Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A moment suspended in eternal frozen clarity and yet rushing past with the speed of time itself

The past the present the future all at once in order out of order beyond order beyond chaos beyond ravens and names and lives

Images upon images upon images of everything slipping away from a grasp that no longer exists in the void that lurks in the boundary between worlds so far away from everything important and yet where everything of importance must be will be shall be can’t be won’t be mustn’t be

-/-/ A field arrayed for battle with two armies about to fight and yet it will not be they who define the battle for their might is naught before the might of magic wielded by those who understand and who were made to understand /-/-

-/-/ A monstrous shape eternally shifting and yet never changing not unlike HER as SHE drifts between the boundary of worlds stalking it and the rest of its kin hunting them down without remorse for the hatred of what they did to HER and to HIM /-/-

Existence recedes and approaches like the tide borne by the moon if the moon were reality itself feeling nothing then everything all emotion is here and there and gone again leaving nothing but the pain until once again the waves crash upon the shores of ontology

A thought that thinks itself cannot change unless acted on by an outside force but there is no outside force here nothing except the past the present the future and all at once none exist until they always did until SHE did

-/-/ A man alone recurs forever and forever in the times that swiftly pass by and disappear like grains of sand drifting through a hand drawn up from the desert of understanding the incomprehensible gap between HER and everyone SHE had loved /-/-

The changes grow faster quicker more apart more together but stay the same but do not change without existence change has no meaning can a single moment change if there is no time in which change can happen

ITHURTSFOREVER a feeling that does not fade except in memory the face so like another that repeats and repeats and repeats and repeats but only once and never again NEVEREVERAGAIN

Shards of understanding ablate shred rend themselves to nothing to everything remaking what they ruin ruining what they make coming together into a whole beyond the parts that made it up and yet fitting together exactly as if they were made to be that way the way that they were never meant to be and always fated to become until they fly apart and form new patterns within patterns within chaos within patterns again

-/-/ A raven flies soaring over a slumbering drake’s egg until it is shot down and a fox takes its place splits splits again again and again and again until finally one leaps in the air and takes flight hunting the hunter as the STORM that was always there grows louder and closer until lightning strikes and the world crumbles around them /-/-

-/-/ A moment of resolution and resolve to solve the problems of the world yet forgotten in the tempest of emotion and the yawning abyss of time since a promise was first made and first broken remade at the end of all things and strengthened by a final act of apocalypse /-/-

-/-/ A man the man repeated forever and ever sitting alone crying on a bench when SHE finds him and sits beside him gathering HER arm around him and doing nothing else except existing alongside for as long as necessary and as long as possible leaving only a fractured moment recurring forever in all the shards of memory like a raven sweeping through obscuring clouds/-/-

MEMORY that fades like smoke in the wind blowing beyond time and counting to a place not unlike this un-place where nothing is except for that which defines for itself the quiddity of its own existence through the scattered fragments of past and present and future existing all at once alongside each other culminating in that which always was and is about to come into being

And at a time indiscernible except by that which happened at it the last breath of one existence ended -/-/ “Goodbye.” /-/- another begins signified only by a silent flash of coalescence when the quiddity pulls every shard of what was and what would be together

-/-/ A flash. And then, silence. Peace.

“Uhn… What…? Where…? Who…?”

And suddenly, she knew the answer.

“...”

An answer, at least.

Several centuries ago I was an immortal who would come to be known by many names…

Chapter Text

“I know that’s not what you might have been hoping for, but it’s the best I can do.” She took a moment to think, difficult as that was in the middle of the process, and had a thought. “Although, there was this other time…”

---

“I think we’re talking at cross-purposes here. This is a serious problem, and I’m not certain you get why.”

Edward Verres was an imposing figure, even without wielding an awesome level of power to ensure that the masquerade was upheld. He’d been able to stare down gods and alien armies without blinking. Of course, those paled in comparison to dealing with a single troublesome teenager who refused to accept his authority - quite possibly the most powerful force in the universe, at times.

“Look, I know exactly why it’s a serious problem! Not for the reason you think it is!”

Hope glared defiantly across the table. And equally to her side; Adrian wasn’t exactly taking Edward’s side, but he certainly wasn’t taking hers, either.

