Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Most human children lack luminous eyes that remain bright. Most children in general, do not hold the grounding power of an anchor in a still sea. General Vanrouge does not know what normal children are.

General Vanrouge- Lilia to only the highest ranking of fae, was an ideal. A man who had the power and ability to care for the fae prince himself? Nothing short of a children’s legend to those who reside in the valley of thorns. If he was a children’s folklore to scare children on the outside, it was no fae’s concern.

So for an icon that fae children were raised to, it was no surprise that a rumor about his latest ward would surface. Despite their slyness, however, many did not know much about the child that the great Vanrougue held to his side. Those who chanced upon the human child would find themselves repelled yet enthralled by the moon-touched boy- this betrayal of instinct would only cause fear in a species obsessed with knowledge. Silver Vanrouge is not a normal child. 

The only thing they knew was that Vanrouge found him on a fruitful day. No more and no less.

However, it is to say that the general was not the first to find Silver– the first would be an elegant yet mirthful young lady. Her beauty was reminiscent of the start of a beautiful dawn, whilst the dew settled upon freshly bloomed roses.

On a lonely and desolate morning, such a lady traced the wood’s path, as if she walked the land in dreams and actuality. Singing a song that bore no words- a voice filled with rustling leaves and a morning bird’s cry– a language so ancient it had long faded from comprehension. Briar Rose was no new presence to the woods who’ve seen kingdoms fall and a dragon’s pyre- they would not disturb her dreamy walk. A baby, however, would have no qualms to wake her.

Gentle eyes flutter open as she hears a babbling baby talking to the trees and sun. Her quiet steps cause the infant’s breaths to shudder- as if comforted by her very presence. Instinctively, Briar Rose traces a story that had written her entire being, and she makes contact with the child. Like a finger to a spindle, her ancient words burst, and the baby sleeps peacefully once more. Fear and something more coats the woman's face as she bounds backwards in shock and trepidation, no, surely not?

Seconds pass, and she flutters closer, in a path of a falling leaf. It takes time before she becomes close enough to witness the child's being.

Oh, what a charming child. His eyes a stunning mix of pink and blue and shimmering white eyelashes, that reminded her of the moon’s halo. With flushed cheeks of a bold hero, Briar Rose leans close.

May this child always be a bold hero. She kisses his flushed cheeks and murmured words with sweet charm, "Träum schön, my child."

Against all reason and laws- she picks up the child from the cushion of the moss. Unfortunately, unlike a fairytale, she fears the child’s death who could only consume beautiful visions of feasts and tea parties within endless dreams. The winds that she had once stepped in tune to had sharpened their blades against the child’s thread of fate. The cool dew became a deadly poison– Again! Again, again, and again she strokes his cheek while murmuring to him dreams far too deep to feel the harshness of the woods. Too deep to feel much of anything other than her. The child's deep sleep would be his only chance of salvation.

It’s hard for her not to be fond of this child who shares her dreams. Feeling slightly unease from carrying the child (for what if the child shall join her ranks? Become less than human?)- she gently lays him down in a tree’s hollow. She would not mind the glimmering ring or the mysterious past of this child, for she had no room to ruminate. 

He is but a child she shall follow. 

As if predetermined, as Briar Rose laid wildflowers and nuts around in hopes of attracting the protection of wildlife, an uneasy step broke branches from behind. Losing all capabilities of moving the world around her, she turns gracefully to meet deep red eyes. Those eyes of course, did not see her. Sharp and aged, his neutral face twitched when he sees the unsettling patterns Briar Rose had spelt around in circles- as if to highlight it's importance.

Life! Freedom, and longevity! Those ancient words grew into the man's skin like thorns. The man would not hear her warnings, Talisman- Gentle…

The magic that wrapped around him however… It flares, not to destroy her words, but almost enhancing them into something far more tangible than Briar Rose could. A magic that felt too nostalgic to be unfamiliar.

“What have we here…” The man paused, feeling an odd familiarity that was almost scary– something that felt like it had long left his time. “...”

Briar Rose sees the man pause, and only then does she notice the wound that reacted with her words. He was wounded, and not in the way of an accident- any other like her could feel the intent behind the wound. Forget salvation for the child- the man would barely stand to live another day so deep within an echoing forest. The man who could not see her, and would not allow her to save solely a child, should she have that desperation.

Lilia is no stranger to the odd and fantastical. In fact, he could not be when he was one himself. A knight who had pledged directly to the most wonderous of fae queens herself, a fae who need not outer powers to enhance his strength. A knight, nearly defeated. It would be a tragedy, if not an insult upon the prior queen's good name if someone she personally granted strength would die like this. Alone and lost.

