’t stay the same and you’ll get lost, trying to find this place again. I know you’re probably here to save Berdly, but we don’t have any time. This is the only time when the Fountain’s going to be out in the open like this and left unguarded. I – “

“You haven’t looked at the book I gave you.”

“What are you talking about? That’s not important! Kris?” Angrily, Ralsei grabbed Kris’s shoulder and gave them a frantic shake. “Come on, Kris! You’re the only person who can seal these things, so why aren’t you doing something!? I don’t want to stay here any longer. We have to leave!”

With a late realization, Ralsei laid a finger to the middle of Kris’s ribcage and prodded it just lightly enough to rustle the strange fabric. Like dead meat, nothing glowed behind it. He raised his head again and brushed the bangs away from Kris’s eyes, which stared back at him, beady and black… no different than a bird’s. Ralsei’s fingers ran cold. Around him, the pages of the book began to tremble and fold. Ralsei stepped back in fear as figures rose from the individual pages, arms and legs twisting into shape. Some were people he recognized: Lancer, a tall man named Rouxls, and a mockingly distorted version of himself, wearing a cloak and scarf like he had before. Other characters began to pop up all around him, until Ralsei was completely surrounded. The crackling of paper was indistinguishable from the crackling of the Fountain, as its flares hit the ground and reanimated old memories in an instant.

“So…” A voice erupted from above. “That’s how it’s done...” Swatch landed on the ground in front of the Fountain with a gust of air from his wings, pushing Ralsei backwards and onto the floor. He leaned forward and picked up the empty book cover from the ground.

“I've always known that you lot liked to move in groups, but I never imagined that only one of you possessed the ability to seal Fountains. Interesting."

Ralsei tried to stand back up, but Swatch swatted the empty book cover against him, knocking him back onto the floor. Ralsei groaned with pain.

“It may not be a dictionary, but my Lord did say that anything else would suffice.”

“What is this?”

“Your staff. Take a look around and see.”

Ralsei looked around at the motley crew of figures that grinned back at him. It was absurdly different from how Ralsei remembered them. Minor details have been changed, their heights were different, and the features on their face were just slightly out of place. The grinning Ralsei was the cruellest to look at, but it was how Berdly remembered him, given how little time they spent together.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?" Swatch circled around Ralsei like a hawk. "You finally earned your keep and now I am rewarding you with your own staff – a chance to make this your new home instead of constantly moaning about wanting to go back.” Swatch bent down to where Ralsei was sitting and tucked one feather’s finger underneath the bridge of his glasses. "I should have you know that I considered your proposal to join Castle Town quite earnestly. But listen to me very carefully, I do not look kindly upon those who turn their backs on me." His motionless gaze bore deep into the recesses of Ralsei's own. "And I most certainly do not tolerate people leaving their post."

“Just let me go. I-I’m no good as a butler. Um, you probably wouldn’t want me around anyway.”

“Oh no, little prince. You said it yourself. If you went back, you’d call your friends over. I’ve decided that it’s in the manor’s best interests to keep you here. But if you don’t want to join us at a rank befitting your title as prince, then I'm afraid I'll have to revoke your butler's rights...”

Swatch lifted Ralsei’s glasses off his face and crushed them in his hands, letting the broken shards hit the ground with a shatter. Through myopic eyes, Ralsei watched as the Fountain’s light hit the ground and made it glitter. 

“Your first task is to clean up the glass. And be careful now,” Swatch said softly. “You wouldn't want to cut yourself on the pieces.”

PLEASE READ CAREFULLY

Drug Test Consent Form

Student/Guardian Consent for Reasonable Suspicion Drug Test

Student Name: Berdly

I hereby consent to allow Hometown Hospital to take a soul serum sample and submit it for chemical analysis by the appointing authority of a licensed laboratory. I have been fully informed of the reason for this test and I understand what I am being tested for and the procedure involved. I consent to release the results of this test to my legal guardian(s), primary healthcare provider, and school administration and understand that it will become part of my medical and municipal substance record for five years.

I further understand that should I be unable to provide the samples, refuse to authorize this form, or falsify the results of the test, disciplinary action will be taken as deemed necessary by the current Director of Hometown Hospital.

Signed by ______________ on the day of _________________.

Current Medications (Prescription & Non-prescription, print below):

Berdly wandered into the hospital unceremoniously.

He slapped a piece of paper on the receptionist’s desk and sat down in one of the waiting room chairs, backpack on the floor.

Time stood still in places like hospitals and airports. Despite the constant maintenance work being done around the building, the waiting room and receptionist’s desk remained untouched. They were timeless relics, focal points serving as the first region of contact between the hospital and the outside world, the places where Berdly called his father The Doctor and the places where he called The Doctor his father.

Berdly sat on one side of the room, and the receptionist sat on the other. He eyed the children’s desk toy with bored interest – the one where you push beads up and down a maze of metal bars. Berdly wondered what Swatch was doing right now. Was he cleaning the Fountain safeguard? With restless energy, Berdly began to imitate the motion, sweeping the metal lines with his feathered hands, and watching the dust coat his fingers. The receptionist, boasting a large mouth full of sharp teeth, turned to face him.

“So, Berdly. You’re here in the middle of a school day.”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, the weather outside is pretty nice. If you got time later, I’ll buy you a smoothie. I know the doc ain’t here today, so… hey, you seem a little on edge. Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“Are you delivering this for someone?”

“It’s for me.”

“Oh. Wow. You know, champ. I never thought I’d see you here for something like this. I thought you were supposed to be like, one of the good kids!”

Berdly clenched his beak at the word ‘champ’. The hospital was a place for standard operating procedures, consistent managerial distance, and UV-light sanitizing levels of blandness. The chronic pain in his chest did nothing to improve Berdly’s mood.

“Awe don’t leave me hanging, kid! I was just wondering. So how was school, anyhow?”

Berdly wasn’t privy to small talk while in the hospital. The Doctor had always advised against it, citing that when people became too close with their healthcare providers, problems became a matter of family, not ligands and receptors. Solutions became condescending when they came from someone you personally knew.

               “Familiarity relaxes the nerves of the brain; it tweaks the connections in the hippocampus and stirs memories at all the wrong times. Empathy rolls logic all the way to the back of the brain where it shouldn’t be. My point is, it’s bad practice to see your patients as your friends.”

               “Then how come you’re my doctor?”

               “We don’t have a choice. This town is too small.”

“Fine.” Berdly said. In a daze, he almost forgot that the receptionist had been talking to him. “School was fine.”

“Any girls you like? You know, I thought you and that Noelle girl might be cute together.”

Berdly fought hard against the urge to unleash biblical acts of wrath. “No,” he said with an aggressive politeness. “It’s not like that.”

“And what did she think about this whole testing thing?” The receptionist clicked a few keys on the computer and chuckled. “Wow kid. Serious stuff. Sleeping aids? You can’t even party on those.”

“It was for the garden. I used half a bottle of sleeping aids with a bucket of water to make some anti-bug water for the plants in our front yard. I read online that those little white bugs hate one of the chemicals that they put in there. Then all of a sudden, I had to go to school and well… you know.” The lies flowed out from Berdly’s mouth like invisible ink.

“Teacher found ‘em in your backpack.” The receptionist tapped at their computer mouse as they read over the email Toriel had written not too long ago.

“They’re not mine, by the way.”

The receptionist broke out into laughter. “You crack me up kid. Well, sit tight. You’ll pass the test with flying colours then, if you’re not doing anything else.”

Berdly kicked back his head and let his backpack slump on the ground beside him. Truthfully, he wasn’t worried about being tested for sleeping aids. More than twelve hours had passed since he last used them and whatever amount of it still remained in his system was far below the limit of detection. However, by sheer dumb luck, Toriel struck gold on another issue. To keep the pain in his chest at bay, Berdly took three headache relievers in the morning and while the receptionist probably wouldn’t know any better, the nurse certainly would. Berdly would have to get a physical examination for any potential injuries, and he didn’t have an excuse prepared for why the feathers running across his front were turning black.

“You get a list of stuff I have to get tested for, right? Can I see it?"

“Well, no. I'm supposed to get the doc to sign it first but he’s off for... Mmhmm. Some fancy conference according to my emails. Mr. Holiday’s clinical trial went really well.”

“I’m literally going to see what the tests are when I take them. Can’t I get the list now, just to know what I’m up for?”

“Awe shucks, kid. Fine. But you have to return it to me so I can get it signed.”

Berdly grabbed onto that sheet and made sure to read the entire document from top to bottom to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. Six tests were listed in total, with two corresponding to over-the-counter medications and three for far more serious chemicals that Berdly had only barely heard of. He had no idea why things like sleeping aids and headache medications were lumped in with that lot, but that was not his concern. The sixth test was what stood out to Berdly in particular.

“Wait, I thought I was only getting tested for five of these things? What’s the flu test for?”

“Complementary testing because, uh… we do that for all birds?”

“Awesome.” Berdly scowled. “Racial profiling.”

“Why so grumpy today, kid? You mad at someone? Well, I can’t blame ya. This is probably the longest the doc has ever left town for. In the meantime, don’t worry about disappointing anybody while they’re away. These LFAs never give a false positive, I guarantee ya!”

“Great.”

“You can go into the empty room next to Mr. Holiday’s. The nurse is out for lunch, so I’ll be getting the LFAs ready for you. You just have to sit tight and when I come back, I'll need you to take out your soul so I can get the sample –“

Cold sweat built up behind the front of Berdly’s shirt. “Woah woah! I am NOT doing that! Can’t I just do these myself?!?”

“Oh, it’s just protocol. Listen kid, it’s really quick and your results are gonna turn out fine! I know you teenagers are super self-conscious about whipping your soul out for doctor’s appointments but it’s really not as big of a deal as you would think. Wait no, that came out wrong. What I meant was – ”

“No. Absolutely not… Can’t you just let me do it? I’m just collecting a sample, it’s not like I need a technician’s license to do that!”

Do you even have a technician’s license? Berdly thought bitterly, with an intense anger that came to him out of nowhere. His thoughts dripped out of his brain like disgusting, toxic waste. Why does anyone let you handle anything? You never even went to college.

Stiff tension spiked along Berdly’s spine as his hands clenched the hem of his sleeves. The brightness of the fluorescent lights was unbearable, and the hum of the AC above him was too loud. Something flowed through him, starting with the dull thumping of his soul against the inside of his chest, and ending with the pinpricks of cold along his arm.

Lie. The receptionist is an idiot. Familiarity relaxes the senses and empathy rolls logic all the way to the back of the brain. What’s five more tricks just to make it to the finish line?

“Listen,” Berdly began. “We’re like family friends, right? You’ve had dinner at my house like a billion times, and you’re there more often than my own grandparents. We’re not that close, but I just know you enough for it to be incredibly weird. Normally, my dad would be the one to do it and it’s just… with him gone, and the nurse on break, can’t I be the one to do it?”

“Awe come on, listen. It’s protocol, I –“

“You said it yourself, I’m a good kid. So how come I can’t just do it in an empty room and leave the sample sticks on the table?”

Berdly waited with bated breath. These were peculiar times, and it was almost a blessing that none of the actual medical professionals were in the building. The Doctor didn’t tolerate any nonsense and neither did the nurse, but the receptionist… the one who couldn’t even refuse a dinner if offered…

“Look kid… you’re here for a specific type of test. This ain’t just a flu test. Truth is, I’ve been hearing some whacky stuff about you around town.”

“You’re the type to believe anything you hear?”

“No! Of course not! I don’t believe any of it. You’re totally a good kid, I just… oh man, okay let me think.” The receptionist put their head in their hands, sighing. “Look, I’m just following protocol. I believe you but we really need to have someone in the room with you to make sure you're getting the LFAs complete. But then again..."

“But what?"

“Jeez, this is confusing. Okay wait here.”

“Sure.”

“Actually, no. Wait hold on… go wait in that room next to Mr. Holiday’s. You’re supposed to be a patient. I shouldn’t have let you sit in the lobby for so long.”

Berdly watched in guilty satisfaction as the receptionist’s integrity began to crumble. Pushing him past the inner door to the patient hall, the receptionist quickly scuttered off, leaving Berdly alone in the room next to Rudy’s. In private, Berdly let out a staggered breath he had been holding in and wondered what the next step of his plan was. He could pretend to take them but the nurse would likely just call him back again and say that the tests didn't work for some reason. However, if he took them, the results would eventually give away that he had been taking headache relievers and that would also warrant another visit to the hospital.

God, it never ends. Berdly groaned into his hands. He was supposed to be happy that he got out of another problem, but it was with guilty conscience that Berdly knew he wasn’t proud of all the tricks he had been pulling. But what if I just sat back and let it happen?

Berdly’s imagination ran wild. His father was going to be back in a few days. Would he come home early to yell at him after the results from the test came in? Berdly scrunched his face at the thought. No, his father didn’t actually yell that much because he was always too tired for it. It was more along his style to send him a long, strongly worded note. And then what?

To calm himself down, Berdly thought of other things. He thought about Swatch again and wondered what he was doing. Berdly imagined himself wandering down those beautiful halls again, butler clad in black behind him, and feeling the swing of pearlescent white sleeves billowing behind him. He began to relax. The rapid beating of his soul died down and his headache began to fade. A phantom wind travelled through the notches of his wings, gliding across the feathers like silk. He daydreamed of drinking a smoothie somewhere next to a piano while Noelle played the theme of Dragon Blazers: Arctic Cruiser, eyes closing as he let the tired weight of eyelids ease them shut. The realization didn’t strike at first. It didn’t strike Berdly that such daydreams were having such a profound effect on him until the sound of Noelle’s voice from outside the hall broke through his ears and the entire daydream started to crumble in front of him. The headache came back in full force, and like the wax and wane of tides against the hometown shore, Berdly felt himself crashing down onto the floor, physically sick. The pain in his chest was unbearable, but he knew he couldn’t take another headache reliever now.

“Here to see Mr. Holiday? Hey, aren’t you supposed to be in school right now?”

“It’s my lunch break. I actually came to see my friend. Um, is he here?”

Hastily, Berdly stood back up and prayed to the kidney diagram on the wall that the receptionist was going to tell Noelle to just go back to school. He paced restlessly around the small room, thinking of what to say when she finally confronted him. In the reflection of a glass container of tongue compressors, Berdly checked on his appearance. Two tired eyes stared back at him, visibly nervous. He ran a hand over the top of his head and did his best to get his breathing under control.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

Berdly whipped his head backwards as Noelle peeked through the open door, which Berdly didn’t even think of closing. “Ahh, Noelle! Uh, I really… don’t have anything to say. I was just, I don’t even know.”

“That’s a first.”

She grabbed him by the shoulder of his shirt and dragged him out into the hallway towards a guest bench. With a quick push, Berdly was sitting in front of Noelle who looked down at him sternly, and with her arms crossed. She didn’t look pleased.

“So. Is it true?”

Berdly looked around the hall sheepishly. “Um, I actually don’t know which ‘thing’ you’re referring to, so my answer is Schrödinger. Because until you actually reveal what you’re talking about, my true answer could be either – ack!”

“Stop that!” She took out an empty pretzel wrapper and swatted the top of his head, which didn’t do much, really. Berdly shook off the excess crumbs that fell on his head. “Stop that thing you always do!”

“What THING?”

“That thing where you avoid the question if you can’t answer it! I’m talking about the part where you said a bunch of mean things to Kris and Susie in the hallway this morning! Of course I don’t believe the rumours that you apparently… ah, nevermind. I don’t believe them, by the way. I made everyone sign you a card I made at the start of lunch to say sorry.”

She pressed a cardstock paper full of various signatures. Berdly could tell that some were clearly forged by Noelle’s left handwriting in some attempt to make Berdly feel less bad, but he was too exhausted to care.

“Uhh, thanks for your support?”

“Answer my question!”

“Okay. I didn’t actually mean to say all of that.”

“Oh my God! So you did say all that mean stuff this morning! Hey Berdly, as long as it left your mouth, you said it.”

“I'm sorry?”

“You should go back to school and say that to Kris and Susie. Not me.” Noelle looked nervous.

“Wait hold on,” Berdly stood up from the bench to meet Noelle’s height. “Kris? You of all people want me to say sorry to Kris? Did you donate half your brain cells to charity or something?”

This time, it was Noelle’s turn to sit on the bench, hands tucked neatly to her sides. “You know, I think I’m going to make amends with everyone, starting with you. I’m not going to sugarcoat it. It’s been eating me up inside.”

“What!?” Berdly was fuming. After all the chaos he went through just to get Noelle out of trouble, she was going to give up her half of the ruse. “Oh my god, please tell me you didn’t tell Toriel about Dark Worlds! Do you know how much trouble you’re going to get into for attempted battery? Kris and Susie are your witnesses! You’re setting it up so that if they ever need to blackmail you with something, they have it!”

Noelle looked up at Berdly in shock at his word choice. Under the fluorescent lighting of the hospital, he looked feral, with dark under-eyes made more pronounced by the bright reflection bouncing off his eyes. He had changed drastically since the last time she saw him. He looked unwell in every possible way – mentally, physically, and spiritually, if that was a thing.

“I came here to say sorry to you too. I um, I know things went really out of hand. And it was my fault. A lot of it was.”

“No, it was all Kris’s fault. Let’s just go with that.”

“Stop trying to make me feel better Berdly. You said it yourself, I did it. Besides, you’re the one who looks like shit right now.” Berdly was taken aback by the sudden crudeness of Noelle’s language. “I’m here to tell you that I don’t expect you to forgive me but you have to stop this rivalry thing you and Kris have going on at school. It’s making everyone upset. I know it’s weird to hear me saying this right now, but they’ve had it pretty hard since Asriel left for college and I thought you of all people would understand what it’s like to have no one around at home.”

Berdly scrunched his forehead.

“So, after I saw that video someone took of you saying all that stuff about Asriel to Kris, I just… couldn’t believe it. I’ll be honest, you’re annoying sometimes. But you’re never openly malicious like that. What did you say again?” Noelle reached into her backpack for her phone and let the clip play.

>>> 1:24

“I bet you thought that if you could win this, you could feel like you’re somewhat on equal footing. You could avoid having to shrivel away in embarrassment when he comes and realizes that he’s outgrown the need for you.”

Berdly cringed at the sound of his own voice saying those terrible things. A week ago, none of that would have left his mouth. “So, you know it happened. Why did you even ask?”

“Because I wanted to hear you acknowledge it.”

“…”

“This is all because of what I did last week, isn’t it?” Noelle looked down to the floor. “I’m so sorry.” Something wet fell on the floor next to her feet. “I kept hoping that I’d wake up and it’d be Tuesday, and I could do it all over again. You know, I wish we never went to the library that day. I-I wish I just ditched you at school and pretended like I forgot about that group project meeting. You’d be mad at me, but it… it wouldn’t be like t-this.”

Berdly sat down next to her on the bench and said nothing.

“And I kept telling Susie that something is wrong with Kris, but it’s like she’s spellbound by how cool they are, all of a sudden. I have no idea what to say to get her to believe me. It’s like… it’s like I’m making all this up in my head. So, I came to school, thinking ‘okay girl, you got this. It’s going to be a good day.’ And then I saw you walk into the classroom.” Noelle grabbed the front of her shirt and wiped her face furiously. “You looked like complete shit, Berdly. There’s no other way to put it. And I know it’s because of me.”

“It's not really."

“My point is: can you please just tell me what happened? Let me fix it.”

"..."

Noelle huffed in frustration, standing up suddenly and marching towards her father’s room.

“Wait, okay okay!” Berdly ran his hand over the top of his head again to soothe himself. “Look, it’s complicated… God, how do I articulate this? I’m a goddamn dictionary, why can’t I find the words? So, a lot has happened while you were gone but I’ll start with Kris, since you’re such a fan of Kris now…”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Whatever. Kris’s been psychologically harassing me with some magic stunt they've been pulling. Have you gotten any weird powers after you left the Dark World? I don't know... can you summon mice or speak to trees or anything?"

"Erm, no?"

"Well they DEFINITELY have something going on. And in a way, I do too? I know this sounds absolutely crazy but Kris... hears things. Last week, I said something and Kris could tell that I wasn't using the Oxford Comma. I don't even know how you could hear something like that, like what the hell!?? How does Kris even know what an Oxford Comma is??? But it's true! And then there was that time Kris went up to the board and wrote down the entire expanded decimal for this number. It had to have been fifty digits, and Ms. Alphys even checked. They were all correct. Kris stood there like they were getting bad phone reception or something and they jotted down the numbers in groups of three and four. You know, like how someone writes down a number when it's being read to them."

"Wait, that decimal story is true? I mean, I heard it from Susie but I thought she was exaggerating it."

"It's true! Everything is true! And worse are these damn things Kris keeps whispering into my ear during class. Like I said, Kris hears things. Prophetic things."

"Predictions?"

Berdly shivered. "Yeah. Kris told me that a leaf was going to fall on the window and make a noise. Five minutes later, it did. O-or that time a bird came and crashed into the tree outside. Kris described exactly what it looked like, and told me that unless I went over to the window right then, in the middle of class while Ms. Alphys was teaching, and threw a bit of lunch on the ground for it to eat, it would hit the tree and die. I checked afterschool. It wasn't moving. Kris was right. And then..." Berdly tapped his foot on the ground nervously. "Last week, just before I left for home, Kris told me that this week, something bad was going to happen. And when it did, they were going to find my body unconscious in the back of the spare classroom. I mean, what the hell... who's telling them all this stuff? Those damn predictions... Kris told me a billion more things, one for every time Ms. Alphys turned around to write something on the board. I mean, damn it! Kris and Susie both, they’ve been pushing me to the limit. They want me to tell them where the other Fountain is but I –“

Noelle grabbed the hem of Berdly’s shirt and shook him back and forth. “What do you mean there’s another Fountain!?”

Berdly frowned. “Let go of my shirt.”

“It's dangerous, Berdly! You know where it is?”

He swatted Noelle’s arm away. “It’s none of your business. God, why are these stupid Fountains anything that anybody ever cares about? Can you just listen to me without worrying about the dumb thing? Can’t you guys actually worry about me for once!? I don’t want to apologize to Kris and Susie for what I said. I know it sounds terrible, but they’ve only made my life worse. Yeah, you did the initial bit, but you want to know why I look like ‘absolute shit’ according to you? It’s because your new best friend Susie and her best friend Kris have been making my life absolute hell! That’s what’s been happening while you were gone!”

Berdly took a step closer to Noelle.

“I know Kris made you do it. I watched it happen. Don’t you dare tell me you're going to let Kris win.”

Berdly’s breathing became quick without him realizing. His fists were clenched, and Berdly wasn’t even sure of what he had planned to do with them. He quickly released his grip. Noelle looked scared.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“No no, please don’t cry. I had no idea what happened, I just lost myself there. I get these aches and my mood just–“

“I-I’m really sorry!”

Right then, the door to the hall cracked open and Berdly shut up immediately. The receptionist walked towards them carrying a small tray with six little plastic cassettes. Noelle quietly wiped the moisture from her face and the receptionist just let out a long sigh.

“Okay kids. So here’s what we’re going to do. Berdly. You can take these inside the room BUT, make sure you actually take them. Noelle, you’re a good girl. You make sure he actually gets it done. And I’m just… going to go back to the front desk. Put them back on the table when you're done. I want to respect your privacy, but just don't get me in trouble okay? You guys are straight A students so don't cheat me here."

Dropping the tray onto the bench, the receptionist quickly scurried off like they had done something wrong. Noelle looked at the tray of tests and back at Berdly, demanding an explanation. Berdly knew that the lunch period was almost going to pass, and those LFAs were still sitting on the tray. Noelle was going to be late for school if she didn’t leave soon, but this was Berdly’s chance. Biting his tongue, Berdly prepared to make the second biggest mistake of life.

“Noelle,” he said panicked. “I’ll forgive you for everything. Absolutely everything, and I’ll even apologize to Kris, for real. But in exchange, I need you to take these LFAs.”

Noelle’s eyes grew wide. “Are you serious?? Why do you need me to take them, unless…”

“Don’t look at me like that. Sleeping aids are as harmless as children's multivitamins. You can’t even develop a dependency on them! They literally don’t contain any addictive chemicals!”

“I can’t... I can’t do that –”

“I swear it’s fine! And I promise, I’ll do everything I said. Look, Ms. Toriel told me that I would be missing tryouts to come do this, but if I passed the test, I would be allowed to compete, since she assumes that I would have made it past tryouts anyway. This is going to ruin my life if I test positive for something so dumb as this. And by the way, how did tryouts go?” Berdly hoped that it would bring up the mood, but Noelle wasn’t having any of it.

“Kris made it. So did Susie, for our class. But seriously Berdly, are you really – ”

“Wait, WHAT!?! SUSIE!?!?”

“We were studying together. It came down to the two of us, and I let Susie win so she could see what the Spelling Bee was like. Berdly, why does it even matter so much to you? Just take your stupid LFA like you’re supposed to.”

Berdly shook his head. “My father’s going to be so angry. You don’t get it.”

Noelle looked down at the tray of tests and back at him. “You know what? Fine. I’ll take them.” She wiped something off of her eye and crossed her arms. “But I’m going to need you to do one more thing.”

“What is it?”

“You HAVE to promise me that… whatever this thing you’re dealing with is, you’ll tell someone. Not me, or Susie, or Kris. Like, actually tell someone. Get help from someone who can actually help you. You’re not an idiot Berdly. I’m sure you can find someone. If this is the only way to get you to start acting right, then fine! I’ll help you fake your drug test. But you have to name ONE person who you can email, or like -"

“I’ll call him. I promise.” Simultaneously, a weight had been lifted off of Berdly’s shoulders and another one, equally as big, dropped in its place. Noelle refused to look at him in the eye. “Um, I know I don't say this often but um, thanks for helping me."

“No, don’t thank me for this.” She looked at the tray of tests and grabbed them all with one hand. “Just go home Berdly.”

               Groceries are in the fridge and cupboard.

               I have no doubt that you’ll be able to succeed at tryouts. I’ll be back in time to watch you

               compete in the Spelling Bee. Call, if there’s an emergency.

               Until then, take care. Have fun at school.

               - Father

55 Mulberry Lane was a minimalist’s dream. 

It was also Berdly's nightmare. He had seen harsher isolation chambers in movies.

Berdly tossed his backpack on the empty living room couch and made a beeline for the kitchen, where the home phone was perched on the wall. It wasn’t strictly necessary for Berdly to call using the home phone, but he knew that on his father’s work phone, there were a select few numbers that could bypass the ‘Do Not Disturb’ settings: one belonged to the Hometown Hospital Emergency Room, and the other belonged to their kitchen.

“Hello. You’ve reached the Director of Hometown General Hospital, Registered with the Board of Medical Oncology and Family Practice.”

Berdly gulped as he prepared what he was trying to say. He tapped his foot nervously.

“Administrative, business, and research meetings with the Director are by appointment only. All other inquiries can be directed to the Hometown Hospital Reception Office. For medical emergencies, contact Hometown Police Emergency Services or walk-in at the front desk, where further instructions will be given... Sorry, but the person you are calling is not available right now. Record your message at the sound of the – “

He shoved the phone back onto its spot on the wall. The note in his pocket felt heavier than his cellphone by a factor of ten. What on earth counted as an emergency to a man who saw cancer patients on the regular and routinely spoke to people who had entire monsterpedia pages dedicated just to their childhood? Berdly paced around the kitchen table, frustrated. He couldn't live it down if he began his call by telling his father that he had a bad day at school, but what else was he supposed to start with? The news that he took a drug test during school hours because he had been misusing that bottle of sleeping aids he gave him? Alternatively, he could get straight to the point and tell his father that magic was real and Berdly had found himself in deep trouble because growing in his soul right now was some kind of raging tumour that was going to kill him by the end of the week if he couldn't get it to stop spreading. Something hot began to spread across Berdly's face, and it wasn't just embarrassment, it was shame. 

Berdly could feel his soul beat rise and his legs buckling underneath him. He clutched his stomach as it growled, realizing that in the middle of the whole hospital errand, he had forgotten to eat lunch. Noelle's cookie from that morning was still in his pocket. Carefully, he pulled it out.

You promised Noelle you would call him.

Berdly's breaths grew heavy as he fumbled with the wrapper, unable to get it open.

Okay, call first. Eat later.

The phone's volume was turned all the way to its highest setting. Berdly could hear the automated woman's voice loud and clear:

“Hello. You’ve reached the Director of Hometown General Hospital, Registered with the Board of Medical Oncology and Family Practice. Administrative, business, and research meetings with the Director are by appointment only."

Berdly felt his hands start to grow clammy with sweat. It felt like he was exploiting a loophole to be able to reach the voicemail of such an important man. The Doctor should not have been receiving calls from the likes of Berdly. What did he do to earn the right to talk to him right when he was about to shake hands with someone famous in another city?

"All other inquiries can be directed to the Hometown Hospital Reception Office. For medical emergencies, contact Hometown Police Emergency Services or walk-in at the front desk, where further instructions will be given."

Something stung at the back of Berdly's eye. Somewhere out in another time zone, his father was about to meet with the nation’s most highly regarded medical doctors to discuss the progress of their new therapeutic, and who knows, maybe months down the line he’d be receiving an award for it. Waiting for him at home was nobody important - a bluebird of misfortune, given the events of the day.

“Sorry, but the person you are calling is not available right now. Record your message at the sound of the beep.”

Berdly braced himself for the call to start.

“H-hey, umm I really need to tell you something. It's an emergency but not urgent. No, what I mean is, I know you’re busy but um, are you busy?”

Of course he’s busy, Berdly scolded himself. What the hell are you going to say next?

Berdly slammed the phone back onto the receiver and sat down on the kitchen floor, hands cold with hunger. The world around him spun like water down the drain, and Berdly was surprised to find himself reaching into his pocket and taking out his pen. Without thinking, he took the sharp end of the Fountain pen and breathed a sigh of relief as it tore easily through the packaging of Noelle’s cookie. Berdly ripped into it again and relished in the way that it glided across the plastic, sharper than talons. The cookie crumbled in his grasp, but Berdly hardly noticed. He broke off a piece and popped it into his mouth.

You don’t actually mean it when you say I can tell you anything. It’s not like you to keep an open mind. 

Berdly crawled up from his place on the floor and slouched over the kitchen table. Reaching into his pocket again, Berdly took out his father’s note and pressed it flat against the table. Angrily, he wondered what would have happened if his call went through. A lump of cookie rose back up his throat as Berdly remembered that Toriel had sent that email to him hours ago, and if The Doctor checked his emails at all, he would already know about it by now. Berdly was too late to tell him anything meaningful. The damage had been done, and it was likely irreparable.

You probably assumed the worst already. You always do.

Berdly held the pen tightly and touched the tip to the corner of the note. Noelle’s cookie left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth, though he supposed it could have been the bile from his stomach rising to meet his mouth, where he had been spewing lies all day. The light of the kitchen cast a shadow over the table, and he had no idea what was happening as something warm quickly replaced the ache in his chest. The feathers along his arm grew dark and perched up in a single-file line. It was an angry feeling, but it was warm and inviting. Berdly could feel the hunger from a lunch not eaten fade from the forefront of his mind. Fingers that were previously cold became revived with life, and in the vertigo of his frustration, Berdly tore the note in half, and then into quarters.

Eventually, he threw the pen aside and clawed at the little shreds himself, not noticing the faint dust that coated the inner side of his palm as he accidently cut himself on the pieces.

He kept going, not caring about who he was disappointing: Noelle, his father, or himself.

Groceries are in the fridge and cupboard.

I have no doubt that you’ll be able to

compete in the Spelling Bee.

Until then, take care.

- Father

Groc

I have no

compete in the

Until then, take care.

- Father

Groc

I have no

compe

Unt

-

c

Un

-

Chapter Text

Berdly sent at 11:13 PM Monday

>>> Okay Kris.

>>> I know your mom used to be a guidance counsellor, so you’re probably used to hearing a genre of apologies beginning with “I’d like to rectify my mistake” and ending with “allow me to take full responsibility over my actions”.

>>> Now, I COULD write something of that caliber, but let’s be honest, you wouldn’t be able to appreciate my linguistic craftsmanship.

>>> Ever since Asriel left, you’ve been a life-sized vector for boredom and stupidity, wandering around by yourself like some kind of suburban ghoul in front of my neighbourhood and probably the whole town. And, since your mind works in such predictably simple ways, I can guess what’s going on up there.

>>> You’re wondering what Asriel’s reaction will be at the end of the week. He’s used to hanging out with fancy university people and now he’s coming home to you. The truth is it doesn’t matter. You could win that Spelling Bee and become an honours student like me overnight, but if he really wanted to find something to nitpick, there’s nothing you can do about it. And while I have my doubts about YOU, I don’t doubt that your family are better and nicer people. Obviously, Asriel doesn’t nitpick. He’s going to be thrilled to see you no matter what because that’s just the kind of guy he is.

>>> So, I take back what I said about him this morning.

[Message Read at 11:19 PM, Monday]

Kris stared at the lukewarm apology as the evening crawled towards midnight. Monday didn’t turn out like they’d expected, and they had gotten no closer to resolving the two-Fountain problem. Despite it, the red canary sat soundly in its usual place inside a birdcage, untroubled. Something sinister filled the air.

“It all works out in the end. Don’t do anything unless we agreed upon it.”

Kris hovered a thumb over the reply box, wondering what to say, and curious to know how Berdly would respond if Kris wrote something back. But slowly, they took their hands off the phone and set it aside, screen still glowing white. Frustrated, Kris fell backwards onto the mattress, eyes closed and stinging with the strain of staring at a bright screen inside a dark room.

“I didn’t agree to do it last time.”

“And that’s why Noelle did it. To keep it off your conscience.”

“No,” Kris whispered quietly, so that Toriel wouldn’t hear their voice from her bedroom. “I don’t think it did.”

The moonlight outside was faint but Kris could still see the shape of their room clearly by the crack of the window. Old clothes were strewn about the floor and two half-empty bottles of water sat stale by the corner of the room. Dry air smelled faintly of dirty laundry and dust covered the floor everywhere except the path from the door to Kris’s bed, and from the bed to the wagon, where a quick remedy laid ready for them every morning. Kris knew that without it, Tuesday would be impossible to manage. Wednesday would be even harder. And Kris didn’t even want to imagine what the Spelling Bee would be like on Thursday if they went in on their own. Even Susie had Noelle there to help her. Kris had no one.

“You could just study, you know.” Berdly’s nasally voice conjured at the forefront of Kris’s thoughts like an unwanted guest. His face would be pressed flat, and his beak would stick out of his face like it did whenever he was about to make a scathing observation. “You think those cheats will last you forever? Don’t make me laugh, Kris! Some of us actually have to work for what we want!!”

Kris reached over to the phone and tapped something in – brief, but straightforward. It left nothing for interpretation, just a single question involving a house, studying materials, and a point in time. Their finger fidgeted over the send button, a feather’s width away from making what could possibly be the largest embarrassment of the century. Surely, if they were close enough to the finish line already, they could handle the rest… keep a careful eye out and convince Berdly to give ‘it’ up in exchange for a truce. Maybe Kris didn’t need the canary’s assistance anymore. It was expiring milk that left a poor aftertaste and made the stomach hurdle – advice that was losing its potency fast and beginning to sour everything else in Kris’s life.

“No.” A booming voice bore deep into the recesses of their mind, numbing their senses like ice on an open wound. “You need my help, stronger than ever.”

Kris’s finger dangled above the phone screen, locked in position over the send button. And like everything else that they attempted to do over the past few weeks, nothing came of it. Kris watched idly as the screen turned black, taking Berdly’s name away with it.

Falling back towards the mattress, Kris let the usual familiarity take the reigns.

Susie sent at 10:12 AM Tuesday

>>> Woah second time this week.

>>> You don’t think the blackouts are being caused by… you know?

>>> We need to hurry up and get Berdly to tell us where the other one is because this is getting crazy, and people are starting to notice. We’re meeting at the water fountain afterschool.

>>> Tap your foot on the ground twice if you got my text.

>>> Nice.

Susie sent at 2:15 PM Tuesday

>>> Dude, you heard what your mom asked Ms. Alphys in the hallway during the math quiz right? Berdly didn’t come to school and like, if she’s asking Ms. Alphys then that means Berdly definitely didn’t get a doctor’s note. Right?

>>> That means he’s skipping. I bet he’s in the you know what right now.

>>> I asked Noelle if he was sick because she was with him at lunch yesterday, right? She said she wanted to tell me something important afterschool. I’ll let you know if it’ll help our mission.

>>> Okay dude, put your phone away if you’re going to jump in your chair like that. I can literally see you sweating. Ms. Alphys is gonna make you read our texts out loud if she catches you on your phone in class.

>>> OMG KRIS

>>> STOP TURNIGN AROUDN WHEN I TEXT YOU JUST PUT YOUR PHONE AWAY

Susie sent at 2:43 PM Tuesday

>>> Okay super quick I know i said that we’d meet by the ‘water fountain’ after school, but it’s kinda your fault that I have to do all this actual studying. You know, because YOU MADE ME TRY OUT FOR THE SPELLING BEE

>>> Anyway, Noelle wants me to meet with her at the library right after school so I’m going to be late.

>>> Okay okay calm down, jeez. I can see your little text bubble go up and down. It will only be a few minutes I swear. I’ll tell Noelle I study better at nighttime or something. Like, lizards are nocturnal and think better after the sun is down.

>>> I learned that word yesterday. Noelle said Berdly might not even know that word because he likes studying all the nouns instead.

>>> Maybe Berdly was right. This does feel pretty freaking cool.

>>> And everyone’s rooting for us to beat him. We’re like, heroes of the regular world too.

>>> I just wish he were there to watch us totally crush everyone at tryouts. I bet we could have wiped the smirk off his face for good.

Susie sent at 6:00 PM Tuesday

>>> Kris, who were you with in Cyber World after we split up?

Susie sent at 7:12 PM Tuesday

>>> Hey, answer me

>>> You didn’t meet anyone along the way, right?

[Message Read at 7:13 PM, Tuesday]

“You don’t seem to be burning up. Are you feeling tired, maybe?”

Kris’s head lobbed over to one side as they stared at the closet door, where the birdcage had been wrapped in dozens of sweaters of shoved to the very back. In anger, Kris remembered throwing their phone at it, and mom had heard the noise.           

               “Oh! Kris, are you alright?”

               Kris swore under their breath and quickly tossed the birdcage behind the closet door and began to cover it in old laundry. Susie’s last words to them were still glowing next to them on the floor, and Kris felt something dry start to burn at the back of their throat.

               Slowly, Kris slumbered across the room, practically crawling, but on two feet. One inch followed another as Kris awkwardly pushed their body forward, running on fumes after the engine had been forcefully ripped out in a fit of rage. And just after Kris shut the closet door, the main door to the room opened, revealing a worried Toriel, still dressed in her pajamas.

“Oh Kris, look at the state of your room.” Toriel’s voice reached out across the thick haze of Kris’s thoughts, bringing them back to reality. She pressed a warm hand to Kris’s hair, flattening it back and brushing out the tangles between her large fingers. “I’ll help you clean it out, alright? We certainly don’t want Asriel to think a whirlwind had been sleeping in his bed while he was away!”

“Is he going to be upset?”

“Well, I think he’ll understand,” she said solemnly. “I know you missed him very much. Is that why you’re feeling unwell again?”

“…”

“My child,” Toriel said. Her voice lowered to a deep and soothing tone. “Is there something on your mind? I’m listening.”

“…”

“Shh, you can tell me.”

Kris felt something sting at the back of their eye. “Nothing.”

Toriel leaned in and pressed a kiss to Kris’s forehead. “I know – a warm cup of chamomile ought to send you off to sleep.”

“No… not thirsty.”

“Hmm… you know, I think it will be best if you stayed home tomorrow. How does that sound?”

“It’s in the closet.”

Toriel looked confused. “What is?”

“I-I need it. It’s in there.” Kris bit their tongue for saying that out loud, but their headache was mind-numbing, and Kris reached for it, almost by instinct.

Toriel walked briskly to the closet door, not stopping to pick up the old garbage that was strewn around the floor. “What should I be looking for?”

Kris instantly regret having said anything. “T-top shelf,” they lied.