“Hope. I know it didn’t work out like you’d thought it would, but can you at least try to see things from his point of view?”

Case in point. He’d been so proud when she showed off her first ever artifact to him. Where was that pride now? Why wasn’t he helping??

“Shove it! I didn’t make it to sneak around, I made it because it was fun to make! So what if there’s problematic use-cases? EVERYTHING has problematic use-cases! You don’t see him taking Tedd’s gun, do you?!”

Edward was not fazed.

“Be that as it may, we are not here to discuss that. This meeting - which, may I remind you, is informal and off-the-record - is about you and your creation of an artifact to-”

“It has a name,” Hope interjected sulkily.

“Okay. Your ‘Somebody-Else’s-Problem Device’, if you insist. Can you turn it off?”

“...Well, not right now, but-”

“Can you disable it?”

“I mean, give me a week or two to figure out how, and I probably-”

“Can you get around its effects somehow?”

“I’m working on it!” Hope could nearly scream with how circular this conversation was getting. “What’s the big deal, anyway? It’s not like anyone’s going to see it. That’s its entire point!”

“He saw you, holding it and walking through the front door of his house.” Adrian replied, holding up something that Hope couldn’t quite focus on. “That’s why we’re here, you know. That, and the mysterious disappearance of all my left shoes.”

Hope snorted, against her better judgment. “I can assure you that’s unrelated.”

“And how, precisely, would you know that?” Adrian’s piercing gaze struck far deeper than Edward’s had.

“L-look, that doesn’t matter. Um, Mr. Verres, what was it you said you wanted me to do?”

“Three things. First, show me how to operate your ‘Device’, which includes how to turn it on and off. If it can’t do that, then modify it so that it can. Second, I would like to take it with me, for safekeeping. Third, don’t make another one of these without my express permission to do so.” He tallied these three conditions off on his fingers as he listed them.

“And then I’m free to go?” Her voice was hopeful. They weren’t really terribly restrictive conditions, all things considered.

“I’ll make sure your name isn’t attached to the paperwork I’ll have to fill out. Though I may ask for your help at some other point.” Though she couldn’t see his eyes through those mysterious glasses of his, Hope nevertheless felt Edward’s gaze tighten on her.

Adrian nudged her shoulder gently, and whispered into her ear. “You’re probably not going to get a better deal.”

Hope shrugged him off her shoulder, but regretted just how true his words rang. How true they always rang. It was still the best way out of this mess she’d heard so far. Unfortunately.

After a long pause, she took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “Okay,” she conceded. “Deal.”

---

“So thaaat’s where that came from…” he mused, as they continued. “Any further things that might help?”

“Well…”

Chapter Text

“...There’s something I was told. Now that I think about it, she wanted me to pass it on. Not to you specifically, but I think it would help you understand.”

—

“I’m sorry I have to talk to you this way; it is an odd way to communicate. So… asynchronous. But I can’t afford to dally in preparing this message - time is my enemy, now more than ever.

I don’t know where you are, or what you’re doing, now. I can’t know. But - I miss you. I miss the days when we would sit on grassy hills and look at the clouds. I miss afternoon teatimes where we would say nothing and mean everything. I miss seeing your adventurous spirit and your tenacity win when the odds were against you a thousand times over. I miss you.

I should have… done better. Been better. But I just… pushed you away, wanting you to grow to be like me. Indifferent. I should have known that you wouldn’t want that. I always loved you. I’m just sorry that my actions made it all too clear how arrogant I was. How… indifferent I was, at times, to you. To how you felt.

I spent a while thinking this over. Taking care. I’m not going to come back. But this is who I become. Maybe you’ll be able to see some similarities. The only one I know for sure is that she’ll still love you, just as I do. Maybe she’ll be less indifferent to the world. That’s not too much to ask, right?

…There’s so much that I want to say to you. But it’s possible I may not be able to. So if I can’t, she’ll have to say some of it instead. And for that I’m sorry. To both of you. I’m sorry, me, to have to put you in this position. And I’m sorry, Adrian, that I couldn’t say this in person. I’m sorry for everything.

I love you, truly and forever. I just wish there had been more time.

Goodbye.”

Chapter Text

She wasn’t lonely. Or so she insisted to herself.