Or, perhaps, not so alone.  

Lilia had just dragged himself far from the sounds of war- the sounds of burning flesh and airy screams. (Some strength stemmed from knowing how to lose.) He would be prideful enough to believe himself smart, but under the deliriousness from magical overuse that stung his veins and fried his nerves, he refused to take the blame for his lesser decisions. Tracing what could almost be deemed a path between the thorny brushes, he had found himself by a tree's cavity.

And within, a child- no barely a baby.

An instinct, that must have been older than Lilia himself tore through his sanity with a craving that he had to suppress. He must eat- he must recover his strength, for how else would he possibly live in the forest of legend like this? He reaches out to the child who ran warm in miraculous would amidst them both. As if there were only one option in the world, the man must live- live long and-

A prickling shock races down his arms, like the cold iron cuffs that he had once been trapped within. And with this unsettling familiar tremor, he comes to. This was the instinct of the ancients, something far beyond his time- beyond perhaps even his beloved queen. And though they may persist in their time...

No- such acts were too far below a fae as high as him- and in this clarity, there's something more. Details he should have realized far before he had even begun to reach the baby at peace. Nuts and berries, wild flowers and more- All such wild treasures covered the child almost far kinder than the blanket. If Lilia was not a fae himself, he would have long suspected it to be a fae-trap. A will o' wisp meant to lead him into a costless demise. A pause is what it takes. A pause and a shake.

The magic that had once been meant to serve, of a queen long past, resonated in a way it hadn't in so long. 

This surge of an eldritch strength was all he needed. The wound, yes it hurt, but what was pain to yet another soldier in a war that spanned generations? Surely, yes, this child would be the answer to something . Li lia would not fret over what such prophecy that may be. Perhaps it was a sign of a woman who would no longer be able to dictate to what he fought for, or perhaps it's the feelings he had long thought to be buried to him.

He accepts the child that had never been offered to him.

Chapter Text

When Silver comes to, he is laughing. Feet dancing on the wet but soft marsh, he could only compare it to his father’s elegant footwork. Home. Home was so beautiful- the air that was saturated with life- The special peace of silence pierces his heart.

Dancing slowly into a slow minuet, he looks up at the only star in the sky, as if he was offering his hand.

It’s only then he realizes that he was humming a melody he doesn’t quite know. It was far too soft to be any lullaby from his past- of his father nor his patron.  Letting his heart sink into the sweet melody, he lets his eyes fall to a close before- His eyes flutter to the hand that took his own.

It’s odd. Everything about this was strange.

The stars no longer hung upon the sky’s veil as he let his eyes wander upwards.

They’re smiling. Silver thinks vaguely. Who are they?  

Despite his sight being better than most could even believe, he couldn’t define any features of the person before him. All he had to go off of was the body language. Lips parting, he finds himself being pulled back to the slow dance that had so entranced him prior.

One, two, three.

One, two. 

One, two, three. 

Silver finds his own steps hypnotic, yet unsettlingly wrong. He does not know this dance.

“I know you,” says a voice, rich with drive and ambition.

Silver hesitates and pulls away. He does not know them, so he is unable to reciprocate. His father had always told him about the power of [True Love.] It’s strange and it’s uncomfortable. It’s a demand he feels as if it is inevitable— a tie to something stronger than he would ever be. Before he could respond, his patron’s voice resonates in his heart as he hears her whisper. [Briar Rose: Wake up.]

The echoey voice filled with words that had once been heard eons before, and Silver wakes abruptly. Despite being nothing new nor nothing powerful, these elden words felt different from her usual quiet words. The world around him flashes bright with vivid color before soaking in the dark of sleep. Silver starts to fall. 

BANG .

Silver’s eyes widened as his eyes came to focus at the ever dull ceiling, heart racing and head aching- and no longer in his bed. A startling and uncomfortable awakening, the shock of which stunned him out of his fugue state. 

“Ah…” 

Swallowing dryly, his eyes flick over to his assortment of clocks on the barest edge of ringing into a cacophonous cry. 

Above him, his patron stood with a mischievous smile.

[Briar Rose: I walked with you,]

Silver’s eyes flicked up at her ever-closed ones and half-smiled back at her. “Thank you…” 

Heart still beating rapidly, he quickly set to work on defusing the several clocks he had lying about. It wouldn’t do to have Sebek bursting in with hair amok and complaints that rung louder than any clock he owned. When he almost finished turning them off (and perhaps, taking out their batteries) he had fully settled back into his body.