By a narrow escape, Toriel leaned forward and grabbed something at the top, closing the door behind her without ever glancing at what laid right below, next to her feet, and covered in old sweaters.

“Kris, these are…” Toriel looked at the old bottle of kid’s gummies that Asriel used to take before bed. Such harmless little things. “They might be a little stale from being here for so long. Let me get you something else instead.”

Kris sighed a breath of relief until Toriel stopped in the doorway. She turned the bottle over in her hands.

“Is this because of Berdly? Is that why you’re not feeling well?”

“No.”

The bear-shaped candies stuck to each other as Toriel rocked them in her hand, listening to the way they thumped softly against the sides. Large, rounded letters decorated the front, and under the warm light of the hallway, it was colourful and bright, as all things for children were – gummies, soft gels, and syrups alike. But Toriel knew that the list didn’t end there. People became older, and with that came insulin injections, complex therapeutics, and medical-grade extracts pressed into individual units by a large metal machine that required special engineers to operate. They rattled like a snake inside their container when you gave it the slightest tip, and the cap was sharp along its circumference, fresh out the factory and sealed with the same industrial material used for pipette tips and medical syringes. That black and white sans-serif font on the bottle that Berdly carried seared itself into Toriel’s memory the moment she picked it up from the hallway floor.

A child’s first lie was a milestone.

It demonstrated the maturation of intelligence from baby to toddler. It showed that a person knew what others thought about them, how their actions affected the knowledge of others, and how to use these facts to subvert the truth.

And then, at a certain age, children reached other milestones. They became well-spoken for themselves, replaced their soft cotton tees for coats of navy blue, and sometimes grew taller than their own parents, as Asriel did. They knew words from every page of the dictionary and actually used them. Toriel didn’t notice the difference at first but in retrospect, all the clues were there. His feathers were developing hues darker than before, and his eyes were slightly hollow, a spitting image of his father. His gaze followed you unwaveringly where you walked, undistracted by the motivational posters on the wall, and he sat firm in his seat with a stubborn arrogance, dead set on proving that he was right. Toriel cursed herself for being tricked by the mirage: children could look and sound years more mature than they actually were. That didn’t mean they had the wisdom nor intelligence of an adult.

Toriel looked back at Kris.

“You can tell me the truth,” she said. “Is something bothering you –“

“Why wasn’t he at school today?” Two feral eyes peered from the corner of the room as Kris’s head peeked out of the covers, gaze sharp with focus. Berdly’s extracurriculars were a mystery too crucial to their mission to leave unaddressed. Speculation required a scaffold to work off of.

“I’m afraid I don’t have the answer to that.”

Pupils wide and open, Kris sucked in every bit of light available from the dim room, dark as the night outside. Toriel had an answer. She had to. She was the principal, and she was supposed to know. However, Kris didn’t have the chance to redo this conversation until the lucky phrase hit. Like all people, Kris only had one chance and they blew it.

“Alright. I know you’re concerned about him, he’s a fellow classmate and I know you two are both working very hard to prepare for the Spelling Bee, but it wouldn’t be so bad to give Berdly a little space. He’s… going through something very difficult right now. I’m sure you understand.”

“…”

“You just make sure to rest up so that you can go to the Spelling Bee on Thursday. I’m sure he will be very grateful to see you and Susie there to support each other. I’ve been hearing the chatter, and everyone is excited to see you all compete at the same time.”

Toriel picked the bottle back up and made her way back to the edge of the doorway.

“Kris, do you have anything you want to tell me before I go to sleep?”

“… No.”

Kris's eyes stared at the pinprick of red peeking through the gap of the closet door. It was so faint, you had to know what you were looking for in order to catch it. Toriel didn’t seem to notice the voice that accompanied its flash of crimson glow. She was oblivious to what was going on in the very room she was in.

“You need it,” A voice whispered to them across the room. “More than ever.”

“Well then, I’ll be in the other room if you need me.” Quietly, Toriel left, closing the door behind her. “Good night.”

Berdly watched the kitchen clock as it slowly spilled past 2AM.

He knew that in his father’s timezone, the Do Not Disturb on his phone was going to be lifted in just another hour. Unless Berdly said something now, he wouldn’t have another chance to explain himself before those email notifications got to his father first. Resting on the table was Berdly’s own cell phone, carefully set so that it would only receive calls from a single number, and that number hadn’t called yet. Berdly still had time.

Coffee dripped down the sides of the pot, staining the white marble counters with a narcotic filth that Berdly couldn’t clean no matter how hard he scrubbed. Right now, however, he had other priorities. He leaned anxiously against the side of the kitchen wall where the home phone was, careful not to say the wrong thing.

“Hello. You’ve reached the Director of Hometown General Hospital, Registered with the Board of Medical Oncology and Family Practice –”

Berdly slapped the phone back on its stand, frustrated. He wished there was some time travel machine where a person could have the same conversation over and over again until they found out what the right words were.

Dictionaries and thesauruses littered the floor, but Berdly hadn’t been studying for the Spelling Bee. Papers were strewn about, covered in scratches called “words”. The sharp tip of his fountain pen dug into the paper like flesh, and left the pages bleeding with dark, black ink. It damaged the floors and stuck to his feathers like thick tar. And in the midst of the caffeine-fueled mania, Berdly paced around, running his hands across the top of his head and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

               “You barely took any of my suggestions. This essay is atrocious.”

               “I did. I just didn’t know what you wanted, exactly.”

               “And what, you wanted step-by-step instructions on how to do your essay? Next time, don’t bother me with questions about your homework if you aren’t willing to put in the work to learn.”

               “No, okay okay. I’ll redo it.”

               “I don’t want you wasting your time fixing this particular essay. Put it aside and I’ll find you an afterschool tutor to teach you instead. It’s better to just focus on doing better next time than to fix something with no promise. Besides, I have better uses for my time and you have better uses for yours.”

Berdly was no stranger to the phenomenon. Chemicals were strange things, with fascinating properties. Some accelerated the natural processes – of sleep, of aging, and of black spreading across your body from a wound never healed. Caffeine was different. Berdly knew enough about chemistry and biology to know that caffeine wasn’t quite the same thing as sugar because it didn’t energize you. Rather, it kept you in a state of limbo, blocking the ligands in your body from warning you that it was time to sleep. Swatch wasn’t going to be happy with Berdly’s absence from the manor, but he was just going to have to deal with it.

“Hello. You’ve reached the Director of Hometown General Hospital, Registered with the Board of Medical Oncology and Family Practice –”

He hung up again, hands jittery and stained with brew.

Berdly didn’t know what motivated him to start the coffee pot in the first place. The smell comforted him, he supposed. It made him feel like Tuesday and Wednesday were going to be like any other morning, with his father drinking a cup of it while complaining about other administrators. But then, while the smell perforated through the walls and reached every corner of the house, he grew curious. The taste was strange, and it vested him with the newfound power to control time. He could stay in the Lightner’s world a bit longer, and Berdly used that time to draft what he would say to his father. Something beginning with “it’s all a misunderstanding” and ending with something involving the words “magic”, “I’m not kidding”, and “it’s a bigger emergency than last time.”

               “You are reckless, you know that?”

               “I didn’t think you had such a huge problem with this. Noelle does cross country!”

               “Because Noelle is stronger and healthier. Look at you. You’re a scrawny boy. Just hold your wings out and witness it for yourself.”

               “Fine, fine. I won’t go to tryouts if you hate it so much. Half the class is doing Track and Field. I just wanted to –”

               “Berdly, you barely exercise. What on Earth convinced you that spending your time attempting to be an athlete was going to be worth your while? What, did some girl you like tell you to try for it or something?”

               “No! No, what!? Why would you say that? I just want to do something for fun! I don’t want to be good at it, I just want to have something to do. Exercise is supposed to be good for you.”

               “And going straight for sports is going to risk your safety unless you have the muscle mass to support it. Just know that my answer is no. If you want something to do, you can pull up your chemistry grade. That should take up enough of your time from the way I’ve seen you study, half the time on your phone and the other half struggling.”

Truth is, Berdly knew that he had no control over what his father’s reaction would be. He didn’t need infinite redos to know that the result of tonight would be the same. His choices didn’t matter. Only the attitude in which he dealt with the ensuing chaos.

               “What did I tell you?”

               “I-it really hurts... it really does.” Berdly couldn’t stop the tears from falling onto his clothes. The pain of a bone fractured was greater than anything he had ever felt. It ached with every movement he made, and the pain seemed to spread throughout his body like a phantom pathogen.

               “I suppose you’ve learned your lesson.”

               “It hurts…”

               “Don’t do something so reckless again. Now sit still. I’m going to call in the nurse to come fix the bone. You’re lucky this doesn’t require surgery.”

Family, as Berdly knew it, was one of the least valuable ways to know someone. He didn’t have to earn his association to The Doctor, it was just given to him by right of legal dependency. And Berdly knew that his ties with The Doctor were flimsy; they were neither rooted in equal status or even mutual need. Frankly, The Doctor didn’t need him for anything. He had more than enough money to find a housekeeper, and if Berdly lost his chance to attend a school like the ones he did, then it was almost certain that Berdly would never earn his keep. And while there was no doubt that Berdly would still have his father’s financial support, he could never live down the shame of disappointing him permanently.

It wasn’t the response from him today that would bother him. It was the idea that after 3 AM today, Berdly would never have to hear his father encourage him to apply for scholarships and internships again.

For all the lecturing and scolding his father did, Berdly knew that it came from a place of logic. It was not the praise, nor the words of encouragements that Berdly realized held significance, but the constant reminders that he hated to see Berdly fall beneath his expectations because he genuinely believed with all his soul that it was possible, that Berdly could reach the phenomenally high expectations he had set for him. Admittedly, they were based off the mirages Berdly set up for him to see, setting the status quo so far above his reach that Berdly knew, deep down, that even a regular success was now within the tier of disappointment.

None of this would be a problem if you just didn’t care what he thought of you.

The suggestion was crude but delightful to think about. It happened once before, and it felt absolutely gratifying. Berdly fiddled with his Fountain pen, black as the feathers along his entire arm now. Hypothetically speaking, what would actually happen if Berdly just never left Stormcrow Manor? What would his father’s reaction be?

Berdly ran a black-clad feathered hand across his face, oddly comforted by the gesture of something familiar brushing the condensation off his cheek. A feverish joy took a hold of him, just for a few seconds. Would his father panic? The black wings shrouded his view of the kitchen and once more, Berdly was in his own little world again.

               “Make this your permanent residence.”

               “I can’t.”

It was Berdly’s turn to ask: “Why not?”

               “What’s still holding you back?”

“Check this out,” Berdly said as he pressed a sheet of paper onto his desk.

The Doctor looked at it with steady calculation. “This better be a joke. Are you actually working minimum wage at the museum? Is that what you’ve been doing?”

“Okay, first of all, why do you have to focus on the minimum wage part!?? And also, yes! You wanted me to get a job, right? Well, surprise!”

The Doctor wasn’t having any of it.

“No, I told you to apply for the summer program at the university. It’s meant for people with your aspirations. This is a gift shop, Berdly! This is ridiculous. You’re wasting your pre-university years adding this low-for-grabs fluff to your resume when you should be taking advantage of the opportunities that I give you. I – just take this away. I’ll speak to you at home. I’m very busy right now.”

“But you didn’t read the small print. There’s a little notice at the bottom.”

“Berdly, I don’t have time for this.” His father stopped to examine the paper in closer detail anyway.  He frowned. “What does it mean? Training purposes only…”

“Yeah, it looks real though, doesn’t it? It was a practice one I did with the program they had on the computer. Mrs. Boom showed me how to do it.”

“Mrs. Boom, but she’s the Museum Director…”

“Head of the Natural Sciences Department, yeah. And you know what she sent me this morning in the mail?”

Berdly smiled slyly and slid an envelope across the desk. The Doctor’s eyes grew wide at the two bolded letters at the top of the first page. There, his gaze lingering for entire minutes, which went by painfully slow as the letter’s contents reinforced themselves in his thoughts. Berdly studied his expression carefully. The Doctor was usually like this: stoic, lukewarm, and unreadable. And in the midst of his worry, Berdly didn’t notice the tightening of his own throat, nor the clenching of his beak.

“Project Assistant… but the tasks she’s listed here, it sounds more like a personal assistant. Why?”

His voice dripped with disdain. Berdly could feel the vapours of his words stick to the surface of his eyes, where it was starting to sting. Surprisingly, Berdly didn’t feel his eyes lubricate themselves as they would when he was younger. Instead, the eyelids stayed dry and Berdly felt a heat rise behind his beak.

“What do you mean, why?” His voice contained a hint of anger. “Because Mrs. Boom is a busy woman and needs someone to take care of the cool stuff at the museum and keep the info on their website updated. Is all this still not good enough for you?”

“No, it’s just… you have your little thing at the library. Where are you going to spend all your time afterschool? With Mrs. Boom?”

“Yeah, obviously.”

“I don’t understand. I could have helped you find something closer to your intended area of study. Didn’t we talk about this the other day? You told me you loved computers and some long-winded rant about digging through the source codes of games. And I said –“

“To apply for that summer program.” Berdly’s confident interruption surprised The Doctor. “I got in, but I don’t plan on doing that anymore because I found something better.” He gestured to the paper on the table. “You can’t say this is a plan-B because I got into both.”

Berdly stood in front of him, arms crossed and back straight. The Doctor took a moment to just stare at him. Standing in front of his office desk was someone only a few years shy of being an adult. He dressed in a nice, collared shirt and his expression remained corporate and neutral when he spoke to him. What once was a stuttering and nervous-looking boy had been switched out for a miniature adult overnight. His feather coat contained not a single stray gray feather and instead shone a bright cerulean, beak sharp as his talons, and stature straight as his father’s.

When he was seated down, Berdly stood at a height taller than him.

“Did Mrs. Boom give that to you?”

Berdly twirled a shiny new pen in his hand, pointed at the tip and black, unlike the navy blue-capped ones they kept at the hospital. The Doctor could still remember a time when Berdly would borrow his glow-in-the-dark mechanical pencils and ‘forget’ to return them. He had to remind himself that Berdly was no longer a child. In his hands was proof that Berdly was now both old enough, and capable enough to get a job of his own. In another five years, Berdly might even be handling his own finances.

“Oh, yeah. She said there wasn’t ink for it, so it was basically junk. I um, I offered to take it off her hands. I thought it was kind of cool, you know. One sparrow’s discarded trash, another crow’s treasure, hah.”

“Berdly, if you need pens… I’ll buy you some.”

“No need. Once I start working for Mrs. Boom, I’ll be able to buy my own things! I know you’re always busy or whatever, so how about this?” He picked up his bag, prepared to leave. “I’ll give you time to read it but just so you know, I plan on working there regardless. Anyway, I’m going to the library.”

“Son, wait.”

Berdly’s hand hovered above the door handle. Behind him, The Doctor cleared his throat and tapped the papers together.

“I’ll sign these.” He ran a finger over the top of the envelope, next to the address. “It’s… a good job for someone your age.”

“Okay.” It was Berdly’s turn to be lukewarm. “I knew that already.”

“Sometimes, I just wonder…” The Doctor leaned back in his chair, taking off his glasses and pressing a hand to his temples. “I suppose this won’t leave you with time to visit Mr. Holliday with your friend anymore. You know, I’m sure he’ll miss hearing you talk about your little games and things. I don’t know many other people who can bring the same kind of chit-chat around here.”

Berdly had never really noticed the dark fold beneath his eyes, but under the fluorescent light of the office, they stood out like peculiar specimens. No doubt today was going to involve another late night. Another early morning. And then another late night after that. Berdly knew the drill. It was becoming his routine too. Study in the morning, study after school, volunteer, study some more, and go home.

“He’ll be fine,” Berdly said matter-of-factly. “He has Noelle.”

“Yeah… I suppose he does.”

(2370) Unread Emails – Sort by Relevance:

Toriel – School Administration Office: Concerns Regarding Berdly - Urgent

Doctor, I have some pressing matters to discuss when you have the time… [Keep Reading?]

Laboratory Services – Hometown General Hospital: Drug Testing Results for Berdly

This is an automated message: You can access your child’s recently completed… [Keep Reading?]

Reception – Hometown General Hospital: Your Son Came in for Testing the Other Day

Hey Doc. Everything’s going smoothly, but I thought you should know that… [Keep Reading?]

Office of Medical Oncology, University of… – Research and Outreach: Conference Schedule for Wednesday

View this email in your browser, English or select language options, University of… [Keep Reading?]

Dr. Eric Werner, Dr. Peel Amberly: Conference Concluding Remarks + Lymphoma Biomarkers Seminar

Hi everybody! Congratulations on all your hard work this past week. We’re happy to… [Keep Reading?]

Maintenance Team – Hometown General Hospital: Conducting Our Monthly Building Inspection Early

Doctor, in light of the recent power issues at the school, we request your permission for… [Keep Reading?]

Hometown School Attendance Office: Your Son’s Absence on Tuesday and Wednesday

Doctor, as per my last email, I wanted to update you to let you know that Berdly… [Keep Reading?]

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Berdly snapped out the delusions of grandeur. What was he thinking? He knew that it was impossible to ever stop truly caring about what his father thought of him. As far as Berdly was aware, there was no one else in the world whose opinion held greater weight. Not even Noelle’s.

The thought of his promise to Noelle struck a nerve, as he realized that despite her best wishes, Berdly wasn’t able to see it though. This wouldn’t even be the first time he’s lied to Noelle. She once asked him why he carried that pen around.

               “What, are you holding onto it for someone?”

               Berdly thought about how the truth would sound. It didn’t carry the same luster he wished it had. Mrs. Boom simply gave it to him because she didn’t need it and Berdly thought it was cool. However, the vast number of ideas Berdly came up with were tantalizingly interesting, so he lied. It kept her image of him perpetually above what he could feasibly obtain, but fiction was as good as truth when you didn’t know that it was fiction. What made fantasy any different than reality when it was something you could touch and hold in your hand?

               “I won this at a debate competition.”

               She was free to speculate why. The gaps of his lies usually filled themselves, helped by his reputation as the smartest kid in school. The canon practically wrote itself once you got it started.

He told Jockington that he made it from scratch in his garage using spare parts. He told Catty that he had a distant cousin who was a famous engineer and they made it for him for Christmas. Berdly couldn’t help but smile at the ridiculousness of the stories, each more extravagant than the last. Once, he even told Ms. Toriel that it was his father’s old pen he used in medical school, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. The Doctor always seemed annoyed to see Berdly waving that pen around, for whatever reason.

In Berdly’s hand was the ultimate instrument of fantasy. But now, he was running it dry for what it could do. The fantasy was going stale.

               “I made this myself, you know. I think I want to be an engineer someday.”

               “Woah, really, dude? That’s like, so cool! You totally could!”

Lost in thought, Berdly didn’t notice the clock slip past 3 AM. He couldn’t barely feel his own arms and legs through the drowsiness, much less the passage of time. The caffeine was leaving him, too.

               “Hey Jockington, did Ms. Alphys say when the tryouts will be next week?”

               “Erm – ask someone else my dude…”

               “He said no, Berdly.” Catti interrupted rudely and whisked Jockington away, leaving Berdly dumbfounded. Biting down on his beak, Berdly took out his phone and was about to check which shifts he was on for when it hit him for the seventh time that week that he didn’t have those anymore. His pen weighed heavy in his pocket, threatening to spill.

Berdly could feel his eyelids coax themselves shut and resigned to the feeling of defeat, he let them close. The Spelling Bee was tomorrow. And by some cosmic joke, some mythical design Berdly had no control over, Kris was going to beat him and that was going to be the final nail in his coffin. His reign as the smartest kid in school was going to blow out, theatrically, and with the whole school watching. Berdly curled into his knees, imagining the way his father’s face would fall as it finally dawned on him that his own son was itself a deluded fantasy, one that was dreamt up by The Doctor five years ago after Berdly won his first competition.

Berdly jolted awake. Groggily, he searched around him for the source of the disturbance until he noticed the disappearing glow from his phone.

His soul dropped down to his stomach.

It was an email from his father.

Chapter Text

Berdly,

Clear out the next few minutes because I’ve written a lot. Read to the end.

I thought I’d start off my email with a short preamble about lateral flow assays, as you have recently been acquainted with six of them. I wanted to first say congratulations, your test results all came back negative and clean. Your school forwarded me a photo of the bottle you were found with and evidently, those were sleeping aids, which I know were the ones I gave you. Of all the emails I’ve been getting this week, that had to be the most interesting one.

Now, for the science behind LFAs: principally, they work by detecting small traces of analyte, which we see as small lines – two denote a positive, and one denotes a negative. For most tests, only one control is necessary but for flu testing, there is a unique requirement to have two. Why? Because avian virus detecting LFAs detect a type of free-floating antigen that is very similar to a protein that avian monsters already possess, despite not being sick. Thus, we need two controls: one that determines if the test is working, and the other which measures how much baseline readout a monster will produce, to avoid a false positive.

Somehow, you tested negative for the avian control.

I thought my eyes were deceiving me because I’m fairly confident that you are in fact a bird. You should have produced a positive result for both controls.

In short, I know it wasn’t you who took those tests. I assume you got one of your friends to do them, and since I have no interest in legally reprimanding teenagers at City Hall (especially because I have an idea as to which friend of yours may have been visiting the hospital), I’ll let this misdemeanour slide. I am not angry, necessarily, but I am incredibly disappointed that you are willing to test the limits of your health. I know that those brands do not contain any addictive compounds but when taken in combination over an extended period of time, they place undue stress on your liver. I never explained this to you because frankly, I never thought you would be in a situation where I had to.

But ultimately, it’s up to you whether you want to get better. You still have the opportunity to make it up to yourself.

After the Spelling Bee is finished, we’re going to my office to re-take those LFAs, and properly this time. Then, we’re going to substitute your use of sleeping aids with something milder. Eventually, the goal is to ease you off of pharmaceutical assistance and work out a plan that will prevent you from falling into a habit of repetitive use in the future.

Honestly, I don’t know what motivates you to take them. I doubt I ever will.

I don’t know what problems you are keeping from me, but I assure you, there are few problems out there that genuinely have no solutions. When every available treatment failed to keep Mr. Holiday’s condition at bay, we had nothing left to do but try to formulate one from scratch, grasping at straws to come up with something that didn’t exist. Today, we presented the results of our clinical trial to the medical board, and now, our therapeutic drug is headed for pre-market approval. I assure you, whatever it is that you are dealing with, I have likely been there too: difficulties with my studies, problems with peers, struggles with work, and crowds, and expectations, university applications, and feelings of contempt, anger, and loneliness. I’m old for a reason.

I shouldn’t have given you those sleeping aids in the first place. It was a shortcut to get you back on your schedule, and I should have known that in medicine, you can never cut corners to get what you want. Solutions always require an equivalent sacrifice to be made: a burning question left permanently unanswered, a day taken off school or work, or a habit lost so that a better one can take its place.

Call or text me when you see this email. Whatever it is that you tell me, this time I will do my best to understand. You have my word in print.

 

Good luck at the Spelling Bee,

Father 

 

----

Director of Hometown General Hospital, M.D., PhD

Registered with the Board of Medical Oncology and Family Practice

Office Address: 23 District Lane., Room 103B

Berdly didn’t sleep much last night. He was up, running his eyes over the letter in disbelief. He didn’t have the words to articulate just how surreal it was to receive an email like that.

Something strange happened. While he was sitting on the kitchen floor, Berdly wondered if it was really that easy to come clean, make amends, and put it all behind him. Deep down, Berdly was aware that he was reaching an unspoken deadline. Swatch wanted him to make the manor his permanent residence, and with a little more thought, Berdly realized that there was only one way for that to happen; he had to leave the Lightner’s world for good.

The thought terrified him.

Nearby, the students from the other participating schools in the Spelling Bee were piling into the room, leading up to the gymnasium stage by a short step of stairs. A careful ambience of whispers and nods filled the space, with nervous first-time competitors flipping the pages of their books while seasoned veterans of the game sat on their assigned bench and waited for their nerves to clam before the storm.

               It's calm, you idiot. Not clam. Don't lose your focus!

The younger division was competing right now, leaving the older kids to wait patiently until their part of the competition began. Berdly thought of what to say in response to the letter. His father would be waiting in the audience, so the best time to send a reply would be now. In just a few moments, he’d see Berdly walk on stage, with feathers so dark, they didn’t look like family anymore. Berdly resisted the urge to dwell on that detail. He had his father’s word now, didn’t he?

               “Whatever it is that you tell me, I will do my best to understand.”

With that in mind, Berdly began to type. Something short would suffice. He didn’t need to play eloquent, he simply needed to get something off his chest.

Hey, it’s Berdly.

I got your email, and read it to the end, like you said.

So first, I promise that the only things I took were a few headache relievers and those sleeping aids you gave me. I know you say not to drink coffee because I’m still a kid or whatever, but yesterday, I couldn’t help it. When you run those tests at the hospital, you’ll probably see that I “took” caffeine too. It’s not what you wanted to hear but you should probably know that.

The only reason I drank your coffee was because I didn’t want to fall asleep last night. I know that’s like the one thing you get super worked up about, and you’re probably wondering why I was trying so hard not to stay awake, given the whole sleeping aids thing.

Honestly, I don’t know how to explain it, at least not in an email. I’ll come with you to the office.

That’s all I have to say.

Susie watched Berdly from afar.

He looked different since she last saw him in class. Obviously, he wasn’t looking so great then, but somehow, he managed to look even worse today. Dressed in his usual white cotton t-shirt, he sat in a corner by himself, typing away at his phone, but his clothes were slightly wrinkly, and his feathers looked… sickly.

Susie continued to look around the room. She had other priorities, other than birdwatching. Somewhere else, Susie knew that Kris was busy going round-robin with all the people in the room, talking to them one-by-one until the list of all possible interactions had been exhausted. Kris hadn’t been at school since yesterday, but even now, with both of them in the same room, Susie still hadn’t heard from them at all. Susie watched with bated frustration as Kris avoided her, just like people used to do before last week.

               “Careful, Noelle. Susie’s bad news.”

In Susie’s hand was the binder that Noelle had lent to her for studying.

               “Berdly and I made notes on all the stuff you have to watch out for. Just take a look at the parts you think you might need help with, and I’m sure you’ll do great.”

               Susie thought guiltily of the fact that this was where she had been spending her time, instead of with Kris. She knew for a fact that only one person in their class had binders who looked like that one, and he was not exactly on good terms with her either… for reasons Susie didn’t want to think about.

               “Uh, I really don’t know if I should.”

               “Oh, it’s fine! And, um… make sure you read to the end. There might be something waiting for you.”

Susie sat on the gym bench, arms limp by her side. Her conversation with Noelle had left a bitter taste in her mouth ever since. What many people didn’t know about Kris was that what they didn’t say often spoke volumes more about their intentions than what they actually said out loud. For some reason, Kris’s responses were always short, and no longer than what could fit on a single cue-card. Susie also knew that Kris had a habit of disappearing. Sometimes physically, but often, it was mentally. Kris didn’t always seem to be on Earth, half the time. It always struck Susie as weird that Kris could get away with being so spacey. When she asked Noelle about it, she told Susie the craziest story she had ever heard.

               “That’s not possible.”

               “S-Susie… what do you mean? I promise, I’m telling you the truth!”

               “But Kris? Like, the Kris in our class? Hey Noelle, I’m gonna need some proof to back that up.”

               Noelle was taken aback. “Fine. Fine, okay. You’ll see what happens tomorrow. I have a plan.”

Susie opened up the book and put aside all the Dark Fountain nonsense as she prepared for the competition. It was strange, uncharacteristically strange, to be in that kind of situation. Susie couldn't the last time she felt genuinely compelled to study for something. Noelle’s presence had something to do with it for sure.

The binder was clearly titled by Berdly. It read:

Ultimate Guide to Dictionary Words and Beyond

By Berdly and Noelle

Dear Reader,

In our quest to explore the depths of the English language and keep up our Spelling Bee streak, we’ve compiled this extensive guide to every possible problem you could ever face while competing in a Spelling Bee. Like scientists, we will be documenting our best strategies, tips, and tricks for knowing every word in the language. Some may think that Spelling Bees are all about memorization, but oh no they aren’t! They’re about cultural history, etymology, and much more as you will see.

Eventually, we will have to leave for university, so if you are reading this, you’re probably one of our chosen successors! Study hard because Spelling Bees aren’t just a game of chance like most children’s games are. It’s also a game of strategy. Everyone has their own style of competing, but you’ll find that ours is just way better. Take our advice if you want to win.

-----------------------

Berdly and Noelle

Hometown Spelling Bee Champions

Susie rolled her eyes. She remembered Noelle saying that Berdly insisted that every book should have a foreword and while Susie didn’t know what that was exactly, she recalled saying that it sounded just like something Berdly would do.

Noelle’s laugh was soft and warming. It carried a special, light but heavy quality that lifted the smile from Susie’s face, and soon they would be laughing together. The air smelled sweetly of hot chocolate and old paper. Manilla-coloured sheets covered the floor in a patchwork quilt of old, interconnected memories. Most were not Susie’s, however. They were Noelle’s, and that meant that quite a few of them were written in Berdly’s handwriting.

               “And we keep them all in this binder,” Noelle brushed a hand over the cover. “The librarian let us keep it under the volunteer help desk but… well, he doesn’t go there anymore so I went back one day to get it.”

               Susie felt the foreign weight of library books in her lap dig itself into her skin. Everything from the little gel pens Noelle had to the multi-coloured sticky-notes she kept at the back of her desk intrigued Susie, who had none of those things at home. And to think that just a week ago, she didn’t know what she was missing out on… Now, they had plans to go out and buy stationary after the Spelling Bee, and Susie couldn’t wait.

               “What happened after that?”

               “Well… you know, I – I have something to tell you.”

               Susie crouched forward, shoving the library books aside. Mrs. Holiday was away for work, and the wind of rosemary from Noelle’s hair was just a short distance away.

               “What is it?”

               “… It’s about Kris.”

Susie flipped to a page at random.

Acknowledgment V.S Acknowledgement

Definition: The acceptance of the truth or existence of something.

Alternative Definition: An author's or publisher's statement of indebtedness to others, typically one printed at the beginning of a book. Or you know… a citation.

Note from Berdly:

This is a fantastic case study of words having different spellings based on where they come from. One is the standard in America, but everybody else spells it the other way. Always ask for Place of Origin first! The etymological history reflects the different uses of prefix/suffix combinations and vowel placements.

(And curse Americans for cutting letters out of words just so it’d be cheaper to print in newspapers. No respect for the art of the English language…)

Bonus note (from Noelle):

Most of the time though, they won’t include confusing words like that in the Spelling Bee. I tried looking through a bunch of old Spelling Bee lists online and the only time they used a word like that was in Canada. Even then, it was mentioned in their rules that all words would be in their Canadian form.

From what I know, almost all the homophones you’ll meet will be two entirely different words, so I always stick with asking for the definition first! I think Berdly might be the only one who ever asks for the place of origin… lmao.

Note #3 – Berdly:

COUNTERPOINT: it’s the difference between Segue and Segway that makes it necessary! Sometimes you’ll get a truly AWFUL adjudicator who will define both words as ‘a vehicle for movement from one place to the another’ so you always ask for Place of Origin, just in case. As a bird, I’ll have you know that differential adaptations as a by-product of region are a big deal!!!

Note #4 – Noelle (FINAL):

Okay, we have reached a compromise. Always ask for both, Place of Origin AND Definition :^))) And sure, you can ask for Place of Origin first if you’re a big silly bird from the Galapagos.

Most entries were like that. There was a simple word at the top, followed by a short definition, and then an entire page of afternotes, usually unrelated. Seeing years and years of Berdly and Noelle’s notes laid out in front of her felt wrong, given what had gone down just a few days prior.

Susie looked around the room, but Kris was nowhere to be seen with all the students piling into the room, shoved between them. Even Berdly was too far out of her viewing range. For now, it was just Susie and her borrowed book full of other people’s secrets.

Triathlon – Noelle’s New Favourite Noun

Definition: an athletic contest consisting of three different events, typically swimming, cycling, and long-distance running (cross country).

Used in a Sentence: Noelle Holiday is the best triathlon athlete to come out of Hometown Public School, because she totally OBLITERATED the competition this year!!

Used in Another Sentence: Another win! That’s two years in a row, Noelle is on a roll!

Note #1 – Berdly:

Editor Noelle always groups the letters in ‘Triathlon’ as TRI-ATH-LON, but Editor Berdly does it the more logical way, which is TRIA-THLON to avoid making the mistake of putting an extra ‘A’ at the end of ‘TH’ as most people, like that announcer last week, will wrongly pronounce it. Honestly, it’s triathlon and library… WHY CAN’T PEOPLE GET THESE WORDS RIGHT??

Note #2 – Noelle:

“Editor” Berdly likes to overcomplicate words but forgive him, he recently started working at a “librarby”.

Also, since when did we call ourselves editors? We’re like, the only people writing in this book, lol. Doesn’t that just make us the authors???

Results from a Unanimous Vote:

From here on forward, the “editors” of this fine work will be referred to as Lord Berdly and Lady Noelle of the prestigious house of “Ultimate Guide to Dictionary Words and Beyond”. Read with only the utmost of respect! You are in the presence of Spelling Bee Masters.

A few more of the younger students came down the stairs, and pretty soon, the room was crowding up to the state it was in at the beginning of the event. On stage, the same few student’s names were being called, and that meant that the young division of the Spelling Bee was reaching its final group of contestants.

Susie flipped through as many of the pages as she could before it was time for her to join the rest of the people for their round.

December

Definition: the twelfth month of the year, in the northern hemisphere usually considered the first month of winter.

Spelling Bee tip from Lady Noelle:

Some words are difficult to spell, because there will always be multiple ways to interpret the definition of the word. Place of Origin, Use in a Sentence, Repeat the Word… it doesn’t matter. Remember the words based on how you’ve lived them, and don’t forget that it’s okay to not want to remember. At the end of the day, it’s only a spelling bee. I find that you get rewarded for winning, but you get rewarded for losing too.

In a weird sense, I guess the moral of this book (since it has one now), is to listen to your heart and be kind to your friends, because you never know what they might be thinking about. Words are meant to have meaning. Their history (or etymology as he calls it throughout the book) can be pretty interesting if you just ask the right person.

Susie held her breath. Dozens of strange creatures from other schools piled in all around here. Somewhere, Susie knew, Kris was among them – out of sight, but not out of mind. Raising her head up, she noticed that someone was watching her this whole time.

Kris stood up taller these days, with their shoulders pulled back and their feet pointed outwards at an angle that lengthened the appearance of their legs. Donning a pressed white shirt and dark pants, they looked almost like their Dark World counterpart. Susie opened her mouth to say something, but quickly, Kris peeled their eyes away and disappeared into the crowd.

In Susie’s hand was a page from Noelle’s binder, contorting with the drops of sweat that lined her palm.

Right, Susie thought. The Plan.

Noelle had been to several Spelling Bees already: junior, senior, and out-of-town competitions. For the first time in her life however, she was the one reading out the words.

Toriel sat beside her at the adjudicator’s table, repeating the instructions to the senior contestants. For the most part, the principles of the game were the same: you could ask for a repeat, the place of origin, the definition, or for it to be used in a sentence. Above them, the timer normally reserved for basketball games had been repurposed to count down from a minute, something that Toriel agreed they should only use for the senior students as it could frighten the younger children. Noelle suggested it, along with one other thing.

               “I’m not competing this year. Could I volunteer to read them instead?”

Most people didn’t have the power of a sweet voice and an undeniably good reputation. Today, it was Noelle’s turn to say the commands.

“If there are no more questions, we’ll be beginning shortly. I’d like to remind the audience to stay quiet in between contestants’ turns, and to hold your applause for the end of each round. Again, we will be welcoming students from around the Deltian School Board today so make sure to give your full attention to the speakers, especially to all the new faces here today.”

Toriel nudged Noelle’s arm.

“O-oh, right! In a moment, we’ll be starting the first round.” She eyed the row of students carefully. “The order of the words has already been chosen by Ms. Toriel, to avoid any selection bias. All of you have already been seated in alphabetical order, which will decide the speaking order as well. Are there any questions?”

A student from the back said something, but it was Toriel who answered. Noelle continued to search the crowd on stage for any sight of Berdly, Susie, or Kris. Unknowingly, she had already skimmed over his spot on the stage several times. He didn’t look like himself. His colouration was… different.

“Alright!” Toriel clapped her hands together. “Welcome to Hometown Public School’s Annual Spelling Bee. Our first round will begin as soon as Noelle calls forward our first student.”

Noelle took a deep breath. It was showtime. “Anchony, you’re up first.”

A lanky fish-looking boy sauntered up to the podium and curled his fins, anxiously.

“Your word is olfaction.”

Noelle had attended enough of these events to know that a lot about a person’s method of thinking could be revealed by how they liked to spell. For most people’s first Spelling Bee, they didn’t quite know what to study, so they memorized words by the shape of their letters and repeated them over and over again until they committed them to memory. By contrast, Noelle knew that the most impactful way to recall something was to tie a memory to it.

“Definition?” The boy asked meekly.

“Olfaction refers to the action or capacity of smelling, often heightened in certain species. Put simply, it is the sense of smell.”

The student’s eyes lit up. “Olfaction. OLF-ACT-ION!” His fins unfurled and he stood a little taller after the word had finished. His confidence was growing. That was the power of the Spelling Bee.

“You are correct!”

The next few contestants went by unceremoniously. Some took their sweet time thinking, and others rushed forward, paused in the middle of the word, and finished off with not much issue. Noelle found that after a certain number of hours of studying, it was abundantly clear that there were just too many words in the English language to memorize individually. People didn’t possess the capacity to know everything at any given moment; it’s what made people unique. Flaws were the true outliers that distinguished people from one another, and she once read in a book that to spell words from any part of the English language, one had to study how words were similar. Only then, a person could see how close-knit the world really was.

“Thank you, Anita, we’ll be moving on to Baers. Your next word is addition.”

“Edition. E – D – I – TION.”

The hefty-looking boy spoke fast, and in random intervals, which everyone knew was the mark of an overly confident beginner. Words with the same pronunciation were not uncommon, and he should have known better than to rely on the sense of hearing alone.

“I’m sorry. That is incorrect.”

Don’t worry, it was an easy mistake to make, she wanted to reassure him. A lot of words sound the same but are spelled differently.

Noelle had a strategy in mind, even when she was not competing. The plan was so straightforward, that Susie didn’t ask for any clarification after Noelle had explained it to her. She just looked at Noelle, puzzled, and insisted that she’ll witness it for herself if her plan worked.

“Thank you, Baers. Our next contestant is Berdly.”

The audience’s chatter fell silent in anticipation once his name was called. With bated breath, those who had been following the gossip around school watched carefully to see what the champion of the previous five years was going to do. To Noelle’s reassurance, he didn’t seem to be upset. Sure, he didn’t look so great, but he looked otherwise calm.

“We’ll be continuing on from the previous contestant, until either the word has been spelled or every contestant has gone through the word. Berdly, do you have any questions?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, then your word is Addition.”

“Place of Origin?”

Noelle frowned. She could see him holding back a grin as he waited for her to respond. Begrudgingly, Noelle pulled her chair back and reached beneath the table to grab a heavy binder. Everyone waited awkwardly as she flipped through the pages, searching for the ridiculously obscure piece of information he was requesting, which he most certainly didn’t need.

“Old France. It’s a Latin derivative.”

“Hmm… definition?”

He was definitely messing with her.

She brought out another book and scavenged through the pages, past all the other words that began with the letter “A”. Even if she knew exactly what the word addition meant, she had to read it off the dictionary, exactly as it was written or else it would be against the rules.

“Addition is the action or process of adding something to something else,” Noelle said curtly, for the inconvenience he knew he was causing her. “In the context of recruiting people to a mutual group, people often say that they are additions to the community, or newcomers.”

For a moment, Berdly’s face furrowed. However, he cast the feeling aside and quickly regained his composure.

“Addition. A-D-D-I-T-I-O-N.”

“That is correct.”

Back in his chair, Berdly quietly let out a sigh of relief. Against his own predictions, he wasn’t nearly as nervous as he thought he’d be. Some gopher-looking monster from the other school was up next, and Berdly couldn’t help but feel like he knew him from somewhere. The boy got up from his seat next to Berdly and sauntered his way over to the front of the stage.