Not that she’d ever really said anything to anyone about it. Or had anyone to speak to. Or even knew anyone she could have spoken to in the first place. Those were things for mortals. Or for those who weren’t more comfortable simply… observing. Those unlike her.

Or so she insisted to herself.

It was a relatively warm evening for this early in the spring, the perfect sort of time to begin to enjoy the outdoors. To wander around the park, if that was your cup of tea. And, indeed, she was out and about, walking the dimmer and less-well-traveled paths. Casually dodging all those who were out less permanently. Who had places to be, places they could be.

Although, that said, she did take a surprising amount of time at the intersections to decide which way to go, given that she didn’t have a destination in mind, or for that matter even a journey.

Normally, she’d have been deep in thought while walking (although she wasn’t quite sure she knew how she was so certain of this; she hadn’t yet taken many such walks). Today, however, there wasn’t really anything to contemplate except the world itself. The world which, due to her abilities, mostly passed her by. The ability and habit to deflect any attention was a blessing, ultimately.

Or so she insisted to herself.

Of course, perception magic worked differently on animals from how it worked on people. Probably something to do with how they perceived the world differently. Take for example the stray cats in her vicinity; they normally stayed away from humans, yet somewhat had clustered around her, able to sense her presence but not enough to be scared. This wasn’t too much of a concern, given that they mostly stayed in the bushes at the side of the path.

Of course, there is a great and calamitous gap between ‘mostly’ and ‘wholly’. Here, that difference manifested itself in a young kitten, wandering erratically down the path, mewling for its mother until its path crossed hers.

She’d always had some kind of fondness for cats, though she wasn’t entirely certain why. Something Pandora had left for her? Simply the way things were? Could be anything. Yet… this kitten, among the rest, caught her eye. A certain kinship she and it shared, perhaps, that neither knew quite where to go. Whatever it was, she stopped and knelt by the side of the road, just a little bit out of the way. Gently guiding it into her hands, she took a moment to feel around, to throw her senses just a little bit to the left and right, to see whether any of the cats seemed distressed by not knowing where their child was.

Nothing.

Seeing this, she fluffed up her shirt just a little bit against the slight chill of the air, and gently curled the kitten up against her, sharing her warmth with the cat that could not make its own. And she continued on her way, though this time more cautiously. More attentively. Until she saw what she’d feared she might - a van with giant lettering, spelling out Moperville Ferals Evaluation and Response Service.

Walking away with a heavy heart she considered her options. She could not keep a kitten if she didn’t have a place for herself. She could not help it herself. But… there were those who could, maybe. Adrian would know what to do with it. It was the best thing she could do, under the circumstances.

Or so she insisted to herself.

Though, as she began the careful journey to his house, she found that she did have something to think about. Was there a cat that she could do something to help? If only to make herself feel better about this one, at least. She cast her mind far and wide thinking of ways that she could do something meaningful. And in the end, she found one, and only one, way that things might well work out: Catalina Bobcat.

---

“In the end, that would have been a good idea if things hadn’t gone so wrong.”

“Or so you insist to yourself,” Tedd responded dryly, and pressed a button on the watch he’d just put on. Suddenly the room got… further away, somehow? “Ask permission next time, okay?” Then he released it, and the room snapped back to normal as he scratched a note on the clipboard next to him. “In any case - I suppose that might be useful. Why don’t you tell me more about the ethereal plane? That’ll definitely help.”

Chapter Text

“Well, while we’re stuck out here I suppose I should ask if you happen to know what happened to all my left shoes.”

“I don’t know anything about that! Really!”

“All of my left shoes go missing, when no one else was around, and you don’t know what happened to them?”

“Maybe it was shoe fairies!”

“Shoe fairies.”

“Uh, yeah! They take your shoes and leave behind a dollar under your pillow or something like that.”

For some reason, that didn’t seem to convince him. Noah, too, was looking at her with… a look of mild amusement?

“Shoe fairies? They’d take all sizes, d’you s’pose?”

“Uhh… sure, why not?”

“I’d wonder how they’d’ve known which. A doll’d have a lot, ‘n don’t think they’d take ‘em all.”