Pat.

A gentle and elegant hand landed on his still messy head. Laughing a little here smiles more genuinely at her, “Thank you.”

In response, his patron just slipped the feelings of home and comfort to him– of a warm cottage and the cool forest air. Of a home both familiar and not to Silver. Reassurance.

Shoulders untensing slightly, he nods to her as she leaves the room to let him prepare for school. Almost exactly the moment she leaves the room, his phone alarm goes off.

“Oh.” Silver was going to be late.

Silver arrives at class with surprising ease. ‘No running or flying in the halls’ was barely enforced, though Silver wouldn’t damage his prince’s or his father’s pride like that. But, what was the harm of a short jog? He just happens to be faster than most others.  As long as one foot is on the floor at all times, he would be jogging… Right?

Entering professor Trein’s class with half a minute to spare, he slides into the seat next to Kalim, trying to avoid noticing Trein’s disapproving stare. Slowly unpacking his textbook, Kalim finishes snacking on some kind of dried fruit to greet him.

“Good morning Silver!!” Grinning at him, Kalim leans affectionately on his shoulder. “Woke up early today, huh?”

With some exasperation, Silver lets out a small laugh, “A bit.” 

“Hold your tongues.” Trein’s wise and no-nonsense voice cuts through the chattering classroom. Despite the somewhat rowdy class, no one would not listen to professor Trein. Side-eyeing the woman standing by Trein, Silver quickly takes out his pen to take notes. Even if Trein didn’t catch him dozing, he’d rather not feel the Step-Mother’s gaze. 

[Step-Mother: Find something suitable to wear.] Said an echoing and harsh voice, as a rather tall woman with a strict face wandered over to a Kalim’s unique uniform. Not being able to help but to look, he sees the Step-Mother’s ever changing face looking back at him with vague and cold amusement above Kalim’s unbothered shape. 

Silver quickly goes back to note taking. He really would not want to attract a Patron’s ire.  

Trein’s calm and steady voice broke past the tension between the two, as he continued his lesson. “In our past, magic was rarer or seldom understood. Primarily it was the fae that used magic so many years ago. Of course, you should know this.” 

Pausing briefly due to small mumbles about Diasomnia, Trein’s sharp eyes put a quick pause to the noises. 

“However, today we will be reviewing discoveries of magic in human history in the past.” Folding his arms he continues, “There are three popular beliefs regarding human usage of magic, which you should have learnt by now. Can anyone name them?”

…The class was silent as a grave. With the increasing awkward air, Silver pauses for a second before raising his hand. Seeing Trein’s slight nod, he starts.

“The oldest belief was that intermingling Faes had given magic to non-magical humans through items, reproduction, or usage of magic…”

“Very good.”

“Ah. There is also the belief that magic had always existed for humans, just their magical capacity wasn’t high enough to notice… and then there’s the theory that…” Not being able to help it, his eye’s felt heavier. Resisting the urge he fights to at least finish his sentence. 

Slap!

Being shocked back into the present, Silver winces at his now stinging leg. Thanking Kalim silently, though his too-proud smile did bring some… complicated feelings, he continues as Trein pretends it didn’t happen. “The last theory is that humans adapted in order to harness magic in recent years…”

“Wonderful.” Trein continues on to go further into details of boys with beanstalks and girls with magical hair. Something that felt so interesting before the Professor inevitably went into the sciences and historian’s drawling words. Soon, Silver was not the sole person succumbing to sleep. Pinching his own leg as the lecture droned on, it’s the determination to not get caught by the Step-mother that saved him.

Learning the history of magic was interesting, that much is still true. Learning of something he could see the footprints of. But after the novelty of the new information and it started to dip into magic theories, who could blame him? He’d at least liked to see the Patron’s impressions on the lessons, but most Patrons did not like attending classes alongside their contractors, should they even follow them. Briar Rose, too, was not exempt. Why, could only be felt by the Step-Mother’s claim to the classroom. 

Iridescent eyes shifting over to the other sides of the room, he catches the eyes of another Patron wandering in– however before he could catch the shape and name of that magical being, it disappears in shades of silver and red. Strange. Is all Silver could think before the Step-Mother morphs into something too specific; a younger and harsher face.

[Step-Mother: Let me see thy face!]

Wide-eyed, Silver watches as the previously aristocratic older lady morphed into someone who could only be described like a queen. Marching to the window the patron had tried to shift through, she looked dissatisfied. A pig’s heart gripped in dainty hands. A smell of betrayal. Unable to help himself, he tears away his eyes from the lecture to look at the window the Step-Mother had positioned herself in front of.