“Christopher, your word is Dragonfly.”

Berdly watched bewilderedly as Christopher turned his head around to give him a sly grin. Then, he cracked his knuckles loudly and spoke into the microphone, carrying a slight Spanish accent.

“Used in a sentence?”

“Among wildlife insect enthusiasts, the dragonfly is a common favourite.”

Oh my god… Berdly looked up to the ceiling in embarrassment. That can’t seriously be him.

He cringed as the memories of mixing up the words Drogas with Dragons rose to the forefront of his mind. Sometimes, it didn’t do him any good to remember things in such great detail. Christopher leaned into the microphone and made sure that the word Dragon lingered in the air for a while. Behind him, Berdly was getting distracted.

“That is correct.”

Chris smirked as he walked back to his chair. However, Berdly’s attention was drawn to a nearby conversation.

“This school doesn’t have a smell.” The fish kid, Anchony, twitched his nostrils and whispered to the girl next to him. “It’s like all the electrolytes have been sucked out of the atmosphere. Isn’t that weird?”

“Dude, shhh…” She shoved his hand away.

Berdly noticed the same thing too. However, it wasn’t the lack of smell, it was the lack of noise coming from the air conditioning, which he knew was permanently on during the warm season. As a bird, he could hear many things. Usually, it was the chirps of other creatures outside, or the clatter of pencils on the floor from an adjacent classroom. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the room around him. Something was indeed strange. A subtle whining noise coming from lightbulbs could be heard from above. That wasn’t how they usually sounded…

“Hey man,” Chris spoke softly so that no one would notice that they were talking. Three more contestants had already completed their turn. “You okay? You look… lowkey kind of awful.”

Berdly opened his eyes and looked down at Christopher. He hadn’t even realized that their heights were different now, after all the years gone by. However, that’s when his eureka moment struck: the quietness of the hallway, the drug accusations, and everything else that happened… the last time he heard the lights make that noise had been Monday. And what followed was a power outage.

It’s not because of the Fountains, is it?

A quick glance at his own hands made Berdly wonder if his father had already noticed the discolouration of his feathers too. If a dense guy like Christopher thought it was strange, then what would The Doctor make of it? Beside him, Christopher cleared his throat and Berdly realized that he was still goading him for an answer. He tucked his hand into his sleeve and shot Chris a smug smile.

“You’re worried about me?” Berdly whispered to him underneath his breath. “Sadly, I have other Chris’s to worry about.”

“¿Ah, de verdad?” Christopher smirked. “Who’s this other Chris you’ve been talking to?”

Berdly felt the familiar competitive spirit spread across his body, warming him to his neck and lifting the corners of his smile just a bit. Things were going to be just fine. He just needed to calm down.

“Thank you, Krystal.” Noelle looked down to her list of names and realized that it was finally time. “Up next is Kris.”

Noelle felt her palms sweating as the second most anticipated contestant rose to the podium. Around her, students were whispering, and Noelle fought down the urge to tell them to stay quiet. From the audience, she could see Susie trying to make eye contact with her from between the students’ heads. It was their established signal to mean “I’m ready”.

Noelle sat up straight, palms against the table, and stared Kris dead in the eyes. “Your next word is Sephyrentze.”

Kris didn’t answer immediately. Rather, they were confused. The previous words have been in the variety of dogbone, acrobatics, and windshield. Since when did the difficulty of the words increase by this much?

Pay it no attention. They’re onto us, but we can still win.

The tendons sprang into action, and a muscle contracted just beneath their jaw to pry it open. Imitating Berdly’s rhythm of spelling, Kris leaned in towards the microphone and spoke calmly, one letter at a time and equally spaced between breaths.

“Sephyrentze. S-E-P-H-Y-R-E-N-T-Z-E.”

A few people behind Kris began to chuckle. Twisting around, Kris glared at Berdly, ready to tell him to shut up but to their surprise, he was just sitting there looking very confused. Beside him, Christopher was laughing into the crook of his arm, and another student quickly joined him.

“This is the one you’re talking about?” Christopher hushed into Berdly’s ear. “Oh, you’ve got to be joking.”

What? Kris wanted to bark at the front row. What the hell is so funny? Turning to look at the judge’s table, Kris realized that Noelle and Toriel weren’t laughing.

“That is incorrect.”

The silence in the gymnasium was deafening. Noelle’s voice cut through the laughter as it died out, leaving Kris frozen by the microphone in disbelief.  

What’s happening? No no no… wait –

The next girl in line politely walked around Kris, who was still standing in the middle of the stage. Someone from the front row yanked on Kris’s shirt to get them to sit back down and Kris scurried back into the shadows.

“Thank you, Kris. I now welcome our next contestant to pick up from where we left off. Your word is Sephyrentze.”

“D-definition?” The girl had no idea what was going on. It was a common word, was it not? Were there perhaps multiple words that could sound that way?

Quickly, Kris sat back down and wondered what was going on, too. They spelled it exactly as Noelle said it; The audience didn’t even react any differently when she read it the second time, so there couldn’t have been anything wrong with the way she said it.

“It is the action of ending a connection or relationship. Other definitions include the state of being separated or cut off. Alternatively, it can mean the termination of employment.”

“Severance.” The girl spoke cautiously.” SEV-E-R-ANCE.”

Kris’s stomach dropped.

“That is correct.”

The girl huffed and sat back down, disappointed at how mundane the starting rounds were. As she walked past Kris’s chair, she couldn’t help but let the guilty smile rise on her face, until it sneaked out of her mouth in the form of a soft, but audible snort.

So much for the great battle between the principal’s kid and the school’s reigning champion. Even Monster Kid got closer to beating him in the year that he made it past tryouts.

“I guess they just let anyone sign up for the Spelling Bee,” she whispered to the person behind her after she got back in her chair. “Even that Susie girl is here.”

The boy looked around. “Guess it’s gonna be another win for Berdly, what a letdown. I thought something exciting was going to happen.”

Head facing down, Kris could hear everything being said in the row behind them. Humiliation rose up to their cheeks as more murmurs filled the backrow. Without realizing it, small dots of water were appearing on the knee patches of their pants. Kris crouched forward, avoiding their mother’s eye, as precipitation continued to decorate the nice linen fabric that she had chosen out for Kris, just for the occasion.

Nearby, Berdly couldn’t help but listen to bits of the chatter too.

“What a fraud,” an anonymous voice whispered. It sent a spike through Berdly’s soul, even though he knew it wasn’t directed at him.

               “You didn’t lose on purpose, did you?”

               Noelle turned around to see if he was joking, but Berdly was dead serious. “What, why would you think that?”

               He turned the first-place medal over in his hands sheepishly. “Look Noelle, I’m not an idiot. I mean, three years in a row, there’s just no way… Last week, if you didn’t help me study for that English test, I probably would have gotten a B. Don’t tell me you don’t know…”

               “Know what??”

               “That I’m – I know I’m a bit of a fraud, okay?”

               She was surprised to hear Berdly say such strange things. It didn’t seem like him at all.

               “A fraud? Just because you had some help… you know that sounds absurd, right?”

               “…”

               “I didn’t write that test for you. And even if I lost on purpose, it would still mean that you stuck it out longer than everyone else. Berdly, don’t you realize? That was all you.”

               “Then why do you still help me?” He stopped fumbling with his medal and furrowed his brows, waiting for an answer.

               “Because… well, we’re friends. And as for that test, I guess – how do I put it… Berdly, I think everyone deserves a chance. Sometimes, that’s all a person needs.”

Susie followed Kris into the hallway after the round ended. All the losing contestants took their leave, and while the junior students weren’t shocked to see Susie lose the game so early, people seemed genuinely surprised that Kris was walking off the stage too.

Ironic, wasn’t it? That a single word could bring someone to their knees?

She didn’t believe it at first, but the way Kris delivered those letters made it impossible for them to have lost due to a sudden case of stage fright. Noelle said she heard the truth right from Berdly, and according to her, she was there to witness it too. Kris was hiding tricks – malicious tricks that almost cost someone their life last week.

Deep down, Susie always had a gnawing feeling that something was off about these Dark Worlds.

It was in the bully’s nature to wonder what the worst possible scenario could be. And it didn’t take a genius to wonder what happened to people if they got, badly hurt perhaps, in the Dark World. She noticed it the first time she came back from an adventure, and scars decorated the bottom of her legs.

               “And what happened to all those people we defeated?” Susie put on a stoic face and pretended to not feel the bile rising up from her stomach. “Uh, they’re totally cool, right?”

               “They’re fine,” Kris said. “Keep going. We’re almost there.”

“Where are you going?” Susie’s voice bellowed down the hallway. Her fist trembled. Old habits were hard to shake. “Hey, I’m talking to you. Your mom is still in there with Noelle. Don’t tell me you’re – “

“I think… I think I’m going to go home.”

“Hell, no you aren’t. What happened back there? Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of that word before. Even Monster Kid’s dumb little cousin could spell that!”

“…”

“You didn’t respond to any of my texts the other day. I was wondering what happened to you.”

Kris remained silent.

Susie crept forward and wrapped a fist around the hem of Kris’s nicely pressed shirt, crinkling it so much that it probably left a permanent distortion in the fabric. “Can you just speak up for once?!” She yelled, knowing that there was no one around in the hallways to hear them. “What the hell is going on with you and Berdly? Tell me the truth!”

Kris clenched their teeth and pressed their eyes shut. It was in moments like these that Susie felt her grip start to slacken, and her soul start to beat twice as fast. Noelle thought so highly of her, and so did Ralsei, when he taught Susie how to use healing magic. She remembered the heaviness of the technique as it flowed through her fingers – real magic, and it could be used to help others.

               “You’d make a great protector, Susie!”

               “Awe me? Come on dude. I’m… I couldn’t be like that. Hah…”

Awkwardly, Susie cleared her throat.

“You know, I um… I lost on purpose. To come talk to you. In the hallway.” Susie let Kris back down onto the floor. In the tense moment, she didn’t even realize Kris had been raised up into the air. “Actually Kris, I kind of already know what you’ve done.”

“…”

Susie thought carefully about what she wanted to say. “Look, you know this is crazy, right? The kind of stunts you pulled. This Dark World stuff has gone way too far.”

“…”

“Fine. Don’t say anything then. Here’s what we’re going to do.” Kris peered up at Susie, but her expression was entirely unreadable. “We’re closing that Fountain right now. I don’t care. Ralsei said that there can’t be more than one, right?”

Kris’s eyes widened. “No, no you can’t.”

“No. YOU listen to ME for once, alright? I’d be actually an idiot if I thought that awful people couldn’t become better. I mean, just look at… nevermind. My point is, that Fountain is the biggest problem we’ve got right now. And even if all that crazy stuff is unforgivable, the least we can do is clean up the mess. We’re fixing things TODAY, got it? That’s step one.”

Kris didn’t move. They couldn’t. They were physically held to that spot on the ground.

“And step two? I guess we can… who am I kidding. Let’s go. And after it’s all over, let’s just…” Susie pondered her options, ultimately leaving her sentence hanging, unsure of what to say. Noelle made it seem so much easier. “You know what I mean. Split up. Go our separate ways. Whatever.”

“N-no, why?”

“You want to know why?” Susie scowled. Her tall stature cast a lengthy shadow across the hallway floor, just barely grazing the door to the spare classroom where the Dark World was being kept. “Because Noelle’s my friend, and Berdly’s her friend. I stood up for you Kris! This whole time, too! But you know, I can’t have you keep hanging around my gang if you’re going to… to – ”

“Susie.”

The sudden loudness of their voice caught her off guard. Kris contorted their legs and arms as if in a strange kind of dance. Creeped out, Susie began to back away. Kris’s mouth was pulled back into some kind of toothy grin.

“Come here. I need to show you something.”

Berdly could still hear the faint humming of light bulbs above them on the stage. It was starting to get on his nerves.

Does this school not have electricians or something? I thought they would’ve fixed the light problem by now.

The more he thought about it, the easier it was to rationalize that it probably wasn’t caused by any extracurricular activities he was involved in. The competition was going great, and with Susie and Kris gone after the first and easiest round, there was nothing left standing in his way. Surely, he was just paranoid from the lack of sleep. If Susie and Kris bluffed their way into the competition, then the most logical conclusion would be that they bluffed about all that Armageddon stuff too.

Berdly smiled to himself. He really believed them for a while. How ridiculous! After the Spelling Bee was over, things were going to fix themselves. He didn’t know how, mechanistically, but that was a technicality for later.

Acceleration. Rivalry. Adrenaline.

“Sorry Anita. That is incorrect.”

Optimization. Concurrently. Phosphoenolpyruvate.

“Good work Anchony! That is correct.”

Berdly was impressed. Most people stumbled on the -phoenol prefix. That Anchony kid must have had a parent who worked in science, perhaps a neighbour or something like that too. A shuffling of chairs followed suit as the rows began to thin out, leaving just a handful of contestants left. The noisy couple who sat in the backrow both dropped out of the race during round three, and another few kids from the Spanish school left after the seventh. Berdly was almost sad to see Anchony go in the nineteenth round, having received a short but tricky word. Not knowing who Berdly was, the boy even passed him a friendly wave as he took his leave. He seemed to have enjoyed the competition, even though he had lost.

Another dozen rounds had passed, and the competition dwindled down to the last two contestants. There was a quick minute break as a few stagehands helped fold away the chairs, and brought another microphone stand onto the stage. The final players shared a quick glance before mentally preparing themselves to face off in rapid succession.

“Christopher, your next word is deciduous.”

“Used in a sentence?”

“During the autumn season, the leaves on deciduous trees start to change colour, marking their final stage towards maturity.”

Berdly had been listening to Christopher’s methods closely since the tenth round and he had picked up on a few things. Christopher paid close attention to the pronunciation of words, and while other contestants were on stage, Berdly noticed how he moved his lips to match the sound of the words he was hearing. He spelled that way too – not by grouping words by prefix and suffix, but by picking out the individual noises, and piecing them together. It was a strategy that was going to cost him eventually, as the words became more obscure.

“Deciduous. DE-CI-DU-OUS.”

“That is correct.”

Berdly took in a deep breath. The words were harder, but not necessarily longer. The trick was that the words in the final rounds were the most ambiguous, and it didn’t just require a good memory, it required some careful analytical thinking. Fortunately, Berdly was good at both.

He was known for his memory: Berdly, the overthinker and class know-it-all, who never forgot a thing.

“Your next word is Paracosm.”

Berdly pondered it a bit. Depending on where the word came from, it could either have been spelled with a “C” or a “K”, like the difference between Catherine and Katherine (or if you were really so inclined, Qatherine).

“Place of Origin?”

“Ancient Greek.”

Most words had Greek origins because they lived in an English-speaking country. Recurring individual components were often derived from crumbs of the Greek language and amalgamated together to form unique pairs, as cultures split off and then joined back together. Berdly deduced that the word was split up into two portions: a Greek prefix, and a Greek suffix. Para likely meant ‘beside’, or ‘alongside another’, like in parabola, or paratrooper – the mathematical pattern or the flight behaviour (specifically for humans jumping out of planes).

However, -cosm was a Greek word to mean multiple things, and that’s what stumped Berdly for a moment. In the word cosmetic, cosm- was a prefix to mean “an arrangement”. However, when used in phrases like bacterial microcosm, -cosm probably had some other meaning, such as “one specific location” or something of that sort. Depending on the meaning of the word, it might not even be -cosm at all, it could be Para-cos-em, with -em referring to the individual “I”. In that case, the word might mean ‘to place oneself next to another’, which sounded entirely plausible. Hell, the middle portion might even have had something to do with a cosine graph equation… for no reason in particular.

“Definition?”

Berdly figured that it probably didn’t hurt to clarify. He was so close to winning that every bit of information mattered now, no matter how trivial. Noelle flipped the pages in her binder and sat up to meet the height of the microphone.

His focus narrowed in until it was just the two of them in that room. A spotlight shone on each of them, with Berdly in the centre of the stage, and Noelle in the audience, seated high at the Judge’s table. Carefully, she began to read.

“A paracosm is a detailed imaginary world.”

Chills ran down the length of Berdly’s body, rooting him to the ground.

“Commonly having its own geography, history, and language, it is a sophisticated reality that is often developed during childhood and may continue to develop over time, even into adulthood.”

Noelle’s clothes brushed against the table as she read off the dictionary. Up on the stage, Berdly couldn’t pry his eyes off of that white summer dress as it moved, glowing with an angelic haze under the spotlight. Around him, the rest of the world was growing dim.

               Her gown trailed behind her as she took one last look at the battlefield, and soft as whisper, she glided over the ground she walked – she was the first to leave. Berdly tried to call out, but he couldn’t move his beak. He waited and waited, but no one came.

               And then, he felt something soft skim the top of his head, pushing away the pieces. The weight of someone else’s wings rested on his shoulders.

               “It will be alright.”

“The creator of a paracosm has a complex and deeply felt relationship with this subjective universe, which may incorporate real-world or imaginary characters and conventions. Psychologists believe – ”

“Shh, that’s enough.” Toriel touched her arm steadily to tell her to stop reading. A quick glance at the stage told her that something was wrong.

On stage, Berdly was fixed to the podium, suspended in time as it spread out in front of him. A flicker of recognition passed over Noelle, who noticed the way he was standing, wings pressed to his sides and hardly moving. Around the judges table, on the gymnasium floor, Noelle could hear the students whispering.

“Why is he just standing there?”

She traced a finger over the last sentence of the definition, which stopped just at the edge of the paper. That’s when the revelation dawned on her. Susie said that they were looking for a second Fountain. Her eyes grew wide as the dots finally began to connect themselves.

Paracosms are often used to escape a traumatic or uninspiring reality.

Berdly’s throat tightened, and something coated the surface of his eyes, distorting his vision. He tried to push past the laboured breathing, to keep going. He was so close to the finish line already, and a fresh start waiting for him right here, if he could just call out its name.

“P – A – …”

He leaned too close to the microphone and for one awful moment, the audience could hear a sharp intake of breath followed by a recoil of air. Berdly, the five-time champion and top student among the senior classes did absolutely nothing as the timer ticked down to zero. Watching below were his friends, his teachers, his supervisors, and his father. His hands trembled, grabbing onto that microphone stand by the hilt to tip it closer to him, afraid that it would fall off the stage, permanently into the abyss.

Memories rushed him, transporting him away to a single moment. Once more, he was standing in front of hundreds, nervous and unable to speak.

“Do you want us to repeat it for you?”

Toriel’s words rang across the empty space of the gymnasium, but Berdly wasn’t listening. She had never one hit the mark of what she wanted to say, not a single time during the whole ordeal. It was humiliating to be put on display, with his whole world around him crumbling. Sweat coated his back and stuck the feathers right to his shirt. His hands were a disheveled mess too, with old paper marks decorating his palms next to where the old electric burn had not faded yet.

               “Do you know how much it pains us to know you’ll be away for so long? You’re always consumed by some kind of work in the Lightner’s World… Berdly, we need you here, at home.”

“No,” he faltered, as a night’s worth of avoided sleep finally began to weigh on him. “I’m done.”

The final buzzer went off.

Berdly’s window of time had passed for good, leaving him lost in thought and oblivious to all the noise around him. The aftershock rang in his ears, and Berdly let it linger.

Christopher glanced at him, expecting some boisterous display, but Berdly just stood there unresponsive. Accepting his gesture of defeat, the new champion of the Spelling Bee stepped forth to the podium and proceeded to speak into the microphone.

“Paracosm. PARA-COSM.”

And just like that, it was done.

Berdly’s legacy was over, and a single word was all it took.

Susie stumbled out of her usual tall stance and backed into a row of lockers. She could hear her soul beating through her ears, pumped with adrenaline.

“Uh, K-Kris? What the hell are you – “

Kris grimaced as muscles began to heave their body forwards towards her, while another set of nerves tried everything to pull the tendons back. By the summative twisting of their body, they ended up crouched on the floor of the hallway, one hand reaching towards their chest and another paradoxically trying to pull it away.

“Hey, pull yourself together! We have a Fountain to close. We don’t have time to waste, it’s – ”

Suddenly, she noticed something at the end of the hall. Right along the bottom of the old classroom entrance, a thick creeping shadow was leaking out onto the floor. Even the door was beginning to turn black along its hinges. All around them, the lights were starting to flicker.

“Holy–! Hey, what do we do?!”

Susie watched in surprise as the sweat coating Kris’s forehead pulled their bangs aside, revealing two scarlet eyes peering back at her. Crimson glow diffused out from behind their shirt, as the hallway’s light began to crackle and dim.

“Kris… what the hell… is that?”

Chapter Text

Berdly didn’t take failure lightly. The way he processed failure was as irresponsible as a child, but as repressed as an adult. That being said, he also hadn’t slept for almost two consecutive days, so by the end of it, he was so numb by the fatigue that the weight of his loss didn’t immediately register to him.

His father once described to him a simple physics experiment, where if you passed a laser through a thin slit on a piece of cardboard, you could generate something called a diffraction gradient on the wall. It consisted of a series of dotted lights, in alternating fashion: light and dark, light and dark. Berdly’s mind raced, and then it went blank. Autopilot kicked in as soon as Christopher’s name was announced. By reflex of seeing Christopher’s hand extended, Berdly shook it, and without another word, he walked off the stage, passing through the gradient on the wall.

His mind wavered: Dark and Light. Dark and Light, again.

Young Master, a devious part of his imagination echoed after the jeers had finished. The only thing you have to lose are your confines. 

Berdly shivered.

Behind the stage door, an older woman approached him, but she was simply there to take attendance.

“Washroom,” Berdly croaked before she could say anything about the state he was in. “I need to wash my hands.”

The teacher took one look at the bags under his eyes, and waved a dismissive hand. “Alright kiddo, but while you’re out there, if you see any students, tell them that everyone is returning to the gym for the final remarks. I don’t know what’s taking those two so long…”

Truthfully, birds didn’t sweat out of their hands. They didn’t sweat at all, which had greatly helped Berdly’s image in the past. Nobody could ever tell if he was panicking or not, and as far as they knew, Berdly was practically unfazed by things like tests and oral presentations. Sometimes, Berdly was known for speaking so fast that he grew breathless from excitement, but there was reason for that too. Unlike mammals, birds didn’t have sweat glands, but that didn’t mean they lacked other ways to thermoregulate. One of the ways birds compensated for their inability to sweat was by panting.

Alone, and away from the eyes of the audience, Berdly let out a long breath he had been holding... to feel absolutely sick.

Black ink hemorrhaged throughout his body and corroded his soul. That was when the truth finally sunk in. Nobody noticed him leave except the teacher. People were starting to forget about him already. Somewhere out there, his best friend was congratulating another person for the win that by all means, should have been his.

“I- I lost.” Berdly let his mouth sound out the words, even if he wasn’t making any audible noise. 

His back leaned against the wall, hand clutched at his chest as a pain broke out all over his upper body. Sore aches shot across his arms and lower abdomen like he had been starving himself of oxygen, but that was exactly how it felt. Berdly physically couldn’t get enough air no matter how hard he gasped for it. His mouth gaped open as he devoured the oxygen from the atmosphere, heaving breaths into the open air like a vacuum. Drunk off the fight-or-flight hormones flooding his body, Berdly’s train of thought veered off-course to worry about everything there was to worry about.

               “Millions of children only wished they had a life like yours, living in a big house with all the resources they could possibly dream of. But what do you do instead? You squander them for whatever the hell this is all about.”

               Berdly remembered the way the kitchen light cast a shadow over his father’s face, looking down at his broken arm in a cast.

               “Mistakes are not generated from nothing,” his father growled. “They’re a reflection of the person who made them.”

Berdly’s back was against the wall. There was no way he could tell the truth, after all the time he had spent letting his little secret ferment. There was definitely no chance of him coming back from this now. Embarrassing moments became lost with the passage of time. Small errors could be corrected as soon as they were made. However, once the deadline for something had passed, there was no way of remedying that kind of mistake.

               “What terrible company you keep, my Lord. ”

Swatch’s voice was deep and soothing, buttery and Victorian. By virtue of his position, he was always going to have something good to say to him. However, it was equally possible that Swatch would be mad at him for avoiding the Dark World for so long, shirking his duties for what it was that he had to do here. The tiles beneath his feet swirled as Berdly’s imagined voices amalgamated together. He couldn’t tell the imagined from the happened, but somewhere in between, Berdly found an unbridled anger rising in to fill the gaps. When Berdly moved his beak again, he and the muses talked in unison.

               “Do you know how taxing it is to put up with a Lord who is constantly busy with his work, and rarely home to handle the demands of the manor? How dare you show your face and expect me to just be waiting here every time… you know, one of these days, I just might leave. Go see how sorry you’d feel then!”

Berdly’s head pounded as stumbled around, mad with an after-regret that emanated from the corners of his eyes. His father’s letter was wrong: many problems lacked solutions. Convincing the man otherwise was going to be impossible, because unlike Berdly, he hadn’t been living in a gross pile of his own delusions for the past two weeks, and if he could see his son now, he’d barely recognize him. There was a completely new side to Berdly and it was one that nobody had ever thought of before. It was undignified, borderline delusional, and enough to make anyone back away from him with contempt.

Dark as night, Berdly raised two wings around his head in a vain attempt to comfort himself.

“I won’t go down that easily,” he imagined yelling to no one in particular. “I’ll… I’ll show them. I built this legacy from the ground up… it can’t – I can’t…”

The lights of the hall flickered to the beat of his unravel. Old fears bubbled up to the surface as Berdly’s harsh imagination began to turn the blade towards himself, unforgivingly, as it always did when there was no one left around to blame. He dipped in and out of consciousness, as stale, underdrawn breaths began to cut off his oxygen supply.

“Berdly… get away from that door.”

Susie stood at the end of the hall, holding Kris in some kind of lazy chokehold. Outside of the Dark World, Kris wasn’t a match for even Susie’s non-dominant arm. Dripping in sweat and wrestled into submission, Kris hung limp by Susie’s side, no longer leading in front.

Red eyes glared at him from behind a set of uncombed bangs.

Noelle’s shimmering white dress had the power to mesmerize you in your spot. By her side was a knight in shining armour… but it wasn’t him. Crimson glowed behind the chest plate, devilish in a way that was perfectly and diametrically opposed to Noelle’s shining glow. Berdly’s mind raced as his body grew rigid with anticipation of the worst.

And suddenly, he was neither mind nor body.

He stumbled another step back towards the wall, thinking he’d be safe there. The shroud of its artificial darkness invited him to take a step closer, like a pair of open arms ready to catch him in a trust fall.

“You two came here to finish the job, didn’t you?” Berdly hadn’t even noticed that he had wandered off into a completely different part of the school while he was drifting away. He reached into his pocket. “Well, you’re never going to get me to talk.”

Susie had never seen his expression look so foul, but Berdly wasn’t restraining himself for a reputation anymore. Backed into a corner, Berdly’s composure had completely crumbled. His black feathers blended seamlessly in with the dark shadow of the door behind him. He whipped out something sharp and held it in front of himself like a priest who swore he saw a demon coming for him.

Around them, the lights stopped flickering, plummeting the hall into complete darkness.

“What the…”

“You’re pathetic,” he spat. His hands trembled as he kept the Fountain pen pointed firmly at Susie. “It’s why you two dropped out of the first round just to power pose in the hallway until I showed up. Forget ever trying to find that Fountain because I’m never telling you.”

In the distance, Susie could hear Mrs. Toriel’s voice over the microphone, urging everyone in the gym to remain calm until the lights came back on.

Time was running out.

* Berdly blocks the way.

* You may not be able to ACT but Susie still can.

“Procee- nghh…!”

Susie tightened her arm around Kris’s shoulders, squeezing the air out of their lungs before they could finish speaking. Berdly shrivelled up at the sight of her flexing an arm.

“Shut up, both of you! I’m trying to think!”

Susie couldn’t believe what she was about to say, but with the recent revelations fresh on her mind, she couldn’t bring herself to keep fighting the way they used to. Ralsei warned them that something bad would happen if they kept choosing to FIGHT instead of ACT, and as it turned out, he was right. Susie felt the weight of her own disgust and shame sink onto her shoulders, rolling its way down her back in beads of sweat.

Ralsei had called her a hero once.

She remembered how healing magic felt like when it ran through her hands.

Noelle said something similar to her once too, that she was her hero.

Undeniably, Susie had always been set of arms holding the class together, by virtue of being herself: the person that everyone despised. Everyone knew that the quickest way to make two people friends was get a third party involved. Friends came together because they fought on the same volleyball team. They formed circles at lunch because they had something to complain about together. And sometimes, people joined forces simply because it took more than one to take down a Dark Fountain.

In other words, the quickest way to form a bond between two people was to hate the same thing.

Standing in front of Susie was the new class outcast, a title that had been taken away from her hands, but subsequently thrust upon someone who didn’t know how to handle the job. He cowered and avoided coming to school. He let himself practically decay away instead of fighting back, and his posture told the whole story: Berdly hated it. He glowered over everyone before, claiming that they merely lacked the resolve to rise to his station, but when put to the test, Berdly couldn’t do it either.

“Hey man, put that thing down. Let’s uh… talk it out.”

She had heard of hostage negotiators on television before. Of course, she was the one with a hostage, but frankly, the details were irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Berdly stopped backing up towards the old classroom door, but he also wasn’t moving away from it either. Instead, he stood there dumbfounded as Susie attempted to come up with something to say.

“Okay. Berdly. You uh…” Susie couldn’t find the right words. It was like test-taking: open ended questions were the worst, because unlike multiple choice questions, there were an infinite number of answers to choose from. “You…”

He took one more step backwards.

“Woah woah – okay look Berdly! I don’t know what the hell you’ve done, but like, it can’t be worse than what we’ve done, okay? Whatever shit you’ve been up to, just forget about it. Let’s just call it a temporary truce until we get those Fountains sorted out.”

Susie wasn’t very good with words.

What would Ralsei say? Damn it, what kind of corny shit would he come up with…

“I know you’re scared.” That part was obvious. Most people were scared after they were backed into a corner by Susie. “But you uh… don’t have to be? Because I promise I’m not going to lock you in a spare closet this time.”

“Wait… that was you?”

“Uh! No, that’s not what I meant, shit! No no no, I was talking about fourth grade!!”

Berdly glanced towards the slacken body clutched in Susie’s left arm, hanging like a sack of meat. Whenever people didn’t finish their disputes, they pushed the other party in Susie’s direction, knowing what she’d do to them if they got in her way. She was effectively the school’s people-disposal system, no different than a hound at the table, waiting for scraps.

“And what, you’ll do me in as soon as I agree to come with you guys? You’ve never been nice to me.”

Smug, condescending, and scornful of anyone who didn’t meet the purity of his standards – it was easy to hate someone like Berdly. However, it was easy to hate on someone like Susie too, before Noelle had pushed her to do all those good things. If Noelle was here, she’d know exactly what to say to Berdly to get him to stop, but this wasn’t the Berdly who hung out by Noelle’s locker every morning anymore. In a way, maybe it was good that Susie had ended up in this spot instead. She was likely the only one who could talk to Berdly now, in his current state.

Hell, it was even easy to hate someone like Kris. At least, that’s what Susie used to think. She quickly dismissed the thought.

“I just need you to step out of the way. Behind that door is a –“

“Susie, don’t –“

“Hey, shut up for a sec! Anyways, look. A lot has happened. But let’s put all that aside because we’ve got a bigger problem on our hands than who gives up which Fountain first.”

Berdly’s face contorted. “No! I’m not going to put it aside, what the hell?! Of course, that’s easy for you lot to say. YOU’RE the ones making the problems! Fix it yourself!” Berdly reached one hand back to feel the doorknob. “Tell me the truth or I swear I’m going to open it. Whatever you’re hiding back there can’t be worth it, can it? What is it?”

Susie fought back the urge to strangle him right there and then. “I’m trying to tell you, Berdly! You just have to listen! I know you haven’t been at school but here’s the plan: we only have to shut down at least one of the Fountains to stop the bad thing from happening, right? Well, here’s the deal: work with us here, so we can go shut down OURS.”

Berdly’s chest rose and fell rapidly, but to Susie’s satisfaction, he was starting to lower his arms.

“You mean…”

“Behind that door is the other Fountain.”

Susie’s words hung in the air for a moment while Kris continued to struggle from her iron grip. To both their surprise, Berdly started to laugh.

“What kind of idiot do you think I am?” He leaned against the door for support as his body threatened to collapse on him. “Of course it would take two C+ students would come up with such an inane story, as if I’d fall for that trick.”

“ARE YOU SERIOUS, BERDLY!??”

“No, I know what you’re going to do. You’re going to wait until I’ve trapped myself inside, and then you’re going to finish me off with no witnesses. Just like last time… and for good old times sake, I can already imagine the stupid faces you guys would make as you pretend to discover my dead body lying in the closet.”

Berdly imagined his father coming across his body again. The context of the situation wouldn’t look good after the fact that he had lost. Kris and Susie would have every alibi to insinuate that Berdly had been responsible for the job himself. The thought of his father reading Berdly’s last email to him and overanalyzing every last word sent a wave of pre-emptive guilt over him. This was quite possibly going to be the finish line. He was never going to retake those LFAs like he promised.

“I didn’t put you in the closet, dumbass! That was…”

Kris struggled against Susie’s grip, gasping.

* Berdly blocks the way.

* 1 left.

“I can’t breathe.”

*A deep rumbling behind that classroom door fills you with anticipation.

* The real event of the evening is about to start.

“N-no… I don’t want to –“

“You’re fine, quit whining!” Susie hissed something in Kris’s ear and turned her head back to Berdly.

Berdly clenched his beak. “A truce, huh? You’re lying, if that's how you treat your own teammates. As soon as I agree to a truce with you, you’re going to… you’re going to…”

“No!” Susie began to panic. Her ACT was falling apart. “It’s gonna be fine! We just need you to get out of the way so we can – HEY!”

Kris’s body went fully limp for a moment. But, with a sudden burst of energy, Kris wrenched their way out of Susie’s grasp and made a beeline straight for Berdly, who scrambled all the way back towards the flimsy spare-classroom door.

The next few moments elapsed quicker than any of them could anticipate.

First, the door blew off its hinges, and from the depths came spilling out a crack so large that it tore through the cheap linoleum floors like paper. It took the three of them down into the abyss below and Berdly squawked as the tiles disappeared. Suddenly, he was no longer being held down to the earth by gravity. Gravity was still there, don’t get him wrong, but it was the ground that no longer existed.

“Woah, Kris! What’s happening?”

* This isn’t how it was supposed to happen, but somehow… the pieces still fell into place.

*Save?

“Yes.”

“Who the hell are you talking to!?!? Where did everyone go? AHghhh!!”

Berdly couldn’t hear what anyone else was saying through his own freefall. However, in the distance, he spotted something racing towards him, and Berdly let his worries disappear. A black shadow with sharp talons and a streamline of contrail wind made a beeline straight for his location, and Berdly welcomed it. He didn’t have a choice really. Sometime after 4AM last night, he could feel his body ticking down to an eventual return to the Dark World.

Sleep pulled his eyelids down, just late enough or him to catch glimpse of the world that he was falling towards. Strangely enough, it wasn’t anywhere he recognized, but that’s when everything suddenly changed. At the same speed Berdly was falling, something from the ground was rising. A giant tower pushed through the ground, revealing a massive castle that shoved all the other buildings aside, occasionally breaking some of its own architecture in the process. Among the towers were things that Berdly recognized. There were bits of architecture from Oxford, some tiles from the bookshops he and his father explored while on a business trip, and the tops of old houses they visited before arriving in Hometown. From beneath half-closed eyelids, he realized what he was looking at.

Stormcrow Manor was superimposed onto some strange, foreign town. He’d never seen his own creation from the outside. Left unattended, it had grown to frightening size.

Wind cut against his face, and Berdly did nothing to counter it. He didn’t have the energy for it, nor did he really care anymore. Berdly wings were the first to go slack, and the rest of his body followed suit as it resigned itself to the familiar comfort of the Dark World. This wouldn’t be the first time he’s fallen out of the sky, but this time, he knew that someone was going to be there to catch him.

Berdly knew the facts better than anyone: the higher you flew, the harder you fell. Closing his eyes, he let the comfort of familiarity take the reigns once more.

"Young Master! Hold on!"

Susie groaned as she picked herself off the ground. To her credit, she landed feet-first, but the ensuing earthquake caught her by surprise. Taking a look around, it was clear that she and Kris weren’t in Castle Town. At least, it wasn’t entirely Castle Town.

Chuncks of brick wall from Ralsei’s castle were crudely shoved in between the decorated navy wallpaper of the banquet-style hall they were in. Like a bunch of tropical birds on display, Susie and Kris were dropped right in the centre of a caged-off circle onstage. Towering above them was a circular column of shelves, and they were at the bottom.

“Hey, what the hell is this!?” Susie banged against the Fountain bars before jumping back in surprise. “Wait, RALSEI???”

A small goat boy dressed in sleek black satin was staring back in disbelief.

“Susie!? Kris???”

“Ralsei, where the hell are we?”

“You’re in – you’re not one of them are you?” He squinted hard to focus on what he was seeing. Without his glasses, Ralsei had a hard time telling who was what, and Susie was looking a bit paler than the last time he saw her. There was no telling what material she was made of. “The entire place just started shaking, so I came to investigate!”

“Just tell me what this is!”

“You mean the Fountain safeguard? It’s meant to keep people out, but I suppose… wait, are you the real Susie? You would know this if you were one of the staff.”

“Yes, dammit! I mean, no. I’m not the staff. Agh, you know what I mean! Keep people out of where???”

“The Fountain! Wait, if you’re here, then – where’s Berdly?”

“You know him?”

“Susie, you have to listen to me. The other Fountain is Berdly. He normally comes in through the Fountain gate, right here. But now that the Fountain is gone, it means that he has arrived, because he carries it with him until he sets it back down again!”

“Uh, that’s…”

“Susie, watch out!”

A loud thud knocked the three of them out of their daze. Scattered on the ground was a large book had fallen out from its shelf far above, its spine bent, and pages loose from their binding.

An anguished cry erupted from the folds of the pages.

“C-come back!! I’m not done with you yet!”

Kris and Susie tried to back away, but the Fountain safeguard was trapping them in the same circle as the opalescent beast. White and manilla papers began to curl at the edges, contorting themselves into sharper, three-dimensional shapes. Slowly, a streak of full purple formed in some places, with golden yellow in others, like the imitation of a natural shadow. Stroke by stroke, the details of the face became clear. It was as though someone were drawing onto a blank canvas, giving weight to its appearance, and tricking the viewer with an illusion of pain, etched onto the outermost layers of paper skin.

“Come here punk! Who the hell do you think you are?”

Susie recognized the sound of that voice.

“I’ll tear you to pieces. C-come… b-back, Berdly. I’ll teach YOU the damned lesson this time!”

Crumpling paper and ripping flesh echoed across the rest of the dining hall. The mass of papers formed a body, and the shapely stubs of arms and legs began to twist into place. However, the spine was bent badly out of place in the middle and its arms were flailing about, disfigured to match the state of the book it had come from.

Susie wanted to put it out of its misery, but something about beating someone while they were down felt particularly distasteful. The squirming creature in front of her kept fighting, but Susie easily towered above it now, years older. This was fourth grade Susie. There was no mistaking it.

Kris leapt forward and cut through the unfinished being with their sword, to shreds.

Susie looked at Kris, and then back to the torn remains of the book by their feet. Something was different about Kris while they were in the Dark World. Blue skin and silver chest plate aside, there was something foreign about the way they stood, and how they walked. Susie could tell the difference between family member’s footsteps very keenly. She grew up cautiously paying attention to whether the adults around her were beginning to act differently, or show signs of abnormality, perhaps from a late night of activities, or for reasons unexplained. The lack of mercy was something she knew all too well. It wasn’t something Kris could pull off… not without a little push.

“Kris, that thing looked like me! What the hell were you thinking, going ape mode on it like that?”

Kris stared back lukewarmly. A flicker of something shone behind the eyes, once again covered by smooth, strategically placed bangs.

“That thing behind your shirt,” Susie pressed on. “What is it? You’re hiding something, aren’t you?”