“Noah.” Adrian made a gesture to hold on just a moment, then crossed his arms. “Honestly, it’s not just about the shoes, Hope. There’s a lot of weird things that have been happening around here this past week, and I was hoping that they were your doing. I’d rather not think too much of the alternative.”

“Ooh. That would not be good. Okay, yeah, I’ll admit to everything that I did, and you can run down the list to verify that that was everything.”

Adrian nodded. “The shoes?”

“Hidden in the attic, underneath one of the boxes of St. Patrick’s Day ornaments.”

“The magic wands in my collection that kept leaving their display cases and arranging themselves at night?”

“Yeah, that was me. Turns out locks only do so much when you can walk between worlds.”

Noah piped up. “M’ cape?”

Hope looked back with a brief look of confusion. “You didn’t see Max wearing it yet?”

Adrian shot his ward a look, and continued his listing. “My… unusual hairdo?”

“That one was tricky to pull off, but yep, also me.” Pink dye only stuck so well to black hair, but he wore braids surprisingly well.

“Teaching Max how to use the can opener?”

In retrospect, maybe not the best idea. “Give a cat a fish, you feed him for a day?” She smiled awkwardly. Thankfully, he seemed not to wish to dwell on it for long.

“Noah’s… contractive affliction?”

“It should have worn off in a day or two, unless he likes it. He did agree to it in the first place.” Now he’d got her crossing her arms defensively, too.

“...Last one. And I know it has to have been you who screwed up all the doors, so I’m not even going to bother asking if. Instead, I’ll ask how, so I can defend against it next time. How did you do it?”

“I mean, I can bring small things with me into the ethereal plane. Turns out that also works on screws, door hinges, and doorknobs, even if they were still attached. And from there it wasn’t too bad to put them on the other way around. Doing that silently was the real trick.”

“I see…” he trailed off contemplatively. For a few seconds, anyway. “Well, if you see the need to switch things around, please do it for the front door again. I’d rather like for those wards to not be inverted - it’s getting a bit chilly out and I’d appreciate being inside.”

“Okay, yeah, sure. Let me see what I can do real quick.”

Chapter Text

“Seems rather mild, for being the first time. I still remember when I first went full squirrel. Now that was intense.”

“Who said that was my first? That was just once I’d gotten the hang of it. The first, though…”

—

Her mind reeled with an overload of information. Innumerable fragments of the past of an immortal named Pandora - of her own past self - had just rushed through her mind, faster than she could think. She could still feel them, just out of the sight of her mind’s eye; it wouldn’t be difficult to recall any one thing in particular.

It was almost enough to make her forget the three questions she’d asked of the void just beforehand. Of those, by now she suspected the answers to two of them, or at least was able to dismiss them as largely irrelevant. Leaving only the last, and most important. ‘Who am I?’

Though of course, there was no one to ask this question other than herself; this liminal space seemed empty and abandoned save only for herself. She wasn’t sure if that was because it was in some way designed for her or because immortals so infrequently reset that it would be some time before another came to be. That said, she didn’t particularly feel like lingering to find out.

There was so much that she knew, even if she wasn’t certain how she knew that she knew it. Or, for that matter, how correct it was. It was one thing to know that she’d been told, by Pandora, that Moperville was where she ought to go. It was quite another to feel that it was true. Still, probably a better place than some of the others in her memory, tiny villages whose names had no doubt been long forgotten and sprawling cities which may well have turned to dust. Might as well head there to begin with.

But there were so many questions and answers that somehow seemed wrong. Like the fate of Blaike. (Her heart, and motion, sped up a hair even just at the thought of his name.) He’d been so happy farming at the end… except Pandora had loved him so much, she had loved him, and then when he chose to take up farming she visited him once and that was it? Had only chosen to pass on one memory of that time? She remembered great detail of many of his previous adventures - not that she could be sure that that was all of them per se, but it seemed likely.

There were a couple of other questions, but that one truly did bother her. There must be more. Indeed, a quick review of her memories as the city drifted closer into view did show some examples of unfamiliar-looking scenes; she hadn’t seen Pandora’s first flight, nor the way she’d smacked head-on into a tree. Nor the last time she’d seen Adrian, nor several clearly important scenes from the very last day. And there was one - right before Blaike had taken up farming - which caught her eye especially. One notable because, unlike the other unusual memories, she couldn’t get even a glimpse of it by thinking lightly about it.