Strang-er.  

However, despite the shock of the event, nothing more happens, and Silver could only set the event aside for later. Not before long, class ends with Silver’s mind elsewhere. He ends up waiting for Kalim to put away all of his haphazardly placed papers before exiting the hall. Instantly greeted by noise from every nook and cranny- both ancient words and not, a familiar kindly voice that catches his attention.

[Sultan: Oh, oh!] a warm voice echoes down the hall. Friends and food! Feast of rare fruits! Was traced lovingly into the air. [Sultan: Make sure! …Taken care of!]

Soft lilac eyes flit between a breaming student and seemingly still air. Silver pauses for less than what would take a robin’s wing to flap before blinking slowly and decisively. The sultan must be fretting over Kalim again. Taking a guess, he ruminates over the image of a table so laden with food it could break and a slight upward tick could be noted in Silver’s mouth before he nods vaguely at the air.

“Kalim, you must be hungry. Would you like to get something to eat during our study period?”

“Eh?” Taken aback, Kalim glances back at him. “How didja know?”

Pausing for a brief moment, Silver fails to come up with any plausible real reason. Instead of anything smart, like noting on his snacking, or the fact Kalim rarely turned down food, instead he shrugs slightly, his smile solidifies, “A little birdie told me…?”

[Sultan: Bless my soul!] The shorter man pats at Silver’s sleeve insistently as a feeling of warmth and fullness spreads through the air (reminiscent of Kalim’s own Unique magic), [Sultan: You brilliant boy!]

Kalim, who luckily, took the excuse stride chatted on. “Yeah! I actually skipped breakfast today ‘cuz I woke up late… Jamil usually wakes me up… Aw man! Thinking about eating has gotten me feeling better already!”

Thankfulness! Gratefulness! The sultan’s praise rambled alongside Kalim with flashes of comfortable feelings, before  quieting down and following at Kalim’s heels.

“Mnm,” Silver quietly lets Kalim know he’s listening, as they start walking from the courtyard. “What do you want to eat?”

“Ah…” Kalim scrunches his face as he thinks as hard as he can, “Jamil is busy, and I’m banned from the kitchen… without him… Ah! Silver!”

Silver widens his eyes slightly as the sudden outburst nearly hits him in the face in the form of excited hand gestures.

“Ah! Kalim?”

[Briar Rose: Oh dear,] she giggles as her ever-graceful steps dance around Kalim’s movements. Silver grimaces lightly at her gentle teasing as he gives her a slight nod to acknowledge her appearance, before waiting for Kalim to continue.

“Sam’s shop’s got a promo I think!” Kalim barely explains before grabbing his hand. “They’ve got this crazy new snack that everyone’s been calling ‘the gray stuff!’ I heard a buncha students in my dorms daring each other to describe what it is.”

[Briar Rose: I wonder…] 

Silver tries not to look too dubious at Kalim’s suggestion, before pausing his excited talking. “Maybe we should get… something to eat before trying snacks?”

“Ah! Yeah, you’re right…” Mumbling to himself, Kalim laughs, “Snacking before a proper meal isn’t right.”

Taking it easy, as they both only had late classes for the day, they mostly basked in the sunlight coming in from the outer halls. Kalim was a nice friend to have, with these comfortable silences. Humming to himself as he watches students rush by, some with patrons chasing after them and some without. By now, he mostly recognized the patrons that remained on campus.

“Y’know,” Kalim begins, with a closed eyed grin, “You’re a real funny guy, Silver.” 

“Huh?”

“Can’t describe it!” Kalim laughs before meeting Silver’s eyes, “I always get an urge to just make it rain and play around when you’re around! Just go: Oasis Maker!!! Even if I’m just gonna get scolded again- haha”

“Is that so…”

What did... that have do with him? Briar Rose looks at the Sultan with a slightly exasperated smile, even without impressions of their emotions, Silver can tell she’s thinking ‘really?’  He also turns to look at the Sultan. 

The Sultan only shrugs helplessly.

Chapter Text

The cafeteria at Night Raven College is always bustling. Constantly filled at the brim with the smell of food and the loud chattering of the students within— and even more so overwhelming, was the sheer amount of Patrons and their proxies that joined in with the hubbub.

Someone would think that beings of timeless magic would prefer to visit the library or the historical locations on campus. However, if Briar Rose was anything to go by– it was simply the overpowering intensity of human ‘connection’ that dragged so many to the chaotic cluster of students. What need would ancient beings need from history books they had likely once lived through?