Before Kris could decide whether or not to respond, the ground began to shake again, sending more bookshelves creaking above them.

“We must be in Berdly’s Dark World.”

“Uh, Susie? Kris? We need to focus! Listen carefully, you need to get to the top of the tower. I figured it out! If you two showed up here, then that means Berdly must have showed up here as well, or else there would be a Fountain where you’re standing! If he’s not down here with you, then he must be in the tower somewhere.”

“How do you know that? He could be anywhere!”

“No, trust me. He made sure that the Fountain safeguard was absolutely flawless. Nothing gets to the Fountain without his permission. Nothing arrives get to leave either. Believe me, I tried to get around it.”

“You mean Berdly set this up?”

Ralsei winced.

“No, it was… Listen, you just need to get up to the top of the tower. This is where Berdly appears when he arrives. ALWAYS. But make sure the butler doesn’t spot you.”

“Ralsei, what’s so bad about this tower that you have to warn us about it? And… who’s this person you keep talking about?”

Panic took over Ralsei as he nervously looked over his shoulder. “H-He took my glasses. He could be anywhere. Do you remember? A large bird… he was there in Cyber World. He’s been by Berdly’s side ever since.”

Ralsei yelped as Susie grabbed his arm and pulled him through one of the larger gaps in the bars. Susie and Kris may not have been able to fit through, but Ralsei made it in no problem.

“Then we should all stick together. Three against two aren’t bad odds.” Susie looked down at him surprised. “Hey, you’ve uh... gotten way thinner.”

She didn’t expect him to go in for a hug, but she didn’t pry him off like she normally would have. “Uh, yeah. Glad to see you too?”

Kris watched the way the two of them greeted one another. Laughing and smiling. Eating cotton candy. Playing festival games while Kris and Noelle were off doing their own thing.

Suddenly, a large shadow dropped next to them.

“Consorting with the enemy, tableboy?”

Ralsei let go of Susie and scrambled to the edge of the cage. Susie, who was having none of it, reached down to fetch the empty hardcover book and chucked it right for Swatch’s head as hard as she could. The crack of the book’s spine as it fell apart completely was crisp and maliciously satisfying. It left a small mark on his face and to Susie’s pleasure, a few of his feathers fell off, along with his glasses.

“Hey, Sebastard! Tell us where Berdly is!”

The large ominous figure stood coldly, refusing to seethe in anger or show even a shred of disturbance.

“My name is Swatch. I’m pleased to share that the Young Master is safely in his quarters,” he said in a low voice. “He isn’t… up to appearances today.”

“What did you do to him?”

“He is well under my care. And I anticipate that soon, I’ll be taking care of the three of you, as well.”

“Tough talking for a guy who’s backed into a wall. You’re surrounded.” Susie flashed a row of teeth, snarling. “Berdly’s a bastard but he’s our… friend, sort of! I don’t care if he hasn’t straightened his feathers yet, you can’t stop us from seeing him!”

“Young lady, I’m merely carrying out my duties as butler. I suggest you step aside and let me do my job. Now, where have you tossed my glasses?”

“To hell with your job! Aren’t butlers supposed to introduce people to the homeowners or whatever?”

“One of my many duties. You can let your friend describe to you the range of hospitalities that we have to offer to our guests: Lavish banquets, artwork so mesmerising it leaves you breathless, and carpets so soft that they make you feel as though you’re sinking endlessly into them, all while you wander in our labyrinth of novelties – old and new.”

He snapped his fingers and the metal bars around them creaked in their place. Lurching around the circle, they began to rotate, counter-clockwise and in unison.

“There’s something for everyone. I’m sure your friend can indulge your curiosity for some of the other flavours of things we have. Why are you backing away, little prince?”

The harsh jolt of the bars jostled the base of the tower. Ralsei’s magic flickered as more books fell off their shelves above them, echoing down to where they were standing.

“Susie… it’s right above us. We should make haste –”

“Oh, and where do you think you’ll be going, tableboy? You couldn’t possibly be attempting to leave your station, are you? Speaking of which, I remember telling you quite clearly that it was strictly forbidden to enter the Archives. Perhaps you and your friends need a reminder.”

Following Susie’s lead, Ralsei stood his ground. “Then, why were you up there? I don’t remember Berdly ever saying that you could go up there!”

Swatch’s eye gleamed. “What are you accusing me of?”

“N-nothing sir… I mean, umm –”

Susie clenched her fists and tried to stand firm in her conviction, but she could feel Ralsei and Kris backing away slowly. Swatch tapped a talon on the floor impatiently, as he counted the beats against his pocket watch. The grinding of metal against wood eventually synchronized to his lead.

One.

Two.

Three.

Something gleamed beneath his coat of feathers – iridescent and pearlescent. It shifted in selection as Swatch continued to make his mind about what he was going to do. The heroes watched as the reflection of light transformed at the tip of his hand – a brief flash of red, then blue, and green.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Susie kept her eyes fixed to Swatch as his demeanour changed. “Leave Ralsei alone. We don’t need your help finding Berdly. In fact, we’re leaving.”

Swatch’s talons scraped against the floor as he began to walk towards them.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

“Then by all means, allow me to escort you out.”

Ten.

Swatch’s wings unfurled with a quick billowing of the atmosphere, revealing a set of bright blue feathers peeking beneath his coat. Carefully, he flicked his arms, and a few loose blades fell to the ground. One feather grazed its tip with the floor and Kris sank down in an instant, coloured by an ultramarine glow that spilled out through the cracks of their chest plate. Susie and Ralsei joined in, with a thud of knees against heavy wood.

“When this manor becomes dirty,” Swatch said, shifting his palette again. “It’s my duty to clean up the filth.”

Chapter Text

Susie pressed two palms against the floor.

“You’re the only filth that that’s getting wiped off the face of the Earth today.”

She heaved herself up by the tightening of her upper arms, pushing against the grain of Swatch’s magic. One arm hooked beneath Ralsei’s arm and lifted him onto his feet. Another found its way to the edge of Kris’s elbow, and eventually, all three of them were leaning against each other, barely standing up.

* Blue Magic: gravity manipulation.

* You feel the weight of your sins along your back.

“Look, just let us go. We’re not actually here for Berdly. We came to shut down a Fountain.”

His magic was nothing like Ralsei’s, Susie thought as she buckled under the weight of two additional people. This was magic that pressed all the bones in your spine together and numbed your legs. It weighed on your shoulders and pushed you into the ground face first if you let it.

“Young Lady, don’t waste my time with semantics.” Swatch was unimpressed. His voice was lukewarm, if not a little irritated. “If you’re here for our Fountain, then you’re here for him. Let’s get on with it.”

Susie shook her head. “I said we’re here to shut down a Fountain – it doesn’t have to be yours.”

Swatch tilted his head in surprise. The room was silent. Appalled, Ralsei was the first to speak up.

“Susie! What – what are you trying to say? That’s my home!”

“Oh?” Swatch’s eyes narrowed to slits. “What a ground-breaking argument. I was actually about to say that sounds like a formidable solution.”

“Ralsei, just stop.” Susie looked to Kris for support, but quickly turned her head away. “We’ve done enough damage. Let’s just go before – ”

“No!” Ralsei pleaded. “This wasn’t the plan! Susie, if you’re thinking of evacuating everyone from Castle Town to here, we’ll never do it in time. The Roaring may be starting already, but we’re already here at the base of The Archives! Look! There may still be time to set things right.”

Susie glanced up at the endless expanse of winding stairs, trailing up until they became too hard to see. Kris did the same, but Susie tried not to think about that they were thinking. She fought back the rising bile in her throat before speaking again.

“Ralsei, you and I have a very different idea of what went wrong.”

“But Susie, we have to try!” Ralsei put on a brave face and turned to face Swatch. “Listen before you strike! If Berdly made the Fountain, then he should decide what to do with it. Bring him down and let Kris talk to him!”

“Ralsei that’s… that’s never going to work. You don’t get it at all.” Susie winced as her knees finally gave in to fatigue, sending the three of them crashing down with a thud. Ralsei sprawled out on the ground, and Susie rushed to pulled him closer and away from Swatch’s looming figure. “Berdly’s the one who doesn’t want to see us.”

“I know what to do.”

“No, you don’t. If you want him to give up the Fountain now, we’ll probably have to force him, one way or another. There’s no other way.”

Susie fought back the rising bile in her throat. She imagined shoving Berdly against the wall as he begged them not to do it. She had seen the size of that monster that came out of Berdly’s book, and the way Berdly tensed up in class whenever Kris leaned forward to whisper something in his ear. If that was how he saw Susie back in fourth grade, there was no telling what he thought of the two of them now.

I’m not going to do that, Ralsei, Susie wanted to say. I’m not like that anymore.

“For all we know,” she said softly, “taking the Fountain from him might really hurt him.”

“Susie, we don’t actually know that. For all we know, we could be helping Berdly! He thinks that we’ll forget about him like last time, but if we go up there right now and tell him we came just for him, he’ll change his mind. I know he will!”

Susie shook her head. “He’s stubborn. Even if he wasn’t, nobody changes their mind this fast.”

“But – !”

“Little prince, shh.” Swatch said in a softer tone. He had listened to enough squabble, and it was starting to get n his nerves. “Your friends are right; the Young Master would never entertain your request. I’m merely acting in the boy’s best interests.”

“Kris, Susie? What is he talking about?”

Swatch pulled out another feather from his coat and held it out in front of them, this time, in the colour green. The group watched as it slowly drifted to the ground, and instantly, the magic seized them. Frozen in place and unable to move their mouths, they could only watch as Swatch crouched down to meet the three of them at eye-level.

“I’m going to offer you a deal.”

Kris was face-to-face with Swatch. They could feel the heat of magic from his hand as he moved to pull a latch on either side of Kris’s shoulders. Their metal chest plate fell to the floor with a clang, and Swatch tugged it out from underneath. He raised it so that everyone could get a good glance at it before tossing it as far as he could. The spinning blades of the Fountain safeguard caught it just as it reached the edge of the cage and a horrible screeching erupted: metal searing itself through metal. From the periphery of Kris’s vision, they could see twisted scraps flung back to the centre of the circle, in shreds. The bars around the Fountain continued to spin like nothing had happened.

“You know, I could let the natural design of things take care of you lot, but I’m not privy to soiling the floors. If that weren’t enough, I have to also admit that having two Fountains around does seem to be an urgent problem.” Swatch gestured at the ruined architecture of what once used to be their great dining hall. Bits of Castle Town stuck out from the walls, leaving the manor in shambles.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Kris could hear the beat of Swatch’s pocket watch behind his vest. They were running out of time.

“Thanks to your friend however, I’ve decided that there is in fact, a better solution. I can take you to the other Fountain right now. You demonstrate to me how you shut it down, and after this is done, I’ll allow you and your group to leave peacefully. Your friends have evidently made up their minds already, so it’s up to you to settle the score.”

“…”

“Oh, right. How could I forget?”

Swatch snapped his fingers and felt the muscles around his body start to relax again as he let go of the magic. With a sharp intake of fresh air, Kris doubled over and immediately pressed down on their chest in pain. Susie and Ralsei gasped beside them, still kneeling on the floor.

Kris looked up at the vast expanse up above.

For a few seconds, Kris could do nothing but stare. The manor had an unparalleled ability to transfix you. Golden book spines glittered like stars, and by observing them, it made the size of the manor grow tenfold.

There was something awe-inducing about the sheer expansiveness of The Archives. Hollowing out above, it carried with it a sense of depth. It gave the appearance of a beautiful, darkened sky, pulling you weightlessly above the ground the longer you looked. With the blood rushing back to their ears, Kris could hear a chorus chattering from above, though the exact words were indistinguishable from the ground. It was an alluring noise, despite being complete nonsense. It beckoned you with something distantly familiar from the past, though you could never quite place your hand on what it was.

Kris listened to the sounds from Berdly's past. They echoed down from the top of ivory tower, far beyond Kris’s reach. Among the voices, they could hear their mom, and even Asriel, clear as day. His voice was rich, and heavy, unlike the radio static that Kris received once every two days via video call. The knowledge that Berdly had created a private world where he was situated at the top made Kris’s blood boil. With so much vertical distance to cover, they would never reach the top.

No, said a part of Kris that had been waiting for its chance to speak, not as long as people like Berdly are up there waiting to kick the rest of us back to the ground.

That’s why you deserve some help.

The anger festered throughout Kris’s extremities, flooding out until they could feel the tingling of sensation returning to their fingers. Berdly didn’t live life the way Kris did. He was rude and pretentious, and yet, there were always people ready to be around him. He lived in an entirely different reality.

Kris’s father lived in a run-down apartment away from home, the open joke of the town. Kris called their brother once every two weeks. Kris didn’t have people to tell them how brilliant they were, day in and day out. They felt very much like a victim.

Naturally, a perpetrator must exist – someone whom you need to defeat.

The ache behind Kris’s eyes disappeared, and slowly, the old bitterness gave way to something else. It was an objective to fulfill – a purpose.

A sharp stab made its way through the rest of Kris’s body, climbing across their back to reach the calves of their legs. Slowly, and without Susie’s help, Kris lifted a leg off the ground and got back into standing position. The floorboards creaked beneath their feet.

* That’s it…

* Standing tall and dignified, you feel your body grow stronger.

Kris knew that the power was always made ready. All it required to activate these days was inaction – a certain feeling of indifference, a certain disregard for tomorrow as morning crept closer to you, and a vital mixture of having nothing and wanting absolutely anything. It had to be kept under a shroud of secrecy because if you broke one taboo, people assumed you were willing to break them all. Kris felt something settle deeper into their soul. Gone were the days of eating alone at the breakfast table when hunger no longer soiled the body’s spirit, and when all choices were maximized for efficiency. No more waiting by the flower shop or dialing the phone for Asriel, when two weeks after that fateful day, Kris Dreemurr had become the rising star of the town. They didn’t need anybody.

* Except me.

Susie twisted her neck to catch the sight of Kris suddenly standing up and raising their sword to meet the base of Swatch’s neck. Kris’s grip on the hilt of the sword was so strong that their knuckles began to white. Muscles flexed and contracted to produce sharp, clear lines where Kris’s palm ended and where their wrist began. Susie and Ralsei couldn’t believe what they were witnessing. The humiliation of that Spelling Bee became chronic with them, but not anymore. The true cause of that feeling had been identified – someone whom it was justified to hurt, and that was what made the predator.

“You ruined my life,” The books whispered distantly from above. “Beyond recognition.”

However, Kris wasn’t here anymore. They couldn’t listen to anything sound past the sudden and painful ringing in their ears. Their jaw opened all on its own.

“We’re here for Berdly.”

A fierce, immaculate look of hostility etched itself onto Kris’s face like a crude factory print, stark and empty, if not for the universal meaning it conveyed. Swatch had already decided what he was going to do. All he needed was that verbal confirmation.

With the quick swipe of his right hand, he lurched forward and knocked Kris backwards into the spinning blades of the Fountain safeguard. Kris yanked their head to the side, narrowly avoiding being caught. A mess of feathers had stuck themselves to Kris’s front, no longer shielded by their plate armour.

Swatch flicked his wrists.

Strands of purple magic snapped to Kris’s soul, and with a harsh tug, he dragged them across the floorboards, knocking their head against the ground with a resounding thud. Kris’s face twisted as something heavy rested on their back, pressing them into the ground. They gasped a sharp breath of air as the pain started to flower their vision with specks of white.

“Get off me!” Kris screamed. Swatch’s weight dug painfully into the crook of their spine as he pulled the strings taut along their length. Kris’s eyes widened as they realized what was about to happen. “Susie!”

Swatch gave another tug, and unknowingly, the soul had separated from Kris’s body, pulled out of their chest. It felt like they were being ripped into two.

              Regret didn't follow the first time it happened. The cosmic design of things had seized them without notice, first by the mind, and then by the twisting of a wrist. The lips of that Spade King dripped with poison, and so, Kris didn't regret it the second time, nor the third.

              The Father, Kris thought abstractly as something tightened in their chest. A borrowed strength carried them across the battlefield, ready to strike for Lancer’s sake. The Son.

              In this world, Kris was a hero, and heroes were on the side of good.

Susie didn’t know what overtook her. All she knew was that right now, her legs were carrying her towards Kris. Time slowed down and above, millions of books shuddered in their place, woken up by the commotion. They sang in unison, and with a special significance no one else would have understood.

              Hurry! Kris is down!

              Noelle, here’s your chance!

Anger seized her body. She was now half a second away from her mark. Her eyes were fixed to the red object in Swatch’s grasp.

              … Noelle?

              What are you doing?

Susie’s arms rose on their own. The voice was loud and clear now:

“Proceed”

              Noelle’s strength was unparalleled. Her eyes became glassy as soon as she realized what she had done.

              Blood dripped from a thorn ring, white with frost. She stared down at the sea of stagnant water, turned to ice. Her hand was still outstretched, red seeped into the whites of as asphyxiation made the capillaries break.

              “I-I think I’m going home,” Noelle said. She stumbled out of the alley, defeated, even though the two of them had won.

              Kris didn’t immediately flee. They stood there; breath held in front of their face by the fog. It was difficult to see past their reflection staring right back at them, trapped within the ice. Their body wouldn’t budge until the rest of the scene had passed.

Susie slammed her axe against the thickest bit of flesh she could see. He tried to flee, but as quick as her blade, Susie’s swinging arm had reached the end of its rotation and struck through his leg.

Swatch’s scream pierced the atmosphere.

She grabbed a heap of feathers and yanked until her hands were covered in a mess of black. From afar, Ralsei drew further and further away, terrified of the scene that was unfolding. The two of them fought like animals, ripping into each other like it would be their last meal. In a miscalculated step, Susie’s axe grinded against the base of the tower, tilting one of the metal bars on its axis. Swatch fell from her grip, letting of something scarlet, which fell the floor. Kris scrambled to retrieve it until Swatch kicked their hand away.

“Wretched Lightners…!” Swatch’s voice deepened to a growl as he clawed his way around. “Look what you’ve done to me!”

A single talon lay twitching, separated from its host like a parasite. Dripping onto the floor was a thick, coagulating ink, and it smeared across the boards as Kris writhed around, trying to get away.

“Stop it! Susie! He’s hurt, he’s badly hurt!” Ralsei rushed to pull Susie’s arm back, but the bulk of the damage had already been done.

With adrenaline-hazed eyes and momentum-drunk body, Susie tried to push Ralsei away. However, with one ear-splitting screech, she snapped out of her daze. The bars had begun to collide with one other, starting with the one that Susie had lodged out of place.

“Don’t you know what will happen to all the books!?” Swatch yelled. “The Archives make up the structural core of the Manor!”

The metal snapped, and the base of the tower crumbled. The floorboards sunk under the weight of the shelves above and soon, the Fountain safeguard was no more.

“They hold the entirety of the Young Master’s – ack!”

Swatch plummeted into the dark below as the metal tore through the floor, ripping a deep hole where the ground had been. The three heroes ducked for cover as the first layer of shelves above came crashing down with a cataclysmic boom, kicking up the dust of everything above it.

Susie was breathless from fighting and coughed on the dust as it came off a million shelves and into the atmosphere. All around her, black feathers and dried ink-like fluid decorated the ground like a crime scene. She gulped, fingertips twitching with aftershock, and absolutely filthy.

What the hell did I do?

She couldn’t remember completely. It had all gone by so fast. However, this was their chance to leave and they had not a second to waste, with the tower teetering on its own feet and the manor rapidly falling apart.

She spotted the first escape route: the first set of shelves were barely supported by the remaining floor but still close enough for them to grab on to. A large hole had been carved out through the centre, leading straight into an abyss below, but the spiral staircase was still attached, meaning they could walk up that way. It was tedious and ineffectual, but the place was technically being generous, seeing as it had been primarily built for one specific bird.

“He’s up there. We have to get him out or the whole place is going to tip over!”

“Over there!” Ralsei yelled. “Susie, come on. Kris, you too – where are you going?”

Laying there on the floor was the unmistakeable mass of a human soul, piercing red, and thumping with the magnitude of drums. From a fair distance away, Susie could still hear its voice calling out to her. It was utterly transfixing.

“Susie, Kris! We have to move! The tower is sinking!”

Susie looked up at the first set of spiral stairs, which would take them up to the top. “Ralsei’s right. We have to move.”

“Wait, hold on. I – I can’t find those glasses he dropped. I still can’t see!”

“Forget them.” Her breath was still staggered, but there was no time to lose. “They’re gone. I saw them drop in the moment the floor went out. Look, I’ll help you up, but we have to move – Kris!”

Kris clamoured across the remaining chunks of the floor, desperately grasping around until something bright and warm settled into their hand. Without a moment’s hesitation, Kris scooped it off the ground and pressed it into place.

Nothing happened at first. Then, the sensation hit them all at once.

The liquid willpower seeped back into their cavities until their chest hurt like a pincushion. Kris hacked and spluttered on the ground, their lungs filling with a heavy weight that replaced the old air. The pulse of their arms and wrists was imperceptible at first, but gradually, Kris settled into form: chest puffed out, sword drawn, and skin flushed with red, crimson life. Tormenting and frightening by the ways its hues bruised across the skin, Kris was once again, indistinguishably human. The red had long faded back to blue, and if anyone looked now, they couldn’t have known what had happened. They were something else entirely, better than before, and back to normal.

Kris’s mouth gaped open, and words came spilling out without a pause.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

               There is magic in this room.

               I don't know if you can see it.

Berdly was awoken by the sound of banging in the distance. The sound of choppy radio music flooded his senses, sharp as the scent of old manilla pages all around. He was on the couch in his living room.

Although there was something familiar about the place, it all felt strangely detached from him. He didn’t remember the room being so crowded with this household junk, and the awful lighting made the place practically uninhabitable. Dread settled over him, as he started thinking about how long it would be until his father got home to witness the state of the place. He didn’t stay at the house for long, but when he did, he expected things to look more or less the same.

This wouldn’t do, Berdly thought as he rose up from his seat. The place had practically eroded in the time that his father left for work.

Berdly coughed as the motion kicked up a flurry of dust. It settled back down on his darkened coat like dirty snow, and Berdly waved his arm around to no avail as it only stuck to him even more. He reached over to the table and began to clean. To him, it was as familiar of a motion as walking by virtue of how many times he repeated the motion at home, at the library, and at Ms. Boom’s office every third weekday. He dusted off one of the books resting on the table and lingered on the golden, guilded words that shone back at him.

Curiosity got the better of Berdly, and he opened the book to a random page.

“It’s…”

“Were you expecting something else?”

“It’s so colourless, it’s like cigarette ash, which I guess IS a colour, but you know what I mean. I thought it would look like the colour of her fur or something, like powdered pigment.”

“Death is mundane, I don’t know what else I can tell you. It was entirely preventable in her case.”

“So, um… I know you aren’t allowed to say stuff about patients but like –“

“Nicotine addiction.”

“Oh.” Berdly set the jar of monster dust down on The Doctor’s table. “Uh, that’s no good.”

"She’s donated it elsewhere for research. That’s the only reason why I’m allowed to show you.” The Doctor grumbled as pressed a wing to his forehead in frustration.

 "Um… that’s all I really wanted to see. So, uh, there’s no one else coming in at this time. Does that mean we’re going home now?”

 “I’m practically the only expert on her case,” he said, unrelated to what Berdly was saying. He observed the jar once more, waiting for something to happen, even though nothing would ever come of it. The reaction had been completed, from its accelerated start all the way to its poor, cancer-ridden end. “Most hospitals have their own research laboratories, not just the ones for basic testing. Fully funded labs that produce papers. I could have written about this.”

“That’s cool, I guess.”

“– But Mayor Holiday refuses to fund any kind of decent work that I want to do. The whole town council claims our municipal funds are better off going to other endeavours like that sloven library you love so much or that school. That insufferable woman…”

Berdly was taken aback by The Doctor’s sudden change in attitude. “Hey, maybe she – “

“You know, when I started family medicine, I didn’t think it’d be like this.” He put his head in his hands. “History never remembers what little people like me do. Nobody gives a damn about the small-town checkup doctor who manages a three-bed clinic. I graduated at the top of my class. I thought I was going to be writing journal papers for Nature.”

Berdly rolled his eyes. “Logically speaking, shouldn’t it be an accomplishment if a hospital never has more than three sick patients at once?”

The Doctor scowled. “That’s not even remotely how it works!”

“Well, what I meant to say was – “

“I don’t need a child to console me. What, do you pity me or something?”

“No! What the hell?” Berdly felt the heat rising to his face. “I literally just asked whether we were going to go home or not!”

“Fine. Fine! If you want to go home so badly, then lets go home. You’re the one who asked to see the damn dust in the first place – ”

Berdly closed the book and let it sit in his lap as he sat there, dazed. What had started off as a quick reading had turned to several minutes of being transported elsewhere, and Berdly lost track of time. The scene was so vivid, Berdly could feel the heat trailing down his back, and the bridge of his beak start to scrunch.

Nature in Review: Topics in Endocrinology and Cancer Research

He shoved the book aside, and made his way around the room, realizing quickly that he wasn’t actually in his house. He was back at the manor, somewhere unrenovated, and the interior looked nothing like the regular rooms of the main floors. Around him, it looked like someone had been stockpiling books. From the neglected state of the room, it looked like they intended to discard them here and lock them away for good.

“Swatch!” Berdly coughed into his sleeves as he called out his name, the dust of the past clogging his throat. “Hey, are you here?”

He looked around at the piles and piles of old texts that trailed up to the ceiling. There was so much junk filling up the living room that he could barely make his way around to the kitchen table.

It looked like there had been an infestation. Familiar titles were shoved into every crevasse of the room, in places Berdly didn’t think to check. They made up the tiles of the floor, and the cabinets were full of them too, stuffed to the brim. It was worse than the claustrophobic dungeon that was his father’s work office. At least there, a bit of sunlight peeked through. Here, there was nothing outside the fake kitchen windows but the plain backdrop of the Dark World. The bitter scent of coffee latched onto his clothes like tar. The sharp edges of books lay like exposed bricks on the floor. Whatever this place was, it was almost certainly a dumping ground, hidden from the rest of the manor like some shameful secret.

Fifty Uses for Baking Soda Around the Home – A Domestic Guide

Grayson’s Anatomy – Fifth Edition with Annotated Bibliography

Developmental Biology, another book read on the cover. Third Edition.

The thought of his father brought Berdly back to his senses.

They’ve probably already announced the winners of the Spelling Bee already and everyone’s going to head back home. He expects me to take those LFAs. I have to get out of here.

The details of how he got here were fuzzy. He had been in the hallway outside the gym, and then he came across Kris and Susie. The pieces were all falling back into place as Berdly recalled them clearly now. Kris and Susie had cornered him in the hallway, looking to close the Fountain. Somehow, Berdly had fallen back into the Dark World, but just before he could fall, Swatch had caught him.

Berdly’s soul sank. The that mean they here in the manor with him?

“Hey Swatch, can you just give me a sign? If you’re here somewhere?”

With no one around, Berdly began to panic. They were after him, surely. In a few moments, they would be knocking at his door, ready to come close his Fountain, and Berdly had no idea what that actually entailed. He wasn’t exactly a front-row witness to it the first time something like that had happened.

Berdly put the book on the table and scoured the room for a way to leave. There was no time to waste. He had to find Swatch and tell him that Kris and Susie were on their way. Better yet, he could figure out where he was so he could get back to the Fountain room and safely return home. Swatch had warned him against leaving the Fountain out exposed, and Berdly agreed that it was a bad idea. The thought of Kris and Susie somehow closing it from the inside while he was still in the Lightner’s World sent a shiver down his back. Would he immediately turn to dust or something? Berdly didn’t want to imagine what his father’s reaction would be if he just crumbled and died in front of him.

A loud bang erupted from somewhere in the distance, and the room began to shake.

Berdly barely had time to duck under the table when suddenly, he was being flung into the side of the table, colliding with a sharp thud. He groaned, clutching his side. His knees hitting the floor next, as he doubled over from the pain.

“Hey… is someone out there? Swatch, I know it’s you!” If Swatch had caught him, then logically, he had been the one to put him here. Perhaps he had been in a rush and dropped him off in the first spare room he could fine, not expecting him to have woken up. “Oh my god, you didn’t leave me here, did you!?”

Berdly shoved the thought aside. Swatch was definitely coming back for him. These were extenuating circumstances and whatever had taken Swatch away for the time being must have been important.

Important.

The word left a nasty aftertaste in his mouth.

He raced for the front door, tripping over the heavy books that lay in his way as he looked for something to hang on to.

It’s locked. Damn it! The doors here are never locked!

The handle wouldn’t budge no matter which way Berdly fumbled with the switches and handle.

Far below him, another crash could be heard, this time louder and trailing up what sounded like a hollow chamber. He hung onto the handle with dear life as the room swayed back and forth, sending brick-sized projectiles plummeting down on him. He’d seen storage rooms at the hospital laboratory that were less of an occupational hazard than this. At least there, all the patient files were safely archived in locked cabinets bolted to the ground.

The Archives, Berdly’s eyes widened.

He looked around at all the abandoned books that littered the floor, untouched. There were all different shapes and sizes, some belonging to the first-floor library, and others taken right out from The Archives that Berdly was used to venturing.

That can’t be it. This place looks like it hasn’t seen the light of day in years.

But that was indeed where he was.

He bent down to take a look at what he was stepping on.

I Wish My Teacher Knew – by Kyle Schwartz

Lonely Astronaut Songs – A Playlist by Kris Dreemurr

Berdly could feel his resting rate climb as his hand brushed over the cover of another. This time, his name was written on it.

Ultimate Guide to Dictionary Words and Beyond – By Berdly and Noelle

It paralyzed him to the spot, the memories of that evening catching up to him at last. Berdly flinched and pulled his hand away. The thought of its contents might have once filled him with a sense of pride but now left him in a debilitating sense of regret. His life had been destroyed beyond recognition, and here he was, still trying to go back to it.

He sucked in a breath and coughed on the foul air. His body felt positively sicker with each passing second.

No, he thought. It’s fine. It’s okay – he’ll forgive me if I just do this one thing for him. And when those LFAs out clean, everything can be just like the way it used to be.

The manor responded unfavourably to that thought. Berdly braced himself for another mini earthquake, this time furiously tugging at the handle of the door. The tremours shook his body like he was in a fit of laughter. Rather, the whole place jostled like it were scoffing at him, as though to say, “have you forgotten how it used to be?”

In the aftermath of the commotion, several books had been tossed to the ground with their pages open. The radio crackled with newfound energy and the atmosphere of the room began to change.

“Father?” whispered the books in unison. “I didn’t think you’d be home so late.”

The kitchen lights were the first to flicker, basking the room in a familiar glow. Furniture began to move on its own, rearranging itself to the way it looked a few years ago. Berdly pressed his back to the front door, as a large bookshelf flung its way across the room to situate itself by the television. It grazed the front of his shirt, barely missing him. Dread beaded down his back and pressed his feather flat along the length of his spine. His soul raced painfully inside his chest, no thanks to the existing pain that had already built up over the two weeks he spent trying to keep it all in.

“It’s midnight already.”

Right on cue, the clock began to tick, its hands placed to a time just after twelve. A splitting headache erupted inside Berdly’s head.

Suddenly, the lock behind him clicked.

Susie watched the way the soul wriggled its way inside Kris’s chest and spread its tendrils. Kris sighed with relief, and Susie couldn’t believe it – it wasn’t their hand that took it out, but it was theirs that put it back in. The voice had come from the same source, Susie knew. It was that visceral anger, pushing her to cut through Swatch’s leg, and it left Susie positively disgusted.

“Is that thing… inside you right now?”

Kris said nothing.

“Calm down, turn around. I’m going to take it out. That thing’s clearly a problem.”

Kris flinched away from her outstretched hand to Susie’s immediate dissatisfaction.

“A… problem?” Their mouth barely moved, and their natural voice came out like a whisper. This wasn’t the Kris who had walked the halls just last week. This was more like the Kris that Susie remembered: the weird kid, the class loner, the creepy person who stalked the streets sometimes with no one walking with them. Dark bags were visible behind those bangs, swept to the side by the moisture building up along their forehead.

“If it’s not a problem, then what is it, exactly?” Susie’s voice carried an edge that Kris had never heard before. “And don’t give me that crap about Fountain keys. You’ve been acting strange for weeks now. What is that thing?”

“It’s… a solution.”

“To what exactly!?”

“Who do you think has been winning our battles?” Kris didn’t dare raise their head to meet her eye. It was positively humiliating. “You only became friends with me after I started winning.”

“…”

“S-Susie?”

“You really think that what you did counted as a win, don’t you?” Susie’s expression soured. “Well, I think it looks a lot like everyone eventually loses by being on your team.”

“T-That’s not true.”

“Oh yeah? What about Noelle? What did she ask you to solve?”

“Nothing.” Behind their eyes, Kris felt the sting of moisture growing. “I didn’t make her leave school.”

“That’s what you think.” Susie’s fist clenched. “But Noelle’s my friend. And she told me that she left because of you.”

Ralsei was the first to interrupt. He stepped back and darted his eyes back and forth between Kris and Susie. The atmosphere had changed, Ralsei could feel it, literally. A strange magic had filled the air between them, and Ralsei had a feeling it was not the healing kind.

“Susie? Kris? Can we start moving first? I think this place is about to collapse.”

“Right. We have bigger things to worry about. The way I see it, we can get Berdly first or come for him after. Either way, we have to climb out of this stupid hole and figure out a way to get to the other Fountain before it’s too late and both of them blow up or whatever. Then, we – ”

“Susie, Fountains don’t blow up.”

“Whatever. This is my first Roaring, okay?” Susie was midway through her sentence when Swatch’s screech cut through the void.

“Lightners… you wretched things.”

The three of them looked down in horror as Swatch dug his claws into the shelves and climbed his way up. The sides of the tower dripped with ink as he bled out onto the books. With wonky coordination, Kris began to do the same. They placed their arms to the side of the circular tower and began to inch their way onto the first bookshelf.

“What are you doing, Kris? There are literally stairs!”

They reached an arm up to the railing and heaved their body up, experimentally. Eventually, Kris settled their grip, and began to pull one foot onto the first ledge. Susie watched in amazement. You couldn’t see it before unless you knew what you were looking for. From the dimness of The Archives, Susie could see it clearly than ever: the glow behind Kris’s chest. More specifically, the thin lines of glow that traced up and down Kris’s arms as they climbed, like electric signals.

It was that expression. That relaxed, lukewarm expression that Kris always wore now.

“We climb.”

“No, Kris is right,” Ralsei said quickly. “It will be faster if we go straight up!”

“Dude, did you hit your head on a book?? How are you supposed to climb, you don’t even have your glasses!”

“But neither does Swatch. He’s at a disadvantage too.”

“He’s double your size!”

Susie tried to protest, but Kris had already reached a hand over and helped Ralsei up, leaving Susie standing alone on the wooden stage.

“Susie, we need Kris to close the Fountain. Let’s let Kris decide which way is faster!” Ralsei looked nervous as he squinted down below into the abyss, unable to see where Swatch was.

*The Archives are breaking apart.

*Fast and risky                         *Slow but safe

Kris kept climbing. “It’s risky, but it will be fast.”

“I still don’t like this plan. What happens when we actually meet Berdly up there? Rip the soul out from his body!?”

Kris hesitated in their tracks, but with a flex of the elbow, they kept climbing.

“Susie, we don’t know for sure what will happen to Berdly. For all we know, there’s a chance that he will still be okay if we do it in time. Susie, I’m not leaving without you. Please come?”

“… Fine.”

Susie reached a hand over to be pulled up.

“Kris, some help here? Susie’s a bit heavy… Kris?”

The sounds of Swatch’s talons scraping against the shelves below was growing louder.

Kris was transfixed by the books on the wall. Beautiful and ornate, no two books were exactly the same. By some magical wonder, the books were pressed neatly against each other, with no noticeable gaps. Kris watched in amazement as they pulled out a book at random and the gap began slowly pull itself back together in its absence like a living wound. Taut like horizontal pillars, they trailed across the circumference of the tower.

*Check.

An Amateur’s Recipe for Birthday Pie – A Dreamer’s Cookbook

The cover was worn and dusty, but its pages were still crisp and clean where it laid open in Kris’s hands. Unlike the others, there were no figures erupting from its folds. Instead, the book began to whisper and fill the room with the scent of cinnamon, oil, and the old living room.

And then, his voice came through the pages.

The sound of Kris’s name didn’t catch them by surprise as much as it did to hear Asriel talking again, and not just through the phone. His voice was eerily close to the real thing: clear and with a heavy quality that only real voices possessed. It wasn’t just his voice either, it was mom’s and dad’s voices too.

“Kris, what the hell are you doing, reading at a time like this!?” Susie grappled her way up the stairs with Swatch catching up close behind them. “Come on, it’s time to MOVE!”

               Berdly watched the way Kris’s family came together in the kitchen whenever it was time to eat. Their older brother was fumbling with the cake-cutting, and Mrs. and Mr. Dreemurr were arguing over whether they had enough plates. He sat back while the other kids tried to help.

               “Berdly, don’t look so stiff.” Asriel’s voice was warm and reassuring. “Are your folk usually quiet at the dinner table or something? Some families are like that.”

Berdly’s recount of that day wasn’t true to every detail, but he knew these people, enough to get their voices right in his memory. Kris was left stunned at the clarity of their voices through the page. In a moment, their eyes were pulled closed and for a second, it all felt so real. It was inauthentic, but in an admirable way by virtue of how little difference there was.

Susie made her way up to where Kris was and slapped a hand against the bookshelf, snapping them out of their trance.

“Give me that. What even is this thing?” Susie looked at the cover and back to Kris.

Ralsei rushed to Susie’s side. “It’s Swatch!” he said. “He’s here!”

The three of them watched as the tip of one pitch-black wing wrapped itself around the base of the stairs.

“You don’t know this place like I do. You don’t know what’s waiting for you at the top of the Archives.” Swatch had completely abandoned any sense of composure as he craped wildly at whatever he could latch on to. “The boy is fast asleep. He won’t be happy to see you there when he wakes.”

“He won’t be happy to see you there either! You’re not supposed to be in The Archives.” Ralsei yelled. “And we’re going to tell him that you’ve been messing around up there! He won’t come running to you then!”

Susie resisted the urge to tell him to shut up, as it was only agitating him further.

“What the boy doesn’t know won’t hurt him…”

Susie had an idea.

“Agh!” Swatch yelped in pain as Susie chucked a book right at his shoulder. It stalled him long enough for her to yank Ralsei up from the stairs and onto the shelves in climbing position.

“That should stop him temporarily.” For good measure, Susie plucked out another book and hit him again where one talon was still wrapped around the base of the stairs. “Look, I still think we should find a way out of here, and then we can come back later after the world’s been saved. Berdly will still be here. I mean, his goddamn butler is here to look after him and he literally only cares about one thing. If we can just get out of here, he’ll leave us alone.”

“No,” Kris said firmly. “We’re here for Berdly.”

Susie felt a sudden migraine creep up as something pounded at her ears.

“Ralsei, shut up!”

“Susie? I’m not saying anything.”

“Proceed”

Susie remembered the resistance of flesh against her blade when she cut off Swatch’s talon. The feeling of living tissue stopping the swing of her blade haunted her, and worst were Ralsei's yells, begging her to stop before she killed someone.

“Kris, that’s too far. I can’t just keep doing that. If he falls down… look, we still don’t know what’s up there. Maybe’s he’s right and we should stay back - ”

But then, Susie heard that voice again. Suddenly, she felt like she was neither mind nor body.

“Proceed”

The click of a lock behind him startled him.

“Berdly,” his father scolded as he walked in. “What were you doing, standing so close to the door? How many times do I have to remind you not to stand so close to something that can move?”

Berdly gulped. “Sorry, I just need to – never mind. I’m sorry Sir.”

His father shut the door behind him. Berdly noticed that he didn’t lock it.

“Oh boy, you weren’t waiting for me, were you?” His voice was warmer than Berdly remembered. “I’m sorry I didn’t send a text right away. Something happened at work today.”