As she focused her attention on that scene, though, suddenly she stopped short (in the middle of a field, at least), with complete and total surprise. Pandora herself had appeared in her vision, striding intently toward her until the two of them were right next to each other.

“This can’t be real,” she whispered to herself.

But it didn’t seem to help. Pandora’s eyes narrowed. “Sure, I’m only in your head, and Pandora put me here. But why on earth would that mean I’m not real? I’m sure you know why I’m here.”

The newborn immortal who would come to be known as Hope flinched at this accusation. At the sheer force of personality Pandora emitted. Or this… illusion of Pandora, at least. “I think so?”

“Then I am here to warn you. You are not ready to see this memory.” Pandora’s illusion held up a glowing key. “This may be metaphorical, but I assure you, it is very real for you. This key will unlock the memory. And Pandora told me when to decide that you’re ready to have it. Two words: Not. Yet.” So saying, she began to turn and pace away.

The immortal who would come to be known as Hope stood frozen for a moment - but then manifested a convenient clod of dirt in the spirit plane, just to kick it at the illusion. A simple way to relieve some frustration, and perhaps more than she should have done - the exertion took a significant amount of effort, and she wasn’t quite sure how she did it. It did seem to have a tangible effect, though; the illusion turned around as the lump of soil passed through her back, with a smile on her face.

“Oh, well then. That changes things. Mental control over the spirit plane, to the extent of inducing it to follow mundane physics? I’m sorry. You wouldn’t be able to do that if you weren’t ready.” So proclaiming, Pandora’s illusion began to walk back.

This, of course, had not been an expected result. She was quick on the uptake, though, and did not falter. “Yes, of course. I’m ready. Lay it on me.”

The illusion held up the key, and let it go. The instant it was released, it zipped straight into her chest, and she felt something… release. That she hadn’t known was tightened. Pandora began to disappear, dissolving into golden light.

And a scene began to play out before her eyes.

—

A forest. Darkest night. Flying swiftly through, scanning. Searching for a light, the glint of a sword, the flicker of a torch. Any sign of life at all.

But there was nothing. Nothing except the echo of howls in the far distance. The winged owls sweeping by. The natural world, wholly unconcerned with her intrusion.

But Pandora would not be dissuaded. Blaike was here, somewhere. She would find him. She would find out where he had gone.

There! A small circle of stones on the ground, its insides filled with ash. A burnt-out campfire. Someone had been this way recently. Settling down gently nearby, she carefully scrutinized every blade of grass and every leaf in the surroundings, looking for a clue as to which way this traveler had gone. If it was not Blaike, at least it might be someone who had seen him.

Here a small scratch on a tree. There a snapped twig in the undergrowth. A bush, stripped bare of berries with an unnaturally straight cut. The subtle signs that permitted her to follow the path, that told her whoever it had been that had been this way, had only just passed.

Only now, the path grew swifter. More careless. Hurried, and without heed for tracks. It would be far easier to follow. But now, Pandora was less sure what she would find at the end. There still was no sign of light.

And then she reached the clearing. Time had worn away the very worst edges of the scene, yet death had doubtless permeated this place. There was only one face she dreaded to see - but she had to look. She had to see.

And in the moonlight, she finally saw a glint of light. Moonlight reflecting off of a blade lying on the ground, as if thrown aside. And she could just barely make out the inscription on its hilt.

Sine spe, nihil. Without hope, nothing. Blaike’s motto.

And lying next to the sword -

—

She snapped back to herself, for what little good that did. The last image of that memory was burned into her mind. And she knew well - it had been burned into Pandora’s, too.

But Pandora had had two lifetimes’ worth of experience in dealing with grief. She had merely ten minutes of memories. And memories, for all they were worth, meant nothing in the face of a tidal wave of emotion, drowning her in its vastness, subsuming her. She, too, had loved Blaike, had loved him just as Pandora did. The greater the love, the greater the grief; and she had known nothing but love.