No, it was the cafeteria where… admittedly embarrassingly, the Patrons keyed into gossip and rumors. Newer and far more engrossing, if their reactions are anything to go by. It’s said only the most brilliant minds were only the most adaptable– and adapt to the student body they did.

Fortunately, a majority of the Patrons that bothered to follow their contracted students tended to be the minor ones or those that are contractor-bound. The eccentric few major Patrons that were consistently there though… 

Even when the linked pomefiore junior presumably weren’t in the halls- it was The Huntsman’s grounds. Perhaps it was that patron’s presence that made the cafeteria bearable to still visit; The patrons of pomefiore held weight– an eldritch power that challenged even that of the Valley of Thorns.

“Silver?” Kalim looks up at him, “Do you wanna eat outside today too? It’s kinda busy at this time…” 

Eyes flicking up and around the cafeteria, he quickly spots the new ramshackle head sitting by the first years. Pausing for a second to look at Ace’s exaggerated hand movements matched only by the flurry of translucent cards that tends to follow heartslabyul students, Silver turns his head to the ramshackle head, who simply shrugged with a smile before turning suddenly to meet his eyes. In only a slight movement, Silver swears he sees them look to Briar Rose at his side first… and then their eyes meet. 

Suddenly, vision slowed down into a slideshow. Meeting the eyes of a stranger- it was not familiarity more so as it was a reflection. A conviction exists within him- strong enough to rouse a feeling of uncertainty if what he was looking at was human or not-

Filled with a mysticism that could only exist outside of lucidity, Silver stutter-stepped into another student. Then, the brief eerie tranquility that was akin to the eye of a storm passing quickly dissolved back into the typical rambunctious nature of Night Raven College. Intangible and impossible to return to.

A dull ache and something more pulls at his soul. If he succumbed- could he still chase that thread of dream?

No, it was never possible.

Briar Rose says nothing. Perhaps that was most haunting of all. Kalim is still looking at him. Or, Silver had still been suspended in the moment he was asked a question that had long become vague and fuzzy. 

“Woah! Don’t fall asleep here, c’mon– sit, sit!” With the flamboyance and genuine charisma that couldn’t be faked, Kalim quickly emptied a bench for Silver to sit down on. A gesture indicative of their friendship– far too many incidents where Kalim tried catching him to only be unable to pull him off the floor. “You just wait right here! I’ll get you your usual–”

Running off before Silver could finish listening to what he was saying, Kalim dances through the indifferent crowd. Far too into the year for any freshmen to gawk at or be surprised. Rubbing his forehead as the static in his mind slowly ebbs away, a bitterness that was impossible to suppress bubbles up. 

Suppression may have been impossible, but Silver carefully dances around those feelings as he slaps himself awake. While Silver was curious about the perfect, they were only an oddity in the way he’s just sure he was sheltered. As clarity returns to him, he notes that it wasn’t that Briar Rose didn’t speak or hover by him- her presence had simply disappeared. 

It’s only when Kalim leaves his side when he finally meets eyes with The Huntsman. Or– only one of its eyes.

It saw. Rings in Silver’s mind, before a secondary: Saw what ? Follows close behind.

There is no avoiding The Huntsman’s gaze. But, as perceptive as it was, it only came to chase at his heels once he was properly alone. Patrons were not necessarily humanoid , but it was difficult to describe The Huntsman as anything but viscerally human.

Silver hasn’t met that many patrons– especially when the Fae patrons did not haunt about– but he’s never seen ones of the like of the pomefiore dorm head and vice before.

Akin to the Step-Mother’s ever changing face and voice, The Huntsman’s face was difficult to describe- like several faces were melted together there was no truly determining how many eyes the patron owned. It would be gentle to describe it like several ghosts overlaid with one another- when the violence of the mashup was nothing if not brutal, only second in grotesque horror to The Queen.

Silver does not know The Huntsman’s name, not for the lack of it– but because The Huntsman had too many with unspoken trap-like power. Should he speak the wrong one- of what consequence would that bring upon him?

The Huntsman stares at him, no shared visions or ancient words— it had learnt well after the last incident a majority of its words carried too much weight to be casually said to someone who could [hear] the ancient words. Perhaps if Silver knew a name to call for— that would ground the Huntsman into a solid version of itself, only then could words be shared.

Instead, he must hazard a guess. 

A skill solely developed by his father’s games of charades, it’s not a particularly well developed skill unless the opponent was pulling out esoteric gestures that hadn’t been relevant in centuries. Yet somehow, that was Silver’s target demographic- as he looks at The Huntsman’s black-stained hands.