He unbuttoned the front of his coat and set it aside on the coat rack, which wasn’t there a few minutes ago. Berdly recognized the little commercial tune he was humming and backed further into the living room. Outside was a cold gust of wind. This was a winter day and evidently, near Christmas. His father even carried a little pin on his lapel, which they had gotten at the grocery store during donation season.

It all seemed so familiar.

“What are you standing there for? I didn’t wake you up, did I?” The Doctor began to smile. “Well, if you’re already up, I suppose I can tell you about my day.”

Berdly couldn’t get over the fact that his father really did look different a few years ago. His complexion was brighter, and he didn’t wear that constant scowl on his face. Even when he was irritated, it didn’t show the same way it did now. Time had worn his patience thin, Berdly knew.

“That’s okay,” Berdly said. “Um, I just need to check if I left the outside lights on.”

“They’re off, don’t worry.” Berdly’s father put an arm behind his back and beckoned him deeper into the house and towards the kitchen. “It seems like you’ve grown. Berdly, what happened to your feathers? They’re much darker. Are you sick?”

Berdly shoved his hand away. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure you feel alright? Let me have a look.”

“Don’t,” Berdly said painfully. “Forget about it. It’s nothing.”

Berdly’s father sat down at the table and shook his head. “I suppose I tried.” He reached into his bag and pulled out some documents. “I have good news.”

Berdly couldn’t resist answering. “What news?”

“Mayor Holiday just approved of my research grant. It’s not much but the funds are enough to cover at least four years of research, possibly five. A portion of it is federal money of course, but the key was getting the rest from our municipal budget. I can’t believe it, an actual research team! I’ve already began sending letters out to old colleagues.”

“… Why?”

Berdly’s father looked up from the table, expression unreadable. Deep down, Berdly already knew the answer.

“Mr. Holiday has cancer.”

The news held a different significance now in retrospect. This was just shy of a few months before he had really gotten to meet Noelle.

“Look Berdly, I know it’s not good news. However, this is enough of a shock to Mrs. Holiday to get her to finally give me the greenlight on some actual work – work that can lead to a publication. It’s the start, Berdly! She agrees that we have the resources to develop a therapeutic for monster use. I have all the research planned out, you see – ”

Berdly watched as he flipped through his work binder.

“You see, every human has a different genetic makeup that alters their responsiveness to a therapeutic. I studied precision medicine for quite some time now, and we can easily match existing therapeutics to monsters, albeit with some chemical engineering. All it will take is some molecular biologists and we can get started on studying which pathways are causing Rudy’s – Berdly, are you listening?”

He leaned his elbows over the binder.

“Look, I’m going to be busy.”

“…”

“Starting tomorrow, dinner’s going to be in the fridge. Just eat without me. I have more important matters to attend to. Berdly, where are you going?”

Berdly felt something grip his shoulder and yank him back. His father didn’t look thrilled with him. “Son,” he said sternly. “Act like an adult. What’s going on?”

“I’m not an adult. If you haven’t forgotten.”

Berdly found himself back at the table with his father looming above him. He gulped and sat down in the other chair, still eyeing the door. With the room dead silent, he could hear something happening below, and the distant sounds of yelling.

“You’re proving difficult to manage.” His father paced around beside his chair. His breath smelled of late-night caffeine. “I can barely discuss anything with you without it devolving to an argument.” He pinched his forehead. “Tell me Berdly, what am I doing wrong?”

Berdly didn’t respond.

His father dropped his binder onto the table with a thud, startling him. “What about this arrangement upsets you now, huh? Kids your age are supposed to enjoy having the house all to themselves, so what could I possibly be doing wrong by you?”

He closed his eyes. “Nothing.”

“What did you say?”

“I said nothing. It all sounds perfect to me.”

His father’s hand was slightly shaking, though Berdly knew it was just from the evening coffee. The Doctor worked late nights and early mornings. Frankly, Berdly didn’t blame him. Some people’s parents smoked or drank. His father was an important research doctor. It only made sense that he had to drop some less important matters to attend to those who needed him more.

“Good,” his father said briskly. “And Berdly?”

Berdly thought about his father’s letter, the one sent just a day ago right after the big conference had finished.

That’s right, Berdly thought, he did it in the end. He presented to the board and now that therapeutic is headed for pre-market approval.

He should have been glad that it was finally over, but Berdly knew the truth. Deep down, he would always know that his father had forgotten him in that house, and it would only be easier to do the second time. Pre-market approval implied future projects, and Berdly was approaching the age of college. The years of childhood were ending. His father never was going to teach him to fly because he never intended to. He was always busy with something else.

His dream had never been to be Berdly’s Father. He was The Doctor, through and through.

Something prickled at the surface of his eyes. It stung where his pupils had been previously dry.

“Berdly? I apologize for dropping the binder, earlier. I didn’t think it’d make such a noise. Come on, we can watch some television before you go to sleep.”

Berdly got up and walked to the front door.

“Hey, where are you going?”

In a moment prior, Berdly was sure that he had made up his mind about leaving the manor permanently. Now, looking down at a beautiful navy hallway twisting forward into the dark, Berdly wasn’t so sure. All he knew was that a certain comfort awaited him down in the lower floors of the manor. His blackened feathers blended perfectly into the backdrop of his private maze as he ventured deeper into the tower.

Those LFAs will have to be taken at some later time.

Susie took in a deep breath. Her hand was bruised along the inside. What had happened?

“Left!” Kris called.

“W-What?” Susie made the mistake of looking right below. They were easily a hundred meters up from the hole in the ground. Swatch was nowhere to be seen. “Woah guys, hold the hell up! Where are we!?!”

“Susie?” Ralsei was panting heavily and hanging onto a shelf somewhere beside her. “Are you sure you’re okay? This is the third time you’ve asked that question. Susie, if you need to – nhghg – we can all take a break.”

“Left!”

“Susie, can you help me up?”

Susie did an awkward shuffle to the left and put a hand on Ralsei’s back as he awkward felt around the books for a good place to hold on to.

“Hey, what’s Kris yelling about?”

Ralsei looked at her confused. “Did you blank out? Oh, that’s okay! I’ll explain it to you again. Kris can see Swatch’s magic working its way around the shelves. If we don’t climb around them, we’ll get stuck, or worse, thrown off the shelves!” Ralsei shivered. “I’m just glad we landed on some stairs. That could have been a disaster.”

“Kris can see it, but we can’t?”

“Yeah, it’s a good thing we have Kris on our team.”

“Up!”

Susie took Kris’s word for it and hauled Ralsei up before following in his steps.

“Ralsei,” Susie whispered. “You saw that red thing Kris shoved into their chest earlier. Doesn’t it, I don’t know, freak you out? We shouldn’t be up here.”

Ralsei paused to take a breath. His arms were shaking. “Kris knows what they’re doing. They haven’t made a mistake so far. That ‘red thing’ is their soul, Susie. It’s the key to closing that Fountain.”

“Right but…” Susie didn’t know how to word it.

This time, it was Kris’s turn to pause.

“Kris? Where to now?” Ralsei’s voice was audibly strained as he struggled past the pain in his arms. “We’re almost there. I mean, I can’t see it, but the air up here is definitely getting thinner. Nghh… or maybe that’s just me.”

“Kris, slow down!” Susie yelled. “You’re not the one who has to help Ralsei up every step of the way. Hey, are you even listening? How come you always give the orders around here!? Look, if you’re gonna go off and do your own thing, then I’m going to just take the stairs. You can deal with Berdly yourself.”

Kris stopped in their tracks, just by the edge of the stairs.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Ralsei cautiously hopped onto the nearest railing and backed onto solid ground. He flexed the palms on his hands and stretched his back. Susie however, kept climbing up to where Kris was still hanging still.

“Hey, sorry for yelling like that. Come on. I thought we were getting off.”

Kris stared back through a curtain of bangs and said nothing but kept climbing.

“What – hey, where are you going? Kris, what about Ralsei?”

There was a stagnant pause before Kris spoke again. “There’s a fork in the road. We should split up.”

Susie gulped.

Just like last time. And I wasn’t around.

“We can’t just leave him here.” She could have sworn she saw Kris’s jaw flexing halfway open before shutting suddenly. Their grip tightened around the shelves but the rest of them didn’t move.

Kris continued climbing. Susie bit down her pride and looked down at Ralsei, who was still trying to catch his breath. Kris was quickly disappearing above. She let out a shaky breath and yelled something to Ralsei.

“You want me to do what!?” Ralsei didn’t catch the last of Susie’s request.

Kris was already moving up further ahead, and Susie didn’t have much else of a choice than to follow. It was true that Ralsei was looking exhausted and wouldn’t be able to keep following them, especially without his glasses.

“I said,” Susie repeated. “We’re going to come back for you. Make sure to keep an eye out for Swatch in case he’s still down there somewhere. He’s so big, you’ll probably be able to see him.”

She figured it wouldn’t hurt to have a sentry down here. It was better to think that they were doing this out of concern for the mission than abandoning him because he was starting to get in their way.

“Susie! Check the books on your way up!”

“What? Look Ralsei, I have to go – “

“Look, I know Berdly forbid anyone from coming up here, but I swear I’ve seen Swatch disappear at times. Maybe there’s information around that will help us! There has to be a reason why he comes here.”

Susie nodded and solemnly turned her head around. She had to do this. What other choice did she have?

They were getting very close to the top. Susie could see the architecture around them start to change as wood became sleeker in appearance, and the air grew colder. Kris left dents in the wood wherever they walked, and so, Susie had no difficulty in telling where to follow in their absence.

“Hey, I think I heard something.” Susie squinted in the darkness, unsure of where the sound was coming from. “Kris?”

The tower grew dimmer as they climbed. Susie could barely read in this lighting but took Ralsei’s advice and tried to see if there was anything about Swatch. Instead, she felt herself being pulled in by the soft whispers of the books.

               “This isn’t imposter syndrome, it’s just logic.”

               “I’m not smart enough to be here.”

Hearing Berdly’s voice coming out from the walls surprised her. She leaned in closer, but on a shelf above it.

“Kris, are you seeing this? Kris?”

Berdly’s nonsense continued to drift out into the atmosphere. The further Susie climber, the closer the things Berdly was talking about approached the present. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together to figure out what Berdly was referring to. It certainly helped that Berdly, for all his boasting about how complex his thought process was, categorically remembered things the same way everyone else did.

Susie pulled up to a higher set of books. She was just a few steps away from Kris now.

               “Everyone from class is here. They’re all rooting for me.”

               “He’s somewhere in the crowd. I can see his head.”

Something slipped beneath her foot and dropped into the abyss without another noise.

Fuck, well there goes another one, Susie thought. He has multiple of these, right? It’s not just lost forever now, is it?

She supposed it didn’t matter. This was some oddity that materialized the moment Berdly set a Fountain onto his own soul. Damage done in the Dark World didn’t leave its marks in the Light World.

Who was she kidding? She knew that wasn’t true.

               “This isn’t the library.”

               “Noelle! Are you here? Hey, what happened… and why are we wearing different clothes?”

Everything about this felt like a trap. The structure right above them was growing clearer as the stairs smoothed vertically into the walls. There were no more stairs at the top of the tower. Where the had steepen, wood transitioned into smooth cobblestone, parallel to the direction they were climbing Susie’s grip on the shelves was beginning to lax, not because she was falling, but because she could feel her weight pressing in a different direction now. It no longer felt like climbing. She was effectively crawling.

               “Queen has to be around here somewhere. Noelle too.”

The gravity of The Archives was changing. Soon, Susie was walking along the side of the books, rather than climbing them. The voices felt different when they came from below. It felt like they were coming from all around you and pulled your head down as you walked.

She thought about something that Swatch had said, what the boy doesn’t know won’t hurt him. The whispers around her seemed to indicate the opposite of what she assumed Swatch had done. There was a place in the manor where all of Cyber World seemed to come together. Surely, she thought, Berdly would grow sick of dwelling in a place like this, where the walls liked to remind you of all your worst days.

She resisted a snort. Susie had a place like that, and it was school. It was home too, and for the hell of it, it was half the town. Bad memories were everywhere, and the people looked at you in the halls or at the grocery store only made it worse. After everything that had happened, was there even a shred of possibility that Berdly wanted to go back to the regular world?

What I wouldn’t give to have a place like this to visit every now and then. Susie shook herself out of that line of thinking. That was almost the textbook example of a trap.

Behind her, the way they had climbed looked like an endless tunnel rather than a tower. Ahead of her, Kris was already waiting, sword in hand.

But where are you going to go after this? Susie wondered. She had already declared an hour ago that after this last mission, they would part ways for good. But I don’t actually want this to end. Can't it be like it used to? Before...

With their chest plate abandoned long ago, Susie could see the crimson glow behind their shirt. It threaded its wires around Kris’s spine like a parasite, and Susie could see the faint outline of human veins and vessels beating to the rhythm of Kris’s heavy breathing. Somehow, they never got tired in the Dark World, never talked much, but always knew what to say. The key to closing the Fountain, Ralsei had called it, but Susie knew that it was something else too. She inched closer behind Kris, and quietly raise a hand towards their shoulders. The other palm opened; fingers flexed but shaking with hesitation. She could end things here, take things into her own hand, and maybe stop Kris before they did another thing they’d regret.

The more she thought about it, Berdly had virtually no reason to cooperate. In the end, they probably would have to force his hand, one way or another. What was even the point of stopping Kris? They were winning by doing this. The world depended on it, and Susie was now the one stalling their inevitable task, and for what? To prove a point that Kris had gotten their hands dirty for no reason? That there had been a perfectly clean way to settle things had Susie been the one in charge?

Those words stuck with her: Why does Kris always get to pick? Come on Ralsei, you and I are teaming up this time. Susie scrunched her eyes. If she had gone with Kris that day, maybe things would not have gone so poorly. Maybe Kris wouldn’t have needed… whatever that thing was.

Her hand was so close to the back of Kris’s shirt. She had seen the way Swatch tore it out. She could do it again.

“She’s here,” the voices in pavement cried. Susie didn’t recognize the street they were in. “…and she’s with Kris.”

Static charge in the atmosphere raised the hair along her arms. Her hand yanked away from Kris, and instinctively summoned her axe, though she regretted it the moment she realized what Kris was staring at.

*Berdly stands in the way.

*1 left.

The sharp intake of breath was met by the sting of frost inside her throat.

Chapter Text

The evening street glow kept the library solemnly lit near the window ledge. On a rainy day, he had been instructed to take the hours off to return home, but there was no point in it. He walked into to the dark depths of the library, diffusing the scent of old manilla pages with the brush of a finger against a row of spines. As his body permeated through those narrow aisles, he let his mind slip from the surly bonds of hometown, imagining life as a world-famous someone-else. His hand rested on a book at last, and Berdly made his way back to the window to read.

“To me, the shadow trailing behind me at the end of the day appeared like an incantation. It loved the everlasting things, despite only existing for such a short time itself. Had I known it would follow me, I may have not ventured outside until I was ready. After all, shadows like that only appear in the light. It pestered me to stay, and to endure its whining, I had to resort to my bad habit once, twice, and eventually multiple times per day.

Most wouldn’t recognize it for what it was. I spent those couple weeks visiting my father and my friends. Suddenly, I realized that I had been alone in that house, left to play with the imagination while the sun went down and not even the shadows stuck around to follow me after that. Viewed in the light, it wasn’t so bad. It was only at the hour before the night that things grew uncontrollably and spread across the entire ground I walked. That restlessness was my weak excuse, and for that, I am very sorry.”

He was daydreaming at 11PM on a worknight, flowery words blooming on the paper like water bled across the street outside. Behind him, phone was ringing.

Magic was a labile thing. Even in his sleep, the Fountain kept his memories awake. A lifetime’s worth of information stirred from the moment he stepped foot in that house, placed there by a delicate calculus not even known to Berdly. It operated largely without his input. As the Archives gave out from underneath, twenty-five thousand volumes scattered into the vacuum below.

It was a minor setback. The manor adjusted its management.

Berdly set one foot in front of the other, in endless repetition. The air had thickened with dust, coating the floors with a sludge of plaster. He could taste metal all around the hall, decorating it with a scent. It caught his tongue like a static, sending jolts of energy through his spine. Then, as a great rumbling spread through the base of the world, he felt something twist at the bottom of his foot.

Berdly screamed. His arms draped over himself as he collided with the floor, holding his disfigured limb together near the base. Heaps of his own clothing trapped him under the weight of the atmosphere, too heavy for his tired arms to pry off, and he stayed in that position, wishing there was something to stop the pain. He relaxed his arms and sucked in as much of the Dark World air that he could. Then, a familiar sensation found him once more. A great source had kicked in to fill the gaps of his muscles and now occupied the space in his foot where something else used to be. He sighed, stretching his legs out with a borrowed strength. From his chest down to his heel, a sliver of light began its work, pulling tendons better than before.

The trek continued.

He leaned his head back into the couch, burying his face into the soft fleece laundry that he had tossed in a hurry. The dryer warmth dug deep into the pile, where Berdly rested his head. For a few glorious moments, it was just him in a soft pile of clothes, thinking about absolutely nothing.

A badge on an old sweater rested against his forehead. The kettle stirred.            was out with some other friends. Berdly could stay here doing nothing for the entire time and not a single person would intervene.

Then, he heard the receiver beep. It was enough to lift him out of the lukewarm pile of laundry, curious to know who would be trying to call him at this hour.

For thirty minutes, he had been walking. Berdly had initially kept a close count of the time, but lost count somewhere after the second minute. Something deep from his mind that the act of counting had a calming effect. Calm from what, he didn’t recall, but the repetition of the numbers appeared to be soothing him as promised. He felt his eyelids droop, and suddenly became aware of his own mass. The sensation in his right leg, now feather-light, soon spread to his left arm, throwing off his balance as he walked. To compensate, the other half of his body grew lighter somehow, allowing him to walk with an identical gait. Blackened feathers trailed the path behind him.

Abruptly, a scream echoed from the distance. Berdly wasn’t sure whether to turn or keep going. He could have sworn he had been walking away from something, not towards it. However, his recollection of recent events was spotty, and full of holes. His pace quickened, drawn towards the end of the infinite hall in front of him by a pair of legs that no longer ached with every step. Then, as the next series of tremors passed through the house, that last of that extra weight left his body and joined the debris in that hall. Flight was not necessary in such a simple space. So, the magic took it upon itself to rid him of the last of his feathers. His skin now stuck to the fabric, protecting him better than before.

Another thousand volumes fell.

Heis eyes grew blurry. There hadn’t been enough time to collect his glasses after he fell.

A quarter million.

The metallic taste was gone. The dust no longer bothered him either. Inf act, he could not rememebr the last time he smelled or tasted something.

Three feathered peaks adorned the top of his head. Three floors succumbed to the rapid deterioration of their world. Now, only a simple crown remained.

Berdly kept on walking, one foot in front of the other, in an endless repetition. To assist him, a great redistributing of magic occurred. It filled the cracks and worked around the gaps, gathering itself in chunks and discarding whatever couldn’t fit in with the rest. Distant commotion now resembled a familiar cheer, according to the bank of information the manor still possessed. The crowd was something significant to Berdly, so he continued his trek under a newer, more relevant justification.

“Your next word is Paracosm.”

Those words stitched themselves together by a regulatory grammar now comprised of only half its initial rules.

Berdly tripped. Without delay, something lifted him back up. His spine dragged across the floor to keep pressing forward, phantom limbs now swinging uselessly by his side.

The hour was far too late.

Berdly watched as             reached for the fries and                                           . There weren’t many occasions like this to begin with. The disgusting weather pulled everyone back indoors, one way or another. From somewhere in the diner, he could hear the oven beep, the counter ding, and someone ringing the bell against the door.

His phone buzzed. Someone was trying to call him.

“Berdly?”

He didn’t recognize that sound. But he heard the ringing from a familiar source. A fifth of the manor remained. Telephone… that’s what he was thinking of. No, that couldn’t be right. He wasn’t in the regular world, was he?

Miles behind him, in a kitchen, indeed a phone was ringing. Berdly tried to answer but produced no more than a slow gurgling sound. The ringing sound continued, confusing him for the ringing in his ears. As his breathing slowed, he could’ve sworn he had heard someone shouting at him. Even his head pounded at him, like someone had grabbed his face and shaken it to rouse him from a deep sleep.

Meanwhile, the most pensive remnants of the house stirred. Wood had given over to asphalt, and revisions had been made to accommodate the new composition of the manor. The last of available information had been carefully grouped near the top of the Archives, where a new calculation was being made. There remained just enough data in the system to determine the next suitable course of action.

Two figures appeared in the distance.

“She’s here,” cried the voices in the pavement. They recognized the street that he was in. “… and she’s with Kris.”

By a delicate calculus unknown to anyone in existence, it was determined that Berdly no longer needed to know where he was. As his body tipped towards the ground, an otherworldly force seized him. First, his pupils constricted. His breathing shallowed, then stopped. White bled into the darks as the capillaries broke, allowing the magic to come flooding in.

*The Fountain shines bright and beautiful in the distance.

*A counterfeit halo sits above its head, taking the shape of a crown

Susie’s breath cast a ghost in its wake. The Fountain appeared before her with a mundane finality, barely visible behind the wall of eyesore that it cast out into the hall. Grease pooled across the ground, slick with colour, and coated the manor with a false veneer of shine. Nearby, Susie could hear Kris’s breathing becoming laboured. As quick as her own breaths came, they disappeared, leaving her suffocating in the stale, sterile air. The Fountain was so close, Susie could see the way it poured from the gaps of his clothing and onto the floor, two streams of bright glowing ichor falling from his face.

The light from the end of the hall transfixed her, pulling the air from her mouth in a sharp, asphyxiating gasp. A crawling creature, some dense and timid thing, rolled out from her tongue and scattered across her vision. It hurt, at first. It came to her like a shock.

Kris, she wanted to say. She repeated the word in her head, though the sounds refused to come out. Kris! Kris!

With each repetition, she felt her throat tighten, afraid that if she couldn’t get the words out in time, Kris would be gone and she'd be all alone. The delicate grain of the shadow cast by Kris’s back gave off the illusion that the two were miles apart, despite Susie’s outstretched hand still feeling the heat from Kris’s soul. Astonished, she realized what she was seeing. Around the Fountain, physical space was being made, stitching the world’s history back together from the scraps of what was left.

He felt as though he had been knocked flat.

There was a distortion trick being played on her. Susie could feel the magic working its way into her mind.

“You’ve become a little thin, haven’t you?”

Until he could learn to speak, there would be no argument to be heard from him. As people say, as you grow older, it’s the stochastic tide of nature that pulls you in and out of situations, whether you chose them or not. That tide of uncertainty, that medley of rhythmic kept and unkept promises, wrapped up in a cadence of sorry and I-told-you-so moved him in such erratic ways, he could scarcely stand after being knocked down.

“Wallow in that feeling with me,” he instructed. “The knowledge that others could not withstand the same treatment fills you with a sense of accomplishment.”

Susie kept her silence, her too-cracked lips shivering with the same fervor as the trembling tower she knelt on. When she had withdrawn her hand, her fingertips just barely grazed the back of Kris’s shirt and tingled with a strange sensation. It was not the sting of cold that she felt. Rather, it was the spread of warmth. It came from everywhere in her body, colliding with the atmosphere wherever her skin touched her clothes. She closed her eyes and felt the heat of her eyelids mingle with the feverish feeling that had enveloped her.

This whole thing was insanity. Susie never wanted to go on this dumb adventure in the first place. Why did she have to be the one to end it?

* A spiteful feeling of superiority rises within you.

In front of her, a radiant spectacle revealed itself to her. She could see the street leading up to hometown’s public school, which lit up like a beacon. Susie’s axe was in her hand, growing lighter with every passing second. She felt stronger than before.

It was dark out in the streets. A peaceful, ambient kind of dark that looked beautiful where the streetlights captured the snowflakes in their fall, and mysterious where streets gave way to unexplored avenues.

Reaching a hand towards the space in front of him, he felt the soft pinpricks of snow resting against his feathers, balancing some on the tip of his hand before letting them gently float away. The air was so crisp, he felt like he could bask in this feeling forever.

If time allowed it, he just might.

From behind the alley, a dark figure emerged, beckoning him across the distance. At times, the figure appeared to split into two: one tall, one short. Reluctantly, he stepped forward, like children did when they were learning to walk. Then, the figure would retreat further into the alley. Berdly followed suit. He wasn’t sure what drove him to do the things that he did. He was only beginning to understand the compulsion of imaginary obligation. Following orders was precisely what made him who he was. The mantras of the old were the catchphrases of the young – that was their tug-of-war, a clumsy one, but there an ongoing round of that game that wouldn’t reset itself until someone eventually lost or won. He recalled an important figure saying to him once that unless you were early, you were late, and he has been punctual ever since. That’s who Berdly was. A punctual, organized, diligent person, who did as the figure told to every beat, and for that, he would be rewarded.

“What’s the matter?” the dark figure said. The sentiment wasn’t the caring sort. It was more like a mouthful of disease, but he allowed the imagination to play with him the same way he played around with it when he was bored. “What’s the matter? Tell me.”

Susie’s body gently swung left and right. It resembled a type of drunkenness that she had seen once or twice in her life. Winters ago, just after a snowfall, she watched the television stir from her living room, as silence filled the room with a sharp, fermented odour. It was a compulsion towards apathy, she always assumed, some subtle desire to disappear for a few moments. She had never heard of something so assassin-like: a material object on Earth, a substance or perhaps an idea, that could poison a person’s will and decay them in ways that left no physical mark on their skin. She has seen the living dead before. Their rot did not stink, but their hollow skins and furs would hang loosely on the body, eyes dim and sad. Susie would be a liar if she didn’t possess the impulse too, to completely surrender oneself to sleep and put the world away, if not just for a little while.

In the distance, she could hear it clearly now: it was the sound of an assembly. It must have been a loud one, typical for the time of year when the board hosted events with the other districts’ schools. That commotion carried a lethal dose, dense with envy. As Susie quickened her pace towards the entrance, all her mannerisms dripped with that very poison. Her axe sheared the air, whistling in the wind as she walked.

“Tell me,” the figure repeated, trying to pull an answer from him. It rephrased the question. “What is it that you want?”

Berdly knew a lot of words. Yet, when it came time to answering, he couldn’t recall a single one. “I want,” he began. He had to think of something good. “I want…”

A bloom of events found their way back into the forefront of his mind. He was standing in front of a crowd in one. In another, he was in a house, arguing with someone, though he could not recall who he had been arguing with. Those gaps bothered him greatly. There was a plethora of pictures in his mind, but they were held up by scaffolding that desperately needed material to fill it. It was like building a house, he thought. Someone, not something, needed to be there.

 Susie stopped. As the imitation of their school shimmered in front of her, she imagined herself at a fork in the road, not sure whether to inch away and or go up the stairs.

“I don’t know what I want.”

The figure turned around to face him, its face distorted and hardly visible from Berdly’s distance. “Well then, where do you wish you could be right now?”

Berdly thought long and hard. He remembered a time when a large, looming figure came to him, promising to keep him safe. He recalled more, now that he was putting pieces together. He was falling out of the sky, and someone caught him – placing him somewhere high up in a tower.

“Is that so…”

“No.” Berdly shivered. From ahead, he could hear screaming grow louder. A mess of memories stuck to him like unwanted flies. “I can’t be there.”

There was a magic in that hallway. She could feel it all around her now, pulling away her inhibitions and displacing them with a deep yearning. She imagined Noelle, waiting for her at the school gates. Somewhere behind her, a creature was pulling her back and that made Susie angry.

“Why not?”

 Susie felt her throat constrict. She felt the last of her muscles’ tension escape her, giving away to that otherworldly intoxication. Out of her own volition, she pulled her axe back up and tightened her grip around the handle. Noelle was calling out her name. Someone else was too.

*You are nearing the end of your journey.  

*Everything you worked so hard for...

“It could come crashing down at any moment.”  

In Susie’s position, she could feel the roughness of asphalt beneath her hands, no longer smooth like the bookshelves they had been climbing. Someone had kicked her, hard, and was now grabbing at the back of her shirt. In a moment of embarrassment, Susie felt like a shameless, uninvited guest.

It could come crashing down at any moment.

“Stop it…” Susie groaned. The sickening smell of iron filled the air.

Everything that you worked so hard for.

That image of Noelle beckoning her from the school gates was starting to disappear. In Susie’s last visions of her, Noelle’s smile faltered, and she rushed back into the school.

“Kris?” Her mouth felt sandy and dry. The ringing in her ears numbed her from the sound of her own voice.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

She snapped her head back and stumbled out of Kris’s grip. Suddenly, she was looking up at the sharp end of Kris’s sword. “What do you mean, I – “

Susie heard an object behind her fall. The Fountain was further away than when she last saw it, and she felt gravity pulled her back in the direction they came.

“Don’t listen to him. Listen to me.”

Kris was heaving, their heavy breaths travelling through the air behind Susie, instead of falling back down towards the ground. Was Kris fighting someone? Then, Susie saw the gash across Kris’s chest, crimson soaking deep into the black fabric of their shirt, matching the smear across Susie’s axe, tossed aside.

“We’re not heading back.” Kris coughed, doubling over from pain. “You…”

One of Berdly’s greatest irrational fears was becoming a horrible adult. It wasn’t to say that Berdly possessed a great deal of empathy or anything like that. Rather, in the event of a time phenomenon where he went back in time to visit himself in present day, he dreaded the thought that somehow, life would be worse.

“You told me to stop being so weak.”

His                    even told him once, that unless the                     off if he was around instead of the current set of adults. It was one thing to                               , but Berdly liked to believe that

  “I liked you because you were tough.”

Carefully, he knelt to the ground and                              his head against the soft blanket of snow.

  “So, what makes you think that after all this time…”

  He couldn’t explain why he was feeling the way he was. He didn’t have the words, but he did have the recollection of times he’s felt the same way.                                                 . As he laid his head in the snow, he imagined the faces of people. His teacher, the                   attendant, and                   came to him first, followed by                                                    upperclassmen that he                         the school                 he                      .

“You get to run away?” Kris sent a boot crashing into Susie’s chest in same the spot where she had swung at Kris. “You made me like this!”

“Stop! That thing is making you do it. You don’t have to listen to it!”

Kris’s fists tore into the fabric around their front, laced with threads of red. As the last few strands came loose around the site of the wound, Susie could see the glow of crimson wounding itself around Kris’s fingertips.

“How about now?” Kris said. Their voice had become less forceful, but raspier and full of hatred. “Of course you don’t believe me.”

“What does that thing do, exactly?”

Kris shuddered. Out of anger or pain, Susie wasn’t sure. From behind their bangs, Susie could see sweat coming down their forehead, mixed in with tears.

“It’s complicated.” For just a moment, a flicker of doubt passed through Kris.

“But does it make you stronger?”

“It keeps me together. What more explanation do you want?”

Susie’s head was spinning. She couldn’t focus on more than one thing at a time. Being in the presence of both Kris and the Fountain felt like being spun around on the spot in between two large magnets. Ralsei was right about The Roaring. It felt like Susie was being torn apart just by being here.

“Give it to Berdly.” Susie closed her eyes and gestured weakly to the distance in front of them. If it makes you stronger, then it’ll make him stronger too. When that Fountain collapses on him, maybe he’ll survive it and – “

“No!”

“I wasn’t asking!” Susie yelled angrily, putting the full force of her lungs into action. She clenched her jaw and got up off the ground with a wince, noticing that even with her best efforts, she stood with difficulty. “If you want me to help you fight him, I’m gonna need that. Why do you need me anyway if you’re so strong now?” Susie could feel tears starting. “I told you, I’m not doing any of this nonsense. You hurt Noelle, you hurt Berdly. Hell, what’s going to happen to me if I say no? Berdly is going to die here if you don’t do something about it once that Fountain collapses.”

“Why do you care so much about Berdly?”

“Does it matter? I could hate him for all we care. You’re talking about sending someone to their death! Even I would think twice about shoving someone into their locker now!”

Behind them, the light was growing stronger.

He could see himself clearly now, past the filters of bias, stripped down to the core of his experiences. The air grew metallic in taste as the Fountain expanded. That ring of distortion encased him in an endless halo, ionizing the air where he stood.

“So, where do you want to be?”

Curiously, he walked towards the figure.

“Give me a break,” Kris raised their voice. “You aren’t a good person. Stop pretending to be. Like everybody else, you saw a chance to be like them – Noelle and Berdly and all those kids who have it good, just because Noelle was desperate enough to pretend to be your friend for a little while. Face it, Susie, you’re like me because we’ve had it worse than everyone else!”

Susie had never heard Kris speak for so long. “Is that you see things?”

“...”

“No, you’re right.” Susie thought about that illusion of Noelle by the school gates, leaving in disgust. “I’m not like them. I’ll never have a chance to go to some fancy college. I’m not some pretty little blonde girl, or a rich guy’s kid.”

“No, I didn’t mean – “

In a flash of movement, Susie lunged, sending Kris to the ground with a meaty thump.

“Shut up, Kris! Just shut up!” She made a grab at the soul, just as Kris dug a hand below her ribs and scrambled away, away from the direction of the Fountain. “Don’t you dare talk about Noelle like you think you’re better. When we close the Fountain and go back to our world, what do you think will happen, huh?”

Kris ran. Susie chased after them.

“You never think! You never had to worry about the things I did. When something bad happens, people always think it’s my fault! When they find someone bruised up after school, they send me – I was a kid! They sent me to the police like I’m some sort of criminal – Come back here Kris!”

Without the extra help, Kris felt all the day’s cuts and scrapes digging into their flesh all at once. Their lungs burned and Kris quickly succumbed to the gash across their chest. Quickly, they put the soul back in and –

“Don’t run.” Susie grabbed the back of Kris’s neck and turned them around to face her. “When they find Berdly’s body dead next to us, after everything that happened, they’re not going to think we did it.”

“S-Susie, I can’t breathe.”

“They’re going to think we drove him to do it himself. Forget being at the top of the class. None of that will matter then.”

Susie let that truth hang in the air with Kris.

“I-I – “

“I’m going to take this,” she looked down at Kris’s chest, “and give it to Berdly, right as I close that Fountain. If you’re so sure that you need me to do your dirty work for you, then fine. I’ll do it. Noelle can’t but I sure as hell can. And once I’m done,” she emphasized with her teeth. “We are never talking again.”

Kris’s eyes swam as Susie’s hand reached for the soul. Suddenly overcome by shame, Kris looked away from Susie, eyes heavy with something different from fury or hatred. It was the overpowering dread of what came next. There would be no more encounters after this, no more strange excitement running through their veins, nor silver platter of luck served under the taste of careful logic. Kris could feel the fibres stitching themselves back together to close the wound, but something else was there too. It was the fibres snapping where Susie’s hand touched the soul. Like a string pulled taut, it disconnected from Kris.

“No, don’t go!” Kris screamed suddenly. They made an unpremeditated, idiotic slip. Without what, Kris could survive without, they didn’t know. The worst of it was yet to come when Kris would have to figure out which felt more devastating.

As he approached the figure in the distance, all but a single thought remained.

 “Y-you can’t do this to me Susie,” Kris said. Their voice of resistance was weak but desperate, feigning tranquility. “I never wanted this. I didn’t know what to do. I just did whatever would – hic -  get me out of it.”

Susie paused. It was quite impossible for her to look past her own apathy towards the behaviour of human beings. Perhaps it had always been about climbing to the top of the class. Maybe Kris did have some legitimate vendetta against everyone. There was always going to be some believable speculation. “I don’t know why you do anything,” she said darkly. “Not you, or Berdly, or anyone else, really. I don’t even know why I do the things I do, sometimes.”

“Please believe me.” Privately, Kris begged. Was desperation really a sin? Didn’t all people do terrible things, or become wretchedly timid when hard times have pushed them beneath the surface for long enough?

“I don’t think I ever will. You were right about me.”

With a startling scream, Kris felt their world being ripped out from underneath. The soul felt heavier than anything Susie ever held in her life. Standing behind them, just a few footsteps away, the crawling creature had finally made it to the end of its trek.

“You really did come back for me, in the end.”

Kris fell to the floor with a crunch. Susie could’ve sworn they had been much farther away. She heard the Fountain’s crackling indistinctly from the distance, like some kind of auditory hallucination. She supposed it wouldn’t have been an exaggeration to say that the laws of distance didn’t work like they did back in the regular world.

She suppressed the desire to run. Turning around slowly while concealing the soul in her fist, Susie came face-to-face with what was left of Berdly.

“I feel so on edge, I can’t stand it.”

Susie gulped. There existed medicine that made your ears ring. There were types of damage that made you deaf. The sound coming out of Berdly’s… direction, however, proved to be something else entirely. From a vague set of facial features was a gentle smile, the likes of which Susie had never seen. Had she not already known what the Fountain really was, there was not even the slightest chance that she could have recognized him.

“D-Does it hurt?”

Berdly sat two seats in front of her in class. She’s seen him a million times, but they had little to do with one another outside of school. Hell, they had little to do with one another in school, too. Standing so close to Berdly was a really rare event. She stood still, careful not to let Berdly see what was in her hand.

“Noelle. You came back.”

The words were almost silent, if not for the illusion of a sound coming from the inside of Susie’s head. He was no longer here. This was not a person, not matter what kind of claim it made that it was the same thing.

“Listen to me.” Susie was careful not to raise her voice. “Come here.” She wondered what Noelle would say. “I promise I won’t bite.”

The Fountain did not budge.

"Are you studying?”

He invariable spoke in the same tone. He didn’t move his beak as he talked, nor moved his body, which was, for a lack of a better description, not entirely there. Suddenly, he convulsed with laughter, shaking the house violently as he twisted his face.

"I don’t think I’m coming with you.”

Susie panicked. “Uh, have you read any interesting books? Come on,” she gulped. That thing standing in front of her did not look like him at all. All but a few bar feathers hung from his arms, which were bound in fabric and twisted horribly behind his back like a puppet doll. He looked like a mummified specimen from hell.

“I have a bad feeling about that library.”

“H-How come?”

Berdly’s eyes widened, though Susie doubt that he could see anything.

“Come on,” she took a step closer. “Don’t move, I’m not going to do anything,” she lied.

"Stay still?” Berdly’s eyes darted back and forth suddenly. In the distance, the house suddenly stopped shaking. The Fountain grew restless.

He continued to wander down the street when a hollow feeling enveloped his chest. Out of the corner of his eyes, he felt a stab of pain, and the telltale clench of his throat that came before he cried. Carefully, he knelt to the ground and let himself rest his head against the soft blanket of snow.

Berdly felt his arms lax, and he could think of nothing but running away from home. Against the subtle suggestion of the Fountain, he was no more cognizant than child. Yet, he remembered how children would say that your face would disappear if you broke a promise while smiling. Bits and pieces of you, gone. Berdly wanted to be truthful.

Berdly muttered something under his breath His expression grew tense, but struggling did not free him from the Fountain’s hold. The Fountain crackled and burned with greater intensity, bending the space around them.

“Berdly, wait!” Susie took another step towards him, but as she bridged the gap, the distance only stretched further and further away.    

“Berdly, wait!” Noelle’s voice called out to him. “You haven’t told me. Where do you want to go?”

In the distance, he could hear the phone still ringing. Around him, spots of snow fell on his lap like paper shredded to infinitesimally small pieces.

“I promised you I’d get help. I never did.” he muttered, holding pieces of snow, now paper bits in his hands. He couldn’t stop the ringing in his ears.

“Well, you need to decide quickly. Time is running out.” Her voice dripped with suggestion. He couldn’t tell if it was really her, or if the Fountain was playing tricks on him. “If you could be anywhere, where would you go?”

Berdly did not know where he was.

“Back,” he said vaguely. There was an idea of something there, though not clear enough o be articulated. He wanted to laugh. He couldn’t remember a thing, but here he was, feeling regret.

 Susie chased after him, but the hallway twisted out of Susie’s reach with every step she took. Stumbling, she caught her leg on her own foot and came crashing down.

“Come back!” she yelled. The tower lurched. “Kris?” she called out hesitantly. “What’s going on!?”

As the Fountain stretched beyond Susie’s view, she felt the gravity shifting away from the ground and back towards the way they came. Soon, the mirage in the hallway had disappeared, leaving them back in the tower. Susie rushed to the ground and scrambled for something to hold onto. However, Kris said nothing as their body grew lighter, their hands were tightly wound around their chest. In an instant, just as though Kris was a piece of paper dragging across the asphalt, they had been stripped away from the world.