Deep inside her heart, a door that should not have opened broke down. And power came flowing out, more power than she could comprehend, could wield, could withstand. Power that twisted, power that flowed. Power that wrought what it wrought and could not be undone. A soundless scream, echoing far across the ethereal plane. And in its wake-

A young girl, who had once been known by many names, lay curled up in a ball in the middle of a field, sobbing. Chilled to the bone by the midnight air, and unable to gather even the energy to give herself warmer garb. And severed - in totality - from the ethereal plane.

Chapter Text

A wholly unfamiliar silence fell over the laboratory, punctuated only by near-inaudible tears. No one present had quite been prepared for the honesty Hope had put on full display. No one else had really known the truth.

Seven people had been gathered in a circle, with various instrumentation strapped on to more than a few. Tedd and Grace, the ringleaders running the show, keeping an eye on measurements and adjusting dials, casting spells and scanning for magical effects. Susan and Diane looped into the network, stabilizing and repeating the signals from their maybe-sister. Sarah, helping keep everyone grounded and translating all the complicated jargon. And Noah and Professor Raven, Hope’s closest family, helping with everything else as needed.

Seven people gathered in a circle. One immortal sitting quietly in its center. And nobody knowing quite what to say.

Raven - Adrian - felt her sorrow perhaps deeper than anyone else there. Pandora had never told him exactly what happened to Blaike. He’d had to piece together what fragments he could. But it had never quite hit how much it must have affected his mother, to be the one who’d found his father. He’d never really known. And so he wept.

Susan teared up for a different reason than most - how fragile Hope had been. How defenseless, against the horrors of the world. She was like her younger sister - and yet she’d had so much grief already. So much she never should have had to know. And so she wept.

Diane and Noah - maybe-siblings - leaned against each other for emotional support. They’d been Hope’s closest confidantes, and yet had no idea the weight she had carried. That she still carried. They’d had no idea, couldn’t possibly have known. And so they wept.

Sarah had spoken with Professor Raven before, many times, about his mother. The immortal named Pandora, named Chaos, named Raven. But she had never been told this tale - a tale that Hope had not been ready to tell. A tale that Raven could not tell. But the weight of it - it was a burden she took up gladly, to know. And so she wept.

Tedd saw a past that might have been a little different. His own. A past where, for some reason or another, he had lost Elliot, just as Hope had lost Blaike so long ago. A past which turned into a nightmarish present, his own antithesis. In this, he felt a kinship beyond mere fairy-godmother-hood, with Hope, who once had been the nightmarishly powerful Pandora. A kinship borne of potential and possibility, of knowns and unknowns, yet kinship nevertheless. And so he wept.

Grace had never really known Pandora, and had only really gotten to know Hope through how Tedd interacted with her. That wasn’t much, these days, especially when she was around. But - the tale struck a chord with her. She didn’t have to have great empathy to feel sorry for Hope, to weep for her. But it magnified the emotions a hundredfold. The pain, the loss, was something she knew all too well. And so she wept.

Alone among all, Hope did not. Instead, with a sad smile, she looked at everyone in turn, and took strength from sympathetic emotion. That there were seven people who cared enough about her - who loved her, strange as that sounded to her own ears - to help her shoulder some of the burdens she carried. To support her, when she was at her lowest, and help raise her up.

In the end, when everyone had let out all their tears, it was she who broke the silence.

“Maybe the best way to learn about immortals would be to see them make an artifact. And I think I might be ready to try. Are you ready, Tedd?”

“Just a moment.” He closed his eyes for just a moment; when they opened again the pupils had dilated as much as they could. The hallmark of Seer Vision. “Okay.”

Hope looked around at the rest of everyone assembled there. Susan and Diane smiled at her comfortingly. Grace was busily connecting one last sensor to the network, but then looked up at Tedd and nodded. Sarah was watching her work and whispering to Noah, presumably giving a play-by-play. And Adrian reached out his arm and took her hand in his, squeezing tightly for a few seconds before giving a slight nod and letting go.

“Here goes nothing.”

So Hope began to form an image in her mind. Of a simple shape and form: a thin circular disk, segmented into seven pieces, set onto a string through a hole in its middle. Of a simple concept: to share memories as if they were your own. Of a simple mechanism: wishing it so.

And when it was done, she too wept, for all that she had lost and all that she had gained.