Mumbling to himself slightly, his eyes flutter back to the ramshackle head. Somehow, a commotion had broken out. Not uncommon— but surprising nonetheless. “Can they see you?”

The Huntsman pauses at that. The reason The Huntsman became familiar with Silver in the first place was because of Silver’s difference.  Perhaps it was because there was no such thing as a ‘hunt’ when it came to those who could not see it or that even a being as ancient as it could not help but marvel at the feeling of being seen again. 

Oddly, despite this, it’s intentional about never meeting Silver while it’s contractors remained in the room.

The Huntsman turns to look at him once more (an unnecessary action, when its eyes were almost omnipresent) before shaking its head— with the slowness of gesture, it could not be clearer that there was more to it that Silver simply couldn’t know. 

Lost in thought, The Huntsman’s figure flickers into something more defined— black hair with steely eyes— before it flickers back into the various masses of indistinguishable hunters. Then, without a word, The Huntsman disappears from the cafeteria. Perhaps to report to The Queen or gather information— Silver didn’t know, but by then Kalim had long returned with warm plates and light-hearted conversations. 

Lunch could only be normal, with anecdotes of Kalim’s life interspersed with Silver’s additions. 

A shimmer of fairy dust trails at his feet as his additions become far and between- and Kalim grabs his head with both of his hands with a panicked shout.

Briar Rose still did not return, when Silver awoke.

Chapter Text

Lilia knew about Briar Rose of course. Even with Silver being a little baby, he knew something was there. The two main oddities about Silver were his origin– and how a baby so finely clothed ended up untouched in thorny woods.

Even more curious, despite the deep memory reflected in the ring on his son’s neck— the finely spun silk he was left in… seemed to only exist in that forest.

The forest that Lilia had thought he and the baby were alone in. 

[ Far Cry Cradle ] had more use than just reminiscing the past. Lilia’s unique magic had use in sharing perspectives- illusions or other such tricks of the mind. Its usage was not always so nostalgic and soft. Impossible, while the war persisted. Sometimes it came in the form of his men’s last words, left in hopes that the great general would see them. Other times, it comes in the form of resistance when fighting against great illusionists or hallucinogens. 

Most times, it was a form of interrogation.

A part of Lilia had wondered if she was an illusion- a factor of the magic that lingered on the boy still. Logic would dictate it so, but the buzzing of his magic that pointed to the figure’s existence said otherwise.

Holding onto that baby was an otherworldly young woman of indistinguishable age and old-fashioned garb. Yes, her beauty could be admitted, but it was one that had an unsettling undertone to it. Gently grazing at her legs and (closed) eyes were thorns– sharp and imposing– as if threatening her into submission.

Gracefully dancing on the tips of her feet, the thorns do not prick her as she holds Silver, she speaks something Lilia could not decipher. Her mouth moves and yet the words seem to submerge Lilia under a fog– but the baby stops crying. She doesn’t leave when Lilia appears- and at the tail end, follows him as he takes the child away.

So yes, Lilia knew of Briar Rose. Not quite what she was or why she tagged along with a child– who no matter how much he dug into the memories in his memorabilia had no connection to such a woman.

To be honest, it was because Lilia lacked foresight, that he never properly discussed his son’s ‘guardian ghost’ with him. There is no one more wary of ancient magic than the fae themselves, so he had assumed he should let this woman undisturbed– only talking about her when mentioned. She seemed like a special existence that only existed for Silver alone.

He had felt justified in thinking that– when both he and Malleus never elicit any special response from Silver (besides unwavering love and faith– but that was not what Lilia means).

Lilia never really bothered to address the so-called patron. A mixture of acknowledging that elder power and because there was not much to be said when Lilia could barely have a moment alone with her. He hadn’t been entirely sure that she was a ‘sentient’ mass of magic until Silver started learning to communicate. 

Then, Baul’s grandson arrives.

A bundle of loud energy that the cabin hadn’t seen before– It would do his lethargic son good, Lilia had thought– the cabin was too isolated with just the two (three?) of them.

“You can’t see it?” Silver had asked, as Sebek voiced loud complaints, “Sebek’s got a crocodile,”

Part of Lilia was amused, did the boy also think he had also seen Briar Rose all this time? Kind-hearted and honest, Silver was, but he truly could use some curiosity in his life. The other part of Lilia is starting to think there’s consequences for not digging deeper. 

Lilia’s fairly certain crocodiles did not live in forests. Or at least, ones that weren’t tropical. Even then, he doesn’t see anything in the clearing. Sebek seemed to have been quite upset– insisting that there was no such thing. 