Susie rushed over and grabbed Kris’s wrist, her other hand clasped around the soul and foot lodged awkwardly against a crack in the floor.

“Help me up!” she yelled. “We have to get this to him!”

Tired eyes, with lids halfway shut, fell asleep. And then, later, as Kris would recall, Susie had tossed the soul into the abyss and grabbed onto their shoulders with both hands before yelling something right into their face. The only word that Kris caught had sounded something like their name.

“I’ll do anything. Please, just get me out of here.”

Ralsei’s shortsighted plan couldn’t have been more deceitful. Deep down, he knew the journey wouldn’t always end with him by Kris and Susie’s side. Perhaps his role within their team was always to bring them to the final room, and the rest would be up to them. The last of the stairs had gone out behind him, and for a moment, he simply stopped and waited for the rest to cave in. Curiously, he wondered if Kris and Susie had made it to the top of the tower by now. Sadly, he wondered if that meant he wasn’t needed.

“There’s something about me.”

Ralsei didn’t know what was up with this place. How could Swatch stand it up here with all the constant pounding at your head? Thoughts ran rampant as the tower began to collapse, like a crowd of scared children all rushing to the exits at once. Swatch’s unrelenting persistence to climb had a devastating effect on Ralsei’s own morale as well. Jealousy brewed inside him as he heard the savage splintering of wood chase him up the stairwell. Swatch’s determination was almost human-like, it made Ralsei’s inability to push two legs up the next set of stairs appear tame and disingenuous. He simply refused to believe that Swatch’s resolve was somehow stronger when it came to his own.

“I’m a really bad person sometimes.”

Ralsei tried to block it out. Tricks were Swatch’s strong suit and the manor seemed to play to his advantage. His own breathlessness was audible all along that tower, projecting his exhaustion for anyone to hear. Ralsei scolded himself: Swatch was the better guide, the more persistent figure in these Lightner’s lives, and Ralsei, a mere prince, had been the one deliberately left behind.

“I put everything into it. It’s never enough. I can love with all the fibre of my being but there’s this a really bad part of me that ruins everything.”

“Come back and fix me,” Swatch demanded from the depths of the tower. He was not too far behind now. “If I go down, you go down with me! I hope you are well aware of that!”

“Everyone leaves me in the end.”

“My wings... torn… That blasted girl!”

His voice ripped through the stagnant air. Even in the dim light, Ralsei could see the smear of dark ink which trailed up from where Swatch had been climbing. Ralsei had to give him credit for that. With a talon missing and two tattered wings, somehow Swatch still made it up the tower without succumbing to its destruction.  

“You don’t know what it’s like, to fall behind the rest.” cried the frantic voices from the shelves. Their words were scrambled and crinkled, like the rustling of pages soon to be lost in the wind. Frustrated, Ralsei ripped a book from the shelves and tossed it below. From the lack of a yelp, Ralsei assumed it barely went far enough to hit Swatch.

“He’s coming,” the book whined on its way down, like a whistle. “He’s home and he’s angry.”

Ralsei didn’t need reminding. He picked up his aching body and trudged up the next steps. The mindless anger pounded at him from every corner, and of course, Swatch with his incessant hounding. The whole place was a madhouse. He couldn’t stand the echo chamber that was Berdly’s memory.

“You don’t know what it’s like!” Swatch screamed at him now. “To wait day and night for a master who seldom comes home! I tend to the manor, and for what!? He is never satisfied. A pale imitation of the real thing, he says! Well, I’ll make it real for him!”

Ralsei stopped in his tracks, lungs burning with exhaustion to hear what Swatch was saying. He loved them, Kris and Susie both, but something Swatch said had been perturbed him, all the way back when he first arrived. He waited for Swatch to reach over the final ledge and drop tiredly onto the stairwell floor.

“Get up. You can’t take a break.”

Swatch said something about memories. The Archives were forbidden, for the entirety of the Lightner’s account of the world had been catalogued there. He wished to keep that part of his life private from him.

“Your whole life depends on how well you do as a teenager.”

Ralsei wondered what Swatch could have possibly wanted up here. So much so, even, that he risked losing the boy’s trust just to obtain it.

“This world rejects me. I had to earn my place here. I could feel the rot spreading across my body the first moment I arrived. I kept it at bay all this time, studying the ways of this world and stitching myself a role to fit within its narrow narrative. How dare you deprive me of a second home. You and your so-called-heroes… I’ll see to it that you rot.”

Ralsei could have had the world’s knowledge, all at his fingertips. Swatch had promised Ralsei his own staff if Ralsei just cooperated in letting the place run. Ralsei didn’t understand why Swatch had broken his glasses until word spread around the manor that Swatch was nowhere to be seen after Berdly had left to return to the Lightner’s World. Wherever he went, he didn’t want people to follow.

“I had a castle before you did,” Ralsei said breathlessly. “I waited for thousands of years before Kris and Susie came. Don’t tell me I don’t know what it’s like to have to be patient. You think that because you have upheld this place for a few weeks, it deserves to come at the expense of my home?” He paused to catch his breath. “We have to stop fighting. In a few moments, Kris and Susie will talk some sense into him. We can put all this behind us and you can go live in Castle Town. Why are you being so stubborn?”

Ralsei was defenseless. He just hoped Swatch was too tired to go on as well. Reluctantly, the entire ordeal had worn him down enough that Ralsei was losing his patience.

“Alternatively, if you would just help me, I could help you as well. Lonely prince, you’re struggling. I can get us out.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“It should be obvious, no?” Swatch grimaced, his dark wings spread out for Ralsei to see. It was full of horrible tears, no doubt from the barrage of books that Susie had thrown at him. “You and I are down here, climbing for the same mundane reason. It’s because we want to survive.”

Ralsei winced, carrying his aching body up the next flight of stairs. “Why are we even fighting then? Kris and Susie are up there fixing the problem. We can all go back to Castle Town when it’s done. I’m sorry we left you behind, but we will bring you with us this time. Is that not what you want?”

“You misunderstand your own proposition.”

“I’m not lying to you! Queen, she would be happy to – “

“You haven’t seen the things I have. The boy needs me. He needs this manor more than anything. If you still haven’t realized that after weeks of being here, then – ”

“No,” Ralsei let out a shakey breath. “I don’t believe for a second that the reason you want Berdly to stay here with you because you think it is good for him. You want something more than just a place to live. You want to reign over it too.”

“Don’t insult me. You ought to listen.”

“We can all hear the things that Berdly thinks. You and him, you think that the only secure place to be is at the top, but what do you think will happen when it all comes crashing down like it already – “

“You have no concept of what you are talking about! Listen to me!” A few feet away now, Swatch’s looming features began to sharpen. “Why do you think this world came to be in the first place?” His sneer was unmistakeable, even if his voice still retained that trace of corporate friendliness. “Darkness runs rampant in the Lightner’s world. These pocket fantasies serve as indulgences for the Lightners. Why do you think our Fountains feed into the world of the Light in the first place? Who pokes the holes, do you think?”

“What?” Ralsei thought that was utter madness.

“What do you suppose will happen when those two Lightners of yours no longer need you or that second home that you make for them? I paved my way from one world to the next. I’ve seen one world fall and another about to fall soon. If you would just – ”

“I’m not helping you!”

“I am asking you to see the truth that I have been trying to show you for the past week, but you are too idiotic to see it. You have not stayed in your castle for hundreds of years, you fool. You know for a fact that this manor has only existed for what, a few weeks at best? Yet the servants all believe they have stayed here for years. You, who think that Castle Town is some monument of the ages that will last forever don’t think that it is strange how those Lightners have only known you for a few weeks as well?”

Ralsei couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re saying I’m – “

“Not seeing the bigger picture? There is no permanent home in Castle Town. One day, those children will grow old, and they will leave one final time. Those Lightners of yours, they have each other, and like every world that you and I have seen collapse before, Castle Town will realize its obsoletion and disappear.”

Ralsei yelped with pain. Deep within his knees, he could feel something weakening, and it was spreading past his leg towards the ground. “What’s happening?”

Swatch bent over the railing, past Ralsei’s head and peered into the abyss. His arms shook as they struggled to perch himself up without hurting, but the twitching of his head was entirely something else. Then, Ralsei heard it: the sounds of screaming from the Lightner’s world. As he peeked through the gaps of the railings, he could see the way the darkness gave way to something else. A large room full of people, scrambling as the contents of the manor poured down on them, and whatever was happening down there, the people were causing a panic.

“You’re out of time,” Swatch said apathetically. “Your friends have not returned for you. I don’t see signs that they have somehow fixed anything either.”

“They just need more time.”

“I can be there in a few seconds if you would just heal my wings and let me take us both up there.”

The bottom of Ralsei’s leg had begun to numb. The damage had already been done. Ralsei could feel the paralyzing force spread through his body.  “I don’t believe for a second you will go up there and convince Berdly to give up the Fountain. You’re going to try and get rid of the other Fountain, but you have no idea where the other Fountain even is.”

That’s when Swatch smiled. “Oh, but I do.”

The deceptive knowingness of his voice could convince even the least desperate of people to follow his wishes. Ralsei was in no position to bargain. “What do you mean?”

“There’s a spot at the top of that tower where I hid him. I caught him before he fell, and saw the other Fountain right by your little Castle. If my recollection of the day is any good, I would appear that my Young Master had somehow discovered the other Fountain in his world, and travelled through it unwittingly, bringing our manor right on top of yours.”

“How do you expect me to believe this?”

“I’ve seen it.”

“Where? That would have had to happen in the Lightner’s world. How do you even know so much about the –“ Ralsei realized something with a sinking feeling. “Berdly’s memoires. You’ve seen the Lightner’s world.”

“So much of it. Who do you think heard him in trouble, and hid him safely at the top of the tower? I know this place better than anyone. None of you will reach the top in time, but I can fly.”

Ralsei sank down to the floor. Looking up at the distance that remained, he wondered how much time he would have to spend before he could climb up there on foot. Swatch was right. One of the Fountains had to go. If Kris and Susie could not reach Berdly in time, then what?

“For every feature in our world, there exists an equivalent.” Swatch peered up at the vast expanse of bookshelves which led to the very room where he locked Berdly in. From above, a few delicate flakes had begun to fall. It did not resemble snow, despite its appearance. Swatch could smell the manilla sheets as they trickled down. “Everything held dear exists somewhere on the other side too. These worlds come to be because the Lightners desire it. Their fears, their dreams, their memories and familiar places, are all here in this small pocket of space.”

“…”

“Surprised, aren’t you?”

“Kris and Susie. They wouldn’t leave me behind, would they?”

“Haven’t they already?”

Ralsei rested his head against the ground, too tired to raise his neck. He felt something calcifying his body where bits of paper touched. The soft ticking of something inside Swatch’s butler coat taunted Ralsei, whose legs had turned to hard, unresponsive tissue.

He also saw the flakes fall through the gaping tears of Swatch’s wings: small, fragmented shards. Berdly’s memories had been kept there, he thought. It wasn’t fair for the young boy to be caught up in all of this.

“What did you see?” The words came out softly. “In Berdly’s memories?”

The question had taken Swatch aback. “Seeing is perhaps the wrong word. I read them.”

“Tell me a story, then.”

He hesitated.

The day I woke up here, I thought I was dreaming.

There were bits of Cyber World in this house. You could see it in the way the decorations hung from the walls, the way the wallpaper divided up sections of the manor, it was all so familiar. Then, I heard someone speaking. It was an old woman, goat-like and matronly. She instructed me to assist her with preparing the manor for the Young Master’s arrival, and there, she showed me the great expanse of books.

‘Someone ought to wake it all up,’ she told me. I didn’t understand what she was saying. ‘Look,’ and I did. There was a spark of something at the top of this tower.

I asked why she could not get it herself and she said that only a bird could reach the top before the next layer grew. It was a type of puzzle, the basic sorting kind, where only some could pass, and others could not. That was the first rule of this world that I learned: it was all catered to him.

She dropped an itinerary in my hand and left, saying something about bookkeeping and keeping an itemized guest list. Then, to my amazement, a young girl walked out from the first set of shelves. She had bright golden hair, which drift out from the cracks of those books like a cloud of dust before settling on the floor. I was pensive then, inspecting the books for hours before removing one from the shelf. I still remember, feeling tis pages grow hot and dropping it down with a thud. I was worried that I had creased the pages. However, the figure of the girl began to materialize in front of me, her golden hair ripped from the pages with a delicate swing behind her back. This was magic like I have never seen.

Admittedly, for the first few days, I did not do as the woman instructed. I scavenged the Archives, looking for one particular set of memories, stored high above the others at the apex of that tower. I had encountered numerous people in my search, some barely cognizant of who the boy was, with faces distorted and features missing. Others seemed to know the boy very well, speaking of some Doctor who had been looking for him. I didn’t inquire as to who it was. Finally, I reached a point near the top. He had gone to a library that day, in the Lightner’s world, and as I read the entry, my spirits sank.

His recollections of a library were so numerous, it filled an entire tower. Bits of Cyber World were contained within those pages. A poster on a wall with a Ferris wheel like the one I had grown up with, a city of light no different than a children’s bedtime story, tucked away at the back of a closet with a cardboard box full of cassette tapes. This couldn’t be real, I thought. I had known that world my whole life, how could it be reduced to the mere recollection of several children?

The memories of his time in my world were like gold to me.

This manor had the power to bring back the past. Surely, I could carve out a small space for myself, bring my Queen to the manor, and my Swatchings, oh how I missed them.

Then, the Fountain ignited once more. The Young Master was back. From my itemized list, I noticed that several notable people had been missing. This Doctor. Who was he?

And why did the Young Master forbid from returning to the Archives?

“Are you still there?” Ralsei asked. “I asked you – ”

“No.” Swatch said firmly. “There is nothing for you to know.”

“But you are gone for several hours of the day, doing who knows what.”

“It still remains none of your business.”

“You said that Castle Town would become obsolete and disappear.” Ralsei sounded offended. “What makes you think Stormcrow Manor would outlast it?”

“There’s something here, which he desperately wants but cannot get in the Lightner’s World. As long as that is true, he will never give up on this place.”

“I can’t do it. I have to call him.” The voices all around them grew more frantic as time passed. Berdly’s memories were slipping away, but not without a final word. “Just call his stupid phone! I can’t do it!”

“Did you ever find your Swatchlings up there, in the end?”

“That’s none of your business either.”

The last of the tower’s floor had been swept for clues. Each day, I thought, it took a little longer to navigate than the last. At the top of the manor, encased in its own little maze of corridors was a private collection of books. With a docile curiosity, I took one with me as I walked, browsing the shelves for something else I had been on the lookout for.

“Today, I ate breakfast with Noelle.”

Somewhere in me, I had a vague feeling already of which era of the boy’s life this had come from. I couldn’t help but smile.

“She hadn’t tried Number Five Dean before. I told her coffee didn’t have to taste bad if you put a lot of milk into it, and she finally agreed to try it. We got off the field trip bus while everyone went to that usual place at the highway rest stop and went next door to a coffee store.”

I recalled that it was always the little ones were always getting into some trouble. Wrangling them into one group was always a labour of its own.

“Almond milk isn’t so bad. I quite like it. Noelle said that they should sell coffee like this at the diner if it tasted so good, and I told her that they do, sort of. It wasn’t as good, but it was essentially the same thing. ‘No, I meant the almond milk,’ she told me. I asked her what about it and she said something so strange to me. She said that the diner didn’t carry almond milk. She didn’t know why. I always thought that almond milk was like any other, but I suppose not. I guess in minor ways, there’s always some penalty for being different. Even for someone like Noelle. Thinking about it now, it’s so strange. If I ran a diner, I’d have the decency to have more than one type of milk, surely.”

On some days, I kept the books that I encountered. It was a sacrilegious thing to tear pages from a book, so for some odd entries, I sat there, tracing the words onto my itinerary and placed the text back where it belonged. It wasn’t an act of endearment, I assured myself. It was all to keep the manor running.

“I saw a canary fly past my window at school. It was so pretty.”

The boy had such an imagination.

“It looked at me, I swear. Ms. Alphys was saying something, and I usually pay attention to what she says, but that thing looked at me right in the eye, and for some reason, it felt rude to just look away.”

The real test of recognition was when I came face to face with a door at the top of the tower. I had reached the end. It was a plain-looking door, unlike any I had seen around the manor. Decorated with a small wreath, it appeared to me like a holiday gimmick, carbon dating the location that it would lead me to. I placed a few books by the front of the door and knocked.

No response.

To say it frustrated me was an understatement. I had spent the better part of the last twelve hours gathering texts on specific topics, hoping that the right combination would trigger a reaction.

I knew what type of puzzle this was. The door had no lock, no handle, no gap to peer through. On one occasion, I had just made it up to the top when I saw a figure pass through, dropping something on the ground before the door opened and allowed it in. It had featherlike coating, and a tapered tail that was instantly recognizable. A bird! The first time, I rushed to inspect the contents, but the books were gone. The second time never came. I waited in that hall by the door, hoping to see a peak through the door, but that careful apparition made certain to not cross paths with me again. Wherever it had disappeared to, it must have remained there for quite some time, but I was determined to see whether it was someone from Cyber World.

It all made perfect sense. The secrecy, the hiding, the elusive door where no one could reach. I pitied the boy for locking away those memories, but alas, for him they must have struck a nerve. I found it difficult to blame him.

Such a young thing. I wanted to laugh. He had seemed so feeble when I first found him, but he had such the attitude at times. Though his coat did not change colour like a Swatchling, his temperament certainly fluctuated like one.

“Hey father, do you think the fair will have a Ferris wheel? I want to ride one.”

I gently closed the book next to me and gathered up the rest before piling them onto a shelf somewhere. Tomorrow, I thought. Tomorrow, I will gather enough materials to be granted passage through that door.

Tomorrow was no different. Nor was the next.

To humour myself, I had picked up a few delights here and there. They kept the journey light and entertaining. I was always a deep learner, myself. It benefitted me to understand more about the world, and the boy that came along with it. In my search for those coveted books with my Swatchlings buried inside, I came to learn quite a lot about the strange little bird that visited me every day while I was here.

“But it’s a paradox!”

“You just think it’s a big deal because paradox sounds like a mysterious word. Call it what it is: a logical inconsistency. There’re everywhere, but nobody cares. I mean, think about it, running really slow on your first day in gym class is somehow good because the amount of improvement you make is going to be way higher than everybody else. And this, like, counts for a third of your whole grade. That’s a paradox, right? Poor performance somehow results in a better grade than if you just did well all year round.”

“You’re such a bummer.”

“Hey guys,” Berdly looked around. “What I said just now, correct me if I was wrong, but was anything I said here even remotely incorrect?”

What was I even looking for again?

The next day, I was back, and this time, I had brought nothing with me. I put back every book I ever borrowed, stored away every loose sheet of paper I had clipped to my folder, and placed my feet solidly in front of the door.

I knocked.

Nobody replied.

“I am looking for something. Something that was taken from me, and I’ve been looking for it ever since.”

The door would not budge.

“I know this is where the rest of his memories are hidden,” I said calmly. “This is part of the manor’s magic. Allow me through. He does not need to know.”

The answer behind that door tantalized me. I needed to know what was behind it. I had an overwhelming confidence that the pages containing my most precious friends had been buried alongside those memories which the boy had locked up.

“What do I have to do?” I whispered. “What passcode do you require from me?”

There was no wreath today, no decoration around the edges, not clue as to where the door led to today. I was beginning to lose hope, until I heard just the faintest of suggestion seep through the bottom of the door. It whispered so faintly; I thought I had imagined it.

I could not tell you what it told me. Just that it placed a feeling within me that couldn’t be articulated with words. It was yearning, not like one yearned for a material object, but a deep, magnetic pull towards the other side of that door. It placed an idea within me, too: did I ever find what I was looking for? Just once, perhaps, as I made my journey past these shelves every day, I had come across the very book that I believe would solve my great yearning. Had I walked past it multiple times, or even picked it up in my hand before setting it back down, its significance unrealized?

“I never got to say goodbye.”

It had never occurred to me that I had been bringing it my thoughts and placing them at the doorstep. The strange sensation passed over me from the moment I touched the surface. Then, a more mundane realization came to me.

There may be nothing behind that door. Given the topology of the house, there was no guessing where this door led. It was surrounded by nothing, leading into unknown territory.

Oh, I thought. This is frustrating. This house will be my purgatory.

Though, perhaps it was not so bad. On that string of thought, I did recall that the Young Master had not been here in quite some time, and I was starting to wonder of his whereabouts.

Suddenly, I heard a crash behind that door. Someone was yelling, and I heard my Young Master’s voice. He was frantic, yelling about something I could not entirely understand, but there were two people with him that he was arguing with. I recognized their voices.

The noise ceased. Then, I felt a great rumbling from the sky, shaking the house from all around, as though a barrage of intruders had somehow all attacked at once. Along the ceiling, a great crack emerged, and I saw three figures falling from the sky. Rushing out, I climbed through the opening and looked outside the manor for the first time. The sky was darker than I recalled. It had been so long since I saw the Dark World sky, from my Castle in my home world. One great beam stemmed from a spot, no more than a minute’s flight away. It was a town settlement bearing great resemblance to the one that the fool prince had described. That’s right, he was the first one to speak of annoying doors that took you places, somehow ending up in outs. And somewhere near the top of that beam…

“Young Master!”

As I took flight towards him, I let all my inhibitions go, dropping everything to rush to his side.

Behind me, I heard a door click open.

Susie fell with a crunch, bearing the brunt of the fall while carrying Kris in her grasp. She had broken something for sure, but the pain was so insurmountable, it didn’t even register to her immediately.

“Lonely prince, you’re struggling. I can get us out.”

Susie bit down on her tongue to not make a noise. Just two stories down, she could see the faint outline of Ralsei cowering in front of a great big bird. Its wings had been torn to absolute shreds. Susie gulped. She could feel her vision grow spotty.

“K-Kris…”

There was no one around to help.

* You have reached a crossroads.

* The desire to keep going glows within you.

Susie reached a hand for the mass of glowing red that had fallen with them. Anything to stop the pain, she thought. Just get me out of here. Her hand trembled, clawing with her fingertips to pull her body closer, but she couldn’t do it.

Ralsei was still talking to Swatch.

“It’s selfish to keep Berdly here while you search for something that might not exist! Who’s to say Berdly even kept those memories of people he met in Cyber World?”

“He does! He remembers me!”

“Because you found that poor boy and told him you were his saviour. Now, he’s dying because you wanted to… preserve a memory? To spy on him until you find what you want?”

“Do you call it spying when a parent looks after their child without their knowing?” Swatch spat. “That boy asked for a fantasy, but he has no idea of what he wants. What do you think happens when this world does not live up to his expectations? Do you have any idea of what it is like to be displaced from your home, to see how casually reality falls and is replaced? Have you ever considered…” Swatch’s voice calmed to a low tenor. He leaned in close, spreading his wings around Ralsei’s body so that it was just the two of them. The chaos of the world seemed to disappear for a moment as he delivered his final truth. “Have you considered that you’re under your own delusions of what Dark Worlds are made of?”

“You told me. I don’t believe what you say, about Kris and Susie leaving me behind. They won’t forget about me, because I actually care for them!”

“You don’t seem to realize the gravity of your own situation. I know of things that you could only dream of knowing.”

“Like what?”

“A young man is going to enters the young human’s life again next week. He serves the human in every way that you serve for them now. That human, Kris and their brother. What use will you be to them then?”

“I…”

“You are a figment,” Swatch spat, emphasizing the diminutive nature of the word, “of their imagination. You and I exist under a stringent set of criteria. Heal my wings. Let this ordeal be over with and let me take care of things.”

Susie listened with bated breath. “Don’t do it, Ralsei. Don’t.”

She saw a twitch from Ralsei’s ears. Susie shut up immediately. She didn’t know if Swatch had heard her too.

Ralsei considered it for a moment. He wanted to help. It was what he was made for – to be a helpful companion, and a good friend too. He pulled his hand back and fell back with a thud of his head against the railings, refusing to heal Swatch.

“What are you doing? Get up!”

“If my job is done like you say, then…” Ralsei smiled bright. “I’m glad that means Kris and Susie have each other now. I’ve been a good friend after all.”

Ralsei was looking up at the spot where he had heard Susie’s voice. It was utterly pathetic, Susie thought, how utterly innocent he sounded, a smile plastered across his face like a small child falling sound asleep. And perhaps, it was just because Ralsei always felt the good without the bad, only seeing them when they were in the Dark World and never in those unfantastic moments.

“I just wish that it had been one of us that found Berdly that day,” Ralsei said as he shut his eyes. “People will accept help from anywhere if they grow desperate enough.”

Swatch’s eyes trailed up to where Ralsei’s head was facing.

Susie gulped. Hearing the way that he talked to Ralsei sent a shiver down her spine. She was glad that it had been Ralsei who found them that first day instead of him: friendliness with no ulterior motive, no high-pressure sales pitch for something that cost you something precious down the line. Yet, Susie, in excruciating pain, could only think about the soul that lay just a mere feet away from her now. It was something to take away the hurt, the disappointment, the weakness. In the face of an enemy, Susie caved in, but could not bring it to her body in time.

Swatch took his time as he sauntered up the stairs, dripping ink. His eyes were hungry as he passed her view. Susie looked to the soul, then to Kris, and back to Swatch, who now stood right in front of her. With a graceful bow, he scooped the soul off the ground and admired it in his hand.

“It’s heavy,” he noted, as he wondered what to do with it. “The very thing that opens and closes Dark Worlds. I thought it would feel light.”

“Wait,” Susie breathed out. “He needs it. Berdly. He’s up there.”

Swatch’s eye grew wide. “He got out?” He looked up at the expanse above them. In his hand, the soul grew ever so heavy.

*The Fountain is nowhere to be seen.

Slowly, a scarlet tendril connected to the tip of his feathers.

“He’ll die if that Fountain closes. But that,” Susie faltered. With the last of her energy spent, she curled her hand, just slightly, to point at the object in Swatch’s hand.

“What do I do with this?” he yelled at Susie, but she had become unresponsive. Swatch scrambled, looking around, but the three Lighteners piled around his feet, himself the final victor. Eager to use his wings, he squeezed at the ball of light in his hand, but it did nothing for him. For the first time since the Lighteners arrived that day, Swatch felt a genuine, sinking fear. It was a feeling that balanced on the borderline between disgust and anxiousness. That foreign thing in his palm beat like a living creature, reacting to his emotion with a show of warmth, now burning hot like fire. He did not want to be like the human, not through infection with some malignant virus, eaten away by the very thing that had tormented him.

*Out of options, the desperation for time fills you with motivation.

Swatch pressed the soul deep into his chest as he had watched the human do and felt the rush of his strength return, stitching his wings together in an instant. Wrapping a new set of talons around the stair railings, he jumped.

The crack of his wings against the air shattered the silence like a whip.

“Berdly! Where are you? Are you somewhere safe?”

“I’m stuck in the gymnasium. Wait, it’s so loud here. I can’t hear myself talking, just – “

“I’m in the hall. It’s so dark inside, can you see where you are? Berdly?”

The hallway leading to the top of the tower was short when you didn’t have to take the stairs. He had no time to waste.

The house had been so badly damaged now, it wouldn’t have been difficult for him to find another crack in the ceiling and fly out quickly to Castle Town. However, he couldn’t bear to let the future take care of itself without first ensuring that the Young Master was safe. A rush of worry flooded through his system. He was facing a door, slightly ajar, and Berdly was nowhere in sight.

“Berdly!” he cried out. He had not said the boy’s real name in so long, the sound came out raspy and undignified.

This was not how the room appeared to him when he first brought Berdly here. He recalled a dustier place, smaller than he had imagined, and it resembled more of a home than a library. In a rush to leave, he had thrown Berdly in there and slammed the door behind him, not thinking about the implications of what he had stumbled upon.

He gasped, choking as something forced him back and tugged at his limbs without his knowing. The etiquette of noninterference was not something Swatch expected the soul to have, but nonetheless, it introduced a newfound horror to his situation.

* He could make his own Dark World, using the power he possessed now.

“Berdly!’ He yelled again, ignoring the thought that came to him.

Somewhere inside the house, a phone was ringing. The kitchen lights flicked as Swatch came closer, but the ringing persisted loudly as ever. Quicker than a madman, he ripped the phone off the wall.

“I’m coming, stay where you are. It’s chaos. Nobody can see anything. Count your pulse against the minute, okay? I’ll come find you, hang in there.”

“Please pick up if you can hear me. Son, you don’t have to say anything. Just pick up so I know you are okay.”

The line went dead with static. Then, a muffled cry came from one side of the house.

“-ount with me. Ar- you breathi-“

The delicate tension in that house could not have been more fragile. As Swatch stood there, listening, he wondered if he had gone mad. The voice coming from the bedroom at the end of the hall was not Berdly’s, but it seemed so familiar.

“One. Two. Three.”

He walked over to the source of the sound slowly but couldn’t make it two steps across the room without feeling something brush against his feet.

It was a children’s book.

“Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen.”

Pictures decorated the walls in frames. A pack of playing cards were stacked in a neat tower in the hallway, like a castle.

“Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-two.”

He pushed the bedroom door aside.

Swatch’s talons were the first to make it past the carpet seam. His feathers were next, taking the sleek form of a raven’s. It was dark inside that room, but Swatch knew from the moment he set foot there that this was not the Dark World anymore. As he reached for the door behind him, he found nothing but more empty space. Instead, kneeling in front of him was a completely unique creature. He hadn’t noticed Swatch come in.

“Twenty-eight… twenty-nine… thirty…” The grown Lightener bird hovered over a child on the floor. He tilted the boy’s head back and placed two hands centre on his chest again. “One… two…”

The sound of a calm, deep voice was a refreshing change from the incessant whining and crying from all the various children Swatch had been fighting. As he emerged from the back of the room to come inspect the bird closer, he noticed that there was just faintest blue tinge to his coat, like Berdly’s. Tired and battered as he was, Swatch did not think as he opened his mouth.

“I thought you had run off.”

The Lightner froze in his position, hands still clasped tightly around the boy. The ensuing silence was far more humbling than any response could have been. That, and Ralsei’s last words would not leave him.

Fondness was a toy – an eager, volatile thing, unconstrained by any laws of personality. From the thickness of sleep, people dreamed. From the troubled, injured state of the living, people yearned. There was always something to beg for from the past, or from the future, it was all a great big mess. It was in each living thing’s design to grow familiar with something, and in times of desperation, after the layers of personality had been stripped away, all there was left was that deep wish to see something familiar, the desire for fondness.

Inhaling, Swatch pushed his head closer to the Lightner, a mere arm’s length away, then said:

“How fascinating, I recognize you.”

The Lightner paled at that statement. “Is it because I am a doctor?”

Swatch’s preoccupation with keeping the manor afloat had made his desires insoluble against the tide of time that swept him. The look on the Lightner’s face was his only clue for how much time had passed in Berdly’s world, which served as the timekeeper for his own. Sparse feathers decorated the underside of his eyes and were carved hollow with worry. He was dishevelled and wise and carried a mountain of memories in his aged visage. It was the kind of appearance that would sternly remind you: ‘I have a narrative, but you will be hard pressed to finish reading it.’ That sorrow, that wonderful unhappiness that adorned his expression as he held onto the boy, was the greatest mirror Swatch had ever peered into.

There was no indirect way left to say it. Somewhere in those weeks, Swatch had grown fond of it all: the house, the station, and the Swatchling that had come with him. He thought this manor had been his torment, his purgatory before the damnation. Now, all he wanted to do was wither into a grin. All the closed doors he had ever wanted to step through had opened for him. He carried the means to start his own world. With all choices possible laid out in front of him at last, he finally knew what he was here for, and now, there was just one obstacle left in his way.

He knew who the Lightner was. He had been diligently working himself into the role, unknowingly for weeks, and Ralsei was right: he had done it for selfish reasons. Left behind in a crumbling world, he found the boy. But in a way, the boy found his way to Swatch as well, and he was just desperate enough to accept it. Now, he embraced it, not intending to let it go a second time.

To say he recognized the Lightner because he was a doctor? The sentiment was laughable.

“No,” Swatch replied solumnly. “It is because you are the boy’s father.”

“And you?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m here to collect your son.”

Chapter Text

“There is a gymnasium full of children back there.”

The few next words wrapped tightly around the Doctor’s beak, refusing to let him speak. For many years, he had been tempted by schemes that his mind would offer him, ways to get out of his work, methods of corner-cutting, and moral crimes that could compromise one’s beliefs. That chronic case of righteousness was what gnawed at him during times like these. When his consciousness spoke, it was with a reluctant calmness, like a physician saying all the right things while knowing that patients rarely followed orders as they were given. It was against his oath. There was no clocking out of being a doctor. There was no clocking out of being a father, either, unless you considered the possibility that soon, he may no longer be one.

“Take one of them instead.”

Death’s body held still for a few long seconds. In front of him, a doctor was no more. Something behind its throat bobbed up and down, its eyes squeezed tightly as its hands wove around the boy’s simple clothes. It did not feel real to say what he had just said. It could disorient a person, not from the ground-up, but from somewhere deep inside the soul.

Death’s pulse was unavoidably perceptible, beating with a different cadence, a different intensity, a different timbre from his own. Death was lively, in the way that decay could be persistent, and pain could be quick. It glowed from the chest, bright and beautiful, a great tangle of memories that reminded you of so many things, it was impossible to not assume a personality upon it. Berdly’s father was no more than an aged body, a meager thing to be pitied. He carried a foretaste of death in the making, evident by the loose feathers around his arms and the vanished wit from his eyes. Between him and Death, his son’s body appeared small. The odour of mental sickness coming from his posture was apparent as his own – tired and detached. His physical frame was the subordinate toy to a mind that had passed through so many futile days, it lost its will to play.

He could hear the echoes of the past ringing in his ear. When was the last time he had spoken to his son? When was the last time Berdly called him by his name, or asked him for help? There were words that left his tongue at some point but never left his ears.

There’s a gymnasium full of children back there. Take one of them instead.

His old eyes began to sting. At what age did Berdly obtain his own house keys again? Could he still recall what he sounded like as a child? He was a father, for crying out loud, why did it feel so compromising to admit that not all lives were equal in his mind? As a doctor, how could he justify the hours not spent helping those in greater need? Why must two things exist in the same space, held together by a flimsy day and night switch that was impossible to balance?

Sometimes, Berdly’s father just needed someone to disagree with. It was a method of inquiry that seldom benefitted him when making friends or raising a child. It was not guided by rationality or an interest in Socratic dialogue. No, it was something else entirely – an innate fear of succumbing to the inevitable. In the face of death, few people’s instinct was to agree. And right now, Death was insisting he hand over his son.

“That’s not very noble of you.”

The words had not been said, so much as the words became known to him. Death had produced them, but they had not traveled through air. They were inside of his mind, not heard, nor felt, but known.

Death snickered. It was a strange noise, altering between clicks and echoes. The room suddenly felt larger than it was, expanding in all directions until the echoes lost their footing, and diluted into the air. There was no scent in the air, no heat, nor sensation of cold. Like a Bunsen burner pushing the air with its flame, Death motioned away the world with the soft sweep of its hand, laughter smoothing away the details of the room until all that was left was the sight darkness enveloping the room.

“I think I will take this one.”

“You don’t… you don’t want him.” Berdly’s father felt very sick, the deep sort of discomfort emerging from the base of one’s stomach after a long car trip. Nature did not invent the animal to sit still and be in rapid motion simultaneously – it was a conflict between the mind and body.

The sound came from all around him, from within him. Berdly’s father kept his hands grasped so tightly around Berdly’s body that he could feel the beat of his own soul through the tightly pressed skin of his fingers. Was this what it felt like to lose one’s footing? To fall through the cracks, as so many essayists liked to say?

Death’s hand reached for the boy. Berdly’s father saw, from the corner of his sight, the glow of crimson behind the creature’s chest clearly now, taking the shape of a heart.

“There is nothing this boy has that another child doesn’t.” Firmly, he repeated himself. “You don’t want him. There’s many of them… there’s…”

He thought of mayor’s daughter, the one who could do sports and academics, who visited him often to see her father. He thought of the old ladies at the diner who came by frequently and spoke of their children who grew distant and eventually vanished from their lives. He thought of the boy beneath his grip, the one who grew bored often and liked to fight him on every small matter. The same one who just needed someone to disagree with, who spoke with the softness of someone who knew their words would fall on deaf ears.

“There’s a coward in front of me, who believes he is speaking to death and somehow, he has offered everyone in the building except for himself.”

As soon as it began, the world came to a grinding halt.

He and Death were inches apart, separated only by Berdly’s body, which had not budged even a little bit. It was an unusual sight. From the red glow of Death’s chest, Berdly’s father could make out the shape of a single finger, pointed down at Berdly’s body, as though to touch it. It lingered over him, the atmosphere distorting its hand like ink bleeding into a glass of water. Death pulled back ever so slightly, and its hand returned to shape. The separation between their worlds was small, but ever so present.

Death looked up at him. In the darkness, there was nothing other but the soft glow of crimson to illuminate the shape of Death’s face. Deep in the recesses of his memory, Berdly’s father recalled a small toy that they had in the house. In the hallway leading to the bedroom, there was a night light, a small lava lamp, meant to curb a child’s fear of the dark. That’s what it was like – the faint glow, surrounded by nothing but black. It was like looking at himself in the bathroom mirror after dark, given form.

“Why can’t I reach him?”

The two looked at each other. No sound could be heard, but the faint beating of a soul. Berdly’s father could not answer it. It was such a simple question, but he just did not have an answer for it.

When they discovered Berdly’s body in the library, it had been completely cold. Here, in the midst of nothing, his father wondered if this is what it felt like, to be surrounded by darkness with no one for company, but a curious Death. Perhaps it was a better end than most could hope for, that in one’s last moments, someone would come by. What would’ve became of Berdly if no one had found him that day, if Death had gotten to him first before the librarian.

Curiously, he lifted one hand off of Berdly’s body to touch the air where Death’s hand has previously been. There were many burning questions to ask. Before his hand could breach the edge of the separation, he hesitated.

“You ask me that question as if I know the answer." If there is a way to reach out to him, I still haven’t figured it out.

A pause. No response. Berdly’s father removed his hand from the barrier. Even without reaching forward, he could feel his skin changing, a rapid quickening of his pulse where his physical body just barely noticed the other side. He imagined that if were to pass, he would feel his own body dissipate like Death’s had, soft as ink falls onto the page from the pen.

“Were you there with him, the first time? I need to know.”

Not a word.

Berdly’s father sighed. “I knew something was not possible, then. People do not come to life after their soul stops moving. Not for as long as his stopped. I don’t know what forces exist that makes people move the way they do. With cells and molecules, things are so much simpler. When a solution is dense, macromolecules will come together. They are so uncomfortably deprived of solvent that they seek each other. Do you think people are like that too? To satisfy their electrostatic needs, they find a substitute, in whatever is closest to them? He tells me nothing, nobody does. I can’t stop thinking about what happened that night, who was with him, who was responsible for hurting him, who saved him. That’s all I know about being alive – things coming apart and coming back together, causes and effects, but not what happens in between these states.”

After a moment, Berdly’s father finally raised his head to look at Death’s face again. “I know it wasn’t me who brought him back that day.” His eyes were crinkled around the edges, feathers not quite as blue as one would expect. There was nothing malicious about the way the bird looked. He was not horrifying, not intimidating in his current position.  “It was you, wasn’t it?”

Swatch could lie. He could convince the boy’s father to nudge the body just a little closer to him. He could ask him to perhaps reach out once more, and then forcibly yank the two of them over by an inch. Maybe, if he just promised to take care of the boy, before whatever remained of the Fountain crumbled and dissipated for good, the father would oblige and willingly hand over.

He could also go his own way. He needn’t bring the boy with him anymore. He had the power to transform worlds now. If he wanted, he could have…

“No.”

Berdly’s father frowned. “Then who?” No longer in the face of Death, he was like any other old bird, reaching an agreement with himself.