“I can’t see Briar Rose either,” Lilia admits, with a casual smile.

The flabbergasted look on his son’s face was worth it, in the long run, Lilia thinks as he cackles.

Lilia’s gaming on his floor, when he feels a familiar sensation. One he’s felt 17 years ago and would go on to constantly recognize.

“You’re here?” Lilia notes, without pausing. Even as his magic grew fainter, he could still feel that resonance that envelopes his entire being. Not bothering to look up (or maintain any decorum), he continues to press buttons. Damn. Lilia thinks, as he ends the fight with only a 3 star ranking.

The resonance this time around was steady, so Lilia wasn’t too concerned like he had been when Silver ran out on that rainy day.

Patrons were not poltergeists— Ms. Rose could not write words on mirrors nor could she share impressions onto him like she does to his son.

Had Silver been there— or if Lilia was more attuned to the wavelength of patrons, he could have translated for him. But had Silver been there, he would’ve noticed it wasn’t quite Briar Rose standing there.

“Did you need something?” Lilia asks the air.

As if responding, the frequency jumps before retreating back into the steady humm he’s gotten used to. It’s not the ideal way to converse by any means– since it seemed to require quite a bit of effort on the other’s side (and Lilia’s magic always felt a bit unfamiliar in the aftermath).

“Is it about Silver?”

The frequency stirrs before resonating with him twice. No . 

Silver is used to his persistent naps, usually coming back to awareness relatively fast. Not that it was a particularly good thing to get used to. And of course, it’s not like Briar Rose never leaves his side– and he usually did not use the amount of magic that would require her presence. Though…

She always appears, Silver vaguely recalls, She’s always there when I wake up.

His ‘nap’ this time around felt emptier. Lighter, even. As if there was a weightlessness to it– Did he not dream? Hesitating on that thought, he instead shrugs it off as nothing more than the Sultan’s underlying magic traces on Kalim. (For Oasis Maker to be merely a spell for water– that would be a grave understatement– Oasis Maker was far more than that.) Shrugging off the unbalanced air, Silver moves on.

Elsewhere, a tart is stolen. 

The Rose Queen ’s thorns dig deeper into the roots of her domain. She will not be slighted!

Fate flows naturally.

Chapter Text

Yuu finds themself in the library flipping through the books with vague disbelief. For however calm they had acted in previous interactions- their situation only felt more and more absurd. They pause, to only realize they hadn't read anything at all. If they were left on their own... There's no way they could possibly find their way back home. A handful of times Deuce had followed Yuu to the library in the name of studying- even if he tended to lose focus fast.

...Yuu flips the book to the beginning. Boring, is one thing that Yuu can at least say, is not what he would describe these textbooks. Grim however, couldn't say the same. Could Grim read anyways? They only had the feeling that Grim would be indignant at that question regardless of the answer.

Honestly speaking, Yuu was surprised that they could read in a different world as well. They're familiar, of course, with tropes of reincarnation and of transmigration- but an itching part of them felt like there was something more than what they had woken to- that they had a different connection to this world. But they felt pain and they felt real, so they could not disregard it as a dream.

"Hmm~ Hmmm~"

A humming noise comes from above.

Above...?

Yuu looks up to see a shorter vampiric-looking man(?) floating above him holding onto a thick tomb that was shedding dust down onto them. Coughing once- and then coughing more, Yuu squints at the title. Historical Gossip- the Scandals of the Past!

Well for one, Yuu would love to check that one out.

"Ah," The man says, glancing down at them before floating gracefully down, "My apologies, I had been caught up in the troubled marriage of a past matriarch, truly engaging."

Yuu waves their hands quickly, to indicate they didn't mind, they had on a facemask anyways. Hesitatingly, Yuu glances at their hands before giving up. Ace nor Deuce hadn't known sign language (and barely recognized what it was), and Grim made a pretty decent charades partner all things aside- but it didn't seem common place here (or even where Yuu had lived.) Hand reaching for a notepad, Yuu hesitates as they couldn't find their pen at first glance.

The other man seemed to have noticed, before starting to sign along as he talked.

"My name is Lilia, I'm quite familiar with sign language, don't worry."

The vampire- no, Lilia's signing was on the simpler side... Yuu pauses before admitting to themselves- it was on the unique side as well. It was seeped in personality and the experience enough to allow it. It would put Yuu's own abilities to shame, really.

"You're interested in this book as well?" Lilia gives an impish smile, "I don't blame you, it's just as interesting if not more than the ones floating amidst NRC albeit with creative liberties."