“Him. He could’ve gone anywhere. The Fountain would have allowed it.” He looked at Berdly’s form, held together by none other than five minutes of memory still kept safe under his waistcoat. Swatch’s beak clenched, heat rising from the base of his chest. His arms grew restless, unable to pass through the inch of space separating him and Berdly. Even in dire straits, the boy had his disobedient streaks. He looked up at Berdly’s father, resentful. “But when it came time for him to decide…” He sent me to the back of his mind. And himself, back to you.

Time stretched out unevenly between them. The Fountain’s magic was at its minimum now, moments away from burning out its last reserves. Perhaps that was what really made Swatch angry, the fact that both could see where the barrier separating their worlds sat, but only one knew of its significance. Only one felt the frustration of knowing that it he have chosen to be anywhere else, but hadn't.

“What did he choose?” Berdly’s father had the faintest voice Swatch had ever heard, a bit worried, a bit defeated, and just slightly hopeful.

Swatch concealed his displeasure. Slyly, he whispered, “he chose to come back to me, time and time again."

Berdly's father frowned.

"What, you don’t believe me?”

Reaching into a spot hidden from the other bird’s view, he pulled out a small itinerary, stuffed full of papers. It was a little secret that Berdly would never know, for Swatch’s book contained everything Berdly remembered about their time together. He had been keen to make sure that in the event something like this happened, the young master would not forget. For all of Ralsei’s rattling and tattling about, Swatch did take one thing seriously, and it was the threat of becoming obselete. Carefully selecting one, he pulled the fresh manilla sheet from its safekeeping spot and held it out to the bird. To take it, he would have to reach his hand past the barrier.

“It isn’t like me to pry, but what good is information if it is not learned from? I’m sure he would have asked the same question."

The paper sheet was as thin as a tissue, faintly moving with the distortion of the barrier.

"Go on. Take it.”

It was not the response the bird was expecting. It was the everything that every parent wished to have, the one thing that Berdly would not willingly give to him, no matter how much he wanted it. And yet, it was not what he wanted in that moment.

“Come on, I know you’re curious. You are a scientist. A good one, at that, and an excellent cook when you put in the effort to make something. Oh, look here,” Swatch pretended to read. “He thinks you’re a fraud. He knows all about the things you tried that never worked, the falsehoods you accidentally say but never correct in front of others. He saw the way you looked at that professor at the melanoma conference two years back, brimming with envy when gave his keynote speech. Half as old, twice as accomplished, that’s what he thought of you then. It’s what he thinks of you now, maybe.”

“That’s…”

“He cannot lie to you anymore. His true feelings about you are right here, if you want to see.”

“You mean those are – “

“Your son’s thoughts. His –“

“… Memories.”

Berdly’s father could not keep his arms from shaking as he lifted them from Berdly’s chest. He was moving at an infinitely slow pace, deliberating his every movement, but Swatch could wait just a few more seconds. He readied himself to yank the paper back as soon he would make a reach for it. But to his surprise, Berdly’s father leaned down, as though in prayer. Even with his face concealed, Swatch could see his chest rising and falling, his laboured breathing, and the gentle way he held onto Berdly’s hand, even with half his body no longer facing him.

And then, he pushed the boy towards him.

“I – I can’t do it. I know I can’t fix whatever… this is. I don’t understand it. Even if I could, maybe…” Berdly’s father took a moment to gather himself. He thought of their house, the illumination of their kitchen, their shared items, and time together, even if not every moment had been spent with the same degree of presence. “Maybe Berdly needs someone who can meet him where he is. Someone he can go to, when – when things become too much to bear. I just… I always knew one day he would no longer need me. I just didn’t think it would be so early, and like this. I always thought, maybe…” Berdly’s father let out a long breath. “Maybe after the excitement of university passes, or even after he finds a career in a different part of the world, start a family somewhere, he would still come home to me, if not for just a few days.”

Swatch let the paper fall to Berdly’s body. He wasn’t grabbing for the boy. He couldn’t understand why his body would not permit itself to, even if the mind was willing. “Why don’t you just keep him there?”

“I could…” Berdly’s father smiled for the first time that evening. He brushed back the feathers from his son’s face. “I could, but I would never forgive myself for it.”

Swatch’s hand gravitated towards his chest. His eyes were glassy once he realized what he was about to do.

Crimson glow dripped from his tightened fist, painful at first, but slowly, a warm sensation overcame it, finding peace in the aftermath of the violent act. He could not recall whether the soul had disconnected from his body, or his body had disconnected from the soul, first. Whichever it was, the deed was already on its way to completion.

He would miss the boy, for sure. He would feel the remaining fibres of his existence fade away to the void as the others had gone in Cyber World. He would hold on to that itinerary as tightly as he could until everything ceased to be. From there, the list just kept flowing. He could imagine his first swatchling, his second, and now his last. And then, all of his memories came through, weighing down his arm until his hand rested on top of Berdly’s body.

In his palm was the power to give rise to anything in the world, to create entire worlds from scratch, and yet, there was nothing that Swatch wished to have. There were no last words, no final fights, nor things to be done. He had already expressed everything he ever believed, experienced every bit of home he had missed.

Leaning forward, Swatch placed the soul into Berdly’s body.

All around them, the world began to stir.

“Okay, could you just repeat that for clarification, please?”

“There’s been a gas leak over at the –”

“You’re cutting out.”

“In the gymnasium, it’s getting hard to –“

“… Ma’am?”

Hometown Public School is run by the GECDSB. This is the official account for all local updates. The Greater Ebott County District School Board welcomes over two hundred students, including a significant portion of students whose first language was not English.

With the sports and academic event calendar under maintenance, we will monitor the situation and provide an hourly update regarding temporary school bus routes or cancellations.

Susie? Susie! Why are you in here with – oh. Is that…

Give me your phone, Noelle!

It’s everywhere… Oh my God! What do we –

Here is a list of the status of schools, if they are open or closed, across the Greater Ebott County District School Board. Last updated, 20 minutes ago.

Barksdale Elementary School: School is open.

Farraday Bilingual Academy: School is open.

Hometown Public School: Temporary disruptions to public transport services. School remains open.

“Please hold. All lines are currently occupied. information on seasonal vaccinations, press one. For paediatric care inquiries, press two. For emergency services, please stay on the line.”

Here is a list of the status of schools, if they are open or closed, across the Greater Ebott County District School Board. Last updated, now.

Barksdale Elementary School: School is open.

Farraday Bilingual Academy: School is open.

Hometown Public School: Closed.

“Wait, can you hear me? I can hear you.”

“Wonderful. Stay on the line.”

“Help is on the way.”

Chapter Text

Dear Paperslip,

I know nobody is actually reading these. There’s a stack of boxes right outside his door when you go hand them off at the reception, and it’s probably filled with them. When I went to go get my arm checked again, the new guy they had at the reception said that the doctor was busy with everyone's slips. I got a glimpse of him from down the hall and sure enough, he was just in his office, on his phone.

I can’t even blame him. Everyone calls it a case of mass hysteria, like that time a bunch of people danced to death. Mayor Holiday told Noelle who told everyone that she thinks it’s a gas leak and somehow, it got to everyone’s head. Regardless, this is probably the most patients he’s ever had to see all at once, and so, he’s taken the easy way out and sent everyone home to do journaling. It’s therapeutic, he keeps saying. Most give up too, and when they do, I bet he just checks off a box that says the problem is solved.

Mom says that means that the entire school vent system must be fixed. They’re going to look for gas, then mold, then some other stuff, and once they look at the entire thing over like a dozen times, they’ll finally say there’s nothing wrong with it. Everything looks fine, they have no idea what really happened, it probably will just go away on its own.

Of all the stuff she doesn’t believe in right now, she somehow really believes in this. That, and when I tried to give up, the doctor just frowned at me and told me to keep going. I asked him if he’s been reading these, and he didn’t exactly answer my question. He said I am supposed to write these like I am writing to an old friend or something, not to him specifically. He gives a new prompt each day and told me to just put everything that’s been bothering me into words.

So, paperslip. I don’t know what bothers me more, the knowledge that I am talking to myself now, or the confirmation that there will never be a response.

Kris Dreemurr

Morning was always the most difficult. There was that heavy feeling that came with the slow return to reality, when you had to decide in five minutes whether you would attempt a sick day or just deal with a regular day. You could plug a charger into a dead wall for a century and people would still try to convince you that one more day would have done the trick. It was a Monday, too, which felt extra punishing. Kris had become more indecisive than usual.

Spring break came without much fanfare. The class was not all in one place to discuss anything, so people took to talking about it online. There were many such groups that Kris was not in. Whether it was due to recent events, they were not sure. News of the break came silent and short. After the Spelling Bee Incident, the school declared a momentary pause in all activities, and soon, a moment turned into a week. Spring break wasn’t cancelled, mom said, just moved up the calendar a bit.

On Tuesday, things became clear.

The circle of friends they had made over the past few weeks dissolved, their backs turned with finality after that humiliating display last week on stage. It had been Kris’s first ever Spelling Bee, the only one where they made it to the stage at all. In theory, it was an accomplishment for Kris to have been out there in person, attending it with their face held high. However, with Berdly’s situation turning out for the worse, Kris had scretly hoped to win and that was meant to be the real accomplishment. It was supposed to be their start of everything great. Up on stage, Kris could feel every nerve in their body. Now, the sensation of the thrill had dulled significantly. Where there was once an encouraging voice, there was nothing but silence. It too, had disappeared. That, along with the desire to get up in the morning.

Wednesday’s question caught Kris suddenly, while the sun was still low. How did Berdly ever do it? Before he became a winner?

There was a new feeling in Kris’s chest now, and it was different – neither envy, nor compassion. Kris found a grin spreading across their face when nobody was looking. Their tongue would run dry across their lips, cracked and hurting. They had neglected their care while mom was busy. Everyone’s parents were busy: Noelle’s, and Berdly’s, but this was different. Kris could not bring the energy forward to enjoy the rare week-long break that had suddenly appeared in front of them. Their limbs were buoyant where their head was heavy, floating around their room, pacing, like they were all but living. Kris had become a ghost; a can that had been emptied of its garbage.

Oh, that’s what that feeling was. It was pity.

People saw in Kris a device that when applied correctly, could lead to Berdly’s humiliation. It was not a love for Kris that brought the class together, it was a competitive excitement to see Berdly lose at something. When Kris’s senses came back to them in harsh fullness, a truth stood tall and unconquerable in front of them. Without the help of their little friend, there was nothing that the class could want from Kris. The sadness came slowly at first. With all of Kris’s homely distractions and games, no amount of running could keep it at bay. All at once, it came to Kris, and then, it couldn’t be stopped.

An additional bit of news broke, late in the evening. Asriel would not be coming home. With all that was happening, mom said she’d prefer if he waited until the semester was over.

Thursday passed.

Besides Kris was the sharpest of knives. Kris put a hand down, to lean against their bedframe. They had to shift their weight a bit, to keep their back from sliding off. They were getting tired. Sitting up had become an exercise, all on its own.

At night, the images came. Dreams of something that never happened, wishful thinking, and all sorts of things. Imaginative futures had become a pastime. The effect on Kris’s mind was sharp. Sometimes, after wrestling with their own imagination, Kris’s skin smelled of metal.

In the utter silence of their room, they could hear their own throat as they swallowed. Their mind felt swollen and numb, too thick for words, much less fully-formed thoughts.

Kris’s cheeks warmed, thinking about Berdly. Through the darkness, they imagined what he would say, if he were there. Kris almost did not breathe, their stomach clenching. Would he have something to say? A snarky comment about their loss? Would Berdly rub it in their face that with all of Kris’s tricks, he still came out on top? It couldn’t be. He had lost too, probably even worse than Kris. Even in their current state, utterly detached from the outside world, Kris had still gotten a whiff of a rumour that something bad happened to him on stage, at the final round. Moments later, people claimed, strange things began to happen. There were whispers, according to many witnesses who had been there, echos of past conversations, dreams of events that did not happen to them. Among those instances of delirium, people claimed there were similarities. There were resemblances of people in hometown, figures that they could vaguely recognize. And strangely, there was a mutual agreement that the strange dreams carried one quality: it made them feel anxious. Their bodies felt hollow, as if a storm had gone through it. A constant worry flooded through them, like intrusive ghosts.

Kris thought of that house again. Their eyes were half-sleepy, drifting between sleep and wake. They thought of Berdly’s fake butler, the servants and machinations of his imagination, whispering to Kris though the medium of memory. If Berdly ever spoke to them again, would he be more sympathetic this time around, with everything considered? No one else would be, but maybe if Berdly could fall just a little more, out of desperation, he would join Kris in this awful feeling. Kris held their arms close to their body, the crooks of their elbows tucked away, trembling. Even their breaths were laboured. It sounded as though Kris had been running fast and far for days. With a chill, Kris realized that they did not know what happened to Berdly after that day. If he was dead, Kris had no idea.

The hours passed, and then the days. Soon, it was Monday again, and that meant that everyone would be returning to school.

Kris’s dry mouth tasted sour, their hair unbrushed. Crippled by their fall, Kris wondered if there was any point in trying to get up at all.

“We have to head out soon,” mom called. It was six in the morning. “They want to speak to you at the police station.”

Kris did not realize they were being spoken to, at first. There was a habit being nipped in the bud, but remnants of an old behaviour still lingered behind. If you heard something, you pretended not to notice. When Kris moved, it was as though an extra pair of feet had done all the actual walking.

“Hey, it says here you were scheduled to be here yesterday.”

“I was at the doctor's,” Kris said dully. It was the same excuse Berdly liked to use, even if he was seldom late for class. No one could prove that the doctor didn’t say it to him, note or not.

However, now it was everyone’s safe excuse. Nearly everyone in town had been to the doctor’s office sometime in the past week, mellowing out in the aftermath of Friday. Whatever went down in the gymnasium had frightened enough people that the town called an immediate health emergency. There was nothing to fix, which was the funny part, in Kris’s opinion. Those who claimed a mass hysteria were cured instantly, because there was no mass hysteria. The rest, who claimed a gas leak, would not find anything during an inspection.

Although Kris had a thought, what if someone walked into that old classroom again? Would there be anything behind those doors?

“You know, you’re lucky someone found you so quickly.”

Kris turned their head to face the front desk. There, sat a monster with obscured eyes, hidden behind a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. Their posture was slumped over in front of some papers, pretending to check things over. Kris had been sitting in the lobby of the police station for over an hour at this point, having been there since six in the morning at mom’s orders. Napstablook was supposed to be there. They must have called in sick from “hysteria”, Kris assumed. Word had spread around town that something whacky and strange happened, and somehow everyone was eligible to use delirium-recovery as an excuse to slack off. Kris could’ve sworn even the old ladies at the diner took days off with that excuse. Heck, even the grocery store guy took the week off, and he definitely wasn’t there that day the Dark World flooded their school.

Kris’s fist tightened.

“Woah, kid, must’ve struck a nerve, hah. My bad. All I’m saying is, your arm would have been totally busted if it weren’t for that girl, Noelle.”

“…”

“Awe shucks, I did it again, didn’t I?” The new attendant became pensive . “I really gotta keep my mouth shut sometimes, but heh, sometimes it’s a hard habit to break.”

“…”

“You know, I have a pretty good memory for some stuff, not for everything though.”

Kris groaned. It had been like this for the entire morning. Whoever Undyne hired must have been fired from their previous job for being too irritating. There was nothing to do until Undyne finished talking to whoever she was talking to. School wouldn’t start for another hour.

“Actually, I probably shouldn’t say. My point is, you’ve got some good friends.”

Kris squinted. “I remember you now.”

“Hey now, I – “

“You’re from the hospital.”

“Listen kid, I know you know me from somewhere else, but I swear this isn’t what it looks like. The doc I, well uh – well, there were these tests I was supposed to do but, you know what – never mind!”

“Sounds like he fired you.”

“H-hospital stuff is confidential! I wasn’t fired, it was a mutually-agreed leave. To seek, ummm, other career possibilities!”

“I bet it’s got something to do with Berdly.”

Fast as a whip, the attendant’s head turned to face them. “What!?”

“I’m not dumb,” Kris groaned, hand cradling the cast on their arm. “Everything is about Berdly.”

The attendant leaned forward and sighed, “Listen kid, I’m not going to pretend like I don’t know you and those kids have something going between the lot of you, but trust me, it ain’t all that bad.”

“…”

“Promise to keep a secret?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“Well, I’ll say it anyway. That girl, Noelle, I think she has a soft spot for you!”

At that news, Kris’s posture shifted. “What?”

“I told you kid, chin up.” The attendant smiled calmly. “Someone cares. I know that everyone’s spirits in here tend to be down. I mean, it’s the police station after all. But look, I’ve had my fair share of this kinda vibe at the hospital. I recognized her phone number. You see, she checks in at the reception all the time when she visits her dad. There wasn’t a name given during the call, but I mean, it’s from the same number. I thought the fact would cheer you up.”

The fact did not cheer up Kris at all. Nearly the whole town caught whiff that Kris and Susie were invovled in Berdly's whole mess now, even if they didn’t know what really went on. Kris felt their fist forming again. Why did she call? They had not been close since they were kids. And throughout it all, not a single person had bothered to call or text Kris, the person. Kris may not have cared if Jockington or Catti came to get an update, but Susie had not spoken to them in an entire week. The last thing Kris remembered was falling. By the time they opened their eyes again, they had a cast wrapped around their arm.

Behind the glass, Kris could see the outline of someone's hair, wild and full. Kris's panic swelled, when they realized who it belonged to. Their foot tapped repeatedly against the legs of the waiting chairs. Their eyes scanned across the room, hoping that when Susie turned her head, she would be able to somehow feel Kris’s gaze.

You left me in the dark about all of this. You left me.

“Hello? Kid? I guess I’m just saying that you should be happy that someone called for help. She clearly cares about you. I mean, she was in such a hurry, she didn’t even leave a name. It’s a good thing I remembered the number. I mean, seriously, over the phone, she had such a deep voice, I thought it was a dude.”

Without meaning to, Kris looked over at the attendant, unsure of what to say. The entire station was loud with the buzz of the air conditioning. It felt cold and sterile, petrifying even. Yet, even amidst all the distractions, the last of the attendant’s words had not fallen on deaf ears.

“And you say she called?”

“Yeah, and she called you her best friend.”

Susie emerged from the room, expressionless and quiet. There was not a trace of recognition for Kris as Susie passed by.

“I’ll drive her,” said Undyne, voice chipper than what someone would’ve expected from an interrogation. “Be back in ten. Gotta speak to Tori.” Soon, both disappeared out the front door.

Napstablook emerged from the room next, and beckoned Kris to follow. Napstablook was hard to read. It wasn’t so much of the lack of expression that made things eerie, nor the fact that there was a literal ghost sitting in front of them. It was the utter mundanity of the situation. You could blame the anxiety of being questioned on the fact that Undyne was scary, if she was interrogating you. But Napstablook? The only thing in the room was the question.

Kris sat down in a metal chair, arms shivering from the blast of cold air.

Napstablook pulled out a clipboard unceremoniously. “Oh, only a few questions. Great.”

Kris clutched at their arm, enveloped in a cast. According to the doctor, the situation had been serious. If not for the hospital being so close to the school, it likely would have been worse. Kris wanted to scream at whoever called. Kris wanted to have been left alone, not to deal with all the ensuing chaos, but simultaneously, had it not been for that phone call, Kris would not even be around. And then, the floodgates of worry rushed over Kris. If they had been discovered in such a state, then what had happened to Susie?

All the memories came back like a slingshot, pulled back in anticipation. It felt longer than a week, and simultaneously, like it had never happened at all. This was it, the end of Spring Break, and Kris had nothing left to do, but this. If the police had gotten involved, surely something big had happened. People did not undergo questioning to investigate a broken arm. People did not go to these lengths for Kris. 

“I did it.”

“Did what?”

The front desk attendant was right. Soon, nobody would have to worry about such things ever again. Kris would make sure of it.

I pushed Berdly to do it.

I started the rumours in the first place.

I did…

“All of it.” Kris raised their head to meet to eye. A weeks’ worth of idle thinking had come to fruition, and at last, the decision was made.

There was a commotion in the hall, as there usually was. By now, it was not news that something strange had happened during the Spelling Bee, but contrary to what most people believed, there was no consensus on what actually happened. This was precisely the kind of scenario that generated the most amount of speculation.

Susie didn’t expect to be driven to school by Undyne, of all people. It was strange, but given their usual spiel, this was a far better outcome than Susie could have hoped. However, technically, Undyne had driven her away from school. She said it was to prevent people from thinking that Susie had been at the police station that morning. Trust me, dude, she said, this is one hell of a time to be seen walking out of the police station. Unnecessary, but nice, Susie supposed.

“See ya, buster!”

Undyne left without another word, off to do whatever cops did. By chance, somehow the police department was the least busy during all of this. It was the hospital that bore the brunt force of a hundred illnesses in the span of one day. Err – week, depending on whether you counted those doctor-prescribed journal exercises as medical care.

Noelle stood by the entrance of the school, not-so-expertly pretending to check something on her phone. Susie was happy to see Noelle here so early. Though, perhaps it was Susie who was early. She was the one who normally showed up well past the second or third bell. Noelle, perfectly on time. Susie walked over, but didn’t make it far before Noelle yelped in surprise, almost dropping her phone.

“Hey!” Susie smiled. “Let’s skip school,” she joked.

Noelle’s eyes grew wide. “It’s the first day back, Susie.”

“What, were you going to take me up on the offer if it was like, the twenty fifth day or something?” Susie poked at Noelle’s shoulder. “Come on, I was kidding. But seriously, what are you waiting for? Let’s get out of the way before the hall monitor starts accusing us of loitering.”

“What?”

“Oh, never mind.” Susie grabbed her hand and lead her down the hall. For a moment, she thought maybe someone would give them a nasty stare, or perhaps even a word. A tsk, like Noelle’s mom usually gave her whenever she came by to their house during the ‘spring break’. “They’re weirdly… calm about this.”

“About what?”

Susie did not know what she wanted to say, really. She expected people to look at her strangely, maybe because she was holding hands with Noelle. Maybe, becuase Susie had done something awful. "I don't know. You don't have a backpack. Maybe that's it."

“Oh! I dropped it off in class. Ms. Alphys said it was fine, but to just not leave behind my phone and stuff. You know, valuables.”

It didn’t slip Susie’s attention that Noelle kept checking her phone. A nice-looking pen stuck out from the pocket of her skirt, the kind she didn’t usually keep.

“Did you umm, see anyone on your way here?”

Susie sighed. She considered what to say next. “No, but I did see Kris at the police station.” It was as wrong of an answer as any, but at least it wasn’t going to set Noelle on route to another anxiety-ridden spiral.

Her expression soured, just slightly. She was not that great of an actor. Her nor Berdly, really. When something was up, you could tell immediately.

“What were you doing there?” There was worry, heavy in her voice.

“Uh, talking to Undyne?”

“You didn’t do anything. You know that, right?”

Susie scoffed, looking up at the ceiling and all around the hall. It was strange to see things had gone back to normal so quickly. Noelle could be so quick to judge, but also so quick to forgive. It was one of the few things that Susie would’ve guessed about Noelle, but she knew her better now. People weren’t perfect, but Susie was the last person to be making that judgement. “As much as everyone else didn’t do anything, yeah.”

That wasn’t the answer Noelle wanted to hear. “What did you two talk about?"

Susie shrugged. “She just wanted to ask how I was doing. You know, catching up.”

“At the police station?”

“Well duh, that’s where she usually is, isn’t she? Look, Noelle,” Susie rested a hand on her shoulder. “I’m fine. And I’m sure he’s fine, too. Listen, if it was actually that serious, they would’ve questioned everyone in town by now. They didn’t ask you anything, right? And I bet they would’ve. I mean, you called.”

Noelle did not seem comforted by that. “I froze up. What if you weren’t there?”

“Listen – “

“Do you think he’s coming? Nobody’s seen him since, you know.”

Susie didn’t know what to say. Noelle stopped just in front of her own locker. The one beside her, untouched – Berdly’s.

“Sorry,” Noelle fumbled with her lock, purposefully looking away. “I mean, you can put your stuff here if you want. We’re a bit far from your locker.”

Monday always had the busiest morning of the bunch. It was usually when everyone caught each other up on whatever weekend thing went down. After a week of not seeing each other, there was plenty to say.

Susie sat down at the back of the classroom and watched as the people slowly filled the room. Morning was always the brightest time of the day. The light scent of fresh coffee filled the room from a large cup on Alphys’ desk, just as the cosmic lever began to tilt, lifting dawn past the base of the window. You could sit there peering out into the street and be satisfied for an eternity. People would try to pull you away, convincing you to get a move on already, but there was a peaceful kind of joy in just watching morning come to fruition. Things were just that alluring when you looked at them through a fresh pair of eyes. Call it perspective, if you really want.

“Yo, Susie.”

Jockington somehow slipped past her vision. It wasn’t that much of a surprise. Despite sitting next to each other in class, Susie rarely paid any attention to him. She was usually late for class, but still, with Jockington being a bit on the short side, she’d have to purposefully go looking for him to really catch wind of whatever he was doing.

“What do you want?” She usually would have flashed a row of teeth, but somehow, things felt calmer than usual. Susie felt strangely lax, despite what was going on.  

Unfazed, Jockington set his books on the table. “Yo, are you and Noelle like …?”

Even from the back of the class, Susie could see that Noelle had crumpled into her chair like Jockington, her antlers just barely visible above the chair.

“What did you say?” Susie squinted. People could never just get to the point, could they?

Jockington shook his head. “Nevermind. Did Snowy tell you about the campfire thing yet? We found this totally awesome spot.”

“What, like a patch of dirt that isn’t covered in grass?”

“No dude, you wanna come? We’re blasting smores. Catti’s said they found a bunch of old marshmallows at the diner that they’re trying to get rid of. Her manager said we could have like, five bags all to ourselves."

“Marshmallows expire?”

“That’s not what I said!”

Catti rolled her eyes. “She’s probably coming if Noelle isn’t, right?” she said, coyly. “But seriously, if you two want to come, you have to decide soon.”

Susie’s looked to Noelle with some surprise. Was this what it was like to be one of Noelle’s friends? She did not know of how many moments like that had passed her by. She did not know of where those words came from, nor what it was like to hear them directed at her. Susie nodded her head, barely, looking to Noelle, but she did not turn around.

Softly, Susie asked. “Hey, Noelle. You wanna go? Sounds like fun.”

Noelle’s attention was fixated to a spot by the entrance to the classroom. At the far end of the hallway, two people were talking. An older voice, male, and someone younger. The sound was so faint, none of them could hear it until it was just outside the door.

“Well,” an older voice asked. “We are here. You need me to come with you?”

The classroom fell silent. The shadow of someone standing was carefully positioned so the light from the hallway lit them from behind. Three peaks fell just so slightly out of place, in a familiar shape to anyone who had ever sat behind him. The next few words came as close to a truth as it could, by every iteration of the word, every spelling and definition possible.

“No need,” he said. “I feel great."

The walk to school extended well over the first bell. Someone else’s pen was in Kris’s pocket, left on the police station desk by the attendant, who noticed late into Kris’s visit that they had not brought any books nor lunch with them. Kris didn’t have much need for that. A second-hand pen was as good as any other pen Kris could have picked up that morning, along with all their other second-hand dealings in life. The walls, the floors, the long, fluorescent bulbs that ran up and down the hall were teeming with memories. Kris tiptoed down the hall. Even though everyone had gone to their respective classrooms half an hour ago, there was still that staertled fear that someone would catch the way their feet dragged backwards, lethargic and not at all like the Spelling Bee champion that could’ve been. All evidence of their otherworldly meddlings had wasted and died over the week break. Down by the boiler room, the old classroom door was closed, and that was where Kris was headed.

No one could intrude on Kris if they simply disappeared now. Perhaps if they leaned just far over the edge of the room, they could catch a whiff of Ralsei’s baking, or even just the sound of Lancer’s laughter slurred by the distance between Kris and the drop below. Kris couldn’t bear not knowing, even if they would not survive another disappointment. The knowledge that they might not even have this added to the great burden of unhappiness.

That dream of taking Berdly’s place at the top of the class, what was expected to follow? Had anything worked out, was there much in this world that couldn’t be replicated, and better, in Castle Town? A thousand sensations could cease to be if they just – no, they couldn’t think about that now. Everything reminded Kris of everything.

For a moment, it seemed like time stood still. Walking further into the classroom, Kris began to cradle the cast around their arm. It had been exactly in this spot. Behind, a teacher was approaching, but Kris was not listening. There was a certain belligerence to the way the footsteps echoed down the hall, brimming with anger. The school had become increasingly appaling to the senses, like there was a phantom metallic odour, reminding Kris of how their nose restricted upon travelling between worlds, and now it felt to sleep on a narrow bed, heavy with guilt. The truth laid bare on Kris’s bare senses, rubbed raw: there was no Dark World here. Not even a trace of evidence for the accident they had almost succumbed to here.

Toriel’s head, with ears like Asriel’s cast a deep shadow across the floor, second only to Kris’s.

“What are you doing here?” She did not sound angry, which was the most humiliating part. It would have been preferable to hear Mom shout. “You should be in class.”

Word spread fast. It did not take long for people to think Berdly caught the stench of burnout. Eventually, Kris’s confession to reach the school, directly to the principal. That was assuming the police did not contact her as Kris’s mother, first.

“I got distracted. I just – thought I dropped something here.”

“Oh dear,” she leaned forward to hold Kris up and off the floor. “I know this place must be hard for you. You’re not the only one.”

That must have been why the room had been cleared out, thought Kris. 

“I’ll call and see if Undyne might have picked up anything that was yours.”

“No!” Kris said quickly. “I don’t think... it's there anymore.” 

“Well,” she asked carefully. “What did it look like?”

Kris’s pulse was racing. They clasped a hand around a spot on their chest. “I-I can’t tell.”

“You can’t tell me what?” Toriel’s voice may have been soft now, but it wouldn’t be, once she heard the news. “Kris. You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

“…”

“That arm was not your fault. It will get better, I promise.”

Toriel’s hand lay heavy on their shoulder. It was such a familiar feeling, and a bad one too. Why did they miss this feeling at all? Why come check the old classroom hoping something would be there? Kris turned, but did not meet her gaze.

“How come you’re here so late? Did something happen at the station?”

“N-no. I just, went to drop off another paperslip.”

“That’s a relief,” Toriel sighed. “I was worried you had gone off and hurt your arm – no, I shouldn’t say such things. I’m just glad to see you’re making an effort for yourself.”

“…”

“I’m proud of you, Kris. You know that?”

“…”

“Let’s just get you to class, then.”

Toriel did not comment on the lack of a backpack, nor on the events of that morning. She simply waited for Kris to come on their own, and promptly, she locked the door behind them. Kris had heard the characteristic second click of the door. With a mundane finality, it was over. Castle Town, had it been there even a little bit, was now behind lock and key.

“Take this.” Toriel placed a blank paper in Kris’s good hand. “Alphys will be there soon. How about you take attendance for the class? You can get some practice writing with your, erm – a other hand,” said Toriel, before turning back to her office. The conversation was short – brief like she had better places to be.

Kris stood in front of the door handle, wondering why Ms. Alphys was not in there with the rest of the class. Was she preoccupied with something? Mom did seem like she was in a hurry.

Then, Kris heard it. It was his voice.

The voice that spoke with its usual air of conceit. The mocking singsong that displayed a disgustingly elevated self-regard. The one that left Kris’s hand hovering above the door handle, scared to walk in. Kris thought he had died.

Forcing their hand against the metal, Kris twisted the knob, ever so slightly, and waitied. Something was different. He laughed, a light sound that was airy and bright. He spoke with a more natural cadence, a laid-back use of his extensive vocabulary which concealed the personality that came with it. Bile rose to the base of Kris’s throat. Their hand pressed forward just a little more, enough to see through a gap in the door.

Sharp as asphyxiation, Kris's muscles paralyzed with the handle.

Sitting in the middle of the classroom, in their chair, was Berdly. A swirl of bright blue feathers was help up against the cover of a book, eyes flickering between the pages until they rose to meet Kris’s own. His appearance was everything else in that room - all that Kris could see. Berdly tilted his head in the barest suggestion that Kris make themself known and join him in the room. Another gesture, this time more of an invitation, followed suit. He leaned forward, wings draping against the spill of sunlight in the room, and got up from the desk. If Kris had the sense to leave, they would have done it sooner, but their body did not move quickly enough before Berdly opened the door.

It was quiet as Kris observed him. This was the first time Kris had seen his face for a long time. Where darkened feathers had previously been on the cusp of falling out, there was no trace of them now. The sun raised the colour around his face, softening the curves of his beak. Something fell from a long height in Kris’s chest, a sinking sensation that something rippled behind those features, now. His eyes were unwavering, drawing out an answer from Kris.

Even without an audience, the utter stillness unnerved them. There was nothing there but a half-conscious movement of his jaw, shaped into the beginning of a word, though hardly enough to pass for one. If Berdly had noticed anything, he did not speak of it. It was not like him to listen and not comment. He was always the better one when it came to words.

“You can come in. The door is unlocked.”

Trailing glances lay all around them, carrying that look. It was the kind of look that attempted to transmit to you a hidden knowledge that you just couldn’t figure out. The same kind that was generally unreadable but you had a distinct feeling that it was something you were supposed to know, but were missing out on, gravely. Glancing over to Noelle, Kris saw that her fists had clenched into a tight ball, lips pressed just as tightly on her face as she simply waited for class to begin.

Kris could not think of anything to say. As if Berdly had heard them deep in thought, he stepped back a bit.

“Well, let yourself in, I guess.”

Unknowingly, Kris had been standing idly in the doorway for nearly an entire minute. As Berdly returned to the wrong seat, Monster Kid’s eyes darted between Kris and Berdly, awaiting something. Kris said nothing. Awkwardly, they took the seat at the very front of the classroom – his seat.

“Is something wrong?” Berdly asked. There was a conviction to his voice that Kris had not ever heard before.

“No,” said Kris firmly.

Monster Kid, ironically, was in a happier mood than the others. With Kris’s back turned to the rest of the class, they could not see it, but it was evident in the way Monster Kid spoke.

“It’s okay, Berdly! I think the teacher will be here soon and then class will start. That’s how it usually goes.”

“Do you have a pencil I can borrow?”

Kris tilted their head to see if Noelle would say anything.

“Sure! Here, umm, I have two!” Monster Kid said excitedly. The sound of stationary being fumbled around sounded louder than usual, given how silent everyone else was. Monster’s kid’s voice was muffled as their mouth navigated their bag. “Uhh, I thin- I haf- one.”

Noelle did not budge. Kris frowned. Monster Kid may not have been the most dextrous, given the predicament, but even the most desperate person would have thought twice about receiving a pencil that had probably been in Monster Kid’s mouth.

This time, it was Jockington who spoke up. “Yo, guys, uhhh” Jockington said loudly, “I think the teacher will probably have extra pencils and stuff. So like, let’s just all chill the hell out until she comes and then we’ll figure it out, right? Right?”

Berdly shrugged in neutral agreement. As he reached for his book again, he paused. “Hey, what’s your name?”

Monster Kid’s head poked out from behind the desk. “I told you, Berdly. It’s MK.”

“Oh no, I mean you.” Kris felt a tap on their shoulder. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

The confirmation was no less heavy than its realization. The class watched with a bated breath as Kris turned around to meet him. Their eyes were hungry, gaze clinging to Berdly as if damp, to absorb every bit of information from the encounter until all had been wiped away. Kris should have known better than to come to school today. Their demeanour had closed off over the week break, distant and foreign, freezing the words that would have been said had none of this ever happened to begin with. 

“Your name,” he repeated. His head lifted, almost hopefully.

Kris did not know what came over them, nor understood what compelled the next word to come from their mouth.

“Qris.”

There was something there, the barest sound, so quiet, only Berdly would hear. One word perfectly pronounced. It was their name, after all. Berdly did not have a chance to move before Kris reached into their pocket. Until now, Noelle had not bothered to make any indication of interest. Now, her eyes drifted a spot on Berdly’s desk, where Kris had placed a sheet of paper along with a pen.

Berdly frowned. “What’s this?”

“Attendance sheet. You said you needed a pen.” Kris’s expression was unreadable. “Write it for me.”

Berdly took one look at the cast around their arm.

“Here, I’ll –” Monster kid tried to interject, but Berdly had already begun to write.

When Ms. Alphys came through the door, a collective relief passed over the room. Suddenly, people began to talk again, and chatter that had been held back returned in the form of quick exchanges. Hands were raised before Ms. Alphys could even make it to her desk. As people shuffled their things across their desks, Kris could hear nothing but the pounding behind their ears. In that moment, all Kris could do was observe the tilt of Berdly’s hand as he wrote, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. Think about the imaginary, writhing mass was itself enough to transfix them through the chest. But, in that moment, it was Berdly’s word that could make Kris’s time stand still. Him and his word alone.

“Yo, Berdly,” said Monster kid, laughing. “Kris isn’t spelled with a Q.”

It wasn’t every day that Monster Kid could feel so relaxed around Berdly. It wasn’t like Berdly had many close friends in his circle, if it could even be called that. For the longest time, MK recalled that it was only ever Noelle who Berdly spoke evenly slightly nice about. However, in his current predicament, there was no longer a reason to feel afraid. There was nothing, no history, no timbre of disdain, nor pressure that made talking to Berdly hurt. He had asked someone other than Noelle for a pencil, and thus, hope and possibility began to flare in Monster Kid’s mind. It felt loud in the quiet of this new Berdly’s demeanour. Sitting in the middle of their class was a carefree and unwavering new boy, whose rough material had been softened to that of fleece, broken in, as one might say, like a pair of shoes with an all too sturdy pride.

“You sound like a lunatic, MK. You sound like you’re in love with him or something.”

At midday, the classroom had cleared out to go eat lunch outside. As soon as Berdly was out of ear’s reach, the debriefing began. Alphys had not made much of an announcement about the situation. She had gone the whole morning nervously looking over her shoulder, and making sure no one asked too many questions about the major change in the room. By lunch, all talk had ceased, and only Kris and Berdly had bothered to sit behind in silence while the rest slowly cleared the room.

“Yeah, what he said.” Catti muttered carelessly, typing everything MK was saying with utmost care anyway. She couldn’t stop the muscles on her face from pulling her mouth into a rare smile, albeit tight and reluctant all the way. The whole situation was a fever dream. “Jockington would know. Apparently, he and Berdly were like, friends for a little bit or something.” She snickered.

“Yo, that was ages ago. He stopped talking to me after he won the Spelling Bee, remember?”

“Literally why would I remember that…”

“Guys, you’re really not seeing the big picture here!” MK had not even taken a bite out of their sandwich yet. “He doesn’t remember anything! Do you know what that means?”

Catti rolled her eyes. “He’s probably dumb now. What, you want to be his friend now that he doesn’t remember Noelle? He’s not going to help you with your homework. He'll probably tank your grades if you befriend him now.”

Susie did not want to participate in this god forsaken conversation, but she was with Noelle, and she insisted on not staying behind in that classroom where Berdly was presumably eating. That, and there was only one picnic bench out in the courtyard that didn’t have black mould growing all over it. Granted, it was technically Susie’s fault. She and Kris poured milk on it, just last week.

Susie sighed. “Have some tact, MK. She’s sitting right here.”

“I’m just saying,” MK continued, addressing the lunch table as a whole. “We’ve got a real philosophical question on our hands!”

Noelle ate her food silently. She had not spoken much in class, and now, it was like she was not at the table at all, concealed behind Susie like she was her bodyguard. Deep down, Susie had a hunch that the inevitable reunion between Berdly and the rest of the school, if it happened at all, would go down horribly. Even with the other delusional theories that people had come forward with since the Spelling Bee, there was not a single doubt in Susie’s mind that Berdly would be hated upon his return. He’d been dethroned from his spot at the top of the class, with a show-stopping bang and a mountain of accused behaviours that Susie was all too accustomed to hearing. Never did she think this would happen. The whole point of the academically-inclined only-son of the town doctor was to be smart. If he was no longer that, then he was just annoying, and now, practically a stranger.

“You think… Berdly would hang out with us again?” Jockington grew contemplative, reminiscing. That seemed to make Catti uneasy.