Yuu nods along- if they could've read the gossip mag version of Country Y's founders, maybe they would've done better on their exams. Noticing the neon green colors of the other's uniform, Yuu asks a question they've been meaning to ask.

"Silver hair... sleepy looking?" Lilia talks along before suddenly sharpening in recognition. "Oh, well, you've got it in one. That's Silver."

Silver...? Uncreative name aside, Yuu indicates for a surname- in case there is somehow more than one Silver in the dorm. A vague expression Yuu can't quite translate flits across Lilia's face before quickly being masked with that casual devilishness.

"None," he says, "But if you ask around, people will know who you're talking about. Why are you asking? I hadn't been aware you two have been acquainted already."

Recently-Yesterday. Cafeteria. Curious. Yuu signs clumsily as they try to remember that itching feeling from before. Then, Yuu tacks on at the end, Familiar.

-

Silver's weekly routine has always been simple enough. Wake up to varying levels of success. Attend classes with varying levels of success. Leave classes with varying levels of success- and so on. He tried to adhere to a strict schedule- one of a good student, but he can't help but find himself sometimes lagging behind. Between the efforts of Kalim and Sebek (with the occasional but rare instances his classmates got him to move along), no major issues has arrived.

Today was a free day however and the equestrian club was too busy to meet up. Sebek had been dragged into some kind of mishap and Kalim was busy as a housewarden. So, Silver was free to roam.

The Prince was here.

Silver's patron had always been Briar Rose, as far as he can remember- but haunting at the edges of his childhood was The Prince. To describe them, they were a far more palatable version of the Hunter's ever shifting faces. Rather than being a head filed with faces half melded into one another with more grotesque shifting- The Prince's appearance was a slow shifting. One that you would miss if you're not paying attention.

As of late, however, The Prince seems to vaguely stay with a familiar face. Only then, does The Prince indulge in ancient words.

[The Prince(?): You're living in the past.]

The Prince seem to avoid Briar Rose and she to him- regardless of what Silver had said about the other respectively.

"..." In any case, Silver never quite understands what exactly The Prince wanted from him. Insistently, The Prince approaches Silver. Briefly remembering Sebek's irritation at Silver's habit of 'talking to himself,' he offers a quick glance at the corridor by the tree. Empty, luckily.

[The Prince(?): It wasn't a dream,]

A pause.

[The Prince(?): But don't you remember?]

"...Is that why I've been remembering my dreams, as of late?"

The Prince smiles, facial expression solidifying more. Despite the friendliness of the face, Silver felt a vague discomfort- as if something was off. The generic princely garb of The Prince flickers into a more specific outfit.

Red hood, with simple travel wear. A sword in their (his?) hand seems to draw at Silver's consciousness.

Finding himself spell struck, Silver lifts his hand as if hypnotized by the shining silver that he knows.

[Stop.]

The words snaps Silver out of it, as it's so loud yet so quiet all of a sudden. Rather than a Patron's ancient speak, it was soulspeak- rather than saying words of the past... Staggering, he closes his eyes as the world look all too bright.

Briar Rose appears from behind him and The Prince's face starts it's overflowing change once again, flashy red and silver fading away. As if frantic (and it's ability to use the ancient speak robbed from them), The Prince vanishes from sight. Briar Rose's face that had always looked tranquil and delicate was twisted in displeasure for once (though her eyes still remained ever-closed.)

[Briar Rose: Oh, no, no! I can't believe it. No, no!]

In a rare childish display, she seemed to be more tangible in her frustration.

[Briar Rose: ...Just wait until you meet him.]

Silver's brow furrows as he studies- truly studies Briar Rose's once again always passive face. Of course, it gave away nothing but that quiet kindness she always afforded him, as it never did. Where The Prince had stood was a faint fogginess that made Silver's head spin- almost invasive in nature. His heart felt strained as he tries to identify that feeling- that oddness that made him feel like he was still half asleep.

The problem wasn't that the magic affected him- that was just the norm for entities made solely of power. The problem is that it had a grip hold on his link to Briar Rose. 

"Silver?" 

Silver sits up, jolting awake in the courtyard of the school, a sinking feeling almost revolting him. Before him stood his father, and the ramshackle house warden- who looked more sickly than Silver felt. No- No that couldn't be a dream. As realistic as it was- he felt that magic more true to his soul than anything else Silver knows. 

"F- Lilia-Senpai,"  Silver murmurs, distracted as his eyes dart around. There was no patrons in sight, and Briar Rose was still missing.