“Well, no,” she said, putting her phone down. “Don’t you remember? He always says that he has better things to do. Or that the stuff we do is ‘trivial’ and ‘beneath him’.”

“But he doesn’t remember those things anymore. He was different back then. He's different now, too."

Everyone wanted to know the answers, but no one wanted to be the one to ask the questions. Everyone saw in them, a budding feat that Noelle could not accomplish, and that was make Berdly a friend that was actually pleasant to be around. Indeed, what if someone else had befriended Berdly all those years ago? What if he had joined a different crowd, done Track and Field instead of Debate, or competed in the Softball Regionals instead of the Spelling Bee?

“You don’t know that.” Noelle seemed to have taken that comment to heart. “He’s not feeling well, but he’ll get better. That’s all.”

“And what if he doesn’t?”

What if, Susie began to wonder, someone else had found him that day? At people’s lowest, did they just choose whatever was available to them? If that was the case, how much could one even call that a choice?

Susie tried to shake off that thought. She couldn’t seriously be entertaining the possibility that this was what Berdly was going to be like for all of eternity. After all, he was a friend of Noelle’s, which technically, in a roundabout, unintentional way, made him a friend of Susie’s by two degrees of separation. Realistically, what was wrong with the way Berdly used to be, anyway? That he was a bully? Not to the same extent that she was. And she had eventually… found ways away from it somehow. With the help of a friend.

Then, something really began to bother Susie. Jockington, of all people, had brought it up. Could it be that a person could only good as their friends were? Susie had only known Noelle for a little while and things had started to feel better already. That warm feeling of having someone by your side… it was… unbearable. It felt like something woven tightly with shame.

“Come on, guys. He’s going to be fine.” MK gulped. They did not expect this conversation to end up stirring this much trouble. “Can’t we just enjoy this innovation for a little while? The doctor said the hysteria wears off if you do some journalism.”

“That’s journalling, MK. And he doesn’t have hysteria. He has a serious problem!” Noelle's voice grew louder, each passing moment.

“Uh, yeah, he did. But not anymore.” Jockington rose from his seat, with more to say. He too, had begun to grow angry.

Noelle could not believe what she was hearing. “You like what’s happening to him?”

The atmosphere at the table had changed. Jockington, unexpectedly, had very strong opinions about it all. “Be real, Noelle. Did you even like hanging out with that dude? He was a major jerk most of the time.”

“You just don’t know him. And listen, I know what he is like – “

“Was. He’s different now. He’s nicer. You saw him in class. He looked horrible before but as soon as he forgot about – ”

“Berdly’s just confused, okay? He was clearly going through – “

“He never worked himself like this when we were kids. Back when I was still his friend. You know, before the Spelling Bee?” Jockington worked up a breath, his body heaving as he pushed the words out for all to hear. “But now that he’s forgotten everything, he seems to be – ”

“Don’t you dare say it.” Noelle’s hands dug into the wooden table until her knuckles were stiff. “You can’t possibly say he’s healthier like this when he’s obviously been injured. Badly.”

“I was going to say he looks happier now.”

"No, he doesn't."

“You didn’t see what he was like in that week you were gone.”

“I – I was…”

“Not here, that’s for sure. And if you believe what people have been saying…” Jockington trailed off, not wanting to speak it into existence, even if most were convinced it was truth already. “He turned to, you know. Other things. Maybe it’s for the best that he has no idea about whatever it was that was making him so miserable. Is it really bad to say that it’s better for everyone else too, that he’s no longer…”

“What, Jockington?”

“Miserable. He was miserable to be around, for basically the last five years.”

Noelle looked to Susie, but Susie had long become lost in thought. Those feelings she had been purposefully ignored for well over a week had come back. It had been too difficult to describe then, but now, it seemed that everything had taken on a new vocabulary. She had become nothing but questions. And when people were desperate, did they not just take whatever answer became available to them first? How much of a choice could that even be?

“Susie?” Noelle’s voice broke out from the chatter that had erupted at the table. “You look focused.”

“Just staring at the mold.”

Noelle peered over at the other table. “Yeah,” she agreed. The decay had almost taken over the other picnic bench, save for a few patches. “I’m surprised no one has noticed it yet.”

Kris did not return from lunch. Where they went, Susie had no clue. In class, a spectacle had formed of Berdly, and no one seemed to notice the class was one short. Possibly, Susie thought, this was exactly how things were in the class whenever she skipped school for the afternoon, but that was not something anyone else usually did. Unless they weren’t feeling well, of course.

“You’d have to check the shape, right?”

“T-that’s correct.” Alphys sounded genuinely surprised. “How… how did you know?”

Berdly, in all his unexplained mystery, was just as smart as before, despite not having his memories. He looked better than before, acting politely in public, and had the charm of someone who was distinctly not-Berdly. Snowy had begun to call him Weirdly when his head was turned, but Berdly caught him, and simply smiled. Susie had no idea what to make of the new Berdly. As much as she wanted to agree with Noelle, a part of her could not shake off the fact that from afar, Berdly thrived. This was quite possibly the only way for him to survive, now that he had a long list of reputational faults to make up for, before graduation. From the side of the room, Monster Kid’s eyes only grew wider each time Berdly knew something he somehow shouldn’t. The new Berdly had fans. The old Berdly had enemies.

Berdly flipped through the pages of his textbook, brand new. “It says here that the shape dictates the function. You can’t fold a chain of amino acids an infinite number of ways. Certain ones only connect to others if they have the right qualities, others repel. It’s inevitable that it takes on that fate. That’s why the sequence matters.”

Alphys beamed. Whatever she had been worried about had quickly been soothed over by the display. Enamoured by it as well, Jockington nudged at Catti’s chair from underneath the desk. He whispered something, but all Susie could see were the words forming around Catti’s mouth as she whispered back.

“Fine,” she said, but nothing about the way her face said she was particularly upset. “I’ll ask him.”

With what happened at lunch, Susie would have been furious if it had been her. But Catti did nothing more than roll her eyes whenever Jockington leaned forward to say something. It wasn't the friendship that bothered Susie. She was sure of it. There was probably something else that bothered her, she just hadn't figured it out yet.

Noelle turned to Catti. “I’ll ask him, if you don’t mind.”

Susie watched as Kris’s shadow crept over the gap in the door, sneaking into the classroom well past the hour. Approaching their seat quietly, it was as though a phantom had slipped through. They were slightly damp around the forehead, liek they had gone for a very long walk.

“There’s going to be a quiz on this next week. Let’s just review some old terms from last unit first.”

Berdly asked with all childlike innocence. “You’re back. Where did you go?”

“Hmm?” Alphys turned around, confused. She had not heard anyone come in. “Oh. Kris. Ummm, you’re late.”

In Kris, Berdly seemed to see something the others did not. Now that Berdly was no longer at the front of the class, Kris’s could only really be closely observed by him, How cruel was it, thought Susie, that at the front of the class, those two seemed to be bumping their heads forever.

Alphys pointed to a spot on the chalkboard. “Do you want to give it a try?”

Kris said nothing as they sat down. In the end, they would look over their shoulder out of habit, over and over again, expecting someone else to be behind them. And each time, a thin smile would be frozen on their lips, faltering as Berdly would lean over and ask if they needed something. There were only two more classes left. They had skipped nearly half of the lot, and still, the day stretched out punishingly long.

Alphys would do the same thing another two times before realizing that the Kris who had answered everything perfectly in the past few weeks no longer existed.

“Umm, alright. Does someone else want to give it a try?”

The thought of using trickery would never have occurred to Susie. No matter how she observed into her memory of Kris in the past, the possibility of something sinister had never presented itself, even if Susie knew now that it had not been the case. She just refused to believe it, even in recollection. However, now, when Berdly spoke, she recognized it. He had the same calm tone of voice, carefully selected from a pile by a strange criterion.

“Prion,” Berdly said without hesitation. “Causes protein misfolding.”

“That’s wonderful! That’s…” Alphys flipped through her own copy of the textbook. Berdly would not have been around that day when they had the lesson. “Where did you see that?”

Berdly shrugged. "I must have heard it from the doctor."

There it was, thought Susie. It was strange to hear Berdly speaking so lightly of the guy who must have been ripping out his feathers in frustration. From what Susie could gather, Berdly really didn't have a clue about anything. How was it possible that the best version of Berdly was the shell that had every vague character trait, and none of the substance that connected those features together? It was as though a new Berdly had emerged overnight, pre-written like a stock character from a book.

He twirled a pen in his hand before tapping it to Kris’s shoulder. “Here,” he said. “This was yours, remember?”

Kris looked at him expectantly. Berdly balanced the pen on the tip of his feather, tilting it back and forth.

“What, you’re not going to take it back?” There was a slight mockery in his voice, a musing sort that couldn’t possibly sound malicious, unless you believed it to be.

Oddly enough, Susie did not want him to give it back, whatever it was. She kept her head down, paying no attention to them as she took in every bit of their conversation that she could hear.

Kris hesitated. “I thought you didn’t have one.”

Slowly, Berdly reached forward and placed the pen in Kris’s hand. “I’ve got one already.”

Dear diary,

I’m writing this in a different place than usual. It’s a bit strange to address it to anyone else, so I am addressing it to you. I’ve been thinking about what the doctor said, about hysterics and gas leaks and all things mental health. Isn’t it so strange and beautiful that journalling helps to calm the mind? That having someone to talk to, even if they aren’t tangible, makes one feel less alone? It’s how I thought about it at first, when Berdly’s father came to me and said that journalling would help, and that I did not need to send him updates. He said it could just be a private exercise that I would do until I felt that I could adequately move on. Little did he know, I’ve kept more than a few journals like this in my life. I knew how to do it already; it just never occurred to me that journalling was something one did to feel… less lonely.

Yours truly,

Noelle

Dear Diary,

I had the opportunity to go visit the hospital after church. You see, I had been expecting a lot of commotion there, because of all the people who had been feeling varying bits of unwell. However, it seemed like I was not the only one who had been sent home with journalling homework. In one feel sweep, it was like the whole town had vacated the hospital, save for a few who were, according to Susie, actually hurt.

I tried to explain to her, that people could be hurt and not show it. All she gave me was this somber look that I had never seen on her before. I asked her if she came to visit my dad with me, and she agreed. Then, while I was grabbing him some snacks, I saw that she had gone to another room in the hospital. I checked later; it was empty. I guess whoever she had come to visit had already checked out.

I thought that was strange too. I didn’t tell Susie, but I was there to see someone else too, and yeah, I did not find him there.

Yours truly,

Noelle

Dear Diary,

Things are going great! While mom was busy at town hall dealing with some things, I saw Susie wandering around the hospital again, and she agreed to go on a date with me! Okay, I may not have called it a date, but we went to that baguette place over in the next city.

Did you know that Susie had never had a croissant before? I told her all about the baguette store, and how the owner used to run a pizza place before he eventually stepped down and moved here to be a pastry chef, of all things. She seemed surprised when I told her that the prices here were really great. Apparently ten dollars for a croissant is a rip off? I had no idea. Berdly and I used to come here all the time in the summer to gossip, even if Berdly insisted we call it social debriefing and refused to admit he liked to gossip more than literally anybody in town.

Though, in retrospect, I think maybe something about that date made Susie act different. We were there, eating, and she confessed to me that maybe this rich kid stuff (I still can’t believe she thinks Berdly and I are rich!?) just wasn’t for her. I told her that was wrong, of course. She didn’t have to worry about croissants. I’d buy her a hundred if she wanted.

And that’s when she said it. I still don’t know what to make of it. Susie told me, with a straight face, that she missed throwing rocks at garbage cans with Kris. In the old alley.

Just the mention of an alley makes me feel weird, even now. I asked her what she meant, of course, and Susie just ate the rest of her croissant in silence. I told her I get that feeling, and that I was certain that Kris would be fine. I didn’t say this next part, of course, but deep down, I kind of missed coming here. The croissants are good. And yet, I couldn’t help but feel guilty for enjoying myself.

During math class, a discovery had been made. It had been made near the end of the day, tongue-tips eager to spell out the answers before someone else could make them. The strongest proof of Berdly’s return to school, ironically, came with the utter indisputable evidence that perhaps it was only by people’s willful imagination that someone like him had changed at all.

It was a fountain pen, left on his desk by Noelle during the shuffle.

He had given it a brief test on the back of his hand, a gesture that seemed to make Kris wince from a seat away. He walked over to the garbage bin to discard it, and that’s when Noelle finally got up from her seat.

“Berdly, that pen’s yours.”

“… Is it?”

“Yeah,” she said. “You um, dropped it a while back. I just held onto it, for safekeeping, you know?”

“Oh, thanks.” he said, inspecting the object in his hand before dropping it in the bin anyway. “The ink’s dry. I appreciate it, though.”

Monster Kid, who had stopped paying attention to the board ago, peered over at his desk. Berdly stared at the scene with a tinge of irritation. “Do you need something?”

“You didn’t do your worksheet yet.”

Back his desk, Berdly reached into his bag and pulled out his book once more, ignoring the question.

Monster Kid spotted their opportunity, grin wide with glee. “You know, Berdly. Maybe I could help you with your homework!”

For the first time ever, they had that much over Berdly. Without his memories, Berdly had nothing to lord over the rest of them with. He could read from the textbook as much as he liked, but in his current state, he had no choice but to accept help. That, Monster Kid knew, meant that for once, Berdly had to admit that he was not better than the rest.

“I’m good.”

Monster Kid looked confused. “Oh yeah? What’s the answer to question twelve?”

Berdly did not so much as move his neck as he glanced over the top of his book and back down.

“See? You don’t know!”

“… Twenty-five.”

Monster Kid fell silent for a time. In Berdly’s hands, a soft golden sunlight fell across the pages of a book. This was a Berdly who, for the first time ever, did not look down on those around him. Unknowingly to Monster Kid, this was also a Berdly who did not look to others at all. His social diet had been carefully limited to that of books, studying, all the things that comprised the Berdly that people would recognize. He had all the grand displays of showmanship, and none of the motivation behind it. At last, Monster Kid realized what Noelle had been so upset about. There would be no wrestling, no banterful play as Berdly might’ve engaged with in the past. “Oh, look how he’s grown,” the adults may say. But things were not this different as people grew. They did not forget, overnight, the liberty and rowdiness that whittled a person down from an amorphous child-like surface into a recognizable person.

Fair is the knight who lieth slain

Amid the rush and reed.

The old Berdly had read that passage a hundred times, a quote by Oscar Wilde. Stiffly, and with no great enthusiasm, no demonstration of his pleasure of English language, Berdly turned the page. He skimmed over the next page, just as brisked as he did with the first.

What’s the matter? MK imagined Noelle saying, as she walked around the classroom. She was passing out the second batch of handouts, as the next class began. Surprised that the perfect cube of marble can’t be carved into the same thing twice?

Suddenly, from the corner of Monster Kid’s vision, Berdly winced. It was an inconspicuous movement. Monster Kid turned away, guilty, knowing that he likely just imagined it.

See the black ravens in the air,

Black, O black as the night are they.

Berdly lingered on that page, awaiting a reaction. For what, he could not figure out, but something had been there, albeit temporarily. After a minute of nothing, Berdly turned the page. He too, thought that he had likely just imagined it.

The evening air cut cleanly through the senses, enveloping him in soft chill. There had been news of a windstorm, but the predictions seemed to have missed their mark by a few towns over. Lucky for some, he thought, though inevitably, that meant others would be catching the brunt of nature’s whims.

“No need,” he said. Toriel had beckoned him in. “I am just here to see how you’ve been.”

“Well, now. It’s been quite a week for all of us. How about we catch up over tea?”

“If you insist.”

Berdly’s father observed the clouds through the open window, rays tracing down until they disappeared over the horizon. He had brought his evening jacket just in case, now draped over a chair in Dreemur’s kitchen. Here, the warmth of the room reminded him of his own.

“You know, there’s this saying; it’s always raining someplace else. Where, I have no clue. The quote, I mean.”

Toriel chuckled, setting down the kettle. “You’re alike, you know? You and Berdly. He must take after you. Spend a lot of time with him, at home?”

“Ahh,” he, said, lifting his cup. Steam curled in isometric twirls, lifting from the surface of the liquid. He considered a sip of his tea but felt that it was too soon. “I can’t recall.”

“Me neither.” The two sat in silence. “It’s better, now that they’re older.”

“Mhmm.”

“They don’t need me to jostle them around, fight, just to go to places.”

“Is that so?”

“You’re angry at me.”

Berdly’s father swirled around his cup, in idle consideration. “Angry sounds like a commitment. I suppose I am just tired, and a bit bored these days. I’ve got just enough of that old animosity for things to still come here. I wanted to make sure you’re not disappointed.”

“Disappointed?”

“I am a doctor, Tori. I am contractually obligated to care.” He took a sip of his drink. “I’m a creature of habit.”

“Are you now,” she sighed. Toriel placed her cup down onto the table with a hefty sigh. “Why does Kris do these things?” Her voice cracked. “I did not think that they would – Listen, don’t blame the child. I am their mother. I am so sorry – !”

“He doesn’t remember a thing.”

“You mean, he…”

Berdly’s father waited. “As you were saying?”

“Oh gosh. No, go on, I’ll listen.” She lifted her hand to brush something from her face, a bit of something caught in the crook of her nose, between the eyes. “It’s just, I don’t know how things got that far without anyone noticing. I had no idea. Your son…”

“Thinks that I’m letting him live in my house until his real parents come pick him up.”

Berdly’s father paused to think. He thought about the oddities of it all, how strange it was to be in the Dreemur’s kitchen at this hour, the odd conversation he was about to have.

“I’m so sorry to hear.” She cleared her throat and took a sip before speaking again. “I thought, with how fond he seemed of you, perhaps he remembered you. Maybe not as most amnesiacs do, but he would remember the love he felt, surely.”

“What love? He didn’t like to bother me much before. I shouldn’t be surprised that he seems to not require my input on anything now.”

“No? Nothing?”

Berdly’s father shrugged. “He just reads the books I give him. I told him to study. I didn’t really know what else to tell him, except what I would usually tell him. When I first noticed it, I referred him to a psychiatrist. She told me it was induced by some kind of head-related trauma, but I couldn’t find any signs of physical injury. Now, I know Kris – .”

“Oh, don’t speak of it. Please,” Toriel sighed. “Later?”

“Alright. I’ll press the issue later. Not now, at least.”

“Thank you.”

“Tori, this psychiatrist, I met with her before. Well, it was through this one patient and her father, back over in Lansville, when I worked as a family physician. He genuinely bothered me so much. I referred them over for, well, you don’t need to know about that. What you need to know is that he took his daughter off of ADHD medication because, and I quote, it made her boring. The worst thing is, Tori, I sympathize with him now. I know exactly what he meant, even though the circumstances are wildly incomparable. Now, every time I hear my own son talking to me like I am a stakeholder for his personal business, I don’t just think of that bothersome man and his daughter. I understand it.”

“Oh dear, that is – Well, what did you say to him? Or, the psychiatrist, I mean?”

“She told me to approach things carefully. I did find one injury. His soul, Toriel, there’s scarring there. Lots of it. He’s not exactly in a stable condition. It will be years before he can resume any extreme stress, not that I suggest anyone seek out stress, but you know what I mean.”

“Yes, of course.”

“And I still remember. The last thing I ever said to him. It’s the last thing he ever said to me too, technically. I was searching through my work email when I saw it. Just a few short lines from him, and a lengthy note from me. It’s comical how things fall into place so predictably. We’ve been doing this for so long. Now, while my son breathes and walks, and goes to school like it’s nothing, I can’t help but wonder if the last living piece of him is just going to be this email thread. A digital remnant, forever encased behind a two-factor authentication that my phone insists I endure each time I want to visit it.”

“…”

“I can’t tell him who I am, Toriel. He has to find out on his own, assuming he even wishes to know. The psychiatrist – she…” Berdly’s father set down his cup. “She said that whatever the source of it all was, it was highly probable that no matter what program we send him to, reminders of the past would be traumatizing for him. Everything reminds us of everything, she said. They had a program list for troubled teenagers. Oh, Toriel, you don’t even know…”

“We can discuss something else.” She reached for his hand, not sure of what to say. It was not her child, after all.

“I didn’t know they had so many different rehabilitation programs. The worst part is, Tori, I have no clue which one he needs. I genuinely have no idea what happened to him to get him like this. I’m already a shitty father. I can’t be a shitty doctor too.”

“Then there’s your answer, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“You can’t be both. That, or you just have to admit that we don’t get to choose how our children will end up. That’s for them to decide. At best, we can… well…”

Berdly’s father smiled for the first time during their whole conversation. “See, I knew you were the right person to talk to. What conclusion are you going to give?”

“What conclusion did you think I was heading towards?”

“That we have nothing to do with how our children turn out. That you had zero involvement. That your child didn’t drive mine to attempt – .”

“Stop. Just – I know what Kris told the officer.” Toriel could not stop herself from revealing her distraught anymore. Her hand trembled as she pulled back and placed it back onto her cup. “You know. I – I think I am going to be quite angry when they come home. I can’t believe the words that came out of their mouth. Did you hear the recording?”

“Oh no, that’s confidential. Or it’s Protected A, I assume. One of the two. I just know that they just debriefed me via text.” Berdly’s father rolled his eyes. “I forgot they took on my old receptionist after I let them go. Go figure.”

“I received the news just after lunch…”

“Oh, surprising.” He sounded satisfied. “They did tell me first, then. Good to know. Perhaps that does make me feel a little better.”

“You aren’t going to be angry over this?”

“Oh Tori, I am true to my word. I came here to make sure of one thing.”

“And that is?”

Berdly’s father had no doubt of what he was about to say next. Ten minutes ago, he had no doubt of Toriel’s incapability to accept it. Surely, she’d be shaking in shame, expecting Kris to follow in her example. He assumed that there’d be no suspicion around town of what happened once the truth came out. That convalescence which defined the rest of his son’s school days in this town would be enough to ruin the Dreemurs. A full recovery of his son would have given him a permanent feeling of relief, of course, but he knew that it would be impossible. Forgiveness was not on the table, but maybe a fresh perspective on the situation would have to do. It would have to give them all a way out of those inescapable grim feelings.

“Right now, Kris remembers you. A broken arm will heal. Some things don’t. I’m taking each day as it presents itself. In no time, our kids will leave this town. My son already doesn’t need my help, going to school, finding things to do, the whole lot of it. It’s been going on for quite a long time now, and I just hadn’t realized it. Tori…” he held her hand earnestly. “I’d rather my child be alive than dead. Sometimes, the cost of that reality is acknowledging that they will be as horrible as people can be, and that might just be all we have.”

“How can you say that? How can you just forgive Kris for what they did?”

“Of course I don’t. I’m telling you, one single parent to another, that no amount of theoretical love will make a person want to change. All we can do is be there waiting, so that if they slip through the cracks, it will be us who find them, and not something worse.” Berdly’s father sighed, leaning back into his chair. “What I wouldn’t give to just make him act normal again.”

Offering up everyone in the building except himself. He blinked.

Toriel took a moment to collect herself. “I suppose you’re right.”

Berdly’s father finished the rest of his tea. Setting his cup down for the last time, he confessed one last bit of information.

“I just thought you should know.”

“Wait. You’re telling me – “

“I’ve already begun the paperwork. My mind’s set.”

“Oh, you cannot be serious. Then who – ?”

“Haven’t decided that part yet. It’s all a work in progress, but she’s a gem. She’ll do quite fine. Besides, I’m the director of a hospital with only two beds, Tori. It’s a clinic, we’ll all be fine.” Berdly’s father picked up his jacket from the chair. “Thank you for the tea, as always. We should do this again.”

“Your schedule sounds like it will be quite nice to you soon.”

“One can certainly hope. Take care, Tori.”

“Our bones ache only while the flesh is on them.” Berdly ran a lazy finger across the edge of the page. As he spoke, his voice seemed to drift away from a spot beyond his mouth, wandering through the tangle of words. “It serves to ache the bone and to move it about.”

It was an hour after the last bell rang. He had been meaning to head home, until the teacher asked him to stay. To help you along your first day, she claimed.

I don’t need help.

Well, stay anyway. The doctor may be busy, you know.

That, Berdly believed. He could leave the school on a whim to finish the rest of his reading somewhere else, but still, he thought twice about returning to the doctor’s residence before him. It felt strange to be in that house without the owner present, like being in another’s clothes.

“Can you name what you liked about the book you chose?”

He did not care for the context, the story, nor the words. It simply felt regular to brush across each leaflet of paper, hearing the friction between his feathertips and the sheets. Yet, there were words that he lingered over for some time, phrases that his finger did not press over as he lifted each page.

“I liked the prose,” he said.

In truth, there was nothing about the prose that Berdly particularly liked. He did not choose it either. The truth was that the doctor had passed it to him while they were at the library, in search for the appropriate schoolbooks. The doctor had no idea what he’d need, so they asked the woman at the counter about it.

The librarian was a nice old lady, with a hefty set of arms and a kind voice that she used whenever she spoke to Berdly. It didn’t stop her from giving the doctor a nasty look whenever he turned to look at something. Perhaps, Berdly thought, he had unreturned books. Or maybe he was a slow reader and that was what bothered her. In retrospect, Berdly suspected that it was because the doctor seemed to know nothing about schoolbooks and the sort, and that had raised her eyebrows a few times. In his defence, Berdly thought, it wasn’t the doctor’s job to know. He had done plenty already, showing Berdly around town, letting him eat at his dinner table, and borrow his things as Berdly waited to get better.

“Let me ask the question another way. This report is about the themes of the book you choose. Was there something you liked there?”

“I liked the way the words all fall into place. That’s what prose is, isn’t it?” Berdly considered the question for a moment. “Maybe I liked the characters too.”

The teacher was patient. Apparently, Berdly had spent most of the school day running through his stack of books instead of paying attention in class.

I answered everything correctly.

That was not the issue, apparently.

“The characters are my favourite too. Sure, it was controversial back in the day, to write about such people, but the times eventually came around to welcome them. They usually do.”

“You know this book?”

“Yes, I borrowed it from the library. It’s the only copy around.”

Berdly inspected the book, eyes travelled around the spine. Nightwood, it read on the cover. Djuna Barnes. “Well,” he said jokingly, “they should toss this one and get a fresh copy.”

“Ahh,” the teacher’s smile faltered. The brevity of his statement concealed little of the casualty with which he said it.

“It’s torn up,” he explained, backpedalling as soon as he saw how the teacher’s face had changed. “It’s probably better to get one that’s not about to fall apart.”

“Well, I suppose they could do that. But you would be losing this, see?” She gently lifted the book from Berdly’s hands and turned to back of the cover. There, was a haphazardly stamped table, filled with names of people who had known that book, a written record of all those who had taken the time to read it. Near the bottom of the list was an entry dated not too long ago.

“Alphys,” he said slowly, getting used to the cadence of the word. “Al-phys.”

That was her name. Ms. Alphys. The teacher had not picked up her pen the entire time. No gradebook was in sight, and the rest of the class had gone home an hour ago.

“Do you know what that is?” She asked.

“…”

Alphys handed him back the book. “Take good care of it,” she said softly. “It might have through a lot, but it’s still a good book.”

Berdly shuffled in his chair. “You asked me  - about the book, I mean. For the report…”

“Yes?”

“I – I don’t know.” The words felt foreign on his tongue, like he did not say it often. There was a tightness in his chest. A tightness around his beak too, that made it hard to speak. “I suppose there was one nice thing about this book.”

“And what is that, Berdly?”

“It’s not… well, most of the book is not even about this. I mean, it’s not exactly an important thing in the plot,” he said, attempting to dodge the subject. He felt strangely tense, and relaxed at the same time, a paradoxical feeling that gave way to something familiar. “You asked about major themes.”

“Well, it can be anything. Just because something isn’t part of the main plot doesn’t mean it isn’t important. What was it that you paid attention to? Something that resonated with you?”

“…”

“Take your time.”

“I just… I liked that Robin found her way home in the end.”

By sundown, the air had thickened. Laying over the forest was a sweep of darkness, dense with laughter. Catti and Jockington were the first to arrive, Temmie and Snowy next. Susie walked over to the spot where he had begun setting down twigs into a rocky pit. It was the shallow kind of smores pit that would fill up quickly with dirt again, given enough time.

“Hey-o, Susie, I thought Noelle said she was coming.”

“Yeah, she said she’s coming.”

Susie had never expected to be invited. The sudden spring break had caught everyone by surprise, but Susie the greatest. The whiplash of Friday evening combined with the sudden radio silence had left her dazed, all too aware that a week of socializing would go by without her. Yet, by just the slightest association to Noelle, Susie’s school days had begun to take a turn for the better. It was an unusual occurrence. Strangely nostalgic too. Susie remembered the adrenaline of a new friend, and the excitement that followed. Though, as Susie dwelled on it a little more, she began to remember the concern, the worry, and the shame that came soon after. Making friends, she thought, was just not for people like her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Susie turned to face Snowy. He had been scowling for some time. “Seriously dude, what do you want?” Susie flashed a row of teeth for old times’ sake. “You know I hate it when people take forever to get to the point.”

He sat there awkwardly as the first lick of flames curled around the short twig in his hand.

“You got to fan it,” she said. “Here.” She pulled out a stack of old newspapers from her bag. Technically, they had all agreed to bring snacks, but Susie had none at her place. The papers were better, in her opinion. Those idiots could not make a fire to save their own lives.

A smile snuck up Susie’s face. It rounded her chin until her eyes crinkled around the edges.

The lot of them here was a funny sight. She couldn’t imagine any of them being the kind to rough it out in the wilderness, eating food they picked off the ground, or had won in a fight. She couldn’t imagine any of them actually venturing out and doing something like this. It was quite different from nibbing at ten-dollar biscuits from a glorified tea shop. This was almost a Susie-level hangout. Listening to the forest, finding wild animals maybe, and poking them around with a big stick.

Her smile retracted as quickly as it came.

“Here, you do it.” Susie tossed her fire-tending stick over to Snowy, who yelped as the weight hit him. “Don’t be lame, dude. Wield it like you mean it!”

Susie had picked a cool green-looking one, with sharp stubs and a bit of moss crawling from the branch’s armpits. The usual vibe was not there, with Snowy struggling to pick up the stick.

“Did Noelle not come because she’s waiting for someone?” Snowy asked, before giving up on the fire.

Susie huffed. “What, you want me to call her?”

Nearby, Jockington seemed shocked. “I thought she was your girlfriend.”

“Huh?”

“You two are always hanging out, dude. How do you not know where she is?”

“Whoa, hold on.” Susie stumbled back. “Does that mean you guys thought that this whole time, Kris and I were – ” She choked on her own tongue.

“Who said anything about Kris?” Catti rolled her eyes. “He’s just saying Noelle’s maybe got a thing for you, you know.”

“I just can’t get take it anymore!” Shouted Snowy angrily. “Is MK seriously not coming? Ugh, we spent the whole break looking for a cool spot, and now MK’s probably off trying to impress Weirdly with some new stupid scheme.” Snowy pouted. “Now this is a real joke.”

Susie groaned. “Ugh, enough about Berdly, already. And man, forget MK. Friends who’d drop you like that are just the worst. They’re… well…”

“You’re right, Susie.”

“I am?”

“Yeah. MK is probably off hanging out with their new friends. They’re probably just like Berdly now. It’s so stupid. Like, I know how much that dumb Spelling Bee mattered to them, but like, who are we kidding? We get B’s and C’s. I don’t know why MK thinks they’re just too cool to hang with us anymore. And it’s like – !”

“Come on, Snowy. Give MK a break.” Jockington wrapped his tail around a bag of marshmallows and passed it over to Catti. “It’s not like this happens everyday.”

“What? Dude, weren’t you like, the MOST mad about this at lunch today?”

Jockington reached for another bag. “I mean, I’m sure Noelle is probably still mad about it. But me? Not so much. I think I got it out of my system.”

Susie grabbed the stick off of Snowy’s lap and begun poking and prodding at the fire again. She watched the way the two of them worked together. Catti, wiping off the skewers, and Jockington opening the bags.

“What were you so mad about anyway?” Susie asked. “I don’t get it, honestly. So what if Berdly used to be cool, like, a billion years ago when you were kids?”

I wasn’t around, then. That part, she left unsaid.

“Well, I just miss him sometimes. I mean, obviously I’ve got a ton of cool stuff to do now. But still, don’t you ever just feel kinda bad?”

“For him?”

“Yeah. I’ve got a bunch of friends, dude. But Berdly? Come on. If we’re all going to be totally honest right now, that guy only has like, one friend at a time.”

“…”

“And I mean, I was just thinking about it over the break and stuff. After Ms. Alphys handed back those chemistry tests, I found out I totally bombed it. I was so mad about it, I went around complaining about it everywhere, but then, I didn’t feel as bad about it anymore. I stopped being totally nuts about it, at least. It’s just like those letters that the doctor made everyone write. It feels kinda better when you let all of it out, even if it’s to something totally random, like a journal. And I know Berdly always seems to get what he wants, because he’s always telling everyone about it. But don’t you ever wonder if maybe in that week that Noelle was gone, something bad did actually happen to him? I mean, the dude went to the hospital for something and he started acting weird as soon as he got back. If he needed to go blow off some steam or vent about it, where would he have even gone?”

“What are you saying?”

Jockington curled his tail nervously, thinking about what to say.

“Hey, man. Look, I know what you’re thinking, but I’m sure it wasn’t that.” Catti looked pensive.

“But no one knows, right? Not even him anymore, in his current state.”

Susie frowned. “What, did Berdly do something?”

Jockington looked at her with all seriousness. “You mean tried to.”

“Oh.” Susie felt a weight sink to the bottom of her stomach.

One by one, the events of her last adventure came to her, circling details, recollection flickering between the Dark World and here. There was a living pattern in all their interactions with Berdly, short snips as one prunes a pesky houseplant, slowing depriving it of its leaves. Susie could not pretend to be disinterested. Jockington must have known the same thing; they had all taken part in the Spelling Bee. The crowd had clapped and jeered, Susie found out, when Berdly lost. Jockington’s gaze, which had been following Susie this entire time, painted a very different picture in Susie’s mind now. They had invited her, not out of a desire for friendship, but out of communal guilt.

Beside Susie was the last empty space. She was aware that there would not be enough seats for everyone in the class. Behind the guilt, a worry began to grow.

“Has anyone seen Kris after math?”

“I don’t know.” A voice appeared behind them. Susie had been so preoccupied with her thoughts, she had not heard the footsteps grow until they were right there.

Monster Kid stood with a bag of crackers. That surprised Susie.

“You’re late!” Snowy scolded. He did not seem as upset anymore. “I’m glad you made it though.”

MK shifted on their foot, their head tilted like a curious child. “What were you guys talking about?”

Snowy played with his feeble, sorry excuse of a stick, pushing some rocks towards the fire. “Nothing, just talking about Berdly.”

At that news, MK’s spirits seemed to fall.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Jockington. “He’s always been like that.”

Beside him, Catti just chuckled. “Yeah,” she said. “What, did he brush you off again?”

“W-what, no! I was just at home. I got a bit lost in the forest.”

Catti burst into laughter. “Weren’t you and Snowy here like, five times last week to clear out all the leaves?”

MK was bewildered, face turning red with embarrassment. “Well, it’s a lot harder to find your way back when you’re all by yourself!”

Susie dug a nail into the palm of her hand, fidgeting. Come on. Come on, you’re there. She pulled her knees in close and listened to the sounds of the forest. Everything reminded Susie of everything. It had been dark too, when it all went down.

“Besides, it’s dark out. I almost tripped on something and fell face first into a ditch. Stop laughing Snowy!”

Nearby, a set of footsteps was approaching. Susie peered over her shoulder, expectantly, hoping to see a confirmation of a face. Nothing. She could’ve sworn she heard someone, or something.

The rest of the group began to hand out crackers. The sound of cracking wheat was quickly snuffed out by the whip of flame. Out of habit, Susie gripped the stick harder, unable to let go. Another cracker was split. Then another.

“What’s not fun?” Monster Kid asked. They sat right next to Susie, the only spot that had been left empty.

In the dim light, Susie saw their easy expression, the relaxed slouch of their shoulders.

“Stop doing that with the crackers.”

She could not get the sound of bones out of her ears. She couldn’t bring herself to name the sound that they made, when they –

“Give me that, MK!” Beneath Susie’s anger, there was another face.

“Susie, are you alright?”

Her head whipped around. She had not imagined it. There were two sets of footsteps. Her dark-shrouded face had a vividness to it, a familiarity that at one point in time, could make Susie feel less afraid in those strange places. Time after time, Susie saw that face, sometimes twisted in agony, as a pool of crimson leaked from underneath, spilling over the old classroom’s toy carpet.

“Noelle. You came.”

She smiled. “Of course.”

Susie had learned, during their croissant trip out of town, that Noelle could be full of mischief at times, full of boundless joy, and other times, deep and mourning, full of regret. I’d never leave a friend behind again, she swore. He tongue had loosened over the week, beginning to tell her stories, one by one. First, Susie heard of her family, then bits of the past with her sister. Finally, it had been about Berdly: the Spelling Bee, the years gone by, the anger, and eventual shame over what had happened to him. Susie nodded at the time, saying nothing more. Out of sight, she thought, out of mind.

“Yo! We were wondering where you went,” said Jockington. “You were gone for a while. We thought maybe you got stuck in that same ditch that Snowy almost fell in.”

Noelle was covered in bits of paper, stuck to her hair and sweater with static. She leaned her back next to a tree and crossed her arms. “I had to wait until my mom left the house.” Noelle turned to Susie and winked. “I possibly left through the window.” She dug a hand into her pocket and brought out a pen. “I had to dig forever to find this.”

Catti made a face of disgust. “You dug through the garbage.”

“No!” Noelle was appalled. “It was in the recycling, the paper one, so we’re all clear!”

Susie wanted to smile. She wanted to laugh and joke about Noelle escaping through her window and digging through alley bins. At first, she felt the corners of her mouth lift again, but after, they just could not budge any more.

“You actually got it back.”

Noelle shoved the pen back into her pocket for safekeeping. “I just couldn’t let him toss it like that. I mean, fair enough, I should’ve put a note next to it, saying it needed to be filled with, you know, ink.”

Susie couldn’t make sense of all that happened. The Chaos King could knock a legion of people down with one sweep. The clown from the cellar could make the whole world disappear, momentarily. But Susie could not rid herself of that one, irrational worry.

“I still can’t believe you went through the trouble of getting that thing,” Catti said with an air of bewilderment.

“He’ll want it back someday. I know it.”

“Yeah… someday.”

“I know it, Catti. He’s still in there somewhere. Even if he never, you know. Goes back to how he used to be. I’ll still keep it around, just in case. I’m sure the pen appreciates it at least, that someone’s still looking out for it.”

“Did you uh, talk to anyone while you were there?” Susie interrupted. Her voice trailed off near the end.

“No.”

“Wait, what?”

Noelle shrugged. “He must have gone home, already. Or maybe I was too slow. Though, I did see Kris, I think.”

Susie’s face was tense. “At the school?”

There was a moment of silence, all across the campfire. “I’m not sure. I think maybe they were waiting for someone but left as soon as I came by.”

“Here, you can sit in my spot.” Susie got up and stepped over the dry log in a sudden motion that made Snowy drop his cracker on the ground. Noelle made an attempt to stop her, but Susie was faster. “I have to go do something. Just take it.”

“Wait, Susie! Are you coming back?”

Susie closed her eyes and breathed in the evening atmosphere. The shade of trees had obscured the sky above, but she could feel the air cooling. It was approaching dark soon, and soon, it would be impossible to find each other again.

Noelle understood. With a knowing nod, she stepped back. “Just text me when you get home. Both of you,” she added.

Susie smiled back at her, that warm feeling returning to her arms and legs, her chest, and eventually, the base of her throat.

The first day of school was always the most difficult. There was that heavy feeling that came with the slow realization of one's isolation, when you had to decide in five minutes whether you would skip school entirely or just deal with the onslaught of shame. One could switch schools for their entire formative years, switching friends, switching houses, switching people. Those that didn't know it would still try to convince you that one more attempt at making friends would have stuck the landing. It was Susie's best friend, too, which made the endeavour all the more worthwhile. For the first time in over a week, Susie had finally made up her mind.